Chapter 22: Primus Sanguis!

Elon II Space Station, in orbit around Mars

Tuesday, December 12^th, 3116

After the tour of the nearly-finished assault boat, we then inspected the nearby autofab bays where more Higgins-type vessels had just begun construction. One was a near-duplicate of the vessel we’d just toured and would act as its backup. The others were experimental derivatives. The final two were simply unmanned assault carriers designed to deliver and deploy octopod assault units.

One of the carriers had landing legs like the manned landing craft while the second had a sharply pointed and heavily-armored breeching bow. This last boat was designed to ram into the thinner-skinned, central tapering portion of the Ark and disgorge its octopod troops inside. Both carriers were being designed by Praxcia with minimal input from Alek and Hannah. I’d have to investigate their planned use further when I had a free moment.

With nothing more to see at the fabrication yard, Ohmu and I returned with Hannah and Alek to the nearby habitat station. I was going to spend the night in my quarters and enjoy a bit of downtime before heading back to the Martian surface late tomorrow. We were in a smaller shuttle pod and with it being near the end of the local workday, four others were traveling to the habitat with us, making for a cramped ride.

Luckily, after a brief meet-n-greet, the other passengers escaped into virtual allowing for the three of us to discuss some items I’d noted from the tour. Of course, with the other passengers having still-active augments, I would have to watch what I said and how I phrased things.

“I am impressed with you both,” I commented. “Not only for the hard physical work of integrating Higgins’ various systems, but with the historical research you’ve done to prepare tactics.

“I know Alek has extensively studied history to perfect his martial arts,” Hannah replied. “But I was surprised that I enjoyed the research as much as I did. Maybe it was because I was constantly seeking to apply what I was learning to the current conditions.”

“What historical periods have you learned the most from?” I asked.

“Well, the two World Wars of course,” Hannah explained. “Notably the Hutier tactics from the first and the Siege of Leningrad during the second. Other battles before and after those wars were also insightful. Like Sadr City in Iraq which had happened about the time I was born.”

I flashed back to the campaign in Iraq. A school buddy had lost his son during that controversial war and I remember sharing in his sorrow. I’d been lucky enough to have grown up between major crises, having been too young to be involved in Vietnam and too old to be serving during the Gulf turmoil.

“We’ve even studied your solitary battle against the Assemblage launch facility on Baltra Island,” Alek added. “We have created a virtual walk-through from your point of view. If you ever want to relive that moment of glory, have Praxcia load it for you.”

I just shook my head while mouthing a silent ‘no’.

“Did you learn anything from your research that might help with either of our stern or bow attacks?” I asked after a moment.

“We did!” Alek said. “We noted the historical use of smoke screens and radar chaff as cover and diversion. We’ve discussed much of this already with Praxcia and the AI has begun to integrate the possibilities into the various attack options.”

“What are your takes on the two failed attacks?” I asked next.

“The bastard Ark is a tough nut to crack,” Hannah replied with a sour expression.

Alek nodded in agreement. “I have to admit I was surprised to see how well the Assemblage dealt with both attack methods. I know the AIs had told us that the poor outcomes were likely but still...”

“If only we had the ability to form our wormhole inside the Ark somewhere,” I speculated. “We could then bypass their trailing mines and forward debris protection weaponry.”

“Yeah, almost like laying siege to a castle!” Hannah exclaimed. “We divert them on one side while sapping a tunnel under their wall on the other. Once we dig under far enough, we load it full of antimatter and ... BOOM!”

She’d said the last so loudly that two of the other passengers came out of virtual.

“Sorry,” she apologized sheepishly. They quickly returned to their digital pursuits.

“Well, yes, that might work. “I replied. “Although I was thinking of what else we could do inside the enemy other than load it full of risky-to-handle explosives.”

Both of them looked at me for a moment before nodding thoughtfully. They’d realized that I was referring to Acid Rain, which I’d left primed and ready back on Vesta.

