Animus Intercept

by Lawrence Ambrose

  The briefing paper read about as Zane had expected until the last page. They – meaning Patricia – would try to talk their way into Preserve 2447 again, but this time they'd fly in using anti-grav flight packs, which Patricia believed wouldn't violate the preserve's technology prohibitions. They'd be armed with aug suits and DAK rifles. No surprises there.

  One small surprise was Command's interest in the alien space craft hangar located outside their targeted preserve. Command wanted one of those ships, if possible. Zane reflected that he probably shouldn't have been surprised by that. God only knew what those ships could do.

  The big surprise was that in response to several probes of Animus after the Cheyenne and Peacemaker crews had gone missing, Command scientists, after determining that Animus was composed of dark matter, had devoted much of the last three years to: 1) creating dark matter, and 2) designing something that could penetrate/destroy it.

  The bad news, if you were Space Command, was that they'd failed to create dark matter. The good news was that Dr. Lance Spencer and his team and created a nanite they believed was capable of eating dark matter. It was very complicated, far beyond Zane's relatively lowbrow I.Q., but the gist was that new nanites would use entangled mini-black holes to break down the exotic matter. Since mini-black holes had been secretly created by CERN several years previously, the groundwork for entangling them had been at least theoretically laid.

  And it remained only theory until USSC and a consortium of top government scientists had managed to penetrate a few millimeters into Animus's previously impenetrable dark matter surface seven months ago. That success had led to a flurry of researching and testing with an unlimited budget, culminating in the small cylindrical object portrayed on the final page of the mission paper.

  The object contained a MAME bomb-dark matter-eating ND combo-package that Control was calling "Doomsday." The idea was not for the NDs to consume the planet as before but to burrow out a tunnel leading to Animus's core. From Patricia's knowledge, gleaned in her data-exchange with the Keeper, the core housed a massive energy source that powered the sphere and all its operations. Though the Keeper's technical knowledge was limited, Patricia extrapolated that a constellation of mini-black holes developing "Hawking Radiation" – the theoretical consequence of one of a pair of entangled photons falling into a black hole – was the source of Animus's near-unimaginable power. Command scientists agreed.

  Piling theories on hypotheses, Patricia and company speculated that a large explosion could destabilize the core black hole network. The existence of numerous vents leading to the surface seemed to imply that the builders had considered such a destabilization a possibility. The venting of that kind of energy might substantially alter Animus's orbital trajectory. By happy coincidence – or perhaps to avoid impacting the preserves - the vents predominately pointed to the "western" part of the planet (from an Earth-approach perspective), the right direction to push Animus away from Earth.

  For Zane, it all had a desperate, over-the-top Rube Goldbergian/Hail Mary feel to it. Also, a destabilization of Animus's core would have devastating effects on life within the preserve they knew and all the other preserves they didn't. Millions of sentient beings would die, including Zzullzhrun – assuming she made it back to Preserve 2447. But then desperation bred desperate measures. The human race came first. Zane just hoped they could communicate with Azzizz or some AI that was in charge – and that the AI would be willing and able to change the sphere's orbit. Both struck him as extreme long-shots on top of a pyramid of long-shots.

  "If we really did awaken this thing," said Dan, "and it was studying us – knowing enough about us to seamlessly cover that time lapse - wouldn't it already know what we want?"

  Colonel Hurtle shrugged and turned to the resident AI authority. Dr. Spencer inspected his cufflinks with his usual aloof intensity.

  "Possibly," he said. "But sometimes it's necessary to pray to a god to get what you want."

  "Are you fucking serious?" Mallory snorted.

  "To clarify, we might have to ask for its intervention. It could be that it's too intelligent or too alien to fully grasp our intentions or desires."

  "Sounds like you just said it's too smart to understand us." Mallory smirked.

  "Exactly. Do we understand the motivations of ants? Do we grasp their thought processes?"

  "We do if we run an ant colony," said Dan.

  "Do we have any evidence that this AI could even move Animus?" Andrea asked.

