This story originally appeared in Alien Dimensions Issue #3
Vik examined the miniature solar system in front of her. Small spheres pinned to ellipses, circled around a shining star. The space in between the objects was filled in with either light blue or light red showing the current layout of territories. The Mars-Earth close approach was only a few hours away. As it grew closer, tension was mounting. Vik could feel the fear in the room. She tried to focus on the projection in front of her to avoid feeling the knot in her stomach.
“Archivist?” Came a voice from behind her. She turned to see Admiral Cho, dressed in full uniform and standing rigid, as always. “We are ready when you give the final order.”
“Understood.” She said. He stared at her for a moment, then realizing she was not going to say any more, he bowed and stepped away.
How had it come to this? Vik thought back through the histories she had read. Their path had probably been set in the first wave of space colonization. So long ago, when Earth had colonized Mars. That bit of history was a strange notion to a Union citizen like Vik. They tended to think of the Jovians as something other-worldly, something alien. She had to actually remind herself that most of the Jovian citizens were humans, descended from the same race that she was. They were genetically engineered and adapted to their colonized worlds, but they had human origins.
Over a millennia before Vik was born, Mars had staged a revolution and won independence from Earth rule. The Martians then expanded into the asteroid belt and Jupiter’s system of moons.
Having lost Mars, the Earth colonized Earth’s moon, then Mercury and Venus. These four worlds became the founding members of the Terran Union. These core worlds built a ring of stations around the Sun to maximize their ability to use its energy output.
Lacking direct access to the Sun, the Jovians perfected antimatter and fusion energy. With this new technology, they pushed outward, colonizing all the asteroids caught in Jupiter’s gravity. They became such a superpower in the system that they eventually subsumed Mars and established the Jovian Confederacy. When this entity set its sights on the outer solar system, the Terran Union took notice, and a system wide war ensued.
Vik had read many accounts of that dark time. Interplanetary space became littered with the debris of shattered spacecraft. Even all these centuries later ships still found free floating bodies of crewmen who were cast into the vacuum as their warships were destroyed. Grounded citizens were not spared the horrors of that war. Mars, Venus, Mercury, and even Earth were all subjected to orbital attacks that cost millions of lives.
Eventually, the Terran Union won Neptune and its moons for themselves. The Jovian’s expertise in living far from the Sun gave them the upper hand in securing the outer dwarf planets and most of the Oort Cloud. Uranus and its moons became a “no man’s land”. They were only approached by either side for negotiations. Once the system was mostly claimed by one faction or the other, there was a lull in the violence. There was hope that the war would come to an end.
However, that hope had been misplaced. The transitive nature of orbiting celestial bodies meant that the borders between the two faction’s territories were constantly shifting. The Union’s core planets sometimes found themselves on the far side of the Sun from their allies, surrounded by Jovian worlds. Likewise, Jovian worlds might end up in the line of fire with their closest allies on the opposite side of the Sun. Worse still, every twenty-six months Earth and Mars, the two most densely populated worlds in the system, would make their closest approach. These shifting battle lines made for tempting targets that military powers could not ignore. So, fighting resumed, spurred on by each of these orbital opportunities. Every time a faction took advantage of one of these strategic moments, the violence would escalate.
Then, the hot war turned instantly cold. A small Union research station announced the creation of a superweapon, The Dante Spark. It was the culmination of a decades long military project commanded by a General Claiborne, who had been tasked with finding a way to end the bloodshed once and for all. The Dante Spark was the realization of that goal. Its nature was highly classified and no details of its capabilities were released to the public. Specifications of the device’s destructive power were sent to representatives of the Jovian Confederacy. Soon after, the Jovian military officials ordered all their combat personnel to stand down.
For a time, there was talk that the Terran Union was going to absorb the Jovian Confederacy and unite humanity under one government. Before that process could begin, the Jovians derailed those plans by providing General Claiborne evidence that they had successfully recreated the Dante Spark. They had a working superweapon of their own and they were prepared to use it against the Union should they attempt to occupy Jovian space.
So, the conflict that had raged for decades came to an end, replaced by a cold war. Ships from both sides carefully avoided crossing over the shifting borders. Diplomats regularly met at a specially constructed station orbiting Neptune to ensure that territory was clearly established and all parties were aware of the rules of their uneasy peace. The solar system persisted for a time under this new paradigm of mutually assured destruction.
