S. Swann - Prophets
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- Название:Prophets
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The priests see the world of Men as Hell only because they haven’t come here.
Kugara asked what was going on here, with the scars of battle, the abandoned structures, and the crystal edifice in front of them.
Nickolai had thought the revelations could not become worse. Then he heard the man who was a 175-year-old woman answer Kugara.
They stood mere meters from the ultimate sin of the Fallen, the most dangerous and vile presumption of God’s power. The geometric crystals glinting in the light hid a hive of self-replicating machines whose sole purpose was to consume matter and remake it in its own image. This was the demon that tempted man into his final fall, that spoke the seductive whispers that a man could equal God Himself, symbol of the hubris that had cost a billion souls.
It was a sin that the Fallen could never erase, even with centuries of turning away from such heresies. Even the colonists here—who gave themselves over to a hideously intimate evil—even they had seen the wisdom of trying to destroy this.
Kugara stared at the crystal forms, and Nickolai felt her shudder against his arm. “What is that doing here?”
“It came from Xi Virginis.”
“What?”
“It ran into something en route to the other end of the galaxy and was severely damaged,” Flynn/Tetsami said. “It can’t hold much of a conversation, but it is worried that whatever damaged it is coming here.”
“What damaged it?” Kugara asked.
Flynn/Tetsami shook his head. “It isn’t quite clear on what it is. It called it ‘The Other,’ and it seems afraid of it—”
Nickolai found his voice. “How is it that you speak to it?” The words were almost a growl.
“It can form a—robot? cyborg?—something the size and shape of a human being. It talked to us a while, then it reabsorbed itself. I think it’s trying to fix some sort of damage. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it, or anyone else for that matter.”
“It should be destroyed,” Nickolai whispered. He spoke in a register so low that the others didn’t seem to hear him.
“What did it say about this ‘Other’?” Kugara asked.
Flynn/Tetsami shook his head. “It described it as a cloud, sometimes as a virus, sometimes as a complete abstraction: ‘the change without consent.’ What I could understand is that what I talked to was the remains of the autopilot for the Protean probe. The probe actually changed course to investigate some spectral anomalies happening to Xi Virginis. By the time it got within a light-year or so, the whole solar system was gone.”
“It knows what happened?”
“The Other,” Flynn/Tetsami said. “The Other somehow consumed—”
Nickolai heard the aircraft first. He raised his head to look at the sky. In a few moments, the two others followed his lead, looking up.
“One aircraft,” Nickolai said.
“Mr. Shane? We need confirmation to detonate the nuke.”
Alexander looked at the security footage. Flynn and the offworlders were looking up.
“Mr. Shane, sir?”
The Confederacy, or what was left of it, was about to take Salmagundi. He saw no hope of resistance. Seventy-five ships now.
They sent that many this far. He looked at the security camera feed of the crystalline invader. He wondered if it was the invader they pursued. He knew human history before the founding of Salmagundi. He knew the taboos against heretical technologies that would condemn the Hall of Minds. He also knew that Flynn’s discovery would be an order of magnitude worse in the eyes of the fleet descending upon them.
The two offworlders he saw in the security footage, they were clearly an advance team. Diplomats or spies, it didn’t matter—they belonged to the fleet entering orbit. How would the newcomers accept their loss? Could he afford to provoke them?
“Sir?”
In the past, the Confederacy had blown the crust off of planets infected by the kind of nanotechnology that lived in the egg Flynn Jorgenson had found. Just its presence here was a provocation.
The Hall of Minds was taboo to them and might be destroyed by an invasion. But intelligent, self-replicating nanotech? That was an abomination that might cost the lives of everyone on this planet.
It wasn’t really a choice.
“Sir?”
Alexander rubbed his fingers across the tattoos on his brow and said, “Detonate the nuke.”
Date: 2526.6.4 (Standard) 620,000 km from Salmagundi-HD 101534
Admiral Hussein reached the bridge still wearing the jumpsuit that he had worn under his EVA suit. Even before he said “at ease” to the bridge crew, he saw that the situation had developed alarmingly. The main screen showed a magnified image of the planet, and just coming into visual range over the horizon was an Ibrahim-class carrier, the twin of the Voice.
There was no question it was Bitar’s ship.
There was also no question, given the enhanced visuals, that the Sword had deployed its own hundred-ship battle group.
What the hell does he think he’s doing?
“Captain,” Hussein asked, “Any communication with the ship?”
“No response yet, sir. They’re deploying in a defensive grid around the planet.”
Hussein shook his head. The Sword ’s fleet was deploying between them and the planet, almost as if they intended to repel the Voice ’s approach. The Voice and its fleet was still over half a million klicks; the Sword had tached in to within five thousand.
“Give me a secure transmission to the Sword, ” Hussein said.
“Yes, sir,” responded Captain Rasheed.
Admiral Hussein straightened himself and stepped over to the square that marked the focus of the holo cameras. When the comm tech told him he was live, he spoke to the Sword.
“This is Admiral Hussein on the Prophet’s Voice . In the name of the Eridani Caliphate, the Prophet, and our God, respond and declare your intentions.”
A few seconds later, the comm tech responded, “We have a transmission back, sirs.”
“Put it on the main screen,” Admiral Hussein ordered.
The holo showing the Sword silhouetted against the blue-white horizon of the planet changed to show Hussein’s opposite number, Admiral Bitar.
“Greetings, Admiral Hussein, I trust this day finds you well.”
Hussein nodded slightly. “To what exactly do we owe the pleasure of your presence, Admiral Bitar?”
There was enough space between them that there was a noticeable lag before Bitar’s answer. “I am sorry, this all may seem a bit rude of me. As I told you earlier, we are about to embark upon a new age. I am simply ensuring that everything goes as planned.”
“Admiral, I know of no plans involving the Prophet’s Sword contacting this planet.”
After two seconds of waiting, Bitar laughed. “Forgive me, Muhammad. I wasn’t talking about the Caliphate’s plans.”
Hussein stared at Bitar’s image, shocked. Even though he suspected something odd on the basis of the prior transmission, he had not expected a bald-faced admission of treason. He gestured to the comm officer to mute the outbound transmission and turned toward Captain Rasheed.
“Immediate orders to the whole fleet. Treat any ship with a transponder signature from the Sword as a potentially hostile enemy vessel.”
“Admiral?”
“Do it.”
“Admiral Hussein,” Bitar said on the holo, “are you still receiving me?”
Hussein gestured to have his transmission come back on-line. “Yes, I am. Exactly whose plans are you referring to?”
“The natives of Xi Virginis, of course.”
“There is no Xi Virginis,” Hussein said. “Not anymore. There are no ‘colonists who have discovered a means to harness all the energy produced by the star.’ ”
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