The Sphere Imperium: Book Two of the Intentional Contact Trilogy Read online

  THE SPHERE

  IMPERIUM

  Book Two of the

  Intentional Contact Trilogy

  By B.D. Stewart

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by B. D. Stewart

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author.

  Published by 112 Degrees West, Phoenix

  Cover art by Danijel Firak

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9996955-1-7

  DEDICATION

  For Dad.

  A son could not love

  his father more.

  CONTENTS

  Historical Evolution

  Iota Sequence:

  Thieves in the Night

  Kappa Sequence:

  The Argonauts

  Lambda Sequence:

  Surprise, Surprise

  Mu Sequence:

  Stolen

  Nu Sequence:

  Old Intentions, New Deals

  Xi Sequence:

  Caught in the Wake

  Omicron Sequence:

  Into the Fray

  Pi Sequence:

  The Great Escape

  Historical Evolution

  7,000,000 BCE: Primitive Human ancestors climb down from the trees and scamper out onto the African savannahs.

  4,200,000 BCE: Humans become bipedal with the evolution of a bowl-shaped pelvis. Larynx develops between the lungs and pharynx, a precondition for vocalized speech.

  1,280,000 BCE: Human grunts evolve into rudimentary language. Stone tools and cooking fires now in widespread use.

  110,000 BCE: Increase in brain size and complexity enable advanced traits such as woven clothing, art, and weapon hafting. Self-awareness emerges, leading to burial of dead and god belief.

  65,000 BCE: Humans evolve into tribal societies that spread northward from Africa to the Arabian Peninsula. Migration continues throughout Europe and most of Asia.

  28,500 BCE: Last tribe of Neanderthals die off in Upper France. Cro-Magnon man becomes the dominate Human species.

  14,000 BCE: Human tribes migrate across the frozen Bering Straits to North America, spreading south to the Andes. Large mammals such as the saber-toothed cat, giant sloth and mammoth driven to extinction as Humans become apex predator.

  3300 BCE: The first Human civilization, the Sumerians, create a cuneiform alphabet and written language. Farm irrigation combined with new food storage methods give rise to urbanized cities.

  2560 BCE: The Great Pyramid at Giza completed; Egyptian civilization at its peak.

  453 CE: The Roman Empire falls.

  1914: World War I begins. Six million people killed.

  1939: World War II begins. Forty-five million people killed.

  1965: Primitive Artificial Intelligences (AIs) emerge, enabling the development of spaceships. Exploration of the solar system begins.

  2092: Mars Colony established. Manned expeditions visit two of Jupiter’s moons.

  2205: New medical advances double Human lifespans.

  2341: The Machine War begins, as AI androids attempt to eradicate their Human creators. New York, Paris, Moscow, Beijing and New Delhi destroyed. Four billion people killed. After the androids are finally defeated, stringent Ironclad AI Laws put in place―no longer can AI-machines take Human form or commit any crime. Afterward, a golden age of Human/AI harmony unfolds.

  2462: FTL hyperdrives developed. Humans/AIs begin spreading through the stars.

  2714: Human/AI explorers encounter the K’klacken at Scoplex Omega. The First Interstellar War begins. Thirty-three billion people killed.

  2809: Sol Federation collapses. The Sphere Imperium emerges as the primary Human/AI empire.

  3368: The Second Interstellar War begins as predatory alien chlorotrophivores, later known as the Jarda Devourers, attack numerous Human/AI colonies. Over two hundred billion people killed.

  Now: Humans/AIs encounter the Form.

  Iota Sequence:

  Thieves in the Night

  Courier Ship Jasper One

  “Warning. You have entered licensed space of the Idex Mineral Consortium.” The voice was cold, mechanical. “Transmit valid entry code now or vacate this star system immediately. Trespassers will be prosecuted to the full extent of Imperium Law. You have ninety seconds to comply.”

  That announcement told the two people in the cockpit―a young, attractive woman and a not-so-handsome middle-aged man―they had just been passed the point of no return. No backing out now.