Then, a new factor was introduced. The Jovians developed an FTL Drive. That technological leap made it possible for the Jovians to begin exploring and expanding into interstellar space. They immediately established a colony in the Centauri System.
The Terran Union was not to be outdone. They quickly reproduced their enemy’s technological breakthrough and developed their own FTL drive, setting up their first interstellar colony in the Barnard’s Star System.
Over the next few centuries the two space faring civilizations expanded out into the galaxy in opposite directions. By Vik’s time, a millennia after the initial conflict between Earth and Mars, both factions controlled a few dozen star systems. Unfortunately, the new age of exploration had done nothing to quell the animosity between the two factions.
Each faction began to make contact with extra-terrestrial species. The Jovian’s zeal for taking whatever raw materials the universe gave them and exploiting it to the fullest was extended to extra-terrestrial races. They occupied their systems and enslaved the populations. The Terran Union may well have done the same to the races they encountered, but a strong humanist movement among the citizenry convinced the government to offer the extra-terrestrials membership in the Union instead. Technically speaking, Valotians and the Tremal were not forced to join, but they both decided citizenship was preferable to occupation.
Although expanding into the galaxy brought them into contact with other races, it did effectively prevent the human factions from clashing with each other. Union strategists assured the citizens that the Terran Union could enjoy continued expansion for at least another twelve millennia without competing for territory with the Jovian Confederacy. That would be very comforting news were it not for the fact that the two factions had already been contesting the Solar System for a thousand years. Leaving the Solar System and resettling elsewhere would be no problem for the citizens living there, but both factions absolutely refused to give up the system. There was nothing particularly special about the system, economically speaking. It was no richer in resources than the dozens of other charted systems in the galaxy.
Though their leaders would never admit it, it came down to sentimentality. Earth was the birthplace of both factions. It held historical and spiritual significance to all humans and human variants. Mars was the primary world of the Confederacy. The thought of handing the planet over to the Terrans abhorred the Jovians. So, the factions, despite mutual distrust and disdain, were forced to cohabitate in the Solar System.
Vik returned her attention to the projection. She scrolled the time bar forward until Earth and Mars were at their closest point. That was when it would all come to a head. That would be the moment when they might finally activate the Dante Spark.
In person, the Dante Spark was not much to look at. It was pill-shaped, about three meters long and one meter across. Its surface was rough and grey making it look superficially like a giant reptile’s egg. Of course, Vik knew this was just the protective covering General Claiborne and his team had placed around the inactive device for safe storage. This grey covering had a ridge around the middle where the two halves of the “egg” had been sealed together.
With two Dante Sparks in play in their war both parties had opted to address their animosity in other ways. As the centuries passed, all border skirmishes and minor incidents were fought with more conventional weaponry. The Dante Spark sat unused on the station where it had been created for a time. Then, the Union government had ordered it moved to a more secure location. The most secure place in the system was the Antarctic Subterranean Archives, a massive depository for anything and everything carved into bedrock beneath the surface of Antarctica. The Archives were home to many items that could inspire both curiosity and fear – ancient literature, royal jewels, legal documents, embryos from extinct species, nuclear weapons. As Chief Archivist, Vik had been in charge of keeping these items and the Dante Spark secure for over thirty years.
Even she had little knowledge of what the egg-like seal actually contained. It had arrived at the Archives with a data chip containing instructions on its care and handling, directly from General Claiborne. Vik had reviewed his instructions many times. He assured the handlers that the device was of no danger as long as it remained sealed and unarmed. So, it could be safely transported to the Archives and returned to the station should it ever be called upon to fulfill its purpose.
There was no shortage of theories on the nature of the Dante Spark. What they did lack was details on its design and creation. They knew that it was about eight hundred years old.
Some believed that any dangerous material within may have long since become inert. But others were quick to point out that many materials remain unstable much longer.
A conspiracy-minded fringe believed it was a doomsday device, designed not just to kill off one faction, but to go beyond that. It might cause space to undergo a phase transition, altering the very laws of the universe and rendering it uninhabitable. Maybe it would send out an energy pulse that could denature the complex molecules of all living things. Perhaps it would create a black hole and draw in the entire Solar System.
The Tremal believed that Claiborne had opened a communication channel directly with the universe’s creator deity. Although, this idea was largely ignored among the humans and Valotians.
