Chapter 23: Cold War

Ben was gone when I finally emerged from his guest suite the next morning. He’d left word with Ohmu that he was going to the settlement’s administration building and would be busy seeing to the temporary reallocation of Martian personnel and industry.

I ate breakfast alone in Ben’s kitchen unit as although Riho was awake, she had already eaten and was now in the upper dome chamber playing her tenor bassoon. The music was a melodramatic counterpoint to the deep thoughts I still had swirling in my head from the previous night’s disaster.

“Ohmu, how is everyone?”

“Uxe, Hannah, Alek, and Dejah are all well,” the android replied, knowing whom I was concerned about the most. “After a virtually productive but physically uneventful trip, Uxe arrived on Elon two hours ago and is now asleep. Hannah and Alek are still at work assisting with the last rescues of trapped but uninjured humans. Both have had short rest periods throughout the night and are in good spirits. Dejah is now resting after performing medical triage all night. She is scheduled to return to Mars sometime tomorrow.”

“What’s the final tally?” I asked next.

“Thirty-seven injured, fourteen severely enough to require reshelling or extensive bio-suspension repair. Eight deceased,” Ohmu reported without pause.

“How much time?” I asked softly.

“Those killed have mostly adhered to the mandatory quarterly mind-data backup schedule. The average duration of lost uniqueness was seven weeks,” the android reported. “The greatest individual loss was thirteen weeks.”

I paused eating and rubbed my forehead. That was more than a year of living experience lost when combined. Bad, but not that bad.

“Note that while on Phobos, all activities have been fully recorded. Those who suffered existential losses will have the ability to review those time periods extensively if they wish,” Ohmu explained. “In addition, individual dream programs have been created for each victim using the recorded data. These programs will be integrated into the recovery process.

Both methods of existential recovery would help. “What about the offensive?”

“Surprisingly, humanity was rather fortunate. Praxcia estimates that the Phobos complex can be fully restored in less than three months. Partial capacity may be available in less than two.”

“Oh? How can we manage that?” I exclaimed. “The destroyed facility had been huge! And nearly all of its volume had been filed with complicated wizardry.”

“When the complex had originally become operational, the underground manufactories continued fabricating spare components against just such an eventuality. Also, the use of shunting wormholes will eliminate a substantial amount of the original physical infrastructure. Finally, we were very lucky in that the power production dynamos were spared.”

Two to three months. That was far sooner than I’d imagined. In fact, it would give the antimatter warhead improvement team more time to perfect the enhanced suspension fields. It also dawned on me that the pause might be costly to the enemy as well. They would likely remain at their highest alert levels, which would consume both finite energy and resources.

Maybe due to the pause they might conclude that whatever had attacked them had exhausted its offensive capability and had given up. Because they did not know about wormhole technology, they would have to assume that the interstellar attacks had been centuries in the making.

“Ohmu, how does the AI advisory council think the Assemblage perceived the second frontal impactor attack attempt?”

“If you are asking if the enemy still considers the frontal impactors as merely random space debris, the odds are very low, at only eight percent. Those odds do increase as time goes on and no further attacks are launched, but only up to twelve percent. It is just too likely that the enemy spotted the maneuvering booster stage.”

So, the enemy now surely thinks they were purposely attacked both from the rear and from the front. I wondered how they took that news. Could an alien AI panic? Well, we knew that subterfuge wouldn’t last long. At least we could now freely use active radar to assist in any future attacks if we wished.

The music from the upper chamber came to a close and Riho soon joined me in the kitchen. She looked at me with a strange expression, almost apprehensive.

“What will you do now, John?” she asked.

“That’s a good question, Xeo’tyle. I suppose I should log into virtual and face the music sooner rather than later. Get the controversy over with quickly and move forward,” I replied.

Ohmu spoke. “John, Naomi reports that sufficient energy reserves are now available to transport you back to the Earth as you wish. It urges ... We urge, you to utilize this transport. Some time on your beach or some other low-population natural area would undoubtedly improve your mental outlook.”

“How could I run away with everything still so unsettled here?” I asked.