  "No," said Patricia. "The only power sufficient to change Animus's trajectory that I can detect would come from a core destabilization."

  "In theory." Skepticism was thick in Dan Mueller's voice.

  "Yes."

  "If we did blow the core power center, wouldn't that kill everything in Animus?" Zane asked.

  "That's already happened at least once before. The Keeper described the period after the planetary collision as, interpreting it roughly, a 'reset' following the 'central energy source decomposition.' From the losses that occurred then we can estimate those that would occur now."

  "So how many creatures died in that 'reset'?" asked Andrea.

  "The sentient species in Preserve Prime 2447 suffered eighty-seven percent fatal casualties or approximately 8,345,552 lives. Non-sentient species was sixty-three percent, with a loss of 22,436,985 lives, excluding the non-sentient insect population."

  Those statistics circled like dour vultures around the room.

  "And that's only what the Keeper of that one preserve knew about," said Zane. "My understanding is there could be ten or more preserves of that size down there."

  "There's also a critical uncertainty about the venting system," Dan added. "What if there are vents this Keeper doesn't know about that point in other directions? In that case, Animus could be pushed closer to or even into Earth."

  "You people really know how to spoil a party." Hurtle's short laugh conveyed minimal humor. "Just to keep things in perspective, we're talking about billions of human lives lost."

  "That's right," said Mallory. "Fuck Animus and its smart bugs and its killer wildlife. They all tried to put us in the ground, remember?"

  "Good point," said Horace.

  "That doesn't mean they deserve to die," said Adele, tossing her red hair back over her shoulders. Horace patted one of her shoulders and she shook his hand away. Zane guessed something was going on between them, knowing his old friend. And knowing Horse, it wasn't coming to a good end.

  "Never said they did," Mallory growled. "But it's people first."

  "Damn right," said Horse. "Anyone who doesn't agree on that shouldn't be on this mission."

  Adele edged away from him but said nothing.

  "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," said Colonel Hurtle. "Attempting to blow the core would be a last-ditch effort."

  "Why wouldn't the Guardians stop them just like they did the Pac Men?" Mallory asked.

  "Our scientists hope that by launching 'Doomsday' closer to the sphere's core it will escape their vigilance. But, as I'm sure it's needless to say, this whole mission is a hope and a prayer deal."

  "Amen," Mallory grumbled.

  Colonel Hurtle waved a thick hand as if to swat aside their doubts. "Look, my friends, all we can do is take our best shot. In my personal opinion, if anyone can make this happen and live to tell about it, it's you people."

  Zane exchanged a dry look with Mallory and Horse. Patricia was smiling and nodding as if she whole-heartedly approved of Hurtle's flattering statement. Zane was glad for the opportunity for one last chance at saving a good portion of humanity, but "Plan B" and Doomsday device were putting a damper on his initial enthusiasm. But then Plan A wasn't looking all that great, either.

  On the plus side, his ex-wife and son were presumably safe, occupying a room in Housing Unit Twelve in a vast hardened bunker system 1.2 miles beneath the Denver International Airport, a major hub of the National Underground Complex. He'd be joining them when he returned from the miss
ion, though he was assigned to a housing unit two levels down.

  That was the good news. The not-so-good news was that Valerie's fiancé, Mark Miller, would be coming with her, sharing her and Tyler's quarters. In what David called the "cuckold move of the century," when Zane's father had finally turned down his invitation, Zane had relented on keeping Mark surface-bound. In the end it had just seemed too petty and heartless to separate Valerie from her new love. Even though listening to her gush about Mark loving Tyler, too – and wanting to be a 'good second father' to him - made Zane reconsider the idea of leaving Mark above ground.

  But at least I'm going to get to be a parent, Zane thought, mentally slapping himself. Unless their mission succeeded, a lot of people would never have that opportunity.

  Chapter 15

  "ANIMUS ISN'T RESPONDING, CAPTAIN."

  "You've tried alternative frequencies?" Zane asked.