I was now back in my station quarters, enjoying the first moment of solitude I’d had in more than a week. When we had reached the station, I had joined Hannah and Alek for a quick supper in the station’s cafeteria before we each went our separate ways. Once in my apartment, I’d taken a quick shower and then spent an hour in virtual using the active micro-com link to catch up with friends and family back on Earth.

I reached out to my daughters first, enjoying a nice talk with Kela, but having to leave messages with both Charity and Larisa, who were busy or still asleep. I’d then tried Serenity and surprisingly found her awake, despite the very early hour at the island. Just as surprising, she was in a good mood.

Serenity reported that all was well back on Heels in the Sand. Cassius had left the island again weeks ago but she had quickly replaced him, this time falling for one of the island’s visiting guests. As she described her relationship with this much older person, I had to hold back a frown. I’d avoided asking any probing questions but from the details she’d freely given, it sounded like Serenity was becoming someone’s mistress. Oh, the young ... they just had to learn some life lessons on their own, and sadly, often the hard way.

When it was her turn for questions, Serenity was all over the subject of her dad and his new Martian girlfriend. Of course, I teased her about it! I openly speculated on the likelihood of a half-Martian half-brother. I gushed how awesome it would be for her to have a princess stepmother. Finally, I just laughed at her souring expression at my antics. I then laughed even harder when I upset her further over my refusal to spill any juicy details. She would just have to ask her dad about those herself.

While I had been off communicating in virtual, the kitchen’s fabricator had been busy producing fresh painting supplies. I planned to relax by taking advantage of the station’s Earth-normal simulated gravity to attempt to create art. So, when I emerged from virtuality, I assembled my new canvases, brushes, and paints and got to work. This time, the effort came easily and now, two hours later, I was deep into my third piece.

It was a space scene. I’d started with a black canvas and piled on the bright acrylics. The image was that of Higgins, lit by braking thrusters, moments from contact with the hull of the Ark. I’d ramped up the intensity by including a firefight. Higgins now had fore and aft mounted Gauss cannons which were spewing steady streams of high-velocity projectiles at a swarm of Ark-launched surface-to-air missiles. That I’d made up both without evidence was not important.

“Hannah and Alek are approaching the main entry,” Ohmu reported quietly from her kneeling position at her charging station.

I hurried to finish my current series of brush strokes but caught the android rising to meet the kids. I relaxed, not having to worry about losing the mental image I was working on. She would greet them and allow them entry while I finished. I was so deep in the grove that I did not notice their entry or approach.

“Dad, that’s amazing!” my son said, bringing me out of my creative bubble.

I considered the whole and judged it done. I quickly thinned a glob of Cadmium Red into an ink-like consistency and scrolled on my signature with an extra-long fine point liner.

“Not too much embellishment?” I asked, finally stepping back.

“No. Although we planned for Higgins to be equipped with stand-off drones for its close-in defenses.”

“I wanted to keep everything in tight and close for the painting,” I explained. “Besides, the magnetically accelerated projectiles would be visible glowing in the dark of space. Better to paint than a matte-black drone.”

“Your painting has improved so much over the years, John!” Hannah gushed.

“It’s like Alek and his training,” I replied unpretentiously. “Endless time allows one to tease the limits of perfection. Although, I wish improvements were linear and not logarithmic.”

They spotted the two paintings I’d already finished and set aside for drying. I pretended to be unconcerned as they scrutinized both in silence. The first smaller canvas was a surreal impressionist scene of the Phobos control room. I’d finally managed to finish the painting and thought it a satisfactory effort at paying tribute to those so devoted to the offensive. I noticed Alek grimace as he caught the way I’d portrayed his mother in deep interface. Good!

The second painting was of the Martian dawn I’d witnessed yesterday back in Coprates Chasma. The reddish dawn sunlight spilling over the rim of Valles Marineris and reflecting off the boiling exposed brine ponds. The billowing vapors drifting away lazily off the image from the thin thermal air currents.

“This one is magical!” Hannah whispered.

I was unable to refrain from smiling at her comment. That was exactly the effect I had wanted and I intended to gift the painting to the princess when I returned to the surface. Hannah had just confirmed that the odds were good it would be received well.

