Chapter 6

Desolator’s control chamber seemed like a chapel, or perhaps a mausoleum, with its three long boxes like giant sarcophagi. Absen hadn’t had to come here to speak with Desolator, but he’d wanted to see the place again for some time. He wasn’t certain why.

“Welcome, Admiral,” echoed the AI’s voice.

“Thank you, Desolator. I was walking, and a question occurred to me. Something I have been meaning to ask you for some time, about what took place before the final battle at the Ryss homeworld.”

“Of course.”

“The Bite. That was the result of your war with the Meme.”

“Yes.”

“It’s a relatively dead zone. Once we learned what emissions to look for, humanity found traces of civilizations in all directions, but much less within that area. It’s why our radio telescopes didn’t find alien life earlier. Yet, when we took Gliese 370, we didn’t wipe out the Sekoi, and therefore ten years later we have a thriving economy. Did we just get lucky, or was there some other factor in play?”

Desolator paused for a moment longer than usual. Absen realized this fact was significant. At the speed the AI thought, there was no reason for a break in conversation. Maybe it was for effect.

Unless Desolator was thinking deeply. Or perhaps dissembling? Chirom had said that the machine intelligence, like most Ryss, was not very good at lying.

“This may distress you, if I understand human psychology; or, as a military man, it may not.” He paused again.

“Desolator, I have never seen you hesitant or uncertain like this. Please explain fully.”

As the Admiral’s request was effectively an order, and Desolator had submitted himself to Absen’s authority, the AI forged ahead resolutely. “I know you humans fear me for my power, and also for my other-ness. I am a mind doubly alien, Ryss and machine. Because of this, I have felt inhibited in explaining the full implications of the Bite.”

Absen waved his hand in the air, dismissive. “Get to the point.”

“Perhaps we could have some privacy?” Desolator’s voice dropped in volume and seemed to move to a position next to Absen’s ear, probably transmitted from a directional speaker.

Absen turned to look over his shoulder at the vast command center behind him, and told the unfamiliar Ryss on the captain’s throne, “Do not disturb me while I am conversing with Desolator.”

The big cat nodded.

Moving deeper into Desolator’s chamber, Absen said quietly, “Go on.” He found a place against the wall farthest from the permanently open door and leaned against it.

“You humans count genocide a great crime, but we Ryss see little value in sparing an enemy, especially if his death is honorable.”

“Got it.”

“The Meme actually believe more as you do, for different reasons. They wipe out planets only as a last resort, because they want to enslave them.”

“I see. So what you are saying is that the Ryss, not the Meme, caused the devastation of the Bite.”

“Yes. As a more-recently built ship, I never left the home system until the end. However, earlier Dominator-class ships and the smaller dreadnoughts that came before us traveled via stardrive to hundreds of Meme worlds, and ruthlessly laid them waste. It seemed advantageous at the time.”

Saddened but not surprised, Absen said, “’Scorched earth,’ we call that. Didn’t you think about helping the enslaved races revolt?”

“You must understand, Admiral, that we had no idea how large the Empire was, and we were under tremendous pressure. The situation was not so different from your own World War Two, as the Allies reached deep into the Axis powers with the indiscriminate firebombing of cities, not to mention Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We were desperate, and had no time for niceties. And, perhaps, no inclination.”

“I can’t judge your people and their culture, Desolator. Maybe in your position I’d have done the same thing. Certainly it was part of our planning process for Gliese 370.”

Desolator’s voice evidenced surprise. “You considered wiping out the Sekoi?”

“Most of them. In the extreme case. If all else failed, we could have struck the planet with large relativistic projectiles and bombed them back to the stone age, and then continued on to another star. So I understand what the Ryss did.”

“Why did you not ask me this before, Admiral?”

Absen massaged his chin. “I suppose I didn’t want to press you too hard.”

“Until I had proven my loyalty.”

“Baldly stated, yes. It’s never a good thing to shame someone who has the power to overthrow you.”

“Thank you for your consideration, but if you understood the Ryss, you would realize that I owe you blood debt for my entire race. I can no more betray you, or humanity, than you could murder a child. A million children. Power doesn’t even enter the equation.”

“Ouch. But thank you for explaining that. Forgive me for doubting.”

Desolator’s tone smiled. “I understand, though, that it is your responsibility as a commander to be skeptical. I take no offense.”

“Good. I had always wondered about the orientation of the Weapon, the laser on Afrana’s moon, and why it pointed straight toward the planet. It wasn’t just to keep the Sekoi in line, was it?”

“You are correct. As I wandered the stars, I developed a primitive tactic to take advantage of the stardrive that I had and the Meme did not. I am sure other Ryss warships did the same on their one-way raiding journeys. I would enter a Meme system and pause, usually near a gas giant. Then, I would select a target, normally the most populous world, take the time to recharge the stardrive, and use it to skip past all defenses to a position above the planet. I would deploy an Exploder, wipe out all higher life, and then fight my way out.”

“That’s why you were so battle-scarred when you arrived,” Absen observed.

“Yes. But in one system I observed the Meme installing a Weapon on the moon of a planet, and deduced their intention, which was to destroy me or anything else that arrived suddenly.”

“It was a Ryss-killer,” Absen said. “Even if they couldn’t stop you bombing the planet, they could hammer you with a laser of enough power to destroy even you, before you could get away.”

“Yes. I believe it was by this method that the Ryss dreadnought raiders were eventually destroyed. Between the Weapon or Weapons in a system, and Guardian Monitors, our marauders would have been picked off one by one while the main Meme fleets captured our systems. The enemy was just too numerous.”

Absen added, “And because their shipbuilding methods don't rely on a machine economy, Ryss wiping out Meme enslaved worlds didn’t actually degrade their war-making capability very much.”

Again that pause, just briefly. “That is very astute. I had not made that connection.” Embarrassment crept into Desolator’s voice. “Then the Ryss used an incorrect strategy.”

“I’d have to agree. They failed to identify the foundation of Meme power, which is not their worlds, but rather, their spacegoing warships. Those can feed and reproduce without ever coming near a life-bearing planet. That’s an enormous advantage. But,” Absen waved his index finger like a teacher, “now you have the same advantage. You, Desolator, are the machine version of their living ships, and freed from the restrictions organics placed on you, you can reproduce much like they can.”

“Yes, Admiral. You give me much to think about.”

“Glad to be of service, and thanks for answering my questions.”

“I serve the Ryss, and the Ryss serve humanity.”

Absen waved his hand in the air as if shooing flies. “I appreciate that, but I’d rather have partners – brother warriors, if you will – than servants.”

“You do us all honor, Admiral. Blood debt, remember.”

“I remember.” He walked away from the wall to lay a hand on one of the sarcophagi. “Thank you, my friend. My brother warrior.”

“I thank you, Admiral, my friend, my brother warrior.”