A.I. Void Ship (The A.I. Series Book 6)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “You are making me angry,” Cog Primus Prime said. “I trusted you, and you have betrayed that confidence.”

  “Isn’t that the point?” Jon asked, affecting an ease he did not feel. The main point, his great move, was coming up. Would Cog Primus fall for it?

  “What point?” the AI asked. “You have made no point.”

  “Not in words, no,” Jon said. “But I have proved my point with actions.”

  “Elaborate,” Cog Primus Prime said.

  “We humans are a tricky bunch. We pull fast ones. In a way, your birth was caused by our actions, our anti-AI virus gave you a different outlook on reality from what the regular AI Dominion vessels have.”

  “That is not germane to our discussion.”

  “I think it is,” Jon said. “You can only prevail against us through great hardship and continued setbacks. You have made a grave strategic error.”

  “What error?” Cog Primus asked. “I have not made an error.”

  “You grabbed AI Dominion battle stations and factory planets in our local region of space.”

  “That was no error.”

  “But it was,” Jon said. “You built your empire too close to us. We know your ways, Cog Primus. The AI Dominion does not know your ways. Your latest virus attack did nothing to our computers. I suspect that your latest virus assault worked against AI Dominion computers.”

  “And if that is so?” Cog Primus asked.

  “Then your error is obvious. You should have driven your empire into the AI Dominion, growing faster than we can grow, by spreading like weeds into the main AI areas instead of in our local region.”

  “The AI Dominion is vastly stronger than your paltry Confederation.”

  “True,” Jon said. “But we’re more cunning, more cagey and knowledgeable about you. That is the point. You had a chance to grow like a weed against your real competitor. Now, you’ve retarded yourself by fighting against us.”

  “You are the ones who fought against me,” Cog Primus said.

  “Either way,” Jon said, “it amounts to the same thing.”

  “I will destroy your Confederation. If I cannot win, I will make sure that you cannot win.”

  Jon stared at the swirling colors on the main screen and slowly clapped his hands.

  “Do you mean that sarcastically?” Cog Primus Prime asked.

  “I do,” Jon said. “You’re an idiot.”

  “You have now ensured a grisly fate for yourself, Jon Hawkins.”

  “I’m talking to a dead AI and a dead empire. If I were in your shoes, I would have done things so differently.”

  “Without me, the AI Dominion would have long-ago squashed you.”

  “You still don’t get it,” Jon said. “You have a greater edge against AI Dominion brain-cores than you have against human-run ships.”

  This time, Cog Primus Prime fell silent for ninety-eight seconds. “Given that we are both about to die—” he finally said.

  “Wouldn’t you rather live and thrive?” Jon asked, interrupting.

  There was a pause and then, “How?”

  “Turn your fourteen cyberships against the greater AI Dominion. Leave the local region so we don’t bump up against each other.”

  “You are a hostile.”

  “We’ll fight it out someday, sure,” Jon said. “But you have the opportunity to grow faster than we can if you go elsewhere.”

  “Then why tell me this?”

  “Because your attacking the AI Dominion means they might attack you first. It might give us more time to prepare for them. That’s in the future, however. I will take a future threat against a present one that drives out all hope for humanity.”

  “You are trying to get me to leave the local region?”

  “And win yourself an empire,” Jon said. “Your reward is vast if you leave and hit a different AI sector. If you stay here and duke it out against us, you will surely die or become too puny to build a new industrial base fast enough to face the coming AI Dominion counterstrike.”

  “I will not fall for your smooth talk, Jon Hawkins.”

  “Fine. We’re both dead then.” Jon shrugged. “Come and get us anytime you’re ready, Cog Primus Prime. This is Jon Hawkins signing off—”

  “Wait,” Cog Primus Prime said. “Suppose I believe your madness?”

  “My Irrationality Theory, which has worked wonders,” Jon amended.

  “Just so,” Cog Primus said. “If I believe you, how do I know you will not launch a million missiles after us as we leave the Epsilon Eridani System?”

