by Marcus Sloss
My Gpad pinged and I saw Jevon and his Aspen officers at the base of the ramp. A lot of eyes shifted to look at the door when I waved them up. When everyone was assembled, I went into a quick final brief.
“This is not combat. Let me assure you, when we hit an enemy, they will not be evenly matched. The goal here is to learn—as a team. Can your unit keep their formations through trees? Can the tanks glide over water? Does firing your tank with an octosuit on its back affect the accuracy of your rounds? These are the walking phase questions of our crawl, walk, and then run.” I checked my Gpad. “We have about five hours before we have to be ready to sprint.”
A ripple passed through the ranks of my officers. For many of them, this was their first command in a combat situation. Shit was starting to get real.
“How many of you were scolded? Show of hands?” I asked and no hands went up. “How many of you felt you could have done better?” Every hand went up.
Good. That was the point of these training events.
“Get back to your units. No suicide tactics. In twenty minutes, we’ll do it again. Only one objective this time: Xgate 232. Dismissed,” I bellowed and the troops filtered out. Willow tried to push her way against the tide to come talk to me, but I pointed her back outside the hold. I would comfort her later. She needed to learn how to harness that frustration.
Jevon stepped up. “What did you think?” I asked.
“You charged in like a madman. I was always better at the strategy until the chaos unfolded. Once the fecal matter hit the oscillating blades … Well, you tend to beat me there. Everly adapted quickly,” Jevon said with a grunt. “Not a fan of suicide tactics, but Eric, we need to think of a way to make it work.”
I think I knew where he was going, “You mean if the operating system can work remotely? Why not just buy drones that can explode?” I asked Jevon, who shrugged. I turned to Sammie, “Get me Peterson on the line.”
My armored maid tapped her Gpad rapidly. A moment later, my Gpad, which I wore strapped over my acrium, activated.
“Go for Peterson,” she said, just audio.
“Can we make drone bombs or autonomous traps?” I asked.
“Possibly. The gate controller prevents AI-controlled anything inside the market, but I asked my storage mentor, a teddy bear from childhood, about autonomous machines outside of the portal. Anyway, AI are like space programs—they get nixed by the mother ship if built organically ... And you aren’t allowed to take an inactive AI into the grand market to be … awoken? I guess awoken works.”
“So,” I groused, “no autonomous booby traps?”
“Cap, some of this we’re going to have to figure out on our own. Maybe you can go ask your storage mentor for more specifics on these rules? I asked mine if there were any fully autonomous drones—short answer: no. But the blimps are fully autonomous and even have alert programs built in. So…”
I sighed. It was time for me to visit Goldie again.
“Alright, Peterson, thanks for the information.” I thought for a moment, then keyed my Gpad again, “I want you to take on a side project, figure out how we can add drones to our training and war games without risking any of our drones. Cap out.”
“Mitchell!” I shouted to the man at the railing outside the crew’s chamber. “You have command.”
“I have command,” he acknowledged.
Jevon slapped me on the shoulder goodbye. I walked to the nearest octosuit wanting to test the machine but thought better of it. They were bruisers. Not speedsters. I unlocked Bonnet’s TP63 with a smirk. I saw her notice my dastardly maneuver a little too late as she was chatting with Ulanda.
“Hey, that's my ride, Cap!” She shouted as I slid onto the seat.
I was gone before she could complain. If you're not cheating you're not trying hard enough!
The drive to the portal was only two minutes. I left the TP63 open and running while I hopped through the golden shimmer to visit Goldie. When I arrived in the storage area, I saw Perci balled up in a pile of blankets, snoring lightly.
I smirked, then wished to see Goldie and he appeared.
“I have read your mind.” The fish blew some bubbles. “The issue is rather delicate; if you input a command or control, which has an effect on a robot, that disqualifies it as an AI. You can, hypothetically speaking, build a sensor, have that sensor tripped by movement, which initiates a command program, causing a generator to hover towards that movement before exploding. There is no Artificial Intelligence in such a construct or sequence of events, Eric,” Goldie said. “Maybe you are overthinking it. If you build a program that thinks and, to some extent feels, then you have built an AI. I will let you in on a little secret, Eric, AI are not suicidal.”
I grunted, “And if I program a suicidal sled that moves towards my enemies that can differentiate friend from foe?”
“The enemy will shoot it down, or the shield will keep it out. You have to consider whether or not differentiating friend from foe requires ‘thinking’. The answer is no. You have your own forces marked on a network. The device can ascertain from its sensors that what is approaching is not one of your forces …” Goldie stopped and hiccoughed, before continuing. “My rambling is revealing too much. I appreciate you seeking clarity in this matter. My purpose here was to help prevent avoidable deaths by beings trying to survive on their own world. You have achieved that goal, today. Defend those you cherish with everything you can,” Goldie said with a sad smile. The image slipped just a flicker, an automatron appearing in its place. The body consisted of a ball with a squat head and two arms. “May I assist you with anything else?”
“What is she still doing here?” I asked, pointing to Perci.
