Judas Unchained

The violence of the explosion was extraordinary. MorningLightMountain thought the sensors on its ships were simultaneously malfunctioning. The surface of Hanko’s sun heaved. A titanic crater bulged downward into the photosphere, overwhelming the still-rising flare. From the center, a gigantic sphere of plasma leaped upward, as if the star were giving birth to an infant of its own kind. Hard radiation from the middle of the explosion sliced clean through the force fields on every ship MorningLightMountain had sent through to provide cover, vaporizing them instantly.

For a moment MorningLightMountain had no way of knowing what was happening to Hanko’s star. When it reopened the wormhole five million kilometers away and cautiously extended sensors through, it saw the photosphere crater wall collapsing, sending a circular wave racing out across the star’s surface. The plasma sphere had separated from the corona, racing into space at near-relativistic speed and expanding fast. MorningLightMountain could no longer detect the flare amid the conflagration raging within the corona. Nor was their any indication of the quantum effect that its machine produced.

MorningLightMountain was shocked by the scale of the event. It had no idea that humans had such a powerful weapon available. They were far more dangerous than it had ever suspected. For the first time since the barrier came down, it began to question the advisability of its actions.

“It works,” Tunde said, a cautious grin on his face. “The flare’s been wiped out.”

“Lost under a much greater radiation discharge,” Rafael said.

Everyone in the office was riveted on the sensor imagery provided by the Dublin, which was now standing off ten million kilometers from Hanko’s star. Wilson watched sluggish waves spreading out across the corona from the quantumbuster detonation, then the size registered, and he realized they weren’t sluggish at all. The star’s prominences were writhing wildly as the magnetic field oscillated. Two million kilometers above the dissipating depression, the sphere of plasma had now reached the same diameter as Saturn, and was cooling rapidly. Its cohesion was breaking down, allowing it to spew off ephemeral rivers of waning ions as bright as a comet’s tail. The hard radiation emission from the center of the explosion was also reducing. Even at ten million kilometers, the Dublin’s force field had been badly strained to maintain cohesion under the impact.

“But a shorter one,” Tunde countered immediately. “And the inverse square law works to our advantage here. Hanko is an AU away, after all.”

“There was no alternative,” Natasha said. “This way the planets get a chance at overall biological survival.”

“I know,” Rafael said grimly. “I’m sorry, I wanted a solution that was less damaging for us.”

“But it is a solution,” Wilson said. “And the only one we’ve got. Anna, I want the starships to launch quantumbusters at every flare. Snuff them out.”

“Yes, sir. There are nine star systems out of the forty-eight which don’t have starship coverage.” She sounded upset at having to remind him.

“Damnit. Send ships in from wherever you can.”

“Fleet Command is working out the quickest flight patterns now.”

The office tactical display showed starships going FTL to leave their planetary orbits. Wilson allowed himself to believe they would all be in time, that the flare radiation damage would be minimal. He knew that even if it was, even if the majority of the biosphere on each world survived, the inhabitants would want to leave. People would be terrified. Quite rightly. There would be a flood of refugees to the other side of the Commonwealth. Planetary governments would be unable to cope. There were still huge problems housing and supporting the existing refugees from the Lost23.

“Can we shut down the CST network?” he asked the President. Nigel Sheldon still hadn’t returned. His stationary image lurked in the office like a ghost at the proceedings. Wilson was starting to wonder if the Dynasty chief was running for his lifeboat.

“Excuse me?” Doi asked.

“We have to block any kind of mass panic escape from the worlds under attack. The rest of the Commonwealth won’t be able to deal with the population of forty-eight planets on the move. I doubt even CST can transport that many people.”

“If they stay they’ll suffer radiation sickness. You can’t make them endure that, and I’m certainly not going to enforce it.”

“Nobody inside a force field will come to any harm.”

“And what about people outside?”

“We’re getting reports that the CST stations have closed on most of the worlds under attack,” Rafael said.

“What?”

“It looks like Wessex has cut off all its links to phase two space.”

Both Wilson and Doi turned to Nigel Sheldon’s image. Wilson tried to send a message to the Dynasty chief’s unisphere level two private address, which was rejected. “Damn you. What are you doing?”

“Using CST wormholes to interfere with the Prime ones, I expect,” Rafael said.