“So, what brings the two of you around this late?” I asked.

“We’ve come up with an idea,” Alek said. “It’s from something Hannah remembered.”

“Let me clean up and then we will talk,” I said, pointing them toward the apartment’s lounge area. Ohmu prepared beverages while I washed up in the sonic cleanser. As always, I was surprised at all the paint splotches. I tended to use my fingers occasionally which then transferred paint to other parts of my body while I was lost in the moment.

Shortly after, now wearing just a light robe, I rejoined my guest. “What have you come up with?”

“I’ll let Hannah tell it as it was her idea,” Alek said.

“I think I may have come up with a way to use Acid Rain against the Assemblage!”

I sat up. “Do tell.”

“I was thinking about what you asked ... about if we’ve learned anything from studying history that would help us with the current attacks,” Hannah began.

“First, your comment about opening a wormhole inside the Ark reminded me of the old stories of the Trojan Horse, about getting inside the enemy defenses. If we could find a way to safely target an eight-light-year-long wormhole directly into the enemy Ark’s computer room ... boom! Quick victory.”

I nodded. It was an early option we’d considered and one all of us still fantasized about. The problem was how to form the wormhole safely inside something of which we had no knowledge. If the wormhole terminus opened while impacting any significant matter ... BOOM! Feedback explosion and we just lost our hard-to-replace wormhole mechanism.

“For that to work, we would need to get our scout probes inside and have a look around, right?” Hannah continued. When I nodded she continued, “And then, once they find an open space large enough, they would need to send back accurate reference data to Sarissa to target its wormhole precisely.”

“Both of those would be helpful,” I agreed.

“Then I remembered reading about naval raiding ships,” Hannah explained.

“Huh?” I grunted in more of a comment than a question.

Raider ships? I delved deep into memory. Raider ships had been warships disguised as harmless merchant vessels. They carried hidden weaponry which they would then use with sudden great effect, after being allowed in close to an eager and unaware enemy.

“Are you saying that we need to build a spaceship that looks like one of theirs?” I asked uncertainly. “Have we even seen one of their ships up close?”

I knew that we had detected small remote objects on parallel courses with the Ark. It was assumed that these were remote sensing satellites, similar to the very-long-baseline units we’d used on our interstellar spaceships, or out at the Argus Array on the fringes of the solar system.

“No, we don’t have to make our infiltrator raider look like one of theirs,” Alek said with a grin. “We can make it look like anything and it will still work.”

“I’m not following,” I replied.

“Dad, if you use a strong enough smelling bait, it doesn’t matter what it looks like, even if it looks like a trap.”

“What would the enemy want that badly?” I asked.

“What’s the one thing humanity possesses that the Assemblage does not?” Alek replied with a smirk.

“A home?” I replied instantly. But as I had said that, I realized what he must be referring to.

“You want to dangle wormhole technology in front of them as bait?” I asked, incredulously.

They both nodded.

“They would be unable to resist?” Alek stated. “Ohmu?”

“I would have to concur,” the android said from where she stood watching our byplay.

Alek and Hannah then took turns explaining the details they’d come up with so far regarding the risky plan. They were also forthright in stating that much remained to be resolved. The basis of the plan was actually very simple. We’d offer the enemy a gift of our technology. In accepting that gift, they would open themselves to our follow-on crippling attack. The downside, if we failed, was that we would have given our enemy our one trump card.

Still, I agreed the risky plan was worth exploring further. If it worked, it would end a costly offensive almost before it got started. That offensive now seeming far less trivial than I’d imagined it playing out just weeks ago.

With the late hour, we tabled working out the details, as we were all quickly growing tired. Alek and Hannah had wanted to continue discussing the idea in virtual where our fatigue could be mitigated but I refused. We would schedule a future meeting to develop the idea and I insisted that we include Alek’s mother. Ohmu would coordinate our schedules and arrange a venue.

