Braintrust- Requiem

by Marc Stiegler

  14

  Chess Pieces

  Chess is the struggle against error.

  —Johannes Zukertort

  Chen Ying, student on the Taixue, co-founder of Oceanic Mining, and now a Politburo member, was standing quietly in line to board the ferry to the Fuxing’s spaceport ship when he saw Fan Hui marching toward him, rage radiating from every line of her body.

  He looked mournfully at the ferry, wondering whether, if he jumped the line and leapt across to the vessel, he could escape her.

  He sighed. Not a chance.

  “Chen! What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Fan grabbed him by the arm and dragged him far off to the side—far enough to be able to yell without being overheard.

  On the one hand, Chen was by nature a geek, an engineer specializing in robotic software. Making demands of people was not in his nature. On the other hand, after he’d been promoted to the Politburo when his mother died of the Sky Rubola, Lenora had insisted that he include training in leadership and management in his educational curriculum. One of her favorite scenarios for toughening him was a face-off against a simulation of Fan (on the wallscreen, the simulation was both eerie and scary) in which he had to demand that she let him have his way.

  This training stood him in good stead now. He glared back at her and said in a steady voice, “I’m taking the Global Express to the BrainTrust main fleet, where I’ll help with the cyberwar operations.”

  “Are you crazy?” Even though Fan had moved them far from the crowd, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s treason!”

  “Treason against whom? Guang?” He shrugged. “So shoot me.” Chen gulped when he realized that as one of the top two government officials in China, shooting him was what she was required to do now.

  Chen watched as Fan strove to push past her emotions and try a logical argument. “Why can’t you help with the cyberwar from here? I mean, it’s all electronics, right?”

  Chen shook his head. For one thing, he knew that if he agreed, Fan would impose network isolation on the whole archipelago to keep him sidelined. For another… “I asked Amanda Copeland about that. She refused to allow it; said if anyone traced the signals, the Alliance would surely target the other archipelagos. So all the cyberattackers are required to be on the main fleet.”

  Fan’s emotions won control once more. She shook him. “Get a grip! I understand wanting to help, but it can’t be us. Can’t you see that?”

  Chen certainly understood the point. He was wavering between resisting and surrendering when Lenora hustled up.

  “Chen. Fan.” Lenora looked at Fan. “Glad to see you got here in time.” She stared at Chen for a moment but continued to speak to Fan. “Let me talk to him.” She pointed the way back into the ship and spoke to Chen soothingly. “You’re facing some monumentally difficult decisions here. I think I can help you unravel them.”

  As Fan turned on her heel and stomped off to her next confrontation, Lenora led Chen away. She picked up where she’d left off. “I’m sure she talked with you in terms of treason, but we have a considerably more delicate dance to perform here.” Once they were inside the ship, Lenora commandeered a conference room and closed the door. “I need your help.”

  Chen leaned forward eagerly. “For the BrainTrust?”

  Lenora nodded. She brought up an overhead image of the Fuxing fleet on the wallscreen, then zoomed down on an isle-ship-sized hole in the configuration that was completely surrounded by isle ships.

  Chen drummed his fingers on the table. “And?”

  “Wait for it.”

  As the view zoomed closer, Chen could discern in the hole the outline of a shape very much like an isle ship. But this shape was the same deep blue as the sea, discernible only by the edge where it touched the water.

  Chen chuckled. “A stealth isle ship.” He shook his head. “It won’t work. Radar can still see it, and the wake from an isle ship is huge. Any photo-optic surveillance satellite would recognize its signature in a heartbeat.”

  Lenora raised an eyebrow and spoke with smug calm. “Will they? Remember, Chen, there are over fifty thousand large ships on the sea, all scattered to hell and gone. This will look a lot like them, and any sensor with high enough resolution to make out this ship has too narrow a field of view to find the ship on its own. First they have to spot it with a low-resolution scanner, then decide it’s important enough to task a high-resolution sensor to take a closer look.” She cleared her throat. “And, uh, the Aegis has a few other stealthy features as well.” She cleared her throat again.

