Adrian Tchaikovsky - Children of Time

‘I reckon it’s still just automatic signals,’ Lain guessed.

‘Tell it we’re responding to its distress call.’

Holsten had already phrased a reply in scholar’s language which read as formally as an academy exercise, then had Lain and the Gilgamesh transcribe the message into the same electronic format the satellite was using.

The waiting, as the signals danced across those millions of kilometres of void, was soon stretching everybody’s nerves.

‘It’s calling itself the Second Brin Sentry Habitat,’ Holsten translated eventually. ‘It’s basically telling us to alter our course to avoid the planet.’ Before Guyen could ask, he added, ‘and it’s not mentioning the distress call now. I think, because we’ve gone in with an answer to whatever it was signalling to the planet, it’s that system we’re interacting with.’

‘Well, tell it who we are and tell them we’re coming to help them,’ Guyen instructed him.

‘Seriously, I’m not sure—’

‘Just do it, Mason.’

‘Why would it be signalling elementary maths to the planet?’ Vitas complained to nobody in particular.

‘I can see all sorts of systems coming online, I think,’ added her underling at the sensor suite. ‘This is incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘I’m launching some drones, both for the sat and for the planet,’ Karst announced.

‘Agreed,’ said Guyen.

‘It doesn’t recognize us,’ Holsten reported, frantically translating the latest message from the satellite, stumbling over its antique grammar. ‘It says we’re not authorized here. It says… something about biological hazard.’ And, at the shudder that went through the crew, ‘No, wait, it’s calling us an unauthorized biohazard. It’s… I think it’s threatening us.’

‘How big is this thing, again?’ Karst demanded.

‘A little under twenty metres on its longest axis,’ was the reply from the science team.

‘Well, then, bring it on.’

‘Karst, this is Old Empire tech,’ Holsten snapped.

‘We’ll see what that’s worth when the drones get there.’ As the Gilgamesh was still fighting to slow down, the drones outstripped it rapidly, their own thrust hurrying them towards the planet and its lone sentinel at an acceleration that a manned craft could not have managed without pulping its occupants.

‘I have another warning to divert,’ Holsten reported. ‘Look, I think we’re in the same position as with the distress call. Whatever we’re sending it just isn’t being recognized by the system. Probably if we were supposed to be here we’d have the right codes or something.’

‘You’re the classicist, so work them out,’ Guyen snapped.

‘It’s not like that. It’s not like the Old Empire had a single… what, password or something.’

‘We have archives of Imperial transmissions, don’t we? So just strip some protocols from those.’

Holsten sent a glance of mute appeal towards Lain, but she was avoiding his gaze. Without entertaining any hope whatsoever, he began paring ID and greetings codes from those fragments of Old Empire recordings that had survived, and throwing them at random towards the satellite.

‘I’ve got signal from the drones on screen,’ Karst reported, and a moment later they were looking at the planet itself. It was still just a glint, barely distinct from the surrounding starfield, even with the best magnification of the drones’ electronic eyes, but they could see it growing. A minute later and Vitas pointed out the tiny pinprick shadow of its moon passing across the planet’s surface.

‘Where’s the satellite?’ Guyen demanded.

‘Not that you’d see it at this distance, but it’s coming round from the far side, using the planet’s atmosphere and the moon to bounce its signal to us.’

‘Drone parties splitting off now,’ Karst reported. ‘Let’s take a proper look at this Brin thing.’

‘More warnings. Nothing’s getting through to it,’ Holsten slipped in, aware that by now nobody was really listening to him.

‘Karst, remember, no damage to the satellite once you contact,’ Guyen was saying. ‘Whatever tech’s there, we want it in one piece.’

‘No problems. And there she is. Starting our run right now.’

‘Karst—’

‘Relax, Commander. They know what they’re doing.’

Holsten glanced up to see the drones fixing their aim at a point on the growing green orb’s circumference.

‘Look at that colour,’ Vitas breathed.

‘Unhealthy,’ Lain agreed.

‘No, that’s… that’s old Earth colour. Green.’

‘This is it,’ one of the engineers whispered. ‘We’re here. We made it.’

‘Visual on the satellite,’ Karst announced, highlighting a tiny glint on the screen.

‘“This is the Second Brin Sentry Habitat,”’ Holsten read out insistently. ‘“This planet is claimed by the…” The, what? Something… “ Exaltation Program , and any interference is forbidden.”’

‘Exaltation what?’ Lain asked sharply.

‘I don’t know. I…’ Holsten was racking his brains for references, hunting through the ship’s archives. ‘There was something about… the Old Empire fell because it descended into sinful ways. You know the myth cycle?’

A few grunts of confirmation.

‘The exaltation of beasts – that was one of the sins of the ancients.’

Karst let out a yelp of surprise and moments later the transmissions from his satellite-bound drones exploded into static.

‘Ah, shit! Everything heading for the satellite just died!’ he bellowed.

‘Lain—’ Guyen started.

‘Already on it. Last moments of…’ A busy silence as she worked. ‘Here, this is the last one to go, by about a second. There – brief power surges – and the other drones are gone. Then this one goes right after. It just blew your drones, Karst.’

‘What with? Why would it need a—?’

‘Look, that thing could be serious military hardware, for all we know,’ Lain snapped.

‘Or it would need to be ready to track and deal with deep-space object impact,’ suggested Vitas. ‘Anti-asteroid lasers, maybe?’

‘I’m…’ Lain was frowning at the readouts. ‘I’m not sure it did shoot… Karst, how open are the drone systems?’

The security chief swore.

‘We are still heading towards it,’ Holsten pointed out. Even as he said this, some of the other drone screens were dying – the machines Karst had been sending planetside. The satellite was snuffing them out the moment it rounded the world enough to obtain line of sight.

‘What the fuck’s going on?’ Karst demanded, fighting for control, sending his last pair of machines zigzagging towards the planet. A moment later there was a sudden energy spike, a colossal expenditure of power from the satellite, and one of the two surviving machines was gone.

‘Now that was a shot,’ Lain confirmed grimly. ‘That atomized the bastard.’

Karst swore foully as he coded instructions for the last machine, sending it spiralling towards the planet, trying to keep the curve of the horizon between the drone and the satellite.

‘Are those weapons a danger to the Gilgamesh ?’ Guyen asked, and the room fell silent.

‘Probably, yes.’ Vitas sounded unnaturally calm. ‘However, given how much energy we’ve just seen, its ability to use them may be limited.’

‘It won’t need a second shot at us,’ Lain said grimly. ‘We’re not going to be able to deviate from this course – not significantly. We’re already decelerating as much as is safe – we have too much momentum. We’re plotted to come into orbit.’

‘It’s telling us to leave or it will destroy us,’ Holsten said tonelessly. As the Gilgamesh ’s computers adapted, they became quicker at bringing him a comprehensible record of the signal, and he found that he was now reading the reproduction of an ancient script almost fluently. Even before any demands from Guyen, he was already phrasing his reply: Travellers in distress. Do not initiate hostile action. Civilian transport ship requires assistance. Lain was looking over his shoulder critically as he sent it.