The Chaos Weapon

  THE CHAOS WEAPON

  COLIN KAPP

  www.sfgateway.com

  Enter the SF Gateway …

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Gateway Introduction

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Website

  Also by Colin Kapp

  About the Author

  Copyright

  ONE

  UNDER skies the hue of ancient lead, the threat of disaster brooded over the planet of Monai. Half a year of continuous snowfall had altered the shape of the mountains above the capital city of Edel, and millions upon millions of tons of precarious mass awaited the imperceptible signal to join in catastrophic avalanche. Crouching beneath its protective mountain outcrop, the frozen city viewed the altered heights with faint amazement but without undue alarm; the long granite backbone was a time-honored guardian that divided the great slips and diverted them with relatively little harm.

  A small snow-cat was ploughing its way toward Edel from the east, following the line of the frozen and snow-locked Spring River. At the controls, Asbeel had eyes for nothing but the immediate route ahead. He and his companion had driven far, the cat’s controls were heavy and tiresome, and the cabin was hot to the point of near suffocation. His powerful frame rested unhappily in the inadequate bucket seat, and the jolting of the iron control column had substantially bruised the inside of his sinewed thighs.

  In the rear of the cat, Jequn looked only at the snows poised breathlessly above Edel. He was slightly smaller than Asbeel, and his face was constantly alive with questing speculation; his dark, intelligent eyes mirroring his appraisal of secret fears, and haunted with strange foreboding. He read in the brooding heights a message his companion had not seen. He kept the thought to himself until the myriad factors in the mental equation hardened into a daunting certainty.

  “Asbeel, we’re driving into a trap.”

  “Are you certain?” The driver did not falter at the controls, but the lethargy induced by heat and boredom dropped from his shoulders like a mantle. Instantly he was the taut animal his training and experience had caused him to become.

  “I’m certain. I can see it now. A rime of tension on the trees.”

  “I see only hoar frost.”

  “The bush-edges have a slight double-diffraction. There’s a stress building in the continuum.”

  “Your eyes must be more sensitive than mine.”

  “Can’t you feel the tension rising? Causality’s been suspended in this place. A catastrophe which should have taken place has been held to await our coming. If we enter Edel, the trap will spring.”

  “The Chaos Weapon?” Asbeel asked.

  “What else? We’re entering a prime focus. We should have guessed they’d try it on us again sooner or later.”

  “Well, we’ve beaten it before. Let’s see if we can’t do it this time.”

  Two kilometers out from Edel, Asbeel turned the cat away from the course of the frozen river and drove it into a rocky cutting. Here he muted the engine and joined Jequn in the rear of the cabin.

  “As I read it, one of us has to go into Edel to make contact with Kasdeya. We’re looking at two causal chains—the chain involving Edel, which has been placed in suspension, and a chain of cause and effect which brings one of us to this point of coincidence. One of us can go into Edel with a chance of survival. Theoretically, the other stands no chance at all.”

  “The question then becomes,” said Jequn, “which one of the pair of us has been linked with Edel’s coming catastrophe. Exactly what brought us to this point?”

  “Kasdeya. He asked us to pick him up. I piloted the ship, but it was your decision which set the timing. Perhaps we’re all involved.”

  “Never! You can calculate the directions of two causal chains and manipulate the odds to ensure they intersect at a catastrophe. But the mathematics to handle three or more causal chains is never likely to exist. These events have to be designed around just one of us—but we don’t have enough information to decide which.”

  “Supposing neither of us goes into Edel?”

  “Then Kasdeya’s dead for sure. At this moment the Chaos Weapon is straining to hold off some great natural disaster.” As he spoke, Jequn’s eyes were scanning the profiles of the surrounding rocks, reading how the stress in the continuum was warping the path of the light reflected from the rocks. Farther back and high above, potential avalanches hung poised in a kind of stasis. “They must be tapping a young star a second to get power for an operation like this. If the coincidence doesn’t take place soon, something has to snap. When it does, all that power will be released in one almighty backlash. It’ll shatter this territory from end to end.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “I’ll tell you. Drop me off here with a balloon, and take the cat a few kilometers out into the plain. Look for a spot where there seem to be no natural faults in the terrain. I’ll try not to provoke the Chaos reaction until you’re there, then I’ll go in and try to reach Kasdeya. When the catastrophe breaks, move back fast and rescue the both of us.”

  “What if it’s you the Chaos Weapon’s aimed at?”

