Nemesis (24 page)

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Authors: Alex Lamb

BOOK: Nemesis
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‘She wouldn’t have had much patience for this lot,’ said Venetia, her eyes sliding to the top of the ladder. Then she fixed him with a hard look, her smile dropping away. ‘Listen, Mark, I’m as surprised as you are that we’re on this ship together. I had no idea until I showed up for the shuttle briefing. So don’t get me wrong, I didn’t do this out of some sense of allegiance. I did it because I thought you deserved better. But you need to up your game. People like Sam and Yunus thrive on attention. Give them as much as you can. Kowtow. Laugh at their jokes. And don’t take a single thing they have to say seriously. Stick to that formula and I’ll make sure you come out of this trip in one piece. Got it?’

Mark nodded mutely.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Nice job with the science research, by the way. That paper of Yunus’s was a stinker. You were very diplomatic.’

She winked at him as she headed out. Mark just stared. He actually had an ally. Who’d have guessed?

6:
APPROACH

6.1: ANN

When the
Gulliver
and
Ariel Two
warped in to meet with the observation ship outside the Tiwanaku System, the
Chiyome
flew alongside, silent and attentive.

It had been a tense, dull flight. Sam’s hand-picked crew were polite, professional company. Ann had tried to build a bond with them, but as the days creaked into weeks, the sense of distance between her and most of the others had deepened.

The only bright spot in the trip had been the occasional opportunities to work with Kuril. The rest of the crew watched their unexpected friendship develop without comment. Now, at least, they’d all have something to do instead of stewing and feeling out each other’s loyalties. This close to Tiwanaku, the
Ariel Two
needed to be monitored constantly. Ann felt glad of the change, even through her fear.

The observation ship sent from New Panama, the IPS
Samyaza
, had chosen a spot just beyond the heliopause, far enough out to make detection by the Nems statistically impossible but still close enough for surveillance. Ann tuned in when the comms channel from the
Gulliver
opened.

‘Good morning,
Samyaza
,’ said Yunus Chesterford. Ann could see the diplomatic team clustered in the
Gulliver
’s faux-opulent lounge and immediately felt jealous of their space.

‘We’re ready for insertion,’ said Yunus. ‘Do you have anything for us?’

The feed from the
Samyaza
showed the round, earnest face of the chief observer, Meleta Keth, with beige crash-padding behind.

‘Plenty,’ said Meleta. ‘First, and most significantly, we’ve witnessed two exit events on the same bearing.’

‘Fascinating!’ said Yunus. ‘Information about the origin of our visitors, perhaps?’

Of course, Meleta had seen no such thing. And even if there had been an exit, Meleta’s team wouldn’t have been able to trace it. The Nems’ warp system made that almost impossible.

Meleta sent across the coordinates. Ann immediately recognised the local vector for Snakepit. No change to Phase Two, then – something else to be thankful for. She watched Yunus’s eyes light up.

‘That’s outside IPSO space!’ he said.

‘Indeed it is,’ said Meleta. ‘Which surprised us, I can tell you. It’s highly suggestive. There’s a star on that bearing on the local shell, too. G-type.’

‘This is momentous!’ said Yunus. ‘That could be their homeworld.’

‘We’re trying not to assume too much,’ said Meleta, ‘but I grant you it’s exciting. Secondly, though, you should know that there’s been a change in the aliens’ activity.’ She passed across a video feed, then added, ‘The system now contains more than four million drones and a low-density cloud of quasi-industrial by-products about six light-minutes wide. Orbital factories have been churning stuff out at a crazy rate.’

The image showed a dense belt of material around Tiwanaku Four, far too heterogeneous to analyse at that distance. Still, it gave Ann pause. They were looking at a
very
active reflection phase. That particular Nem behaviour clearly hadn’t scaled linearly with target size. She’d have to keep a close eye on it during the hours that followed.

‘There’s also activity down on the planet’s surface,’ said Meleta, ‘but it’s hard to classify. We’re not close enough for a proper look.’

‘This is all interesting stuff,’ said Sam, ‘but we have to remember that it could just be a smokescreen. Nothing in this data so far rules that out.’

He was, Ann thought, a gifted actor. Had she not known, she’d have assumed Sam was completely on the level.

‘And lastly and most weirdly,’ said Meleta, ‘there’s some sporadic weapons fire in-system. We’re not seeing a pattern to it, mind you. It looks random.’

‘Some kind of interior conflict, perhaps,’ said Yunus. ‘Maybe our friends have factions, or are part of a militaristic society.’

‘Or it’s weapons testing,’ said Sam. ‘In any case, if people are shooting, that’s an extra reason for us to stay on our guard.’

