The Dead Sun(Star Force Series #9)

-9-



We released around a thousand Centaur veterans and loaded up with fresh recruits. After special mind-altering injections were administered, they were able to tolerate the confined spaces required for travel in our ships. They went through an initial adjustment period, then began to train outside our vessels in open space. I watched from the aft portals seeing the tiny blue streaks of light as they practiced burning one another with low-wattage lasers.

A shadow fell over me from behind. I turned my head a fraction catching the reflection of a figure in the frosty window I was gazing through. I recognized the tall, spare frame.

“Hello, Admiral Newcome,” I said. “How are things on the bridge?”

“The ship is in perfect operating condition,” he said, coming to stand next to me and watch the practicing Centaur troops.

As we watched, two collided in a high-speed accident. Newcome winced.

“Will that trooper survive, Colonel?”

“Maybe,” I said. “If he does, he’ll be more careful the next time.”

“Right…well…right…” Newcome said. He often said this when he wasn’t sure how to react.

“What’s on your mind, Newcome? Are you just on a stroll?”

“No sir. I’m here to report something.”

I glanced at him for the first time. He looked slightly nervous. The man was brave enough, but it didn’t come naturally to him. I guess living under Crow had been rough on these guys. The survivors were all shifty-eyed types.

“Let’s hear it,” I said.

“There’re rumors floating about the ship, sir…rumors about your robot.”

I nodded. I’d heard plenty of complaints about Marvin from the first moment he’d put himself together. I said nothing, allowing Newcome to make his case.

“They say we’re going out to the frontier in order to disturb the Macros, and that the entire scheme was cooked up by Marvin. Is there any truth to these wild tales?”

“Aren’t you curious about what’s on the other side of the last ring in the chain?”

“Not curious enough to risk my neck to explore it.”

I grunted unhappily, then pointed outside at the Centaurs.

“You see those people, Newcome?”

“People? You mean the native levies, sir?”

“Yeah. To me they’re people. Just like you and me. They’re under my protection—our protection.”

He stared at me uncomprehendingly.

“You know what they have, Admiral? They’ve got something I find many Earthers lack. I’m talking about balls, big furry ones.”

He made a disgusted face, and I grinned at him.

“What do bollocks have to do with space exploration, Colonel?”

“They have everything to do with it,” I said. “You have to take the initiative in war. You can’t sit on your butt and expect the enemy to do the same.”

“War, sir? We’re at peace at the moment.”

“Oh no,” I said, thumping him on the back. “Don’t ever let me hear you talk like that.”

He stumbled and had to throw his hands up to catch himself to keep from bumping his nose on the glass.

“Hmm,” I said, frowning. “You’ve left handprints on my observation glass.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll have it cleaned.”

There was a sarcastic edge to his words, and I could tell my thumping his back hard enough to make him stumble had pissed him off. I grinned. I liked him better when he was annoyed with me. It proved he wasn’t a wimp after all.

“See that you do,” I said. “Now, to explain further: we are at war. As long as the Macros exist, there will never be peace. They haven’t forgotten us, and we haven’t forgotten them.”

“But it’s been so long, sir. I would think they might have given up, sealed up the ring and written off this corner of the galaxy.”

“A nice thought, but unlikely. Even if it’s true, we can’t confirm it so we must proceed as if it’s not true. To do otherwise is to invite extinction.”

He nodded. “Yes, I understand your point. We must prepare as if our doom is coming at any moment—especially in the absence of hard data. You propose to get that missing information with this venture?”

I considered for a moment before finally deciding to tell him the truth. I’d planned on keeping my secret until we’d reached the Thor System, but as that was only a day or two away now, the moment seemed opportune.

“Yes,” I said. “The rumors are true. We’re going out there to investigate the Thor ring. We don’t know where it goes, but we know the Macros are on the far side of it. If they’re building a fresh armada out there, I want to know about it.

Newcome’s eyes widened. “We’re really going to fly through the ring?”

I laughed. “Is that what the rumors are saying? That the Colonel has finally lost it and plans to fly Riggs’ Pigs on one last suicide mission into the unknown? No, I’m not that crazy.”

He cleared his throat and took a breath. He seemed relieved. “Excellent, sir. I assume we’ll be conducting some kind of surveillance then. A secretive drone, perhaps?”