  “Don’t worry! It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve cheated Chaos. As long as the entropy equations are satisfied, it isn’t particularly selective. If necessary, someone else’s death can substitute for mine.”

  Unknown to the cat’s occupants, other eyes were watching. Across the valley, high on a windswept plateau, the Galactic Deep-Space Observatory had become host to unusual visitors. Two spacecraft had made planetfall close to the observatory complex, and these formed the nucleus o
f an observational network directed not spaceward but on to the heights over Edel and across the cold approaches of the snowpacked plain. They were now well placed for a unique and privileged view of the disaster that threatened Edel. Yet the snows so precariously balanced above the city did not justify the awful foreboding of the computer predictions. Written wide across the Chaos printouts was the suggestion of an energy release many orders of magnitude greater than the avalanche could provide. This prediction had brought out the inquisitive ships from Terra to rest on this gaunt rock shoulder on Monai.

  They looked for the unusual, but found nothing. Indeed, the only activity of any interest at all occurred when a small snow-cat appeared unexpectedly on the terrain scanner. Aboard the lab-ship Heisenberg, Space-Marshal Cass Hover called for a visual image and was presented with a telescopic view originating from a scanner set on the plateau’s edge. Scowling, Hover read off the identification letters on the cat’s dark hull.

  “Local?”

  Captain Rutter shook his head. “With that index it’d have to come from somewhere way out—around New Sark, at a guess. And he’s sure going to be sorry he made the journey. If that Chaos printout’s true, all hell’s going to get loose just about the time that cat hits Edel.”

  “What’s that?” asked a voice from the rear. The speaker was a tall, dark, bearded man whose black cloak eternally hugged his shoulders almost as if the attachment was symbiotic. “Can you check that timing out for me?”

  “Sure!” Rutter detailed two technicians with a movement of his finger. “What’s on your mind, Saraya?”

  “I can’t abide mysteries, that’s all,” the dark man said moodily. “Not in Chaos work. We’ve just rechecked the soundings on the snows over Edel and calculated the worst-case energy release. It forms a barely measurable part of the entropy change predicted by the Chaos equation. There has to be another factor at work here.”

  “It checks out, Captain.” One of the technicians handed Rutter a strip of printout. “If that cat keeps going on its present course and speed it’ll meet the Chaos Omega point precisely in the center of Edel.”

  “Which has to be something more than a coincidence.” The dark man stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Lock some surveillance equipment on to that cat, and try and find out where it came from and who’s in it.”

  “If I understand you correctly,” Hover said, “that cat would have to contain a couple of fusion warheads if it were going to satisfy the entropy equation.”

  “I doubt if it’s anything that simple,” said Saraya. “Rutter, how did the Edel authorities react to the prediction of instant extinction?”

  “With a polite but disbelieving smile. Their emergency resources are on standby, but they regard the whole exercise as rather academic.”

  “Let’s hope for their sakes that’s the case. But if it is, it will be the first time one of our Chaos predictions of this magnitude has proved unfounded.”

  “I’ve always thought of Chaos prediction as being on a par with astrology,” said Hover mischievously, puzzling over the focus of his screens.

  “That’s because the field acquired too many practitioners with neither the intelligence nor the financial backing to exercise it properly. Even at ChaosCenter it’s still not an exact science. But if I had any personal doubts, the existence of that cat headed precisely for Chaos Omega would make me think very carefully.”

  “Then I’m sorry to disappoint you, Saraya, but the cat has just pulled off course and headed into the rocks.”

  “Damn!” The dark man bent to the screens to verify the statement, then retired to the rear of the instrument room to consult some notes. Captain Rutter caught Hover’s eye and they exchanged a mutual glance of disbelief in the dark man’s certainty. Then the rigors of the Chaos countdown began to demand all their attention.

  Soon the only sound to be heard in the lab-ship’s instrument room was the muted whisper of the air-conditioning system. The interest that had been generated by the cat’s arrival drained to quiet concentration on the instrument boards and screens. Meanwhile in the background the Chaos indicator began the slow countdown toward the onset of theoretical catastrophe.

  Omega minus ten …

  Hover was constantly having to adjust the focus of his scanner, which obstinately refused to retain a clear picture. The other technicians were having similar problems.

  Omega minus eight …

  The dark figure in the cloak ruffled through his sheets of notes like a miserly bat counting his assets.

  Omega minus six …

  The laser technician monitoring the snows above Edel wore an expression which indicated no significant change in the area of his observations.