I was scheduled to travel back to the surface to rejoin Riho but Naomi could clandestinely transport the ambassador and I back to the station so the meeting could take place in reality. Because Uxe was busy, it was clear the meeting would happen after our next impactor attack. Hopefully, that attack would be a surprise success and render our risky fledgling plan moot.

Ben’s isolation lodge, near Seaside habitat, Martian surface

Tuesday (late afternoon), December 12^th, 3116

Her Royal Highness Neothoris loved the valley dawn painting and had thanked me with a long hug followed by a quick kiss on the cheek. I got more satisfaction from seeing Ben’s happy look at our exchange. My grandson had noted my effort to bring Dejah into the fold, so to speak, and I caught his small quick nod of appreciation as his non-terrestrial inamorata released me.

After our greeting, Dejah gave Riho and me a tour of their isolation lodge. Unlike the common, more-economical underground lodges favored on Mars, theirs was on the surface. Or at least the lodge’s upper hemisphere, which contained the main living spaces, was exposed above the surface.

From the exterior, their lodge resembled a large igloo, a curving dome of seamless blue-tinted ice. The pressure-stabilized ice was both an easily-procured local resource and also a very effective shield against cosmic rays. It also allowed the upper part of their lodge to remain translucent, letting in natural light without portholes and making the interior experience seem less bunker-like as was common with the underground dwellings.

Even with the below-freezing surface temperatures, the inside of their lodge was cozy and warm. One of the first questions I’d asked was how they kept from melting their roof. Ben had explained that there were two inner plastic pressure bubbles just under the ice layer. Both layers insulated the ice and reflected heat back into the interior.

The lower level of their lodge contained the primary airlock. This level also contained two identical bedroom suites and other utility spaces. Dejah directed us to the guest suite where Ohmu deposited our small travel case of non-disposable possessions. We then ascended a spiraling stairwell to the main living area above.

The upper level was one large open space over a dozen meters across and six meters high. The setting sun shining down into the valley from the west lit the interior of the ice shell with an almost-warm yellow glow. Ben then demonstrated the shell’s integrated imagers could render high-definition views of the exterior, thus negating the need for exterior windows.

The inner bubble could also be made fully opaque, which surprised me when the hemispherical space quickly plunged into darkness. A fantasy sky soon appeared, filled with shooting stars, comets, and swirling galaxies.

The amazing display took me back to my time spent living under the ocean aboard Nautilus as the sub’s lounge had had a curved roof similar to the interior of Ben’s lodge. The built-in imaging capability also explained how and where we would be watching the pending second frontal attack.

We enjoyed a nice dinner that emphasized some of the local specialties. Seaside had two professional farmers who shared space in a communal greenhouse. With the current ‘in season’ crops being spring vegetables, we were treated to a wonderful cob salad. Dessert was Martian Foam, an ice-cream-like concoction that involved exposing extruded sugared goat’s cream to the near-vacuum cold of the Martian atmosphere. The dry frozen strands were then gathered and spun into a ball to be served with our choice of toppings.

I loved it enough that I instructed Naomi to coordinate with the local producer to occasionally transport freshly-made batches back to Serenity. She could then add rare culinary specialties to the island’s offerings and thus increase its popularity. To attempt to cover for the wasteful exuberance, I did mandate that this was to only occur when Naomi had a surplus of transport energy. The AI assured me that there were times when such extra reserves were available.

After our meal, Dejah took Riho off to look at her small art gallery of billion-year-old Martian fossils. Ben took me to their garage so he could show off the custom Mars buggy he was building. As always, I was amazed at how the traditional gender splits and roles had returned in our new future society. I’d actively worked to start anew, but easy access to the digitally-stored media from the before-times still affected our society. I did have to admit that the familiarity was comforting to me in many ways.

“What’s up with Riho?” Ben had asked after we’d closed the engine covers on his project car.

He’d noticed that my companion had acted differently tonight.

“She just returned from a long virtual session with her twin back on Earth,” I explained.

