“Now,” she said, when silence fell. “Arun, what can you tell us so far about the Killers?”
“Very little for definite,” Arun said. “There is no reason to argue about Researcher Handley’s contention that the Killers actually originated in a gas giant, rather than an Earth-like world. It seems absurd and we have the MassMind running possible evolutionary simulations, but there has to be something very weird about their homeworld. The atmosphere they chose for the starship is nothing like anything we or the Ghosts used.”
Tabitha shivered, despite herself. The Ghosts, like humanity, had been a spacefaring race before the Killers arrived. Unlike humanity, they hadn’t been able to establish a working civilisation in space after their homeworld had been bombarded to rubble and had died out among their asteroid belt. The haunting images of dead spacecraft and ruined asteroid habitations had provided a sobering look at how humanity’s story could have ended. Tabitha and her fellows from that era had saved the human race.
There were MassMind produced entertainments that had human explorers stumbling across the remains of the Ghosts — hidden colonies that had somehow survived — but as far as the researchers had been able to determine, the Killers had got them all, directly or indirectly. It was just another wonder of the universe that had been crushed under the heel of the Killers.
“Overall, however, they appear to have operated on the same basis as the Spacers,” Arun continued. “There was one Killer that was blended into the starship’s computer network, rather than a live crew and AIs.”
All eyes turned to Rupert, the Spacer. “We have attempted for quite some time to develop a starship… body for a human being,” he said, blandly. “The experiments tended to fail rapidly, leading either to complete mental collapse or insanity. One starship went completely insane and attacked a colony, before heading out to fight a Killer ship and being destroyed. We believe that the task of operating a starship was beyond the capability of a human mind, although we achieved limited success by pairing the human mind with several AIs intended to cushion the shock.”
He paused. “That did not, however, develop any greater efficiency than standard neural links like the Defence Force uses,” he added. “While some Spacers are, in effect, small spacecraft themselves, the task of operating a full-sized starship was something beyond any of the experimental subjects.”
Tabitha felt deeply shocked, even though she understood that every one of the experimental subjects had been a volunteer. Back on Earth, experiments like that would have been banned — along with a vast number of far less harmful experiments — leading to the Technical Faction’s decision to set up a massive base on Titan, away from the interference of people who knew nothing about science, but considered themselves capable of controlling it. After Earth had been destroyed, all moral and ethical limits had rapidly vanished, pushed aside by the desperate demands of survival. The Spacers had come out of research programs launched after Earth became a blackened cinder.
“Spacer-crewed starships are generally operated in a vacuum,” Arun commented, into the silence. “The Killers could have operated their own ship in a vacuum, but they decided that maintaining their atmosphere was important to them — and we don’t know why, yet. Our researchers believe that they had some motive that overrode more logical concerns — such as damage to exposed components caused by moisture in the air — but…”
He shrugged. “Research programs are ongoing,” he concluded. “I propose that we meet to review progress in a fortnight, or earlier if we make any surprising discoveries. Until then…?”
“One point,” Rupert commented. “The Spacers are all very happy about the successful mission and many have volunteered to assist with the research programs…”
“And we’re very happy to have them,” Arun injected. “They are actually more suited to an alien craft than most of our researchers.”
“…But we would like to know how the remainder of the Community is taking it,” Rupert continued, ignoring the interruption. “Admiral, how are your own people coping with developments?”
“Morale has never been higher,” Brent said, blandly. “The successful mission has been a big shot in the arm for the Defence Force and it has even had an effect — already — on recruitment. Even if we are attacked now and lose hundreds of starships, we would still have that success to encourage us. I have teams working on ways to duplicate that success, perhaps hitting other starships before they can put in new security measures…”
“Out of the question,” Patti snapped. “We don’t want to alert them even more to our activities.”
“I am inclined to agree,” Tabitha said, leaving the ‘for once’ unspoken. “Once we have completed the research programs on the captured ship we can consider our next step.”
“Understood,” Brent said. “Regardless, we still have to look at possible options.”
“The Rockrats are more cautious,” Jayne said. “There is some jubilation over the successful capture, in the belief that it will convince the Killers to start taking us more seriously, but at the same time there is a genuine level of concern that — this time — we might have overstepped ourselves. The Killers might come after the remaining settlements and that… would be the end.”
“There are the ships heading out to other galaxies,” Tabitha pointed out. The MassMind was generally in favour of the entire mission, but there were personalities that had their own concerns. The MassMind wasn’t a collective intelligence; the personalities could and did disagree with one another, something ferociously. It added a whole new meaning to the term ‘flame war.’ “There are also thousands of hidden settlements they shouldn’t be able to detect. The human race has an assured future ahead of it…”
“Skulking and hiding in the shadows,” Patti countered. “The Community… those who haven’t lost themselves in virtual worlds are worried about the impact if the Killers come after us. Others want to spit in their eyes, even if it means the deaths of thousands — millions — of humans. There are so many people lost in revenge fantasies that they probably can’t tell the difference between reality and their personal worlds.”
Tabitha nodded. It was something that had surprised her when she’d arrived in her new star system to be met by the first warp-capable starship. Many humans had continued to develop themselves and expand the human race, but many others had slid into fantasy worlds that didn’t include the Killers, or any danger at all. It struck her as nothing more than drug abuse, but her attempts to have it banned had failed. There were just too many people who preferred to withdraw into their own skulls rather than face reality.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, firmly. “We captured the Killer ship. What’s done is done. All we have to do now is unlock its secrets and then perhaps we can storm heaven itself.”
“And thank goodness that that’s over,” she said, afterwards. “Did you ever hear so much carping in your life?”
“You can’t blame them,” Arun pointed out, as he poured himself a simulated drink. Tabitha sometimes thought about downloading herself into an android body, just so she could walk and taste and touch again, but nothing had come out of it. She envied him his body, even though a MassMind personality had many more options for private enjoyment. “They’ve lived with the fear of the Killers for far too long.”
Tabitha felt her eyes flash. In the MassMind, that was more than a figure of speech. “No one is more aware of the danger of the Killers than I am,” she said, firmly. “I watched helplessly as they destroyed Earth. I also believe that we have to defeat them, or accept that our ultimate destiny as a race is to be destroyed by the Killers, or doomed to die out in an orgy of hedonistic pleasures on the edge of the galaxy. The first step towards defeating them or… hell, getting them to realise that we’re intelligent beings who have a right to exist requires taking one of their starships intact and studying it!”