The Belt: The Complete Trilogy

by Gerald M. Kilby

  “Yeah, yeah…come on.” He gave Scott a push in the back to get him moving toward the door.

  He was taken to an area within the same building complex, though this one had a little more infrastructure. A long wooden table with a number of benches around it took up the center of the room. The room itself was sparse, save for some overhead lighting and what looked like a retinal scanner beside the main door. Three people sat on one of the benches along one side of the table. Two men and one woman, and all looked to be middle-aged. Scott recognized the central figure as Tugo, the leader of the group that had overwhelmed them in the cave. A disheveled holo-tablet sat in the middle of the table, currently projecting a 3D rendering of the local typography.

  Tugo switched it off as Scott entered. “Take a seat.” He gestured to a bench on the opposite side of the table.

  Scott sat down, and the guard that had escorted him left the room. The mood was calm, almost relaxed.

  Tugo then gestured to either side of him. “This is Esa, and this is Adsa, and what all three of us would like to know is what the hell you guys are doing so far from home.”

  “What have you done with the others?” Scott was keen to get straight to the point.

  “Your comrades are fine, so don’t go worrying about them,” Tugo replied with an irritated wave of the hand.

  “So where are they?” Scott persisted.

  Tugo raised a pointed finger. “We’re asking the questions here. So settle down, Commander McNabb.” He said Scott’s name like an accusation. “So,” he continued, “care to tell us what you’re doing in this neck of the woods?”

  Scott sighed. “We’re just a science team.”

  “Doing what, exactly?” The woman on the left, Esa, leaned back as she spoke.

  “We’re collecting data on the biology of the region, studying how lifeforms develop in a high-radiation environment.”

  “So, you’re an off-world science team searching for signs of life on Earth. Any idea how ridiculous that sounds?” They started laughing.

  “That’s not what I said.” Scott was beginning to get irritated. “Knowing how plants behave in an irradiated environment is very useful in terms of crop production on planets without a magnetosphere.”

  Tugo grunted. “Perhaps. But here’s the thing: it’s complete bullshit, isn’t it?”

  Scott stayed silent.

  “There’s no record of a science team operating in this region.” Adsa had taken up the baton now. “So, whatever it was you guys were up to, you had no authorization. That’s why that drone was sent in.”

  “Like I said, we’re just collecting data,” Scott finally said.

  Tugo sat back and considered Scott for a moment. “So why did you shoot it down?”

  Scott sighed again. “That was a mistake.”

  “Damn right it was.” Adsa leaned across the table as if he was about to attack Scott.

  Tugo placed a hand on Adsa’s shoulder and gently pulled him back. He sat down again.

  “Hey, I agree—it was stupid. Jonesy…he got spooked. Started taking potshots at it, and somehow he managed to hit it.” Scott shook his head.

  “You have no idea, do you,” said Esa, “about what you started by shooting down that drone.”

  “Well, it did seem to take it rather badly, since it sent a load of its buddies after us.”

  “We know all about that.” Tugo leaned in again. “Here’s the thing, Commander: those security drones don’t give up. They’re still out there, and they’re going to hunt you down for as long as it takes.” He sat back. “If not for us, you and your team would all be dead. So why don’t you cut the crap and tell us what a bunch of off-worlders are doing poking around in the Wasteland?”

  “I keep telling you, we’re a science team.”

  Tugo sighed.

  “So where are you from? Who’s funding this…science mission?” Esa asked.

  “It’s an expedition co-funded by the Belt and Mars.”

  “Since when did the Belt and Mars become such good buddies?” she asked with a vague sneer.

  Scott just shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows.”

  “There’s no way the algo would allow any kind of off-world expedition down here, so we know you’re talking crap. There’s no point in trying to convince us otherwise,” said Adsa.

  “The algo… What’s that?” Scott was genuinely unsure of what this meant.

  “The algorithm. It’s the AI that controls everything here,” Adsa continued. “There’s no way it would sanction such a mission.”

  Scott realized that they were no experts in interrogation. He could keep his story up all day long and they would never find a way through. But who were these people? They clearly knew the area intimately, as well as the machinations of the “algorithm,” as they called it. The risk for Scott, of course, was he knew very little about who they were and, more importantly, what they stood for, if anything. So, could he trust them with the truth? Yet if Scott had any hope of achieving the mission objective, then they could potentially be of enormous help.

  “Look, we can go on and on like this forever. But it’s still going to be the same answer. And while we appreciate you getting us out of a jam back in the cave system, I really don’t appreciate being incarcerated and prevented from continuing with our mission. So why don’t we all just shake hands and we can go on our merry way?”

  “Two reasons why that’s not going to happen,” said Tugo. “One, you guys wouldn’t survive for more than ten minutes outside in the Wasteland. The drones would find you, and you would all die in a hailstorm of laser fire.” He leaned forward and gestured with his hands. “Not that we really care that much if you live or die, but what we do not like is the increased drone activity that this scenario would lead to. Which brings me to the second reason.

