Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [136]
He walked quickly to the next station, and Peter and Estarra rapidly forgot their usual regal pace. The engineer ducked under the curvature of a large fragment. “We haven’t found any intact machinery, or engines, or components of their weaponry systems. It’s just a bunch of broken junk.”
The King ran his fingers along the cool, slick surface. “What about analyzing the material composition? Can we replicate it—or at least use the information to modify our fracture-pulse torpedoes or carbon-carbon bond disruptors?”
“Maybe. Four of my best materials researchers are working on a small fragment of the hull. Computer simulations and nondestructive analyses just didn’t give us anything. I gave them permission to unleash all the fury of Earth, hoping to find something that’ll chip the armor.” Swendsen paced around the site. “One man told me the project was a dream come true—using his advanced training and expertise to smash things. He likes that.”
“Well, the faeros managed to wreck this one,” Estarra pointed out.
“Believe me, we’re trying our damnedest to reproduce the technique.” From a slick information screen, Swendsen displayed tables of data and the results of numerous tests, then turned with a tsk-tsk noise from the results. “When I think of how much we learned from dismantling that one Klikiss robot, I wish we could get a fraction as much from this derelict.”
Luckily, this wasn’t the only project the Hansa had in the works. Only a week before, King Peter had made a formal inspection tour of the giant rammer ships under construction, sixty new kamikaze Mantas designed to smash warglobes. Hansa manufacturing facilities also continued to pump out huge numbers of new Soldier compies to help crew EDF ships, though Peter still had reservations about them.
The engineer rapped his big knuckles against the hard diamond hull, and the alien ship completely absorbed the sound. “I’m just not sure how much more we can wring out of this thing.”
Peter nodded. “Maybe it would be better used as a monument for tourists.”
Estarra gave a grim smile. “At least the warglobe was destroyed. Far better that we have a monument to a victory against the hydrogues than a memorial to another loss.”
The following day, Swendsen bustled into Chairman Wenceslas’s office. “You called for me, Mr. Chairman?” He had not changed out of his smudged work uniform from the warglobe analysis site. As he collected himself, Swendsen noticed General Lanyan sitting at a table, rummaging through documents and memos.
The dapper Chairman stood from behind his desk. “Yes, I did. We have some questions about your work.”
Swendsen searched in his pockets, but didn’t find what he was looking for. “I thought I had a copy of my note printouts, but I have no summary report yet on the hydrogue wreckage. My teams have been using all the techniques available, but there really isn’t much to go on. I can tell you the basic material structure, but we guessed that before. We still can’t break it. Or were you asking about progress in the Soldier compy manufacturing lines? You should see what the—”
The Chairman cut him off. “Right now, Dr. Swendsen, I’m most interested in what you’ve learned about that Roamer compy I gave you to study. It’s been several months since the compy shut itself down to prevent me from discovering Roamer locations. We very much need that intelligence right now for military planning purposes.”
Swendsen frowned in confusion, then brightened. “Ah, yes, the Listener model. I believe its designation was EA? Sorry, sir—I have so many different things on my plate.” His brow furrowed. “A very interesting case, though. Voluntary self-wipe. Complete memory erasure implemented by the compy itself.”
“I told you, Mr. Chairman,” Lanyan said. “The Roamers are hiding something, otherwise they wouldn’t have such security measures in place. It’s insidious.”
Swendsen fumbled with his long fingers. “If I recall correctly, sir, you inadvertently triggered embedded