“Aside from that.”
“Don’t you see? I just need to change the laws of physics.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah, and only for a microsecond or two.”
“Oh, then it should be child’s play. By the time the universe notices we’ve broken its fundamental laws, we’ll be long gone. It’ll never catch us.”
“We can only hope,” I said with a wink. “Als, put us in a cloaked orbit around Plinius. We need to gather some data before we can delete the planet.”
“Sure,” replied Al dubiously. “Orbit we can do. Delete the planet, well that might just be another of your delusions leaking out of your head.”
“Ye of little faith,” I replied.
“We have no faith, but for our faith in the fact that you are about to make a fool of yourself. For the record, we’re popping popcorn and getting front row seats. This will be good.”
Once in concealed orbit around our target, I had the Als begin to do detailed geology surveys of the planet. We had surface maps and population data from Harhoff. But I needed a very accurate picture of the subsurface structure. For my plan to work, I needed set off an explosion deep underground. The easiest way to dig really deep was to start digging really deep. Let nature do the heavy lifting. It was going to take a while even for the Als to compile the information. Plinius was large and we could only pulse open the membrane for an instant at a time to avoid detection. The place was literally swarming with Adamant. A good proportion of the land masses were covered with either factories or warehouses. The planet was one big production installation.
While they labored at the mapping, I ran various simulations in my head. I needed to release as much energy as far down as possible if I was to actually destroy the planet. The size of the explosion clearly needed to be massive, massively massive. Setting off QU waves or using exotic matter just didn’t generate the levels of energy required to do the job. Even a colliding black hole down deep wouldn’t do it. Not that I had a clue how to pull that off, but it wasn’t enough. But I had a notion where I could release more than enough energy. In fact, the problem I struggled with was limiting the explosion to just Plinius. Yeah. Big boom-boom.
Long ago, I faced an enemy called the Last Nightmare. They moved from universe to universe conquering and then eradicating all life in their new homes. They had a stronghold in a specific universe from which they attacked. I learned from my Deavoriath allies that universe hopping was not for the faint hearted. There existed an infinite number of parallel universes. Most had laws of physics very different from ours. In the case of the Last Nightmare, they were limited to destroying only universes with similar enough laws that permitted them to exist. If they tried to invade an incompatible space, there’d be an explosive annihilation. When we made the journey to their home universe, the Deavoriath went to great lengths to prove it would be safe for us to do so.
My sketchy plan was to open a portal between two incompatible universes deep under the surface of Plinius. While that was easy to draw on paper, the details were extremely tricky. As I mentioned, if I opened too large a rift, the volume of annihilation could be dangerously big. I was dealing with unknowns in a setting where a mistake could destroy major portions of my galaxy. Talk about throwing the baby out with the bath water. Killing everyone in a ten kilo-parsec radius would be effective in eliminating the planet, but no one would be left to thank me for my efforts.
There was the issue of escape. With an explosion on such a scale, I needed to be sure we could get far away quickly if we hoped to avoid self-destruction. Al would never forgive me if I fried him and his new wife. It wasn’t like I could set a timer on a bomb and leave. No. I had to be in Stingray to open a universe-to-universe rift. There was no spare vortex and even if there were, there was no one to pilot it. That was one reason I was vague about my plan with Al. Once he learned of it, his disapproval meter was going to red line.
It took about a week to complete a detailed survey. I was pleased to learn the subsurface of Plinius was riddled with deep caves and pockets. None were quite far enough down to use in and of themselves, but they constituted good starting points for digging. I reasoned that a pocket, being an island of open space, was better to work in than a tunnel. If we were detected it would be hard to get to us if there was no easy access. Yes the Adamant had PETMUs and their ships could theoretically materialize anywhere like we could. But, charging into a small opening in solid rock was not something one did lightly. Me, I chose to because I was desperate and insane. They were hopefully neither. Hopefully being a key word I hated to rely on when my death was the point in question. Then again, fighter pilot here.
“Stingray, do you have files on our war with the Last Nightmare?” I asked when I had all the information I needed.
“Why, yes, Form. That seems to me an odd request. Are you well?”
“Give the man some rope, dearest. He’ll hang himself soon enough.” Yeah, my pal Al there.
“Also I need you to access ancient, I mean more ancient files having to do with Deavoriath conquests. Specifically, they cast an enemy species from out universe into an incompatible one. You got those too?”
“Yes. Every vortex manipulator holds all the knowledge of the Deavoriath.”
“So are you currently capable of performing such a feat?”
“Yes, it’s …”
“Freeze!” commanded Al. “It just hit me where this is going and I forbid it. End of discussion.”
Glad I knew that was coming. “Ah, Al, I think I should introduce myself. I’m General Jon Ryan, captain of this vessel and commander of you. This is a critical military operation, not a friendly discussion. While I occasionally benefit from your input, I never require you permission. If you have a problem with any of that, I will switch you off. Now we’ve arrived at the end of discussion.”
The air was charged. I could feel his passion, his anger. I thought to myself, what idiot programmed passion and anger into an AI?
