Rebellion Ebook Full

by B. V. Larson

  “I require another half-hour to complete my current project.”

  I was burning to inquire as to the nature of his project, and to give him a sharp order to follow me or else, but I’d learned what worked best with Marvin: cold logic.

  “If you do not come immediately, this ship and all of us aboard her face destruction. A new enemy has moved against us. We have very little time.”

  This got him moving. His self-preservation circuits were in prime condition. His flying dish tilted and he levitated out of the room. We followed him as he made his way toward the bridge. As we went, three of the four cameras watched us, looking over his shoulder in effect. Only one looked ahead to guide him on his path.

  “What is required of me?” Marvin said in a voice that should have had a whiny cadence to it, but I guess he wasn’t programmed for that.

  “I need you to translate for me. You can talk to the biotic beings we call the Worms. They are the beings who built the ships approaching us now. We must talk to them, and stop them from attacking this vessel.”

  “Few determined enemies can be argued out of their aggression. I would suggest you destroy them instead.”

  “There are too many. Your translations must be precise or your continued existence is in jeopardy.”

  His manner changed after that. I noticed his extra cameras now studied airlocks, hatches and exits as we passed them. Was he considering bolting on us? I wouldn’t put it past him. I glanced toward Sandra and she nodded back. I could tell she had noticed the same thing. He was clearly storing details of his environment, mapping the ship for purposes of escape.

  “Sandra here will accompany you everywhere you go, Marvin,” I said.

  A camera swung back to study me, then Sandra. “This is the female I modified,” he said.

  “About that, robot,” Sandra began.

  I lifted a hand. “Later,” I said. “Let’s talk to the Worms and survive the next few hours first.”

  Sandra looked pissed, but fell silent. I could tell by the look of smoldering anger and determination in her eyes, she was going to keep Marvin on a tight leash. That was exactly what I wanted. I only hoped she could keep from tearing him apart if she got him alone.

  On the bridge, people eyed this newest incarnation of Marvin doubtfully.

  “Hook him up to the sensor input,” I told Major Sarin. She did it, but she didn’t seem happy about it. No one really trusted Marvin now. If I didn’t need him so much I would have switched him off and put him in a storage container until I reached Earth.

  Marvin accepted a silvery, hair-thin nanite wire. He touched it to his brainbox, and it adhered as if it had been soldered there. So strange, this living, smart metal we used without a thought now. I supposed new tech was always like that. Strange at first, then natural and indispensable once you were familiar with it.

  “Marvin, can you transmit a hailing call to the Worm ships?”

  “Yes, but it is not necessary,” he said.

  “Why not?” I barked.

  “Because they are already transmitting one to us.”

  -45-

  I’d talked to a number of different aliens by now, but the Worms were a strange lot even by galactic standards. They didn’t use words. They used images. Transmitted symbols, which Marvin didn’t know how to break into English phrases. All he could do was give us the image they were sending and send one back that he deemed appropriate. I felt like I was drawing pictographic notes to an ancient Egyptian pen pal—but I had little idea what the pictures really meant.

  As I studied the language, I recalled the strange chamber we’d found back on Helios, the one with various sculptures made out of resins. I had always suspected the sculptures were formed by Worm excretions. I’d originally guessed the chamber to be an art gallery of sorts. I now believed the chamber was a library, school, or some other repository of knowledge. For a digging species, the Worms were highly visual—or maybe they felt the images with tactile sensory input, rather than looked at them. Whichever was the case, they definitely communicated with images and three-dimensional shapes. In a way, I was impressed. A lot of information could be stored in a three-dimensional structure. Our language was purely symbolic, and thus it took a lot of words to describe a concept.

  What was the old adage? That a picture was worth a thousand words…. Well, the Worms had gone one further with that. They communicated essentially in little statues of captured thought. A sculpture to them told a story. It was stored data in a physical form, rather than using standard symbols drawn or computer-generated.

  I didn’t have the time to get excited about this cultural meeting, and in any case all our xenologists had died by this point of the expedition. Once Marvin had explained the communications system to me, we got down to business.

  “All right then,” I said, “they talk with shapes and images. But how are we going to transmit them? We don’t have time to make clay models, here.”

  “They have a reduced symbol set for low-tech communications,” Marvin said. “It uses a standard group of symbols, arranged in a series. The exact meaning is up to interpretation, however.”

  “Great,” I said. “What are they sending now?”

  “They are repeating three symbols,” Marvin said. “The first symbol is an image of a raging Worm warrior.”

  “Okay, we’ve got that. Go on.”

  “The second is that of a razor-backed fluke—a common, much-hated parasite that lives inside Worms of lower caste. The last one resembles a meteor falling. It is the symbol for destruction.”

  My bridge crew looked at one another unhappily. No one had to do much guessing about these symbols.

  “So,” Gorski said, “We’re hateful parasites and they are coming to rightfully destroy us.”

  I nodded. “It sounds like it. Nice of them to transmit this vengeful message—how many times?”

  “Somewhat over seventy thousand repeats have been noted according to signal logs,” Marvin said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s great. Thousands of repeated threats. Let’s try to talk. Suggestions?”