I then had to explain further, how there was another presence of the alien active in the Simulated Reality Project. I’d also explained how Riho’s other self had been brought into existence in a recreation of the insect-like Hemru true physical form. This meant the simulation included the complex and alien Hemru brain and thought patterns.

Riho ... my Riho, wanted the two versions of herself to remain in synch as much as possible. Thus, the periodic sessions where their thoughts were exchanged, mingled, and blended. At the conclusion of these sessions, both versions were altered, although my Riho eventually returned mostly to how she had been beforehand. It was all very confusing and I had to admit to my grandson, somewhat disturbing.

“That’s amazing!” Ben finally replied. “And I can understand how that it would weird you out. So, does the bug-form Hemru back in the SRP interact with the Picket version that still lives there?”

“Not that I know of,” I replied. “There are over twenty versions of Picket in existence now though. I think they had discussed having one iteration interact with the Hemru. Let’s check if that happened ... Naomi?”

—Iteration twenty-two of Picket was allowed to learn of the presence of the Hemru and there has been interaction.— Naomi relayed via my implant. Ben had stiffened slightly so my AI had included him in the reply.

—In addition, the Hemru awareness has observed clandestinely six other active iterations where Picket and the Master AI are firmly in control of Sol. The alien has also participated in four iterations where a civil war is ongoing between the Assemblage forces and feral humans.—

“Naomi?” Ben asked almost hesitantly. “How many iterations of Picket are there?”

—There are currently one hundred forty-two active iterations, Benjamin.—

That startled me. I had been unaware that there were so many.

—Although the number varies on a week-to-week basis and new branches are allowed to propagate and older ones pruned.—

“Why so many Pickets?” I asked. “Has something new come up?”

—The overall number of digital copies tracks with the early projections of how many simulations would be needed for proper studies.—

Ben began asking another question but instead, I heard Naomi continue speaking into my implant.

—John, fourteen new Picket iterations were created just twenty hours ago. I deduced the need for these additional simulated realities because of your recent discussion with Hannah and Alek. I planned to discuss details when you have your next planning session with Uxe, Hannah, and Alek.—

Naomi had to be referring to our recent talk on how to use a raider ship baited with wormhole technology to penetrate the enemy’s defenses. The AI must have created the new iterations of Picket and the Master AI to further that ruse. Interesting! I was curious but now was not the time.

“I look forward to learning about them,” I subvocally replied to the AI.

Shortly after, our man cave session broke up and we rejoined the others. I was surprised to see that Ambassador Riho was now wearing Martian facial sigils just like Dejah. It was a small red crescent with twin diamond points centered on her forehead. She just shrugged when I raised my eyebrows at the markings.

Fifteen minutes before the launch of the second kinetic attack, and with our appetites sated, Dejah directed Riho and me to our seats in the main lounge area. Because we were treating this evening as a private family get-together, Adele was not in attendance. I did concede and allowed her to have Ohmu take a few still images once we were gathered to watch the live attack attempt.

“Māvors, please link us into the military feeds,” Her Highness said.

“At once, Princess Neothoris,” the Martian AI said. “Please be aware that Alek Uxe-Abrams, Hannah Crather Vinnytsia, and Uxe Esperanza are standing by to merge feeds. Shall I allow them to jointly access?”

Dejah giggled and I caught Ben’s frown. “Oops, silly me. I’m so used to doing this in virtual that I forgot! Of course, let them share our format, Māvors.”

The room’s background lighting dimmed and the domed projection ceiling became a multi-windowed, high-resolution display. Our seating reclined back to our individual preferences as data and imagery began filling in the various windows. Though this was far more intimate, I was reminded of the old IMAX domed movie theaters of my youth.

Images appeared showing my son, Hannah, and my former wife in smaller windows to the left. I smirked as Hannah and Alek were barely concealing their annoyance at being kept waiting. Uxe’s image was impassive and I saw that it was digital recreation. Physically, she was currently in deep immersion in the Phobos control room and would be monitoring our watch session only intermittently and when her full attention was not needed elsewhere.

