Page 43 of The Caphenon


  “Your language chip even has the words for individual gases? How did Lhyn manage that?” Tal asked.

  “She didn’t. One of her physical scientists contributed those translations, but even that wasn’t comprehensive. Kameha’s new team drew the atomic construction of each gas and numbered the protons, electrons, and neutrons. He said it reminded him of his school days. And just between you and me, I think he’s actually enjoying himself.”

  “I remember taking tests like that,” Micah said.

  “Me too,” said Tal. “But yours were easier. They didn’t have as many gases back then; Alsea was a younger planet.”

  “And that’s how I know you’re feeling better, when you insult me.”

  Serrado smiled down at her plate.

  “Micah—it couldn’t be the nanoscrubbers, could it?”

  “Yaserka mentioned that too. They’re looking into it, but he didn’t think it was possible. The nanoscrubbers don’t destroy physical material.”

  “Nanoscrubbers?” Serrado asked. “I’ve heard that word before.”

  “Molecule-sized machines built to scrub our environment,” Tal said. “You heard it during the funeral, when Lead Templar Satran talked about the ways we protect Alsea. I think I mentioned that we had a catastrophic nuclear accident some time ago. We lost far too many Alseans to radiation poisoning before our scientists designed the nanoscrubbers. But Micah’s right. They don’t destroy physical material.”

  Serrado put down her fork. “Hullskin emits radiation.”

  “Ionizing radiation?”

  “Yes, but it’s not dangerous. I suppose it could be if a person stripped naked and laid on top of the ship for a few hanticks, but even clothing blocks it. It surely wouldn’t be the type your nanoscrubbers were meant to neutralize. Still, that’s the most likely lead we have.”

  “Yaserka and Eroles will be at the war council,” Micah said. “If they’ve learned anything, we’ll find out then.”

  They ate in silence for a few ticks, until Serrado dabbed her mouth with the napkin and said, “I had an interesting conversation with Admiral Tsao this afternoon. She was…less than pleased to learn that the Assembly voted on a fraudulent negotiation. By now the real scans of those planets have been distributed through Fleet channels and into the hands of a few ministers who can be trusted. I expect that by this time tomorrow, there’s going to be some very bad publicity happening for a few corporations.”

  “Will they be brought to account?”

  Her laugh was short and unamused. “I doubt it. They’ll counter with their own publicity, calling me the fraud and saying the files are fake. There will be an independent truth-finding mission formed, and when it comes back with the same results, they’ll say it was stacked with biased observers. It’s going to be a public relations battle, and one side has a lot more cash and power than the other. But my side has a few more political connections where it counts. I don’t think the peace treaty will survive—my guess is that the vote will be nullified and a revote called. The problem is that nothing in the Assembly happens quickly. The Voloth certainly aren’t going to wait to see how it all turns out. I wish I had better news, but Alsea is still on its own. Any help that may eventually be dispatched will come far too late.”

  “I wish you had better news, too, but I wasn’t expecting a miracle.” Tal glanced at Serrado’s bare collar and wondered how she’d explained that to her admiral. “If you’d like your bars back, they’re still in my jacket pocket.”

  Serrado shook her head. “It’s too late for that. At some point Baldassar is going to report in. I didn’t want his version to be the first that Fleet heard, so I told Admiral Tsao what happened and why I made the decision I did.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That I have serious issues with timing. She understands why I did it, but that doesn’t mean she can protect me. She wasn’t happy to learn about Lhyn, either. My Fleet career is over. I’m hoping I can start a new one here with you, assuming we all survive the next few days.”

  Her voice was calm, but there was a difference between renouncing something and having it taken away. Captain Serrado was in mourning, and Tal impulsively reached across to rest her hand on the table.

  “Please take it,” she said.

  Serrado was startled, but hesitated only a moment before clasping her hand.

  “I’m sorry,” Tal told her, projecting her regret. “Truly. I knew you’d pay a price no matter which choice you made, and I hate that I had to put you in that position. As a warrior and a leader I know what you’ve lost.” She tightened her grip and shifted the projection. “But if we survive this battle, then I swear on my honor you’ll have that career. If your Fleet is so foolish that it casts off one of its most skilled warriors because she made the only ethical decision possible, then I’m happy to profit from their idiocy. You are very welcome here.”