General Claiborne and his team had been so vague in his descriptions of the device’s power that almost any theories could be equally plausible. All that was known to Union citizens was that the Jovians feared the Dante’s Spark as much as they did.
The almost mythical object sat in an empty room, separated from Vik and the others by a transparent carbon nanotube reinforced wall. The crew of the station had all been staring at it for the last few minutes, reverent. Looking around, Vik saw many Union worlds represented in the room. There were even three Valotians among the crew complement. Not surprising since the Valotians had a penchant for the sciences and were very good at quick decision making in tense situations. Admiral Cho must have decided their presence on the station was prudent.
“One hour until opposition.” Admiral Cho reminded Vik. The station was placed at Earth’s second LaGrange point, the null gravity point just beyond the Earth’s orbit. From there, opposition would be the moment when Mars and the Sun would be on opposing sides of the Earth and they would have a clear line of fire to Mars, should the weapon prove to be something they could launch remotely.
“Okay,” She said, quietly, as if not to offend the object before them, “you may begin.”
As the head of Earth’s defense forces, Admiral Cho had requested that the Dante Spark be brought to the station. But, Vik was Chief Archivist. Cho could not perform any action regarding the device without her permission.
Cho nodded to the nearest Valotian. The alien tapped at controls with a clawed hand. Robotic instruments descended from the ceiling and slowly approached the object. A red laser beam began to drill into the ridge between the two “egg” halves.
“Claiborne’s instructions were very specific.” Vik reminded Cho. “A laser drill must be used to cut away at the seal to a depth of 14.3 centimeters in a nitrogen atmosphere. Then, the halves must be separated very carefully.”
Admiral Cho nodded. He knew all this already, but he appeared sympathetic to Vik’s need to feel like she was contributing. Now that the object was here and the process of opening it had begun, there was not much left for Vik to do. The ultimate decision to launch the Dante Spark or stand down would be Admiral Cho’s. However, as an archivist and a historian, once it was open, Vik may be able to lend some context to whatever they found inside.
It took the laser drill over two hours to completely remove the seal. By that time, Vik had resorted to pacing. She caught Cho looking at her and hated herself for the outward sign of her nervousness. She may have been in charge of caring for the Dante Spark, but she had never had reason to fear it. She had spent her career in the most secure facility in Union space. Vik was unaccustomed to being on space stations designed for combat. Then again, with the Dante Spark about to be active, there would be nowhere safe in the system, possibly the universe.
Vik couldn’t believe things had escalated this much. As the planetary close approach drew nearer tensions had increased exponentially. In the last few weeks, they had erupted into violence all along the border. For the first time in centuries the factions had made direct threats against each other’s settled worlds. In all her life, Vik had always known of the tension between her civilization and the Jovians, but this was the first time she felt genuine fear of an impending invasion. Even through the years of propaganda and pledge recitations she had endured, Vik still found herself questioning the sanity of her own leaders. Had things really gotten so bad that it was necessary to resurrect a superweapon so terrible it had held off total war for almost a millennium?
The Dante Spark was here. This was not the time for her to second guess her decision to release it. At the time, she had abated her doubt by reminding herself that the leaders knew more than she did. If they felt it was necessary to call on the Dante Spark, then that must be the case.
And yet, she still did not know what they intended to do with it. If it was a doomsday device would they use it to give the Jovian’s an ultimatum? If it was just powerful enough to wipe out one civilization would they hit the Jovians with a preemptive strike? The questions were moot until the casing was opened and they knew once and for all what it was that they possessed.
Vik’s pacing brought her within arm’s reach of a Valotian. They were the only other bipedal intelligent species that humans had so far encountered. The similarity with humans ended there. Their arms extended from a headless torso. Eyes and a mouth were located on the top of the central body mass. This Valotian’s mouth was covered with a device that allowed it to render human speech.
“Excuse me.” She said uncertainly. This was her first time addressing an extra-terrestrial. She had not seen any humans address the Valotian verbally, but she assumed it could understand her. “Do you know how much longer the process will take?”
“My instruments indicate it will be completed in two minutes and fourteen seconds.” The alien replied.
“Oh. Thank you. What do you think we will find inside?” She asked. It may not have been the best time to try to strike up a conversation with an alien, but it was an opportunity she could not resist.
“I have very little data from which to render a hypothesis.” A sensible answer.
“If it is a doomsday device, do you think we will launch it?”
