Annihilation (Star Force Series) (9 page)

 Professor Hoon wasn’t done yet: “Another significant failure in your response is represented by the nature of your fleet: it is essentially made up of warships. These are not the best vehicles to render the aid we require.”

“That’s because you didn’t tell us what kind of help you needed. We assumed you were under some kind of attack.”

“We are, but we still feel the nature of the attack is, and always was, self-evident. Before you even launched your fleet, many on the committee had lowered your percentile chance of rendering significant aid to the single digits. I would point out that I did not go with the prevailing trend of my colleagues on this matter. I estimated, and still do, a fourteen percent chance you will manage to provide us some type of meaningful assistance.”

“Well,” I said, “at least I’ve got that going for me.”

“I request that you do not embarrass me by failing too grossly at the task.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we? By the way, where are you located personally? I mean, are you on Yale, or one of the other moons?”

“What is the significance of using the term ‘Yale’ to describe our stricken world?”

“It’s a famous university back home, on our homeworld.”

“Indeed? Then it is a complimentary term, and I will adopt its use during our discussions. In response to your original query, yes, I’m on Yale.”

I smiled slightly. We’d named their worlds after famous colleges back home precisely because the Crustaceans reminded me of snooty academics. I decided not to enlighten Hoon, as I doubted he would get the joke. If he thought it was a compliment, maybe that would help us all get along.

As a secondary thought, I was impressed that this Lobster had the gonads to still be sitting on Yale. He’d pretty much ordered his own death by firing on us. That took a serious belief in oneself, not to mention a willingness to self-sacrifice, which was rare in my experience. Perhaps for the Crustaceans self-sacrifice wasn’t an unusual trait. I reminded myself that the “ambassador” that had flown out to my battle station months earlier had done so knowing she was going to die. She’d killed herself and my electronics in an EMP blast, arrogantly insulting me with her last breath.

“Have you tried plugging the hole?” I asked.

“Of course. Unfortunately, the hole is large and the pressure difference between our ocean depths and open space is too great to withstand for any material we’ve put in place.”

I questioned him then on the precise depth and size of the hole in their ocean. From those numbers, I knew our people could calculate the amount of pressure that was involved. Without getting into the math, I was able to estimate that it would be tremendous, more than enough to fold foot-thick steel like tinfoil.

Really, they were talking about
suction
. On one side of the ring in question there was open space. On the other side was a deep, dark ocean. The water at that depth was crushing in the extreme. When faced with a hole, very little friction, and a vast pressure difference, the water must have been gushing through with fantastic force. Probably, wherever it was coming out, it was a spectacular sight. It would turn instantly into ice and form a long, frozen stream like a glittering comet’s tail that grew steadily in space.

“How did the hole in your oceans come to exist?” I asked.

“The Macros opened it. Is this not obvious?”

“Yes,” I said thoughtfully. “I suppose it is. But I thought your people and the Macros had a treaty and were cooperating.”

“During our last battle, we took certain tactical steps that the Macros found unacceptable. They are still technically allies, but they are actively seeking ways around their agreements.”

I thought about it. The Crustaceans had operated as marines in our recent battles. They’d played the role my own troops had when we’d been working for the Macros. As I went over their actions in my mind, I figured out what he was talking about.

“You mean they are upset with the way you handled yourself in the Eden system? I recall you attempted to retreat, and then finally surrendered your forces to us. The Macros don’t like allies that surrender, right?”

“Correct. The Macros found these actions unacceptable and contrary to our prior agreements. If you ever find yourself serving the machines, know that you have been forewarned.”

I snorted. I probably knew more the topic that Hoon did. Star Force had begun its forays into deep space in the belly of a Macro transport. I’d been a mercenary leader then, nothing else.

“I know all about the ruthless nature of the machines,” I said. “We served them in the past, before we threw off our slave yokes and rebelled. They used my men like machines, ordering us to attack world after world. They’d planned from the start to grind us down until we were all dead.”

“In this rare instance, our experiences have been similar.”

“Let’s get back to our problem and what we can do to help. Possibly, I can use my ships to evacuate your population. How many individuals do you have on Yale?”

“Approximately one trillion.”

My mouth dropped open, and it was a second or two before it closed again. “A
trillion
?” I asked.

“Approximately. Our young are numerous, and quite small. Unfortunately, they are more vulnerable to changes in heat in pressure than are our adults.”

“I see,” I said. I envisioned clouds of young the size of brine shrimp. “Tell me Hoon, how long do we have? How long until these environmental changes become intolerable to your species and your young begin to succumb?”

“The process you describe has been on-going for many days. Our population was nearly two trillion a few weeks ago.”

I was staggered. They’d lost hundreds of billions of lives already? The evil of the Macros was overwhelming.

At the same time, I felt guilty. They’d suffered so much already, and I’d been about to bomb them myself. In a moment of emotion, I’d ordered my ships to unload on their dying civilian populations. Were a few insults and a hundred lost human ships worth that kind of slaughter?

It was a troubling question. But I felt I knew the answer: I’d been in the wrong to give that order.

No matter how irritating our intended victims were, genocide was the business of the machines, not Star Force. I urged myself to remember that in the future.

-8-

We spent another fruitless day watching their oceans drain away while the water that was left heated up steadily. It was dismal and sad.

On the morning of the second day, I ordered Marvin to board a Nano ship and fly down to the surface. I wanted him to observe the phenomenon from within the atmosphere of the planet itself.

