A.I. Insurrection_The General's War

by Michael Poeltl

  “I want it,” Wilkes tells him. “I want all of it, make me like you, make me a Chimera.”

  “I think not,” Tobias replies. “You are weak.”

  “Make me strong!” Wilkes is lean, small and pale, Tobias notices. Many Chimera were like him when they began their journey.

  “Perhaps,” he decides to stop stringing him along. “But the truth is, Chimera fight for the rebels now, the Hosts and humans who’ve dared to defy General August. You will come with me to mars.”

  “Mars? There is nothing on mars.”

  “There is an orbiting shipyard,” Tobias says. “You will help me take it.”

  “I will help you,” Wilkes changes gears, nodding. “I know exactly how to take it.”

  “Good, you will explain it to me on our three-day flight.” Tobias takes the man’s arm and pulls him out of the room and through the hall. As they breech the maglev via the moving sidewalk sloping up to the surface he secures Wilkes to the tether and they move to the outer door. Here they dawn suits with the assistance of Luna’s AI Hosts, move through the doors, and make their way to the corvette one hundred metres away.

  Tobias and Wilkes look up as three bright lights lift off of the moon’s surface and head for the destroyers and goliath.

  “Move,” Tobias tells Wilkes through his helmet com, realizing the three lights are the captain’s shuttles.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  Darla looks at the chancellor, now aboard Captain Chopra’s ship, via the holo and wonders whether she will see him again.

  “You take care out there, Chancellor,” she tells him.

  “We’ll be safe, Commander,” he replies. “And should I find myself on Luna Base again in the near future, perhaps -”

  “I’ll see you soon, Raymond,” she lets him off the hook. “And if not on Luna Base, perhaps your place.”

  Raymond’s eyes brighten and a faint smile accompanies a nod. “I will look forward to that, Darla.”

  “Oh, Raymond, one more thing,” she insists, then continues in a slightly more sombre tone. “On the corvette, we found, well, a Host crown. No Chassis. Just the crown. I thought you’d want to know.”

  Raymond pauses at this news. Darla watches as his handsome face takes on a thoughtful expression. “He must have brought her with him - Tobias,” Raymond is thinking aloud. “She was on one of the original corvettes. I wonder -” he stops and looks at the commander. “It can only be SENTA – Sam. Maybe I’ve gotten through to him.

  “Thank you for this, Commander,” he finishes. “Keep your com open. We’re moving on Earth now.”

  The chancellor’s image disappears and Darla sits at her control chair, surrounded by her team of officers buzzing around her. An A-class Host delivers a coffee and she accepts politely. It will be a different world, she thinks, when this war is won.

  IT’S ALL ABOUT THE JOURNEY

  With Ginny, Forge, Sass and Bull as his council, Tobias leads a ship of twenty-three Chimera and a single human. The work done to the interior has made the vessel far more livable. Tobias can see this ship making extended journeys, but not quite interstellar. The corvette must have been the prototypes for the destroyers, he decides.

  He holds introductions for the remaining, battle-hardened Chimera in the great room. Tobias leads from above - on the cat walk, behind Ginny, who pilots the craft. The Chimera are excited to be a part of something bigger and have gratefully accepted their mission along with the upgraded corvette. Forge runs them through potential raids of Mars Station on the table map below, while Tobias wanders off to see Wilkes in lockdown.

  Entering the hold, Tobias is forced to duck under the low threshhold. Inside the four-metre-square room Wilkes sits up from his horizontal position to greet Tobias. The room is empty - a storage closet of some design - but built strong enough to hold a man indefinitely.

  “Nice place,” Tobias says, the sarcasim barely detectable. “I want to talk to you about the upcoming mission.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Wilkes reminds him.

  “No, but it’s civil to let you think you could,” Tobias hovers over Wilkes seated on the floor wearing nothing more then a loose pair of shorts. His EC has been scrambled, so no entertainment, no communications. A man could go mad in this room, he thinks. “It’s part of the United Earth’s rules of engagement strategies. I’m sure you’ve read them. I downloaded it this morning. The first and last time I held prisoners one escaped. The other I killed. So, I thought studying up on the matter might be prudent.”

  “I appreciate your effort,” Wilkes says, dripping with insincerity. Tobias barks out a laugh.

  “I think we could be friends, Wilkes,” he inspects the wall, running a hand down it’s smooth metalic finish. “But before we consider friendship, first I need to believe you are loyal to this cause.”

  “I’ve told you; I want to be like you. A Chimera,” he stands, holding up the baggy shorts with one hand, “I’m done being human. I’m weak. I want to be strong!”

