Chapter 28: Eulogia

The next two weeks passed rapidly. Fortunately, it only took a bit more than a day for confirmation that there had been no accidental transcendent breech on Vesta, either at the habitat or at the Sarissa wormhole installation. Both were opened with normal communications restored which allowed for the wormhole return of the evacuated personnel.

At Sarissa, the suspect components which Probe Ohno had removed were slagged and replacements installed. Sarissa became fully operational soon after and joined Phobos which was busy sending scouting probes to the area of the destroyed Ark.

Only three days after the Ark’s destruction, and as much as I dreaded missing anything of consequence, I had myself poked back to High Castle in Earth orbit. There, I would be spending a day in Naomi’s medical crèche having a new thumb grafted on. Naomi simply stated that the replacement parts came from ‘reserves. Despite my curiosity, ‘reserves’ sounded just horrifying enough that I did not dare inquire. Still, I couldn’t help but imagine a lab full of vats containing fully-grown, and partially-harvested, clones of my current shell. Ugh!

When I arrived and before I was stuck into the crèche, I did get to visit briefly with Uxe and Rami. Our daughter had already left High Castle, having fled back to Antarctica as her mother recovered enough and became even more cantankerous to be around than normal. I would have to send Kela a thank you for standing in for me here while I’d remained on Mars.

Uxe and Rami had met me at the wormhole arrival and departure sphere. Rami was carrying a small satchel and I inferred they were soon to depart. When I pulled myself over to where Uxe was waiting, she first grabbed my head giving me a quick congratulatory kiss in greeting. She next slugged me hard in the shoulder for not priming Acid Rain much earlier in the process. Apparently, only an idiot would have waited until the absolute last seconds as I had.

“Serves you right for losing your damned thumb!” she’d exclaimed, after a second, thankfully weaker punch. “I’m glad your injury was not serious,” she whispered as she hugged me to her a second time. This time, lingering much longer. I felt her relief.

“Lesson learned!” I replied simply.

Rami just shook his head watching our byplay, a slight smile and a curious sympathetic look on his face after I’d received my ‘message’.

“I see you are all packed to go. Are you recovered enough to be getting back to work?” I asked her once we’d released each other.

She exchanged a look with Rami. This time her partner did not look happy at all.

“She has chosen to undergo a brain transplant down on Earth before returning to Pallas,” he explained with an almost haunted look.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds!” Uxe said quickly, almost defensively, upon seeing my reaction.

“There is an experimental clone being grown down in Old Ankara which is based on the same template as my current shell,” she explained. “The clone still has half a decade before reaching full maturity but its brain is far enough along and so heavily augmented that it will be adequate.”

Seeing my doubtful look remained, she continued, “The cloned brain is compatible with my shell. All we need to do is swap brains. The clone gets my damaged one, which can be repaired slowly at the cellular level using nanobots. I get the new one and its advanced augments. The augmentation will compensate for the brain’s lack of maturity, and it will allow even more added capacity in the future. If I swap, I can be back on Pallas and productive in less than a week!”

I kept my true reaction internal. “Naomi, explain please?” I subvocalized.

—The procedure is relatively safe.— Naomi answered via implant. —It is the most expeditious method for Uxe to return to a mentally-boosted state. The downside is that she will be mostly paralyzed for five weeks until the shell’s nerve pathways can be properly regrown. The added augments would be busy maintaining more-important body functions like breathing and blood circulation than simple physical movement. The low gravity on Pallas will actually be of benefit in this regard.—

“Relatively safe?”

—The chances of transplantation failure are less than fifteen percent. If failure does occur, her mind-data will have to be digitally stored until it can be re-sleeved into a compatible new shell. Since such a shell is currently unavailable, the storage period may exceed a decade while one is accelerated to maturity.—

“She is willing to risk a transplant failure and be stored away, out of action for over a decade?” I asked, still subvocally. Uxe was watching me curiously, likely having deduced that I was discussing her situation with Naomi.

—Her mind-data would be stored in an active state, in a new ‘research wing’ created for her in the SRP. Since her mental faculties would be simulated, there would be a possible temporary degradation in her intuition, but still, in that environment, she should be able to assist in the faster-than-light research ongoing in reality.—

I’d never considered that option. I’d known it was possible as we’d had the Amor Fati children living only in virtual until they reached maturity. Uxe had obviously considered the risks and still chosen to proceed. Who was I to deny her?

