The Dead Sun(Star Force Series #9)

-23-



When we finally got to the Thor System, everyone on the bridge was tired of Hoon and worried about what his reaction would be when he saw exactly what we’d done to one of his lifeless water-moons.

“I’m not overly concerned,” I told Newcome.

“But sir, this is a serious diplomatic situation. There aren’t too many technologically advanced biotic species on our list of allies—in fact, the only ones that come to mind are the Worms and the Crustaceans.”

“You discount our best allies, then,” I said. “We’ve got the Centaurs firmly in our camp. We once popped one of their habitats and killed millions of them. Now, we’ve given them back three worlds in this system, and they’re repopulating rapidly. They love us.”

Newcome made a face. I was starting to recognize his expressions, and this one either indicated he smelled something foul or he found my arguments simplistic. I figured it was the latter in this case.

“Colonel,” he began, “I do discount the other races. The Centaurs are a fine folk, but they’ll never be able to build their own fleet of ships. If they hadn’t been given technology by the Nanos, they’d still be galloping around on their prairies, chewing grass.”

“I don’t appreciate that kind of interspecies bigotry in Star Force, Newcome.”

“It’s not bigotry! We have to be realistic about what our allies can and can’t do. You yourself said that you should never have given Captain Grass a command of his own.”

I had to admit he had me there. “What about the other biotic species? The one that’s more technologically advanced than any of us?

“The Blues, sir? They count all right—but as enemies, in my book, not allies. I don’t think they forgive easily, and they aren’t going to help us beat the Macros, no matter what they promise.”

“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully. “All right, I’ll concede to your points even though I don’t like to hear them. What do you think we should do with the Crustaceans?”

“Try to keep them on our allied list. We can’t afford not to. Of all the species we’ve met, I’d say they’re the most like us technologically and culturally.”

I stared at him for a second. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Who else would you put in that category?”

“The Worms, of course. I like those crazy bastards. They like a good fight, build sensible ships and just look at their history—no one else has gone undefeated by the machines the way they have.”

Newcome mulled that over. “But they’re so strange. They’re invertebrates with a bizarre language. Keep in mind that they really prefer to communicate with three-dimensional statues rather than simple pictographs.”

“That is all the more evidence of their intellect.”

“They threw out your last delegation after killing most of them.”

I shrugged. “We screwed up. Listen, I’m not going to tell you that the Worms are easy to deal with. They’re hotheaded and downright mean. But we’re in a fight to the finish and there’s no one I’d rather have in the foxholes with my troops than the Worms.”

“They’re barbaric, even savage at times.”

“Exactly,” I said. “When the chips are down, they get serious, just the way we do. I don’t think the Worms love us, but they respect us and understand us. And I feel I understand them.”


“Uh, he’s here, sir,” Newcome said, lowering his voice.

I turned and saw Hoon crawl onto the deck. His survival suit might have had a small leak as he seemed to be trailing water, and the bridge suddenly smelled like high tide.

“Professor,” I said, nodding to him. “Welcome to my command center.”

“It’s quite small,” he said, swinging his eyestalks this way and that. “This cannot be your fleet headquarters. Am I correct in assuming you haven’t recovered from your last disastrous campaign?”

I frowned. This was a typical bit of attitude from the Crustaceans. They tended to insult you constantly in backhanded ways. They might ask if your personal stench was a little sharper than usual, or helpfully suggest that you should look for your brain in your other suit.

“Let me show you around,” I said, gritting my teeth as I forced a smile.

He followed as I showed him the holotank, the command table, and the side centers. We had several of them, including a crew of seven who ran the ship while we were in battle. The fleet navigational center was one of our proudest achievements. We had excellent minds there, and they were always able to come up with a fast, accurate estimate concerning the feasibility of any scenario I asked them to study.

These last people seemed to interest Hoon the most.

“Scholars then, I presume?”

“Yes,” I said. “There’s no one at this table who doesn’t have at least a doctoral degree in science or engineering.”

Hoon scuttled up and examined them. They tried not to retreat, but it was difficult.

“All humans? Tell me, how many years of study does it take to become a professor on your world?”

“It varies,” answered one of our engineering chiefs. “To achieve our highest level of education it generally takes nine to ten years.”

Hoon made an odd sound. A polyp on the side of his suit opened and spat a thin stream of liquid. The spraying substance was thicker than normal seawater and it stank like brine.

“Absurd!” he said. “Our lowest-ranked professors are required to study for at least seventy-seven of your standard years before they’re allowed to attempt their final exams. At that point, they usually fail to impress their peers and are kicked out of the institution.”

My nerds looked at one another, impressed despite themselves. I was annoyed.

“Humans learn fast,” I said.