  Serrado’s eyes brightened with unshed tears, and she nodded without speaking.

  Tal let go of her hand. “We’ll have to create a new position for you. What do you think, Micah? First Alsean Ambassador? How about Admiral of the Alsean Space Fleet? Since of course we’re going to build one.”

  “I’d say Admiral. And since she’s not in the warrior caste, she can’t be expected to report to Shantu. She’ll have to report directly to you.”

  “Oh, you’re right. Won’t that raise some eyebrows? We could put her on the High Council and really shake things up.”

  “Why would you do that to the poor woman? I thought you were trying to reward her, not punish her.”

  Serrado’s laugh was scratchy with tears, but there was a spark of joy behind it. “You’re both a little cracked, aren’t you? I know what you’re doing, and I thank you for it. It really helps to know I have a home of sorts.”

  “Not of sorts,” Tal said. “Just a home. Now all we need to do is protect it.”

  “True words.” Micah set his knife and fork together on the plate. “And now that we have a mostly rested and very well-fed Lancer in charge, with a skilled Protectorate captain offering her services, we have a far better chance than we did this morning.”

  “The well-fed part is certainly right.” Tal swallowed her last bite and laid down her own utensils. “Micah, thank you. That was delicious.”

  “You’re welcome. There’s dessert, you know.”

  “Panfruit pastries?”

  “Good guess. Captain, would you like dessert?”

  “I’d love some. May I help you clear?”

  “I think it’s a three-person job.” Tal stood with the others, and they had the dishes piled on the cart in half a tick. Micah carried the pastry dish back while Tal and Serrado brought fresh plates and forks, and soon they were seated once more.

  “Is this another childhood comfort food?” Serrado asked as she lifted a forkful. “Oh…it’s excellent.”

  Tal nodded. “One of my favorites.”

  “Mine too,” Micah said. “Actually, I think I’m the one who introduced you to them.”

  “You two date back that far?”

  “Tal’s father was my best friend before he met her mother.” Micah cut off another corner of his pastry. “It’s not possible to date back any further.”

  “I can’t remember a time in my life when Micah wasn’t there,” Tal said.

  “Amazing. You’re very fortunate.”

  Tal paused and met Micah’s gaze. “Yes, I am.”

  He smiled at her and held up his glass. “To a future even better than our past. If the battle hinges on honor and worth, we’ll have no worries.”

  Lifting her own glass, Tal shortened his toast. “To a future.”

  “To a future,” they agreed, and the room rang with the sound of tapping glass.

  Chapter 49

  War council

  For the sixth evening in a row, Tal sat in the strategy room beneath Blacksun Base and faced a bank of vidcoms showing the commanding officers of every base on Alsea. But this night was very dif
ferent than the previous five. Captain Serrado sat on her left, self-assured, fully informed, and planning her own part in the battle. It had fallen into place even better than Tal had dared to hope.

  “I just wish we could move the Caphenon,” Serrado said. “It’s really in the worst position possible. The only working weapons I have that can easily target the skies over Blacksun are those in the engine cradle. If Candini had landed it with the port side facing Blacksun, we’d have a lot more to work with.”

  “We can move it.” Prime Builder Eroles was in an arresting combination of purple and green, but on her it worked. “Your ship may be enormous, but it’s on a rounded base. That’s easy to shift. Give us half a day to set up the equipment and half a day to move it, and we can have it facing any way you want.”

  “Can you level it out as well?”

  “Yes. I imagine that would make things a bit easier, wouldn’t it?”

  “Immensely.” Serrado leaned forward, her dark blue eyes shining. “Then if you can supply me with the personnel, and I have enough time to train them, the Caphenon can defend Blacksun from the ground pounders. Our defense grid is designed to hit incoming missiles moving at very high speeds. Ground pounders dropping straight in from orbit would be child’s play by comparison.”

