Jack Campbell: Invincible

“A raid?” Captain Badaya asked, but then answered his own question. “Even if we didn’t have to worry about them launching another several hundred of those suicide craft against us when we approached that fortress, how do we knock down the surface defenses when our bombardment can be deflected? How do we land shuttles when they might also be tossed around by that defense system?”

Carabali shook her head. “Any group of shuttles trying to reach the surface of one of those fortresses would be annihilated by the weapons we can spot on the surface. If the fleet can’t reduce those defenses, there’s no way to get any Marines into those things. Not alive, anyway.”

“What about full stealth gear?” Badaya pressed.

“I don’t have enough of that to get a decent force in place. Even if they all made it down in one piece, it would be like throwing a thimble of sand at a mountain.” Carabali paused, frowning. “We also don’t know whether or not our stealth capabilities will work against the sensors these aliens use. Maybe they would. Maybe they wouldn’t.”

Badaya grimaced. “The only way to find out would be to try.”

General Carabali’s frown darkened into a thundercloud, but before she could erupt, Geary broke in. “I’m sure that Captain Badaya isn’t suggesting that we try. He’s just noting that we have no other means of being certain what the aliens can do. An actual assault in the face of those uncertainties would be a measure of last resort, and we’re a long ways from such a point.”

Carabali relaxed a bit, while Badaya seemed briefly startled at the reaction to his statement. “Yes. Of course that’s what I meant.”

“We do know one thing,” Tulev pointed out. “The enigmas have been neighbors to these other aliens for unknown years. But they do not have this device. Our bombardments of enigma targets went home without hindrance. The enigmas, with all of their tricks and deceptions, with all of their worms and Trojan horses, with all of their combat capabilities, have not been able to acquire this thing.”

“Maybe if we tell them that we’re enemies of the enigmas—” Badaya began.

“We’ve tried,” Rione broke in. “No response.”

Badaya looked annoyed at the interruption by Rione, then focused back on Geary. “Admiral, what do we know about the species here?”

“We know they’re bloodthirsty bastards,” Captain Vitali replied. “Just like the enigmas.”

Geary tapped a control, and the image of the reconstructed alien appeared over the table, the image seeming to be directly in front of every individual in the meeting.

There was a pause. Someone laughed. Someone else cursed. “Teddy bears?” Commander Neeson finally demanded.

“Teddy bear-cows,” Desjani corrected.

Dr. Nasr frowned. “That’s not medically accurate. Their DNA is unrelated to bears or cows. However, from the pieces we found and the use of them to reconstruct one of the creatures, we are certain that they are herbivores, they are intelligent, and their hands are suited to fine motor manipulation.”

“Wait,” Badaya said. “Herbivores? We were attacked by…” He looked at Desjani. “Cows?”

“Maybe they’re slaves of some kind of predator that sent them on that suicide attack,” a cruiser commander suggested.

Lieutenant Iger shook his head. “We’ve finally cracked the video system they use. So far we’ve seen a lot of images of these creatures but nothing that even hints at anything that dominates them or is an equal. Our observation of the primary inhabited planet also shows nothing consistent with the existence of a ruling predator class. Everything is uniform. Every building. Every square meter of land. There’s no real variation in anything. A predator ruling class would have open areas around special structures.”

Duellos frowned at Iger. “No variation? A monolithic culture?”

“That’s what it looks like, sir.”

“What’s your estimate of the planetary population given what we’ve learned about these creatures?” Geary asked.

“At least thirty billion, Admiral. That’s the lowest possible estimate.” Iger heard the gasps of astonishment and looked around defiantly. “They’re packed in. Shoulder to shoulder. Everywhere.”

“Herd animals.” This time everyone looked at Professor Shwartz, one of the civilian experts. “Herd animals,” she repeated. “Herbivores. In the videos Lieutenant Iger has been able to access, we always see them in crowds, even when there is extra space in a room. They cluster together by choice. They are comfortable being in a tight group and uncomfortable being separate.”

Badaya shook his head. “That may be, but cows? Attacking us?”

“You think herbivores pose no threat?” Shwartz asked. “They can be very dangerous. One of the deadliest animals on Old Earth was the hippopotamus. Others were… elephants. And… rhinoceros… es. Rhinoceri? The point is, all herbivores. But if they thought they or their herds were threatened, they attacked. Fast, determined, and deadly. Weaponry with sufficient hitting power could stop them. Nothing else could.”

“That does sound like the engagement we just fought,” Duellos admitted.

“And it fits the lack of communication,” Shwartz added. “They aren’t interested in talking. They don’t negotiate because to them, any foe wants to kill them. Predators. You don’t negotiate with predators! You either kill them, or they kill you.”

“But they would negotiate among themselves,” Neeson suggested. “Or would they? Herd animals. They just do what the leader says, don’t they?”

“At least thirty billion,” Charban murmured, his voice getting picked up by the software and broadcast clearly. “What happens when the herd animals kill off all of the predators? The herds just get bigger and bigger.”

“Why didn’t they starve?” Badaya demanded.

“Why didn’t humans starve when their population on Old Earth went from thousands to millions to billions? We were intelligent. We learned how to produce more food. A lot more food. And these are intelligent herbivores.”

“We’re a threat,” Professor Shwartz said. “We’ve shown them images of ourselves when we tried to communicate. They can tell from what they could see of our teeth that we are at best omnivores, possibly just carnivores. They didn’t become masters of their world by being meek or passive. They must have the ability to be aggressive when they feel threatened. That means they will keep trying to destroy us, before we kill and eat them.”

“And they won’t listen when we tell them that we don’t want to eat them?” Duellos asked.

“No. Of course not. If you were a sheep, would you trust the reassurances of a wolf?”

“I don’t think I would get the opportunity to do so more than once,” Duellos replied.

“They’re like the enigmas,” Badaya said with obvious distaste. “They want to kill us, and they don’t care about the lives of their own… people. They’re willing to launch suicide attacks without hesitating.”

The moment of quiet agreement that followed was broken by General Charban. “Captain, if you were a member of an intelligent alien species, and you had observed the behavior of humanity for the past hundred years as we fought the Syndicate Worlds, would you conclude that humans cared much for the life of other humans? Or would you decide that we were willing to spend countless human lives without visible signs of hesitation or remorse?”

Badaya reddened, searching for a reply.

“It’s not the same thing,” Captain Vitali objected sharply.

Tulev spoke, his words coming out slowly. “We know this, or we think we know this, but some of the actions of humans do not do us credit. We know this ourselves as well. To an outside observer, those actions might seem even worse.”