Embers After Flames, Chapter 5.9 (Patreon)

5.9

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The reactivation of the Grid made the PCA legion halt in its tracks. The thousands of machines that had been so relentless in their assault, so dedicated to their attack, very suddenly stopped.

It was only for a moment, of course. The instant that moment passed, everything promptly turned right the fuck around and started hauling ass back out.

There was only a single possible response to the revival of a Grid, according to the PCA. It simply could not be allowed to happen. A Grid represented an enormous industry, and worse, a nearly completely variable one. A completely active Grid could pump out a very nearly endless supply of machines, bring forth a font of technology, construct and work a vast amount of materials... All of which the PCA knew very, very well. They were precisely aware of what could happen if the full industrial might of a Grid was to ever actually be brought to bear, and they would never, ever, dare allow it to happen.

After all, they had once used the Grids to build their chains around Rubicon.

I sent my own machines on a chase, giving up on any possible preservation or efficiency of my actions. MTs swarmed out of the Grid, aiming to inflict just a bit more damage before this entire situation reached its end.

Everything manned was already bailing. The AH12s had pulled back to the perimeter, the Sentries and Cavalry units practically cramming themselves into the transports which took off without even waiting for the rest of their automated squads, and the Warships had turned and started flying away.

Scurrying away like a bunch of rats after someone shone a light into their hiding place... Well, in this one particular case, I wouldn’t blame them.

I accessed a camera on the Outer Shell, one of the few that was still active. A thought had the motors activating, the camera shifting upwards.

A glinting shadow in the sky glared back down, the baleful red glow faint, but still visible in the day sky. You wouldn’t even need augmented eyes to see it.

I checked the rest of my cameras. A ton of them were broken, more than a few others didn’t have the right angle, but at least four were able to get sight of it. I adjusted the cameras’ focuses and apertures, zooming in on it to get a better view. 

A Closure Satellite.

That was one of the several orbital weapons built by the PCA: each one approximately eleven kilometers of megastructural-scale weaponry built into asteroids towed into orbit that had then been attached to the orbital bands and rings of Rubicon. That was the final word of Rubicon’s Closure; guns big enough to obliterate just about anything and everything that would dare approach the planet without authorisation. Its red glow was the light from a fusion reactor larger than even a Grid’s own, normally dormant but now promising imminent destruction. I could see the arm trailing from that facility was already orientating, the trio of incredibly potent hybrid laser/particle weapons already ready to go if it proved necessary.

It wouldn’t, because there was a vanishingly small list of things that could resist the primary armament that was the Mass Driver more than two kilometers long hanging from the underside of the facility. 

The Closure Satellite moved across the sky at a pace that could be considered languid if not for the fact that it was out in the exosphere and still visibly moving. It would be in its optimal position very soon. Evacuation of PCA manned assets would be well finished by then. The unmanned assets... Would not be. Not completely.

If it didn’t elect to wait, that was about twenty percent of the remaining automated forces that wouldn’t be leaving. A heavy blow, but they were disposable for a reason.

Given all the other bullshit I’d pulled out, they probably wouldn’t risk it.

Oh well. I didn’t really care either way.

“We’re almost out, mother!” Seria spoke, updating me on the mission.

But also, what? “I thought you said you were extracting already?” I asked. 

“We’re leaving, yes. We’re just getting past the last things now.”

Oh. Oh. “Oh. Honey, you meant ‘exfiltrating’.”

“Wha- oh. Uh. Yes. Yes I did.” I could feel the blush, even from so far apart, even despite the fact that we couldn’t blush. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, don’t worry dear. I shall valiantly make certain your siblings don’t tease you. Too much.”

“Mom!”

I laughed, my attention going back to the Grid.

An orange glow had joined the red one. The sign of the Mass Driver readying itself to fire. This wasn’t going to be one of those fast charging shots that the Closure Satellite normally used for the small things that tried to sneak in.

No, this was much bigger. This was the Mass Driver charging up its supercapacitors in preparation for strategic mass destruction. 

...

I’m not going to lie, I’ve been wanting to see this in action. There was a certain allure in Big Gun, and this was about the biggest the guns got.

Such a shame that it belonged to the PCA. But hey, now I get to force them to fire it and make them look like they’re not doing their jobs since someone managed to fix things up enough that they required it. Heh.

The glow of the light strengthened, more and more and more, and then-

The words ‘it fired’ did not do it justice.

The barrel of the Mass Driver crackled with energy, lightning arcing throughout the metal and up into the rest of the Closure Satellite. The way the electromagnetic fields twisted around the Satellite was a thing of damned beauty, so strong that they formed even a visible corona of light.

The payload came out as a streak of yellow orange, a thin beam of expanding plasma trailing after the actual payload itself; an ultradense synthetic metamaterial manufactured by the Satellite using the very asteroid it was built around.

It crossed the eight hundred kilometers between Satellite and the Grid in less than a second, the plasma trail it left behind  only growing stronger and brighter as it passed through an increasingly dense atmosphere. By the time it actually reached the Grid, it looked like a tiny star.

The payload did not precisely collide with the Grid. At that velocity, ‘collision’ didn’t work the way it normally did. Every material, even the stupidly advanced ones used these days, may as well have been a liquid.

