Battle Station (3 page)

I realized I had to make something of a speech. This could not be a normal conversation. It would take an hour or more for my transmission to be sent to the Centaurs and back again. Even at the speed of light, Hel was a long way out from the inner planets.  

“Herds of Eden,” I said, “we’ve returned as we said we would. We have driven the machines from your skies. But they still walk upon your green fields. They must be destroyed on land, sea and air, as well as in space. In order to do this, we must work together. I need information on your combat readiness. Do you have landing craft that can assault the worlds below your satellites? Do you have a force of trained soldiers that can aid with that assault, or any other assets you can explain to me now, such as fighter spacecraft?”

I took a map, checked on the factory and waited calmly for a long time while the message flew out into the void and eventually returned with their response. “Our people float in steel worlds above the clouds of our real worlds. Forced into exile as part of our agreement with the machines, we walked the long walk upward, spiraling into the sky. Many fell, but the strong and honorable never took a misstep. Those that survive in the steel worlds have no path downward. We do, however, have vast herds ready to assault the machines. They have no honor, having used your herd to injure us after promising not to. Our agreements with them are at an end. If you can carry us to the surface of our worlds, we will astonish the machines with our numbers, and our ferocity! They will sing woefully, having never met a people so willing to salt the grasses with blood to regain lost lands.”

After that, the Centaurs delved more deeply into the topic of honor, the details of its loss and gain, and how the machines were bastards who had none. This went on for some time, until I was drumming my gauntleted fingers on my command chair. I stopped listening with more than half my mind, figuring I could order Marvin to replay the speech later if I felt it necessary.

Overall, things sounded worse than I’d hoped. They had no ships to return to their worlds. They’d been stuck in their satellites, due to their agreement with the Macros. It didn’t sound like they had a whole lot of weaponry, either. What they had was a large herd of willing Centaurs, anxious to die for the cause, to fight the good fight. That was pretty much it.

Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I tuned out the Centaurs entirely. They were now onto the topic of clear, empty skies. Whenever one of them began singing that song, you were in for a long serenade. They clearly missed their open skies above all else. Being a claustrophobic race, they felt closed-in even while inside satellites that were many miles across.

When the speech ended at last, I turned to Marvin. “Stop transmission,” I said, “but don’t close the channel. I want to talk to you first.”

“Done.”

“What’s this about them taking a long walk up to the satellites? Do you understand that? How could anyone
walk
to a satellite?”

“I believe they are talking about the umbilicals.”

I stared at him. “You mean those satellites are tethered to the planetary surfaces?”

“They once were, yes. The Macros severed those ties as part of their agreement.”

I nodded and leaned back in my chair. I recalled the Centaur satellites. I’d only been there for a short time, but I’d found them impressive. “A spiraling walk,” I said aloud. “As I recall, they had tubes which led to the top of their satellite. They used narrow, spiraling walkways that only a mountain goat could feel at home upon. That must be what they mean.”

I had a very strange image form in my mind then: millions of Centaurs forced to walk up an endless spiraling tube all the way into orbit. These people didn’t have spaceships, or at least, they no longer had any. They’d gotten up into their floating cities by walking there, then the Macros had cut the cord on them, sealing them in the sky forever.

“They said something about many of them falling,” I said thoughtfully. “Nasty.”

Marvin didn’t make any comments. He studied me with about five cameras. Other cameras were taking in views from the observatory, which I now noticed he’d opened at some point. Extending a tentacle like a reeled out hose, he had a cluster of cameras at the tip of it. He was busy examining the views afforded by the glass-bottomed room. I couldn’t blame him for that. The Centaurs had left my mind wandering as well.

“Open channel again,” I said.

“Done.”

“Centaurs of Eden,” I said. “We do not have enough ships to drive the Macros from your worlds. We do have enough to transport your bravest warriors down to the surface where they can run free, however. They will have to fight well, and every one of them will have to be armed with heavy laser packs. After the planets are free of the machines, we can help by transporting your population down to the surface. Does this plan suit your needs?”

