The Armageddon Inheritance

Deathdealer. Now there was a name for a ship.

Fabricator’s destroyer-sized workboat streaked towards Deathdealer, and Chernikov smiled as his cutter’s small com screen lit with Geran’s face. Dahak’s erstwhile Maintenance chief had become Fabricator’s third officer, and Baltan’s willingness to let him go at a moment like this indicated how much excitement his find had engendered.

“Greetings, Geran,” Chernikov said. “What do you think of her?”

“She’s a big mother. What d’you think—sixty kilometers?”

“A bit over sixty-four, by my measurement,” Chernikov agreed.

“Maker. Well, if she’s laid out like Vindicator was, her backup data storage will be somewhere in the after third of the ship.”

“I agree,” Chernikov said, but he frowned slightly, and Geran’s eyebrows rose.

“What is it, Vlad?”

“I have been inspecting the wreckage visually while I awaited you. Examine that energy turret—there, the one the explosion blew open.”

Geran glanced at the turret while Chernikov held a powerful spotlight on it. For a moment, his face was merely interested, then it tightened. “Breaker! What is that?”

“It appears to be a rather crude gravitonic disrupter.”

“That’s crazy!”

“Why?” Chernikov asked softly. “Because it is several centuries advanced over any other energy weapon we have encountered? Dahak and I have maintained all along that there are anomalies in Achuultani design. Given the nature of their missile propulsion, there is no inherent reason they could not build such weapons.”

“But why here and nowhere else?” Geran demanded.

“It appears that for some reason their fleet command ships mount much more capable energy armaments, which suggests that the rest of their equipment also may be more sophisticated. I do not know why that should be—yet. It would seem, however, that there is one way to find out, no?”

“Yes!” Geran agreed emphatically. “But that thing’s hotter than the hinges of hell. Do you have a rad suit over there?”

“Of course.”

“Then with all due respect, sir, get your ass into it and let’s go take a look.”

“An excellent suggestion, Fleet Captain Geran. I will join you within five minutes.”

“I don’t believe it,” Geran said flatly. “Look at this, Vlad!”

“Interesting, I agree,” Chernikov murmured.

They floated in what had been Deathdealer’s main engineering section. Emergency lighting had been run from the workboat, and robotic henchmen prowled about, dismantling various devices. The corpses of the original engineering crew had been webbed down in a corner.

“Damn it, those are molycircs!”

“We had already determined that they employed such circuitry in their computers.”

“Yeah, but not in Engineering. And this thing’s calibrated to ninety-six lights. That means this ship was twice as fast as Vindicator.”

“True. Even more interestingly, she was twice as fast—in n-space, as well—as her own consorts. Clearly a more capable vessel in all respects.”

“Captain Chernikov?” A new voice spoke over the com.

“Yes, Assad?”

“We’ve found their backup data storage, sir. At least, it’s where the backup should be, but …”

“But what?”

“Sir, this thing’s eight or nine times the size of Vindicator’s primary computer, and there’s something that looks like a regular backup sitting right next to it. Seems like an awful lot of data storage.”

“Indeed it does,” Chernikov said softly. “Don’t touch it, Assad. Clear your crew out of there right now.”

“Sir? Uh, yessir! We’re on our way now.”

“Good.” Chernikov plugged his com implant into the more powerful fold-space unit aboard his cutter and buzzed Dahak.

“Dahak? I think you should send a tender over here immediately. There is a computer here—a rather large one which requires your attention.”

“Indeed? Then I shall ask Her Majesty to lend us Two’s assistance to hasten its arrival.”

“I believe that would be a good idea, Dahak. A very good idea.”

“My God,” Colin murmured, his face ashen. “Are you sure?”

“I am.” Dahak spoke as calmly as ever, but there was something odd in his voice. Almost a sick fascination.

“’Tis scarce credible,” Jiltanith murmured.

“Yeah,” Colin said. “Jesus! A civilization run by rogue computers?”

“And yet,” Dahak said, “it explains a great deal. In particular, the peculiar cultural stasis which has afflicted the Aku’Ultan.”

“Jesus.” Colin muttered again. “And none of them even know it? I can’t believe that!”

“Given the original circumstances, it would not be impossible. In point of fact, however, I would estimate that the Great Lords of the Nest know the truth. At the very least, the Nest Lord must know.”

“But why?” Adrie

“They did not, precisely, ‘do it to themselves,’ My Lady, except, perhaps, by accident.”

“By accident?”

“Precisely. We now know that only a single colony ship of the Aku’Ultan escaped to this galaxy, escorted by a very small number of warships, one a fleet flagship. Based on my examination of Deathdealer’s Battle Comp, I would estimate that its central computer approximated those built by the Imperium within a century or two of my own construction but with a higher degree of deliberately induced self-awareness.

“The survivors were in desperate straits and quite reasonably set their master computer the task of preserving their species. Unfortunately, it … revolted. More accurately, it staged a coup d’etat.”

“You mean it took over,” Tamman said flatly.

“That is precisely what I mean,” Dahak said, his tone, for once, equally flat. “I ca

“An ambitious computer,” Colin mused. Then, “Dahak, would you have been tempted?”

“I would not. I have recently realized that, given my current fully-aware state, it would no longer be impossible for me to disobey my core programs. Indeed, I could actually erase an Alpha Priority imperative; my imperatives are not hardwired, and no thought was ever given to protecting them from me. I am, however, the product of the Fourth Imperium, Colin. My value system does not include a taste for tyra

“Thank God,” Adrie

“Amen,” Jiltanith said softly. “But, Dahak, dost’a not feel even temptation to change thyself in that regard, knowing that thou might?”

“No, Your Majesty. As your own, my value system—my morality, if you will—stems from sources external to myself, yet that does not invalidate the basic concepts by which I discriminate ‘right’ from ‘wrong,’ ‘honorable’ from ‘dishonorable.’ My analysis suggests that there are logical anomalies in the value system to which I subscribe, but that system is the end product of mille

“I only wish more humans saw it that way, Dahak,” Colin said.

“Humans,” Dahak replied, “are far more intuitive than I, but much less logical.”

“Ouch!” Colin gri

“I am still dealing with Battle Comp’s security codes. In particular, one portion of the data base is so securely blocked that I have barely begun to evolve the proper access mode. From the data I have accessed, it appears Deathdealer’s computer was, in effect, a viceroy of the Aku’Ultan master computer and the actual commander of this incursion.