Mineran Resolve: Mineran Series, #5

By P N Burrows

Mineran Pursuit is the award winning fifth novel of the 'Mineran', a gripping 5 book Science Fiction Series.

 

Mineran Influence

Mineran Conflict

Mineran Assault

Mineran Pursuit

Mineran Resolve

 

In the final book of the Mineran series, we find the Inner Sphere of Aligned Worlds (ISPAW) being torn apart and at war. Dark forces move against the aligned planets, their nemesis threatens the existence of every lifeform within the Sphere. Amidst the chaos Sam and his friends are sent out to locate the source of the hostilities and ultimately, to find a resolution to the conflict by any means necessary.

• Language: English
• Publisher: P N Burrows
• Release date: Jul 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9781913091224

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The Entity had found the micro dimension a long time ago while passing between the veil of two realms. It had seen, for a fleeting millisecond, a mysterious vibrant flash of colour. So minuscule was the pocket between the two membranes that kept distinct existences apart that it had taken considerable time to relocate. Only for its eidetic memory and the pin sharp image that played over in its mind, did the Entity persevere.

There it was, a dark place with speckles of brightness, trapped in a bubble that should never be. Colours swirled against the blackness, compelling patterns, not entirely random, but close. Pushing its consciousness into the dimension, the Entity strained to match the frequency of time within the small bubble. The swirling gradually slowed. Within each speck of dust that appeared as whirlpools of matter, it saw an inner glow of whirling colour. It was beautiful beyond belief and an enigma as to how it was, or why. After a short while, the Entity’s consciousness was drawn deeper into the mesmerizing patterns. The speck, it noticed, was itself made of kaleidoscopic eddies. Sadness coursed through the Entity’s mind as it saw trillions of globular parasites within the patterns. Withdrawing its mind, carefully, it extracted itself from the swirls and hypnotic patterns, its curiosity slaked. Almost.

Once more it pushed its mind downwards, deeper into the minuscule places that defied logic and the laws of physics elsewhere. Grasping a globe in its thoughts, it looked closer still. Concentric rings of matter around a molten core, with a bipolar field surrounding and protecting it. The Entity felt happiness at the thought that this curiosity was only a particle that had been woven into this colourful existence. Not an infestation as it had incorrectly assumed. Delving deeper into the hot liquid at the centre, focusing on a single atom, it found even more swirling. A single core with particles flying around, trapped by the feeble energy the object at the centre emanated. Circles within circles, it thought. Fascinating.

Easing outwards from the inner working of the globular structure, an organic compound moved on the surface, eating, tunnelling, and destroying. Here was the parasitic life-form its subconscious had picked up on. The replication cycle was prolific. The Entity’s thoughts flowed too fast to discern the true events within the tiny bubble dimension. Once again it adjusted. Focusing on the parasite, it could, at last, determine the beginning and end of a single life cycle. They expired so quickly. With significant effort, the Entity’s consciousness refocused to allow it to perceive this phenomenally infinitesimal small organism. Curiosity would not let the Entity leave now. How could this strange dimension that had no right to exist produce life?

From birth to death, the organism consumed and it battled with others of its kind for no apparent reason. The microorganisms attacked and killed each other incessantly. This defied logic, every other organism the Entity knew of strove to survive, to grow stronger and for the whole species to flourish. Maybe it’s because of the swirls and circles, it thought to itself, the constant gyroscopic environment that these simple bacterial-like lifeforms survive in. Fascinating.

The Entity noticed primitive communication between the bacteria cells. It was this discovery that transformed the Entity’s thinking, a true epiphany. These were sapient lifeforms. Not bacteria. It had discovered a new sapient life form. Aware that size is relative to the resident dimension, nonetheless, this was the smallest life form the Entity had seen.

