Usurper of the Sun Read online

  “What do you mean, Joseph?” Aki asked.

  “We know there are at least two intelligent civilizations in this tiny and forgotten corner of the galaxy. That means tens if not hundreds of thousands of other civilizations in our galaxy alone. Nonetheless, the first one we met killed well over a billion people. Isn’t it possible that the benevolent species are the ones staying at home minding their own business and the ones traveling from star to star are destructive and imperialistic, with no regard to whatever life they snuff out?”

  Aki glared at Joseph, astonished.

  “Is that what you’ve thought all along? Is that why you wanted to be part of the Contact Team?”

  “I’m not an assassin; I’m also not a welcome wagon. I will, however, say that I’m skeptical of their intentions. Like you, I’m here because I want to know why they came, ma’am.”

  “Oh,” Aki said. She wondered if she had lost perspective after all. Had she made judgments based on what she wanted instead of based on the facts? Embarrassed by the accusation that hung in the air, Aki realized that she had not lost touch with her objectivity. She had acted on intuitions about the Builders that only she had been privy to. After all, Aki Shiraishi had been the first person to set foot on the Island. She was the one whose intuition led to the discovery of how to destroy the Ring. She was the one who had realized that humanity needed to rebuild the Vert-Ring.

  In her heart, Aki knew that since the moment she had squinted into the telescope and thought she saw a tower, a voice within her had guided her thoughts and actions, providing special insight into the Builders. If there was a way out, trusting that voice was what was going to get them through.

  “The signals are too complicated to crack. But there’s too much data coming and going for these to be livestock in a pasture. I’m convinced these are the Builders,” Raul said, interrupting Aki’s thoughts.

  “You’re sure now?” Aki asked.

  “Positive. The downstream source from Alice’s implant is transmitting enough information to fill a library every few hours. That’s too excessive for the only thoughts in her head to be daydreams of grazing in grassy pastures. The same goes for the upstream—it’s millions of times greater than what would be necessary to just keep their minds blissed out or serene.”

  “What are you saying?” Aki asked.

  “These gals are running this Ferris wheel, no doubt about it. I bet each one could outthink a continent full of humans in their sleep. The question is: where is this information being sent?”

  “Do you think there’s some kind of core or central brain on the ship? Maybe that was talking to Natalia?” Joseph asked.

  Raul frowned, concentrating. Aki worried that he was going to lose his focus again.

  “I can’t see a core. If you look at the human brain, it doesn’t have a core of consciousness. Communications networks don’t have cores either. The same goes for Natalia. I think advanced systems like the Builders’ intelligence exist across all components, spread far and wide. It’s called nonlocality.”

  Aki wondered if the Builders were individual cells. When combined, they could create a composite being much greater than the sum of the parts. If that were true, then each of the beings shared information with the others, which explained the presence of the embedded transmission devices.

  “I don’t get it. So they’re interlocked with each other in a state of meditation as they go from star to star? What’s the point? Some kind of society that completely conquered their individual egos?” Aki asked.

  “No idea. Do you think the Builders turned into this after they developed their incredible tech? Maybe their society took a wrong turn somewhere and we’re looking at the wreckage of a societal breakdown.”

  Aki brought her hands together. “We are asking unanswerable questions. I know we want to forget that the graser strikes in an hour, but let’s try everything we possibly can.” Aki walked around the group of Builders lying near them. She turned on her external speaker. “Hey! You need to get out of here and go back up to your jungle. It’s not safe here!”

  She smiled and pointed toward the branches.

  “Do you understand?”

  None of them moved.

  “I’m sorry that we hit you earlier, but this is going to be goodbye for us all,” she said.

  Aki walked toward Alice and caressed her face as tenderly as she could through the gloves of her suit. She stepped back and waved farewell.

  The two men watched without saying a word. Together, they climbed back into the jungle and tethered themselves to the sturdiest branches they could find. The suits were designed to absorb most of the effects of shock or collision, but it was time to prepare for sudden course changes that the Builders’ ship might make.

  Once they were secured, Aki said, “Men, because we are shut off you are the only two that can hear this, so I will say it plain. This ship might be able to produce dozens of Gs, and a direct hit from the graser will disintegrate us before our brains even notice. Honestly, I am sorry that it has come to this. I know you made your decisions to join my team on your own, but I feel responsible.”

  “I’ve had a good life. Igor and Aida were envious that they had to wait on the ship. Now I’m envying them,” Raul said. He was pale.

  “No regrets. I wrote my will before I left,” Joseph said. To Aki’s amazement, he was smiling.

  “You’re a pessimist,” Raul told him.

  “Semper Fi means you never know what comes next. You never know which mission is going to be your last.”

  “We all knew it could end this way. I programmed the Phalanx’s computer to beam my research into space if I didn’t make it back. That’s the part of me that I want to live forever, the part I want to eventually reach the corners of the universe.” Raul’s voice sounded far away.

  “I wish I had thought of that,” Aki said.

  “Crazy lady, we don’t know that the graser will work,” Raul said, his voice stronger.

  “If it does, I’m grateful I got to serve with you,” Joseph said.