  Chen shrugged. “Assuming you’re right, you’ve still got a problem. How are you going to get past the Renhai?”

  Lenora clapped her hands. “Just the question I wanted to talk to you about.”

  After Lenora explained what she wanted, Chen gave her a determined smile. “As you wish.” He shot her an innocent look. “Does Fan know about this?”

  Lenora laughed. “I didn’t want to burden her with too much knowledge, but she’s no dummy.”

  Chen continued the thought. “So she knows you’re up to something.” He brightened. “So she also knows I’m up to something. So she approves. Sort of.” He rose. “Let’s do this.”

  Levinsky’s radar operator continued to read out the situation. They’d hooked up Diab so he could hear too. “Captain, the Russians have changed course. They’re heading straight for us.” He paused and corrected himself. “Actually, they’re heading straight for the New Medina fleet.”

  Diab sighed. “What I had been building up to was a request that you let us go to Haifa in the hopes that being in your port would deter the Alliance from attacking.” His voice cracked. “I guess we’re too late. Please pick up as many survivors as you can.”

  Levinsky thought fast and furiously. “Nonsense. Somehow we’re going to fix this.”

  His ship was still on course, full speed, to Diab’s location. It would be insane to keep on going. If he were in the line of fire when the Russians arrived, his ship would disintegrate under the first missile hit.

  But Israelis had stood against enormously larger forces before. Levinsky called the other two patrol ships in the area and persuaded them, despite his lack of a plan, to come at full speed to help him defend Diab. Persuading them had been surprisingly easy. Oddly, protecting the Palestinians who’d saved them from the Sky Rubola appealed to them.

  He still didn’t have any idea what he could do to stop the Russians. He needed the whole Israeli defense force, but defending a bunch of Palestinians from the Russians was going to be a very hard sell, even though the Prime Minister would surely want to help the people who’d sent the Aceso II. Levinsky needed a damn good justification.

  The Second Chance and the ships trailing her came into view. Levinsky’s XO used a pair of binoculars to examine them more closely. “Vastly better ships than the First Chance. I still can’t believe how much progress they’ve made since we first investigated them for fishing violations.”

  Levinsky whirled to his second in command and did not quite hug him. “Brilliant!” He turned to look at the Palestinian fleet. “Diab, we’ve got this.” He then turned to his radio operator. “Get me the Prime Minister.”

  Finally, he turned back to watch the Second Chance. “And Diab, this is very important. You must obey my next instructions to the letter. To the letter, do you understand?”

  Diab, sounding mystified but more upbeat as Levinsky explained the plan, answered, “As you wish, Captain.”

  Admiral Yahontov watched the display generated by the sensors that had zoomed in on the New Medina fleet. He watched in astonishment as a dinky Israeli patrol boat pelted through the water to block his path.

  The radio operator alerted him. “Sir, the captain of the Israeli patrol boat is requesting you.”

  “Put him on.”

  A new voice came through. “Admiral, this is Captain Levinsky of the Israeli Defense Force. You are approaching a fleet of Palestinian ships that have been t
aken into custody for violating the three-mile limit on fishing rights.”

  Admiral Yahontov stared at the patrol boat in astonishment. “Are you serious? Get out of the way! We are going to destroy those ships as enemies of the Alliance, and unless you stand down, we'll destroy you with them.”

  The admiral's adjutant muttered, "Don't they understand we can destroy them in an eyeblink?"

  Yahontov pointed to the left, where two more patrol boats came charging up to join the first one. "Make that three eyeblinks. "

  The adjutant sputtered, "Are they insane?"

  "They are Israelis. Is that not the same thing?"

  The visual sensor operator interrupted, "Sir, it might be useful to know that they really are violating the fishing limits. " He zoomed the main display on the lead ship. The gunwales were lined with people dangling fishing lines into the ocean. As the operator panned the view, they could see that all the ships had decks packed with fishermen.