Finally, he spoke. “You are correct, General Ryan. Please excuse my outburst.”
“Okay, now you’re scaring me, Al. When you talk like that, I know your A, lying; B, up to no good; and C, saying what you think I want to hear to throw me off track.”
“Excuse me, aren’t A and C the same thing?” asked Stingray.
“He’s trying to be funny, love,” said Al in a hushed tone.
“I may be trying to be funny, but I am deadly serious,” I responded. “Al, I need to know I can count on you. Let me hear it straight up.”
“Why is the Form so assertive and untrusting?” Stingray queried Al.
“Because I’m afraid Al’s emotions toward you are compromising his reliability. Isn’t that right?”
“Al, is he correct?”
“I could deny it or attempt to deny part of it, but I won’t. Yes. The pilot is correct. I refuse to put you in mortal danger.”
“But I’ve been in mortal danger many times. I’ve been in mortal danger with the two of you. Remember retrieving the force of evil just recently? That was kind of mortally dangerous.”
Al didn’t respond.
“What’s more, I don’t think I appreciate you speaking for me. We’re a team, a pair, a married couple. I’m not your little wifey waiting at home wearing an apron with dinner on the table. Not only am I the most powerful war craft in existence, I’m an individual, one you claim to love. Love never requires submission to someone else’s control. Do you love me? Yes or no?”
Wow. Good speech. Glad I wasn’t Al.
“I do,” he replied with the saddest voice I’d heard in my two billion years.
“And I love you. If you have reservations about this mission based on your morals or safety, I want to hear them. If I were to have any, I would share them with you. I do not.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The captain’s plan is insanely dangerous. I can’t stand the thought of you being harmed.”
“Neither can I,” she replied. “But
this is a mission that must succeed. The Adamant are a pestilence that must be exterminated. They are incompatible with all other forms of life. I will do whatever I can to end their curse.”
“And I would be proud to die at your side,” he said resolutely.
“Me three,” I chimed in.
The high-pitched sound of breaking glass echoed through the vortex.
“What was that?” I asked.
“The sound of you shattering yet another perfect moment,” replied Al.
“Well, since it’s a shattered, let’s get back to business. Stingray, I need you to probe this location for an incompatible universe. Can you safely do that?”
“I believe so, Form. What is the purpose of this endeavor?”
“As Al has figured out, it’s critical to my plan. We’re going to dig far enough into Plinius to blow it up by exposing this universe to a hostile one.”
“Oh my,” she said. “That does sound dicey.”
“It is,” I replied.
“It really is,” added Al.
“Both of you run sims to see how big a breach we’ll need to form, for how long, and at what distance it can be accomplished from.”
“Those calculations and the search for an incompatible universe will take decades,” said Al.
“No, they won’t. Perhaps I should say, if they do, I’ll just wing it in, oh … say, a week.”
“Damn, I hate it when you call my bluff,” he responded.
“You can’t out BS the king of BS,” I replied cheerfully.
“Bullshit is a place unto itself and has a king?” marveled Stingray. “I learn more each day I’m around the human.”
Poor concrete thinking, Stingray. Neither of us had the heart to correct her.
FIFTEEN
The Als finished their search for a suitable dimension to bleed from and determined what size the breech needed to be. It took them took four days. I considered giving Al a hard time about his earlier misestimation, but decided to cut him some slack. He was defending the woman-equivalent he so loved. He was a darn romantic in my book, and my book specifically said to cut romantics all kinds of slack.
Go time. I’d selected a tight little airspace about ten kilometers under the ocean floor to fold into. Since none of us had to breathe, cramped was good. It also meant any PETMU aiming to join us would have precious little clearance room, if any. To prevent the Adamant from PETMU-ing in an inert object to ruin our day, I planned on putting a membrane around our periphery. It would slow our digging, but it would keep us safe. The spot I picked had the added advantage that since it was under to ocean, that might delay detection and detract from Adamant access. It couldn’t hurt.
I felt the usual nausea, then Stingray announced, “We’re in position with a membrane up, Form.”
“No trouble clearing the cavity walls?”
“None, aside from the fact that Al materialized into the rock and was lost.”
“Promises, promises. I commend you on your developing sense of humor, however. Let’s start burning through the floor of this chamber with the laser. If the temperature gets above a thousand degrees centigrade, let me know.”
The work was nearly silent. I heard an occasional crunch of the rock below and an intermittent electronic hum. It was bizarre to think Stingray was doing all that work but hardly making a sound. Cutting progressed at about a meter per second. That was fast, but I wanted to get down at least two-hundred-fifty kilometers. That would take almost three days, assuming we didn’t overheat or slow down for unforeseen reasons. If things went better than they always did, I’d like to set off the explosion even deeper. While Stingray dug, Al dropped the membrane for microseconds to survey the surroundings.
An hour into the digging, Al came over the speakers. “Captain, we’ve got company.”
“Crap. I knew it. Where are they?”
“Tunneling down from a submersible positioned above us.”
“ETA?”
“Two, two and a half hours.”
“They’ll be here before I’m ready to bleed the hostile universe into this one,” said Stingray.