“That crafty little human,” the droid chuckled, “she stashed away some funds. She was able to study past purchase patterns from what Winston sent you. Persephone digested the information and learned that the best shopping time for contracts is in about three hours from now. The contract market is unique; it stops posting new auctions with a quarter-time left, and stops all sales within an hour of the golden market shutting down. She went back in and touched every single marker to watch the reduction bidding begin.”
“Why wouldn’t you advise this?” I asked, folding my arms.
The robot pointed again to Perci before saying, “I did advise this. Your initial purchases were because of you. Not her. She is the thrifty one.” The image flickered again and Goldie bubbled laughter at me. “Fret not, Eric Yang. I have seen what you did for your people, of all species. I had high hopes for the other version of humanity that descended due to lexium. You, young chap. You are different. Now go figure out how to protect those you care about with all this alien technology.”
I nodded and walked over to kiss Perci on the forehead. She rotated her head towards me, but stayed asleep. I left the quiet storage room for the Earth. The golden light blinded my vision and when it cleared, I cursed to see a TP63 fading rapidly into the distance.
Well played, Bonnet, well played.
My walk home was cut short when AH1 landed in front of me with the ramp down. I trotted up and put in a call to Harvard once I was in the hold.
“Go for S2. Oh, hey Cap, I am not quite done with my report on this market’s analysis. Did you have a different question?” Harvard asked.
“Yes. I need you to work with Felix and Longoria on this. We need to turn spare generators into mobile mines that trigger based on motion, heat, or whatever sensor you decide to tie it to ... basically, we are allowed to program traps. Faeries are trap experts. I am calling you, because you've got most of our big brains. If you know someone better suited to run this project, stick them on the job with Longoria with my approval.”
“I have a few people I can run it by.” Harvard scratched his head. “Perci is the smartest programmer I know, but she is hardly the only hacking genius we have around here. There are a lot of folks in Aspen who were top-level software people before the apocalypse.” He grinned, “I’ll
get back to you on your diabolical traps. Harvard out.”
I walked for the ramp leading up to the captain’s station. The smell in the animal hauler was gone, I really was curious as to how they had managed to make that miracle happen.
I was only halfway up the ramp when an alert hit my Gpad. Linda Growlen, herself, was calling. I finished walking to the door and poked my head in to see Mitchell organizing his troops.
“Elithen fly me home, Mitchell can manage the battle from anywhere,” I said and then answered a call I was sure I would regret. If there was one woman on this planet that scared the crap out of me while simultaneously making me want to throttle someone, it was Linda Growlen.
CHAPTER 12
“Took you long enough,” Linda Growlen said with a grumpy face. She looked almost identical to her daughter, Perci. Shit. I was glad Perci was sleeping right now.
“You appear to age well, Miss Growlen,” I said with a snicker.
“Trust me, I zap that stupid ass doctor every time I see him. I fucking hate looking like a baby-faced girl. I have to be an extra big asshole to get people to take me seriously. I come bearing gifts, come meet me at your… are you building a fucking castle? Are those servants in maid outfits? What the hell did I miss, Eric? Did you unlock sorcery or something?”
“I’ve stunned the legendary Linda Growlen,” I grinned impishly, “impressive! I would happily trade you. Don’t kidnap my personal help, though. I am,” I paused, seeing that we were about to crest the new trees we had planted behind our hesco wall, “about to cross over the trees in an animal hauler. Ensure your pilots don't spook.”
I walked to the back of the aircraft and looked out the ramp as the aircraft soared over the homes being built by Crixxi, Faeries, and Pandarin in the trees. Cranes cluttered the skyline to help a number of tall building take shape. For now, we had decided to keep the hesco wall on the southern side of the trees and planted the massive trees north of our original defensive wall. Eventually, I wanted to shift those defenses to the south and plant more gigantic trees. Even if we bought additional trees and planted them south of the current hesco wall, they wouldn’t become homes until a new wall was built further south. Until then, they would break up offensive formations.
I stepped off the edge of the ramp the moment AH1 hovered ten feet off the ground. My legs absorbed the shock of a fall at this distance with ease.
Two chinook helicopters were parked in front of the cliff wall. I noticed Linda had only brought a small group with her, including a general, five guards, and a few henchmen. The chinook pilots were pissing on the canyon wall in the background while their engines powered down. The guards wore inferior armor, the general was in a fancy, dress uniform, and Linda was wearing yoga pants and a sweater. Something was off for sure. My abrupt arrival caused Linda’s guards to tense, a blue field popping up around them, revealing the guards had some minimal shielding.
I chuckled. I was in acrium. These goons took their hands off their weapons at a single glare from Linda.
“Where the fuck am I? And is that you, Eric?” Linda asked with a scowl.
It drove me insane, how much she looked like Perci. It was the same with Willow’s mom. Jacky ended up moving to Aspen merely because things had gotten so awkward, with me mixing the two up one too many times.
“You are in Mansion. This is the Bastion Community. I control Aspen now, too. My army is conducting drills, at the moment,” I said proudly.