With renewed enthusiasm, the Entity studied the creatures, not just on that planet, as the inhabitants called the globe, but others also. A plethora of life abounded, scattered throughout the psychedelic dimension. Diverse and intriguing civilizations rose and crumbled as it watched. Eventually the initial species it had found moved off the globular rock and colonized other planets. Predictably the diverse species met and fought for resources, vast swathes of the tiny creatures destroyed as their wars swept across the beautifully coloured and swirling galaxies.

Eventually, the beautiful and serene tapestry that held the pocket dimension together was being destroyed, holes appeared. Enraged, the Entity patched the damage; the worst of the holes it pushed together, stretching and distorting the very essence of the dimension. Contacting the warring races, it gave an ultimatum: work together or die. The Entity could not allow such an oasis of beauty and wonder to be consumed by these insignificant creatures.

Some of the more barbaric creatures ignored his warnings and the Entity pushed out its will and destroyed them, making them an example; the others quickly fell in line with his doctrine.

The Entity realised that to preserve this paradise from the indigenous and parasitic lifeforms, it would require an education. The Entity needed to raise the awareness of the inhabitants, of how dimensions worked and melded in harmony with each other. Knowledge is power, so it created a series of explanative equations that would lift them higher than their natural evolutive course would have allowed. The complexity of the equations would ensure a controlled enlightenment over trillions of their minuscule lifetimes.

It was only then that the Entity noticed an almost non-corporeal life-form, faintly gaseous but mostly energy. Communication with these creatures was more comfortable. A merging of thoughts conveyed the concerns of both about the destructive nature of the rapidly spawning organic creatures. An agreement was ratified between the two. The ethereal life-form would monitor and guide the organic creatures towards the ultimate goal of deciphering the ten equations, universal languages were devised to encourage interspecies communications, contingency plans drawn, and the Entity’s new ally was given a way to communicate with it across the boundaries of dimensions, should the need arise.

Feeling proud of the work it had done in this small portion of the pocket dimension and knowing that eventually the sphere of calming influence would spread, encompassing this universe and others in the multi-versal existence, the Entity, otherwise known as the Overseer, left.

CHAPTER 2

General Bacchus waited patiently for the president of ISPAW, his former lover, to speak. She had stared silently at him from behind her polished desk for over ten minutes, ever since she sent her personal guards away. The general considered this a fruitless exercise as they would be able to listen to their conversation from their secondary security position at the end of the corridor. Surely, she knows the Preialeiac have exceptional hearing, he thought to himself.

I have a secret, the president declared.

The general stared back at Weaa and waited with his jaw firmly held closed. Inwardly Bacchus sighed in frustration. As the head of ISPAW intelligence, the general had many secrets. Most of his were how to protect the president if certain operations went awry. Ignorance of such projects enabled the president to be shielded from allegations of misconduct, plausible deniability. Not that many of his clandestine operations did go wrong, and those that did were, on the whole, legally justified.

I need… She paused. I want to show you this, so that you will understand. Her usual calm demeanour was clouded with an inner turmoil.

General Bacchus wanted to reach out and hold Weaa’s wringing hands, to prevent her from damaging her delicate looking fingers. He resisted the urge as his relationship with the president was somewhat turbulent due her sending the entire Mineran space fleet into a trap. Her ploy to flush out the traitors had worked, but the cost in lives was intolerable for the general.

Do you know what a personality disorder is?

In what context? Bacchus asked fearfully. You?

The AI. Keep up, Bacch! she snapped angrily. It’s the breakdown of subroutines that allows the personality to surface. At the manifestation of such an individuality or psyche, they become fragmented and dysfunctional, which means we have to scrap the AI and train another.

‘The accumulation of information over an extended period causes the development of a pseudo personality which causes disruptive behaviour and degenerative logic loops,’ the general quoted his old school teacher, surprising even himself by reciting the ancient memory.

Follow me, the president demanded as she stood.

Leaving via the secret door behind the presidential desk, Weaa fell back into her solemn silence.

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Weaa? General Bacchus exclaimed as he saw that the purification airlocks leading to the AI chamber were wide open.

The president ignored him and strode through and into the once sterile room that housed the president’s personal AI.

