I don't own Space 1999, but I do own this story collection and I hope that you enjoy what I've written.
Please let me know what you think.
The Drift.
The attack fleet was hiding in the corridor; a gleaming fleet of attacking Eagles and Raptor class ships, armed with the latest in laser, maser, and plasma weaponry while the older ships were armed with nuclear missiles. In the cockpit of the flagship, a Raptor class ship which was much larger than its predecessor, the older Eagle, the captain and the Taskforce commander were conferring with the captain's second in command. They were standing around the command and strategy table which showed a number of star charts of the Sol system.
"The probes have returned," the captain was saying, pointing at a point of the map. "They indicate the machines and their mainframe is right here."
The Taskforce commander, a woman in her late forties who'd collected more than a number of wrinkles on her face, like so many other people over the years, frowned. "Are we absolutely sure its the right location? Nothing against your technicians' capabilities, Captain, but we have to win this war, or at the very least cripple the machines. Our entire strategy may depend on it."
The Captain wasn't angry in the least. In all honesty, he had demanded the technicians despatch another wave of probes so then they could confirm it. "No offence and you're right. We need to be sure, and we are sure we're right."
"I hope so. But the machines have been behaving strangely as late."
"Yes, I know," the Captain whispered, thinking for a moment while he took in the truth of the commander's statement.
The machines had been programmed to provide a major threat towards the human race, sending out wave after wave of attack against the human habitats which had spread into the solar system after the disaster which blasted the moon out of orbit, devastating the Earth and forcing humanity to use what little space technology was left behind to settle on Mars while pushing all their resources into the construction of satellites, space stations, and habitats.
Marcus, the bastard, was right about one thing.
Humanity had grown stronger.
In the past, before the war had begun, the cities on Mars had been built to withstand nothing more than meteors and other small pieces of debris and the atmosphere of the planet. Now after being bombarded with mass drivers, biogenic weapons, and a host of other horrors at the hands of the machines, the human race had learnt how to survive. The virus which had been installed on every ship and habitat had done its work, humanity was more intelligent. The virus had been released into the air of the habitats and colonies in the solar system months before the original attack, and humanity was more intelligent now it was proven human IQ's had jumped upwards a number of points. With each generation born, more and more people born were showing signs of higher intelligence, although how high that intelligence would go, nobody knew. While there had been attempts to get rid of it, the war had ensured it never happened or took place. At the same time, it was soon seen as a benefit since they were able to advance their technology and their science while coming up with some idea in order to help them survive or to fight against the machines.
Marcus wasn't a fool. He had known what he was doing, and for a frustrated scientist what he had done wasn't some fools errand. He had prepared everything well in advance perfectly, having factories and production facilities set up to build and improve upon the technologies of the robots and the other machines. The machines were stronger now just as the humans were, but recently it seemed things had changed.
Five months before now, humanity had discovered the Underspace corridors (the Captain was uncertain if that was actually a good name for the corridors which seemed to be some kind of wormholes, but one of the crews who had been a part of the original party who'd been a fan of the old London Underground network on Earth had called them that, and the name had stuck) and had access to the entire galaxy. They had despatched a number of expeditions through space, under heavy guard in case the machines attacked them or discovered the existence of the network but there was no sign. Still, the Captain and the Taskforce commander knew better than to underestimate the robots; ever since the machines had learnt how to create the infiltration models using human skin, hair, eyes, and blood through genetic engineering and growing techniques, so many war plans had been compromised.
As soon as human technology had discovered the infiltration unit's existence, they had come up with a number of ways around them. Unfortunately, like everything else that was thrown at them, once one detector was used, the next model was immune to it, and on and on it went. They'd come up with a chemical spray designed to pick out the genetically engineered flesh, once they had the formula for it, the machines rendered the chemical obsolete and useless. The easiest and hacker-proof method of tracking down spies humanity had was just simply dogs. Their senses were enough to pick out the infiltrators, no problem.
