Zephyr, Tau Ceti, 16.27.775 CW

23.7 megaseconds since the catastrophe

Zephyr's boat bay was wide enough to accommodate two shuttles simultaneously, so an order was contrived whereby Karenski would come across a bit early. Donato would arrive just a little ahead of Josefilo as befit his rank, but they would debark and be piped aboard simultaneously. Nobody was feeling like standing too much on ceremony, but Singer knew her crew well enough to know that a small amount of routine ceremony like piping aboard two foreign dignitaries would boost morale and pride. It was objectively silly, and before she'd become a commanding officer, she'd have rolled her eyes upon hearing that it was happening. She also wouldn't have had to be part of it.

Those days were gone, and all these things were her problem now...and she actually would no longer have had it any other way.

So they came aboard, her officers and Kasel in dress uniforms. Kasel piped them aboard. Everyone involved had already met, except Donato and Josefilo, so there was no need for the "here are my officers" routine. Donato, for a wonder had come over without so much as an aide. He and Karenski shook hands like the old friends they were. Josefilo of course did not shake hands, confined as he was to his lightweight encounter suit, but sketched a very respectful little bow that Donato took in stride. Donato, Singer was sure, had met Thessalians before.

They all headed to the boat bay deck briefing room. Here was another thing Singer was surprised to realize she was used to. She had rarely seen the main briefing room back on Bellerophon or Vesta, let alone the boat bay briefing room.

Once in the briefing room, Singer, as host, said, "Please, everyone, find seats as you like. I think we're best served by keeping this friendly and not rigidly official."

Singer saw Donato's shoulders relax a fraction. Whether it was relief at not having to be formal or at not having to be in charge she couldn't tell.

That thought sent a sudden frisson down her spine. I'm on to something, Singer thought. She was suddenly sure—as sure as if her empathy had become telepathy—that Donato was looking for exactly that. Not to be out of the game, but to not be in charge of it.

So, she took the initiative. "So. Black Twenty?" She tried to keep it light-hearted, even though there was nothing light about Black Twenty.

Donato let out a sigh. It was a defeated sort of sound. His shoulders drooped just a little more. "New China has always been at the forefront of nanotechnology. They've never been reckless. They never denied the risks. They were going further than we—David's Star—are comfortable with, but we know ourselves to be conservative." He paused there.

O'Halloran stepped in. "They were to nanotech what we were to AI."

Donato considered that. "Kind of. David's Star has very advanced AI, as well. We have the institute for a reason after all. We just decided at some point to stop personifying it the same way. And of course, the core code base is very different, which is why we weren't susceptible to whatever happened. But we used to. My ship's namesake partnered with one most of his life. She's equally famous to us, although most of the diaspora has probably forgotten both of them.

"We've never taken nanotech where they did. They were regrowing limbs, rearranging their own physiology at will and then putting it back again, tapping into their networks with even more ease that Lieutenant Cadotte here. But they never lost sight of the risks. As insular as they were, we had regular exchanges of media and news, so we knew, or thought we did..." He trailed off. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling. With all that's happened it ought to be hard to shock me, but for some reason, this one has hit me hard. Anyway, here's the report we have from Captain Erasmus."

He took out a data rod and slotted it in. The holoprojectors came to life, first with Erasmus' report given when he logged in on arrival at David's Star, and then all the sensor readings, including the video taken by probe while Erasmus kept his ship well outside Xin Taiyang's heliosphere.

At first glance, the planet had become a uniform, sickly grey. Closer examination showed that the cloud was roiling, constantly shifting. If there was any purpose to the motion, it was not apparent. It didn't appear to be actively doing anything, building anything. It was just Brownian motion.

The probe shifted from visual to other spectra. Each different view showed similar results but different depth. Finally, one view—Singer had stopped paying attention to what sort of scanning was being used for it—showed there was still a solid core under all the roil. No cities, no people, no infrastructure, but there was still a discernible solid sphere.

Cadotte said it aloud. "So, there's still a planet there, at least." Singer was now shielding herself, not daring to allow everyone's emotions at seeing this nightmare playing out in real life into her nervous system. She thought however that Cadotte sounded like someone fighting to be clinical to avoid screaming.

"There is, but we know what its diameter should be. It's definitely being devoured. A lot of the churn in the clouds is displacement. At some point, the swarm will peel off the last layer before the magma. We're honestly not sure what happens after that."

"Has the swarm shown any sense of purpose?" asked Josefilo, "Or is just...eating?"

"So far, it seems to just be eating; which is why we also currently predict that it will peel away down to the magma layer. If it had any sense of...self, any sapience, we figure it would know enough to stop. Variations of Black Twenty include swarms that do learn from what they're absorbing, but there's never been a known real-world example of that. Of course, until now, there had never been a known real-world example of this, either."

Everyone was silent at that point. It was hard to know even what questions to ask. The enormity of watching an entire planet being eaten left them all speechless.

Singer broke that silence. "I gather they didn't leave behind a probe or relay?"

