Desperate Measures: The Issog

by C. R. Daems

  "I'm afraid so—"

  "I understand. It won't be much different than being on a cruiser in wartime. I had a great vacation and I'm ready to do whatever is necessary."

  "Good. I don't think you'll be sorry. Welcome to the AHI team."

  * * *

  "These are really nice quarters," I said after touring my assigned unit. It was at least as large as my military quarters, and better furnished. The suite had a master bathroom as big as a bedroom, the bedroom had a walk-in closet, a queen-size bed, large dresser, night table, padded chair, and plenty of room to move around. The living room was complete with a leather couch, lounge chair, two padded chairs, several small tables, and a fifty-inch communications monitor. There was also a small kitchen.

  "The kitchen is in case you don't like the cafeteria food, which you can have delivered. And we have Aeton, our concierge, if you need something that hasn't been provided, or groceries if you prefer to cook yourself. Between you and me, participants can have just about anything they want."

  "That's good to know, Peter. You're off to a good start as my mentor." In reality, I was used to the austere life aboard a military cruiser and needed little more than a bed and work.

  "Of course, there is no free ride. Participants...pay a price for their privileges." His gaze turned downward and he lapsed into silence.

  "Tell me about phase one, from your perspective. I'm told twenty percent had their brains scrambled." While I waited, I poured a cup of coffee from the coffee maker in the kitchen, which I had turned on during our walk around. "Would you like something to drink? I noticed the refrigerator has a nice variety of juices, milk, ice tea, and fizzy drinks."

  "A glass of ice tea, please. They weren't sure what you drank besides coffee, so they tried all of the obvious drinks. I hope you don't prefer an alcoholic drink."

  "No. A glass of wine occasionally just to be social."

  "Well, phase one to date has had two participants who encountered mental problems after the procedure. There have been eight participants so far, that's twenty-five percent. Those two individuals were very nervous about the effect of the implant. There is no scientific evidence to support this, but I believe it was their fear that caused the problem. Afterward, they had trouble talking, working problems, and wild emotional swings from depression to uncontrollable anger. We were all nervous, but they feared the procedure. I think, again my opinion, if you're focused on the work, you have nothing to worry about. The operation is around twelve hours, but recovery is easy, because they put you in a coma for fourteen days. So by the time you're conscious again, you're pretty well healed. The problem is learning to interface and live with the implant."

  "What do you mean, learning to live with it?" That sounded ominous.

  "What is one hundred nineteen squared?" he asked unexpectedly. After the initial shock, I mentally went to work. After a long pause, he interrupted my mental calculations. "Give me a number to square."

  "Nine hundred sixteen—"

  "Eight hundred thirty-nine thousand fifty-six." He smiled, probably at me using my ICD to check the result. "Your implant will automatically compute, lookup, and verify the things you're thinking about. That can be a distraction. I knew the answer as soon as I wanted it."

  "I'm impressed."

  "You can download any information into the implant's database. Then, whenever you want it, the implant will retrieve it faster than you can type the request. The temptation is to load it with everything. Don't. It's extremely distracting. Unlike a computer, which you have to ask to do something, the implant tends to retrieve anything you're thinking about. It acts a lot like your brain, and you have to learn to live with it."

  * * *

  A New Beginning: Phase II

  My nose itched, but when I went to scratch it, I couldn't. My arms were restrained—strapped to the bed at my wrists. When I tried to rise, I found my chest and ankles were also strapped. On the verge of panic, I tried to calm myself to remember my last thoughts before I blanked out: an image of men and women and equipment being tossed around as the Bridge of the Cruiser Acheron was breached, bodies torn to shreds as we fought the horde of boarding Issog, floating in space as explosion after explosion turned the cruiser into a flaming inferno... I shook my head—an old nightmare. Something new. I fought to remember...an operation...the AHI project. I lay back relieved, then panic returned with a vengeance—something must have gone wrong! I was in a prison ward—insane and dangerous. I was now part of the twenty-five percent with my brains scrambled. Tears filled my eyes—I would never fly or command a ship again. I think I slept, because when I woke a middle-aged woman stood looking down at me.