  Everyone hesitated. I couldn’t blame them. Who wanted to be the first to talk to an enraged enemy? I had less concerns than most. I figured if they already hated us, we had little to lose.

  “Maybe we should send the same thing back at them,” Gorski said. “Didn’t you do that with the Macros to get them talking? So that they knew we understood and wished to talk?”

  I chuckled. “Yeah. But the Macros were making demands, not screaming threats. You think we should start off by shouting screw you too back at our enraged attackers, eh? I’m not sure how that will defuse the situation.”

  No one else had any hot ideas, so I told Marvin to send a new message. “Let’s try a symbol for peace and harmony,” I said.

  “I’m not aware of such a symbol. There is one for love—but that is more in tune with erotic interest. Another indicates submission to a superior.”

  “Fantastic. We don’t want to mate with them. Hmm. What indicates cooperation?”

  “I’m not aware of such a symbol.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Stretch that big brain of yours, Marvin! Don’t the Worms ever team up to do anything together?”

  “They form groups for hunting, procreation and war parties.”

  “Let’s try hunting. Send them a symbol suggesting we team up as a hunting party. What is that symbol?”

  “An image of a fat, underground grub being sliced open.”

  “Disgusting,” Sandra said.

  I smiled at her. “Just their equivalent of a juicy steak, I’m sure. Send it, Marvin.”

  “Message sent,” he said.

  We waited a few tense seconds. “Any reaction?” I asked finally, not being able to contain myself.

  “They have stopped sending their three threatening images,” Marvin said.

  “They are thinking that one over,” I said. “We’re going to have to catalogue these symbols and how they worked
out. Earth can analyze these for future contact. Assuming we survive this encounter, of course.”

  “I’m already recording, Colonel,” Gorski told me. He was tapping and opening save files as we went, capturing the data blips coming in and combining the signals with the descriptions Marvin gave us. Hopefully, we would learn to talk to them on our own eventually.

  “Let’s send them this,” I said, “I want an image of one of these flukes, and a strong negative signal. Deny we are the flukes, or that they are.”

  “Message sent,” Marvin said.

  I looked at him with a sudden thought. It would be so easy for him to screw us. Once again, I had placed myself within the power of a machine, reliant upon Marvin for my own well-being. The only reason I trusted him at all in this instance was that I was convinced he believed himself to be in danger as well.

  “Incoming message,” Marvin said suddenly. “It’s the same thing. Warrior, fluke and destruction.”

  “What is the symbol for machine? Do they have one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Send machine-destruction back,” I said.

  “Done…they’ve stop sending their repeated message,” Marvin said after a brief pause. While we worked with him, his four camera eyes studied his environment. One watched Welter at the helm controls. One watched me, while the last two seemed to be stretching until the nanite arm was wire-thin to watch Gorski with his calculations and recordings. I knew that Marvin was studying us just as closely as we were studying him.

  “The Worms must be puzzling it out,” Major Sarin said, speaking up for the first time. “They must be wondering why we are trying to talk to them at all.”

  “Any change in their approach, Gorski?” I asked.

  “None, sir.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Marvin, is there a symbol meaning the speaking individual? Something like a pronoun, such as ‘I’ or ‘me’?”

  “There is an image for the basic Worm. A common, non-specific individual.”

  “Sounds like ‘we’,” I said. “Send them the symbols for we, machine, negative.”

  “They are now responding with the symbol for of an egg-stealing mite,” Marvin said.

  “That means they are calling us liars, right?” I asked.

  “The symbol translates into thief, liar or villain,” Marvin said.

  “That can’t be good,” Gorski commented.

  “Wrong,” I said, shaking my head, “it is good, because it means they understood our message. Marvin, send them the liar image and the negative symbol. Then repeat we, machine, negative.”

  “They’ve stopped transmitting,” Marvin said.

  “Okay,” I said. “The question is how we prove to them we aren’t Macros, when we are in a Macro ship.”

  “Is there a symbol for a human?” Major Sarin asked.

  “No, not to my knowledge,” Marvin said.

  “Yeah, let’s not even tell them about that,” I said. “Remember, if they know we are humans, they’ve only seen us as the guys who fought our way into their city and blew it up. I think we are better off as anonymous, machine-hating friends.”

  “Is there s symbol for slave or servant?” asked Gorski. “Maybe we can tell them we are slaves that have broken away from their masters.”

  I liked that idea. Marvin selected appropriate symbols and we fired them off. The Worms declared us liars and villains from time to time, but with less frequency and repetition. Maybe they were beginning to believe us.

  “Now,” I said, “now is the moment to ask. Send them the symbol for hunting together—that fat sliced grub thing, along with machine and destruction. Intermix that with we are not machines off and on.”

  We all waited tensely for their reply. A full minute passed.

  “Anything?” I finally asked.

  “No response.”

  “Keep sending. But slowly, as if it is important and we want to make sure they got it, not as a frightened plea.”

  After another minute, a response finally came in. “They are sending hunting partner, and a tunnel mouth,” Marvin said.

  I grunted, not sure what to make of that. “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “We don’t have much time left, sir,” Gorski said.

