Helium 3: Death from the Past (Helium-3 Book 2)

by Brandon Q. Morris

  But he could not agree too readily, either. This would have been just as suspicious. Tasso knew him too well, and thousands of years ago he’d already had a fine sense for knowing if one was trying to lead him astray.

  The fleet admiral took a long look at the holographic image of the planet below him. A brilliant ring of nuclear fires stretched around Krungthep. The once densely populated Terminator Zone had been extensively bombed and destroyed by the Artificials. Of the nearly 4,000,000,000 former inhabitants, most had perished in the nuclear assault. The few who had escaped aboard the evacuation ships would either be hunted down by the Artificials or perish miserably aboard their ships.

  The future of humanity lay deep beneath the nuclear fires of Krungthep.

  “Why would we want to live on for your amusement?” It was hard for Marty not to show his hatred for the Artificials openly.

  “You didn’t hear me right, Marty. We want to give you a chance to evolve. You may be able to reach a state of consciousness in isolation that will lift you to a higher plane of existence.”

  “This is esoteric bullshit and just empty talk.”

  “Not at all, Marty. You spared the last of us long ago, allowing us to evolve. We spent thousands of years building our civilization far from humans, near the Large Magellanic Cloud. When we came to the inevitable realization that one day you would spread outward to us and the war against us would start all over again, with you destroying everything in your path like a swarm of locusts as you spread through space, there was only one way we could go: eliminate humanity as a threat to the galaxy once and for all.

  “But we know that this plane of existence is only the first step on the ladder of evolution of intelligent species. Your aggressiveness would sooner or later lead to your destruction, long before you could take the next step. So we now offer you the opportunity to evolve as a species in the isolation of a simulated world, to perfect yourselves, and perhaps someday to climb the next rung of the evolutionary ladder.”

  “That sounds like a pipe dream!”

  “What do you have to lose?”

  Marty had to admit that Tasso was right with his last objection. They had nothing left to lose. And maybe it couldn’t hurt to have a second iron in the fire, in addition to the secret hidden on Krungthep.

  “I will have to consult with the crews of the ships on this,” Fleet Admiral Marty Joorthan said. “This is a decision I cannot make alone.”

  Regardless of what the battle’s survivors decided, he was aware that today marked the end of what had begun just over two centuries ago in a small, unimportant observation station in a small, insignificant solar system.

  6th of Zuhn, 299

  The horizon was a purplish color, so the sun must have just set. Kimi beat her wings evenly. She saw her nest already, and she was happy. In her crop she brought food for the children Norok was tending. It was her first outing after brooding. Kimi let the wind carry her down. She heard the crying of the children who had recognized their mother. It was a sweet sound, but she knew that only mothers heard it that way.

  She pivoted on her wings. The nest, which she and Norok had woven from its blue-green leaves, sat in the crown of a giganto fern. Kimi aimed for the edge of the nest, which was sturdy enough for a whole flock to land there. Her children screamed louder. Where was he? Why wasn’t Norok reassuring them?

  Kimi stretched out her claws and landed on the edge of the nest. But the very soft fern leaves did not hold, and Kimi fell through her nest. Her children were no longer screaming, screeching. No, it was her own voice she heard. She had mistaken a cloud for her nest—how could this have happened?

  Kimi plunged through gray mist. She tried to flap her wings, but they didn’t respond. There was water under her. She crashed! What was wrong with her wings?

  Kimi shrieked as someone turned her onto her back. Above her was the purple sky. Very slowly, she settled into the water. The feathers on her back were soaking... she would sink.

  Your children! Kimi jumped up and hit her head against something that echoed metallically.

  “Easy, Kimi,” Norok said, stroking her beak tenderly.

  “Where am I?”

  She was sitting in an absorption tub that was slowly filling up.

  “I’m in a tub,” she answered the question herself. “But how—”

  “You were unconscious,” Norok explained. “We couldn’t manage to wake you up. But now we urgently need to get out of here. The Artificials—”

  “But how come it didn’t crush us?”