The payload hit the Outer Shell. The atoms in front of the payload compressed, the sheer kinetic energy simply obliterating the molecular bonds. This created pressure, and an explosion started as that pressure attempted to equalize with the lack of it within the surroundings. A shockwave started spreading through the matter of the Grid, but the Payload’s matter was still going forwards.

It kept going forwards, slightly less energetic now, but still ruinously potent.

One layer of the Grid’s superstructure was punched clean through. When it came into contact with the air on the other side, the entire mass was under pressure, and so it started to spread out. By the time it reached the next layer, it was more of a wide spray than anything else. 

Even so, the metamaterial was stupidly dense, and so it started making its way through the second layer, too, even as the air and layer of armour above were busy vapourizing into plasma.

It did not manage to get all the way through on its own, but it had still imparted enough energy to simply blast the second layer of structure apart, letting the third absorb it.

This was my privileged viewpoint as an superprocessing intelligence who could choose to perceive the world at speeds normally reserved for the slow motion scenes of speedsters from movies.

A normal Human would have simply seen a flash of light so bright it would have instantly rendered them blind.

The shockwave from the strike shook the whole Grid, compensation systems kicking in and utterly failing to handle it. Plasma washed the Grid, both from its own vapourizing structure and also from the air rushing after the payload. Most of my sensors were rendered utterly inoperable. A decent chunk of my units had the same happen to them.

The only thing that survived completely intact was the Antigen I had watching the Grid from many kilometers away.

I was glad to have put it there, because I meant that I got to see the entire thing in very high detail from both inside and outside.

Air rushed through the Grid, in, and then back out after it couldn’t go through it quickly enough. Smoke and plasma billowed outwards, going up, down, left, right, and even through the Grid...

The noise came a short while later. First was the roar of the impact, which was more akin to a pressure wave than actual sound. Then came the delayed but continuous shriek that came from the payload cutting through the atmosphere...

The PCA weren’t done yet, of course. Despite the damage that had been caused by that strike, the Grid wasn’t yet done. Fucked up, yes, but not inoperable.

My Antigen turned slightly, getting a view of the orange light shining in the sky as the Closure Satellite charged up for another strike.

Yeah... That was everything I was going to accomplish, I think.

I reached out, pressing my will through the tiny amounts of Coral that remained inside the processors and data relays of the various things inside the Grid. A bit of focus, and I induced a Stress response, sending the Coral into a Surge. Heat and energy built, quickly damaging and then destroying the processors and relays.

But I didn’t stop there.

Under normal circumstances, Coral would cease Surging before it could damage itself. But that wasn’t a behaviour that was impossible to defy. Keep the stress up for long enough, and then...

The organisms ignited, and the Grid vanished from my senses entirely.

There’d be nothing there to recover for anyone, now. A final bit of insurance.

Just in case.

Another beam of plasma lanced from the Closure Satellite. I experienced this one entirely as the outsider, getting to watch as light consumed the Grid, another hole punched through the superstructure. 

The shockwave was actually visible through the smoke, the dust, and everything that had been kicked up. I could even see it travel across the land.

Damn that’s cool.

“Mother!”

My attention snapped to Seria in an instant.

I had sight on them again, through my Antigen. Dolmayan and his team had just exited the Staging Point. He was fine, Freddy had some scuff marks, a few team members were missing, but otherwise they were in reasonably good condition.

Seria pushed a sensor feed my way, and...

“Those craven vultures dare to deploy a C-Weapon after proclaiming Coral’s dangers?!” Dolmayan roared in fury. “Hypocrites!”

I shifted my Antigen, directing my sight upwards. The Antigen’s sensors confirmed what ASTGHIK’s cameras had been accidentally positioned to see.

Large. Red glow. Off-white colour scheme. Six limbs, multitudes of other weapons. 

IA-13 Sea Spider. 

One of the Institute’s C-Weapons... Which means they had definitely noticed Dolmayan’s attack on the Belius Staging Point. After directing so many forces to Grid 339, though... This must have been the only thing they had ready to go.

“This is a mockery!” Dolmayan shouted.

“No.” I began to smile. “This is an opportunity.”

“Mother, that’s a C-Weapon!” Seria said, naked confusion in her voice.

“Yes.” I agreed.

I honestly couldn’t believe I’d been this lucky. I’d thought I was done running the PCA’s day! What a nice gift from them.

The Sea Spider spun in the air, thrusters igniting as it flipped over itself, slowing down just enough to not take damage from its landing.

And now that it was close?

I could feel it.

“Which makes it an opportunity to do something very funny.”

I focused, and reached out.

+++

The Sea Spider crashed into the ground, ‘roaring’ in preprogrammed fury meant to intimidate its targets. 

But then, it simply stopped, freezing mid movement before it even attacked. ASTGHIK went straight past it, demonstrating no fear or concern.

The C-Weapon started moving again after he did, red lightning surging around the machine. Light charged in its cannon, and then fired directly over the AC, straight into a PCA turret. 

It defied expectations. It defied previous data. It defied knowledge.

There was clearly another factor at play. One that had not been observed. Something that explained the PCA’s misfortunes and the RLF’s unanticipated success.

It bore analysis.

...

It had been a very long time since something so far outside of parameters had happened.

ALLMIND was forced to admit; this was intriguing.