by S. H. Jucha
“Not superior or inferior?” Sugatar asked.
“No,” Sargut replied. “I should point out that Alex has a close comrade. His name is Julien, and he’s a SADE. They’ve an unusual relationship that has to be seen to be believed.”
“How does clearing three ships of Artifice’s code help our fleet and advance our cause?” Taralum asked.
“I believe that you should ask Alex that question when you meet him, Commander,” Sargut replied.
-8-
Chistorlans
Lipsit doma Draga’s large bulging eyes opened even wider. She stared at the latest system scans. The images resolved with greater detail, as more data was collected, but there was no doubt that a fleet had arrived. She felt an urgency to sound a warning, but the fleet was detected beyond the far belt, which meant her data was nearly a quarter-cycle old.
Croaking her frustration, Lipsit gathered a few colleagues, who monitored Chistorlan space with her. There was time to warn the population, if they needed to return to their underground shelters. The population had done this, generations ago, when another fleet had arrived and broadcasted Artifice’s signal. Hundreds of thousands of Chistorlans had died on moons, asteroids, in ships, and on stations, as a result of that broadcast. This time, the Chistorlans were better prepared to weather a second visit.
Lipsit and her colleagues waited and watched, as new scans compiled. They were confused by the fleet’s lack of movement.
The observatory’s head, Miftra ona Grata, was requested to consult. The small male, who was dwarfed by Lipsit, flipped through the collection of scans. He checked the data to ensure the scans were paced the prescribed time apart.
“Have the records been checked?” Miftra asked.
“Thoroughly,” Lipsit. “We’ve no record of a race with these types of ships.”
“It’s probably a new race,” Miftra offered.
“We’ve been out of touch for generations, Miftra,” Lipsit replied. “It’s also possible that any number of races could have developed new technology, which would mean we might know the race but not its new ships.
Miftra croaked softly in reply. There was no telling who the new arrivals could be. It was odd that they sat out beyond the dense belt without moving.
“Could they be waiting for reinforcements?” a junior member of the department volunteered.
Lipsit croaked her amusement. “My young associate, it would take one battleship to destroy everything aboveground that we’ve created. Our true asset is the enormous extent of residency and infrastructure that we’ve built belowground.”
“More than likely, these ships would target our land operations,” Miftra explained. “They are probably unaware that our primary food sources are harvested from our vast waterways.”
“Artifice thinks of things that are digital in nature,” Lipsit continued. “We’re fortunate that it doesn’t eliminate our species by seeking to utterly destroy the planet.”
The associate muttered an apology, and Lipsit laid her splay-fingered hand on the youth’s arm. “Don’t let fear rule you,” she said sympathetically. “We’ve survived Artifice’s wrath before. We’ll survive it again. One day in the future, we’ll have our revenge.”
“We’ve enough data, Lipsit,” Miftra said. “Collect it. We must inform the monarch.”
The pair of Chistorlans used an exit in the observatory’s lowest level to enter a broad tunnel. A transit system operated there. It was constructed after Artifice’s attack, which destroyed infrastructure systemwide.
In the early days, after the tunnels were dug, it was recorded that the population walked the tunnels. Later, simple motorized vehicles were propelled along parallel tracks. Today, cars floated on mag-lifts and shot along single rails. All the new cars and their control systems were unconnected to aboveground infrastructure. A second attack would not set the Chistorlans as far back in time as the first had done.
Miftra and Lipsit changed cars several times, as they entered stations and set off in new directions. They entered the monarch’s residence the same way that every entry was made to access any surface structure — from underground.
Miftra requested an audience with the monarch on urgent observatory business. Lipsit and he were led up several flights to the upper chambers. A fountain, spilling water in a gentle cascade, sat in the middle of the main entryway. It called to the two Chistorlans, who stopped to admire it.
“Our citizens do love their waters,” Gramab doma Farla-Hesta, the Chistorlans’ female monarch, said from another doorway.
“Monarch,” Miftra responded, turning and dipping his head, as did Lipsit.
“I was told you have urgent business, Miftra. Come, sit, and update me,” Gramab invited the observatory scientist. The monarch descended from a line of no-nonsense, practical females, whose duty was to safeguard the population. Only the brightest and most conscientious female offspring of the previous monarch was chosen to lead.