“You would still be able to make virtual appearances, John,” Riho said. “No one need know you have relocated to Earth.”

I frowned and shook my head stubbornly. No, I would not run away.

Elon II space station

Thursday, December 21^st, 3116 (Eight days later)

It was a rare quiet and uneventful evening. I was in my apartment relaxing on the sofa after finishing supper. I had almost fallen asleep, Riho’s music lulling me into closing my eyes as I lay there deep in thought. Despite having the evening free, I’d spent much of it mentally rehashing the recent events and discussions which had taken place since the Phobos accident.

I’d remained on Mars for another three days before deciding to make my way back up to orbit and my apartment on the space station. Most of those three days were spent in virtual meetings with various Conscientia action groups. Some of the forums were sponsored by the ‘pro war’ side and had been understanding and supportive while others led by the opposition had been ... far harsher.

Did my presence help? I wasn’t sure, as people could be so stubborn, me included. We would have to judge the results of the public relations damage mitigation effort moving forward. There had been a few positive outcomes from the accident and I had pushed them hard on the forums.

The main benefit being that we’d learned many new details about the enemy’s forward weaponry and shields. We’d also learned from the damage we’d suffered on Phobos. Neo-Truffles and Stellux AIs had jointly developed a rapid circuit breaker energy shunt for the exotic matter compensation coils. The new energy dumps would allow the nearly instantaneous shutdown of the big wormhole if forward-deployed sensors detected objects about to collide with the terminus.

Moving forward, our new standard operating procedure would be that anytime we formed a wormhole with fractional light speed and spatial velocity compensation, we’d use Sarissa to quickly deploy ‘bumper’ sensors ahead which would hopefully warn us in time to prevent another Phobos-like backwash event.

I had refrained from admitting to the outraged public that the AIs had already been working on such a warning system before the Phobos accident. Instead, I let them assume the breakthrough had come about because of the accident. It was a bit of ugly semantics, but at least it bought the war effort, and me personally, breathing room.

Seeing the enemy’s forward energy weapon in action had also brought about a minor breakthrough in our ability to handle antimatter in particle form. Specifically, on how the Assemblage had fired an antimatter particle lance without the charged particles looping around and being drawn back to their ship.

What had been theorized, and quickly proven in the lab, was that the Assemblage neutralized the charge from the antiparticles by ‘grounding’ them, so to speak, into subspace energy storage pockets similar to the ESUs we used as batteries. The enemy was then able to later use the stripped positrons as gamma inducers to power coherent beams of energy. These beams were capable of being modulated to provide interstellar-range communications.

There had also been extensive discussions over the damage we had caused to the Ark’s asteroid-like bow. We’d apparently struck it twice with our impactors, but both times unfortunately missing the enemy’s main energy projector.

Twenty hours after our failed attack, Sarissa was activated for a brief period to poke through its sensor cluster. For safety, the wormhole was kept over sixty thousand kilometers offset of the enemy’s course and the duration of the wormhole was limited to less than twenty seconds.

Still, in that short time, the powerful telescope in the sensor’s head was able to image the two new craters in the nose of the Ark. Both showed signs of heavy construction activity with energy emissions indicating plasma welding. A large spreading halo of debris was also detected around the nose of the Ark.

Just before wormhole closure, the sensor actively scanned the debris cloud with a spectral laser which confirmed our previous readings of iron and nickel. We also detected a large percentage of silicates, enough to fuel speculation that the enemy had sought a heightened electrical resistivity in the metallic makeup of its shielding structures.

Unfortunately, what the sensor did not observe were any burning plasma fires, the venting of important gases, or even better, precious bodily fluids. No, it looked like we damaged just large unimportant masses of fused metal. This reinforced the speculation that the bulbous ends of the Ark were indeed just debris protection as theorized. The focus of any future attacks would be on the central tapering stalk section of the Ark.

Once I’d left the Martian surface, I drastically curtailed my Conscientia appearances. Instead, I spent more time working with Hannah and Alek. In addition to slowly continuing the work to complete Higgins, we also assisted the zero-G autofabs as they produced the more-delicate electronic assemblies for the Phobos repair effort.