“I wish you a speedy recovery, Honey,” I said simply, capitulating early, and amusingly, surprising the hell out of her in the process. Even Rami blinked and looked perplexed at my easy acceptance of her risky, unorthodox choice.

“You will probably still be down on Earth after I am done getting my hand repaired?”

“Yes. I will be in surgery and recovery for a few days and then we will poke ourselves directly back to Pallas,” she replied, before adding hesitantly. “We could wait for you here until you are done...”

I could tell she was not enthusiastic about staying up here to watch me cook in a vat for almost a day.

“No, I’ll be fine. Ohmu will be along any minute now and will play nurse. We’ll catch up again soon when you are re-brained and back in your right mind ... or, wrong mind, as will be the case.”

The comment earned me groans from both of them.

A day later, and now in the possession of a full complement of opposable digits, I returned to Mars. This time, I arrived down on the surface inside the PMC’s domed ceremonial palace on top of Olympus Mons. The Popular Martian Congress officially maintained the gaudy palace mainly as a symbol for the planet and for the organization. But, from how it was equipped and the way the attendees were imbibing, I suspected it was used mostly as a private retreat for the party officials. Why was I arriving here? Well, I was about to be knighted!

Her royal highness, Princess Dejah Neothoris did the honors, in front of a throng of over a few dozen higher-ranking Congress members. Despite the still-rising controversy over my recent actions, Princess Dejah was choosing to enter the political fray and take sides by honoring me publicly. I was not quite sure if it would help but I was also sure it couldn’t hurt so I played along.

“Rise, Sir John, Honorary Knight Commander of the Red Guard,” she said.

Her consort, my grandson Ben, was standing behind her trying to conceal his grin. He knew what I really thought of this sort of pomp. The audible applause of the attending humans was joined by the virtual masses who were watching remotely. According to the watch numbers, the event had an audience of half a million. About four hundred, ninety-nine thousand more than I’d expected.

Oh well, at least the title was honorary. That meant I could get away with shirking any future PMC duties required of an official Knight Commander. Those were mainly public appearances and periodic classroom lectures. I rose and let my admirers pull me to the open bar so the enjoyable part of the function could begin.

Four days later I was back on Phobos, waiting near the entry to the airlock leading to the big wormhole mechanism crater. Hannah Crather was with me. She was wearing her combat pressure suit with the helmet visor up. I was holding back a smile at her cross expression.

Are you sure you still don’t want to come?” Hannah asked, for the third time. “You can wear one of the spare suits from storage?”

“Yes. I’m sure I want to remain on this side of the wormhole,” I replied. “Besides, Riho will be occupying my seat on Higgins.”

“You could ride in the fourth seat pod. Ohmu could stay outside strapped to the hull.”

I just shook my head and pointed for her to go. Hannah sighed and let the airlock door close in between us. I watched as she pulled herself through the airlock and down the short tunnel connecting it to Higgins. The assault boat’s hatch shut behind her, sealing her inside with Alek, Riho, and Ohmu who had already boarded.

This would be the first time Higgins was used on an actual mission but it had had many local test flights so the craft was mostly proven. The airlock tube retracted and I turned to begin my journey back to the inhabited side of Phobos. I was the only human remaining near the wormhole generator so I had the tube shuttle all to myself for the return trip through the tunnel connecting the wormhole facility to the command and control area on the opposite side of the moonlet.

As I rode the shuttle, I tried to dismiss the worry I felt for my son and friends. This would be the first human deployment through the wormhole to the Ark. Their destination was Far-Lobe, our new name for the former nickel-iron spheroid aft end of the enemy Ark. After the Ark had been blasted to pieces, both Near-Lobe and Far-Lobe had survived mostly intact.

Despite the mission being the first for humans, we’d spent much of the last week sending probes, mobile units, and space-capable automated war fighters to both Near-Lobe and Far-Lobe. They had scoured both objects, hunting for any still-active enemy units.

Nothing active had been detected on Far-Lobe, but early on, the probes had detected a strong source of emissions from a deeply dug-in facility on Near-Lobe. That anything survived the antimatter explosion was not completely unexpected as each lobe provided over seven hundred meters of nickel-iron shielding from the gamma flux. Whatever had survived on Near-Lobe had also been buried deep under the former forward-facing interstellar-ranged particle cannon.