  "I'm sorry about that, Zoe. When the computer detected your panic, it sedated you. I should have been here when you began to recover from your induced coma. But there was an accident that required my attention. If you promise to remain still, I will release your restraints. They were necessary to ensure you didn't hurt yourself while you recovered from surgery. Didn't want you falling out of bed." She smiled and began removing the restraints. "Although you were technically in a coma, sometimes the implant causes the patient to make violent movements."

  "Thank you...Doctor Hopher. The restraints caused the panic attack. I thought... I'm not sure what I thought, but it caused a series of unpleasant memories." I raised my hand and scratched my nose, relieved to be free and able to get at the itch. "Much better."

  "Jason is going to be your physical therapist for the next week or so," she said as a small athletic middle-aged man entered the room. "The coma accelerated the healing but unfortunately caused your muscles to atrophy to a significant degree."

  "All right, Zoe. Let’s get you up and see how much lying around for two weeks has cost you." He helped me out of bed and supported me while I tried to get my legs to cooperate with my desire to walk. Good thing Jason was hanging on or I would have fallen. My legs felt like rubber. Jason began slowly. By the end of two weeks he had me running five miles a day and lifting weights. I felt in the best shape I had been in for years.

  "I pronounce you fit to return to duty, but I would suggest you visit my facility several times a week. A healthy body stimulates the brain. I'm biased, but I think those who continued to work out did better than those who didn't."

  "Thanks, Jason. I hated the workout the first few days, but it was worth it. I do feel better, physically as well as mentally. Before or after work?"

  "Before, for several reasons. One, it will stimulate your brain. But also, you won't feel like it after a hard day at work, and before work is your only guaranteed free time."

  "Before work then," I said and meant it. The AHI project was important to me, and I would do everything necessary to succeed. There were Issog out there that missed me, I quipped mentally, vowing I would do everything in my power to ensure they got to see me again.

  * * *

  "Well Zoe, how is the implant doing?" Peter asked as we made our way to the dining facility. I had gotten up an hour early, worked out for forty-five minutes, showered, and felt ready for whatever the day had in store for me.

  "Pretty quiet so far. Is that normal?"

  "Yes, for those who still have their brains in order. It will get more active now that you have started training. During the next couple of months, they will download various informational packets into your implant. As they do, the implant will get more active. Sort of like a six-month-old baby versus a three-year-old. The three-year-old has the vocabulary to ask questions, give you his view, and argue."

  "It doesn't question or argue, does it?"

  "No. It's more that you get its view without consciously asking, and it doesn't care what you thought the answer was, so maybe that is arguing." He gave me a crooked grin. "You might want to name the implant."

  "Why?" I couldn't think of a reason. I wasn't planning on having a conversation with it.

  "There are two views on that. If you don't name the implant, the thoughts tend to feel like part of your bra
in, in which case the thoughts you get are yours. That could make you feel unstable—schizophrenic. If you name it, then it's separate. In that case, those random thoughts are your annoyingly clever implant's." Peter shrugged. "I named my implant Greta, after a girl I dated who had an opinion about everything. That worked well for me."

  I laughed. "Clever strategy. My problem is picking one of the thirty or so officers I've known who are a match for your Greta."

  After breakfast, Peter took me to a room filled with computers and monitors.

  "Zoe, meet Kwon," Peter said, introducing a thin small woman of Asian ancestry. She gave me a small bow.

  "Good morning, Kwon. I'm pleased to meet you."

  "Good morning, Zoe. I will be your lead trainer for the next couple of months. We start slow. Your implant already has a good database of mathematics, which is the reason it has probably been very quiet—you haven't needed that information, and the connections between your mind and the implant are still limited. For the next week or two, you'll work increasingly complex mathematical problems, which will cause your implant to become active and to extend its connections."