Miftra accessed a data display unit, while the two females sat on stools that allowed them to lock their powerful legs in lower structures. A female’s protruding spinal ridges prevented her from leaning back into a seat or couch. At night, Chistorlan females rested most comfortably in shallow pools in their domiciles. They could float and sleep, while water buoyed their round bodies.
“Lipsit brought this data to my attention,” Miftra said, introducing the display. It was typical of Chistorlan male behavior to be attentive to female needs, including giving credit when it was due.
Gramab listened attentively to the presentation, asking no questions.
“I’ll require quarterly updates every cycle, despite the hour,” Gramab said, when Miftra finished. “Conjectures?” she asked.
“There’s no match in the ships’ records, and the fleet sitting out beyond … makes it difficult to guess,” Miftra supplied.
“Could Artifice have discovered what we’re doing?” Lipsit inquired.
“How could it?” Gramab asked.
“We know two of Artifice’s probes sit out there,” Miftra mused. “They would have recorded our return to the surface. Perhaps, it’s not that Artifice is aware of what we’re doing. Maybe, it’s Artifice’s intention to reduce us again, because we dared to resist it in the first place.”
“That would make more sense,” Gramab agreed. “But then why does this fleet sit out there in the beyond?”
“If Artifice’s execute program was sent belatedly, we might not have received it yet,” Lipsit suggested. “Maybe it’s on the way.”
“To do what?” Gramab asked. “We’ve insulated every significant operation from an aerial comm network, and the critical operations are safe belowground.”
“What troubles me is the size of this fleet,” Miftra mused.
“Be more specific,” Gramab requested.
“This fleet doesn’t make sense, Monarch,” Miftra protested. “If a fleet was assigned to bring us Artifice’s code, why so many ships? If the fleet was sent to destroy our surface structures, why sit out there?”
“Perhaps it’s a new race, who has received Artifice’s orders, and it’s being careful, waiting for data to update before it enters the system,” Lipsit volunteered.
“That’s plausible,” Gramab allowed. “I’ll have the population transfer any critical data or items underground. We’ll have plenty of warning time to make final preparations. Keep me apprised.”
Miftra and Lipsit rose, bowed briefly, and made their way to the lowest level to exit the residence.
Gramab stared at the last data image on display. “Will I be the monarch who oversees our reduction a second time?” she muttered.
* * *
“We had a longer distance to travel than the black ships. Why are we the first to arrive?” Tatia asked Cordelia, after the Omnians transited into the space outside the Chistorlan system. The SADE had relayed the report from the Vivian’s Mirror.
“Admiral, we’ve no comparative data on the transit times of federacy sh
ips,” Cordelia replied. “While we might have had the longer distance, we might have transited faster.”
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Reiko said.
“Neither did we,” Cordelia added, referring to SADEs, in general.
“Unless it isn’t possible, and the black ships didn’t intend to come here,” Tatia proposed.
“They’re coming, Admiral,” Renée remarked. “To suggest otherwise is to say that Alex can’t read aliens.”
“Maybe these aliens are different … a devious sort,” Tatia suggested.
“It’s possible, and maybe Alex is losing his touch,” Renée offered.
Tatia considered the possibilities and chose to end the discussion without creating worry among the Omnians. “They’re coming,” she allowed.
“Cordelia, scout ships, please,” Tatia requested. When Tatia was cued by Cordelia that Miriam had established links, she sent,
Cordelia activated the bridge holo-vid. The Chistorlan system was represented, as were the positions of the Omnian fleet and the four scout ships.
From where the fleet sat, the two probes were nearly one hundred and eighty degrees apart around the ecliptic, and the fleet sat nearly equidistant from them.
“Why two probes? What did this race do to rate this type of scrutiny?” Reiko mused out loud.
“And yet, as Admiral Shimada asks, Why two probes?” Renée queried.
“This gets stranger and stranger,” Reiko said. “A barely habitable planet. A devastated system. Yet, two probes monitor this space. Black ships are on their way, and Alex warns us to protect the planet from possible attack.”
“That about sums it up,” Tatia agreed, but her lips were twisted in a sour expression.
“There’s no sneaking around now,” Tatia said. “Admiral Shimada, deploy two Trident squadrons to prosecute those devices.”