Eventually, the reply came back. Before it did, I’d made myself dinner and eaten it.

“We accept your offer with equal measures of thanks and trepidation. How large are these transports? Will there be a sky to watch, during the flight? Will the walls be far enough from the herds to allow them to run at full gallop?”

I snorted. “No, I’m afraid not. There will be only enough room for your bodies to stand quietly, shoulder-to-shoulder on the way down. But think, although this time might be difficult for you, it will be very brief. No more than a few minutes of crowding before you are free again on the surface of your natural worlds. Surely, your herds have the bravery and honor to withstand five minutes of discomfort!”

The reply came back and seemed injured in tone. “It is not a matter of honor. It is not a matter of bravery, or discomfort. It is a matter of the mind. We cannot withstand long periods enclosed. We will lose our wits. We must be able to see the sky.”

When I heard that, I took off my gauntlets and gave my head a good scratching. I could just see it, transporting down a wild mass of crazed mountain goats to a planetary surface. What would they do? Kick and gore one another to death? Chew off their own tongues in a bloody froth while bleating and rolling their eyes in temporary insanity? I supposed I didn’t want to know. After a while, however, I came up with a plan. I could test it, and if it worked, I would employ it with their thousands and transport a vast army.

“All right,” I said at last. “I’ll take care of your concerns. Is there anything else you need before I prepare to invade Eden-11?”

When the answer finally came, I had dozed off. It seemed as if this reply had taken longer than usual to come in. Perhaps it had. Often, when asked a complex question, the Centaurs discussed it among themselves at length before answering.

“We have only a single, overriding need. You must maintain the honor you have gained. Keep the sweet winds in your fur. Return us to our worlds, and help us regain all was taken from us. Never allow the reflection of the sky to leave our eyes. In return, our millions will march with you to our sacred deaths.”

“I promise,” I said. And meant it.

We broke the connection then, and I fell asleep in my command chair.

-3-

I had a few days before we would be ready to fly to the Centaur satellites and begin our trial runs. During this time, I used all the destroyers to gather raw materials from the battlefield. We’d need more than factories to build the things I needed. We’d need raw materials, too.

During this time I became curious about what was going on beyond the ring we guarded. Was a task force of Macros massing out there, getting ready to invade the Eden system and destroy all our plans? What kind of a system was on the far side, anyway?

I laid mines in front of the ring while I thought about it. That’s what I set the single factory I had to producing: thousands upon thousands of mines. I could have sent a ship nosing through the ring to have a look around at any time during this operation, but I didn’t dare. At their core, the Macros were computers. If you’ve ever dealt with an artificial intelligence, you know how such minds tend to behave. They might stand quietly, motionless and seemingly asleep for a long time. But eventually, some kind of trigger is met, and at that point they spring into action. Getting too near one of these things altered its behavior. If they were gathering on the far side, they might well do so for months, waiting until they reached a preset count of ships. Only then would they move. But if I dared to change the game, they would change their plans and respond to the stimulus. Generally, with the Macros, I’d found stimulating them too much was bad for your health.

Still, despite knowing the risks, I couldn’t help wondering if I could get away with taking a peek on the other side. Perhaps not a ship—that would be too much. But what about a single man in a suit? A cold, emission-free, stealth-suit. If such a hypothetical man had a camera say, and other passive sensory equipment, he would probably escape notice entirely. The idea tempted me more as every hour passed.

The logical thing to do would be to send Marvin or Kwon or someone less valuable. But I wanted to see the new system myself. Call me crazy, but until you’ve explored star systems personally, you can’t understand the allure.

I kept thinking about taking a little walk outside, maybe a jaunt around the circumference of my ship. The idea worked on my mind like a siren’s call. If Sandra or Crow had been around to talk me out of it, maybe I never would have gone.

But they weren’t.

“Colonel Riggs?” Marvin asked the day I was finally geared up and ready to go.

“What?”