  Omega minus four …

  Captain Rutter’s concentration was disturbed by a recurring flicker of vision which he could only detect with the corners of his eyes and only because all movement in the room had virtually ceased. The image troubled him. He could have sworn that something flickered over Space-Marshal Hover’s left shoulder.

  Omega minus two …

  The pantograph on the tracing plotter broke into a frenzied burst of activity, sketching a large eye-shape with increasing definition. The crossed datum lines in the center of the plot fell precisely at the intersection of the major and minor axes of the eye as the Chaos computers confirmed imminent disaster—the drawn eye filled toward the middle, the center of the sightless pupil being complete at exactly …

  Chaos Omega!

  The complete lack of any immediate reaction was probably as great a psychological shock as the eruption of violent activity would have been. All the observers remained frozen and immobile, their attentions welded to their instruments in case they were missing the obvious in the unchanging indications of the static readouts. In the meantime the cat reappeared from behind the rocks and headed back the way it had come.

  The dark man, his face painted with disbelief, let his notes drop to the floor as he moved toward the plotting table to examine the errant eye. His examination did nothing to resolve the paradox.

  “What do we do now?” Rutter asked after a while. “The only catastrophe appears to be that we all go home with egg on our faces.”

  That remark dropped the level of tension immediately. Most of the technicians relaxed and leaned back in their seats; some smiling with relief at the lack of activity, and some frowning because of it. Only Hover remained crouched over his screen, his fingers striving to maintain its failing acuity.

  “Hold it!” The marshal’s sudden command brought an almost electric shock to those assembled. “The cat dropped somebody off. He’s heading into town on foot.”

  “Are you sure, Cass?” Saraya was at his side in an instant.

  “See for yourself.” Hover moved back to one of the more general screens, which was still giving a fairly clear view of the landscape between the point where the cat had rested and the outskirts of Edel. There, a couple of black dots against the mainly featureless background showed plainly where a man was thrusting his way through the deep snow, dragging behind him a bundle attached to the end of a rope.

  “Why, in the name of space, should he bother to walk?” Rutter wondered. “The cat hadn’t broken down—it just took off back the way it came.” He looked to Saraya for an answer, then immediately wished he had not. The curious passion on the dark man’s face was a daunting thing to see.

  “I’ll tell you why,” said Saraya. “Suddenly the pieces begin to fit. I think that character down there had some inkling of the Chaos prediction. Somehow he’s bucking the odds.”

  “Explain that to me in words of one syllable,” said Rutter.

  The dark man drew closer to the screen, and there was a strong undercurrent of emotion in his voice. “Chaos predictions analyze chains of cause and effect by reading the patterns of entropic change which the chains radiate as they unravel. The entropic events can be likened to pearls strung out on a string, with the axes coincident between cause and effect. Given sufficient i
nformation, a chain can be read either backward or forward in time.”

  “I said one syllable words,” said Rutter plaintively.

  Saraya ignored him, an immense enthusiasm glowing rare behind his eyes. “Imagine your string of pearls laid out on a table. Then imagine another string crossing it at right angles, with just one pearl—one entropic event—common to both chains.”

  “I get the picture but not the message.”

  “Coincidence. Cause begats effect, and effect follows cause. Don’t you see where I’m leading?”

  “Hardly!”

  “At the pearl which is coincident to both, the sequence of cause and effect in each chain must be complete up to that point, or else the event marked by the entropy cannot happen. It’s a philosophical and actual impossibility for an effect to take place for which the cause is missing, or for a cause to happen without direct association with its effects.”

  “If you’re trying to make the point I think you’re making, I don’t wish to hear it,” said Rutter. “The implications give me a headache in the pit of my stomach.”

  “The implications are, my military friend, that the chain of cause and effect which controls the fate of Edel is linked at some point with the chain controlling that fellow out there. Somehow he’s already thrown the Chaos prediction adrift by better than eleven minutes. At his pace it’ll be nearly an hour adrift by the time he reaches Chaos Omega. With that sort of talent you could buckle the universe.”

  “Does that mean Chaos Omega won’t now take place?”

  “Far from it. The entropy increase which signals this event is part of recorded Chaos. It’s already tomorrow’s absolute history. Nothing can alter the fact that it must occur.”

  “Somebody’s already delayed it,” Rutter pointed out reasonably.

  “But at what cost? Theoretically, delay can only be achieved by straining the fabric of the whole continuum. I hate to think how much power that might consume. And since we know the continuum is elastic, that precise amount of power is going to be released when the point of coincidence is finally achieved.”