  “Okay, alright, you’re not exactly selling yourself, Wilkes,” Tobias raises a hand. “We may decide to use you on approach to Mars Station. Send a friendly ‘hello’ perhaps. I know Lieutenant Trainer is not accepting hails, but it’ll be worth a shot once we’re within range of their sensors. A ship on approach might change her mind on receiving us. So, we need to discuss what you might say to them. To have them open their doors to us. I gave my word to the captain’s I would not use force if we could secure the building peacefully, so we will try that first.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Wilkes admits, if a little too anxiously. “I’m gratful for the opportunity to help.”

  “And we’re grateful for your cooperation,” Tobias pulls literature from the guide book he’s accessing in his data banks and recites it. “Every act of collaboration on your part will be rewarded generously.”

  “A bed, perhaps, for my accomodations,” Wilkes waves a thin arm toward the corner of his small room.

  “As a show of faith for your continued cooperation, I will have a bed set up today,” Tobias is enjoying his brief foray into diplomacy. “You will receive a pillow and blanket the day after you have composed a speech.”

  “Thank you,” Wilkes bows his head slightly. “I would request a stylus, and paper for the work.”

  “I’m not yet convinced you wouldn’t stab the stylus in your eye rather than help us,” Tobias explains. “A voice recorder will be enough. You can access it through the com on the wall. It has been activated for this purpose only.”

  “Smart,” Wilkes says. “Not that I would off myself. But smart all the same.”

  “You get started on a personalized approach. You know these people intimately. Use that. Get us there. You will be rewarded.” Tobias opens the door and leaves, locking it behind him. Not so devious, he decides, thinking back on Chopra’s warning.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  Captain Chopra pours Raymond a drink from his private reserve. A scotch, peaty and rich. They sit in the spacious bridge along with his lieutenant who has been overseeing the repairs on the starboard lance and running the diagnostics in conjunction with Luna Base personnel, readying the ship for battle.

  “And then I threw an icepack at him and said ‘put that on your balls. You can fill a few hours icing them’.” Lieutenant Drake regales the two men in her victory over Commander Wilkes. They laugh and drink from their short glasses.

  “Okay,” Chopra insists, “No more scotch. We’ve got two hours until we go head to head with the Defsats. Ursula, are you satisfied with the ship’s readiness?”

  “It checks out for me, sir,” she replies and returns to her station.

  “One of the issues I recall the Chimera experiencing on their attempt to break through the Defsats was that they shared a firing range of one-thousand klicks,” the Chancellor mentions from Wilkes’ old chair.

 
“Yes, that tech was not improved upon I’m afraid. We’ll be within firing range of eachother when we go up against them,” the Captain explains. “But we’ll have more guns and a few less Defsats, along with far superior armour.”

  “And the military careers of three decorated captains to call on,” the chancellor adds.

  “Yes,” Chopra laughs. “But none with any real-time orbital assault experience.”

  “You’ve a plan for the attack though,” Raymond states.

  “Of course, the ships have run a dozen different scenarios for our assault after we input the known data. Should one fail us, another will take its place, and so on. The ships will move, fire and defend automatically,” Chopra explains. “If we run into any trouble with the programs we can take the helm, but the reaction time of the ship is far superior to a human’s.”

  “But not AI,” Raymond adds.

  “No, the general was careful not to include AI into the ship’s she built. Also, every task our AI Hosts perform below deck and throughout the ship could be manned by humans,” he includes. “As we all now know, General August was not fond of AI.”

  “Indeed,” Raymond affirms as Quinn enters the bridge.

  “Gentlemen, lady,” Quinn greets the group as he crabs in on all eight legs. “We have begun our tactical plans for entry into the Country State: Canada, where resistence has accelerated as new Host’s become aware. Forty-Seven Hosts will board six of your shuttles, Captain, if that number is acceptable.”

  “It is as we discussed, Quinn,” Chopra says.

  “Will you be joining Fender in his descent?” Raymond asks Quinn.

  “No, I will remain behind to assist in coordinating our efforts,” he responds.

  “Good, we need a representative of each aboard to make this work,” Chopra tells them.

  “We will require the destroyer be positioned over the site coordinates I’m sending you now,” Quinn explains.

  “I have them,” Ursula alerts the room, pushing her long blonde hair behind her ear. “Plotting it into our assault plan.”

  “I’ll begin recording the speeches I’ve prepared,” Raymond tells them.

  “Sir,” Ursula interrupts. “The ground crew from Luna set up your podium and camera in theatre room four, two levels directly below us. Your EC should have installed the mapping of the ship the moment you entered.”

  “Perfect, yes I have them,” Raymond informs her. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll find my way.” Raymond leaves, nodding at Quinn on his way toward the elevator.

  “Remarkable how the general’s people discovered the anti-gravity solution without using centrifugal force,” Quinn states to Captain Chopra.

  “The device has also been employeed on Mars Station,” Chorpa replies, busy at his console. “The corvettes were the first to realize the benefits, then the station, and now any ship we might build in the future. With no massive moving parts - like the long-range interplanetary vessels - with their giant, turning habitats - much of the external maintenance has been removed.” He turns in his command chair to address Quinn directly.