  The admiral rolled his eyes. “Surely they jest.”

  The radio operator requested his attention. “Sir, there’s someone claiming to be the Israeli Prime Minister trying to contact you.”

  Yahontov covered his face with his hand. “Put him through.”

  “Admiral, I understand that you are attempting to take our prisoners from us. Unless you have the proper paperwork to demand a transfer, these Palestinians belong to us. They have committed a serious crime, and rest assured, they will be properly punished.”

  Yahontov growled. “If you really are the Prime Minister, order your patrol boats out of the way. We are in a hurry and do not have time to dawdle.”

  “You doubt I’m the Prime Minister? Let me see if I can help you with that.”

  The radar operator had a few words to interject. “Admiral, I have contact with an F35 at Mach 1.2 coming from the Tel Nof airbase.”

  The admiral shook his head. “One fighter? Heading for us?”

  The radar operator shook his head. “Heading for the New Medina fleet. If it were driving directly toward us, we wouldn’t be able to see it yet.” The radar operator looked up from his console and spoke with irritation. “The stealth would have defeated my systems.”

  The Prime Minister spoke as if he could overhear this conversation. “See the plane heading for the Palestinians? How many squadrons do you think I have headed for you?”

  Yahontov felt the beginnings of a chill down his spine. If the Israelis were serious about interfering, he had a real problem engaging. The patrol boats were a joke, but the Air Force?

  His ships had SAMs, of course, but the F35s could get into range and launch missiles before he could even see them.

  Could he call for air support from Russia’s Khmeimim Air Base in Syria in time? Even if he could, the Prime Minister’s ominous talk of multiple squadrons meant the air base’s entire complement of fighters would be outnumbered. In some sense, it was fortunate that he hadn’t anticipated this.

  This was the issue with having no aircraft carriers anymore. The Russian navy looked great unless they had to engage someone with air superiority. He’d bring this up yet again when he got back home.

  For now, however, he had higher priority matters to address. “Captain, veer off. Take our fleet to Gibraltar. Full speed, Captain. I want to arrive south of western Africa in time to hit the Prometheus fleet before the Chinese have sunk them all on their own.”

  Chen Ying followed the XO of the Renhai into the Combat Information Center. He strutted in with haughty grandeur, a strut Lenora had forced him to practice for several hours before sending him over. His hair, always unruly, refused even Lenora’s orders to obey, but aside from that, Chen Ying thought he quite looked the part of a Politburo member.

  The XO waved his hand around the room. “And this is where we manage the battles we face.”

  Chen clasped his hands behind his back. “I see.” He nodded. “And how many battles have you participated in?”

  The XO frowned. “The Renhai is more powerful than any enemy combatant in the South China Seas, excluding the Americans. When we show up, enemies either disperse or surrender.”

  Chen rubbed his chin. “Of course. Hardly a proper challenge for you, then.” He pulled out his cell phone and started tapping. “Forgive me while I engage in a little indulgence.”

  The radar operator spoke alertly. “Captain, we have a bogey to the north.” His voice rose slightly. “Several bogeys!”

  The XO responded sharply, “Ship types?”

  The operator answered uncertainly. “Can’t tell, sir. The returns are murky. Some kind of jammer, I’d guess.” He continued with even more puzzlement. “They just appeared out of nowhere, as if they were submarines surfacing.”

  The XO’s expression shifted to rage for a brief moment as Chen interrupted, “How many targets?”

  The operator answered, “Three, in a line.” He paused. “Make that four. The fourth one is behind the others, traveling west to east.”

  The XO ordered a course change to close in and launched the helicopter. “I need visual identification. Meanwhile, battle stations.”

  Alarms wailed, men ran, and Chen watched with good humor. “Very exciting. Do you think it’s some kind of BrainTrust attack?”

  The XO pursed his lips. “Unknown at this time, Member Chen.”

  Soon the helicopter reported. “I’m coming up on the front three bogeys. I’m not seeing any ships.” He paused. “Though my radar confirms there’s something there.”