  The air of the room shifted as every Alsean there let out a sigh of relief. This was the best news possible. With Blacksun off the board, they had a much better chance of covering the other critical areas. Tal was particularly happy that she could now shelve the evacuation plan for Blacksun. Here, at least, the population was safer inside the city than out of it.

  “But there’s still the matter of the fighters,” Serrado warned. “Those are much harder to hit, and they have powerful weaponry. Ordinarily, they’d be no threat to the Caphenon, but my shielding is spotty at best. As soon as the fighters figure out that the Caphenon is the real danger in the area, they’ll converge on it, and with my lack of shields they could conceivably destroy the ship.”

  “Then you need shields,” Tal said. “Can we help you repair them?”

  “I don’t know; I’ll have to ask Commander Kameha what he can do with unskilled labor.”

  “Our labor may be unskilled in those specific repairs,” Eroles said, “but I would send you my best, and they’d learn quickly.”

  “I believe they would.” Serrado smiled at the Prime Builder. “You’re giving me hope.”

  “No, you’re giving us hope,” Tal said. “But how much of a threat are the fighters if they’re susceptible to the same hullskin issues your ships are?”

  “Candini flew her fighter for thirty-five ticks before it developed problems. We flew our shuttle from the Caphenon to Blacksun Base and back again before the first issues came up, and even then we made a controlled flight back to the State House. Whatever is causing the hullskin degradation isn’t doing it fast enough to stop the Voloth fighters before they could inflict a great deal of damage.”

  Tal supposed that would have been too easy. “Then we’re back to worrying about repairing your shields. But that does give me an idea. Instead of trying to do battle with those fighters, which we know is going to result in catastrophic losses, what if our pilots delayed them instead?”

  “Play a game of chase?” Colonel Razine asked. “I like it.”

  “Devious.” Shantu’s tone was approving. “I like that, too. We’ll make them run themselves into the ground, literally.”

  Several ticks were spent discussing specific maneuvers and strategies for delaying the fighters before they turned their focus to arms.

  “Is it possible to transfer some of your weaponry our way?” Colonel Debrett asked from his screen. “I’d certainly welcome the opportunity to take this battle on the offensive, rather than waiting for a ground pounder to step on a mine.”

  Serrado shook her head. “The rail guns and missile launchers are too deeply integrated into the ship’s systems. I can give you missiles to rewire and detonate remotely, and they’re easily powerful enough to destroy a ground pounder. The catch is that they’ll destroy everything else as well, for a half-length radius. And the warheads are nuclear.”

  A buzz of dismay filled the room.

  “If it comes to that, I’d rather deal with radiation issues than watch Alsea fall to the Voloth,” Tal said. “What if we stockpiled nanoscrubbers in advance and had them ready for deployment immediately after the battle?”

  “But you’re still talking about a zone of destruction a length in diameter.” That was Colonel Spalldon, speaking from Redmoon. “An explosion like that would wipe out entire villages.”

  “Obviously, we wouldn’t use them near villages,” Shantu said. “The Voloth will be targeting cities first, before they fan out into the countryside.”

  “So you’re going to blow up length-sized blocks of cities instead?” Spalldon rolled his eyes. “Yes, that will cause far fewer fatalities. Not everyone will evacuate, and we won’t have the time or personnel to enforce the order.”

  “I think it’s time we all accepted that fatalities are going to happen regardless,” Shantu snapped. “This is a battle for our very survival. Get over any fantasies about a clean win.”

  “If we’re talking about using nuclear warheads for offense, then we need to reconsider our evacuation plans,” said Colonel Razine. “It makes little sense to evacuate civilians from the cities only to blow them up or irradiate them with Gaian warheads out in the countryside.”

  The door opened and Yaserka rushed in, disheveled and out of breath. “I’m sorry I’m late. But we know what’s happening to the Caphenon.”

  He could hardly have planned a better entrance; every eye in the room was trained on him. Straightening his rumpled jacket, he walked up to the empty chair next to Eroles and sat down.

  “Are you going to tell us any time soon?” Razine asked in a too-calm voice.