Donato shook his head. "No, and I agree with that decision. Without knowing the vector that triggered this...event, Erasmus decided not to risk the possibility that a triggering signal could ride the relay. Of course, he didn't know yet about the rest of the catastrophe, or about the Big Signal, although he's since had his people analyzing not just their own comms buffers, but all the other data we've gathered. He's got Buzz Aldrin pegged in a distant orbit from David's Star, afraid they somehow carried some spore of it with them despite having been extremely prudent. My personal feeling is that he might be overcautious, but after the clear distortion of our own botanical nanots, and the subsequent ruin of our green spaces, I decided not to press the point."

Singer said, "I had wondered how you pried Vincent away from Erasmus. I actually was afraid something had happened to him. I don't know him, mind you, but it was clear that he was expecting to be commanding one of the two new ships. I figured something catastrophic must have happened for Silverman to let you come here in person."

Donato sighed again. Then got the first ghost of a smile she'd seen on him since he'd come aboard. Even renewing acquaintance with Karenski had only brought grave courtesy. "I didn't give her a choice. 'Admiral' is now merely a courtesy title. Erasmus is Admiral of the Outbound, now. It was the only way I could arrange it, with Erasmus unwilling to break quarantine."

That bombshell might have had more brisance if they hadn't just seen Black Twenty made real, so Singer just said, "So you really do think Erasmus is overreacting to the possibility of contagion." It wasn't a question.

"I do, but it's now his decision entirely. He can always resign in turn, and there are three other qualified people, including Hannah bat Chaya, who you've met, if he does, but I don't think he will, and the steady stream of messages we've received from him since leaving show he's establishing himself despite reposing at a distance. One great thing about life in a teacup-sized system—he can do his job almost as effectively out on the fringe as he could at home on Newer York."

Karenski finally broke his own stunned silence. "So, you're here as emissary? Like, officially?"

"I am. I tried to convince Ellison to come with me to act as our ambassador. She gave it more consideration than I expected her to, but declined." He sighed yet again—that was becoming his favorite form of punctuation, Singer noted. "So you're stuck with me, and G-d Herself knows I'm no diplomat.

"Meanwhile, I'm behind on saying that I did receive and review your reports on why our friend kolonelo Josefilo is here. I think we can now safely conclude that someone entirely too clever has targeted us all. The only question that remains is how much of the damage done was intended, and how much was a plan gotten out of control."

Karenski got thoughtful at this. "They might not have intended atrocity, you mean?"

Donato nodded. "What they've done at David's Star is a disruption, certainly, but we'll recover from it. Thessaly's plight, now that it's recognized, can probably be addressed with research, although of course that does nothing to help the children already born without the benefit of being able to breathe the open air of the planet."

Alexander said, "Castor and Pollux."

Donato blinked. "That went by a little fast for me."

But Singer had caught the drift. "Two of Bellerophon's AIs had started acting weird before the actual catastrophe. The current iterations were spared madness for the opposite reason of Chef—they were on a newer template than the vulnerable one because they'd been baselined. Robin, you're thinking they were part of a test run?"

"Yes," ze said. "And if the admiral's thesis is correct, their oddity may have been closer to the originally intended result. If most of the AIs that went mad instead simply began being extremely eccentric at the same time, we would have been distracted. We'd probably have called in our ships, bent our efforts toward investigation, but assumed it was just a bug that had been introduced. Something that could be fixed, baselined, worked around. Which may well have been true, given the results with Castor and Pollux."

Singer looked at Cadotte. Even through the shields she had put up against her gift, Cadotte's growing rage was palpable, but they just kept silent, visibly grinding their teeth.

Espinoza then said, "What about New China. We think that might have been an accident, too?"

Donato looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "It's hard to say. They were one of the only other colonies to originate from Old Earth before the Great Flare. They kept to themselves, much as their Earthbound namesake had at various times in its history. They participated, as I said, in the ancient round of information exchange that was the main way the diaspora was bound together before the Tau Ceti Treaty started trying to pull something more coherent together. At the same time, they insisted they weren't really part of the diaspora, per se, which they saw as defined solely by secondary colonies tracing back to David's Star. They made very few friends, but also no active enemies that I'm aware of.

"All of that said...I can't immediately think of anybody any of us has wronged so badly that they would want to cause a catastrophe on the scale of what happened to the TCTO, let alone do that!" He thrust an emphatic hand at the holo.

Everyone sat with that a moment, and then Karenski said, "So, what next?"

Cadotte managed to unfreeze their jaw. "The puzzle's still missing too many pieces."

Donato nodded. "Unfortunately, Lieutenant, I have to agree, and the analogy to a puzzle is apt. If this were a jigsaw puzzle, I'd say we've managed to connect all the edge pieces and maybe started to fill in a corner, but there's still a lot of empty middle."

Singer wondered at her temerity, being heavily outranked in this company despite being the host, as she said, "Momentous as this information is, it doesn't seem like there's much to be gained by sitting and staring at each other about it. I'd like to suggest that this room remain reserved as a common working room. Anyone who feels like they might have a piece of the puzzle to try to fit in, let's do it in here. I'll give orders that this room is now reserved as our war room."