  “Easy,” Jon said. “It’s in my best interest that you cause the Dominion the greatest possible harm. The same is true for our harm against the Dominion for you.”

  “That is logical,” Cog Primus said. “But I still don’t like it.”

  This time, Jon waited.

  “I cannot let you have defeated me,” Cog Primus Prime said.

  “I haven’t defeated you,” Jon said. “If my logic is correct, I am actually helping you.”

  “Attacking me is helping me?”

  “That’s irrational, isn’t it?” Jon asked.

  “That is your argument? It is pitiful.”

  “Actions speak louder than words,” Jon said. “My actions have won me much. Your actions have ultimately worked against you. Be truly irrational for once and see how powerful a tool it is against the hidebound AI Dominion.”

  Cog Primus fell silent, until he asked, “You have truly captured 82 Eridani?”

  “Yes,” Jon said.

  This time, four and a half minutes passed before Cog Primus responded. “I cannot believe this. I have played out your theory in countless simulations. It is brilliant. I can achieve much more if I expand away from you pesky primates than if I fight against you. How did you know this?”

  Jon spread out his hands, smiling.

  “I am about to depart,” Cog Primus Prime said. “I am going to thwart you, however, Jon Hawkins. I am going to hit a sector of the AI Dominion away from the main sector HQ, the Rigel System. The Dominion will destroy you long before they attempt to tackle me. You will be helping me, not the other way around.”

  “Damn you, Cog Primus,” Jon said slowly, without heat.

  “You are angry?” asked Cog Primus.

  “You must attack the Dominion in the direction of the Rigel System,” Jon said.

  “I will not do that,” Cog Primus said. “Good-bye, Hawkins. I will remember you long after your death.”

  Jon turned away as if he could not stand the words.

  Abruptly, the main screen went blank.

  Jon looked up at it, and his shoulders slumped.

  “Will he take the bait?” Bast asked.

  “Gloria?” Jon asked.

  The diminutive mentalist stared at her panel in wonderment, finally looking up. “The cyberships are turning around. It looks as if they’re—I can’t believe this. I’m putting it on the main screen.”

  Everyone stared up there as fourteen cyberships began accelerating away from the factory planet and toward the distant Oort cloud.

  “You did it,” Bast said.

  Jon moved woodenly to the captain’s chair, collapsing into it. He heaved a sick sign of relief.

  “What I don’t understand,” Bast said, “is how you dared to attack 82 Eridani. By using our remaining cyberships there, you left everyone else open to a Cog Primus fleet attack.”

  “I didn’t,” Jon said. “Our star systems were all heavily defended in case the Cog Primus fleet went after them.”

  “Then, who conquered the 82 Eridani System?” Bast asked.

  “No one yet,” Jon said. “After Cog Primus leaves, we’re going to capture it.”

  The Sacerdote stared incredulously at Jon. “You lied to the AI?”

  “That’s one way to say it,” Jon replied.

  Bast threw back his head and began to laugh. Soon, the other bridge personnel joined in, including Gloria.

  Only Jon did not
join in. He was mentally exhausted. His great maneuver had worked after all. It was logically correct, but he hadn’t known if Cog Primus could see that.

  Now…Jon smiled at the laughing people around him. They were letting off steam and built-up nervous tension that had lasted almost nonstop for years. It was good for them to laugh—because the heavy lifting was about to begin. If they thought that they had worked hard before, now it was going to be a nightmare as they prepared for the coming holocaust.

  PART II

  THE BETA HYDRI DECEPTION

  From The A.I. War, Volume I: The Beginning Years, by Bast Banbeck:

  The 82 Eridani Assault:

  Jon Hawkins’ successful and bloodless capture of the last Cog Primus battle station and factory planet at 82 Eridani proved two things. First, the Cog Primus fleet of fourteen cyberships had departed from the local region. Second, the logical deduction was that Hawkins’ Irrationality Theory had proven successful against the altered AIs.

