“In English, if you don’t mind, Doctor.” Kraft was growing impatient. “I’ve got a war to fight here and I don’t have time for theories.”
“Simply put,” Frost tried to explain, “some of the decoherence waves sent out by ANAD are collapsing to a different state than planned and Johnny’s coupler doesn’t know how to interpret them. It’s overloaded. The enemy’s quantum jamming doesn’t help either. So Johnny’s coupler just dumps the raw decoherence waves out. They wind up collapsing to a final state inside his limbic system tissue—where emotional states are formed. There they trigger unpredictable and unrelated feelings, thoughts and memories. It’s a known side effect of using quantum systems for communications. We gain some things and lose some things.”
“That may be so,” Kraft growled, “but one of your ‘side effects’ is that I’ve lost another ANAD master and damn near my whole Detachment. Plus my tactical commander’s less than a hundred percent and that just won’t work. The Project isn’t supposed to produce this result. Something’s got to be done and soon.”
Winger was just as frustrated. “Major, ANAD was pretty effective against Amazon bots until quantum jamming interfered with his core functions.” He described the cavity into which ANAD had probed. “The bugger’s effectors couldn’t reach into the cavity and only a weak phosphate group screened off the area. I’m guessing it was a port of some kind, probably for service or access. Once we were inside, ANAD made quick work of the membrane molecules…if it hadn’t been for the jamming, I’m sure ANAD could have dismantled the thing from the inside.”
Kraft just shook his head, peering down at something on his desk. “The source of that interference has got to be eliminated,” he said. “Whatever it takes…ANAD’s our best shot now, maybe our only shot to stop Amazon before it’s too late.”
Frost had an idea. “Major, I may be able to devise some countermeasures against the quantum interference. It’s a little trick we’ve been working on here at the Lab…a sort of ‘anti-phase’ entanglement wave. Experimentally, we’ve had decent results in the few trials we’ve made. But it will take time to perfect.”
Kraft rubbed his eyes wearily. Reports, staff briefings, decisions…long hours had been taking a toll on the battalion commander the last few days. “Time, Doctor, is one quantity that is unfortunately in short supply around here. Get working on it…and send the details to me. I’ve got a vidlink with UNSAC himself this afternoon, 1500 hours my time. Every option is on the table and I need as many as I can get…I’m running a bit low. The first thing I’m requesting is UNIFORCE approval to do something about that base in China. If that’s where the interference is coming from, we’ve got to take it out, neutralize it.”
Through a porthole, Winger watched the hard bright sun set in a molten pool of gold and crimson over the western horizon of the Pacific. In seconds, Charioteer was completely in darkness, arcing over the Amazon river basin itself. Jagged veins of lightning cascaded across the tropical skies fifty miles below them, creating a strobe effect on the cloud tops. Somewhere down there was the tiny river village of Via Verde or what was left of it. Birthplace of the Amazon Vector.
“Major, do you think UNIFORCE will do anything?”
Kraft’s face darkened. “Unknown, Winger. It’s politically touchy, with the Chinese. There are elements of the People’s Liberation Army who protect Red Hammer…it’s widely known. But UNIFORCE has to act now…there’s already talk out of Paris of ordering mandatory evacuations across the Southern Hemisphere…Sydney and Melbourne, Singapore and Buenos Aires. The sea level’s rising faster than anyone ever expected. If UNIFORCE doesn’t or can’t act now to stop the swarms, they’ll be swept aside and politics be damned. Without UNIFORCE, it’ll be every nation and tribe for itself. Anarchy won’t begin to describe it.”
Frost questioned Winger more closely about the effects of the coupler problem and the interference. As he did so, he created a small diagnostic, which he squirted to Kraft over a separate channel. Even as the Major detailed the steps UNIFORCE was taking to battle Amazon swarms around the world, he scanned the cryptic notes of the diagnostic from Frost:
Evidence shows Johnny and ANAD growing closer together, forging new links across the coupler circuit.
Symbiotic life forms evolve greater dependency over time, even in areas of vital functions.