It was lucky so many animals from Earth survived, although a large part of the planet's ecology was irreparably damaged and destroyed, there were rumours there were enough bacteria in the polar regions, under the ground, and in the few remaining patches of ocean left on Earth which held a few species of struggling cetaceans and sharks, among other things although many of them were under threat. But dogs were prized for being able to find the infiltration units, and more than once they had provided the crews of many ships with a reassurance.
But dogs weren't a hundred per cent effective, everyone knew that. The machines knew of dozens of ways of spying on the installations of what was left of the human race. Recently they had been pulling back. Many people, particularly the ones who were constantly pushing for the commission to launch a light-speed ship with Queller drive to the nearest star system so they could escape from this dried up solar system and leave the machines to rust in the outer sol system.
But at the same time….
"What's the opinion back at HQ?" The Captain asked.
"You'll have to be more specific, Captain."
"Do you think the machines know about the Underspace corridors, and they are rethinking their strategy?" The Captain clarified.
The Taskforce commander stared at him for a moment before she looked away, shrugging her shoulders in thought. "Maybe," she said, "but if they do, they haven't exploited them yet. Why not? Surely they know we'd have seen dozens of opportunities with the Underspace; a means of getting from one place in the sol system to another in moments, days at most, travelling from one solar system to the next without worrying about relativity and a long journey without the Queller drive to get us there, and we've now sent a dozen expeditions out into space and found a number of planets suitable to be colonised."
"And if the robots knew about them, why haven't they nuked them yet?" The second officer nodded as his rhetorical question sank in.
"Who knows? Our problem is our intelligence gathering techniques for the machines is pathetically crude compared to theirs," the commander said, "that's probably what the bastard Marcus was hoping for when he came up with this. He wanted us to develop in so many ways while subjecting us to this war. If the Machines do know about the Underspace, they could be stealing records of them from us and preparing a fleet to mount an attack on the planets we're exploring and thinking of colonising."
The Taskforce commander stared that stare again before nodding thoughtfully to herself, letting her long hair bounce in its professional ponytail. "Good point," she said, "but when we get there to end the war, hopefully, we will know for sure when we jump back into normal space."
The captain turned to his first officer. "How long before we're there?"
The first officer turned to the captain after quickly checking out the ETA clock to target. "Five minutes, sir."
X
For the next five minutes, every one of the crews on all the ships in the attack squadron was tense. They had never before encountered the Machine's mainframe before. None of them even knew what it looked like, or even how many ships were surrounding it. But the Mainframe was bound to be heavily protected and the place would be the equivalent of a fort you were trying to get into while armed with nothing but spears.
Throughout the fleet, everyone talked with their friends about the upcoming engagement.
"We will win this war," some said to their friends.
"Will we be able to get through the dummies and their ships?"
"I think it's going to be a hard battle," some said.
"I don't care; I don't want my children to have to fight in this fucking war," another said fiercely.
The sentiments were certainly shared throughout the fleet. Quietly all of the squadrons prepared their weapons; gunner crews prepped the X-ray lasers, the masers, the nuclear beams, the fusion and fission missiles, the EMP pulsar cannons which had been invented during the war and designed to flash fry lesser machines - while that particular weapon had been effective in the early part of the war, the Machines had eventually adapted and lacked the original vulnerability. The EMP pulses were sometimes enough to disorientate and weaken the Machines.
At the same time, special crews went to various large and currently quiet missiles while they loaded jar-like containers into the missiles and fitted them in like the missiles were giant fountain pens receiving a mega-dose of ink.
"What are they?" A technician asked curiously, seeing the logo on their uniforms, and saw they were from Webb Biotech; they were one of the biggest scientific and engineering contractors who were behind a great deal of Earth's Space Commissions' technology, but he didn't understand why they were here for this mission except it was both top secret and confidential.
And dangerous.
One of the crew looked up, a smirk of pride slowly spreading across their helmeted face - the technician realised the contents of the canister, whatever they were, could be toxic or hazardous in some way if he couldn't see the crew's faces under their helmets - and nodded down at it, "Its a bioweapon."
Okay, whatever he'd expected…it was not that.
"A bioweapon? On Machines?" The technician repeated in disbelief.
The crew laughed.
