Black Hole Son
“All quite fascinating, Doctor. And the agent will be capable of
reforming the world to our specifications?”
“From what we know of this, hm, “atmosphere”, a
chain reaction can be started which should, uh, bind all the offending
gases into, er, solid compounds, leaving the planet much more suitable
for, ah, habitation. And releasing a considerable amount of, hm,
energy in the process. All native life should be quite thoroughly
destroyed, should everything go, hm, go to plan, yes.”
“And if it does not?”
“We’re not, uh, really at all sure. Over the course of
the, ah, war, our science has advanced at a, hm, an alarming rate,
yes, but the problem is that no one really, hm, really understands
things terribly well. We have, uh, theories, yes? But a great number
of things could go quite splendidly wrong. We can divorce the
consciousness from the, uh, physical body, yes, this we know. Motile
consciousness is our new, er, our new toy. We’re really not too
keen on the, uh, tinkering aspect, you see. We’d rather that
happened, uh, somewhere far away, yes. At worst we lose the planet but
retain the, uh, the killing. Are we still quite firm on the
killing?”
“They have a planet, Doctor. Our people can finally have space
to live. They can be allowed children, Doctor, more than one. And
there is the yellow sun.”
“Yes, but, uh...”
“We have no space, Doctor, and precious little food. Mass riots
are perhaps days away. We must fill those colony ships if we are to
have any chance of survival. Will our fleet be able to keep pace with
your...package?”
“Not quite. He paves the way for us, you see. The new ships were
designed to take advantage of the, hm, unique quantum effects we have
managed to engineer. It was deemed best not to risk further matter
compression, as the delay in the fleet’s arrival should be, er,
rather trivial. Yes.”
“Very good, Doctor. I shall await your report. You have my full
authorisation to enter the final phase of the operation to reclaim our
destiny.”
The Doctor swung his eyestalks towards the red light streaming
through the window far above, and shook his head.
“Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow we can begin the, uh,
procedure.” He sighed, and turned to watch the retreating figure
of his project supervisor slither through the doorway.
“Times are gone for honest men,” muttered the Doctor. But
he was quite alone.
You can find the complete version of Black Hole Son in issue 52 of TBD.