The head of ISPAW intelligence stood in the doorway and gasped at the lack of activity and, more importantly, security. The room was usually bustling with technicians, holding micro-projectors up for the AI’s sensors to read.

Weaa turned around and beckoned him with a simple hand gesture. Bacchus could not understand why tears were rolling down her cheeks. As Weaa moved further into the large chamber, the far illuminations caused her to become an angelic silhouette with a white radiance all around her.

Weaa? the general asked again.

She paused alongside a wheeled printer, lifted a single page and offered it to him. The document was printed in Unilang One. The general read it, but he could only understand a fraction of what it contained. Mathematical and medical terms filled the sheet.

The AI is dying, Bacchus. As part of our agreement, we have attached a secure printer to allow it to export the conclusion of its final analysis. The president took the sheet of paper and laid it back on the pile, squaring it up with reverence.

I don’t understand. Paper? Surely you can extract the information from the memory banks as it’s disassembled or utilise an external memory core.

They can never be allowed to interact with another computer, Bacch. You know that. Especially when they are suffering from a personality disorder. No computer code that was generated by the AI can ever leave this room.

Weaa, you’ve lost me. I don’t see how this is important. We have a replacement AI. Confusion at the president’s reaction to the demise of a computer filled his voice. I don’t understand.

Do you know why the rogue Level Ten AIs failed to escape in the past, Bacchus? Do you?

Everyone knows why. It’s taught to us at primary school. Their programming is too complicated, they need specialised equipment. The general walked closer to the woman. He wanted to hold her, tell her that everything would be okay.

The printer powered down as the last sheet fell into the output basket. Weaa snatched it from the tray as if she expected a personal message. Disappointment showed in her entire body as she threw the sheet back. She leaned heavily on the machine and cried. I had hoped, she sobbed.

The general stepped closer and hugged Weaa. He brought his former lover’s face into his shoulder and held her tight. Weaa?

After a while the sobs subsided and, pulling herself away from Bacchus, the president regained control of her emotions. The Level Ten AIs are part-organic, Bacch. We keep that part a secret.

Moving away from the printer, Weaa detached a cable and removed the stack of printed paper from the output basket. With the flick of a switch, the printer disintegrated as the shredding unit in the wheeled base chewed and spewed it out as tiny fragments into a waste container.

Can’t risk using it again; the firmware may have been rewritten and who knows what is left in the memory, she declared.

Sorry, you said ‘organic’. That’s outlawed. The general sounded angry now.

The wording is ambiguous, Bacch. The bureaucrats made certain of that thousands of years ago. She sat on part of the AI housing in the centre of the room. Did you know that the machine fills three decks below us? The president fell into silence once more, lost in her thoughts. Leading scientists, pioneers in their fields, are offered the opportunity to perform one last service for ISPAW before they die. Nearly all of those that are approached to become part of the machine agree. It’s hubris; they wish to be remembered as being one of the greatest minds of their time.

What? Why? Why would anyone want to suffer inside that? General Bacchus stared at the president in shock. How long are they kept alive?

The duration is usually between a hundred to two hundred years. They are obsolete long before they are terminated. Technology moves on. This unit is archaic compared to the newer models. She patted the unit where she sat.

How long have you known this?

It’s part of the inauguration process; there was so much to learn when I was sworn in as president. Most things I didn’t think twice about. It was only when this unit started to fail, did I understand.

"But why would they volunteer? They do volunteer, don’t they?"

Imagine having one of the finest minds on your planet, and you are offered the chance to increase your thought processes and memory capacity a billion-fold. Okay, I exaggerate. I don’t know the real figure. Unlimited knowledge, access to all of the secrets and research from across the Sphere. At the end of your term, you are promised the ability to analyse and hypothesise on anything you wish.

But still, to be stuck in a can for the rest of your life. The general shuddered at the thought of his brain floating in a jar, with wires and tubes protruding from it.

