I shook my head no.
“Then let me simplify,” said Nari. “Imagine the galaxy is a standard map, with Earth in the center. The Swarm is sweeping in from the east like a raging, unquenchable forest fire, consuming everything in its path. And it turns out that humanity is the easternmost intelligence in the galaxy, other than the Swarm.”
“So it will hit us first,” I said.
Nari nodded.
“Well, isn’t that lucky for your Federation,” said Tessa. “The only species with a chance to stop them just happens to be out in front, guarding the rest.”
“The current members of the Federation are quite lucky, yes,” agreed Nari. “Using our map metaphor, our home star systems are all to your west. Some of us believe this is just a happy coincidence. Others are convinced that luck has nothing to do with it. That there is a higher power looking out for us all, or that the universe itself is sentient.”
I would have loved to explore this further, but there were more important things going on. A number of scientists thought the universe could be conscious, and I had even read a paper that had investigated similarities between the human brain, with its hundred billion neurons, and the cosmos, with its hundred billion or more galaxies.
Ignoring the vast difference in scale, the authors had found the structures were remarkably similar. Neurons and galaxies were both assembled together in a complex web, spread out in long filaments and nodes that linked them up. Additional analysis revealed that the distribution of the neuronal network in the brain and the distribution of matter in the cosmic web were eerily similar.
“What do you mean by the current members of the Federation?” asked the colonel. “I’ve never heard you use that phrase. Are you implying there used to be others?”
The alien AI somehow made the Nari hologram look nauseated. “Yes,” he whispered in horror. “Two others. Both five to six thousand light years to the east. They were the first to encounter the Swarm.”
I winced. “I take it that it didn’t go well.”
“The Swarm destroyed their home systems and wiped them out, down to the last man, woman, and child. Along with all the Federation representatives living there. Most of the intel we have on the Swarm came from these encounters. As far as we know there is no defense against them. Small populations of these two races still exist in the home systems of all Federation members, but they are dwindling, and the loss of their home planets and the vast majority of their populations has only hastened this decline.”
“So there are really twenty—three asteroids orbiting each home system,” I said. “Not twenty-one. And we’re only the easternmost intelligence in the Federation now. After two others have already fallen.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Which still makes us the tip of the spear,” said Brad.
“A bad metaphor, I think,” replied Nari. “More like the first crops in line to be picked clean by locusts.”
I swallowed hard. “When do you expect them to arrive here?”
“They aren’t in any hurry. I’d say three to four thousand years.”
“Does that mean they haven’t conquered FTL travel?” I asked.
“No need. Given they’re a super-wolf species whose tech in many ways surpasses our own, we believe they could manage it if they really cared to. But like the locusts I’ve been mentioning, the Swarm stays together as an unstoppable mass, at least on a galactic scale. They’re relatively slow and steady, picking clean everything they pass.”
“It’s good that they’re moving so slowly,” said Tessa. “Three thousand years is a long time to prepare for an invasion.”
“But not nearly long enough,” said Nari sullenly.
“It’s worse than that,” I said. “I’ve previously put considerable thought into how one might defend a planet from an approaching armada. The conclusion I’ve come to is that it’s impossible. A planet is the ultimate sitting duck, regardless of defenses. So we’ll need to engage them long before they reach us, as far away from Earth as possible. Slow down their approach. Buy ourselves as much time as possible for continuing preparations in our home system, to tip the scales in our favor. If we don’t take them out before they get here, it’s game over.”
“I agree completely,” said Brad.
Nari nodded. “Our AI tells us the same thing. The difference is that we needed an AI to explain why defending a planet from an armada is ultimately impossible. But Jason figured this out easily, without any military training. Yet another reason humanity is our only hope. A sheep, and even a sheep’s AI, can’t possibly strategize like a wolf. Or fight like one.”
“Given that we do excel at war,” said Tessa, “and given thousands of years to advance technology and stockpile weapons—even given Jason’s abbreviated schedule—why do you still think this isn’t enough time?”
“I’m not sure that any amount of time is enough,” said Nari. “I can have the AI go through the record with you at a later date so you can see what the Swarm is capable of, and how they operate. The AI has shared severely watered-down versions of their campaigns with us. Even these are atrocious enough to make the human race seem about as dangerous as a litter of kittens. They’re ruthless, fearless, and predatory in the extreme. They have an insatiable appetite for expansion. And they’ll stop at nothing to achieve their objectives.”
The alien paused. “I’ve been using locusts as a metaphor,” he continued. “But army ants are a better one. Army ants are on the march throughout a colony’s entire existence, killing everything they encounter. Everything. To not kill would be an impossible concept to them.
“Like your army ants, the Swarm is entirely nomadic. They can stay in one place temporarily, but never permanently. They’re genetically driven to press ever forward to find new prey, after destroying all life where they live. Intelligent life or non-intelligent, it’s all the same to the Swarm.”