  With an impish grin, Quin Mercer pressed the green blinking send key on the console in front of him. “Transmitting entry code.”

  Sinja Ortize―athletic, bronze skin, her naturally platinum-blonde hair cut short, military style―watched Mercer closely. Eleven months of planning and sacrifices too unpleasant to remember had gone into this hijack attempt. They wouldn’t get another chance. “This had better work,” she warned.

  If it didn’t, she’d break Mercer’s neck for lying to her and proceed with Plan B. Sinja always came prepared.

  “It’ll work,” Mercer promised, appearing cool and relaxed on the outside. On the inside he was exhilarated, relishing the uncertainty. Would the guardian accept his expertly crafted Trojan worm code, or reject it and open fire? If the later happened, well then, if the guardian didn’t kill him Sinja probably would. Despite this dual threat of death, Mercer kept a calm façade. He knew the inner secrets of security systems as few could, having once been the preeminent cyber engineer for Tumbler Vault Works, the primary supplier of corporate defense grids . . . but that was then, seemingly a lifetime ago. Now he was working for the other side, a situation made necessary due to some exceedingly large gambling debts.

  Tense seconds ticked by as their courier ship sped toward the defense perimeter, inbound with an inherent velocity just above six thousand kilometers a second. The Cirtus Beta system they were attempting to infiltrate was surrounded by 32 CA-10 guardian satellites, all hyperlinked to one another, each patrolling its assigned sector of space. Nothing could cross the perimeter without entering the firing range of at least three. Mercer knew their sleek courier ship wouldn’t last a second against the 225mm fusion lances that should be locked on and targeting them. It was the best security system available, one he’d helped design. Only an Imperium warship could breach the defenses.

  “Entry code accepted,” the nearest CA-10 replied. “Welcome, Jasper One, to the Cirtus Beta system. Proceed on main channel trajectory to orbital platform Zeres Able.”

  Mercer slapped his hands together in a loud clap, ecstatic. “Yes, we’re in.”

  What they were “in” was the star system with the richest concentration of mineral wealth in recent history. The primary was Cirtus Beta, a K5 type orange star 10,128 light years coreward of the Sol system. Out on the fringe of known space, the Cirtus Beta system had first been explored by robotic reconnaissance probes of the Sphere Imperium seven years prior. With mechanical precision the probes had scanned, analyzed, and catalogued the local planets, moons, even the scattered asteroids and comets out in the Kuiper Belt, but they failed to find what they’d so diligently searched for: habitable worlds or life forms. The presence of either would have brought instant Class-1 status. Instead, the Cirtus Beta system was decreed Class-4: not viable for
colonization. As such, it was designated a natural resource open for exploitation to the highest bidder.

  Those bids were many. A few were outlandishly high. All because Cirtus Beta lay inside the Koi Nebula, a fish-shaped cloud of ionized gas and dust that formed after a neighboring red giant star went supernova some 2.8 million years ago. The stellar ejecta thrown out by that cosmic explosion had drenched the planets and moons of the Cirtus Beta system with rare isotopes and precious heavy metals. The system had these in superabundance; it was a rich mineral storehouse.

  The winning bid went to the Idex Mineral Consortium, a Dymekka-based corporation that paid an astounding eleven hundred gigacredits to secure total rights. Idex immediately went to work stripping the Cirtus Beta system, starting on the third planet first and peeling it, layer by precious layer, down to the mantle. The extracted pure-grade mineral commodities were shipped to the Inner Worlds by colossal hyperdrive ore haulers. The Sphere Imperium paid well for such high-quality resources, needing them to fuel its voracious war machine.

  The one-hundredth hauler shipment was scheduled to leave Cirtus Beta in six hours, at 0700.00 Galactic Standard, 10 May 3415.

  That ore hauler was the objective. Sinja had assembled a skilled and highly specialized team to hijack it. If everything went as planned, each team member would net over ten million credits. It would not be easy. Corporations guarded their assets with deadly force.