She heard a gasp when she said the words, "war room." She hadn't intended it literally when she said it. Not consciously. But she had to admit it was probably the truth. Josefilo had been right, a meg or so ago. They were at war with a still unseen enemy who was willing to commit atrocities. She wasn't sure if the idea that those atrocities might have been accidents made her feel better or worse about that enemy.

She recovered, and continued, "Admirals, kolonelo, allow me to extend to you the hospitality of the ship for the long term. If you want, quarters can be made ready for you to remain aboard rather than shuttling around."

Donato looked almost as if he'd been expecting it, and said, "Thank you, Commander. As much as my XO might be made cranky by my not returning to our own pride and joy, I will take you up on that."

Josefilo was clearly thinking about it, and said, "My own XO will be downright angry with me, I fear; but I also think you're right that my place is here, where we can confer in something like privacy."

Karenski found himself the subject of everyone's attention. "By contrast, I'm pretty sure McCaffery will be thrilled to have me out of her hair for a few days. I'm in."

Singer nodded. Realizing that she had somehow become the chair of this meeting, she said, "Very well, then. Let's plan on all meeting after Beta Shift and see if we've had any useful insights. If anyone has an appetite after that, we'll eat up on the observation deck. Does that work for everyone?"

There were murmurs of assent and no opposition. "Then if you'll excuse me I think I will go sit in the hot-seat, and at least some of my officers probably need to at least pretend things are normal. Wayra," she said to Cadotte, deliberately invoking her science officer's personal name.

It had the desired effect—it startled them out of their dangerous frame of mind as they said, "Yes'm?"

"I'm going to leave this up to you: do you want to stay and help dig into the data?"

"Captain, I do."

Singer thought a moment, then said, "Very well. You and Espinoza stay and do so."

"Captain?" This came from Doctor Saito.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"I'd also like to stay. Nanotechnology is an area of study for me—after all, we all rely on nano-immunology. I might have an insight. We have no real medical crisis on our hands at the moment."

She saw Kasel nodding, which she took as an assumption of responsibility on his part. "All right, Doctor. The rest of us will go back to our routine, I think. It seems odd to do, but if we're going to avoid this news exploding before we're ready to say more useful things about it, I think at least a show of normality is called for."

Josefilo spoke up. "Actually, there is one more thing, if I could confer separately with you and Doctor Saito for a moment."

Bemused, she said, "Very well. There's a compartment across the hall where we can talk."

Saito, also bemused, followed her and Josefilo out.

Once the hatch to the smaller work room was closed, Josefilo said, "Doctor, what would be involved in providing me with nano-immunological protection, or other inoculation against what might be running around unnoticed by those blessed with it?"

Saito blinked. "A simple injection, actually. There are various treatments that require us to deactivate a person's nanots, so there are provisions for providing a new system when needed for replacement."

Singer found herself objecting before she could stop herself. "Aren't you concerned..." she stopped. Josefilo finished for her, "...that I won't be allowed home? I am, but it will be difficult for me to enjoy dinner if I'm confined to this encounter suit, after all. Worst comes to worst, I have the good doctor here deactivate and purge them the way he might for those patients he just described before I return to my ship."

Singer looked at Saito, who seemed to be debating ethics with himself, but finally said, "Very well. Now?"

"No. Let's go back and confer with our colleagues. We will contrive a break later, I'm sure."

Saito nodded, then looked at Singer. She hesitated, then finally said, "All right. I hope the risk is worth it."

The rest of the shift passed in seeming routine. The absence of Cadotte and Espinoza might have been noticed, but it was widely known there were problems being solved, so it wasn't so strange. At one point, Cordé noted an incoming priority communication for Donato, which Singer ordered passed on to his queue. She was curious, but she was not going to snoop on the man's mail.

Still, when word reached her in her office, having left Cordé in the hot-seat, that the working group had mostly taken a break so that Donato could read his mail, she let herself scratch the itch and headed back down to the war room.

Singer arrived to find Donato there, staring at something different looping on the table's holo. His face reflected almost none of the turmoil she could tell he was feeling. He looked outwardly calm at first glance, but he felt like a man on the edge of losing control and laughing like he'd gone mad.

Second glance showed a look she could not quite define. His head was actually resting on his arms. While looking right at the holo, his actual expression was a thousand-meter stare. He looked exhausted by one impossibility too many. Despite still not liking him very much, she found herself very much sympathizing.

A moment later, Espinoza walked in behind her with Cadotte. He stopped short, eyes fixed on the display, almost as mesmerized as Donato, and finally said, "What the entire, gold-plated, bona fide fuck?!"

She had not actually looked at the holo very closely. Espinoza's outburst drew her attention sharply to the display. One corner identified the image as originating from DSS Baldursdottir's report, which presumably was the mail Donato had received. The sidebar included a wealth of readings that meant very little to Singer, except that they also identified the location being focused on as LHS 1140, at point between the orbits of 1140 b and c.

The loop showed a twisting of space, then a small object emerging, bringing itself to station-keeping, pausing, and then spinning around and heading back, disappearing through the same impossible hole, which closed up behind it.

Cadotte recovered first, saying, "Did someone just open a portable hole deep in 1140's well?"

Donato, without changing his expression, responded. "Yes, Lieutenant. They damned well did."