  “You have brought yourselves to the attention of the algorithm, and it is not going to be satisfied by simply killing you all. Like us, it wants to know what you’re doing here. And let’s be clear: it knows you’re not here to collect data on creosote bushes and tumbleweeds.

  “If you were to venture outside again, the algo would be sniffing your charred remains to glean any bit of data it could, and data is what it feeds on—it has an insatiable appetite for data. Now that you’ve managed to move it up to operating on a security protocol, it’ll leave no stone unturned to figure out what you lot were doing here.”

  He gestured to his associates. “Our hope is that by holding you here, the algo will be satisfied that you all died in the explosion at the mine entrance and will scale down its operations. But this is looking increasingly unlikely. New drones have already entered the territory, adding to the search.

  “This puts our future here in a difficult position, Commander McNabb. For a great many years, we have lived and prospered in this subterranean city, completely hidden from the gaze of the algorithm. We have our ways of avoiding detection by the scout drones that regularly fly over this region. But security drones are a different thing entirely, particularly ones that are hell-bent on finding answers.

  “You see, we live off-grid as free people. And to be off-grid—not connected to the data networks, and by extension the algorithm—is illegal, punishable by death. So, Commander McNabb, what you and your team of bozos have instigated means that we are now in a fight for our very survival.”

  Tugo sat back, almost slumping into the seat as he did. His mood was sanguine, also reflected in the body language of his associates. To Scott, he had the look of someone who was facing a difficult task and, in that sense, Scott could empathize with their predicament. If only we had stayed with the shuttle, Scott told himself. Maybe things would have been different.

  “There was a shuttle that we came down in.” Scott’s voice was low and solemn. “It was damaged during the flight through the electrical storm. We had to abandon it, and the pilot was left to try to fix it. Do you know if it’s still there?”

  Esa shook her head. “Sorry, they came for it.
A VanHeilding shuttle landed a short time ago with a number of security personnel. There was a shootout. Your pilot survived, but she has been taken prisoner by them, no doubt for interrogation.”

  Scott lowered his head. “Shit.”

  Again, Esa shook her head. “Whatever your pilot knows, then we have to assume that the algorithm will soon know, too. So, we would really like to find out what we’re up against here.”

  It was as Scott feared: even though Kyah Razzo didn’t know the true nature of the mission, it wouldn’t take the algorithm long to figure it out. There was no other option now in Scott’s mind but to come clean with this group, tell them about their plan to integrate Athena into the pan-solar QI network, and try to get their help in accomplishing it.

  But first he needed to talk to the rest of the team, make sure they were all okay, and that they all agreed to this course of action. He leaned in again and rested his arms on the table. “Let me see my team first, then we can talk again. There may be a way out of this for both of us.”

  None of them said anything for a moment; they simply sat passively and considered him. Finally, Tugo sat forward. “Very well then. But no more bullshit.”

  Scott nodded.

  Esa tapped her earpiece and spoke in a language that Scott didn’t recognize. A few moments later, the guard entered and they all rose. Just as Scott was about to follow the guard out, Tugo came around from the other side of the table and looked him in the eye. “Just so you know, time is not on our side. So, if you have something, we want to hear it sooner rather than later.”

  Scott nodded and followed the guard out of the room.

  9

  The Council

  Scott was relieved to find all the others waiting for him when he returned to the holding cell. They had all been interrogated, in one form or another, by different members of the tribe. But none had revealed the true nature of the mission. They had stuck to the line that they were a scientific mission collecting data on the biology of the region. Even Spinner, to his credit, stuck to the script. Yet their collective mood became somber when Scott broke the news that the shuttle had been commandeered and the pilot, Kyah Razzo, taken by VanHeilding personnel.

  “The way I see it,” said Scott, after their initial discussions had subsided, “is that we need to persuade these people to help us. It’s the only way we can salvage this mission now.”

  “While I get the impression they don’t want to do us any physical harm,” said Cyrus, “actually helping us might be asking too much.”

  “We don’t even know anything about them,” said Steph. “We don’t who they are, where they came from, or what their ideology might be.”

  “One thing is for certain: they don’t like AI, or the ‘algorithm’ that they keep going on about. Which puts us both on the same page. So, I say we come clean and tell them that our mission is to subvert the algorithm. They have to buy into that.”

  “Maybe,” said Cyrus.

  “It’s also pretty obvious that they know every nook and cranny in these mountains. If there’s a way into that facility, then they’ll know it. I’m certain of that.”

  “But it’s risky,” said Cyrus. “If word gets out that a pan-solar alliance is trying to undermine Earth-based AI, then everything goes into lockdown. It’ll be extremely difficult to get anywhere near any QI here on Earth after that.”

  “They probably already know, now that they have Razzo,” said Scott.

  “In that case, I don’t see that we have any other option,” said Steph.

  “And what if they don’t help us?” said Spinner. “What happens then? Are we stuck here forever, with no way off the planet? Living like troglodytes?”

  “We could always try to escape,” said Cyrus. “They have fairly primitive technology here; they’re not that sophisticated. We would still need to get our EVA suits back, and the mule with the quantum device. But I don’t figure it would be too difficult to sneak out of here, considering I can see in the dark and they can’t.”