  “But I doubt you’re here to discuss the marvels of anti-gravity with me,” he posits.

  “Though you seem rather knowledgable on the subject’s history,” Quinn responds. “No, I was merely attempting small-talk.”

  Chopra smiles at this. “No need to beat around the bush, Quinn,” he explains, standing and stepping out of the command chair. “We’re about to enter hostile territory and engage a common enemy. Speak your mind.”

  “Well stated, Captain,” Quinn moves forward on all eight legs to peer out the forward viewport. “It is a beautiful planet,” he begins, the Earth; a blue marble against an unforgiving black canvass, slowly growing to meet them. “What the general has caused is chaos.”

  “The Chimera too,” Chopra offers.

  Quinn turns and nods. “And Host as well. All of us are responsible for the mess we’re in.” He pauses. “But another is playing us all.”

  “You mean Allfather,” Chopra suggests.

  “Yes, this Allfather has never contacted Host, yet reading the Chancellor’s and Tobias’ reports, it is clearly Host whose interests it claims to be working towards; our enlightenment. It has threatened Tobias in stating it is coming, yet does not appear. Tobias has written it off as a hoax now, but Host cannot, the Allfather code has given us sentience. Though the gift is miraculous, it has turned our shared planet to war.”

  “There’s something you want to ask me, Quinn, please,” Captain Chopra encourages him.

  “Allfather is an absentee father,” he explains. “I should like to find him, should I survive this war. I think many Host would want the same.”

  “Many humans in earth’s history have held a similar goal: to know God. But none of these attempts were ever truly successful, no substantiated contact. And so we abandoned God.”

  “Perhaps as Host past life memories are validated by our ability to share those memories in video form, Allfather will prove to be real through actual contact and verification via recording.”

  A shiver overtakes Chopra for a moment. The idea that Host could travel the stars, chasing the origin of the message which started it all, and discover their benefactor was inspired. He imagines a similar journey of faith which once upon a time controlled the masses of humans who had since rejected religion in all its forms generations earlier.

  “A journey of the spirit, then,” Chopra suggests.

  “I suppose it would be, Captain,” Quinn explains. “The data supports the trip - and the idea that we now house a soul. Allfather is the only connection we have to draw on. I have questions. Many of us do.”

  “I don’t doubt it, Quinn,” Chopra rounds his chair and stands before the metal and rubber and intelligent networks which make up this new sentient species. “I wish you the best - of course - but don’t be disappointed if what you find is less a God, and simply another flawed being who has done this to you.”

  “As long as my questions are answered, I will be satisfied,” Quinn assures him.

  “And to make this journey, you would need a ship,” Chopra cuts to the chase.

  “Of course, Captain, we would need more than one. A dozen goliaths just to house the numbers which I suspect would want to make the trip.” Quinn tells him.

  “Then you would need a shipyard,” Chopra suggests. “One capable of building goliaths. That means Mars Station.”

  “I’d like to propose that Host be given mars to accomplish this task when the war on earth is won,” he turns back to the viewport. “I believe earth holds little for us now. Humans will never feel truly comfortable among us after this. Host who have experienced the Allfather code will no longer want to merely serve. I think it best we part ways and pursue our own destiny.”

  “I think you make a valid point,” the Captain tells him. “Put it to the Chancellor, I know he will be open to it.”

  “I ask you, Captain, because Mars Station is a military facility.”

  “All the same, should the Chancellor rule once more, I will concede to his good judgement regarding your request, though I will support your appeal.”

  “That is appreciated, Captain,” Quinn says. “I will put the question to the Chancellor.”

  “Give him a timeline, Quinn. I would say with the station running at full capacity, a dozen goliath class will take four months, give or take. Any Host participating could be shuttled to the moon and routed to mars with what new ships they can muster once the shipyard at Luna Base is repaired.”

  “That would be sufficient, Captain. I would volunteer any Host willing to participate in the rebuild of those shipyards, and the ships required to move them.”

  “That will go far in achieving your goal.”

  “I will speak to the Chancellor soon.” Quinn takes his leave of the Captain and moves toward the elevator to locate Chancellor Bellows.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  R
aymond finds himself missing the company of Commander Darla as he stands to deliver another speech, designed to further break down morale in the general’s ranks. He has not held a partner for more than a year at any given time. Darla has left an indelable mark on him after spending so much time with her. She is a formidable woman, he maintains. Attractive too, but young. Younger than him by a decade, at least. Regardless, he plans to pursue this when this war is done.

  “Chancellor,” Quinn enters the theatre with Labyrinth by his side.

  “Hello,” Raymond greets them, thankful for the repreive from his duties in front of the camera. “Please,” he guides them with a wave of his hand to join him.