  “I know Captain, I can read the clock,” I snapped back. I rubbed my face. “So, what does it mean? Do they want to hunt inside one of their mounds? On Helios?”

  “Does the tunnel mouth mean one of their mounds?” Gorski asked. “Or does it mean entry or exit?”

  “The symbol indicates leaving or arriving at a destination,” Marvin said.

  I nodded suddenly. “I think I have it,” I said. “They want us to leave. That is about the only way to prove we aren’t Macros. What do lone Macros generally do when they are wounded? They fight to the death. They only retreat if they are risking a large fleet. Singly they are always willing to die like ants protecting the nest, without worry or fear for their lives. If we turn around, that would indicate we are not Macros.”

  “Worth a try,” Major Welter said. He rubbed his hands together and lifted them to his control board like an orchestra conductor ready to conduct.

  “All right,” I said. I turned to Welter, who had been standing for the last twenty minutes with his arms crossed and looking positively bored. “Start it up. Turn our nose around and head slowly for the ring.”

  Major Welter did as I asked, but instead of a graceful maneuver, he caused the ship to whirl around in a sickening spin. Fortunately, it was over with quickly. “Sorry,” he said. He gently worked the controls and we nosed toward the ring.

  “Now,” I told Marvin, “transmit hunters-machine-destroy. Then send that me-Worm thing and the exit symbol. We’ll tell them we are allies against the Macros, and we are agreeing to leave.”

  “Done.”

  “Anything else from them?” I asked.

  “No.”

  I hissed in vexation. This was a golden opportunity. I didn’t have the feeling we’d forged an alliance, but rather we’d been told to get out and had finally agreed.

  “Let’s make them do something,” I said. “Welter, slow it down to a crawl, but keep moving. Marvin, is there a symbol for their fleet?”

  “They refer to themselves as the raging Worm warrior.”

  “Right,” I said. “Send them the Worm warrior and a symbol for stop. We want them to halt their attack approach and we’ll leave.”

  “Symbols sent.”

  “Response?”

  “None.”

  A long minute went by. The Worm ships were still approaching, and we were crawling out of their system.

  “Sir,” Gorski said. “We have to get underway now. At their speed, they will be able to come through the ring after us, overtake us and engage us in battle if we don’t get moving.”

  “Right,” I said. “Major Welter, slow it down even more.”

  “But sir…” Gorski began.

  I put my hand up into his face. He shut up. “Marvin,” I said, “rapidly send warrior-stop, warrior-stop, warrior-stop.”

  “Done.”

  We waited for thirty seconds, then thirty more. Gorski licked his lips and tapped madly at his tablet. I could tell he was sweating it. “I should prepare my missiles tubes, just in case,” he said.

  “Good idea,” I said. “Open them now, Captain.”

  “But wouldn’t that be interpreted—”

  “Yes,” I said, “exactly. It will be interpreted as a threat. If we are going to do what they want, they have to reciprocate. Otherwise, this isn’t an alliance.”

  “Opening the missile ports, sir,” Gorski said unhappily.

  “Repeat our message three more times, Marvin.”

  “Done.”

  Another span of time went by. No one talked, but the tension was thick in the room. “Order everyone to put on their battle suits,” I said quietly.

  Everyone jumped into action. It was as if they had been waiting for this order—and they probably had. I was already wearing
mine, but most of the bridge crew was not. They were cumbersome, especially when tapping at fragile screens. More than one of us had cracked a tablet screen with an exoskeletal, enhanced-strength fingertip.

  “Incoming message: the red sun,” Marvin said.

  “What’s the meaning?” I asked.

  “It is generally a positive symbol of agreement or good fortune,” Marvin said.

  “They are slowing down, sir,” Gorski said.

  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “Send them hunter-machine-destroy again,” I said. “Gorski, close the missile ports. Welter, get us the hell out of here!”

  The ship rocked with applied power before I’d finished my sentence. People cursed all around me, caught by surprise with their battle suits half on. They swayed and reached for balance. A few of them had to pick themselves up, including Major Sarin. I moved to help her up, but caught Sandra’s stern eye. I stopped and turned back to the control boards, pretending I hadn’t noticed Jasmine as she fell over and then picked herself up.

  Within a few minutes we were through the ring and flying across the Alpha Centauri system bound for home.

  -46-

  We took our time crossing the Alpha Centauri system. For the first time in a long while, we had the chance to survey a planetary system without any enemy ships poised to strike. I was still anxious to get home, but I didn’t want to squander this opportunity. I had the factory bricks build passive sensory satellites and we dropped them off behind us. I dropped them off in orbits all around the system. The last time a fleet had come to Earth, they’d done it through the other ring, the one on Venus that led to the blue giant system. But for all I knew, they had another large fleet past Eden. After learning of what we’d done, we had to expect a major reprisal. It was only a matter of time.

  I thought about planting a minefield of our own at the ring between Helios and Alpha Centauri, but decided against it. We’d just made our first steps toward understanding with the Worms. All the biotic species had to work together, in my estimation, to defeat the Macros. How would it look if we blew up a few of their ships when they got around to nosing their way into this neutral system?