Hoon wheeled on me. “Ah, I see the inference. We’re therefore weak, defeated vermin, with shells only worthy of being crushed.”

“I didn’t say that. We gave you a planet to live on. Rebuild your civilization.”

“We are rebuilding, but we require more territory.”

I shrugged and crossed my arms. “The oceans on Eden-6 are vast. They should hold your species for centuries.”

“There are many problems. Too many areas are off-limits for our colonies due to the microbial infestations. There are Star Force bases, as well, on the best of the islands.”

I was frowning by this time. Sure, there were two intelligent species on one world, the Microbes and the Crustaceans, but I knew they couldn’t be in conflict yet. Hoon’s kind just weren’t numerous enough. But that wasn’t his real problem. He wanted to make a land grab—or rather, a sea grab. He wanted to kick the Microbes from their ancestral seabeds before he even needed them.

“The Microbes aren’t an infestation,” I told him. “It’s your species that has been imposed upon them. Look at them as hosts, and be glad they’re willing to put up with you.”

Hoon’s eyestalks bobbled.

“Perhaps I spoke in haste,” he said. “Let me make a formal request: Award us the entirety of the world we now dwell upon, and you can destroy our old homeworlds if it pleases you.”

I shook my head. “I can’t do that. Where would the Microbes go?”

Hoon’s attitude shifted once again. He wasn’t the best ambassador in my opinion. He was much too arrogant and had a bad temper.

“We’ll not be put on a reservation forever!” he said. “Humanity has already stolen two worlds and retained a foothold on ours. The superior species deserves the greatest share of any habitat.”

“Superior species?” I asked, angry again. I decided to hit him where it hurt. “Just how many graduates did you manage to pass this last season, Hoon?”

He worked his clacking legs and rotated his body to face mine.

“You know very well our universities have all been lost!” the translator shouted.

“Oh right, of course! A painful memory, no doubt. Sorry I brought it up.”

Newcome stepped to my elbow and cleared his throat.

I glanced at him.

“Colonel? Perhaps you’d like me to continue guiding our honorable guest on this tour?”

I mumbled something unintelligible about snooty crabs and waved Newcome forward. The Admiral made a big show of saluting Hoon, then led him around to show him various pieces of equipment. Newcome listened attentively and mouthed diplomatic platitudes every minute or so. The strange thing was, it seemed to be working. Hoon was calming down.

Jasmine sidled up to me, and we watched the two of them.

“He’s pulling it off,” she said. “I’ve never seen a Crustacean so happy.”

“Yeah,” I said. “They should give Newcome an honorary degree in kissing ass.”

“That was very rude what you said—about their university. That must hurt him deeply. He may be irritating, but his people have suffered so much.”

I scratched my neck and sighed. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m not well-suited to blowing sunshine around. If you want that, you need to find another guy.”

“Well, apparently Hoon’s found his man.”

Newcome laughed, and even though Hoon didn’t reciprocate, I could tell he was excited to have someone who understood his alien jokes and at least pretended to enjoy them.

At the end of the tour, they came back to us. Hoon’s mood had improved. He studied the data displayed on the map with difficulty. He had to rear up and put his claws on the table so that his eyestalks could see the screen.

“Are those our planets—over there?” he asked suddenly.

“Yes, Professor,” Jasmine said.

I winced, suspecting what was coming next.

“Could you bring them into tight focus? I’m having trouble manipulating this image with my foreclaws.”

“We’re kind of in the middle of something, Hoon,” I said.

Hoon’s eyestalks regarded me. I had no idea if he was glaring or just curious.

“I can do it,” Jasmine said helpfully.

My eyes squeezed almost shut as she made spreading motions, bringing the images into sharp relief.

There they were, three moons circling a gas giant. Two of them were blue with liquid water while the third was shrouded in deep clouds.

“Odd. One is still overheated?”

“Something like that,” I said. “Now, if you will please—”

“Ah,” Hoon said. “I’ve found the focus button.”

The scene zoomed sickeningly. Hoon’s claws couldn’t seem to make multiple contacts easily, but he was able to touch a single active point and effectively select an option or push a virtual button.

The moon we called Harvard swam into view in close-up. The atmosphere filled the screen.

“Can we remove the cloud layer?”

Jasmine had finally figured out what he was looking for. She looked at me with a worried expression.


I nodded to her. We’d gone this far. He might as well see what we’d done.

She tapped a control, and the system graphically bypassed the cloud layer.

Huge furrows, miles across, were revealed. These furrows ran from pole to pole and were filled with muddy, bubbling liquids. Marvin had really ripped into Harvard. He’d chosen this world over the others due to its relatively greater percentage of land masses. The seas didn’t cover this moon as they did the others.

Hoon’s eyestalks swept over the scene. He didn’t say anything for several long seconds.