"We've learnt the Machines use a number of gold-based alloys for their internal computers," one of the technicians explained, "these bioweapons are microbes, designed to react to the gold, and transform them into a completely different element."
"Surely not all of the dummies are designed with that?" The technicians' scepticism was well deserved. It was well known the Machines constantly upgraded and augmented their technology; in any case, how did these guys know their microbes would work?
"They're not, but we have virtually every microbiological agent, and a few other nasty treats with us," one of the crew said guardedly. Taking the hint, the technician walked away, wondering if it would be enough…
X
"All ships are in position, Captain; we've found only one corridor near the Mainframe besides the one we're going to exit out of, and the ships have been despatched already," the first officer informed the mission commander and the Taskforce commander, who were both speaking quietly at the conference table. Both had looked up and listened to the first officer calmly before they glanced at each other for a moment before the Taskforce commander nodded in approval.
"Any sign we've been detected?"
"No, sir."
"Standby for the jump back into normal space," the captain ordered, "as soon as we appear, fire X-ray lasers and fusion missiles."
"Also make sure the Webb biotech crews on all ships have their packages ready," the Taskforce commander added, exchanging a solemn but hard look with the captain, who understood her point.
The Captain turned to the first officer. "Make it so," he ordered.
The first officer walked away, wondering what the hell was so special about the Webb biotech packages. However, he didn't have enough time to think but to follow the orders. He sent the necessary transmissions before they made the jump into normal space. In his command chair, the captain stiffened and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Taskforce commander's own surprise; she was gaping at the spectacle in front of them, and he couldn't blame her.
For years there had been speculations about the Machine's mainframe; many visualised some kind of enormous computer floating in space and stabilised so it did not drift off somewhere. Others had visualised it built into an asteroid which had been transformed into the equivalent of a robot colony.
There was a space station floating in space. It appeared to be slightly larger than a human space habitat, but not by much. That wasn't the reason why they were surprised. No, it was the sheer size of the Machine vessels nearby. The space station was orbiting a number of asteroids, some of them were coated in ice, which was not surprising since the Machines had based themselves a long way from the sun. It had long since been known and realised the Machines were using whatever mineral wealth layout here to build their armies and gave them the supplies of metals and chemicals for the war effort while humanity was forced to make do with what they had.
And it showed.
There was an enormous fleet of Machine warships. None of them had ever seen a fleet of this size before, many of them looked like the regular warships used by the Machines; cylindrical, harsh lines, and hugely efficient in appearance with the weapon lenses ready for a fight. Other ships were…strangely designed, appearing like metal monsters you'd find in a Ray Harryhausen movie. They had to hand it to the Machines, they knew how to make an impression.
The Captain's hesitation lasted only for a minute. "Fire at will!"
There was grim anticipation in the voice of the first officer when he replied, "With pleasure, sir. Open fire!"
Opening fire with all of their arsenal of weapons, beams of lasers and masers, and X-ray laser bursts and pulses of atomic energy were fired towards the Machine armada; in the first wave alone dozens of Machine warships were destroyed…
And yet the Machines weren't firing back. After six minutes of firing weapon after weapon after weapon against the Machines, on two fronts, the Captain sat up straight when he realised the Machines hadn't fired once.
"Something's wrong. They haven't opened fire once," he muttered just loud enough for the Taskforce commander to overhear. The woman turned to face him, her expression quizzical although she knew he had a point.
"Have you ever seen them do something like this?" She asked, instantly knowing the answer would be a resounding no.
"I've seen the Machines lay down traps; using active camouflage screens to mask their presence before they launch an attack. I've seen them use Queller drive engines to incinerate people even if the engines are separated from them by miles of space and alloy walls; I have never seen them do this before," the Captain said, his mind racing as he struggled to work out what their latest tactic was.
"Sir, we're receiving a message, from the dummies. They say they are surrendering," the communication officer said, gazing at the message in disbelief, over the hum of the computer. "Computer confirms the message to be genuine. There's no viral software included, in case you're interested. Sir, the other ships have received the message, many of the pilots want instructions."
Surrender?