‘Agreed,’ said Yunus.

‘I’m sending you the full observation package,’ said Meleta, ‘and forwarding a copy to the
Ariel Two
. Good luck in there.’

‘Thank you,
Samyaza
,’ said Yunus. ‘Keep an eye on us. We’re going to make history.’ He was grinning as he flicked off the comm.

The
Gulliver
adjusted course and headed cautiously in-system. The
Ariel Two
prowled along behind, as subtle as a tyrannosaur.

Now they had to wait. The
Samyaza
had better sensors than the
Chiyome
and would release a coded ping on a League band when they were confident it was safe.

‘Looks like Chesterford’s thoroughly taken the bait,’ said Jaco as they lurked there. ‘It’s hard not to enjoy that. He imagines he’s going to win a trading pact for Earth or something.’ He chuckled. ‘Yet more money for the grasping thieves he represents. It doesn’t even occur to him that he’s ushering in the end of his own vile kleptocracy. That’s fitting, somehow, don’t you think? It’s times like this when the significance of what we’re doing really hits home. It’s the other shoe finally dropping for those bastards at long last.’

Nothing underlined Ann’s discomfort more than this – her relationship with Jaco Brinsen. Ann steered clear of political discussions, while Jaco courted them. For the entire flight, he’d claimed whatever soapbox shipboard conversation supplied and used it to orate about the righteousness of their work. It appeared to be his way of rationalising the dark deeds ahead.

Ann didn’t want moral reassurance. Their job made her sick. Their choices might be driven by unavoidable mathematical facts, but that didn’t make what they had to do any more laudable.

‘That’s enough, Mr Brinsen,’ she said. ‘Let’s not get too proud of ourselves. Nobody planning to kill millions should be too smug. It’s unseemly, wouldn’t you agree?’

Jaco fell quiet for a minute before replying. ‘You’re right, obviously, Captain. We should avoid unseemly behaviour at all costs and stick to the mission plan, right? Just do our jobs and try not to let it affect us too much.’

This was a veiled criticism. Of the crew, only Jaco knew she’d been checking in with Will Monet at their fuelling stars, in contravention of both their Fleet orders and the League plan. As her first officer, he had access to all the same comms records that she did.

Ann let it slide. ‘Exactly, Mr Brinsen. Adherence to the commander’s intent, to the best of our abilities.’

‘Ma’am,’ said Zoti, her sensor-jockey, ‘I’m reading an encrypted local ping from the
Samyaza
.’

‘Good,’ said Ann. ‘Open a channel on tight-beam, please.’

‘Already on it, ma’am.’

Meleta’s face reappeared in a new window in her display.


Chiyome
here,’ said Ann. ‘I don’t like the look of that reflection activity. Anything else we need to be watching for?’

‘No, ma’am,’ said Meleta. ‘I don’t believe so. The machines are behaving normally but at the high end of the envelope. We’ve run a few extra scenarios to be sure – I’m sending you the results now. What we’re seeing here is still very similar to what happened after the operation at Nazca. It’s scary to look at, but it’s within anticipated parameters. It does mean we need to keep our eye on the final ingested target size, of course,’ Meleta added. ‘Every extra human sample they get hold of takes us closer to the edge of that envelope. Human costs should be kept to an absolute minimum.’

In other words, try not to get people killed. That would be tricky, of course. The whole point of bringing Will here was to solicit a violent response from him. In the seconds and minutes that followed, some very swift action would be required to make sure that situation didn’t spiral out of control.

‘My goal in any case,’ said Ann. ‘Do you have the package?’

‘Sending it now,’ said Meleta. ‘Drone should be with you in five.’

Ann watched as the tiny stealth-drone containing the all-important biomaterial made its way between the ships. When it finally came to enforcing Will Monet’s compliance, this little package would do more than an entire fleet of starships. She feared the stuff and wished she didn’t have to carry it on her ship.

‘Zoti, a reading on the package, please, as soon as you’re able.’

‘I have it, ma’am. The material has about six days of stability left, which should be enough.’

‘A word from Snakepit on that,’ said Meleta. ‘The bioscience team wanted to stress the need for extreme caution. So far as they know, that stuff won’t interact with ordinary human tissue, but they can’t make any promises. The denaturing process is still in the experimental stage. They say that the genetic code in those cells is so dense there may be petabytes hiding in there that they haven’t noticed yet.’

‘In that case we’ll only use it if we have to,’ said Ann. ‘And on that note, I should be off before my charges get themselves in trouble. If this place is anything like Nazca, that won’t take very long.’