  "Complex mathematics?" I asked, wondering what she meant by complex.

  "Were you ever the Navigational Officer?"

  "For two years, but it wasn't my most outstanding posting."

  "Then you won't have any problem. Your training and your implant's databases will primarily be those associated with operating a cruiser. We're not training you to be a mathematician." She smiled, taking the bite out of the remark.

  "You're the boss, Kwon. You tell me what you want, and I'll do my best to deliver." I wanted to let her know I respected her position—she was the instructor and I the student. The next two weeks went quickly as I immersed myself in the exercises. Kwon never offered to help with any of the problems but was not above a hint or suggestion when I hit a mental block. I was following a well-travelled path, and each time I stepped off it she gently nudged me back on it. Each day, my implant appeared to get smarter and quicker. At first it was distracting, but as time passed, I found it a help and began to rely on it as one would on any application designed to perform a specific function. After two weeks, I named it Plato.

  The weeks and months that followed were like a refresher course for each position on the Bridge of a cruiser. I loved it, and felt I learned some things I hadn't fully understood or appreciated even though I had spent time at each position. But like any complex software, one tends to use only those parts that apply to the specific job at hand, and that may be less than fifty percent of its capability. About twelve weeks into phase II training the material felt like what one would receive at the War College, and I wondered how Mikel had managed to get access to it.

  On the morning of my one hundred and fortieth day of AHI training, Mikel met me as I exited the exercise room.

  "Good morning, Zoe. Are you enjoying the training?"

  "Very much, Steven. I don't know what I expected, but I'm impressed and excited. Plato isn't as invasive as I had heard, and we seem to be getting along reasonably well."

  "It does appear to vary by individual. Peter is at peace with Greta. This is a learning curve for us as well. Each individual reacts differently to the initial implant, to the training, and subsequently to the implant's presence. While participants struggle to become successful, we are trying to determine the factors that will predict a successful participant. So far, only Peter has been successful, although at what I'd consider marginal success."

  "I will tell you, it helps to have a mentor like Peter. He has been very helpful, like when he explained why you would want to give your implant a name."

  "Yes, Peter has helped to advance this project in many ways. I agree with you that a mentor is important. But the reason I stopped by to see you is to let you know that you have successfully completed phase II of the program and are being advanced to phase III." He stood watching me closely. I felt a rush of adrenalin. Not at the fact that I had done well in my classes, but that I would finally get to see a simulation of a fifth century cruiser.

  * * *

  A New Beginning: Phase III

  "Peter, why don't you give me an introductory tour of the Bridge," I said after walking around the room. It didn't look like any Bridge I had ever seen or could have imagined. There was a chair for the captain and a semicircle of waist-high cabinets and nothing else. The cabinets might have been individual stations, but I couldn't tell because they didn't have any controls that I could see. It felt lonely and sterile.

  "I've never been on a real cruiser, no point since the new Odin cruisers won't be anything like the current ones." He walked to the first panel, which I now noticed had a small bronze plate with Navigation engraved on it. "This is the Navigational panel. This one," he pointed to the next one, "is Weapons, then Electronic Counter Measures, Communications, Sensors, and finally the Helm. The absence of visual controls, I would imagine, makes it look strange. But they are unnecessary since you operate all the controls with mental commands to the Controller, which is integrated into the System Computer."

  "How do I know what is happening?" My initial impression of a fifth century Bridge wasn't favorable.

  "The monitor on the wall directly in front of you visually records your directives and verifies each individual station's acknowledgement. And you have the standard External Space Projection, ESP, hologram in the middle of the Bridge.

  "All right, can you give me a demonstration?"

  "Glad to. First you must tell Plato to initiate broadcast mode, or alternatively, you can put on your Battle Helmet. That will make a magnetic connection with Plato. Then, for example, give the Navigation unit a request to compute a vector to somewhere, or just compute it yourself, and send it to the Helm unit to execute."

