In the year 700, Alexander knew, Byzantines and Franks had been battling it out with the Arabs for control of the Mediterranean world on Earth, and the most startling advance in military technology was the stirrup. Twelve hundred light-years away, meanwhile, someone had been blowing up suns.
Random statistical anomalies happened, yes … but as Alexander studied the 3D constellation map, rotating it back and forth for a better feel of the thing’s volume and the relationship of the stars within it, he was dead certain that something more than chance was at work here.
“If this is … artificial,” he told Cara, “if this is deliberate …”
“We estimate a probability in excess of sixty percent that this clustering of novae is the direct result of intelligent action.”
“Intelligent action.” Alexander snorted. “Funny term for something on this scale.”
“We know of several sapient species with technologies sufficiently high to effect engineering on such a scale,” Cara told him. “The Builders, the Xul … and possibly the N’mah of several thousand years ago, though they would not be capable of such activities now. The artificial detonation of a star is certainly feasible, given what we know of the three species.”
“I wasn’t questioning that,” Alexander said. “It’s just, well, I see three possibilities here, assuming that those novae were artificially generated. One, of course, is that the star-destroyers were the Xul.”
“Possibly. We have no evidence that they have blown up stars in the past.”
“No. I agree, it’s just not their style.” The Xul’s usual modus operandi was to pound a target planet with high-velocity asteroids, quite literally bombing the inhabitants back into the Stone Age … or into extinction. “But the Xul have been around for at least half a million years, now, and if anyone has the technology to blow up a star, they should.”
“Agreed. What are your other two possibilities?”
“One, and the most intriguing one, I think, is the possibility that another technic species was detonating stars out there in Aquila over two thousand years ago.”
“That is the possibility that we noted when we uncovered this data,” Cara said. “Another high-technic species fighting a war to the death with the Xul. If we could make contact with such a species, ally with them, it might mean the difference between survival and extinction for Humankind. I do not see a third alternative, however.”
“It’s possible that what happened in Aquila had nothing to do with the Xul,” Alexander told the AI. “It was a civilization busy destroying itself. It might even have been an accident.”
“What kind of accident could—”
“An industrial accident on a colossal scale. Or an engineering accident … an attempt to manipulate whole stars gone terribly wrong?”
“I have no data that will permit me to evaluate these ideas.”
“Of course you don’t. We’re not used to thinking about engineering on an interstellar … on a galactic scale. But it is a possibility.”
“Perhaps the data was not as useful as we first believed,” Cara told him. The AI sounded almost crestfallen, and Alexander smiled. Artificial intelligences were superhumanly fast and possessed a range and scope and depth of knowledge that far surpassed anything humans were capable of, even with the most sophisticated cybernetic implant technology. Where they had trouble matching their human counterparts was in creativity and in imagination. Being able to imagine a cosmic engineering project on a scale that could annihilate stars was for the most part still beyond their operational parameters.
“No, Cara,” he told the AI. “The data are tremendously useful. This is exactly what we’re looking for … a focus, a direction in which we can work.” He thought for a moment. “The question is how to get out there. It’s a long way.”
“Which brings up the second bit of information our research has uncovered. Look at this.” The image changed, showing what appeared to be a photograph of open space. A number of stars were visible, but one in particular stood out—a dazzling, white beacon. “That is the star Eta Aquilae,” Cara told him. “A star’s spectrum is unique, as unique as human fingerprints. There is no doubt as to the star’s identity.”
“Right. You just pointed that one out on the constellation image.”
“Actually, this image is in our files from one of our early Gate explorations. Our probes moved through a particular Gate pathway, took a series of photographs for later analyses, and returned.”
“Ah! And which Gate? …”
“As it happens … Puller 659.”
“God. …”
“This pathway appears to open into a star system four hundred light-years from Eta Aquilae.”
“Four hundred … Then, the other end might be close to the area of novae?”
“A distinct possibility. Further, there did not appear to be a Xul presence there. For that reason, we have not been monitoring that path, but the original photographs were still on file.”
“Outstanding,” Alexander said with feeling. He was seeing all kinds of possibilities here.
“You concur that an expedition to this region of space might allow us to contact another technic species, one sufficiently powerful enough to help us withstand the Xul?”
“Yes, although we seem to be back to needing to enter Republic space. Again … we have several possibilities in front of us.”
“Perhaps you should list them,” Cara said. “I don’t seem to be seeing as many options and outcomes as are you.”
“Well … the big possibility is that there’s someone out there who beat the Xul two thousand years ago. If we can make contact with them, ally with them, like you said, we might have a chance to beat the Xul on their own terms.”
“Yes. This was the possibility we had noted when the data first turned up in our research. But … you also said the novae could have been caused by the Xul. If so, the species we’d hoped to ally with might have been wiped out two thousand years ago. A mission to the Nova Aquila region would be futile if that was the case.”
“Not at all. If the Xul resorted to blowing up stars—incinerating whole star systems—then they must have been up against someone or something that scared the liver out of them … assuming they have livers to begin with. Even if this hypothetical technic species is now extinct, we might find remnants … like the ruins on Chiron and elsewhere. We might learn why the Xul feared them that much.” He shrugged. “At least it’s a damned good place to start.”
“That possibility had not occurred to me.”
“Here’s another one. Imagine you’re the Xul, hard-wired to be paranoid about anyone different or advanced enough to be a threat. Two thousand years ago, someone in that one region of space gives you such a damned bad scare that you detonate stars to get rid of them. You think they’re all dead, wiped out when their worlds were incinerated … but two thousand years later, someone with a large battle fleet shows up in that same region and starts nosing around the wreckage of those stars. What do you think?”
“Either that the old enemy has reappeared, and is still a threat,” Cara said, “or, somewhat more likely, that another technic species is examining the wreckage of that former civilization—”