Peacekeeper- God Complex

by Doug Farren

“Why were we assigned?” Tom asked. “It’s going to take us a month just to get there. There has to be a peacekeeper that’s one hell of a lot closer.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t answer that question,” the Grand Admiral replied. “Due to the presence of a Chroniech warship and the advanced technology demonstrated by the inhabitants, we requested the assistance of a peacekeeper. Peacekeeper Command assigned you.”

  “I would like a full download of all available data to be sent to our ships,” Lashpa said. “We will leave as soon as the modifications to our ships are complete.”

  “I’ll make sure you get all the data we currently possess as well as any updates from the fleet. Additional ships are being sent in case they’re needed.”

  “Your primary mission,” the government representative spoke up, “is to establish contact and secure the release of the crew of the Paranuth. Anything beyond that we will leave to your discretion. I would like to personally request that you attempt to ascertain the current status of the crew as soon as possible.”

  “We will certainly make the attempt,” Lashpa replied.

  Chapter 9

  All three clerks looked up as Tom and Lashpa walked into the Department of Genealogical Records. The building’s internal systems had identified the visitors by reading their identicards and displayed their names and appointment data on the screens in front of the clerks.

  “It is an honor to meet you Peacekeeper Krish-ga-Wilks,” the middle clerk said, dipping his head slightly.

  “I will inform the Chief Administrator that you have arrived,” the clerk on the right said.

  “I hope you are enjoying your stay on Roulda,” the third clerk added.

  “We have had a very good time,” Lashpa replied. “But I think Tom is ready to take a break from our higher gravity.”

  “Then we will not keep you here any longer than necessary,” a deep voice said.

  An elderly female was standing in an open doorway to their right. “I am Chief Administrator Rurgeth. Please, come in.”

  The two peacekeepers followed her into the expansive office. Three others, members of the genealogical review board, were waiting inside. After the introductions, Tom and Lashpa sat down on the comfortable seats.

  “It’s an honor to finally meet you,” Rurgeth said. “You caused quite a debate amongst our staff. Even the members of this review board are not in total agreement with the validity of your declaration. There was even talk of nullifying it—something that has never been done in recent history.”

  Tom glanced at Lashpa. “I can assure you that we are indeed chuloogranack.”

  “You are not Rouldian,” Virung said. “Are you certain you understand the true meaning of gragrakch? To some, your declaration is viewed as an insult to our culture. Declaring gragrakch is nothing like a Terran marriage ceremony which seems to be as ephemeral as the wind and- - -”

  “As you can see,” Rurgeth interrupted, giving Virung a hard look of disapproval. “We are passionate about this aspect of our culture. For some, it is difficult to believe that a non-Rouldian can truly understand the deep meaning of gragrakch.”

  Lashpa started to reply but Tom overrode her by speaking first. Laying a hand on her neck, he stood up and addressed the group. “No, I’m not Rouldian. Who we are as an individual is determined by the body we are given at birth and the culture we are exposed to? There was a time when humans fought each other because of cultural or physical differences. Some still do. I did not choose to be Terran. Lashpa did not choose to be Rouldian. But it is who we are now. We have a bond between us that transcends species. I may not have grown up in a culture that embraces gragrakch, but I know in my heart and in my soul that Lashpa and I are chuloogranack and nothing anyone can say will ever change that.”

  “The concept that a soul can be split between species is inconceivable,” Virung argued.

  “Why not?” Lashpa said, her tail swishing in frustration. “Do you think the universe believes we are special? Why must- - -”

  “We have proof,” Tom said, holding up a memory crystal.

  The room instantly became silent. Rurgeth got up and walked over to Tom. Taking the crystal, she asked, “What is this?”

  Tom tapped the side of his head. “Because we are peacekeepers, Lashpa and I are equipped with a device called a biolink.”

  “I’ve heard of it.”

  “Then you probably know that it allows our ship’s AI to monitor our brainwaves. For more than a year, they’ve been gathering data on Lashpa and I as well as several other peacekeepers who have demonstrated an uncanny ability to know things about each other that is impossible to explain.”

  “It was an anomaly the AIs could not explain,” Lashpa chimed in. “The results of their research are on that chip.”

  Rurgeth held the chip up to her eye and slowly rotated it as if she could read its contents. “Proof of gragrakch?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

  “Perhaps not definitive,” Tom replied. “But it’s a start.”

  Rurgeth stared at Lashpa, her tail sticking almost straight up and vibrating so fast it was almost a blur. “For centuries, we have documented cases where people have known things they could not have. A true scientist, however, will agree that every shred of evidence we have collected so far has been circumstantial. This,” she said, holding the chip in the air, “could be our first scientific proof that gragrakch is more than just a belief.”

  Tom took a deep breath and sat down. Lashpa flicked her tongue out and touched the tip to his cheek. “We need to get you back to your ship.”

  “Is he ill?” Virung asked.

  “Even though his cybernetics allow him to walk around in our gravity, it does have an affect on his internal organs. It’s been a long day. I do not wish to seem rude, but we should cut short our visit.”

