Not that it matters, he told himself. If they decided they wanted to invade Earth, they could.
Images flowed through his mind from the databanks, triggered by his thoughts. There was no Prime Directive, no law preventing advanced races from overwhelming primitive races… just as the Hordesmen themselves had been overwhelmed. Hundreds of worlds had been invaded by their more advanced neighbours, then enslaved… or merely forced to pay tax. Earth had been lucky. The handful of aliens who had visited the solar system hadn’t been particularly interested in the human race or anything in their star system. But there had been other visits…
He poked the databanks, but details were scarce. Or perhaps he was simply asking the wrong questions, no matter how closely he scrutinised the data. There was no way to know.
Instead, he started to ask about the technology on the ship. The sheer size of the response sent his mind reeling in disbelief, as if the data was too much to handle. He felt a dull pain at the back of his head as he tried to process what he was being shown, then tried to distract himself by asking more questions. The Hordesmen hadn’t even bothered to scratch the surface of the ship’s full capabilities.
He felt a sudden burst of awe, mixed with terror. If Shadow Warrior was something the Galactics felt comfortable about selling to a tiny scavenger race, what did they have at their disposal? Was the starship, for all its wonders, merely the counterpart of an AK-47? Were the odd gaps in the datanet’s explanations intended to prevent the Hordesmen from developing their own starships? Or were they merely placing some limits on exported tech to prevent it from being turned against them?
The sheer potential of the technology stunned him. It would be easy, almost as easy as breathing, to reach out and download the entire human internet into one of the starship’s memory cores, even the millions of pornographic sites. The 30TB portable hard drive his friend had been so proud of producing was a laughing stock compared to the alien ship. And no security protocols could keep him out of a human system. He could download the secrets of the Pentagon, the Kremlin… every top secret base on Earth.
It terrified him. As an intelligence officer, a system like the one in front of him would be a dream come true, but it was also a nightmare. The most advanced human surveillance system in the world wasn’t capable of tracking everything, no matter what the designers claimed. This could… and it could do more. Complete and total monitoring of millions of people, at all times, was well within its capabilities. Kevin shuddered at the thought. Privacy would become a joke.
Or worse, he thought. He’d retired from intelligence work after the field had become increasingly politicised. He had never admired Edward Snowden for defecting from the United States, but he’d understood the impossibility of blowing a whistle when the most senior men and women in the nation were involved. I don’t think we dare hand this over to the government.
The question brought another stream of data into his mind. He welcomed it, even as he fired more questions back into the databanks. How were the aliens governed? Who were the major interstellar powers? What might they do to Earth if they discovered humanity?
They already know about us, he corrected himself. It was humbling, but unsurprising. From the point of view of the Galactics, Earth wasn’t even a microstate. They just didn’t care enough to try to take us into their system, even as slaves. We had nothing to offer them.
Something clicked. As an intelligence officer, he knew how to put pieces together to form a coherent picture. Now, looking at the data, he understand why some aliens had been interested in Earth… and why the Horde had followed in their wake. Humanity might be significant after all… and that thought, too, was terrifying. Frantically, half-convinced he had to be looking at a false Earth-centric picture, he fired off yet more questions. The datanet struggled to respond.
There was a sudden surge of data, followed by a stab of pain so intense he couldn’t help screaming. He dimly heard Charles calling his name, felt someone shaking his body… and then he fell down into darkness.
Chapter Four
Fnfian Horde Warcruiser Shadow Warrior
Earth Orbit
Steve stared down at his younger brother, helplessly.
“What happened to him?”
“Subject overloaded the neural interface,” the interface informed him. As always, there was no trace of emotion in its tone. “Subject’s brain shut down to allow time to recover.”
“I… see,” Steve said. “Will there be any permanent damage?”
“Unknown,” the interface said. “Place the subject in a medical tube for a more detailed analysis.”
Steve listened to the instructions, then Charles and he carried Kevin’s body down to the sickbay and placed it inside a transparent tube. The sickbay wasn’t like anything he’d seen in real life; instead of beds, there were a dozen medical tubes, each one big enough to carry a human, but too small for a Hordesman. It might explain, he decided, why the sickbay looked far cleaner than the rest of the ship. The Horde had simply had no use for it. But if the alien medical technology was as advanced as the rest of the starship…
He shook his head as the medical tube went to work, scanning Kevin’s body. “Permanent damage averted, but there are minor feedback curves from the neural interface,” the system reported. Steve silently prayed the system was smart enough to realise it was operating on a human, rather than an individual from any other race. “Compensating… note; subject also has numerous genetic flaws that can be corrected, if requested.”
Steve frowned. “Genetic flaws?”
He listened, in some disbelief, to the explanation. Again, most of it was well above his head, but it was clear that there would be long-term problems for Kevin — and the rest of the family, if they weren’t handled. Kevin, in particular, was at risk of losing his sight in the very near future, something that bothered Steve more than he cared to admit. Death was one thing, permanent disability quite another. And then there were the whole string of suggested enhancements…
“He’ll never forgive you if you don’t give him a bigger cock,” Mongo commented. Charles had replaced him on guard duty once they’d moved Kevin to the sickbay. “Nor will his wife.”
Steve rolled his eyes. Sexual enhancements weren’t the only suggested possibilities. Kevin could be given enhanced strength, coordination and longevity — even intelligence — and remain roughly human. But he could also be turned into a cyborg. The suggestions ranged from implanted weapons to actually removing his brain and inserting it into a combat unit. He accessed the interface and saw a handful of images, then shuddered. If he’d had to face something like that on the battlefield…
“I think we’d better concentrate on repairing the mental damage,” he said, firmly. “Other enhancements can come later.”
He watched, feeling utterly out of his depth, as the alien autodoc went to work. It seemed much more efficient than any human doctor, although the potential of the system to do great ill as well as good chilled him to the bone. Moments after it started, Kevin’s body jerked and his eyes opened. Steve hastily opened the tube and welcomed him back to the world.