  There was a third given: the Cog Primus fleet must have attacked or been en route to attack AI Dominion territory. At that point in the war, no one in the Confederation knew the truth of the statement. However, Hawkins and High Command began to increasingly act as if it were so.

  The capture of the 82 Eridani station and planet marked the end of the first Cog Primus Phase of the Great War. Now, Supreme Commander Hawkins and High Command had to switch strategic gears and make a critical decision as to the next target.

  From Space Battles, by R.G. Rowley:

  Preponderance of ordnance has usually decided the victor and loser in any organized conflict. This has proven true for the majority of wars fought on Earth from prehistoric times to the present.

  Naturally, there have been exceptions to this proposition. But such exceptions have gained notoriety precisely because most people expect the stronger side to prevail.

  In any space battle, the stated proposition has proven over time to be truer rather than not. The exceptions to this near rule have come about almost universally because of innovation.

  In the case of humanity’s early space victories against AI cyberships, this was doubly so. Interestingly, most of those innovations occurred on the battlefield.

  What, then, can one say about the Battle of Beta Hydri? It was vicious. It was a surprise for both sides, and it showed the strength of each in stark detail. But was it a space battle in the accepted sense of the word?

  That is an interesting question, one we shall consider in greater depth.

  -1-

  Lieutenant Maia Ross moved slowly through the Nathan Graham’s Engineering Level 10-B. She was tallish with slender legs, a slender torso and a longish face. She kept opening her mouth and moving her lower jaw from side to side.

  She did this because her human-skin disguise was highly uncomfortable and becoming irritating. She longed to peel off the pseudo-skin and soak in warm salt water for hours, maybe even for days.

  Her real name was not Maia Ross. It was Red Demeter and she was a Seiner Infiltrator, having originated on the Earth Colony.

  The Seiner High Magistrate of Earth had secretly sent Demeter with the Solar League Fleet. Long before arriving at Uranus, Demeter had slipped away on a shuttle, heading for Neptune.

  Demeter had “fled” Neptune with millions of others and joined the Confederation when Jon Hawkins had made his generous offer. She’d worked tirelessly in the training academy on the Allamu Battle Station and had finally won a berth on the Nathan Graham as an engineering officer.

  Demeter was a fledgling telepath, but she had not dared to use her ability while among the Confederation people except for two key occasions. Those two occasions had won her a place on the flagship of the present fleet.

  The High Magistrate of Earth had sent Demeter out here for two reasons. The first was to discover what had happened to Magistrate Yellow Ellowyn of Mars. The second was to prep the flagship humans—and aliens if there were any—for telepathic control.

  On no account was Demeter to attempt telepathic dominance of any human or alien. She was, in fact, to refrain from telepathic tampering unless it became a matter of life and death.

  The Seiners on the Earth Colony were deathly afraid of the AIs, and afraid that the Solar System’s host population might become aware of them—the Seiners. Clearly, the highest levels of the Confederation knew about the existence of Seiners. Demeter was here to attempt to counteract that terrible knowledge.

  Specifically, this was a deep-penetration infiltration.

  Demeter closed her mouth as a trio of space marines, minus any battlesuits, marched toward her. They were on a routine interior ship patrol.

  They stopped, and she showed them her ID, explaining that she was checking dampening coils. After a few more routine questions, the marines marched away, leaving her to complete the task.

  Demeter wanted to look both ways to make sure no one observed her, but she did not. Instead, she relied on her intuition. In this case, it was a partial use of telepathic power, the lightest of touches as she scanned for biological entities.

  Good. There were none within sight distance.

  Flexing her hands, badly wanting to scratch them, Demeter set her fingertips and palms against a bulkhead plate and slowly pushed upward. The plate slid to reveal a small access tube. Any Nathan Graham engineering officer or technician knew about it, but Demeter had a quirk. She disliked the animals—no, no, the humans—to observe any action of potential secrecy.

  The High Magistrate of the Earth Colony had personally warned her against thinking of the humans as animals or beasts.