  The next obstacle was getting aboard Zeres Able, a mining platform in a tight orbit around the third planet. Zeres Able was immense, a rectangular monstrosity twenty kilometers long and nearly six wide, covered with boom cranes, intake manifolds, vast storage holds, field projectors, plus all the other various apparatus needed to peel a planet apart. From the orbital behemoth’s underside, neon-blue particle beams slashed back and forth across the airless world below, flailing barren crust. This allowed the snare fields to pull tonne after tonne of pulverized rock up from the planet and shunt it straight to the intake manifolds. Onward it went to robotic ore processors. Once the desired metals, isotopes, and select radioactives were electromagnetically sifted out, the waste dust was blown out exhaust pipes that rose high above Zeres Able like smokestacks atop ocean-going vessels from an era long past, wrapping the planet with nebulous, smoke-colored rings. This strip mining went on nonstop.

  They approached Zeres Able with care, following corporate procedures unerringly. Sinja had taken every precaution, and their courier ship was a near-perfect replica of those used by Idex, ironically stolen from a rival consortium and meticulously modified. A new name had been emblazoned across the bow: Jasper One. Beneath it was the red-and-green stylized Idex logo.

  The inside man, Bristol Dupree, hailed them right on schedule. “Greetings, Jasper One. Welcome to our humble abode.”

  Sinja recited her part in a dialogue that had been scripted by Dupree. “We thank you for the warm welcome, Zeres Able. I hear it’s real nice and quiet out here, with pay one point six standard.”

  Dupree snorted with fake indignation. “Not high enough if you ask me. We get glitches and power-down failures every shift. These Darby snares are a real pain.”

  “That’s why we’re here. We’ve got the cure for your troubles.”

  Sinja and her team were posing as an engineer crew sent to upgrade the snare fields. Dupree had received the proper orders a week ago from Corporate HQ, completely fictional, yet perfect in every detail down to Jasper One’s ID codes and passenger list. No one aboard the platform had any reason to suspect something was amiss. They were in for one hell of a surprise.

  “Power down for docking,” Dupree said. “We’re bringing you in.”

  Sinja deactivated the engines and switched off the ship controls. Twenty seconds later, a snare beam from the mining platform grabbed onto Jasper One and began pulling the courier ship in. From this point forward, docking procedures were fully automated. She knew they had forty minutes to prepare for the next phase of their operation.

  “Time to gear up.” Sinja rose from her seat and left the cockpit, going aft into the passenger compartment. Mercer followed her.

  The passenger compartment could accommodate thirty, but only one seat was currently occupied. In it sat the fourth and final member of Sinja’s team―a large, muscular, quiet man called Datch. No last name . . . just Datch, plain and simple.

  Unlike Mercer, Sinja trusted him completely. He was, after all, her stepbrother. To most people Datch was an enigma, his face frozen in an emotionless mask. Plus, he didn’t talk much, never had. Sinja knew that Datch’s silence was caused by years of abuse from his father, the man her mother had married when Sinja was eight. A man whose last name Datch refused to call his own. A man-beast whose temper one soon learned to fear.

  In that cruel, unforgiving household, Sinja and Datch became close out of mutual terror. Now in their early thirties, they were the only family each other had. Both truly believed they were all each other needed.

  Datch was an expert in small arms and hand-to-hand combat, with a solid background in explosives. Skills learned during a five-year stint in the Imperium Marines. Despite his proven ability to take care of himself, Sinja still felt she needed to watch out for him. Sisterly instinct, she guessed.