“Also difficult to ascertain with available data. Humanity managed to survive the atomic age without self-destruction. But, this does not preclude the possibility that the outcome of the present situation will also be as positive.”
“Did the Valotians ever have a cold war?” Vik asked, intrigued.
“No. My people began using atomic weaponry from the moment it was developed. We employed atomic weapons in our wars over the course of six hundred Earth years.”
“And you didn’t kill yourselves off?” Vik asked in shock.
“No. Because we used the weapons often, there was no build-up of atomic arsenals. No arms race. Although, it is believed that we did stunt the development of our technology. This is likely the reason my people had still not developed space travel when Humanity arrived in our system.”
Vik was about to reply, but the Valotian cut her off, “The unsealing is complete. The casing is now being opened.”
Vik walked quickly back to the transparent wall. Robotic arms gently held the two halves of the casing. Bit by bit, they slowly pulled the halves apart. Thinner robotic arms slipped into the opening to grasp whatever it contained, so it did not fall to the floor. After an insufferable amount of time, the halves were totally removed and a silver box was left behind, cradled by robotics.
“Can we scan the contents?” Admiral Cho asked. The casing had been too dense for any scanning technique to tell them what was inside.
“Already complete.” Said the Valotian. “You might want to see this.”
He walked quickly to the Valotians control console and examined the readings.
“Go ahead and open it,” he said, stoically.
The robotics went to work opening the silver box. From within, emerged a green bottle. Vik saw a label and pressed herself against the transparent wall trying to read it. One of the operators obligingly had the robotic arms carry the bottle closer to the wall. The lettering on the label was strange, but similar enough to modern Union text language that she could read it.
Venusian champagne. It was a bottle of Venusian champagne. Around the neck of the bottle there was a string attached to a data chip.
Cho noticed it too. “Can we access the data chip?”
“Yes sir.” Replied a human operator. “It’s an old format, but it looks like an audio file.”
“Play it.”
A man began to speak in an old dialect. “Hello Union citizens… or whoever else I may be addressing. I am General Claiborne. I hope the champagne has found you well. Although perhaps not if you felt it necessary to open the casing and access the Dante Spark. My hope is that the Dante Spark has been opened for its historical and scientific significance and that its use as a weapon is no longer required. I truly hope I am speaking to human beings in a faraway future where petty differences do not need to be addressed with superweapons. So, as to this superweapon… it doesn’t exist.
“Sorry to disappoint, but what you see is what you get. I was tasked with ending the bloodshed, so that is what my team and I did. We contacted a research and development team in the Jovian Confederacy and we hatched a little gambit. Both of our teams agreed to claim that we both had a superweapon. We knew we would be believed if we vouched for each other. We figured if everyone believed that the Dante Spark were real, then we would have a cold war rather than a hot one. It worked in the atomic age. Mutually assured destruction, and all that.
“On top of that, I also hoped that a cold war may spark another expansion. After all, it was a cold war that led to the development of space flight in the first place. It is my sincere hope that you find yourselves in a golden age of interstellar colonization. If so, then have this fine Venusian champagne to celebrate. If not… well then just drink. Best of luck.”
The room was silent. Vik tried to process Claiborne’s words. The Dante Spark had all been a ruse.
“What do we do now, Sir?” an operator asked Admiral Cho. “The close approach is imminent.”
“We have no weapon to launch.” The Admiral said. For the first time, Vik saw uncertainty in his eyes.
“Your war will proceed with conventional weapons then.” The Valotian stated. “Battleships, drones, orbital bombardments.”
“And millions will die.” Vik pointed out.
“But they need not be Union citizen deaths. Our knowledge of the nature of the Dante Spark gives us a strategic advantage. We could launch a first strike.”
“No!” Vik yelled at the Valotian. “There has been enough of that.” She turned to Cho. “Admiral, tell them! Contact the Jovians. Tell them that their Dante Spark is a ruse. Call for a negotiation. A secession of hostilities.”
“They won’t listen to us. They won’t work with us.” Cho said.
“They might. They did once. Their research team worked with Claiborne. He recognized that the Jovians have the same fears we do and by collaborating with them, they prevented a bloody all-out war. Their collaboration- that was their superweapon.”
“It might be effective.” The Valotian capitulated.
Cho exhaled heavily. “Contact the Jovian military command. Share our data with them regarding the Dante Spark.” A smile creeped into his expression “Maybe they’ve got a bottle of Plutonian Scotch.