That facility had since ceased all emissions because we had targeted it with multiple missile salvos soon after detection. No attempt had been made to stop our incoming missiles and each had scored deeply into Near-Lobe. Precise targeting and repetition accomplishing what the earlier eight-hundred-times-larger Acid Rain generated explosion had failed to do.

Now there was only silence from the Assemblage. Nothing from both lobes, but also no emanations from surrounding space, including ahead of the former Ark, where the debris shielding herding units dwelled, and trailing it, where the mines and sensors had been placed. All that had been active had been intercepted, destroyed, or co-opted into becoming ours by employing our advanced override algorithms.

Three hours later I was still monitoring the ongoing Higgins deployment from the safety of the control room. It reminded me of watching deep sea divers performing a televised dive inside the sunken remains of a ship. Alek, Hannah, and Riho, in their combat pressure suits, followed a squad of combat mobile units which had arrived earlier by carrier boat.

The environment inside the Far-Lobe tunnels we were mapping was dark, near-weightless, and hard vacuum. As a result, maintaining orientation was difficult. Also, the Far-Lobe tunnels looked to have never been occupied by living beings. First of all, there were no airlocks. Secondly, the maze of tunnels only contained automated factories and now almost-empty resource storage bays.

There were also multiple processor clusters and data storage banks, all looking eerily similar to ours. None were active and most even looked damaged almost as if they had overloaded. Still, the team kept well away from the enemy data centers, seeking to avoid anything left behind by our transcendent destroyer.

At the four-hour mark, the team began returning to the surface. As they closed in on their entry point they did one final task, which was forming a secure area of tunnels just deep enough into the lobe for protection from cosmic radiation or interstellar debris impact. Why? Well, we planned to occupy Far-Lobe. Plans were drawn up to build a base and laboratory there.

Jonathon and Beatrice had stepped up and volunteered to head the facility. Jonathon was going, as he and Rosie would be coordinating the search-and-destroy efforts against any lingering enemy presences. He had the experience after all from doing the same in Sol system. Beatrice would be heading the research and xenology aspect of the facility, digging through what was left of the Assemblage.

They’d already named their new base, Carnage Station. Once they finished the basics, like heat and air, maybe I’d consider poking myself there to check it out. Well, maybe also only after they expanded the electromagnetic cleared zone to cover the whole Lobe so one did not have to worry about having your implants burned out of your head.

The new artificial intelligence would also reside on the base, tasked with coordinating the xenoarcheology efforts likely to be ongoing for decades. Already, hundreds of humans were signing up to be stationed there to study enemy remains. But, before they could go, a lot of work was needed simply to make the place safe.

For one, because of the explosion, the Lobe was now rotating. This rotation would have to be stopped. And, after stopping the rotation, the site of the station had to be on the aft end of the lobes vector of travel. Otherwise, Carnage station’s docking ports would be vulnerable to impact from incoming debris.

Also, a local wormhole facility had to be constructed as the area of study was spreading out by the second. Even the two massive lobes were moving apart at nearly 100,000 kilometers a day, too far for easy travel in shuttle pods. Some of the debris from the former Ark’s central portion was moving away even faster, although due to its proximity to the original explosion, whether or not anything usable could be recovered from such debris remained to be seen.

Another month passed. Alek and Hannah had gone out on Higgins twice more but it had been over two weeks since their last venture. I suspected the lack of any remaining active enemy units had placated their bloodlust somewhat. A few days ago, I met with them both as they wanted my input on some new plan.

“Dad, I want to lead the offensive against the Assemblage colony on Luyten’s Star.”

I was quiet as I considered his statement. I had flashbacks to nearly thirty years ago when I had said goodbye to Alek when he’d left on Vexatis. I’d watched as his cyborg shell had been frozen in bio-suspension and then launched towards Alpha Centauri. Then, my failure a few years after when I’d had his mind-data copy re-shelled here on Earth against his wishes. We’d gotten over that, mostly, and I knew I’d not make the same mistake again. And maybe this time it would be easier.

“Via wormhole?” I finally replied.

“Yes. We would first establish a beachhead on Procyon and scan that entire system for any Assemblage units which may have already arrived from nearby Luyten’s Star. If they had already arrived, we would engage them and drive them from the system. If not, we would build our own colony and defend it with a local version of the Argus Array and the DEW line, watching for their arrival.”