  "The former frequency and every conceivable alternative, sir."

  Zane stepped back from the holograph of Animus that filled the forward cabin, releasing the breath he hadn't been aware of holding for the last twenty seconds.

  "Man," said Mallory. "This could be the shortest Command mission in history."

  "Esss eeee rrry," Zzullzhrun buzzed/hummed.

  "You want to try?" Zane wasn't quite sure about his translation. "Go for it. Focus the com on her, Patricia."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Whenever you're ready, Zzuull."

  Zzullzhrun spoke loudly in her own language, her translated words booming through the speakers.

  "Great spirit of Zanali, I am Zzullzhrun, one of your people, asking for admission to my world. Will you open yourself to me?"

  The sphere hung, dark and motionless, framed by stars it did not reflect. Seconds trudged by, the crew as silent and motionless as the sphere. Zane edged over to his chair and sat down.

  He'd just gotten comfortable when Patricia announced in her usual preternaturally calm voice: "Aperture opening - in the northwest quadrant again."

  Zane clenched the sides of his chair, electric tingles running through his arms.

  "That's my girl!" Horace's chuckle rolled in from his ship over the speakers. Zane knew he and his crew were raptly regarding the image along with them. "Damn good thing we brought the blue wasp along."

  "Yeah," Zane breathed out. "Thank you, Zzuull."

  "Oooorrr eellom."

  An uneasy laugh spread among the crew, echoed faintly on Horace's end.

  "So what are we supposed to think?" Mallory asked. "That the Great AI heard that? Or was it the Guardians or some other mindless machine?"

  "No way to know," said Dan. "The only certain thing is that Animus had altered its entrance protocols."

  "Whatever the case," said Zane. "We're going in. Horse, hang out here. Give us five days, and then return home. Do not attempt to enter Animus."

  "What a killjoy. I was looking forward to going another round with the yellow jackets."

  "I'll be sure to give them your warmest regards." Zane paused, considering his next words carefully. "Horse, I know if we don't return in the allotted time you'll be tempted to come after us. Aside from the fact that I'm ordering you otherwise, I hope you'll agree that if we fail that we probably did so because we encountered a force we couldn't handle – a force you would likely also be incapable of handling. There'd be no point in sacrificing you and your crew's lives. One of us should make it back alive."

  Some moments passed before Horace replied in a muted voice, "I'll keep that in mind."

  "See you in a bit, then."

  "I'll be waiting. Get 'er done, Captain."

  "Count on it."

  Zane nodded to his Chief Navigator. "Andrea, take us in."

  IT WAS a lot like last time, except there was no sign of the Guardians. Walls dematerialized and reappeared without further requests from Zzuull or Patricia. Whoever or whatever was monitoring their progress, Zane thought, had done away with the middle man.

  They flew slowly into the alien ship hangar toward the symbols that marked the entrance into Preserve Prime 2447. On cue, the entrance through the wall appeared before them. Andrea directed the Cheyenne into its previous cubbyhole between walls.

  A doorway in the second wall materialized. Once again they were gazing out on a primeval combination of African veldt and deep, rainforest-like jungle. They donned their PA suits and flight packs and rolled out "Doomsday" - the six-foot, three hundred pound grey cylinder containing the theoretically dark matter-eating NDs and the one gigaton MAME bomb. Mallory and Lieutenant Gordon Haley didn't anticipate any problems carrying it in flight with their aug suits.

  Zane, Patricia, Mallory, and Halley left the ship with Zzullzhrun, leaving Dan and Andrea behind. The plan was for Zzuull to ride on Zane's back, since they'd be flying far faster than Zzuull's top speed. They moved to the opening while the hangar wall behind them rematerialized.

  Mallory and Haley, walking side by side in the lead, stopped in mid-step as if they'd hit the wall.

  "They're not letting this thing in," said Mallory. He tried to edge his body past the cylinder, but hit the same invisible wall. "Wait a minute. They're not letting us in."

