Entropy

By Allen Kuzara

What do you fight for when you’ve already lost?

After the surprise attack on Trinity, John Alvarez is left holding the key to defeating anti-life, Dr. Black’s vac-shielding weapon.

But the pendulum swings back when a message is received saying Novos is under siege. Unknown to Alvarez, anti-life fighters are focusing their attack on Novos’s flagship, the same ship Nadia and Adam are on. There’s more behind the attacks than what meets the eye.

Alvarez must race home to beat back the merciless onslaught of the anti-life fleet. Everything is at stake, but time’s running out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allen Kuzara
• Release date: Nov 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463258279

Allen Kuzara

Allen Kuzara writes speculative fiction including The Anti Life Series and the forthcoming Aliens Among Us Series. To date, he has written nine novels and multiple short stories.Sign up to his newsletter and receive a free short story!https://www.subscribepage.com/b7x8r2

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ENTROPY

Book 3 in The Anti Life Series

ALLEN KUZARA

Copyright © 2018 Allen Kuzara

All rights reserved.

PART 1 -- INVASION

Chapter 1

ALVAREZ ROAMED THE Saratoga’s halls, stepping in and out of empty compartments as if searching for something he had lost. No one asked what he was doing; no one needed to. It was obvious he was distracting himself, trying to stay busy during the six-hour, uneventful IST slog back to Novos.

Inside his sleeping quarters, he opened cabinets and searched the shelves on the walls. He felt like there was something missing, an itch he couldn’t scratch. Some belonging he had brought with him but had forgotten about. So far, he had found standard Novos issue paraphernalia: promotional materials talking about great opportunities for advancement, great pay for deep-space missions, and other ridiculous claims just short of promising eternal life. Alvarez wondered what was more ludicrous: eternal life or a free lunch?

He picked up a pamphlet from a now defunct era, a time before anti-life and the blue-shift. It had a sharp, glossy photo of a probe similar to the one he’d investigated eighteen months ago. It was attractive marketing materials, or rather it would have been for someone who hadn’t seen what he had.

He shuddered at one of the shots: an exterior, up-close view of one of the probe windows with a vivid reflection of an earthlike planet. For Alvarez, all he could see was a murderous space buddy hiding in the darkness beyond the glass.

Thinking of signing up? said a voice.

He turned and saw Cynthia Black standing in the doorway. He thought he’d closed the door. He looked back at the photo, no longer really seeing what was in front of him but lost somewhere inside himself.

If only I knew then… he said. Her attempt at humor hadn’t helped. He was stuck between two competing emotions: nauseating concern for his family, and deep regret over how his life had turned out.

You know, everything’s going to be… She stopped herself. We don’t even know what’s happening at Novos Corp.

Alvarez raised a hand, stopping her. What else could it be? They hit us at Trinity, but that wasn’t their whole fleet. If anything, I’m betting the whole blue-shift approach toward Trinity was a ruse—just a distraction. They’re really after earth and the other Outer-Five.

You don’t know that. What makes you think they are that crafty?

He gave her an incredulous look. Really?

I’m saying your experience with anti-life was different. Michael Brennen was the mind behind it all. We didn’t see any level of intelligence here at Trinity that was close to what you saw at the outpost.

True, but we don’t know how much of Brennen’s mind was destroyed.

You blew him up twice over.

I destroyed his body, and the Constance’s computer, and finally the computer system on the probe. But if the blueshift represents the approach of anti-life—which it clearly does—it has to mean there was a transference of knowledge from the outpost to wherever they come from. Enough knowledge was sent for them to find Trinity and Novos both.

Maybe so, she conceded. She walked over to him and put her hand on his. Listen, John…

He withdrew his hand, dropping the pamphlet, and turned his back to her.

John?

Look, he said sternly, turning to face her. I don’t know what you think is going on between us, but what happened at Trinity was a mistake. Cynthia, I’m married. I got a kid.

Her face drew downward again, a look of painful confusion. You’re married?

To Nadia.

I thought she was—

A lot of things have changed since we knew each other, he said. When Black had known Nadia, she was Brennen’s girlfriend.

But your hand. She grabbed his left hand and pulled it up between both of their faces. No ring.

His anger towards Black left him. He knew now that she had had no idea what they had been doing. None of this was her fault. He hadn’t been trapped by her. It was the man in the mirror whom he should blame.

I was just being stupid, he said. Same stuff I always do—think I deserve something I don’t. Then I ruin the good things in my life.