The nature of endosymbiosis is that a new organism originates from the fusion of two existing organisms, or more precisely, two independently evolved organisms become a tightly coupled system and eventually just one organism.
Such symbiotic mergers have been common in the evolutionary history of life on Earth; actually, it accounts for life as we know it today. The ancestors of all life are bacteria.
Life can be viewed as a plan for bacteria to exist forever: bodies are desirable as food sources for bacteria, so one could view the evolution of bacteria into such bodies as a plan by bacteria to create food for themselves. See my attachment: Hive Minds: On the Prospects for Autonomous, Quantum-Coupled, Nanoscale Assembler Swarms.
It’s the nature of symbiotic systems that they become ever more dependent on each other. It’s a process that we can’t really predict or control very well.
Major: For the Symbiosis Project to succeed, this development must continue…without hindrance.
Kraft angrily closed down the diagnostic. He fired back a response to Frost over the same channel:
Doc…this project is interfering with my mission. I need a fully functional Johnny Winger now…even if it means not implanting or coupling with ANAD…
Kraft shut down the side channel to Frost. I don’t need any more distractions.
“Winger, it’s going to take nearly two weeks to regenerate another ANAD master assembler. We don’t have the luxury of waiting that long to engage the enemy.”
Johnny had seen the displays at McMurdo City. “The BioShield people said the real problem comes when the smaller swarms converge into big ones.”
“UNIFORCE agrees. I saw the latest intel this morning: Amazon swarms are on the move around the globe, not just in Antarctica. In the Congo rain forest, the south Pacific, the Caucasus Mountains, swarms are forming and moving and coalescing, spinning off daughter swarms and linking up with them again. They’re wreaking havoc everywhere, relentlessly modifying the planet’s atmosphere. And frankly, right now there’s not much we can do to stop them.”
“Is anything working, Major?”
“Not much. Intel says Amazon’s success depends on its speed of replication and maneuver. Your mission in the Antarctic is the first time we’ve been able to penetrate the swarm to any degree and get data on the bots from inside. It’s also the first time we’ve seen Red Hammer supporting the swarms…direct evidence with this quantum signal jamming. That’s a new factor.”
Johnny Winger recalled the interior of the Amazon bot cavity that ANAD had probed.
“We can beat the buggers, Major…I know we can. They may be big and fast, with propulsors and effectors like the dickens, but they’re still nanobotic mechanisms. When ANAD was inside that bot, I got the feeling the thing was nothing more than a big dumb brute…a dinosaur at nanoscale dimensions. Fast and maneuverable as hell, to be sure…he could rep like a madman, but brains—processor capability—I’m not so sure. The right tactics, Major…with no outside interference and I’m sure we can smash the bejeezus out of ‘em.”
Kraft found Winger’s attitude a refreshing change from the steady defeatism he’d been hearing all morning.
“You’ll have a chance to do exactly that soon enough, Captain Winger. Right now, I’ve got a new mission for you. Some new leads have turned up on the possible whereabouts of Captain Tallant and Sergeant Collin.”
“Hypersuit emitters?” Winger asked. Quantum Corps had been tracking intermittent signals from Tallant’s and Collin’s suits for several days, trying to pin down a fix.
“Memory scans of tha
t Red Hammer defector. There’s apparently reason to believe they’re still in the vicinity of Kurabantu Island, if they’re even still alive. I want you to form a rescue detachment when you get back to the Mountain.”
“Who do I get?”
Kraft could see the wheels turning in Winger’s head. “Pick anyone you want…I’ll approve it. We need those two back.”
“Amen to that, sir.” Winger had lost a lot of sleep lately, wondering about Dana Tallant…wondering what had happened.
“Winger…don’t even bother unpacking your gear. You’re leading a search and rescue operation in and around Kurabantu Island. Hyperjet Mercury will be already loaded and fueled when you arrive. You leave for the south Pacific at 0600 hours tomorrow morning.”
“ANAD won’t be ready for another ten days at least, sir.”
Kraft nodded grimly. “I’m well aware of that, trooper. Since the new master assembler won’t be ready, you’ll have to take an older version…or go in alone.”