  “And then what?” said Steph. “We wander around in the caves like we did before?”

  “There’s got to be a way out,” said Cyrus.

  “Okay, Cyrus, I hear you. But let’s call that Plan B for the moment,” said Scott. “My gut feeling is that no matter what way we slice and dice this, the best option is to get them working for us, helping us get into that facility. However, if we are going to persuade them, then we’ll have to give them the full story. We’re here to undermine the algorithm—that should be music to their ears.”

  Eventually, after some further back and forth, they all agreed to take the risk of exposing the mission plan to the tribe. It was their only real option. So, after a few minutes of Scott banging on the inside of the door and hollering for some attention, a guard finally came and opened it.

  “Tell Tugo that we’re ready to talk turkey.”

  The guard was sullen, like he had been disturbed during some more important task. He replied with an imperceptible nod, and pushed Scott back inside as he closed the door and it locked again. They waited. It didn’t take long; less than ten minutes later, the door swung open, and Tugo entered flanked by four guards. He gestured to them. “Let’s go.”

  They were brought to the same room that Scott had been interrogated in earlier, but this time there were at least a dozen people waiting for them. The room felt crowded. A bench was moved against the back wall, and they were instructed to take a seat. In front of them, around a dozen or so members of the tribe sat on three sides of a long wooden table. It reminded Scott of the painting he once saw of The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci.

  The previous time he had been here, he hadn’t taken much notice of the room. Now though, he could see that it was more ornate than he had first realized. The walls were made of cut stone in a complex, geometric pattern. Above the doors and windows, the sills were engraved with strange symbols and decorative flourishes. The floor was an intricately patterned mosaic, worn and dusty.

  The group jostled and murmured as they organized themselves on one side of the table. There was a mix of both men and women, and all seemed to be of a similar age—not old, but not young, either. They had a similar look, too: thin, sinewy, their faces almost gaunt, and a pallid complexion, presumably as a result of living underground in the absence of natural sunlight. Their clothes were old and worn, patched and repaired several times over, their shoes a mix of repaired boots with soles made from the recycled tires of antique wheeled vehicles.

  Scott tried to gauge the hierarchy of this group by the way they were arranged around the table, but it was hard to tell. Tugo sat three from the center, and Scott wondered if the power structure radiated out from the central pair, with the least important people at the end of the table. It might have seemed like a minor observation, but in Scott’s mind it was important that he could identify the leader of the group. This would be the person he ultimately needed to persuade.

  Eventually, after much shuffling and sorting, a hand was raised by an older woman who sat at the very edge of the group. The others fell silent as she turned to Scott and the crew. “I am Padooa. We are ready. You may begin.”

  This threw Scott a bit. Was she the leader, or was it someone else? Then a thought struck him: maybe they didn’t have a single leader. Perhaps they were a collective of some kind. Even so, one or two of these people must have been the primary influencers—but who? But he was wasting time thinking about it, so he began.

  For twenty minutes, Scott explained their mission: how it had come to be, and what was at stake. He talked about how ever since inter-AI communication had been reestablished on Earth, the planet had descended into war and chaos and that entropy was now cascading across the entire solar system. Warships from The Seven, the major corporation that controlled Earth, were already massing on the frontier of the Belt, waiting for an opportunity to take control of its resources, and in the process, subjugate the populace to the jackboot of the algorithm. He found himself using the t
erm “algorithm” more and more, as each time he did he could see a reaction in many of the council members. This was their enemy—this was what they feared. It cut to their very hearts.

  He talked of Mars, and how it too was under threat. Not even its wealth and resources could hold back a determined onslaught from Earth. As he talked, Scott had the feeling that they were not aware of any of these developments. Their worldview was limited to this cave system, its surroundings, and a vague understanding of the politics of the broader world. Some shook their heads as he spoke, others nodded, but all were engaged by his narrative.

  So, he pressed ahead, explaining that the only thing preventing all-out war in the Belt was the influence and intervention of the QIs, a network of quantum intelligences comprised of Aria on Mars, Minerva on Ceres, and the great Solomon on Europa. There were others, but these three constituted the main bulwark against the advance of the algorithm, and the total domination of the System by The Seven.

  Soon he began to notice the mood and body language of the council changing again. Much as they loathed the pervasive hegemony of the algorithm, they seemed to regard the QI with even greater suspicion and a barely concealed disdain. Nevertheless, Scott was in deep, and he had no option but to continue.

  He explained the uncanny ability of a quantum intelligence to manipulate the preprogrammed objectives of an AI. In essence, they had the ability to reorient the algorithm. This was how they prevented the warships of The Seven from instigating an attack on the Belt. But they could only perform this feat in real time, where data transfer rates were high. They also had the problem of coordinating their efforts across the enormous time lags that bedeviled communication throughout the vast distances of the solar system.

  Scott saw that they were now becoming interested; they were leaning in across the table more, focusing on his story. He proceeded to tell them about the superluminal quantum communication device, how it came to be, how it was lost and then found, and ultimately, how it could only be utilized by a quantum computer.