  “You have given us a precious gift,” Rurgeth replied. “If this is verified, do we have your permission to publish the results?”

  “Of course,” Tom said. “Make sure you list our AIs as the authors though. We were only the test subjects.”

  “I believe Rouldian law requires that a sentient being be identified as the source of any scientific paper.”

  “The least you can do then is to list them in the credits,” Tom argued.

  Rurgeth headed for the door. “I will ensure that they are.”

  Shortly after climbing into their tricycles, the Orion sent Tom and Lashpa a message, “Krish and myself are ready for departure as soon as you arrive.”

  “Roger that,” Tom replied as his vehicle pulled in behind Lashpa’s. A downpour cut their vision to near zero as soon as they passed through the light force field at the entrance to the underground parking garage. Their tricycle’s automatic pilot, however, had no problem guiding them through the storm.

  “I still don’t agree that our ships can’t be listed as the authors of the paper,” Tom said. “They’re the ones who did all the work.”

  “Rouldian law specifies that any publication being submitted for technical review must be authored by a sentient being. The law also does not recognize an AI as being sentient.”

  “There are some who would argue that point.”

  Tom’s tricycle rocked as it was buffeted by a strong gust of wind from the storm raging around them. It was one of the most powerful thunderstorms he had ever encountered. Some time ago, during a particularly severe thunderstorm on Earth, Lashpa had told him that Rouldian thunderstorms were more like Terrestrial hurricanes. At the time, he thought she was boasting. Now that he was in the middle of one, he understood she was not.

  “Krish and I cannot be offended,” Orion said. “Although we appear sentient and seem to possess feelings and emotions, we would like to make it clear that all of these are simply programmed features. We are designed to emulate such emotions to make it easier for you to interact with us. Although it’s easy to do so, you should never forget that we are a machine intelligence. If you desire, you can order us to appear more machine-
like.”

  “I prefer you just the way you are,” Tom replied.

  “As do I,” Lashpa agreed.

  “Why on earth did peacekeeper command assign this job to us,” Tom said. “Even at maximum drive it’s going to take us a month to get there. Any idea what you’re going to do during the trip?”

  “Obviously, we were the most qualified,” she replied. “Assignments such as this are usually done by the AIs at peacekeeper command. Their decisions are based on every available fact; something that only an AI can do. I have a lot of reading I want to catch up on and I hope to begin a new living art project. I also ordered some paint. I’m going to try my hand at redecorating my stateroom. What about you?”

  “Reading and watching my collection of old science fiction shows. I recently downloaded the entire Stargate series.”

  “Stargate? Is that one of your Terran television programs?”

  “Yes. There were actually four separate runs based on the same theme. People travel from one planet to another using a ring-shaped device called a stargate that creates a wormhole between two such gates. People step into one and pop out of the other one.”

  “An interesting concept. Of course, such a device is an impossibility and even if it was theoretically possible, the energy requirements would be astronomical.”

  Tom’s tricycle slowed as it approached the starport security gate. The gate accepted his security clearance and opened.

  “That’s why it’s called science fiction. A century ago, my people proved that faster than light travel was impossible. A couple centuries before that, scientists thought they could prove that heavier than air flight was impossible. Technological progress has a way of making science fiction real.”

  “When are you planning on starting your own living art project?”

  The rain came to an abrupt stop as Tom’s tricycle drove under the protection of his ship. The narrow gap between the bottom of the hull and the reinforced concrete seemed to amplify the wind but it also abruptly ended as the Orion erected a low-power force field. The canopy slid open and Tom climbed out.

  “I think I’m going to wait until we’re on our way back,” he said, continuing his conversation as he walked up the ramp into his ship. “If I start it now, I’m going to have some seedlings that will need almost daily care by the time we reach the planet. We might be away from our ships for quite a while and my project will be ruined.”

  Tom headed for the control center.

  “Don’t wait too long,” Lashpa warned. “The seeds are only viable for a few months.”

  “We are cleared for departure,” Orion told him.

  “Lift when ready,” Tom ordered. “My first priority,” he said, continuing his conversation with Lashpa, “will be to spend a couple days reviewing everything we currently know about what happened on L103-021. I think we should perform an independent assessment of the data and then sit down to talk about it.”

  “I agree. How about a virtual meeting in two days?”

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  Even though the ship’s AI was easily capable of handling the departure, Tom remained in the Orion’s control center until they were clear of Roulda’s atmosphere.

  “Set course for the Tharveth. Set our velocity to keep Krish well within sensor range at all times.”

  As soon as they were safely in space, Tom went to the ship’s small kitchen, made himself a Reuben, and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. Of course, the beer stocked in his ship had very little alcohol in it. With both legs and both arms cybernetic, he had little tolerance to alcohol.

  “Show me everything from L103-021 in chronological order,” he said, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.

  “Would you prefer to see it as a projection or should I construct a virtual reality scenario?” the ship’s AI asked.

  “Virtual reality. Make me an invisible observer.”