CHAPTER 8
Kurabantu Island
The Marquesas
November 9, 2068
Early morning
“Launch coordinates coming up, sir.”
Johnny Winger was in the rear bay of the hyperjet Mercury, checking out the cockpit controls of the Quantum Corps floater Sea Ray. Part aircraft, part submersible, the ship had been detailed to the rescue task force for use in searching for the lost members of Bravo Detachment.
“Acknowledged.” Winger tested Sea Ray’s propulsor and steering controls, making sure she would be seaworthy when the time came. His CC2, Al Glance, sat beside Winger. “She looks easy enough to operate from here…flight controls, diving controls, navigation and sensors. How about your side?”
“All copasetic, sir.” Glance was synchronizing Sea Ray’s nav computer with Mercury’s. “I say we drop and go for a swim.”
Indeed, that was the mission plan. Launch coordinates were a fixed point in mid-air, about ten miles northeast of the coral atoll of Kurabantu Island. Once Mercury was stable in hover, her rear bay doors would open and Sea Ray would be dropped a thousand feet to the ocean surface. Once she was trimmed for cruise, the ship would descend beneath the waves and begin search operations.
Winger climbed out of Sea Ray’s cockpit and went aft to check stores and supplies. The briefing earlier that morning in the Ready Room at Table Top had been short and to the point: further interrogation and statements, corroborated by memory scan, of the Red Hammer defector Skinner had established that there was probably a new complex in the vicinity, previously undetected by UNIFORCE…a semi-automated compound in an underwater canyon about ten miles east of the island.
According to Skinner, this base was a principal design and development center for the demonio creatures Winger had first encountered at Via Verde. Besides functioning as a nursery, the complex was also said to be a local control node for Amazon Vector supercolonies operating across the Pacific basin. Some of the supercolonies were already engaged in modifying the temperature, salinity and oxygen content of the southern oceans.
According to Quantum Corps Intelligence, Skinner thought it likely that the captured members of Bravo Detachment had been taken there.
Winger stepped through the airlock, out of Sea Ray, and came forward to the crew station, where the rest of the unit was busy checking out their gear.
Deeno D’Nunzio was passing out small thumb-sized capsules to the rest. “Got your respirocyte dose here, Skipper.” She handed the capsule to Winger. “Everybody else has done theirs.”
Winger knew the respirocyte treatment was a necessary step in prepping for submerged missions. The capsule contained a complete replicated cycle of nanobotic artificial red blood cells. Once ingested, the cytes would augment a trooper’s respiratory system, by delivering over two hundred times more oxygen to lung tissues than normal. Spherical diamondoid pressure vessels less than a micron in size, the cytes would enable Quantum Corps troopers to survive underwater with no further assistance, wearing only skinsuits, comm gear and utility and weapons belts.
Winger was just glad to be rid of the tin can hypersuits.
He opened the capsule port and inhaled, letting the pressurized stream of respirocytes flood into his throat. There was a brief tingle and he felt his face flush red and turn warm for a few seconds…the result of an extra charge of oxygen from the cytes as they went to work.
“Nobody light a match,” joked Gibby, as he slipped into his skinsuit. “This place’ll go up like a torch.”
Sheila Reaves cycled her mag gun and holstered the weapon on her belt. “I feel so light-headed.” She feigned breathtaking swoon, staggering around the crew station.
Deeno snorted. “Sure she’s so light-headed…’cause there’s nothing upstairs.”
“Yeah,” said Ozzie Tsukota, nearby. “Nature abhors a vacuum—“
“Can it,” Winger ordered. “Gear up and let’s get aboard and get everything stowed away. Launch in five minutes.”
Sea Ray was outwardly an ungainly-looking craft, a far cry from anything sleek or hydrodynamic. The crew compartment was a squat biconic dish, like two dinner plates pressed together.
The interior was divided into three smaller compartments, a forward space for command and control, an engineering space with a diver’s lockout and a weapons and stores space. The dish of Sea Ray’s main cabin sprouted two legs, actually nacelles housing the hydrojet plants and propulsors. A small bubble of an observation platform sat on top of the dish.