While we worked, we also discussed the fledgling raider ship idea. There was less of a sense of urgency for both projects as each depended upon the big wormhole complex being rebuilt and operational.

Also, Uxe was too busy managing the rebuild efforts to partake in our planning sessions. She was also busy with research into the new antimatter technology we’d observed on the Ark. Even the AIs were less responsive lately as their capacity was being taxed handling the swarms of mobile units active on the Martian moon.

Because every one of the Martian orbital fabricators was busy rebuilding Phobos’ infrastructure, we were seriously contemplating starting construction on our raider prototype at the Earth or Lunar orbital shipyards. They had the capacity and we had the time to transship the completed hardware to Mars. Adding to that idea was the fact that Earth and Mars would be in favorable intrasystem shipping alignments for the next three months.

Since we had time, I was reconsidering taking Naomi and Ohmu’s advice and returning to Earth for a short vacation. Riho was pushing for our return as well as she wanted to go back to Earth where far more humans lived who were interested in her species. I suspected that with an easier lifestyle, the Earthbound had more free time than the Martians to devote to learning esoteric pursuits like Hemru history and culture.

Because I had not yet agreed, she’d gone so far as to schedule transport for herself only. Her slot on the overburdened lunar transport network was not for ten days so I still had time to agree to go to Earth with her. If I did, we would utilize Naomi’s private wormhole. I’d been surprised when she’d scheduled herself to go without me, but I was still feeling enough melancholy over Phobos that any upset washed right over me.

Riho’s background music went silent in the middle of her composition. This was odd as she seldom made a mistake drastic enough to cause her to restart. I was about to open my eyes to inquire what was wrong when Ohmu spoke. “John, please wake.”

“I’m awake,” I croaked, sounding as if I were coming awake. Maybe I had drifted off?

The android went on softly. “There has been an accident at the warhead research project. Beatrice RO Ioveanu, along with three others of her team, has been killed.”

“What happened?” I asked after the android paused.

“An antimatter containment field failure occurred. They—”

“What the hell was she doing near antimatter?” I burst out, interrupting the android’s likely explanation. I quickly apologized.

Ohmu continued as if I had not spoken. “No antimatter was present. It was a wormhole failure. A shunting wormhole was being used to project electromagnetic interference into an active stabilization field. The field scrambled one of the shunting wormhole’s controllers, shifting its terminus which was located in Ms. Ioveanu’s laboratory. The moving portal terminus quickly traversed partially through the four humans, killing them instantly.”

Christ! I rubbed my face, coming fully awake. “Did she ... did they, suffer?”

“Death would have been nearly instantaneous,” Ohmu explained.

“When was her last backup?” I asked, not wanting to think about Ohmu’s evading answer.

“I am sorry to report that Ms. Ioveanu’s last mind-data backup occurred more than five months ago,” the android said somberly.

That damned stubborn woman! She was always saying that she was too busy and didn’t need to worry about backups when she was not currently working on anything dangerous.

“Is she being reshelled?” I asked.

“Yes. Fortunately, over a decade ago, Ms. Ioveanu had commissioned the growing of a clone replacement shell. Since reaching adulthood last year, this shell has been waiting in bio-suspension storage at the Aegean biologic fabrication facility. The replacement shell is currently being revived and soon Ms. Ioveanu’s most recent mind recording will be implanted. She will be fully awake and aware in two days.”

Beatrice would be very confused when she awoke in the new shell. She would also likely be very upset when she learned about the lost five months.

“Will she be revived in Greece or returned to Luna before final activation?”

“In Greece. Her last mind-data recording was sent to a data repository near the biologic fabrication facility soon after it was taken.”

“Ohmu, I want transport for our group to Earth as quickly as possible. I’d like to stay on Heels tonight and then take an electro jet to Greece sometime tomorrow before she is awake. Keep my arrival secret.”

“Of course, John,” the android replied. “The first wormhole transference to High Castle space station will be ready in three minutes. It will take twelve minutes between transfers to restore sufficient wormhole energies.”