John, we didn’t really do anything wrong. We stopped before—

We were attacked, he finished. You and I both know where things were headed. He looked at her. Now she was the one withdrawn, broken. She was still wearing that black dress that she looked so good in. Maybe it was the Saratoga’s unflattering light or the sobering run-in with anti-life, but gone was his attraction to her.

Finally, she looked up at him. John, I don’t know what to say. But the John Alvarez I knew—he was a good person. We all make mistakes. We’re living through what will be considered one of the most trying periods in human history. I don’t think you should beat yourself up. We’re just human.

Used to be, he said.

"Used to be human?"

I was good when you knew me, before the Fight, before the fifteen years commanding missions, before anti-life.

There was a pause. Then Black breathed in quickly. Don’t you dare think for a second that AL attacking Trinity had something to do with you. Or us, she snapped. "You’re important, you’ve done a lot and all. But you’re not that important. Don’t kid yourself."

She had a way of bouncing from extremes: a moment ago, she was down in the dumps, but now she was her normal upbeat self, telling him the way it was—or at least the way she thought it was.

What’s done is done, he said. I have to live with whatever happens, and I can’t undo my mistakes. But I can do something right when I get back to Novos. His speech sounded optimistic, but his demeanor reeked of dread, of inescapable impending duty.

Cynthia, he continued. When we arrive, we’re not going to have time to talk about what happened at Trinity again. And, really, I’d prefer we never do.

Maybe the battle will be over when we get there, she said changing the subject.

Do you know something I don’t? he asked dubiously. If the battle’s over, you’re not going to like who the winners are. Unless you sent Novos your shielding program—and we can’t transmit in IST—their armaments won’t be any more effective than ours were. I have a feeling we’ll have our work cut out for us.

I did send it, before we left. I sent it everywhere, all at once, all channels, maximum signal, she said defensively.

Alvarez let it go. There was no point debating. Maybe she could rest easy, hoping for the best. But he knew better, and she would too if she was thinking clearly. The whole time they had been attacked, their messages had been blocked. It was safe to assume anti-life would do the same at Novos, which meant the emergency message they’d received from Novos had been a small miracle, getting out before AL had blocked transmissions. There was no way Novos had received her program, and even if they had, they were under siege and wouldn’t pay attention to it.

Their only chance—Alvarez’s only hope—was that he could reach them in time.

CHAPTER 2

GENERAL MCKINLEY CHEWED on a cigar, a nasty habit he’d tried to quit many times. The thought occurred to him that this might be his last stogie, not because he would quit tomorrow but because tomorrow may never come.

In the main headquarters aboard the Victoria, Novos Corp’s flagship, McKinley saw double: three cruisers on the main-viewer and the identical three ships outside the observation window next to it. He preferred using the window, trusting his own eyes to size them up. Since the incident at the probe, anti-life had grown larger and more menacing in everyone’s minds. He didn’t think anything, however evil or monstrous, could live up to those imagined creatures. At least, he hoped that was true.

Updated status report, he yelled at no one in particular.

Some young looking navigational officer jumped to his feet. Sir, the anti-life cruiser hasn’t changed position. And it hasn’t sent out any more fighters.

How many fighters?

Still thirty-six, the officer said.

What are they waiting on? McKinley whispered.

What’d you say, sir?

What’s the status of the other settlements?

No news, sir. The last we heard, there are single cruisers at each of the Outer-Five settlements.

But we get three. Aren’t we the lucky ones? McKinley barked rhetorically. Send another message. Find out for sure.

That’s another thing, sir. We’ve sent new transmissions but haven’t received any replies.

Jammed?

It seems so. Comms inside the Victoria are working, but beyond our hull—nothing.

And the Inner-Three?

We haven’t observed anti-life reaching earth. Not yet.

That was good, McKinley thought. You can always abandon a vessel, even an entire corporate settlement. But abandoning earth was unthinkable. He envisioned the chaos and mayhem that was surely taking place on the planet after news of AL’s arrival had reached them. But that was their problem, he told himself. He had the real crisis, an existential threat right outside his window. And for unknown reasons, the AL fleet had sent three times the force to Novos than they had to other Outer-Five settlements. The silver lining—if you could call it that—was that besides jamming inter-vessel communications the AL ships weren’t making aggressive moves.

We’ve got something, the officer said.

McKinley, startled from his ruminations, looked at the main-viewer and saw the image change. A small caravan of ships were approaching one of the anti-life cruisers.