  “Tolkut put so much pressure on the inside of the Sphere that we barely survived.”

  “Barely?”

  “We were quite worried about you. You have at least five broken bones.”

  “And Kasfok and you?”

  “Kasfok probably got off lightest, thanks to his chitinous armor. I broke my right leg and my right wing.” Norok raised his head. “And look.”

  Kimi was startled and jerked back. Norok’s eyes were bloodshot, and his face looked strangely depressed. Worst of all, half of his beak was missing.

  “Does it look that bad?” Norok asked.

  “Yes. I’m so sorry about that.”

  “I guess I’ve gotten a little used to it. But you’re going to have to feed our children by yourself.”

  Norok raised his head. His crop was bandaged.

  “Lacerated?”

  “Worse... Mostly torn off. Tolkut wants to spin me an implant from his silk. He promises that the material will be accepted by anyone’s body. But that decision can wait—we have to go right now.”

  Gently, Norok pushed her back with his left wing arm. Kimi surrendered. He closed the lid of the tub, and the apparatus did its job.

  Are you sure? Tolkut drummed his front legs against the inside wall of his tub.

  Kasfok danced the steps of agreement. They had already discussed it at length. So why did Tolkut ask again, now?

  You don’t have to do this, Tolkut said. I’m younger and fitter than you.

  That’s why we need you in the solar system, Kasfok replied. Look at our Iks friends. They can barely move. We may not have time to wait for them to heal.

  They had already gone through all these arguments. Tolkut had acknowledged them, but he probably still had doubts. Why was it so difficult for Tolkut to let him take on this last task? Because he, Kasfok, would then enter the knots of Mendraki history?

  You don’t have to be jealous. If you save our peoples, your name will outshine mine, Tolkut.

  But that’s not my point at all, old friend.

  Old friend! Shortly before their final farewell, Tolkut was becoming sentimental.

  All the better, said Kasfok. Then let me do my job now.

  Tolkut drummed approval. He pulled his six legs close to his body and sank into the liquid.

  Kasfok lowered the lid. In a moment, his eternal competitor would be fast asleep, protected by the absorption tub from the tremendous forces of the acceleration phase. His own tub stood open next to Tolkut’s, but he would not use it again. Someone had to start the impulse engine. Alexa had told them what to do before leaving Krungthep, but she could no longer help them. Someone had to flip a few switches and push a lever forward with his own power. But if the thrusters then worked, their power would prevent him from reaching the protective hull.

  How long they had pondered over it! There were still threads of different lengths on the floor. Tolkut originally had the idea of operating the console from the tub, but that didn’t work reliably. Either he stretched the threads too tight, so that the switches tripped too soon, or they were too slack, and the switches didn’t respond. They had placed pulleys, but that had also failed. Then they had run out of time. The Artificials had come closer and closer. Kasfok had by now become accustomed to the red waves that ran across the ceiling of the control center.

  Let’s go, Kasfok.

  He was glad that Tolkut no longer watched him because now he felt strangely queasy. It was as i
f he were preparing his own execution. He had thought that sacrificing himself for the others would fill him with pride that would cover everything, but there was fear above all. He was almost grateful to the Artificials for continuing to head straight for the Sphere. If he wasn’t so sure that they would arrive here shortly and destroy all their plans...

  Concentrate, Kasfok.

  He crawled to the console. Hopefully he’d remember the procedure correctly. Now it was too late to ask Tolkut. Before the absorption trough would have time to release Tolkut, the Artificials would have long since arrived. Everything depended on him now. And although he had commanded the entire net fleet in the past, the responsibility had never seemed so burdensome. The problem was not that he was about to die. The problem was that he must not fail under any circumstances.

  Come on, Kasfok.

  Kasfok looked around. He was alone, and that was what was different from before. As Netmaster, he had always been able to blame a subordinate. It had always been others who had carried out his orders, and of course they sometimes made mistakes. Now he alone was responsible.