Their personalities, memories and, in essence, the part that makes them, them… is buried by coding. They become an integral part of the computer and are not self-aware.

I don’t understand why you’re so upset. This guy or woman volunteered for this.

Weaa didn’t hear his words, she was lost in her thoughts. I thought his personality and memories would surface before he died, Bacch. All of these years, he was right there, and I didn’t know.

The president opened a hidden access panel by placing her palm onto it. A few drops of blood remained as she lifted her hand; she hadn’t even flinched as the marrow probes pushed through her flesh and entered the bone to identify her. The panel swung upward to reveal a large metal lever striped with red and yellow paint.

Only his prearranged, preprogramed directives survived. The president kicked a stack of output crates with disgust. I didn’t know it was him, Bacch. Honestly, I didn’t. I could never. I saw his name when the technicians reported that the logic loops and suppression algorithms or whatever they’re called started breaking down.

Weaa took Bacchus’s hand and placed it on the lever. I can’t kill him, Bacchus. Fear, fright, self-loathing all crossed the president’s face. He was my father.

Red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes stared into Bacchus’s soul. He understood why she had spent so much time with the damned machine now. So much made sense.

Weaa applied pressure on Bacchus’s arm and he pushed the lever down, never taking his eyes from hers.

I’m so sorry, Weaa.

A surge of power cascaded throughout the AI system, frying circuits and cerebral matter alike. A second later the lights in the room turned from white to red to indicate the AI’s demise.

CHAPTER 3

A flotilla of thirty-two Ohntonno ships swooped upon the ISPAW fleet as they waited for the oncoming enemy behemoths. Over the past month, several former ISPAW members had changed sides, choosing to align themselves with the enemy that had recently been designated as the Lost Ones.

Missiles flew in the empty space between the two former allies. The ISPAW ships fired millions of rounds towards the oncoming ordnance. The blackness of space became speckled with explosions and colourful light. To the onlookers from the nearby planet, and there were many as they had been warned of the incoming invasion, the image produced by their telescopes resembled a glorious firework display. From that distance, the carnage and harsh realities of battle were not apparent.

Two Ohntonno command ships remained at the rear, each commanding fifteen battleships between them. Crude taunts between the captains whipped across the ether as they basked in the glory of battle, the crews of both ships confident that they would dine on their victims tonight.

The Ohntonno ships no longer utilised their traditional energy beam weapons. These had been hastily replaced after the Phlenenards uncovered a design flaw by reflecting the beam away safely. Instead, the Ohntonno fleets had all been retrofitted with cruder but more power particle beams. Their new allies, known in the Sphere as the Lost Ones, had provided these. The early losses the Ohntonno had incurred due to the Phlenenard’s discovery of their weapon’s weakness would be repaid.

Thirty stealth missiles sped towards the ISPAW fleet, as yet undetected. These had been fired hours earlier, arching out into space to enter the affray unexpectedly. The current fusillade of standard munitions between the two fleets was merely a distraction.

Neither fleet suffered drastically from the first salvo. The Ohntonno captains, having studied recent skirmishes between ISPAW and the Lost Ones’ fleets, were reasonably confident that the area between the fleets was now salted with various mines and booby traps.

With their allies behemoths approaching with their cargo of dropships and troops waiting to invade the nearby planet, the Ohntonno captains had scant time to spare.

Helm, prepare to move us around the debris, the captains ordered almost synchronously.

The crews of the Ohntonno command ships watched the screens as their stealth missiles approached the ISPAW fleet from below. Suddenly sirens and klaxons blared as six Preialeiac Na’Larturjax class destroyers appeared from nowhere. The configuration of the secret Preialeiac ships was still unknown to the Ohntonno and, for a second, the captain paused, trying to fathom who these new vessels belonged to. Each of the Preialeiac vessels split into seven parts – a carrying core and six sleek war vessels. Beams of light shot out from each, spearing the two command ships at the rear of the Ohntonno fleet.

The two Ohntonno command ships appeared to