What are they doing? McKinley shouted.

It’s unclear. They just appeared out of nowhere.

Try to reach them—call them.

Sir, it’s no use. Our transmissions…

McKinley remembered their predicament and watched in horror.

What on earth, he said to himself. That was it, he realized. Assume their current trajectory has been constant. From what settlement would they have left?

The officer punched buttons on his console, crunching numbers. Then he looked a little puzzled.

Well? McKinley asked.

Earth, sir. But why? They’re safe there, at least for now. Why would they travel this far into harm’s way?

They don’t think they’re in harm’s way; they’re going to heaven; they’re climbing Jacob’s ladder.

The young man didn’t get it right away. Then his expression changed from one of stupor to shock. They’re cultists?

As best I can figure. McKinley considered his options. Pull up defensive armament array.

The officer obediently carried out the order. Then the view screen changed, still the same images but with highlighted borders, trim, and numerous abbreviations listed in the right-hand corner.

McKinley huffed in exasperation. He started to question where the full complement of armaments was, those on Novos station itself that he could control remotely, when he realized his predicament. Without comms, he was limited to those weapons aboard the Victoria, sizeable as they were.

Looks like we’ll have to do things the old-fashioned way, he said aloud.

Novos Corp had never been built for war. Even during the Fight, there had been only limited changes made to Novos station’s defensive capabilities—mostly reinforcement of the hull, redundancies in hull-breach containment protocols, etc. And many of these amendments were taken down or left derelict after the Fight was over. Protecting Novos had been the job of the hundreds of armed space-vessels back then, not Novos station itself. And now with inter-vessel comms down, Novos’s updated armaments would be under the control of one of McKinley’s subordinates left on the station. He hoped they wouldn’t do something stupid. For now, he would try to keep the Victoria between anti-life and Novos station. Hopefully the rest of the fleet would follow his example.

McKinley looked back out the observation window, just barely spotting the small caravan approaching the AL fleet, a flicker of light reflecting off their hulls. Those passengers, no doubt, were in ecstatic jubilation; in their minds, they were on the cusp of crossing over, of passing through the veil onto the other side. He wondered if at least one of them had second thoughts. How awful, to be trapped that way with no chance of turning around. The zealots around you would rather slit your throat than listen to your sacrilege dissent. But these were the true believers. They were already gone, if not in body then in mind.

He looked at the fleet surrounding Novos. At one time, these ships gave him comfort. They were the strongest, fiercest fighting units in civilized space. But now they looked weak, small compared to the anti-life cruisers who each were nearly the size of Novos station. He felt outgunned.

Now his choice was simple but hard: fire upon the earth vessels, keeping them from making contact with AL, or wait and see what happened.

McKinley felt the pressure rise, the eyes of all his crew watching him for the next command. Still he waited, hoping for something obvious to appear that would remove all doubt from action.

If he let those ships reach an anti-life cruiser, they may provoke an undesired response, but he didn’t want to fire upon innocent civilians either.

McKinley heard the door to the HQ swoosh open. He wasn’t expecting company. As he turned, he saw three figures scamper toward him. They were Inner-Three delegates from the summit—secondary delegates, the ones that barely got to speak and who had even bigger chips on their shoulders. He had forgotten they were aboard.

General, update us immediately, said one of the delegates, a short bald man.

It was all McKinley could do to keep from rolling his eyes. I’m deliberating over what to do with three earth vessels heading toward the AL fleet, he said pointing at the view-screen.

The three delegates shuffled in front of McKinley as if good views were hard to come by. A woman with glasses and a nasal tone turned around quickly. What do you plan to do?

What would you suggest? McKinley replied.

Shoot them down. Fire on them. They’re getting close to the anti-life ship, she shrieked.

But Novos has no right to fire on an Inner-Three vessel, said the third representative, a slender androgynous appearing man.

But they may provoke an attack, the bald man pleaded.

We don’t know that, the slender man said.

This is no time for philosophy, asserted the woman.

McKinley knew he was stuck with an impossible scenario: assuming they survived to suffer the consequences, he would be criticized for either choice. The Inner-Three would throw a royal fit for its settlers being fired upon, and if contact with the AL fleet initiated a conflict, Novos would be blamed for that too.

The three delegates continued in-fighting, oblivious to what was happening on the viewer. Out the corner of his eye, McKinley glimpsed something new on the view screen. He watched as the caravan came closer to