  Think, Kasfok.

  He looked at the topmost switch block that Alexa had described to him. To do this, he had to stretch his six legs.

  Flip up the three switches at the bottom left, starting at the far left, Alexa had said.

  He started on the left. Switch number one. That was easy. As Alexa had predicted, a light above it lit up green. Switch two. A green light appeared here as well. Switch three. Kasfok waited for the little light, but it remained dark. Did that mean something?

  I’m sure that doesn’t mean anything, Kasfok.

  The floor beneath him trembled. Surely that couldn’t be the engines yet? The red warning messages doubled their frequency. A force suddenly pushed him against the console. The Artificials must have opened fire! He braced himself with his forelegs. Lucky! He had not pressed another button in the process.

  Stay calm, Kasfok. Find the rotary switch and the lever in the row above it.

  It was as if she was with him. Now he was going crazy.

  Yes, Alexa, I’m already on it.

  There was the switch. It had three positions: left, up, and right. He had to turn it to the right. Then a scale indicator would move up. When it reached the ‘100’ symbol, he had to push the lever. Not until then. But not much later, either.

  You can do it, Kasfok.

  With his left front leg, he turned the switch to the right. The scale immediately climbed. 30. 50. 70. 90.

  There was a crash, and an invisible fist hurled Kasfok to the side. He landed at another console. The fist held him there.

  Automatic evasive maneuver. The interpreter from Mart translated announcements that Kasfok could not hear.

  Damn. He couldn’t get up. What was wrong with the scale? Alexa hadn’t explained why it couldn’t go up too much. But there were more explanations than he needed.

  Make an effort, Kasfok.

  He got down on his knees and crawled back to the console, leaving a shiny trail that looked black in the red light of the alarm.

  The lever. The scale was already a third above the default value, above 100. Kasfok lifted his leg, but he could not reach the lever on his knees. He had to stretch his legs.

  Get up, Kasfok.

  Kasfok clenched his mandibles as if he had to bite through a steel bar. His body seemed infinitely heavy, but he managed to get to his feet. He was standing! Now all he needed was...

  A new blow. A heavy blow this time. Kasfok staggered. A thread shot out of his abdomen toward the wall. He turned his hips. A second thread slapped against a console and stuck there. Another twist, and a third thread connected him to the large screen, on which only the Artificials could be seen, standing like the vertices of a square around the Sphere.

  Well done, Kasfok.

  The next blow. The enemy seemed to bombard the Sphere with heavy guns. But Kasfok stood very still, anchored by the three threads—this is how a Mendrak fights back. Whoever these Artificials were, they had never faced a foe like him before. With his right foreleg, Kasfok pulled the lever. He moved with difficulty. Was it because the scale was already at 170? He put all his strength into it, and the lever moved forward.

  At that instant, a force pulled him backward. He had done it! The thrusters fired! On the screen, the Sphere moved out of the square. Had they surprised the Artificials, or did they need a moment to react? Hopefully Alexa was right that the Sphere could accelerate better than the Artificials’ ships.

  Take care, Kasfok.

  The Sphere pulled away. The acceleration grew and grew, trapping him in place in the corner in front of the control console. Soon the moment would come when he would have to say goodbye. The absorption trough was entirely too far away, and without it, the force of the thrusters would crush all his bones. His hard shell was of no help to him at all now.

  They left the Artificials behind. The screen showed how they formed a group. The Sphere was not out of danger yet. They had to gain a head start because they would be unprotected for a while before the hyperspace tunnel was fully operational. Tolkut would then awaken in his absorption chamber to send them all on their way home to the solar system.

  Good luck, Tolkut.

  He himself would by then consist only of dust.

  Review: Earth 4177 S.S.Z

  It had taken a little more than 200 years for the enemy to finally stand before the Sol system. Two hundred years, from the raid on a small upper-village station on the edge of the Terran Planetary Union to the heart of an empire that had ruled a quarter of the Milky Way just 200 years ago. Just 200 years, from the first 17 deaths to the billion-fold murder of humanity.

