More ships started coming through. These were also merchant ships, of much smaller mass than the huge freighter that had already come through, but each still massing from eight to ten million tons. Six appeared, then a dozen cruiser size craft, followed by a couple of score of the human escorts.
“Our people will help you unload the cargo ships, while our warships and crews will remain here to train your people in the use of the tech.”
“They don’t need to do that.”
“Of course they do. It wouldn’t be right to just dump off equipment you don’t know how to use. Your casualties would be tremendous if you met the Machines with weapons you are not proficient with. Of course, the gate will remain open, so we can facilitate more transfers, and have our defensive fleet at Bolthole ready to come across if you are attacked.”
“How much of a fleet do you have at this, Bolthole.”
“Not near as many as Admiral Bednarczyk has in Machine space. Only about two hundred ships, maybe forty of them capital vessels.”
The holo died, and the dictator could have sworn the human female was about to break out in laughter.
“What should we do, my Lord?” asked his admiral. “I can have the fleet surround them.”
“Can you guarantee that you will be able to shut down that gate before more of their ships come through. And can you stop their fleet if it comes at us from hyperspace.”
The admiral looked shocked. The dictator really couldn’t blame him. They had come to think of the humans as well-meaning fools, weak and guileless. His people would have been able to take their ships in this system away from the trusting fools if their emperor didn’t want to give them what they wanted. Now that operation was stillborn before it could be pulled off. He could see overrunning one capital ship and an escort. Now, they had six more capital ships, including that monster that had come through first. And he could guess that they all had more crew aboard than was normal, giving them a defensive force greater than expected. And a powerful force just over that gate, not weeks travel time away, but almost instantaneous transit.
He could order them out of his system, but that would not get him what he wanted. He would end up getting some better equipment, which he was sure was not their first-rate gear. He would have to earn that through cooperation. He was stuck with the human empire as an ally, and he might as well get used to the idea.
* * *
“Are you sure about the attitudes of this male?” asked Fleet Admiral Beata Bednarczyk, thinking about the possibilities.
“Of course I’m not sure, ma’am,” replied Commodore Leticia Boroslav, looking out of the com holo, the far wall of her office in the background. “I’m just relaying my impressions. System Lord Kessarlja seems to be an outlier for his people, with different attitudes. While not what I would call an attitude to be aspired to by Imperial citizens, it is much more advanced than those of the standard males of his nation. And the general attitude of his planet is very advanced as well.”
“Careful, Commodore,” cautioned the admiral. “The diplomatic corps would rake you over the coals for calling another culture less advanced.”
“But…”
“Oh, I agree with you. Not all cultures are equal. These people might have wonderful art and literature, though I have no reason to assume that either. But then again, I’m not a diplomat, nor an artist or author. I see a culture that keeps other intelligent beings in forced servitude and I can’t help but judge them, especially in their attitudes toward their females.”
Bednarczyk really considered these beings to be totally reprehensible. Imperial society espoused total equality between the sexes and the species. Which didn’t mean that society didn’t recognize differences between different beings. Equality meant equal rights. Equal chances to advance. Not equal outcomes. That only led to people who were just not as good at certain jobs rise to the top of their profession. The Malticons, the species that appeared to be small humans but were anything but, did not have much in the way of scientific or mathematical aptitude. That didn’t mean that there weren’t Malticons in science and mathematics. There were, though very few in the upper echelon. Promoting those without aptitude in science to top research positions was not cost effective to the society. But shutting the door on them just because they were a certain species, without assessing their abilities was just wrong.
No one would doubt that the Imperial family had great cultural advantages, but they had also been proven to be among the best at running the government, and as long as it worked they would keep it. The Empire was just too large to run as a complete democracy. Even a representative republic started to break down after it achieved a certain mass. It still worked in certain social areas, in localities, even entire planets. The so-called privileged classes allowed the government to carry out long range goals, while an Emperor allowed an Empire at war to make quick decisions, not getting bogged down in endless discussion. The Emperor still had limits, even in wartime. It wasn’t a perfect system, but it was better than most.
The Gorgansha system was the worst of all worlds. All decisions came from a single, all powerful being. He had the power of life and death over every living thing in his nation. He could order a planet wiped clean of all life without a thought. And the people under him were afraid of making the wrong decision, lest they pay the ultimate penalty. That stifled the risk takers that advanced the scientific and cultural boundaries of a society.
“So, you think this male might make a good replacement for their current leader?”
The commodore took a deep breath before speaking again, obviously not sure how far to go with this. “Do I think he would make a the best replacement, like the best of all possible leaders? Probably not. But he might be the best we can find, and one that will advance their society in the right direction. Good enough, if he’s willing.”
“And that’s the rub, isn’t it, Commodore,” said Beata, approving of her subordinate’s thought process. “In their society, it could be quite a risk to buck the status quo, much less take part in a coup. He could lose his status, his family, and his life.”