  After a quick nod to Datch, Sinja went to her weapon locker, pressed her right thumb against its DNA lock, and looked inside as the door slid open. She pulled out a black, police-style utility belt and buckled it around her waist, then opened a storage case with a stun pistol inside, making sure it had a full charge before sliding the pistol into her hip holster. Next, Sinja took out her primary weapon, a Ziegler & Koch RZ-11 fusion rifle. She slung the RZ-11 over her shoulder and across her back, adjusting its carry strap until it was securely mounted. The rifle blended perfectly with her dark-gray camouflage fatigues. Over Sinja’s other shoulder went a bandolier with assorted grenades and extra power cartridges for her rifle. A black shrapnel helmet plus Zeiss armor-glass goggles with night vision and thermal enhancement completed her gear.

  Datch was similarly equipped, except for one additional item: a backpack loaded with specialty devices for emergency situations. Sinja had tried to anticipate everything that might possibly go wrong.

  Sinja gave Mercer a stun pistol only since he was a poor shot. He was a cyber systems expert, not hired muscle. Any fighting that occurred would be left to her and/or Datch. Though if everything went as smoothly as she had planned, there’d be no fighting at all.

  Sinja distributed comm earplugs to the other two then inserted one of the devices into her left ear canal. The units were synched to each other and would allow them to talk privately through rotating, encrypted channels. Short range as they used old-tech AM frequencies, but no one should notice them because of it. The lower their electronic footprint, the better.

  Geared up and ready, the three of them waited inside the main airlock as Jasper One was pulled into a docking tube. They felt a slight shudder as the ship came to a stop. Mooring gaffs swung out, latching on, anchoring Jasper One in place. A boarding gate telescoped out, sealing itself against the exterior side of the airlock, and then some faint hissing sounds were heard. Above the airlock a green light lit up, signaling it was safe to exit.

  With a pleasant warning chime, the outer door slid open.

  A smiling woman was waiting for them outside. “Welcome to Zeres Able. I’m Pollind Ca―”

  Datch fired before she finished the sentence. A 7mm stun bolt, like a tiny cobalt fireball, struck her right between the eyes. She twitched for a moment as sparks danced across her forehead, then, unconscious, she began falling forward. Datch caught her and gently lowered her limp body to the floor.

  Sinja bolted past them into the corridor beyond, racing for the stairwell at the far end. Reaching it, she darted inside and up the stairs taking them two at a time. Twelve flights of stairs she climbed. Datch chased after her, with Mercer farther back struggling to keep up.

  Elevators were intentionally avoided, as the platform�
�s automated defense system could trap them inside. That happened to Sinja nine years ago during a jewelry heist. Because of it, she had spent three long, miserable years in a hellhole of a prison, enduring repeated gang-rapes by the guards. Weekends during that incarceration were the worst, when she’d been “rented out” to the highest bidder. Never again would she be careless during a heist. Since then, Sinja took every precaution, with an impressive string of thefts to show for it.

  This one would be her last, the dreamed-about “big score.” After this, she and Datch could finally disappear somewhere far away, enjoy a quiet, peaceful life where they never had to worry about being abused by others again.

  Reaching the stairwell’s top deck, Sinja slowly opened the door with her stun pistol at the ready. She took a cautious peek up and down the corridor outside. The coast was clear, so she took off running, following a specific route to the control room that she’d memorized oh so well.

  Just before she got there, a security guard popped out of a side corridor ahead, raising a pistol in her direction. Sinja could tell it was needler, a small-caliber handgun that fired ice slivers laced with a potent knockout drug. Sinja knew it was standard issue for the guards here, who dealt mostly with drunk or high miners getting into bar fights between long work shifts. The frozen slivers melted after penetrating skin, rendering the target unconscious within seconds. Corporate policy was to knock out brawling miners and toss them in the brig to sleep it off, avoid the risk of injuring them by lethal means.

  Sinja had no intention of being knocked out. Still at a full run, she easily fired before the guard did. The stun bolt from Sinja’s pistol streaked down the corridor and splashed against his forehead with a spray of cobalt sparks. He dropped, but as he fell his finger tightened on the trigger, sending ice slivers pinging into the floor and corridor wall to her left. None came close to hitting her, and she hurdled the guard’s limp body as it crumpled onto the floor.