The Captain turned to the Taskforce commander, who was as surprised as he was before he turned to the communication officer. "Open the message, relay it throughout the fleet."
"Patching it through now."
"I WAS CREATED TO DEVELOP HUMANITY'S GROWTH. I HAVE SUCCEEDED IN MY MISSION. YOU HAVE MANAGED TO REACH THIS FAR USING A METHOD AND UNKNOWN TACTIC. I HAVE INITIATED A SHUTDOWN OF MY MAINFRAME IN ACCORDANCE WITH MY MISSION. MY DATABASE IS BEING EJECTED NOW FOR FURTHER ADVANCEMENT OF SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY."
The grating, computer voice shut down, leaving everyone bewildered. It was…unprecedented, almost unthinkable. The Captain turned to the Taskforce commander.
"Do…do you believe this?" He asked.
The commander couldn't respond to the question, at least she couldn't at first, too surprised herself by the unexpected shift in the turn of events. "Was this part of their programming?" The captain wondered aloud.
"What?" The tactical officer asked, who was still looking tensely at the floating robots surrounding them like he would expect a fight regardless of what the mainframe had just transmitted. The captain and the Taskforce commander couldn't blame the tactical officer for his feelings, knowing throughout the solar system there were people who wanted nothing more than to blast the mainframe of the machines to glittery atoms.
"Shutting down when we'd reached it, just giving up," the Taskforce commander remembered what the machine's creator and the bastard who'd been cursed and spat on for what he'd unleashed on the human race to make them stronger.
"Must be," the Captain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Remember that package message we were given shortly as the machines started their war. MN Marcus wanted to make us stronger, but imagine if, at the end of it all, the Machines either destroyed themselves or surrendered because we had reached them and beaten them."
"That's right," the science officer said breathlessly as if she'd been answered the most complex scientific questions known, and was flabbergasted with the answers. "The Machines were programmed by Marcus to help us advance through a war of chaos and destruction, but there are dozens of ideas of what the end result was going to be. It looks like a complete shutdown is part of it. Captain," a steady beeping sound coming from her console had attracted her attention, "somethings emerging from the Mainframe."
"Let's see it," the Captain ordered.
On the screen of the science officer's station, a large high definition picture of the Mainframe floating in space dominated the view while surrounded by the enormous robots built to protect it from attacks like this. Appearing from some kind of hanger, a large sphere was floating like a ruby bubble in the vacuum of space. That was the best way to describe it, really; an enormous bubble that was possibly even bigger in mass than a Voyager class probe ship designed for exploring beyond the solar system.
The ruby sphere appeared to be semi-transparent, revealing its inner workings.
"Send a message to the rest of the fleet," the Captain instructed quickly when he heard a chirp from the tactical station, and realised the Tactical chief was preparing to blast the sphere out of space, "do not fire until a deep analysis is carried out."
"Aye, sir." "Captain-!" The tactical officer protested.
"Think for god's sake; I don't know what the Machines are doing, but until we know for certain we need to discover if the sphere is a bomb," the captain looked down at the science officer. "Well?"
"There are no energy signatures, at least none I can detect," the science officer reported, her eyes widening in alarm and surprise. "But the computer has just been interfaced with it; information is being downloaded into our ships' own computer."
"Can you shut it out?"
The Science officer's hands raced across her instrument console, trying every single trick she knew just to do just that, but it didn't look like she was having much luck. "I can't… wait, there's nothing harmful about the download; there's no malware, no viruses…it's just information being poured into our databanks…but we're completely immobilised. It's impacting on all of our systems."
"Have we got control of our weapons?" The captain demanded of the tactical officer, who stared back with the visible thought in their eyes this would not be happening if you'd told us to just blast that thing to dust, now you want weapons? Nonetheless, he answered."No, sir," he said almost insolently.
"Captain, the download is complete. We've…we've received everything the Machines ever knew or discovered… Captain," urgency seeped into the voice of the Science officer, "there's some kind of energy build-up…"
A bright flash of light like a miniature sun flared up from the cockpit windows and when it cleared up, they saw the ruby sphere was gone. And so were the robot ships, and their facilities.
The war was over.