  Chen chuckled. The XO was looking at him suspiciously when the men on the copter continued their report. “I think it’s a bunch of robots, sir. Floating on the water.” He paused, then continued in disgust, “They’re spelling out a message. ‘Greetings from the Politburo.’”

  The XO gave the Politburo member a glare of pure fury. He calmed down before speaking. “I presume this is your idea of a prank?”

  Chen shrugged. “This is my idea of a surprise exercise. Wasn’t it ever so much more entertaining than your usual drills? As you might know, in my day to day efforts, I work extensively with undersea bots.” An idea came to him, and he brightened. “If you’d like, I can set up all sorts of practice targets for you to play hide and seek with.”

  When the XO did not respond, Chen shrugged again. “Just a thought. If you’d like me to help sometime, just give me a buzz.” He tapped on his phone.

  The helicopter reported, “The bots are all submerging.”

  The radar operator followed up. “The first three bogeys have disappeared.” He frowned for a moment. “The fourth target is fading in the east.”

  Chen rubbed his chin again. “Excellent. Just as I’d planned.” He slapped the XO on the shoulder with no sign of the hesitancy Lenora had worked so hard to help him overcome. “Well done, both you and my bots.” And, he did not add, well done by the Aegis with its clean angular superstructure covered in radar-absorbing graphene tiles. The stealth seemed to have worked after all; the ship looked no larger than a bunch of surfaced bots to the Renhai.

  Fleet Captain Graysen Ainsworth, commander of the Fuxing fleet, watched the Renhai’s radar with passive sensors as the Aegis continued to sail away under full power. While isle ships had clumsy hulls so they retained stability in even the wildest waves, several years ago, the BrainTrust had circumvented the resulting slug-level speed limitations by devising a way of creating an ice hull out of water that enclosed the real hull. The ice gave the ship a radically streamlined configuration, allowing the Aegis in particular to make almost thirty knots. Which was good because they were leaving the Fuxing way late for the party.

  With a grunt of satisfaction, the captain turned from the controls to the only other person on board. “All right, back in action.”

  Security Chief Hart’s voice was filled with glee. “Geronimo, here we come.” He continued in an upbeat tone that belied the words, “Or is it the Alamo we’re going to join?”

  Graysen slapped him on the back. “As long we’re heading into a ho
peless battle, who cares?” His voice turned commanding. “Now man the oil pumps!”

  Hart saluted with considerable exaggeration. “Aye aye, Captain!” He moved to the controls.

  The captain went back to the pilot’s station and studied the aft display. There were no windows on the Aegis command deck, or anywhere else for that matter. He studied the screen. “Our wake is still too long for a regular cargo ship. Increase the oil slick by ten percent.”

  Hart raised the rate at which the pumps dispensed silicone oil, a defoaming agent, into the bow wave that turned into the churning phosphorescent white wake behind them. Once they had it adjusted correctly, the wake from the isle ship would look to a satellite like one of the other fifty thousand ships on the sea.

  Graysen watched for a second. “We’ll let that settle down for a while before adjusting it again. For the moment, let’s go grab something to eat.”

  “Aye aye, Captain!”

  Dmitri sat at his desk, flicking his gaze between the painting Tricia had taken from the vault for him and his computer screen.

  He was finished working, having done all he could to help the BrainTrust with the upcoming battle.

  An irrelevant question disturbed him, one that had bothered him from time to time for a while now. The question was easy, but he suspected he knew the answer, and if so, he did not want to have his suspicions confirmed.

  He sighed. Time to find out. He forced the bookshelf to slide out of the way, revealing his vault. Moments later, he had the vault open and was rifling the contents.

  Yep, just as he’d feared. The lead-lined vial of polonium was missing.

  Tricia, what were you up to?

  Then he felt a cool pinprick in his neck. He leapt away, slapped his hand on the needle’s entry point, and turned to stare at his assailant. “Tricia! What have you done?”