Read Omega Point Trilogy for Free Online

side lock. It cycled behind them as they went forward into the control area.
    “It’s preset for its base,” he said as he took the station chair.
    “Is that safe?” she asked.
    “It’ll switch to jumpspace in the atmosphere, and it’s faster than Federation craft.” He touched the plate and fed in the numbers given to him by the General. Images of the streets above them persisted in his mind — metal flowing down from melting upper levels; people dying from sudden heat, exploding as steam formed from the water of their bodies; level after level collapsing as crowds fled downward. In less than a day the heat would sink the city, and dozens of others, into the planet.
    The Earthgiant had come well prepared, with a large fleet escorting hundreds of brute-power units. The approach of this armada had drawn all Herculean forces back to defend the Cluster. It was clear now that those forces would not be enough to save New Anatolia or any of the Cluster worlds.
    The Whisper Ship rushed out of the drain tunnel — into a sky of red dust. Columns of energy pushed down from the sky, one for each city and town of the hemisphere. The atmosphere was blue around the frozen bolts as they pumped power into the screaming planet.…
    “Stop it!”
    A hand struck him across the face. He opened his eyes to see his ten-year-old son bending over him.
    “Stop it!”
    “The dream?”
    “It hurts — it’s so terrible.”
    His son was receiving his nightmares. The effect was not as violent as it was for Oriona, but it was bad enough.
    “I’ll wake up and it will be better,” he said, “we’ll take a walk down the hill …”
    Then he opened his eyes again and found himself floating in the aft quarters of the ship. Time had rushed by; the boy of ten was a man; Oriona was dead; and when the ship came out of jumpspace, his son would be in command.
    Thirty light-years south of Myraa’s World, the Whisper Ship stabbed into the atmosphere of Precept, a frontier world near the end of the Federation’s other corridor, a volume of space that was slowly being settled in the direction of the galactic rim.
    The younger Gorgias knew that the thickening atmosphere outside the hull was beginning to howl from the vessel’s intrusion, and there would be thunderclaps and vortices when the ship leveled off near the surface.
    The screen showed swirling clouds and fleeting glimpses of brown and green surface. His father came into the cabin and stood silently behind him. Abruptly the clouds cleared and the ship was running level with the country below.
    “How is it going?” his father asked.
    “Very well — the ship pretty much guesses what I want it to do. The program plate is enough.”
    “You can override it with your voice, or add instructions.”
    “I’m well aware of that.”
    The first settlement became visible far ahead, a scattering of domes and primitive wooden dwellings on an open plain. There were few signs of vegetation inside the town. As the ship approached, groups of people looked up, toy figures on a dirt tabletop. A few were waving.
    Automatically, the forward beam cannon lashed out with its tongue, flitting from one structure to the next; one by one, buildings began to blaze. In a few moments the ship was circling for a repeat run.
    The cannon widened its beam and caught all remaining structures. The tabletop town was slowly being cloaked in black smoke. The ship shot past and circled again.
    “What do you think?” Gorgias asked without turning around.
    His father did not reply.
    “You think this is too easy, and you’re right. But the object is to hurt them, give them something to talk about, not fight a textbook battle.”
    As the ship continued to circle, Gorgias turned around in his station and glared at his father. “How many dead do you think?”
    “This is not warfare.”
    “You wouldn’t have said that once. Why do you care so much about being fair now?”
    “But you can’t win unless you can escalate