Meleta managed an awkward smile. ‘Rather you than me,’ she said. ‘We’ll be thinking of you. Please be careful.’

‘Thank you, Meleta,’ said Ann. ‘See you at the Pit in a few days, I hope.’

Ann charged her engines and hurried off after the other ships. She couldn’t afford to fall too far behind. The Nems might kick off a defensive surge from the moment they saw company. From this point onwards, every second counted.

6.2: MARK

As Mark headed into the Tiwanaku System, Ash came onto the bridge and took up his position. The mission plan required that they have the subcaptain on standby, which made perfect sense to Mark. Whether headed towards first contact or into the jaws of a sect trap, a second pair of eyes was likely to help.

Ash’s avatar appeared in the helm-arena. Mark had swapped out the Zen garden for a direct view of the system ahead, overlaid with colour-coded threat data from Sam’s tactical SAPs. Ash’s avatar stood at the centre of that mess of ruddy icons and looked grim.

Mark turned away from his scans to face his ex-friend. ‘You okay?’

‘Fine,’ said Ash. ‘Just a little apprehensive, that’s all.’

‘Understandable. Want to take over the long-range-threat scanning?’

Ash cracked a smile. ‘You bet.’

‘Between you and me,’ said Mark, ‘all the weird shit the observers reported sounds like a smokescreen. This still feels like a set-up. I’m just waiting for the shooting to start.’

‘Sounds reasonable,’ said Ash, turning to face his displays. ‘I’m not looking forward to this regardless.’ He said nothing for a few seconds, then added, ‘I heard about what happened with the others, by the way. Sorry about that.’

‘Not a problem,’ said Mark. ‘I’m not blaming you. Like you said before, we’re all professionals here.’

‘Yes,’ said Ash quietly. ‘I guess we are.’

Mark opened the gated link to the lounge, pulling up a video window.

‘Checking diplomacy team feed,’ he said. The data connection to the lounge had to be routed through the many layers of the Vartian Institute’s secure cut-out bus. It took a surprising amount of work. ‘Do you have my view on the bubble? You should see the helm-arena on screen one and an in-system schematic on two.’

The lounge displays had been set up to provide a window onto the
Gulliver
’s virtual space along with whatever data the team called for. Mark disliked giving them eyes into his world, but at least this set-up gave him eyes into theirs.

‘We do,’ said Sam. ‘We’re good to go.’

Mark might have been imagining it, but he thought he heard a kind of clipped frustration in Sam’s tone. Yesterday’s tension hadn’t resolved. Still, this was the moment they’d all been waiting for and Mark intended to ace it.

‘Great,’ he said. ‘Fine sensors going live in five.’

Almost as soon as Mark activated the fine-sensor mesh, he discovered the broadcasts. Signal-dense low-power transmissions saturated the entire in-system region. They were all the same, and they all sounded like garbage.

Mark forwarded an audio stream to the lounge. A scrambled mess of music, static, data and garbled voices filled the air. Yunus looked delighted, Zoe appalled.

‘What the hell is that?’ she said, holding her hands over her ears. ‘How many channels are you playing at once?’

‘Just the one. But they’re all like that. As far as my subminds can tell, it’s a mix of DNA sequences, pop songs, machine code, Bible readings, enzyme pathways and all kinds of other crap.’

‘But why?’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘What’s it for?’

‘Is there anything recognisably alien in there?’ said Venetia. ‘All I’m hearing so far is mashed human content.’

‘Not unless you count the mashing algorithm,’ said Mark.

‘Could this be an attempt to communicate with us already?’ said Yunus.

‘Unlikely,’ said Mark. ‘There’s no evidence we’ve been spotted. We’re still too far away – light-lag alone pretty much rules out dialogue.’

‘So this is internal traffic,’ said Citra. ‘But why would they be sending each other DNA snippets?’ She started working feverishly at her touchboard, picking the message apart.

‘As yet unclear,’ said Mark. ‘I’m tracking a few outlier objects from the swarm that are close enough for us to look at. They appear to be artificial. Zooming in on one now.’

Mark maxed out the
Gulliver
’s telescope resolution and took his first look at one of the alien artefacts. The scowling face of the Prophet Sanchez filled the screen.

‘Jesus!’ said Ash. His avatar jumped about three metres across the virtual bridge. ‘I didn’t see
that
coming.’

Of all the things Mark had imagined they might find, the sour countenance of the man who had kicked off humanity’s first interstellar war was not one of them. The head appeared to be sculpted out of dirty ice and was approximately half a kilometre on each side. It tumbled in the lonely darkness, snarling at the stars.

‘What should we make of this?’ he asked the science team. ‘Are the aliens Truists?’

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