“A drone, but not a quiet one.”

I explained it all to him then. I told him about Marvin’s plan to build a communications unit that could connect us to the stars for a brief instant and pinpoint the location of the system on the far side of the ring, even if the Macros destroyed it almost instantly.

His worried expression returned as he contemplated the possibilities.

“But that could…the Macros will know what you’ve done. They aren’t stupid.”

“Far from it.”

“They’ll know they’ve been located. They will take action.”

“No,” I said. “We will have taken action. We will have thrown them off their timetables for once. When an enemy is tired, don’t let him sleep. When he’s hungry, don’t let him eat. And when he’s quietly building up for a big attack on your homeworld, hit him first.”

Newcome looked like he’d swallowed something large and unpleasant.

“How long do we have?” he asked.

“What? To write our wills? Plenty of time. Marvin is working on the transmitter every day, but the receiver will be far larger. We’ll begin construction near Thor as soon as we arrive.”

“Near the star itself?”

“Where else do you think we’ll get the energy we’ll need?”

He left soon afterward. I knew that he’d spread the news throughout the fleet. Let him, I thought. It was time they all knew what we were doing out here. Maybe it would quell the nervous rumors.



* * *



We flew past Welter Station, the most impressive fortress in humanity’s arsenal. That bulwark was now properly placed at the border of our five controlled star systems. Hopefully, the next time the Macros came at us we’d be able to stop them right here.

We glided through the ring into the Thor System and were now on the frontier of known space. I stood on the bridge with my top commanders when we crossed over the border and into the devastated system.

Once there’d been trillions of intelligent people here—the Crustaceans. These argumentative, arrogant aquatic beings had fought us and the Macros, but ultimately they’d been destroyed. The last few millions of their kind were now living in the oceans of Eden-6 where we’d transplanted them. They complained it was too warm for them, but since their three home planets were now brown, radioactive cesspools, I figured they’d just have to get used to the tropics. After a few generations, the hot salty water would seem natural to them.


As the images from the Thor System came up on our screens, I didn’t look at the twin stars or the planets. I focused in on the three water-moons that circled the gas giant in the habitable zone. On these three Earth-sized moons, dubbed by us Harvard, Yale and Princeton, nothing now lived.

I was glum-faced to be back here, to be faced with what had to be my single biggest defeat. I’d always regret the events that transpired here over a year ago. I was determined not to let any wholesale slaughter of innocent biotics happen again.

I glanced toward Jasmine, who was watching me. She dropped her gaze when her eyes met mine. I wondered what she was thinking. Being out here and seeing the smoldering cinders that were once rich living worlds—the sight got me to thinking.

“Maybe you were right, Jasmine,” I said aloud.

She raised her pretty face and met my gaze when I said this. Her eyebrows rose in a questioning manner.

I gestured toward the screen displaying the three lifeless moons.

“We can’t let anything like this happen to Earth. We’re living in a hard era, a time almost like a new Dark Age.”

Jasmine seemed to figure out what I was talking about. She nodded. “We can’t let decisions fall to chance.”

I had a second thought as I continued to study the screen. “But then again,” I said, “If someone else had been in command, maybe the guy would have done better. Who’s to say?”

She shrugged. “If you’ve found a worthwhile successor, abdicate. Give all authority to a younger, more skilled individual.”

I looked at her thoughtfully. She had me there, and she knew it. I didn’t have anyone else for the job. I didn’t have anyone I felt I could entrust with the keys to Star Force. At times I’d thought Crow was the man for that job—and that had turned out pretty badly.

I heaved a sigh and straightened my spine. “Helm, let’s lay in a course for the closer of the two suns. The white dwarf will do, won’t it Marvin?”

“According to my calculations, either star’s energy output is sufficient. If we choose the smaller of the two, we’ll have to build somewhat closer, however.”

I nodded. “You have the helm, Marvin. Take us to the star of your choice and park us in orbit. I want full radiation suits for the crew. Double-up on nanocloth suits and have the nanites chew up some lead before they add that second layer.”

There were a few groans at this announcement. Nanoclothing was so light and easy to wear you sort of got used to them after a while. They were a hard habit to break, like living in your pajamas all weekend long.