We could measure the phenomenon with radar and sonar, but the surface was now obscured. The entire world was wrapped in thick clouds. Really, this was steam, rising up from the warming oceans.

I didn’t need to ask Hoon how things were going for his civilian population. The young must have all perished by now. Only the thicker-shelled adults could survive the warm waters and migrate to areas that were cooler. They were clustering around the poles at both ends of the moon, grimly clinging to life.

There wasn’t much we could do for them. With hundreds of billions of individuals, any evacuation effort would only save a handful. Probably, the panic created by our efforts would kill more than it would save. If I lowered a ship into the atmosphere with an open hold, thousands would try to board. The results might even capsize the ship. Worse, the aliens were aquatic and would require water aboard the rescue ships in order to breathe for an extended period of time. The weight would be tremendous.

No, rescue and evacuation was out of the question. We had to use what we had to save them in another way.

When he returned from the surface, I summoned Marvin. He was in a state of agitation when we met in the conference room. His tentacles were slashing the chairs and cracking like whips on the walls. Fortunately, smart metal furnishings were self-repairing.

“What have you got for me, Marvin?” I asked.

“I’ve completed my preliminary study on the situation. The ocean is draining at a slightly decelerating rate as the pressure drops, but the rate of change is not significant.”

“How long until the oceans drain all the way down to where this spot is exposed and the process stops?”

“Approximately thirteen days.”

“Hmm,” I said. “That gives us a little time, then. And it’s good to know the oceans won’t go all the way down.”

“No, they won’t.”

“So, the situation isn’t entirely dire.”

“That depends upon our goals.”

I frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“If Star Force wants to colonize this world one day, then the situation is beneficial. If our real mission is as stated, however, this is very bad news.”

I stared at him. “Our mission is clear. We’re here to help out the Crustaceans. We’re here to turn them into allies, one more powerful biotic species to stand shoulder-to-shoulder against the machines.”

“Then my report is very dire. The population of this world will be completely annihilated before the thirteen days are up, or shortly thereafter.”

I thought about it. “The heat. You’re saying it’s going to get worse.”

“Yes. Every day the hot ice at the bottom of the oceans is further exposed. This world has very deep oceans, but it would be primarily coated in surface ice if it weren’t for internal heat from geological sources and the compressed hot ice. Now that the oceans are receding, the cool water in the middle depths of the ocean is being drained away. It is true that the ocean will eventually cool again, but it will take some time. Thirteen days is not long enough.”

“Exactly what temperature will the oceans reach by the thirteenth day?”

“The oceans will be near the boiling point by then.”

“Two hundred degrees Fahrenheit?” I asked, incredulous.

“Higher than that. This is saltwater, after all. The boiling point is slightly higher.”

I massaged my temples. I realized dully that a thousand billion sentient beings were going to be boiled alive over the next two weeks if I didn’t get cracking.

“What can we do to stop this?”

“Unknown.”

“That’s not good enough, Marvin. What have you tried? Have you sent in a probe?”

“I’ve sent in many submersibles of various makeshift designs. Few of them were able to survive the turbulence on the way down to the aperture. Most stopped transmitting telemetry and readings even before they reached the event-horizon and vanished. The few that did make it all the way down never came back.”

“Not surprising, really,” I said. “They were programmed to attempt to come back to this side after scanning whatever was on the far side, I assume?”

“Naturally. But there was little hope they would succeed. The gushing pressure on the far side is almost insurmountable. Even if one of the probes did get up enough velocity to punch into the water and reach our side of the ring, they would not survive the impact with high-pressure water.”

“Right,” I said, thinking of the time I’d come back into the atmosphere of Venus from the blue giant system. “Even hitting gas is like hitting a solid object when you’re moving at thousands of miles an hour. Hitting liquid—it would be like smashing into a brick wall. The probes would be obliterated.”

Marvin was watching me carefully from multiple angles. This made me nervous. He wasn’t asking for anything, and I was the only thing in the room for him to study, but I was still wary.

“You’ve got something else in your brainbox,” I said. “Talk to me.”

“I have another possible approach to the situation, Colonel.”

“Yeah. Of course you do. Just tell me.”

“Would I be held responsible for the possible side-effects of experimentation?”

I laughed. “You want me to sign a prenuptial agreement? I’m sorry Marvin, I’m not going to absolve you of responsibilities for some idea I haven’t even heard about yet.”

He scrutinized me for another full second before continuing. “The rings have capacities other than the transmission of physical matter between two locations.”

“You’re talking about relaying transmissions, right? The vibration thing?”

“Not just that. They can be switched on and off. The flow of material can also be reversed. In a sense, they can be opened and closed like doors.”

I nodded, seeing what he was getting at. “That’s self-evident in this case. The ring was always there, the Crustaceans have told us. But it was inactive. Now, someone has figured out how to turn it on and use it to drain their oceans away. My money is on the Macros of course. They’re always looking for a quiet way to kill off their biotic allies that doesn’t violate their existing agreements.”

Marvin’s cameras drew closer to me. “I believe I can gain at least partial control of the ring.”

“What? That’s great!”

The cameras rose up a little higher, showing he appreciated the praise. I had to wonder why he hadn’t brought this up in the first place.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s something I’ve been pondering for a long time. It’s closely related to the process of using the rings to relay vibrations from on system to another. You see, the rings are really in two places at the same time. That is their secret. There aren’t really two rings, there’s only one.”