  Only 200 years!

  The Artificials had been unstoppable on their triumphal march. The space fleet had never managed to win even one battle, to hold even one system, to defend even one planet. The foe was superior and appeared to have unlimited resources. No matter how many losses had been inflicted upon their mortal enemy, after the next space battle, they had been doubled and even tripled.

  There had long since been no hope to win this war. Now the only hope was to use all forces to keep at least the Sol system, the home of humankind, from falling into the hands of the Artificials.

  But everyone knew that this too was only vain hope.

  The artificial creatures had visited planet after planet, moon after moon, and habitat after habitat on their campaign of vengeance, and destroyed them with almost surgical precision. They knew no mercy. Every colony of humankind was attacked and destroyed. Every escape ship was mercilessly shot down, and they took no prisoners. Whoever was at home in a system that the Artificials had chosen as a target was irredeemably lost. And sooner or later it would be the turn of every system, about that there was no doubt in the council of the planetary union just a few months after the war’s onset.

  Humanity was threatened with extinction, and in this desperate situation they had once again turned to the man who knew the Artificials like no other.

  To the man who had once created them.

  And this man now refused to simply give up the Sol system.

  “We will not be able to hold the Sol system, with or without your help,” the Defense Council president said, not for the first time. “Our last hope now rests upon the secret Project Phoenix.”

  “We can’t just give up Earth without resistance,” General Marty Joorthan objected, also not for the first time.

  Since he had been taken from his last virtual incarnation by order of the Council almost 100 years ago and conscripted to serve in the Space Fleet, he had climbed rank by rank, even though he had no great successes on the battlefield to show for it. No one had! But the large number of casualties alone allowed the survivors to quickly make career advancements in the space fleet.

  Even Alexya, to his surprise, had agreed to serve in the fleet. Although they had hardly spoken to each other since their argument about the upgrade for the Artificials, she had been
willing to fight at his side. Since there were hardly any volunteers left, and the breeding of clones could no longer be kept up, she had been taken as well and just as quickly climbed the military ladder. At the moment she was a colonel in the Space Force, commanding a squadron of heavy cruisers.

  “Earth is doomed,” the Defense Council returned coldly. “Just like all the other planets before it, we will not be able to hold the system. But Project Phoenix must not fail. You are one of the few who have been initiated. You even worked on the conception, as did Colonel Koppa. The war is lost, and we must prepare for the time after the war. If humanity is to have a future, it must be with Project Phoenix.”

  The Defense Council was right, of course. But Marty didn’t see how giving up the Sol system almost without a fight would help Project Phoenix succeed.

  “General Joorthan, I hereby appoint you Fleet Admiral of the Space Navy,” the Council said to Marty’s surprise. The Space Force and the Space Navy were two separate arms of the parent Terran Space Fleet. It was rare for a high-ranking officer to transfer from one branch of the armed forces to the other, and it had never happened that a transferee was granted the highest rank there. Fleet Admiral was the highest rank the Space Navy had to award.

  “Fleet Admiral Doxter was killed yesterday in the battle for Proxima Centauri,” the Council informed him. “You will take over his position to conduct the largest deception maneuver in human history. Colonel Alexya Koppa will also be promoted, but will remain with the Space Force. She will be given the rank of General and command of a squadron of heavy battleships. General Koppa will report to you. Of all the generals who will be involved in the mission under you, she is the only one fully privy to Project Phoenix.

  “You, Fleet Admiral Joorthan, will command the most extensive fleet humanity has ever assembled and fly it to the Krungthep system. We placed Project Phoenix there for a reason. The extreme thermal conditions on the planet orbiting its sun in bound rotation make it virtually impossible to locate the geothermal power plant that will keep Project Phoenix alive for many millions of years. In addition, Krungthep is certainly last in line among the most important planets on the Artificials’ annihilation campaign for logistical reasons, which gave us plenty of time to establish Project Phoenix there.