We planned to fly in with our most heavily protected face always aimed toward the stars like Spartans hiding behind upraised shields. I ordered the hull thickened up on the belly of the battleship as we glided closer to the blazing suns. Star Force people could take a lot of radiation, as the nanites repaired cells quickly, but our electronic subsystems were more fragile. To compensate, the ship’s systems moved constructive nanites around. They flowed in vein-like silvery relief over the hull, delivering more metal to the portions of the ship most affected.

Marvin chose the smaller star because its energy output was more stable. We reached the white dwarf two days later and established a safe orbit after fighting the gravitational forces. Then the real work began.

Marvin was given a fighter to tool around in because I’d told him he couldn’t have engines attached directly to his body. Unfortunately, his overseeing a large construction project in space pretty much required mobility.

I became angry less than a week into the project, when I realized Marvin had dismissed his fighter pilot. This meant that he was effectively zooming around independently.

“Marvin?” I shouted into a private channel. “Report immediately.”

“That’s not possible, Colonel. I’m engaged in a critical phase of the project. I’m assembling the core of a key system.”

I muted him and turned to Jasmine, who was watching the boards and knew better than I did what he was up to.

“Is he bullshitting me, Captain Sarin?”

“Yes and no. He’s not here in orbit around the white sun. He’s near Harvard, in fact, building a digester.”

Harvard was one of the three moons that sailed around a gas giant in this system’s habitable zone.

“He’s building a what?” I asked.

“He’s breaking down surface material of asteroids and smaller moons orbiting the gas giant. He’s quarried chunks of rock and is firing them toward the sun. Another system located here in orbit around the white sun catches the pieces and uses them in construction. Really, it’s quite elegant as an engineering solution.”

I frowned. It sounded big, expensive and complex.

“How big are these chunks of material?”

“They’re about two kilotons each, according to these documents.”

She displayed a mass of planning files on the command table. I’d been busy looking at reports of our military buildup back on Earth. I’d pretty much let Marvin do whatever he wanted. In retrospect, I realized that was rarely a good idea.

A blizzard of files opened with a rattling sound-effect on my side of the big screen. I tapped them closed irritably. I didn’t have time to read every blueprint and proposal.

“How is he managing to accelerate and decelerate chunks of mass that big?”

Jasmine looked at me in surprise. “Didn’t you know, sir? He’s brought along another of his prototype devices for this purpose.”

“What device?”

“A gravitational manipulator. A smaller version of the system Phobos uses for propulsion and weaponry.”

Of the tech we’d discovered and purloined, gravitational control systems were among the most amazing. The Blues were the experts at this, and they’d built a moon-sized ship that flew using a gravity-manipulating drive. We’d stolen the ship, made it our own, and called it Phobos.

I scratched my chin. “Well, it does sound like he’s got a good reason,” I had to admit. “Put him on screen.”

“He’s not in local space, Colonel.”

“I know that. But wherever he is, there’s a camera. Let’s see him.”

It took her a few minutes, but we soon had him on the big display. Marvin was zooming around in his fighter, making gut-wrenching turns and sliding stops.

“He’s buzzing around like a bee in a greenhouse,” I said, chuckling.

“He does seem to be happy, sir.”

“All right, Marvin,” I said, unmuting the blinking channel again. “You can keep your fighter and fly it yourself but no strapping any engines directly to your chassis!”

“I wouldn’t think of it, Colonel Riggs.”

Time passed. Every day I watched chunks of rock flowing into orbit near us. It was disconcerting seeing the flying stream of debris. It reminded me of being in the path of an automatic pitching machine only, in this case, the balls were the size of buildings, and they were flying at around a hundred thousand miles a minute.

Still, he managed to use gravitational systems to accelerate and decelerate each chunk. When they got to our orbital position, he began assembling them into a massive cylindrical structure.

I frowned as this monolithic thing that grew up outside my windows. With each day that passed, I couldn’t help but be awed and worried by it at the same time.

“Jasmine,” I said one fine morning as we sipped coffee and stared at the growing structure, “Tell me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t look like anything a human would build in space, does it?”


She shook her head. We both went back to staring. Marvin was creating an alien structure. A sphere of black, swirling stone mixed with metal in an almost organic pattern.

What had I set into motion? I’d expected maybe a smaller version of a ring, but this thing…? What the hell did it do?