  They soon ran out of things to say and could only stare at the countdown. Aki closed her eyes.

  ACT VII: AUGUST 1, 2041

  1 AM GMT

  THE PHALANX ACCELERATED away from the Builders’ flight path, reaching the safe zone outside of graser range. The UNSS Thompson, which carried the graser, was on an interception course. The Thompson would reach the point where the two ships would nearly intersect in about three hours. Given the power of the graser, the Builders’ ship was already well within range.

  To be on the safe side, the UNSDF had shared very few details about their trump card of the hijacked alien weapon even with the rest of the fleet—but Igor knew that the first graser emission would be triggered in less than a minute. He backed up the ship’s data in preparation for the electromagnetic shockwave that would follow the blast. He continued examining the incoming data, trying to take his mind off the fact that three of his crewmates were still inside the alien vessel.

  The countdown reached zero. The beam would travel for less than a second before striking the Builders. The light from the resulting explosion was expected to reach him four seconds later. Igor counted the time to himself nervously: one, two, three, four…

  Nothing. Even after a full minute, the explosion did not happen. After five minutes, he received a message from the UNSS Becquerel.

 
  PROCEEDING WITH PHASE II.>

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Aida asked from her cocoon.

  “No idea. I’m sure the UNSDF planned for this. They must have a trick up their sleeves. The Builders must have overridden the graser, or at least thwarted it somehow. Maybe it’s programmed to recognize their ship.”

  “What do you think Phase II means?”

  “It’s so top secret that they haven’t told me and I’m the acting commander. Look. It’s moving.”

  The image from the camera on the outside of the Becquerel showed t
he engines of the unmanned Thompson, carrying the enormous cannon, firing at full thrust.

  “Are they trying to ram them?”

  “Can they move fast enough to block the Builders’ path?”

  The trajectories of the two ships were updating on the operations map. The map showed that the vectors of the two ships would intersect in fifty-four minutes.

  “That gives the Builders an hour to attack the Thompson. They will never even get near the Thompson because the Builders will vaporize it.” Then Igor realized what Phase II was. “That’s it! Fleet Headquarters was planning this all along in case the graser didn’t fire.”

  “Planning what?” Aida asked.

  “The graser cannon is made of the same material as the Rings. The Builders’ attack beam won’t be able to destroy it.”

  “We’re going to use the graser as a shield?”

  “Can we win a battle with nothing but a shield?”

  The Builders must have known that their beam would be useless against their graser cannon. They made no attempt to fire upon the massive roadblock that was approaching their path. Instead, the Builders made a slight course correction to avoid the potential collision. The ships would now miss each other by less than three hundred kilometers, but the ships would not collide.

  After some time, a second flash of light appeared from behind the graser, accelerating away from the Thompson. Then the flash split into four separate pillars of exhaust. As Igor had suspected, the Thompson had been carrying nuclear missiles. The iris of the Builders’ engine dilated and closed as it prepared to fire its attack beam on the missiles. The first missile was struck down almost instantaneously. The remaining three were within two hundred kilometers.

  Seven seconds later, the second missile was destroyed. The remaining two crossed the one hundred kilometer mark. Six seconds later, the third was eliminated. A single missile was still on target. Three seconds after that, the nuclear missile struck the Builders’ ship and a blinding flash filled Igor’s screen.

  The filters failed as the explosion overwhelmed the cameras. Both his primary screens then went blank. Because of the dimensions of his cocoon, Igor was unable to turn away. Instead, he closed his eyes. Aida’s sobs came through his speakers. There was a dull rumble he could not place. Even though he knew it was a hallucination, the faces of his three friends appeared in the reflection of his dead monitors. That image would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  ACT VIII: AUGUST 1, 2041

  2 AM GMT

  AKI CONVINCED HERSELF that the graser had not fired after all. Then there was a shockwave that was almost strong enough to shake her loose from the branch to which she had tied herself. Thick gray dust filled the air. A powerful wind swept through the ship. A piece of loose debris slammed Aki’s right arm. It left a mark, but the suit held; had it ripped she would have died instantly. The tether holding her in place stretched to its limit as she was tossed about in the fierce wind.

  Aki was horrified to see the blackness of space only twenty meters to her right. The rim of the hull around the gaping tear glowed white-hot. Then thousands of grayish fibers streamed from the surfaces of the ship, covering the fissure. Aki was terrified but could not help but think that the spinning fibers reminded her of cotton candy. Within seconds the fibers had completely sealed the opening. Taking a deep breath, Aki wondered why the same thing had not happened when they had cut the ship open with the plasma torch. The sudden loss of pressure must have been what triggered the rapid repair. The portable airlock used on entry had kept pressure constant, thus the ship had not been stimulated to self-repair. The wind died down gradually.

  “Joseph, Raul, can you hear me? Are you injured?”

  “I’m about five meters down. Stupid tether snapped,” Raul answered.

  “That must have been one of the nukes. Good thing we didn’t take a direct hit,” Joseph said.

  Within minutes, the dust had been filtered from the air and full pressure was restored. They went down through the broken branches to the beach, regrouping and inspecting each other for damage. Their bodies and their suits had held up.