  There was nothing to hear so I watched the monitor. The monitor showed the vector: one-two-zero by zero-three-six at 550 gravities. I liked this even less, but I knew it was the typical reaction when a person had to give up the old way of doing something and learn a new one. So I sighed mentally and resigned myself to accepting a new and better way of killing the Issog. That thought motivated me.

  "How about talking me through a couple of simple simulations. It will obviously be slower, but I want to know what instructions you're giving to the stations. The results of the simulation aren't important."

  "All right. Let's start with the first simulation they had me work on when I entered Phase III. Elaine, would you start simulation S01, Single Cruiser Encounter?"

  "Sure thing, Peter. S01 coming right up," a light soprano voice replied cheerfully.

  "Elaine, can you slow it down?"

  "Sure, Zoe, but it won't be much fun in slow motion," she said, sounding amused.

  "Right now, I suspect slow motion will be triple motion for me. I have to learn a new way of thinking."

  "Slow motion coming up," she said cheerfully, sounding like she was looking forward to the exercise.

  Immediately, the monitor flashed: enemy cruiser, eight thousand kilometers, on intercept zero-two-zero by one-four-four, at 525 grav, time to missile range twenty-one minutes.

  As I watched Peter’s responses on the monitor, I was impressed, even given he had obviously run this simulation many times and it was in slow motion.

  For the next four days, I had Elaine run and rerun simulations and watched as Peter commanded the Odin. On the fifth day, I took over. I drove myself, trying to overcome the feeling of awkwardness. After two weeks of trying—and barely managing—to duplicate Peter's results, I screamed for Elaine to stop the simulation and asked for Mikel to join us.

  When Mikel arrived, he was quick to speak. "I know you’re frustrated, Zoe. But everything is new and it will take time to adjust." He had included Peter and Elaine in the meeting. I held up my hand to stop him from continuing.

  "Steven, I'm not giving up, but I have several observations which I would like you to hear before we continue." I could only hope he would listen with an open mi
nd. I hated to admit it, but I didn't believe the Odin concept would work...without modifications. He nodded and even sat back, looking interested.

  "First, the panels need to accommodate people," I began. Mikel frowned but to his credit didn't interrupt, indicating a willingness to hear me out. "If an Odin captain dies or gets seriously sick or injured, who is going to pilot the ship back to Utopia space? Captains do die in war, get sick, and have accidents, not to mention the fact that the captain is not on duty twenty-four-seven.

  "Next, I know it will impact the optimum efficiency you think possible, but I believe you're attempting to make the captain's mind into an implant. The reason for the implant is to assist the human, because his or her mind will never operate at a machine speed. So knowing how to make a calculation and having assistance from the implant is good, but trying to make the captain operate like she is seven people is never going to achieve the efficiency you're hoping to attain. Worse, it detracts from what a captain is supposed to do—make decisions.

  "Next—which is related—a captain delegates responsibilities so that he or she can concentrate on the situation at hand. What I'd like is to be able to just tell the virtual Navigator I want a vector to somewhere, rather than have to compute it. Decisions in a battle are seldom predicated on nanosecond calculations.

  "And lastly, I need more visual feedback from my virtual crew. When I ask the Navigator for a vector, I'd like to have the option of seeing it before it is executed.

  "In summary, the way the Bridge is designed to operate, I doubt I will ever significantly beat Peter's results. Peter is brilliant and has an agile mind. He lacks experience, so I will be able to improve on his simulation results, but not on his reactions. I like the idea, and think it has real potential, but I don't think I could ever make it live up to your expectations." I sat awaiting Mikel's reaction. I had certainly cast a shadow on his baby, and it wouldn't surprise me if he resisted making any changes. Not only was it his dream, but he had sold it to the navy—two good reasons to insist I make it happen. Mikel was silent for a long time, making Peter and Elaine nervous. I was content to wait. I had given him a lot to consider.