  “It’s the nanoscrubbers.”

  “You said that wasn’t possible,” Micah said from his seat on Tal’s right.

  “I didn’t think it was. And it’s not, if the nanoscrubbers were still what we released all those cycles ago. But they’ve modified themselves.”

  “Your nanoscrubbers are…self-aware?”

  “No, Captain. They’re not sentient. But they were programmed to replicate themselves when their targeted radiation was plentiful, and then go dormant when that energy source was absent. That design meant there had to be a certain amount of artificial intelligence built into them. Somehow they’ve shifted their original programming. Instead of passively waiting for an energy source to come to them, they’re now actively seeking it. That’s why they’ve begun to break down physical matter.”

  “But from what I understand, the type of radiation our hullskin emits isn’t the type the nanoscrubbers were built to target.”

  “It’s not. But it’s a new type the nanoscrubbers haven’t seen before. That radiation signature isn’t native to Alsea, which means it’s not on the exclusion list the nanoscrubbers were programmed with. So they’ve decided it’s a food source. They’re drawn to it like flies to dokshin.”

  Shantu snorted, and Tal covered up her smile. When Yaserka was excited, he sometimes forgot to keep up the image of the upright, perfectly-spoken scholar.

  “Stars and Shippers, that explains everything. The hullskin only emits radiation when it’s active. The Caphenon’s hullskin has always been active; it’s an automatic function. If the ship has any power at all, the hullskin is active, and even after the crash we still had backup power. But Candini’s fighter and the shuttle—their hullskins were only active during actual flight. As soon as the engines are turned off, everything is off.”

  “Which is why you had no signs of damage even when your shuttle sat outside for days,” Tal said.

  “No visible signs,” the captain corrected. “But the nanoscrubbers were probably breaking it down the moment we fired the engine and flew it out of the bay. Then we powered it down as soon as we landed and there went th
e energy source.”

  “So there’s a window of time that you can fly before the damage gets to the point where flight controls are compromised,” Tal said. “Which we already knew. This doesn’t help us with the Voloth, but maybe it can help you get your people off Alsea.”

  “I don’t think so; the window is too small. Definitely not long enough for a shuttle to drop in, pick us up, and get back into orbit. And even if it were, I wouldn’t trust a shuttle in the atmosphere at escape velocity with a compromised hullskin.”

  “It’s dependent on speed,” Yaserka interjected. “The faster you fly, the more nanoscrubbers you collect along the way.”

  “Of course. That’s why the fighter was affected so much more quickly than the shuttle…and why the Caphenon was already showing so much destruction even when we landed, because we were traveling at such high sp—oh, holy Hades.” Serrado’s emotions sharpened into the fierceness that Tal had felt from her once before.

  “Lancer Tal, you have a weapon. A shockingly powerful one. Your entire atmosphere is a weapon.” She laughed in delight and looked around the room. “Don’t you see? You don’t have to worry about the Voloth fighters. On atmospheric entry they’ll be rocketing through at twenty times the speed of sound. They’ll collect enough nanoscrubbers in the descent to destroy most of their flight capability before they get close enough to fire a shot. You’ll wipe out half the invasion force without lifting a finger.”

  Chapter 50

  The only way

  “I think we should adjourn for the night and come back tomorrow morning. We’ve hit a wall and we’re getting nowhere. We should all get some sleep and come back fresh.”

  Micah’s calm voice was a balm to Tal’s ears after the shouting she’d been listening to. It had been nearly two hanticks since Captain Serrado had given them so much hope with her realization about the Voloth fighters. Two hanticks of discussing how to deal with the ground pounders that would be landing all over Alsea’s two continents, far from the range of the Caphenon’s weapons. Blacksun would be protected, but try as they might, they were not coming up with acceptable plans for the rest. No matter how they divided their forces, planned, strategized, theorized, or fantasized, they were looking at catastrophic loss and destruction. Tal wanted to put her head on the table and weep. The price for fighting off this invasion was going to be immeasurable, and Alsea would never be the same. Besides the horrific losses to their infrastructure and architecture, they were probably going to lose an entire generation.