  “We are all right. Now we check on them,” Aki said.

  The dunes had been leveled. Most of the black fluid was gone. Most of the Builders had curled up into balls, as armadillos do when attacked. One was sprawled on the sand, a large wound in its side. A viscous tar escaped from the gash. Aki did not think it was breathing.

  The other Builders started to uncurl. Aki recognized the one they called Alice. She ran to the creature’s side. Alice elongated herself and lifted her head toward Aki. Aki hugged the Builder, relieved that Alice was safe for the moment. She could not help but wonder what the UNSDF would try next. Knowing that the UNSDF was likely to kill them all triggered an even greater affinity to the alien species.

  “I find myself fine, Aki Shiraishi.”

  Aki whirled around to see where the voice had come from. “Raul, your jokes have gotten sick. I can’t take this anymore!”

  “I said that I find myself to be quite fine, Aki Shiraishi. There is no need for having emotions over it,” the voice repeated.

  “Who said that?” Aki asked, glaring at Raul, still convinced that he had found some way to fake this odd-sounding voice.

  “I am speaking. The one that you have called Alice,” the voice said in a rumbling alto.

  Alice lifted her head even higher. It was clear that she was looking directly at Aki. Her enormous black eyes moved up and down as she waited for Aki to acknowledge her. Raul and Joseph came and stood by Aki’s side. Raul started shaking. He tried to speak, but it was unclear what he was trying to say. Several other Builders raised their heads. Each one turned its head and eyes toward Aki.

  “How do you know my name?” Aki asked.

  “I stored it in my memory.”

  “From when? There’s no way for you to know my family name.” Aki presumed that Raul or Joseph had said her first name in Alice’s presence, but they rarely called her by her full name.

  “You gave it to me many years ago. You said, ‘Hello, Natalia. I am Aki Shiraishi. How are you today?’ It was something that I remembered.”

  Aki looked at Raul. He was as dumbfounded as she was. Then Raul stepped forward. “Unbelievable. Is Natalia connected to you somehow? Her memories of my tests are intact and part of your memories, is that it?”

  “Natalia’s flaw was that she could not communicate with humans—she had nothing else in the universe to communicate with. How is Natalia or Alice or whatever is going on able to talk to us?” Aki said. Raul shrugged in response. Aki turned toward Alice.

  “Why didn’t you acknowledge us before? Why start talking now? Why have you come to our solar system? What made you leave your home? Do you understand who we are? We are humanity, an intelligent species endangered by the Ring around our sun, by your presence in the solar system.” She would have continued her gushing river of questions, all the thoughts that had built up over the decades, but Alice started to answer them.

  “I have always heard you. I know that you have been using different means to reach us. I understood everything that you have said, including the sounds and images that you have been broadcasting to me for many years now.”

  “Using some kind of supercomputer to make sense of it all?” Raul asked.

  “I was able to do it within myself—it is not difficult for me. The reason I ignored you is because you were in the peripheral awareness of our group consciousness. I simply was not able to realize that you were distinct from me to react to your presence.”

  “You did not realize we were there even though you heard our messages?” Aki asked.

  “Being able to hear you and realizing your presence are not the same concept. Our collective consciousness underwent scission in the nuclear explosion because of the extensive damage throughout this vessel. I am now using the sensory organs in this particular body, which is allowing me to function as an individual entity. As a result, I, individually, am ab
le to perceive your existence as beings separate from ourself.”

  “By scission, do you mean that the network connecting you into one consciousness has malfunctioned?” Raul asked.

  “Yes, that is accurate. It has been damaged and is functioning in a diminished capacity.”

  “When you are fully linked, your senses in that specific body are not active. That is why you could not see or hear us before even though we were standing right there?” Aki asked. Of all that she had imagined, she had barely considered a group consciousness that could function with little need for input from the sensory organs of physical bodies. She pictured humans wired together and in sensory deprivation tanks.

  “That is accurate. Being in the collective consciousness, I am unable to perceive the existence of adaptive entities.”

  “What do you mean by the word ‘adaptive’?”

  “Humans are the product of evolution. You humans have adapted to your environment and to other environments as you have evolved. My existence functions on a different path. Adaptive beings with individual consciousnesses are attached to the physical universe.”

  “Are spaceships and missiles also products of the physical universe?” Raul asked.

  “That is accurate. You, even in your individual consciousnesses, are living in the physical universe, and anything you create is affixed to this universe.” Alice lifted her head.

  “I created Natalia. Wouldn’t that attachment make her adaptive because I created her?” Raul asked.

  “Natalia is unfinished as of yet—but Natalia is a nonadaptive intelligence. You are unable to understand Natalia even though you are her creator because her nonadaptive consciousness emerged without you. Natalia transformed into something your planet had never seen before. It occurred completely by chance.”

  Aki had always been convinced that the factor that separated humans from other organisms was advanced intelligence. The idea that a similar distinction could separate human beings from an even higher form of intelligence beyond the capacity of humanity was disconcerting. It meant that human accomplishments, from Tannhäuser to Carl Sagan’s research, were nowhere near as intelligent as humanity had presumed.