I demanded a face to face meeting with Marvin the next day. He complained bitterly, not wanting to pause in his work. I knew he’d been working around the clock without a break, and he was totally obsessed.

When I threatened to clip his wings and take away his fighter, he finally came to heel.

“Colonel Riggs,” he said as he walked onto the bridge, “What is so critically important it can’t be done virtually?”

I gave him a quick, visual inspection. His body looked remarkably like the version I’d originally approved of and allowed out into space. But I knew better.

“Jasmine,” I said, “play the vid.”

She tapped the screen and, on the holotank, an image of Marvin flickered into being. It showed him as he had been less than an hour ago, fully decked out with ten extra cameras and two clusters of tentacles that drifted in the vacuum of space.

“Looks like a couple of sea anemones somehow attached themselves to your chassis, Marvin,” I said. “Where are those clusters of appendages? Did you leave them in the fighter?”

“Those are not technically appendages, Colonel Riggs. My primary form is exactly as you see before you, approved and certified.”

I scoffed. “Come on, Marvin, we’ve got you on video.”

“Oh,” he said, as if noticing the video for the first time. “I see clearly the source of confusion on your part. That is not my body you’re seeing. Those are tools—work clothes, if you will. Just as a human needs tools to perform construction, I designed external components I could add to my structure temporarily to enhance my performance.”

I laughed. Jasmine scowled.

“I get it,” I said. “I told you there can’t be any altering of your form. So, to circumvent that command, you built whatever you wanted as a ‘tool’ which would allow you to claim it wasn’t part of your actual body. Very clever, Marvin.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“How close are you to finishing this semi-organic-looking cylinder-thing?”

“It’s finished now.”

Jasmine and I stared at him for a second. “What?”

“The project is completed. We’re ready to proceed to the next step, but we haven’t yet accumulated sufficient mass.”

“Is that why more chunks keep coming into orbit here?”

“Precisely.”

“Why do you need so much mass?”

“How else do you propose to create compressed matter? You must have a source of uncompressed matter, then compress it. Stardust is extremely dense, collapsed material, and it requires a great deal of mass and energy to create it. I propose to perform the task artificially with gravity we’ve generated and controlled.”

Jasmine spoke up then. She had her own reasons for demanding he come to us and report in.

“Marvin,” she said, “I’ve done the calculations. All the smaller moons in the gas giant’s gravity-well do not make up enough mass to equal what you’ve already transported here into orbit. How is this possible?”

“First, let me praise your mathematical prowess, Captain Sarin. However, you are wrong in this instance.”

“What do you mean, wrong?”

“All the mass I’ve transported to orbit the white dwarf star, Loki, comes from the orbit of the gas giant.”

We both frowned at him. “But if the total mass of the asteroids is less than what you’ve sent…” I paused, and then I had a terrible thought. “Marvin, are you mining the primary moons?”

“Of course I am, Colonel Riggs. The conclusion is inescapable, isn’t it?”

“Those were habitable worlds, not just rocks in the sky!”

“The difference is negligible in this instance as they are no longer habitable worlds.”

“But Marvin,” said Jasmine in a sad, worried voice, “the Crustaceans dream of returning to their homes and rebuilding someday.”

“That is an unreasonable fantasy. Firstly, the radiation on the moons in question will not fade to a non-lethal level for thousands of years. Secondly, there will be large portions of the moons missing by that time as my project has removed them.”

We stopped asking questions then because we didn’t know quite what else to say. I considered ordering Marvin to stop chewing up the Crustacean moons, but I knew there wasn’t any other source of material we could easily access. The system didn’t have an asteroid belt, and the gas giant itself was too huge and not solid enough to mine into chunks.

I went to the big window and watched jagged lumps of matter fly by at blurring speeds. What would the Crustaceans say if they knew what we were doing out here?

I turned back to Marvin. “I want you to mine only one of the three moons. Pick the one that’s most suitable, and leave the other two alone.”

“That will delay my schedule, sir. Once the initial crust of the moon is stripped away, the magma underneath is far less suitable as it—”

“I don’t care. Do it my way or forget it.”

He craned his cameras and eyed me quietly for a time. I knew he was gauging my mood and looking for any sign of weakness.

I must have looked resolute because at last he said: “It will be done your way, Colonel Riggs.”

Then he left, and I felt more disturbed than ever by what we were doing out here.