“Such a grand crime,” Hoon said at last. “I had not fathomed it fully until now.”

I felt a pang, a real, honest moment of sympathy for Hoon. Sure, he was an arrogant bastard who wore a shell and had strange, bluish blood, but he was hurting. I knew that if Earth had looked like that, I’d be crushed as well.

“We didn’t do it for nothing, Hoon,” I said. “We’re here for the final push to take out the Macros once and for all. All living species will benefit. We’ll have peace once this mission is over.”

His eyestalks drifted up to see me. “I understand that the Macros have the same idea. Two beasts now charge at one another, but I don’t know who I would rather see succeed. Perhaps you will both gut one another and be left dying.”

“You forget yourself,” I said. “We count your people as allies now.”

“Yes,” Hoon said, “allies of convenience—but let’s not equivocate. You’re my conqueror, and that reality is my greatest humiliation. I request permission to retire to my quarters, my simplistic overlord. My suit is a burden, and I don’t wish to remove it here. I would be forced to taste your foulness with my exposed membranes.”

“Yeah, good. I don’t want to smell you anymore, either. You have permission to get off my bridge.”

When he’d humped away, Newcome heaved a big sigh. “I thought I had him in a better mood. Sorry, sir.”

“Not your fault,” I said. “You didn’t tear up his dead world.”

When Newcome went back to his team, Jasmine came close to me.

“You could have been a little more compassionate,” she said. “Hoon is bitter about his losses. Anyone would be.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “If Earth looked like that, I’d be complaining, too. But something about him irritates the hell out of me. He wanted me to give him an entire planet. Can you believe that?”

“There’s something else,” she said. “Marvin’s been trying to reach you. He keeps talking about testing a dead man—something like that.”

I frowned at her for a moment then rushed for the main passageway. We had a null gravity field active in the passage to make freight easier to transport, and I had to use the handles lining the walls. I propelled myself down the spine of the ship, hand over hand.

“Marvin?” I shouted into my com-link when he finally responded to my channel requests. “Don’t do anything until I get down to the lab.”

“Do anything?” Marvin said. “I’ve been working steadily to achieve my command-approved goals. These new instructions are nonsensical.”

“You know what I mean. Don’t launch anything until I get there. I want to see what you’re planning.”

“Oh, are you referencing the test? The bomb is already underway. I wouldn’t worry about it, Colonel. Although it is fully functional, the test device is quite small in size compared to the one—”

“Where did you send it, Marvin? Where’s the bomb headed?”

“Fortunately, we’re passing near an appropriate testing site now. Harvard is quite close and as the world has already been devastated by—”

“No, no, no! Don’t bomb Harvard! Don’t you have any compassion? We have Professor Hoon aboard.”

“Compassion? Is Hoon visiting Harvard? I’m not quite sure I understand—”

“Just turn off the test. I want it stopped now!”

“But Colonel—”

“No arguments. Just send the kill signal this instant.”

“Done.”

I sighed in relief, and soon after I reached Marvin’s lab module. I touched the membrane of nanites and stepped inside as they retreated away. Marvin loomed on the ceiling again, and he seemed quite cheery.

“Can we retrieve your test bomb?” I asked him.

“Certainly not. The conversion of mass to energy is nearly one hundred percent when a gravity device detonates. I thought I’d made that point clear when—”

“Marvin,” I said, stalking forward. “Are you saying the bomb already went off?”

“Detonation occurred an estimated forty seconds ago.”

“What about the kill-signal? Didn’t you send it?”

“Of course.”

I stared at him for a second before I realized what he meant.

“You sent the signal, but it was too late. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes. We are now about a light-minute from the target. The signal could not catch the device. I sent the signal as ordered, but there was never enough time to stop the bomb.”

I sighed and sat on a pump. The pump vibrated my suit. I saw tubes leading from it to the massive, shivering, sweating tank of Microbes that hung from the back wall of the lab.

“Marvin, don’t send any more bombs anywhere without asking my permission?”

“I feel compelled to point out that, in this case, I already had your implicit approval due to your previous orders.”

“I know that. Just don’t bomb anything else without checking with me, will you?”

“Absolutely, Colonel. Now, I must ask that you allow me to leave the ship. I need to go to the sun factory orbiting the star Loki and manufacture a new, much larger bomb.”

“Permission granted. Just don’t blow anything up or launch anything until I give you explicit instructions to do so.”

“Protocol updated.”

I left him then and headed back up the passageway. I moved much more slowly this time, wondering if Hoon knew yet that we’d dropped an experimental bomb on his torn-up ex-planet. If he did, I knew he’d take it as an insult, a final stick-in-the-eye, and probably relate it to our earlier discussion.

I was left with an inescapable conclusion: robots made terrible diplomats.