“With pleasure,” Reiko replied and ordered two squadrons to eradicate the probes.
The squadrons made short transits above, across, and down the ecliptic to reach the probes to avoid being trapped in system if an aggressor fleet arrived. They entered the system near the probes, and the scout ships vacated the areas. Then the Tridents took up stationary positions a good distance from their targets. Immediately afterwards, a single banisher was launched from each squadron.
The relatively small, self-contained devices sought out the probes, which detonated on contact, as most of them had done. The resulting explosions resulted in the massive destruction of any nearby objects.
The SADEs carefully measured the flares and compared them to database records. Satisfied that they were within the usual parameters, they archived the information.
“It’s just as well that we’re here first, Admiral,” Cordelia suggested to Tatia. “Before the probes were detonated, they’ll have reported our presence. And what won’t be contained in their data is the presence of Toralian ships, which Artifice would expect to see attacking us.”
“Good point,” Tatia acknowledged.
“Orders, Admiral?” Reiko requested.
“Head the fleet in system, Admiral Cordelia,” Tatia ordered. “Coordinate with Admiral Reiko on defensive emplacements to protect the habitable planet.”
The water-dominated world was on a near pass to the Omnian fleet. It was only a matter of days before the fleet took up positions around it.
The scout ships resumed their perimeter patrol, and the two Trident squadrons hurried to join their commands. The fleet had no sooner established a defensive perimeter around the home world than a scout ship reported the transit of a fleet.
This fleet isn’t arriving from the direction of Talus, Cordelia thought.
The human admirals were asleep. So, Cordelia chose to alert the fleet’s bridge officers of the newcomers, adding that details were forthcoming. She left it to them to warn their captains and commanders, if they wished.
When Tatia was awake, refreshed, and had eaten, Cordelia updated her on the incoming fleet.
Tatia requested a conference with the fleet admirals, as she signaled to Reiko to join her on the bridge.
Tatia was mollified by Cordelia’s response. There was nothing to be done last night and not for several more days.
Omnian Tridents were fast and maneuverable. Their beam strength outclassed enemy fighters or other small ships, but Tridents had never taken on federacy battleships.
As the scout ship’s data flowed to the fleet’s controllers, admirals, commodores, and captains displayed close ups of the inbound ships on their holo-vids. The data gave them accurate details of the overall lengths and armament ports.
Tatia and Reiko, who had been focused on the wedge’s lead ship, shifted their holo-vid’s view.
The SADEs delved into the data records and extrapolated from Linn’s imagery to reach a conclusion.
Planet killers, Reiko thought. Her thought escaped her implant, and it chilled th
e hearts of the human admirals.
SADEs busily calculated the possible details of these enormous missiles — armament head size, destructive force, and acceleration. It was all conjecture, but it kept them from considering the effect of such a horrific weapon on a population.
-9-
Battleships
Days earlier, Miftra had collected the latest scans from Lipsit, and the pair descended below the observatory, caught a car, and made their way to the monarch’s residence. They’d been making this trip every quarter cycle for Gramab since they’d discovered the presence of the fleet.
When the smooth-hulled ships, with the massive circular one in their midst, homed in on their planet, Gramab had sounded the warning, and all nonessential Chistorlans headed underground with their data and critical materials.
As was the custom, Miftra played the latest scans, while the monarch and the scientist watched from their stools.
“Conjectures?” Gramab requested, as had become her habit.
“If we weren’t so cut off from the other races, we might understand the actions of this race overhead,” Miftra lamented.
“I think its actions are self-evident, even if we don’t understand the reasons,” Lipsit countered. “Yes, this fleet rings our planet, but look at the direction the ships face.”
“Outward,” Gramab acknowledged.
“A protective ring,” Lipsit announced definitively. “They have knowledge of an impending event and are choosing to intervene.”
“An event of this nature, requiring the intervention of a fleet, can only mean one thing,” Gramab reasoned. “Artifice is preparing a second intervention against us.”
“But a fleet, such as this one, can’t stop the broadcast of Artifice’s programs. This makes no sense,” Miftra protested.
“It does if you believe that Artifice doesn’t intend to use code this time,” Lipsit said quietly.