“Ready to launch, Captain.” Al Glance’s fingers flew over the control board, readying Sea Ray’s navigation, diving and propulsion systems.
“Very well.” Johnny Winger felt a slight burning in his lungs—the result of the boosted oxygen charge created by the respirocytes. For a few moments, he felt warm and flushed. Inside his body, the cytes were steadily taking over the function of his red blood cells.
“Mercury, Sea Ray is powered up and ready to drop.”
The hyperjet pilot, Lieutenant Matumba, radioed back. “Okay, Captain…we’re maneuvering into position now. Synch your nav system and we’ll squirt you the coordinates—“
Glance pressed a few buttons. Sea Ray’s nav system was now fully updated.
Matumba was all business, her voice steady, even laconic. “Bay doors coming open—“
Mercury’s rear cargo bay doors clamshelled open. The hyperjet was now in full hover, a thousand feet above the choppy, turquoise waters of the south Pacific. It proved to be a beautiful, cloudless day.
“Launch deck is clear—“
“Sea Ray powered up…our props are turning—“
“Extending launch table—“
The floater rested on a cradle which now canted upward at the rear to a shallow angle and slid aft on rails toward the clamshell doors. At the same time, an electromagnetic catapult beneath the cradle primed itself to discharge Sea Ray into the air.
“On my mark…ten seconds.”
Winger and Glance nodded faintly to each other. Behind them, strapped into couches were half the Detachment, the troopers who would man the floater and conduct the search and rescue mission from underwater. The other half would stay aboard Mercury, conducting their part of the mission from the air.
“…five seconds—“
Winger took a deep breath and found his heart racing and blood rushing as the cytes in his bloodstream ramped up O2 for increased demand. He cinched his five-point harness tighter, took one last scan of the controls and fixed his gaze on the swells of the ocean breaking and foaming a thousand feet below.
“Two…one…launch commit…and—“
Matumba’s words were lost in the roar of the catapult as the power banks discharged and Sea Ray’s cradle jerked forward. Like a huge slingshot, the cradle accelerated down the tilted ramp, pulling the floater along with it.
Sea Ray rocketed out the rear doors of hyperjet Mercury and arro
wed straight down for the ocean, aiming to enter the sea at an angle calibrated to minimize shock, to the ship and her crew.
The foaming waves came rushing up to meet the windscreen. There was a loud shudder—bang! as the floater slammed bow first into the water and quickly submerged. Vibration damped quickly beneath the waves. Shafts of diffuse sunlight streamed down from above.
Sea Ray angled downward at a steep angle as the hydrojets kicked in.
“Bring her around to two zero two degrees,” Winger commanded. “I’m leveling off at a hundred feet. Let’s sound and scan a few minutes, get our bearings.”
“Copy that,” Glance said. He massaged the helm controls and Sea Ray banked to her new heading.
“Skipper—“ it was Mighty Mite Barnes, strapped into one of the aft seats. “—I’ll start getting the mantas ready to deploy.”
“Very well, get ‘em spun up and synched to Sea Ray. We get any kind of decent pings, I want them out the door and sniffing.”
The mantas were mobile autonomous non-tethered assault and surveillance bots, inevitably robotic ‘crabs’ to all who ever saw them. Sea Ray carried a complement of three, to extend her eyes and ears beyond normal sonar range.
Barnes unstrapped and slipped into the weapons and stores bay to begin prepping the robot scouts.
The mantas were stored on cradles outside of individual launch tubes. Each scout resembled a large beetle, its carapace studded with sensors, probes and manipulators. Hydrojet thrusters provided mobility, while the manta’s face mounted cameras and more sensors.
Barnes set to work. She synched each manta to Sea Ray’s computer. Then she primed the hydrojets, set the onboard processor to Full Auto and toggled a few more switches. One by one, the robot scouts came alive and crawled on articulating legs into their launch tubes.
“Mantas prepped and ready for launch,” she announced up to the main cabin.
“Very well,” Winger said. “Standby…let’s get Sea Ray into position—“