Riho went to gather the few possessions we preferred to take with us. I trusted her to gather my few items as I was still preoccupied thinking about my dead friend. This war had moved beyond the drawing of first blood for both sides.

Friday, January 12^th, 3117 (Three weeks later.)

North American continent, Earth (John’s acreage.)

The small fluorescent bobber floating in the middle of the sixteen-centimeter diameter hole in the translucent ice plunged quickly below the water’s surface before slowly rising again to the surface. I set aside my jigging rod and watched the bobber closely, ready to grab that rod if a fish took it again. Had the movement been a nibble? Or had the large minnow I was using as bait found a sudden burst of energy?

The bobber twitched again, but this time it was the normal slight motion of the swimming live baitfish. I did notice that the bobber was being pulled toward the side of the hole. Was something down there near the bottom scaring the bait? I watched it like a hawk for a long minute but it stopped twitching, not even a shiver.

I glanced at Ohmu who was kneeling behind me near a third, smaller hole in the ice. The android was operating a small submerged sensor drone. Despite the odds-improving technology, I’d ordered the android to not report fish locations unless I asked. I wanted to retain the element of surprise.

For a moment I debated requesting that the sensor data be relayed to my iris. But no, I’d keep fishing the old-fashioned way, at least for now. Maybe in an hour if I had still not caught anything I’d change my mind. Still, the android’s sensor data could be useful in other ways.

“Ohmu, is my bait still intact?” I asked.

“Yes, John. The bait specimen is fully intact and functional,” Ohmu reported.

I caught her watching me with a smirk as if she expected me to cave into my impulses and ask for more data. My stubbornness was strong enough for me to resist the temptation. I picked up my jigging rod and began to twitch life into the shiny metal lure I left dangling almost four meters below me.

Ohmu quickly stood and moved to the domed ice shack’s sealed flap.

“The ambassador is attempting to make her way out onto the ice. I will go assist her.”

I covered my eyes with my gloved left hand before the android opened the flap and let in the bright outdoor sunlight. I’d not bothered to set my irises to fast-dimming and wanted to preserve my low-light vision to better see into the crystal-clear waters below.

The android exited the shack quickly. The shack’s flap was open for just seconds but I still felt the frigid blast of air come rushing in. I didn’t bother to find my stowed parka as the small battery-powered cube heater glowing next to me would have the temperature back to shirtsleeve comfort soon enough. Outside, I could hear Ohmu snap on a pair of mag skates and shoot off toward the shore.

I was surprised that Riho had changed her mind about joining me on the ice. The alien had been terrified of the thought of frozen water. She also hated the frigid weather and had remained snugly back on shore next to the wood stove in my cottage. Maybe I’d been out here long enough without falling through the ice that she’d decided to risk it.

The bobber in the bait hole began twitching steadily as the minnow below became active again. I focused on my jigging hoping something catchable was entering the area. I’d give it another half hour before resorting to using sensor data to aid my efforts.

Ten minutes later I heard Riho and Ohmu approaching the shack. I smiled as I heard Ohmu talking steadily, reassuring Riho with reports of adequate average ice thicknesses and load-bearing capacities. I even overheard things that I had not been aware of. About the dormant underwater mobile unit that was on standby nearby with breathing gear in case one of us did fall through.

Again, I covered my eyes as the shack’s flap was unsealed.

“John! Are you sure this is safe? Please help me in!” Riho exclaimed from the opening.

This time I did laugh out loud at the sight of the distressed ambassador. Riho was wearing a thick, insulated, pale-white camouflaged snow suit that looked far too much like a big white grub. I wondered if she realized that she now resembled the larval Hemru form. I was spared having to rise from the ice as Ohmu slid in nimbly beside her and assisted the cocooned alien inside the tight flap opening.

“John! The frozen water is cracking!” the panicky alien exclaimed as a long series of pops and booms reverberated across the freezing ice of the lake.

“Relax Ambassador. Everything’s alright,” I said soothingly. I used her professional title as it sometimes fortified her when she was apprehensive about something. “The ice makes noises like that as it freezes and expands. It’s actually getting stronger.”