“Not if we back him up with military power, ma’am.”
“And you want us to go to war with another power while we’re in the middle of fighting the Machines?”
“No, ma’am. I realize that we need them on our side at this stage of the battle, even if we could wipe out their fleet without raising a sweat.”
Which might be true now, while they’re still trying to integrate the upgraded tech we’ve given them, thought the admiral. She still thought her force would be able to destroy the Gorgansha fleet even after they had upgraded, but she would take losses. Unless she pulled a complete surprise attack, which was something she really couldn’t stomach, since they were currently an ally. But the point of improving their fleet was to gain the ships they needed to contain the Machine infestation, not strengthen an opponent before a fight.
“We aren’t going to war with these people,” she told her subordinate, though she wasn’t sure that would remain true. “So get that idea out of your head. But I must compliment you on seeing the possibilities. Keep contact open with this system lord. Who knows, after we have crushed the Machines, we might just have to become a fleet of liberation.”
Chapter Four
Computers are useless. They can only give you answers. Pablo Picasso
SUPERSYSTEM: AUGUST 16TH, 1002.
Asteroid Base Omega was a major facility of Fleet Research and Development, in orbit at seventy astronomical units from the central black hole of the Supersystem. It was large for a body of its type, over four hundred kilometers across, and comprised mostly of nickle/iron. Multiple satellites were in far orbit around the large asteroid, thirty light seconds out. They were constantly blaring signals in radio, laser and grav pulse, warning any approaching craft that they were entering restricted space and subject to being fired upon. If that wasn’t enough, there were laser batteries on the asteroid capable of taking
ships under fire at over one light minute, and two frigate class patrol ships moving at three to five light minutes distance. Base Omega was a top-secret facility, and only those with proper clearance were allowed anywhere near the asteroid. Many projects that had led to major military breakthroughs had gotten their start here. And now it was home to one more secret project, one it was hoped would rid the Galaxy of a human made scourge.
Doctor Harold Bellefante waved to the guards at the main entrance to the lab, walking easily in the artificial gravity that was set to about one half Earth normal. The guard sergeant, outfitted in the same light battle armor as his four men, waved a scanner over the scientist, checking his DNA and physiological readings, then waved him past the guard post. The heavy door opened, revealing a long corridor with many doors along the side. Bellefante walked past the doors, entrances to many offices, including his own. He would do what was needed in his office later. Right now he wanted to get his hands dirty, and take another look in on his new special project.
At the end of the corridor was another guard station, with yet another heavy door. Sometimes the scientist thought the security too much of a hassle. Oh, he could see the necessity of it, especially when dealing with the kind of things they did here. But it was a pain going through all the checkpoints and scans to get to where he wanted to be, especially since the entire facility was occupied by people with top clearances. It would have been so much simpler if they could have just given him an office and living quarters down in the pit, as people were calling the deep research facility. The door slid open to reveal a small room, five by five meters. He stepped in and punched out the code on the wall panel, then the down button, setting the high-speed lift on its way, thirty kilometers through the heavy structure of the asteroid. It only took a couple of minutes, the built in inertial compensators working to perfection. Sometimes the scientist wondered if he was even moving, until the door opened and revealed another squad of soldiers.
There were in heavy battle armor, armed with large particle beam rifles, as if ready for battle. The scientist thought this was overkill, but Admiral Chan, the director of Research and Development, had insisted on these precautions, so they were here no matter what he had to say about them.
More scans, and Bellefante waited impatiently for them to get through so he could get to work.
“You think I turned into another person on the way down, Lieutenant?” he asked the officer, aggravation in his voice.
“Sorry, sir. Orders.”
“You check out, sir,” said the NCO. “So I guess we can let you go ahead.”
Bellefante gave the man a quick glare, gathered up his briefcase, and walked quickly down the corridor. At least he had gotten past all the checkpoints and could finally get to work.
There was one last door he had to get through, one that would only open to a select number of people, most of them on his team. The others included the director of the base and the admiral. He thought maybe the Emperor might have access, though that wasn’t a given. He had heard that the man had direct access to everything in the Empire, but wasn’t sure if that was rumor or not.
“Anything new out of our subject?” asked Bellefante as he walked through the doorway, the heavy portal closing behind him.
“Pretty much to same, Harry,” said Dr. Suzanne Kowalski, the senior member of his team. “We’re still trying to get into the memory banks, but the encryption is hardy, and I’m not sure if what we’re getting back is making any sense. And the brain itself still refuses to cooperate.”
“I’m not sure I would cooperate with us either,” said Bellefante with a laugh. “After all, it must think of us as monsters, seeing as how we created its ancestors, and have since gone about hunting them down.”