  Without speaking, Zzullzhrun strode past them into the patch of grass beyond the entrance. She turned, her multi-faceted eyes shining a puzzled pink.

  Then the wall reappeared. One eye-blink and Zzuull and the preserve were gone.

  "No way," Mallory whispered.

  He and Lieutenant Haley lowered the cylinder to the ground. No one else moved for several breaths.

  "Patricia," said Zane. "Can you broadcast Zzullzhrun's request, using a recording of her words?"

  "Yes, sir. Broadcasting now."

  They waited. Mallory paced around the nose of the Cheyenne, staring upward.

  "No response, sir."

  The hangar wall entrance reappeared. Everyone shuffled around to face it.

  "I'd say that's a subtle suggestion," said Mallory.

  "It's obvious the locks have been changed," said Zane. "We're not being permitted any further."

  "Do you plan to deploy Doomsday?" asked Lieutenant Haley.

  Zane frowned, happy the others couldn't see his face and the conflict he knew was written there through a aug suit mask. The plan to communicate with Azzizz or whomever through the Keeper had been stopped, presumably by Azzizz or the AI in question itself. Their current circumstances met the requirements for unleashing the Doomsday, but the idea of killing so many sentient beings not so far removed from humanity – including Zzullzhrun herself – sickened him. Killing a large percentage of this world on the chance that it would alter Animus's course for the better struck him as one hell of a Machiavellian gamble. And the fact was, he'd never been directly ordered to take this action. He was supposed to assess the situation and act as he believed was best.

  "Patricia, broadcast a request in Zikkan to alter the course of Animus," said Zane. "Explain our situation, but of course say nothing about Doomsday."

  "I'm broadcasting an explanation and request now, Captain Cameron."

  They waited for five minutes. Mallory resumed pacing in front of the Cheyenne. Lieutenant Haley sat down on the grey cylinder. Zane heard Dan humming something – sounded like a Bach fugue.

  "How many times have you sent the message?" Zane broke the silence.

  "Ten times, sir."

  "If it hasn't responded by now..." Mallory trailed off. "What the hell is wrong with this thing? Why doesn't it communicate with us directly?"

  "Maybe it's shy," said Zane. "Patricia, can you see any point in continuing to transmit the message?"

  "I don't think so, sir. Who or whatever has been monitoring our progress and communications has heard and I believe understood the broadcast."

  "Then it would know about Doomsday," said Mallory.

  "If it did, why would it let us in?" Zane asked.

  "Maybe because Doomsday's no threat," Dan chimed in from the ship.

  "Sir, on th
e assumption it hasn't picked up on it," said Lieutenant Haley, "maybe we should stop talking about it."

  "Why don't we just launch the damn thing and find out?" Mallory flipped a hand toward the cylinder. "Those are our orders, right?"

  "My orders were to assess the situation and make my decision at the time," said Zane.

  "So what's it gonna be, Cap? The clock's ticking."

  "We're talking about millions of lives, including Zzulle's. That's something you want to rush into?"

  "Hey, better them than us." Mallory jerked a hand toward the hanger door. "You think that door's gonna be open forever?"

  Zane swallowed hard against his rising exasperation. "Anyone else have any thoughts?"

  "Does our current location alter the probability of where the core demolition might vent most forcefully?" Dan asked.

  "Not that I can see," said Patricia. "The Overseer's vent grid showed a strong bias toward the east side of the sphere. Where the explosive enters the core shouldn't matter. The chain-reaction destabilization should spread in seconds through the entire core."

  The loss of life and the risks of something going wrong, Zane thought, were outweighed by the prospect of billions of human lives being saved. As Mallory had put it, "People uber alles – "

  Zane's thoughts ground to a halt as he noticed Lieutenant Haley bending suddenly to press the three activation panels spaced centimeters apart on the cylinder's topside, causing them all to light up. The yellow panel on one end began blinking. Zane and the others stared at Haley in startled disbelief.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing, Lieutenant?" Zane asked.

  "Arming the device and activating the burrowing NDs, sir."