She looked at me as if wondering whether or not to believe my explanation.

“Seriously! We’re safe. It sounds pretty cool if you ask me,” I reassured.

“I do not understand how you can hear temperatures, John. It sounds like an imminent fracture failure to me.”

Ohmu had resealed the domed flap and the interior was again dark. As Riho’s eyes adjusted, she took in the interior of the darkened ice shack, noting approvingly the warm glowing heating cube. Her mouth opened slightly in wonder as she looked down and noticed the almost-glowing blue-translucent ice we were standing on.

“Ohmu reports that thus far you have been unsuccessful in your fishing endeavor?” she said, gesturing to the holes in the ice.

“It won’t be long,” I stated confidently. “Have a seat.”

I pointed at the one stool we’d brought. I was currently kneeling next to my jigging hole on a small padded mat so I could peer into the hole and watch the depths.

Over the next few minutes, Riho learned about Ice fishing. I explained the bait hole, Ohmu’s scanner, and the reason for my jigging setup. I even convinced her to get close enough to one of the holes to look directly downward.

“Oh! I can see the bottom! What is that white substance?” she asked.

“Small white ceramic flakes. In the old days, I would have used oyster shells. Ice fishermen drop light-colored objects into their holes to make a reflective bottom. It helps visibility so you can see when a dark fish swims near your lure.”

She watched me in silence as I returned to focusing on my jigging for the next few minutes.

“John. Where did the bait bobber go?” Riho asked, bringing me back out of my trance.

I looked over. “SHIT!” I muttered as I dove, just catching the end of the bait rod that was about to be pulled into the hole. I managed to get a good grip on the short rod and gave it a quick jerk. Fish on!

The short, unbreakable, woven-graphene pole bent almost double as I applied maximum pressure. The fish was a big one! Probably a pike. The small reel attached to the pole whined as the drag began slipping out line, not so much to protect the ultra-high-strength braided carbon line, but more so to prevent the sharp hooks from being pulled through the lip of the fish.

“Ohmu, Is the hole big enough?” I asked.

“If you are successful in bringing the specimen to the underside of the ice perforation, it should fit through easily.”

“Is it a pike?” I asked, ignoring my friend’s implied warning to not count my chickens before they hatch.

“Yes, it is a fine example of Esox lucius. Sensor data shows the specimen at ninety-six centimeters long and massing at around five point eight kilograms. I confirm that its girth will easily pass through the current perforation in the ice.”

I continued to fight the fish which felt much larger than six kilos. I was being patient as I really wanted to land it and prove the android had underestimated its size. I looked over and smiled. Riho was watching with rapt attention, almost apprehension. She looked ready to bolt as the screaming drag on the reel only ratcheted up the tension. I almost made a bad joke by telling Ohmu to have the medical gear standing by but wisely decided to spare the already-near-panicked ambassador further turmoil.

I fought the fish for another minute before its limited winter energy reserves were sapped. Once its head was visible in the hole, I carefully reached into the icy water and grabbed its toothy lip with my armor-gloved hand. Ohmu had been right, it did fit up through the ice hole, but barely!

It also seemed to keep coming and coming, momentarily increasing my excitement, but eventually, the tail emerged. I stood with the long pike completely out of the water and saw that it was just under a meter long. Its heft felt around six kilos as well. Ohmu’s scanning had been precise! I turned to present the pike to Riho.

“Oh! It’s one of the lake’s aquatic denizens!”

“What did you expect?” I almost snorted. “You’ve seen me catch fish before, Xeo’tyle. You’ve even seen me catch them from this very lake!”

“Well yes, John,” she replied with a bit of a huff. “But I’ve never seen you catch anything through the ice like this.”

I just laughed and shook my head. That the alien could say something so illogical at times actually reassured me about the future of Human / Hemru relations.

Riho caught my expression and looked chagrined as her brain got control of her emotional reaction. “Well, yes ... I see your point. I may have overreacted.”