I recognized the background behind Alek as that of his apartment on the Elon II space station. Hannah was not with him nor was she in her quarters. From her sweaty leotard and from the actively exercising shells behind her, she must be working off her pre-attack anxiety in one of the station’s workout rooms.

The other windows were other areas on Phobos; the overall control room, the power dynamo field, and the big wormhole gimbal structure itself. There was a closer-in view of the big torus which showed the tungsten impactor bundle, with its long and bulky maneuvering stage attached, loaded into its launching mechanism. A new series of windows opened which showed similar views of the Sarissa facility on Vesta.

Because of the many unknowns with tonight’s risky attack, we’d be creating the Sarissa observation wormhole much earlier than with the attacks previously. Despite the extra energy required, we’d wanted the telescope sensor in place and monitoring the enemy Ark when we sent the weapons package through.

We chatted with Alek and Hannah about many things as the countdown continued. I mostly listened as Ben and Dejah did most of the talking. I was amused as Alek and Hannah carefully skirted the subject of what they did up on the station. We’d been trying to keep the details of our planned excursion to the enemy Ark closely held for as long as possible.

At just under five minutes remaining, Uxe found a moment to appear and give us a full update on the preparations. I was happy to hear that all was proceeding as planned. After attending to our questions, she then returned to full immersion. The Vesta orbital power dynamo became active at two minutes, providing additional power to Sarissa whose capacitor banks were running low. This was followed immediately after by the sequential activation of six of the larger Phobos atomic dynamo units.

Sarissa activated at ninety seconds remaining; its terminus targeted to a point eight light seconds ahead of the enemy Ark and nearly a quarter of a million kilometers off to the side. The sensor stalk we were poking through would be larger with multiple telescopes. It would be watching the approaching Ark and also scanning the area ahead of it for any debris shield devices.

At thirty seconds, I glanced over to see that Dejah had finally abandoned us for her virtual forums. I’d been surprised that she’d stuck around this long, but just as I was about to ignore her and focus on the displays, I caught her shell becoming active as she exited virtual. She rubbed her head looking fatigued and caught me watching her.

“Sorry! I forgot to record my speeches for the Mars forum. I manage to finish three versions by using accelerated virtual. I’m not used to that speed so now I feel mentally wiped out.”

I nodded in understanding. I’d declined recording my own speeches for this attempt as my pushing for it was still a sore subject. Naomi agreed that my remaining apart and silent would be helpful, giving those aggrieved the freedom to rant or rave as they wished, and thus venting pent-up emotions. The AI would be monitoring of course ... and taking notes.

“Primary wormhole formation commencing,” Praxcia AI’s no-nonsense military voice announced over the military data feed.

The chamber’s ceiling display was now busy with activity. On the right were windows showing both atomic dynamos firing in full blaze. Windows devoted to Sarissa’s twin telescopes were showing the distant oncoming Ark and also the empty region where the Phobos wormhole terminus was targeted to form. The window showing the Phobos torus caught my eye. It was energizing and spatial distortion rings were forming at the center of the big torus.

“Spatial rift now open and stable. Deploying the Phobos fringe sensor array and launching the enhanced impactor bundle.”

A new window opened showing the distant star field from eight light years away as seen by the new fringe sensor. This image panned around quickly as the terminus coordinates were determined. Half the star field went black as a large object shot passed.

“Impactor bundle transfer complete. Precise terminus location now determined.”

The map window enlarged and red markers appeared. On it was labeled the locations of the oncoming Ark and the Phobos terminus. Suddenly, additional flashing red data marks appeared.

Before I could attempt to parse the new warnings, Praxcia spoke up, “Warning. Terminus location anomaly. The arrival point overshot the expected coordinates by approximately six kilometers.”

The AI was speaking so fast I could barely understand it. I was about to ask for an explanation when Ben spoke, “Did we send it too far away for the maneuvering stage to compensate?”

For this attempt, we had wanted the wormhole to form slightly off to the side of the enemy’s approach vector. This was to both hopefully avoid any leading debris shielding and to also be outside the main scanning area of the Ark’s forward-facing weapons system.