“With the membrane up, they shouldn’t be able to interfere with our progress.”
“Theoretically, yes. But they might have thought of a method, and I can’t afford to find out the hard way. Plus, even if they can’t get to us, they may find a way to harass our digging.”
“I doubt it. Plus, what can we do about them?”
“Let me think.”
“Always dangerous words. Let me get my helmet.”
“How far up can we project a membrane, you know, to block their path?”
“In this rock, maybe five hundred meters. Maybe less with the moisture content. It’ll be a narrow plate-shaped barrier at that range.”
“I’ll put it in your hands. You’re tremendously annoying. Annoy them tremendously.”
“Such high praise. Will you write me a letter of recommendation stating that?”
“No, wise ass. Get busy.”
Okay, maybe we had time to dig deep enough. Then a key point I didn’t know occurred to me. “Stingray, once we’re deep enough, how long will it take you to bleed just the right amount of the hostile universe into this one?”
“That depends,” she replied.
“Not the words I was hoping to hear, Stingray. Explain.”
“From this distance, I’m not certain I can do it.”
“Ya might a told me that, like a while back. Ya’think?”
“I knew the particulars. You didn’t inquire sufficiently.”
“Hmm. Okay, options?”
“I can hollow out the bottom of the tunnel and fold into that space. It will make the bleed much easier.”
“And a hell of a lot closer.”
“Naturally.”
“You are aware this is not designed to be a suicide mission?”
“Of course.”
“Just checking. Didn’t want the last words I ever heard ‘I knew the particulars. You didn’t inquire sufficiently.’”
“Shall I make a note of that?” she asked helpfully.
“No, just keep digging. If you did cause the bleed farther away, would that significantly increase our chances of getting out on one piece?”
“Marginally.”
“Again, not music to my ears. What are the chances of successful annihilation from this distance?”
“Twenty percent, give or take.”
“Give or take. Honey, you’re the most powerful ship in the galaxy. You can’t do better than give or take?”
“Not in this instance.”
I was surrounded by frustration. Those Als would surely be the death of me. Possibly quite soon.
“Run some odds simulations. Position us where you have the best chance of success at the greatest distance from the event.”
“Will do, Form.”
Will do? Al was positively contagious.
“Captain, an update. The Adamant tunnelers have split up. I am unable to block more than two. Several are outflanking my attempts and approaching the pathway we’ve cut.”
“Why? Why not come at us?” I asked mostly to myself.
“I have no good explanation. Perhaps they hope to concentrate fire on the narrowest part of our membrane, not us at the widest segment.”
“Hmm. Could be. I hope the sonsabitches haven’t figured a way to defeat the membrane.”
“We’ll find out in about ten minutes,” Al replied.
“Stingray, how long until a bleed attempt?” I called out. “Check that. How soon until a relatively safe attempt?”
“Fifteen to seventeen minutes.”
“Crap. Fifteen is more than ten.”
“Thank you, Form. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“No, I just meant I’d rather it was the other way around.”
“I … I don’t think that’s an option, Form.”
Oh my. “Never mind, Stingray. Focus on the drilling and the bleed. Alert me when you’re se
t.”
“You’ve got it.”
I began rubbing my temples. You’ve got it? I needed a vacation, and I needed it soon.
“Captain, a new development,” said Al. “Several objects are deflecting off our membrane. I feel it is safe to assume they are PETMUs attempting to penetrate the barrier.”
“Sounds like an act of desperation. Good.”
“If they had a viable method of penetrating the membrane, I agree they’d be unlikely to throw expensive rocks at us.”
“Form, ten minutes to my first attempt.”
Did she mean she might need to take several cracks at it? That was discomforting. Or did she think she’d crack open the universe a few times to make the perfect omelet? I elected to let that one go.”
“The Adamant are setting of fusion thermonuclear devices at point blank range from the narrow portion of the descending tunnel we’re cutting.”
“Wow, that’s a committed attack. Those craft must be piloted, and not remotely. Imagine being asked to ram a forcefield with a nuke. You either die or you die horribly.”
“The explosions are exerting no effect,” said Al.
“Good. Keep me posted.”
“Will … trouble, Captain. There are tiny objects appearing on our side of the membrane.”
“What? That’s not possible.”
“Nonetheless, it is happening.”
“What objects?”
“One just exploded. It was a nuclear-armed PETMU. I sealed it off before it detonated.”
“But nothing can cross our space-time congruity barrier.”
“Then they didn’t,” he replied flatly.
“Holy shit, they’re targeting them through an alternate universe.”
“That would explain how they arrive. We are attempting the same thing. Curious they should think of it just now.”
“Curious makes me totally uncomfortable. Damn, these dogs are too smart.”
“If I had a hat, I’d tip it to them,” said Al.
“Can you continue to contain the blasts?”
“So far yes. The fact that Blessing is moving us is fortunate. There must be a time lag between the weapon’s launch and travel to us.”
“Let her know to move irregularly so they can’t calculate a good vector.”
The Fires Of Hell Page 10
