Peter Hamilton - Judas Unchained

As its investigation progressed, the greatest puzzle came from the errant quantum signature emanating from somewhere deep inside the alien artifact. MorningLightMountain could not understand why it matched its own corona-rupture weapon. Logically it implied the humans on the Second Chance had deployed it against the Dark Fortress. They had the technology, but they appeared to be as bewildered as it was by why the barrier had failed—assuming their records were accurate, and not disinformation.

Such questions were abruptly pushed farther down its priority list when the humans turned the staging post star nova. MorningLightMountain realized it had seriously underestimated human scientific resourcefulness. It was now facing the very extinction event it had begun its expansion campaign to eliminate. Humans would move swiftly after their initial success. They only had one ship, one nova bomb when they attacked the staging post star. It was probably a prototype. If they had more, they would have used them. Right now, their smoothly efficient manufacturing machinery would be producing more ships and bombs. When they had enough to guarantee a successful attack on its home star and all other outposts, they would come.

With its own survival now paramount MorningLightMountain dispatched more ships and equipment through the wormholes already linking it to new, uninhabited star systems where its settlements were establishing themselves. There were over forty now, which would hopefully stretch human resources to locate and destroy them. It also began to install wormhole generators in its largest ships, modifying them for FTL flight. They were nothing like as efficient and fast as the human FTL ships, but they did work. It started to send them through the giant wormhole it had originally built to bridge the gulf between its home system and the Commonwealth, scattering them across interstellar space hundreds of light-years away. Eight had been completed when the immotile group clusters researching the barrier generator detected a wash of sensor radiation. It was coming from a point in space without any physical origin.

MorningLightMountain’s primary thought routines immediately recognized the reason. The advanced human ship had been undetectable. The navy-class humans had arrived to turn the home star nova. Every ship researching the generator launched an attack against the intruder, missiles aiming for the elusive emission point.

It didn’t understand why the human ship had appeared at the generator. Probabilities were examined. If they were here, why had they not simply bombed the star? It would never have known until the moment the star erupted.

Humans were weak, they would avoid a direct confrontation if at all possible. The ship must somehow be attempting to restart the generator. MorningLightMountain feared that as much as it did extinction. With itself cut off from the freedom of the galaxy, it would ultimately die inside the prison of the barrier as the star slowly burned out. This would become its tomb.

MorningLightMountain immediately opened twenty-four wormholes around the intruder, and began to send its most powerful warships through to intercept the humans.

***

“If one of them made it, they should be there by now,” Andria said.

Samantha took yet another glance at the five dead screens standing on Andria’s table. She’d secretly been hoping that the hypergliders might even make it to Aphrodite’s Seat early. It was impossible to accept that all three had failed. Now she didn’t know what to think. Everyone in the cave had listened to the short-wave messages between Paula Myo and Bradley Johansson. She really couldn’t figure out the relevance, but the Investigator was obviously desperate to know about Oscar. Did the information put him in the clear, or condemn him?

Several people in the cave had known Adam. They’d all been shocked by his murder. Samantha found it severely disconcerting; it was hard to accept the Starflyer had got so close to them, that it might still wreck their plans.

“It’s here,” one of the control group said.

Samantha automatically glanced at the five dark screens. Frowned.

“The storm,” Andria said quietly.

Up on the big topographic map projected by the portal, the morning storm was billowing around the lower slopes of Mount Herculaneum. Hammerhead clouds poured out into the Dessault range, riding high-velocity jetstreams. At low altitude the clouds roared around peaks, splitting to churn down valleys and bring a deluge of hard rain; while overhead a smooth-flowing sheet of clear air, kilometers high, fanned out above the mountains, driven by the huge pressure surge from behind.

The picture had gaps. Coverage from the manipulator stations was sporadic; the large array was filling in the omissions as best it could.

“Here we go,” Andria said. “Sequence one, please. Be ready to phase in your sections.”

The Guardians sitting at the tables were abruptly quiet as they studied the data their screens were rolling up. Samantha saw the first echelon of manipulator stations powering up, their gigantic curving blades of energy materializing to rival the rocky peaks they paralleled. Clouds surged in toward their blades, only to be flung on wild curves by the newborn eddies as they began rotating.

“Can we do it?” Samantha asked tersely.

“Sure we can,” Andria said.

Samantha wanted to curse the Starflyer, the useless navy people, Adam for allowing himself to be murdered, the Guardians he’d taken with him, the hyperglider designers, the…

“Hey!” Andria cried. “Carrier signal detected. Coming right at us from Aphrodite’s Seat. Dreaming heavens, they made it.”

The image of the storm began to strengthen with details filling in as the large array processed the incoming data; the swirls and mini-cyclones that squalled off from individual peaks, the long hurricane streams rampaging along the bigger valleys. Jetstream velocity, direction, pressure; it all ran through the large array’s software to be transformed into initial projections. From that came firm commands on how the manipulator stations should perform if the storm was to be amplified and directed as they wanted.

Applause and cheering burst out all down the cave.

“This is Wilson Kime on Aphrodite’s Seat, I hope to God you’re receiving all this. My array says it’s transmitting okay.”

Samantha had to grip the back of Andria’s chair for support as the voice boomed cleanly out of the speakers.

“Deal with him,” Andria snapped. She held out a small mike, never glancing up from her displays.

Samantha took the mike with shaking fingers. “This is Samantha, we’re receiving you just fine, Admiral. The picture is perfect. Thank you.”

“Glad to hear it, Samantha. I have one awesome view from here. The whole world is spread out underneath me, and the detail is astounding. I can see the storm rushing around Herculaneum; it’s moving so fast.”

“Admiral, who else is there with you?”

“I don’t remember the view from orbit ever being so spectacular; and I’ve seen a lot of worlds from space now.”

She gave the mike a worried glance. “Admiral?”

“It was my wife. She was the Starflyer agent.”

“I’m sorry. Where is she?”

“Anna and Oscar never made it out of Stakeout Canyon.”

“Dreaming heavens.”

“I hope this works. I hope this was worth it.”

“We’ll make it work.”

***

Bradley quickly pulled his armor suit on as everyone else hurried to their deployment positions. The air creaked around him as the king eagles took off again, riderless this time, and set out low across the veldt to the east. On the road, the jeeps and trucks backed up, leaving the three armored cars together at the top of the shallow slope. The Paris team and Cat’s Claws formed a tight little group around the first vehicle, weapon barrels were sliding up out of various segments of the suits in readiness. They were talking among themselves, using secure links. One did what looked like a little jig.