“Take me with you.”

I chuckled. “This isn’t anything important, Marvin,” I said. “I just want to suit-up and examine the ring visually. Cameras can only tell you so much. I’m sure you understand.”

Marvin looked me up and down with his numerous camera eyes. “Your optical organs are superior to cameras?”

“Yes,” I said. “They probably are. Analog input is generally inferior, but in this case I’d take it over digital any day.”

“Interesting,” Marvin said.

Several of his cameras investigated my suit. It was my normal battle suit, but it had been carefully altered. Instead of the blue glowing LEDs covering it like a Christmas tree, it was jet black. It was as dark as space itself. I’d also taken pains to disconnect the heat sinks and all automatic radio transponders. Unless I keyed open a microphone, it wouldn’t generate any form of emissions.

“You’ve made a number of preparations for this—spacewalk.”

“Yes Marvin, and I thank you for your help in that regard.”

Marvin watched me closely as I stepped to the airlock and the nanite bubble covering the entrance dissolved away, and I stepped inside. It would be a relief to escape Marvin’s probing. He obviously knew something was up.

“Colonel Riggs?”

“What is it now?”

“I still want to go with you. If I promise not to transmit anything, can I go?”

“Go where? Outside the ship? You do that all the time.”

“No—I want to go through the ring, with you.”

I heaved a sigh. How should I handle this one? Evasion wasn’t working out for me this time. Worse, if Marvin had figured it out, others might do the same.

“I can’t take you with me,” I said. “It’s too dangerous. You’ll emit a radio squawk or something and give us away. Even a small amount of propulsion might be noticed. You have heat sinks and your repellers give off a distinct signature.”

“I’ve been working on that.”

I frowned. “You have?”

“Yes, I’ve been watching your preparations, and I understand them. I might even know more about this than you do, Colonel. Recall that I once spent days in a Macro-owned system while they hunted me unsuccessfully.”

“Yeah, and you made a deal with them to sell us out for the privilege of snooping around.”

“That was an error. It will not happen again.”

“Only because the Macros are on to you, and have you marked down in some database as kill-on-sight.”

Marvin’s cameras reshuffled themselves. “Do you want to see my preparations?”

“All right,” I said, becoming curious. “What have you got?”

He scooted into the airlock with me and waited expectantly. His cameras flicked from my face to my hands and back to the wall. Touching the appropriate area would bring up a touch-sensitive radial menu in metallic relief.

“I take it you want to go outside?”

“My auxiliary systems would not fit in the ship.”

I laughed. He had me now, and we both knew it. I wanted to see what he had built for himself. I wondered if he had banked on my curiosity, and if that was part of his scheme. Marvin was always scheming.

I gave up and reached out to touch the outer wall. The wall vanished, and we floated out into space with the escaping gasses. I let it happen, leaving my magnetics off. I had a number of low emission methods to maneuver myself as needed. Behind me, I dragged a garbage-can-sized sensor box, which I’d set to strictly passive mode. I was sure it wasn’t going to send out any pings and give us away. It would only record everything around us.

A more analytical soul might have pointed out that sending a man on this mission—namely me—was not strictly necessary. All I had to do was send a sensor unit with Marvin or even by itself. When it got whatever input it could, it could be programmed to return and allow me to examine the data in relative safety.

But that just wasn’t good enough for me. I felt a place hadn’t truly been explored until a human eye had examined it in person. I’d always been bored by the endless army of roving little robots NASA sent out to roam over Mars or swing around between Jupiter’s moons. The human experience could not be discounted. Moreover, this ring was only a mile or two from my ship. It seemed like a crime to ignore it, to pass up the thrill of that first investigation.

Once I was outside the ship, I didn’t see much other than
Socorro’s
smoothly curved hull. The yellow sun glared from the surface, blinding me if I looked in that direction. Stretched below was the dark, icy hulk of Hel. It gleamed brightly with reflected frost on the sunward side, while the other half was encased in clinging shadows.