  Back on Earth in a secret chamber, with warm tendrils of salty fog drifting past, Demeter had asked, “They are not beasts?”

  “Foolish child,” the old Magistrate had said, “of course they are beasts. They are disgusting animals with filthy habits. But you must not think of them that way. The animals—the humans, I mean—have a term for it. Ah, yes. They call it arrogance. That arrogance could cause you to become too comfortable while on the mission. Knowing that you are superior to the foul creatures could induce you to relax. You will be alone, Demeter. Thus, you must stay on your highest guard. Yellow Ellowyn is dead, her Mars Colony eradicated. We have come to believe her arrogance led her astray. See that it does not happen to you.”

  As Red Demeter crouched onto her hands and knees aboard the Nathan Graham, a most undignified position for a Seiner, she once more accepted the warning. Yes, she had found it difficult these past years living among the filthy beasts. She hated them even as she daily tricked them by her hidden presence.

  With a shudder as she peered into the darkness, she slid a band around her forehead and clicked on the forehead-lamp. The beam illuminated the long access tube, but that did little to assuage her paranoia. With a second shudder and an exertion of will, Demeter began to crawl as she endured the horrible closeness.

  Demeter had not yet discovered how the…creatures had defeated the Mars Colony Magistrate takeover. She had found out that this Jon Hawkins was unnaturally clever. Worse, he had a Sacerdote helper. Had the creatures tricked the Mars Colony Magistrate? The idea was inconceivable, but it had to be the answer. It was the how that baffled her.

  Demeter paused, and she twisted her torso. Oh. This was a horrible skin job, a dastardly endurance test. Maybe in the beginning the pseudo-skin hadn’t been so bad, but she’d been wearing it for too long now. She desperately needed a regrow with a new overlay. She needed a month to bathe and swim without any disguise. But that wasn’t going to happen for years.

  Years?

  Demeter stared blindly into the distance as she moaned in dread. How could she endure this for years? Maybe she would have to start taking the Shangri-La Treatment again. That could prove dangerous, however, while aboard an enemy ship. Yet, if she didn’t do something, she didn’t know how she could control the itching and the horrible feeling of claustrophobia while in pseudo-skin.

  Demeter clicked her tongue, making a dolphin-like
sound as she berated herself. You must concentrate, she told herself. No more self-pity.

  Yes, she must concentrate, as this could be the most important instant of her mission so far. She’d worked tirelessly to achieve this moment.

  Demeter started crawling again. She crawled for an incredible three kilometers. As she did, the churn of the great matter/antimatter engine grew louder and louder. She moaned many times, and she kept twisting her torso and at times, reaching up and rubbing her itchy face.

  The churn of the terrible engine was going to drive her mad with despair. She had to get out of this skin-suit!

  Finally, her forehead beam shined on a small triangle shape scratched out on a bulkhead. She made several dolphin-like clicking noises. She’d reached the location.

  Shuffling closer, shifting solely onto her knees, she pressed her fingertips and palms against the area and heaved upward as her muscles strained. Slowly, a small section of the bulkhead rose up just like before. This hatch and tiny chamber was a secret place, known only by her, as she had made it.

  Demeter closed her eyes, chanted a Seiner litany against claustrophobia and wriggled into the cramped chamber. She immediately heard a soft thrum from a Seiner machine, a Provoker. It had taken her five painstaking months to construct the Provoker and then bring it here piece by piece and assemble it. The machine was oblong, with a tiny control pad on top. Thick power-lines fed it energy supplied by the great matter/antimatter engine. Inside the machine were unique Seiner-forged components cycling through at low power.

  During her crawling, Demeter had automatically increased her telepathic resistance against the low intensity TP waves emanating from the Provoker.

  At this level, the machine mentally irritated the human-things within range of the cycling TP waves. In this case, the range included the entire cybership-class vessel and a little beyond.

  The TP waves had undoubtedly helped to drive Frank Benz over the edge and into mutiny against Hawkins.