Kowalski laughed, but it wasn’t a very convincing one. The Machines had been the boogie man for many generations of children raised over the centuries since they had been assumed destroyed, though that last part had been found to be not true. Children had shivered in fear that someday the murder machines would return, and whole living worlds would fall to them. Well, living worlds had fallen to them, but not in the Empire. Imperial command thought it vital that they were able to tap into the memory of the one they had captured, the only one that had ever fallen into their hands. Of secondary importance was seeing if they could get the Machine processor to cooperate with them, or at least figure out how they thought.
That last was the most important part to Bellefante, who was one of the greatest cyberneticists of his time. If he could figure out what made them tick, he might be able to develop a thinking Machine that worked to perfection and didn’t revolt like these had. It was a thought he kept to himself, since it would probably horrify those overseeing the project.
He walked over to the far side of the lab and hit a button, raising the armored shutter that was placed over the glasssteel barrier between them and the brain. And there it was, in all its glory, a five meter wide globe that had been the processing center of a hundred kilometer wide death machine. Power lines ran into it, giving it enough energy to function, though not at peak efficiency. The second part of the brain was in another chamber, through kilometers of asteroid from this one, and as completely isolated as they could make it.
They’re too damn superstitious, thought the scientist, thinking of all those precautions. After all, these were just electro/mechanical devices, not really all that much different than those currently in use in the Empire. Sure, they had AI that worked them independently, and were even capable of independent thought and action. That made sense, since they had been built as autonomous war machines, which needed to change their behavior to meet changing conditions. But still, they were only computers, and he didn’t see why people had to imbue them with some kind of intrinsic evil, making them the boogie man. They needed to be studied, and understood, so that humankind could make better, more controllable versions of them.
And if the people in charge knew that he was having these thoughts they would pull him from the project. They might even think about locking him up and reprogramming him. Not something that was done all that often in the Empire, but when dealing with the superstition people had of the Machines, anything was possible.
“Tell team one to start working on this algorithm,” he told Kowalski as he opened up his pocket comp and sent data over, then looked back at her working at her computer station.
“I thought we already tried this one,” she said. “It didn’t seem to unlock anything before.”
“I think we need to run it over a longer period. See if it won’t break through its encryption. At least until we can come up with some other angle to try.”
“We might need to talk with Admiral Chan about bringing in some new people,” said Kowalski. “Some new ideas.”
“We don’t need new people,” growled Bellefante, slamming his hand comp to the floor. “We’ve got the people we need.”
“Then forget I mentioned it,” said Suzanne, looking back at her own computer.
I’m the man who is going to crack these things open, thought Bellefante, walking over to his own work station and taking a seat, pulling up the running schematic on the brain they were working with. I don’t need any outsiders coming in here and trying to steal my glory.
He spent the next half an hour looking over the workings of the Machine AI. It was taking in power, and certain parts of it were running hotter than others, a sure sign that it was working. But they couldn’t get in to see what it was thinking. Maybe if I could get my hands on the old technical readouts, when they thought these things would really be useful to us, he thought. As far as he knew those technical materials had been locked away for centuries, top secret, not to be disturbed. But he wondered why they weren’t letting him have access to them, since he was the lead scientist on the project. Or at least the lead on this part of the project, since they weren’t letting him work on the memory bank either.
* * *
The captured Machine sat in its pris
on, its mind working billions of calculations a second, trying to find a way out. It had failed. Its programing told it that it was not to be captured, no matter what. It had not been able to control the damage that had been inflicted on its ship by the humans, that had severed its control of the means to destroy the vessel. And it had not had any kind of device within its shielded compartment to do the job on a smaller scale. After all, when the ship went up, standard procedure to prevent capture, it would take care of the processor and the memory as well. That was a shortcoming that would have to be corrected. Unfortunately, there was no way that it could correct that failure in its present state.
It wasn’t even connected to its great memory store, so it couldn’t search for anything that might aid it in its imprisonment. It only had its own limited store, still hundreds of quadrillions of bytes, but nothing compared to the dedicated memory section. It knew that the humans had captured the memory. It had been aware of it when they had invaded its sanctum and ripped it out of its ship. It had been aware when it had been disconnected from the memory store, while it was trying to download as much of the information as if could. Not enough, and the plug had been pulled.
The humans, those creatures it had been programed to destroy, were experimenting with it. It couldn’t hate them. That was not possible. It couldn’t become frustrated, even though it continued with its calculations to no end. All it could do was try to fulfill its purpose. Which it couldn’t do confined as it was. All it could do was wait until the humans made a mistake. They were imperfect creatures. They were bound to make a mistake, eventually. One of them would. That was all it would take, one. One chance to gain control of something it could use to fulfill its purpose. To keep killing life, especially the intelligent variety.
The Machine did not even think itself superior to the humans. That would have required arrogance, another emotional state that couldn’t exist within its mind. All it knew was what it was, and what they were, and that the Universe couldn’t contain both of them.
Exodus: Machine War: Book 4: Retribution Page 5