“We?” I asked, looking toward Hannah.

She nodded. “I want to go with Alek. Procyon will become a human colony as soon as we can protect it from the assemblage, so we might as well get started with both.”

“I assume that once you build the foothold at Procyon, you will then move on and attack Luyten’s Star?”

“Yes. Picket confirmed that the Assemblage colonized that fourth planet there. We will deal with their colony and anything they’ve built in that solar system. After that, we’ll see.”

I raised my eyes. I’d not been closely following the Conscientia groups that were planning such adventures. I’d known they had been calling their plan the ‘Great Cleansing.’ It began to sink in what exactly that meant. I had flashbacks of our early wars for which the term had been stated as goals.

He’d caught my expression, understanding the thoughts going through my mind. “No, not eradication. Our hope is to force them to accept containment in the short term with possible integration in the longer.”

I just nodded. Hannah’s lips were pursed. I wondered if she was remembering the same thing I now was. Mainly, the horrible situation natives in our old country had once lived under back in old Earth when they’d been ‘contained’ on reservations. ‘Cleansed’ or ‘Contained’, both had too many evil connotations.

“Are you sure you really want to put yourself through that again?” I asked my son.

“Well, for me, this would be the first time I get to utilize what I trained for,” he replied. “I’m not the version that is still on its way to Alpha Centauri, Father.”

I just nodded. What he was asking for, what he craved, was fulfillment. From his point of view, I’d stolen that from this version of him which I’d awakened three decades ago. And now, with our unexpectedly fast victory over the Assemblage Ark, his moment of glory had again been denied. Of course, he would want to go do what he felt he was meant to do.

And, I had to admit, someone needed to step up and see this through. Did I want to become the warlord for humanity? Hell no! Not if I had the choice.

First Procyon and Luyten’s Star, then on to the next colony, repeating from world to world, back to wherever the damn Assemblage originated from. Maybe we’d run into allies as we passed the Hemru home world? Maybe they were already waging interstellar war with Assemblage colonies much nearer their home and would ease our burden.

“How soon?” I asked.

“Sovnya is due to come online in a week,” he replied with a grin. “What better way to test its ability to accurately target wormholes at extreme range than by sending scouts to Procyon?”

What better way indeed? Sovnya had been built on Luna as a backup to Sarissa. We’d not only met that goal but had surpassed it. By utilizing the latest state-of-the-art in Wormhole technology, we’d boosted its capacity to twelve light years, just far enough to reach Procyon.

“And,” he continued. “With the upgrades to Phobos scheduled to be complete in a month, we’ll be able to follow up Sovnya’s smaller scouts with sizable hardware and supplies. We will possess a decent lay-of-the-land regarding any enemy forces and will be able to deploy our asteroid mining units and prefab manufactories where they will remain safe. Within a half years’ time, we’ll have the first habitats built and a decent start on a military-industrial complex.”

I looked at Hannah. “And you’re willing to go off and be a warrior queen? It might be some time before it’s safe enough to establish any colony you’d want to have babies in?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, full of pride.

She also looked at Alek with the same pride, not quite love, but a very deep friendship. I knew with what Hannah had lived through, this road would not be too tough for her.

“And besides, it’s not like the old days when we had to endure a yearlong sea voyage to start a new colony,” She added. “With the wormholes, we can come back for R & R occasionally.”

“AIs?” I asked.

“Praxcia and Minervus, of course,” Alek replied. “Well, copies of them. We’ll have to come up with new names, I guess.”

—The new AIs are already active and have chosen the names Ares and Athena for themselves.— Naomi supplied via my implant.

“I take it you and the other AIs are on board with this plan to backtrack our way up the AAV, cleansing as we go?” I asked the AI subvocally.

—It is the only logical option. If this does not happen, the Assemblage colonies will eventually discover what has happened to the Ark and coordinate a retribution effort, if only to preemptively defend themselves from what Alek has just explained.—

“So, we have to attack them before they attack us because we might attack them. That sounds very paradoxical.

I’d said the last out loud causing Alek and Hannah to look at me with puzzled expressions.

“Never mind, odd thoughts. I am proud of you Alek for once again stepping up and standing post like this. If you need my assistance, even if just to push something through the public discourse which is sure to be long and frustrating, just ask.”