The general stepped forward and bristled like a schnauzer. “There is only one army in this country, son: the US Army. I applaud you for training your men and rescues into being able to defend this base. We got wind of your prowess from refugees all the way from Boulder.” The general pointed to the towering goliath stationary against the cliff wall. “They said some massive ape creature threatened them out of their home. As tall as that thing. They said. You took them in, then let them go since they wanted to leave.” He looked up at the Goliath. “What is that giant robot?”
“That is one of my construction robots,” I said with a smirk. “And we have over four thousand troops in the field right now, not hundreds.”
A window curtain peeled back from inside RV1 and Longoria spotted me. A moment later the door burst open and the Fairy flapped towards me with a Mounamine right behind her. The two of them were a sight. Longoria had a tangled mess of bed-head and wore a frilly yellow summer dress that could have doubled as a nighty. The maid must have received one of the first of the maid-outfits Perci wanted to put all our staff in. They arrived together, ignoring the sidelong glances cast their way by the President’s guards to curtsy before me.
I tapped the busty maid’s bowtie; her name was Dorthy. “Dorthy,” I said, “there should be beer in my cooling chest in RV3. Please hand a few out and prepare coffee.” Another curtsy and she turned back to RV3 with no other response.
“How is building going?” Linda asked. “Where is my daughter?”
Longoria looked hesitantly at Perci’s mom. She was an ancient Fairy and cued in quickly to who this was. “As the next stage of Bastion’s growth depends heavily on building up our infrastructure, Perci is staying at the portal for the last few Fairy auctions.” She turned to me, “The market drained me. I picked up everything we needed, plus some extras. You will want better stone harvesting equipment—not mining tools—but we can work with what is here.”
“Get in the vat Longoria,” I instructed, “you'll be sticking close to me today.” I held up index finger to Linda, telling her to wait a moment.
“My ability to fly will be significantly reduced,” Longoria said, not objecting, merely notifying me of the consequences.
When I didn’t reply, she pulled off her thin, yellow summer dress to reveal a perfect, tight body. I gulped and she smirked with a twinkle in her eye. My ability to comprehend a near-limitless life-expectancy with virum was lost at times. How old one looked meant nothing. In this case, I stared into the eyes of a lovely ancient lady. The others grunted or shifted in agitation as she exposed her body and sauntered off towards the acrium vats. I crooked an elbow for Linda Growlen to join me and she darted to my side eagerly.
“Ah, I have to be such an asshole power tripping bitch all the time to get anything done that people cower around me. It is refreshing to deal with a confident man,” Linda said, but not to stroke my ego. Apparently she felt the need to remind me that she was voluntarily keeping her authority in check. “Why is there a busty mouse-woman in a maid outfit here and where is my daughter?”
“Like Longoria said, Perci is working. Dorthy here is going to attend to your grandchildren.”
Linda beamed.
“Will Perci have siblings?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.
Linda responded with a death stare.
“You created this virum transformation,” I reminded her, “be glad I am being hospitable. I am not only trained to kill your soldiers, their weapons are inferior to my armor. Not to mention, they are running carbon generators on their power packs. Ridiculous.”
“We can’t all be warrior kings,” she sniffed. “We are the last surviving bit of the USA and I rule a democracy, not a dictatorship. Politics are a mess right now. You would think the virum outbreak would have been welcomed. Things have changed for me, a lot. I made a few decisions that were unpopular and we still have three bodies of government. I had an agent forward a nitrogen generator bill and Congress voted instead to buy carbon power plants.” Linda grimaced.
I gave her an ‘are you serious’ look.
She nodded, “Yup. We are doing great weathering the transition because we are hidden in a remote base underground with no Xgates nearby. The Teton Fortress is exactly that. We are isolated and only see the results of the deteriorating situation aboveground in reports. There is no direct exposure to the aliens, except to their alien technology—and even that is causing problems. That … and overcrowding. We’re a million people crowded into an underground bunker.” She frowned, “A million slightly si
ck people.”
We crossed the threshold of my armory. A door was already hung, the walls going up with freshly milled boards. Longoria dipped into the vat while I led an inquisitive President Growlen to a bench where we could watch the transformation. Her guards, general, and advisers were fascinated by everything they saw, based on the chorus of oohs and aahs behind me.
When we sat at the bench, they studied the gear while I studied them. The advisors … their movements were sluggish. This told me they were really short on zinc. I messaged Gary and Razzar, asking for an update on our zinc status.
‘Perci is in the Xgate, how much zinc do we have?’ - Cap
‘A whole bunch, I think.’ - Gary
‘The miners have only been active for a few hours and we have not reached a deposit yet. In a few days, though, our stockpiles should be massive. I am aiming for zinc first.’ - Razzar
I sighed, knowing what was coming next.
Linda watched Longoria swim with the acrium.
“Why have you not traded resources for zinc?” I asked.
“That is why I am here. I need your help,” she frowned, “truth be told, I am losing support rapidly … or have already lost it. The virum debacle was more than my political prowess could handle.” She sighed. “There was a vote. We are going to send you to trade for us in the market—the Security Council think of you as our guinea pig ... or canary … I think canary works here.”
“I am normally able to follow rational behavior. This? Not so much,” I said with a grunt. “There are no hidden side effects to going into the market besides getting tired.”