I proudly held up the pike a bit higher, using my other arm for additional support as it seemed to be getting heavier fast! While it wasn’t the brace of perch I’d been hoping for, this large pike would provide fare for many meals!

“I am interfacing with the specimen’s implanted tracker and data implant,” Ohmu explained as she stood and carefully began to the hook from the pike’s jaw. “It has the designation ‘JAPPARBz10201.030a .05,02.3099, but you can call her ‘Jappar’.”

“Jappar?” I asked curiously. “She has a name?”

“Yes. The designation refers to John Abrams Prime - Private Aquatic Reserve,” Ohmu explained. “The numbers after refer to the batch number, rearing group, and the date of stocking.”

The android had finally gotten the hook out and then relieved me of its weight by taking the fish carefully by the mouth.

“This line of pike was genetically modified to do well in the waters of your North American acreage reserve. The implant contains eighteen years of active data. You might be interested to know that this specimen is currently the fourteenth largest predator in this body of water, and the lake’s twenty-second oldest resident.”

I frowned. “Um ... thanks, Ohmu.” I looked at the beautiful, long predator with new eyes. This old girl had a name? She was also far older than I’d expected. “Well, now we know why the perch have not been biting.”

“Shall I place it outside to freeze?” Ohmu asked.

“Uh...” I began, hesitating. “No, Ohmu, let’s let this one go. It’s far too big for our supper anyway.”

“Ambassador, please move closer to John,” Ohmu directed. Riho did so curiously, although she kept my body between herself and the two larger ice holes. I reached around her insulated snow suit and hugged her close.

The android then deployed a tiny floating ball cam and moved to my other side, holding the pike in front of us. The hovering object began flashing and there was an audible click as it imaged the group.

After the picture taking was finished, we backed away from the larger hole as Ohmu carefully eased the long, heavy pike back into the water. The android then knelt and, still retaining her hold on the fish, stuck her arm fully in the water. She then gently maneuvered the exhausted fish back and forth, causing oxygenated water to pass over its gills in an attempt to revive it. After continuing this for nearly a half minute, the android released the pike and stood.

“The scanners are tracking the pike as it swims away. It should fully recover.”

I sighed with relief. What a big softy I was becoming! But, like I’d said, the pike would have been too much for supper. I sensed that Riho had been pleased with my decision as well. While the alien ate meat, I knew that she preferred it to be artificially produced whenever possible.

“Hopefully that pike keeps swimming out of the area and a school of walleye or perch move in to take its place.”

“Do you want me to locate suitable schools using an underwater drone?” Ohmu asked.

“No,” I replied. “I’m fishing today, not underwater hunting.”

I’d used more technological methods before and, while I had to admit they were pretty exciting, today I was in the mood for something more traditional. Maybe it was Riho’s presence?

“Do, you want to try ice fishing?” I asked the alien.

Riho leaned slightly forward studying the placid hole in the ice. After a moment she shuddered and shook her head firmly no.

“No thank you, John. After watching you land that fish, I feel I now have a firm understanding of your endeavors today. I think I will leave you to your pursuits if that is okay. Ohmu, will you assist me in returning to the cottage?”

“That’s fine, Riho. I’m happy that you braved the ice to come see as you did. Thank you.”

“I also wanted to let you know that I have been in contact with Beatrice.”

I frowned at being reminded of the scientist. The main reason I’d gone fishing today was to get Beatrice’s recent tirade out of my mind. She’d not taken her death and new shell as well as I’d hoped and this morning there had been a confrontation. I think part of it was being in a new, young shell filled with too many long-forgotten hormones.

“She admitted that she may have been too hard on you. She realizes that her death and loss of memory had not been your fault and that you did not owe her physical companionship at this time. She wanted to apologize for trying to force herself on you.”

“If you talk to her again, tell her that everything is fine,” I replied calmly.

It was not fine. If Beatrice wanted to apologize, then she damn well could have contacted me and done so to me directly. I think Riho caught that I was still upset as she dropped the subject and departed with Ohmu. I stepped outside with them to cool off. Ohmu had brought the sled and was pulling the alien quickly across the ice and back to shore.