Extinction

“Incoming Message: You are not permitted to fire on Macro ships.”

“We are only permitted to destroy enemy ships,” I said.

“Incoming Message: You are not permitted to fire on Macro ships.”

“Macro ships that fire on any friendly ship are automatically reclassified as rogues. Rogue ships are enemy ships, and therefore will be fired upon.”

Another pause. This time I didn’t look at Sandra, but I sensed she was having some kind of fit in her seat. She probably wasn’t comfortable with the fact I was threatening them.

“Incoming Message: Your ship has been reclassified as a rogue.”

“Explain your reasoning for this reclassification.”

“Incoming Message: Earth-system vessels are not permitted to leave Earth- system.”

“I have reviewed the terms of our treaty. No such terms have been stipulated, or agreed to.”

“Incoming Message: Agreement modified.”

“The new terms of our agreement are accepted. Now, allow us to exit this system so we can comply with the new agreement.”

“Incoming Message: Exit the system immediately. Session terminated.”

“Socorro, cut transmissions. Close channel.”

A loud expulsion of breath came from Sandra. I wondered how long she had been holding it. “Kyle, you crazy macho-”

“You have to talk to them like that,” I said, cutting her off gently. “They are like predatory beasts. They come at you, planning to eat you, but a brave front may make them uncertain. In this case they turned around.”

“Maybe,” she said eyeing the big screen in front of us.

I followed her gaze. None of the ships had changed course.

“How long until they are in firing range, Socorro?”

“Two Macro ships are in range now,” said the ship.

I nodded. No one was firing. “Macro speed and course?”

“They are decelerating, but the course of each vessel remains unchanged.”

“Will they get to the ring before we do?”

“If deceleration continues at present rate, four of them will reach the ring within one second of our arrival.”

“They mean to escort us back to our system,” said Sandra.

“That’s very thoughtful of them,” I said. I smiled at her.

She shook her head. “That was totally amazing. You’ve regained your co-shower privileges.”

“Is that all?”

“What more do you want?” she asked playfully.

Sandra could turn a scowl into a flirt in ten seconds flat. I loved that about her. “Do you have a twin sister?” I asked.

She looked for something to throw at me, but couldn’t find anything, so she crossed her arms and pouted in her chair for a while. I could tell she wasn’t really upset.

I ordered the Socorro to turn us around again and gently brake the rest of the way to the ring. The Macro ships shadowed us. They meant to meet us and head through together. I sensed they weren’t in the mood for any more funny business. Machines are sticklers for their rules.

I climbed out of my pilot chair with difficulty. I took careful steps under what felt like one G of steady, crosswise force. I used my chair to support myself, and when I’d gone as far as I could that way I sprang from the seat to hang onto a set of handholds I’d placed here and there around the ship. The handholds were rungs in the walls, like cheap towel-racks, but much stronger. I grunted as I worked my way to a spot in the wall and touched it. The metal melted at my touch.

“Where the heck are you going?” Sandra asked finally, watching my efforts to enter the kitchen area. “Don’t tell me you are hungry now.”

I came back out after a minute or so of struggling against the acceleration to get the fridge open. A G of sideways force would have been even more difficult to deal with if my muscles hadn’t been enhanced. As it was I felt heavy, as if I were in a diving suit at the bottom of the ocean.

I came back to the bridge and jumped back to my command chair. I handed Sandra a can of beer then popped mine open. It bubbled weakly. At lot of the stuff in the fridge had been bashed around, but cans always seemed to hold up well under G-forces.

“A celebration,” I said.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Life-while we’re still breathing.”

“I’ll drink to that,” she said, and she tipped her can back. Streams of beer flowed over her cheeks and wet her hair. She patted at the mess and complained. Drinking when G-forces are pushing you back in your chair was an art form she hadn’t yet mastered.

“It’s warm,” she said after a quiet minute. We were close to the ring now.

“Yeah. I think it’s the radiation from the blue giant. The kitchen isn’t shielded.”

“Is it okay to drink this stuff?”

I finished my beer, then tilted my head to one side and crushed my can. I kept crushing it down until it was about the size of a sugar cube. Can-crushing had become a habit of mine.

“Don’t worry about the radiation,” I said. “We’ll have the nanites do a rework on us at the cellular level when we get home.”

“Will that hurt?”

“Hell yeah.”

Then we flew into the ring, and everything changed.

— 31-

I hadn’t slowed the ship down enough to safely reenter Venus’ atmosphere. We’d been decelerating, but there was no speedometer on my Nano ship, and using imprecise verbal commands such as take us in slowly proved too vague in this instance. The ship had no scripts or experience to safety-check my decisions when going through a ring. Things went badly.

When I later regained consciousness, I estimated we went through the ring at about Mach 1. That’s a very slow speed in astronomical terms, but when hitting a thick, soupy atmosphere it was much too fast. What passed for air on Venus was similar to water on Earth. Hitting it at speed was like plunging a jetliner into the ocean. We didn’t even slide along the surface, we dove smack into it.

I think what saved us was the thickening of the hull around the bridge. Other areas of the ship were wrecked. When I woke up, drifting over Venus in my crash seat, the forward wall was dented in and blank.

“Socorro?” I asked.

“Responding.”

I felt a moment of relief. At least the brainbox had survived.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Unknown.”

“Why is the forward wall blank?” I asked. As I looked at it, I became increasingly alarmed. It wasn’t only blank, it had big creases in it, lines that poked in toward us menacingly.

“Emergency procedures have reprioritized nanite formation settings. Resetting to standard settings.”

“No,” I said hurriedly. I didn’t know what the emergency priorities were, but I figured they were a good idea right now. “Maintain all emergency priorities.”

“Acknowledged.”

I tried to unbuckle myself with my right arm, but my hand didn’t work properly. I felt bones grind. I figured out my right thumb must be broken. I sweated as I pulled it straight and set it with a click. The nanites in my body