Звезда Пандоры

“You threaten me. You will be destroyed.”

“We state facts. It will not be possible for you to destroy us. Nor will you be able to destroy many other civilizations which exist within this galaxy. You must learn how to coexist with us.”

“That is a contradiction in terms. There is only one universe, it can contain only one life.”

“This is not a contradiction. You are simply inexperienced with such a concept. We assure you it is possible.”

“You are betraying yourself by believing this. Life grows, it expands. This is inevitable. It is what I am.”

“True life evolves. You can change.”

“No.”

“You must change.”

“I will not. I will grow. I will learn. I will surpass you. I will destroy you, both of you.”

Mellanie was aware of a change in the nature of the signals coming through the wormholes to fall upon the planet. MorningLightMountain was giving the soldier motiles on the landing ships distinct orders, then disengaging them from its communications web. While they didn’t have a great deal of independent capability, a soldier motile could certainly follow simple target instructions and use its own combat systems without direct real-time supervision.

Sixteen flyers launched from the two landing ships. They accelerated forward at five gees. Targeting sensors swept across Randtown, bright as searchlights to Mellanie’s broadened perception.

“Grandpa!” she yelled.

A circular wormhole opened behind her, a tiny distortion point hovering a meter above the road that produced a curious twisted magnification effect in the air. It swiftly expanded out to a neutral-gray circle two meters in diameter. Mellanie jumped through.

Two seconds later, sixteen atom lasers intersected the empty air where she’d been standing.

Mellanie picked herself up off the grass, blinking against the warm light even as she winced at the pain in her knee from a bad landing. Her skin was cooling, its platinum luster slowly reverting to the healthy tan she maintained thanks to her expensive Augusta salon. Her body’s reactions were also receding, her racing heart slowing, the shakes calming. So much for the inserts giving her a sensation of invincibility.

Behind her, the wormhole gateway was built into a smooth rock cliff. Some kind of triangular canvas awning was stretched overhead. In front of her… Mellanie forgot all about bruised knees, and nearly fell over. Her balance was horribly wrong, and the land curved up over her head. Giddiness that was close to seasickness hit her hard.

“Where the hell am I?” she squawked.

“Don’t be alarmed,” the SI said. “This is the only available wormhole generator in the Commonwealth that could reach you.”

“Uh—” Someone had really gone to town on the vast cylinder’s landscape. It was all giant mountains with waterfalls foaming down long tracts of rock. Big lakes and rivers filled the valley floors. The sunlight emerged from a single spindle running down the axis. “This isn’t the High Angel,” she said.

“Of course not.”

“But it’s got artificial gravity. We can’t do that. Is it an alien space station?”

“It is a human-built structure, belonging to someone of considerable wealth. The gravity effect comes from simple rotation, like the Second Chance life-support wheel.”

“Oh, right, yeah. I didn’t do science at school.”

“You didn’t do school, baby Mel.”

“Thanks, good timing on the reminder, there, Grandpa. So who lives here?”

“The owner guards his privacy. But given the circumstances I don’t expect he will protest your visit. I have now reprogrammed the wormhole to take you to Augusta. Please step through.”

Mellanie was still staring around the interior. “It’s fantastic. And it’s got a private wormhole?” She smiled happily. “Ozzie.”

“You will respect his privacy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She stopped. The adrenaline rush that had supported her through the confrontation in Randtown had finally worn off. When she held a hand up there was no sign of any OCtattoo. “What about the convoy?”

“They have all reached the Highmarsh Valley.”

“But—the navy won’t evacuate them for days. That alien monster will kill every one of them.”

“It will attempt that, yes.”

“Open the wormhole back into the Highmarsh. We’ve got to get them out of there.”

“That is an impractical suggestion. This wormhole is small. The Randtown refugees would have to step through one at a time. The process would take hours, and provide MorningLightMountain with a perfect targeting opportunity.”

“Open it!”

Wilson’s tactical display showed him the electronic warfare aerobots launching from Treloar. Five of them flew out in a pincer movement through the smog to surround the Prime ground troops spreading out from Scraptoft. The alien positions were overlaid by webs of orange and jade as their strange communications flashed between them. Their intermittent, seemingly random bursts reminded Wilson of synaptic discharges between individual neurons.