  There was a two second delay, then Tom suddenly found himself on the bridge of the Vartha’oon just as the ship was establishing a stable orbit around the planet. The Orion’s AI was able to immerse him in a near perfect simulation by using his cybernetic systems. As with all peacekeepers, his legs, arms, ears, and eyes were cybernetic and tightly linked into his nervous system. The entire top of his skull had been removed and replaced with an armored technological wonder known as the biolink which permanently connected him to his ship.

  Through months of training, the Orion had learned to understand Tom’s thoughts and feelings. Although it was not possible for them to converse through the biolink as if they were talking face-to-face, it was possible for Tom to access many of the special features of his cybernetics simply by thinking about them. Silent communication was also possible. Tom could speak to his ship by carefully and clearly thinking about his words. The ship could reply by speaking to him through his auditory implants or sending him visual information through his artificial eyes.

  The advanced cybernetics gave all peacekeepers enhanced strength, speed, and other capabilities. When in full uniform, they were encased in dull black armor. Peacekeepers were given their unique abilities so they could perform their duty as the keepers of the law throughout the entire Alliance. The AIs assigned to each peacekeeper kept a careful watch on their charges and had the ability to shut them down if they attempted to exceed their authority. If a peacekeeper became separated from the AI watching over them for more than 48 hours, their cybernetic systems would automatically revert to a non-enhanced slower mode of operation and eventually would cease functioning altogether.

  Tom ate his lunch as he moved from one ship to another so he could see first-hand what had transpired on L103-021. When the text message appeared, he paused the scene so he could reread it several times. When it was over, he kept his eyes closed as he thought about what he’d just witnessed. Thirty minutes later, he got up and headed for his stateroom.

  He decided to spend the rest of the evening watching his new science fiction programs. This would distract him and allow his subconscious to review the situation. In the morning, he would have the Orion replay it all over again and then he would try to figure out how best to proceed.

  Chapter 10

  “Lashpa is requesting a virtual conference,” Orion announced.

  “Ah! I’ve been wondering when she was going to call,” Tom replied. “Tell her I’ll be ready in a just a moment.”

  Tom finished his bathroom activities then went to the ship’s control center and sat down in the command chair. “Ready.”

  The consoles and displays around him faded away and were replaced by a recreation of the park near the Peacekeeper Academy where he and Lashpa had spent so much time together. Tom found himself sitting up against the trunk of a large tree. He was wearing a light pair of pants and a short sleeve shirt exposing a pair of normal, non-cybernetic arms. Lashpa, also devoid of her cybernetics, was laying in the grass a meter away. The sun was shining and several birds, oblivious of their presence, were happily combing the grass looking for bugs and worms.

  Tom looked around and smiled. “I’ve always liked this place. Good choice.”

  “Me too,” Lashpa replied. “I want to thank you again for the real grass flooring. You have no idea how much better I feel about being cooped up inside my ship. I’ve already suggested that other Rouldian peacekeepers make similar modifications to their own vessels.”

  “Frankly, I’m surprised nobody else ever thought about it.”

  “Even though our passenger ships have living floors, our military considers it an unnecessary luxury. Peacekeeper ships have followed that same line of reasoning.”

  “But our ships are our homes,” Tom argued. “We should treat them as such.”

  “Point well taken. Have you come to any conclusions concerning the situation on L103-021?”

  “I think so. First, I’d like to focus on the message received from the planet. Any thoughts?”

  “I’m glad you brought it up,” she replied. “I get the
distinct feeling it was sent by an individual. Could we be dealing with a more advance Kyrra probe similar to the Hess?”

  “I thought the same thing,” Tom replied. “The message was worded as if it came from a single person. But I don’t think it’s a Kyrra probe. A probe similar to the Hess would not have taken prisoners. It would have warned us away. So the question is, who the hell are we dealing with? Whoever they are, they’re in possession of a powerful arsenal of advanced weapons. We’re going to have to be very careful.”

  “They’ve threatened to destroy any ship that approaches the planet,” Lashpa pointed out. “Why would we be treated any differently?”

  Tom stood up, walked over to Lashpa, and sat down putting his back against her side. She curled her tail around until it was resting on his legs. “The Vartha’oon received no warning,” he said. “In fact, the message quite specifically says that warships are forbidden. Our ships have been stripped of all visible weapons. If they follow their own rules, we should be able to land without interference.”

  “So you’re thinking we should openly approach the planet?” Lashpa asked. “Should we also broadcast who we are and why we’re there?”

  Tom scratched the back of his head. “They don’t seem to be much on talking. I think we should stay silent unless we’re contacted first. Orion, give me a map of the area surrounding the Paranuth.”

  An aerial map appeared on the ground in front of Tom. Lashpa swiveled her head around so she could see. Tom put a finger on the heavy paper. “The crew was taken north of their ship.” He slid his finger along the map until it rested on a mountaintop lake. “The base is located here, about 30 kilometers to the northwest.”

  Tom’s finger lifted then came down on a spot a few kilometers east of the Paranuth. The tip of his finger rested on a small lake surrounded by a heavily wooded area. “I doubt we’ll be allowed to land near where the crew are being held. If nothing is done to stop us, I suggest we set down here. There’s a clear patch of rock on the northern side of the lake that’s just large enough for a single ship to set down.”