Exploration (Galactic Neighborhood Book 3)

by Alexander Elliott

  “Please continue, Mr. Young. I will hold my questions and comments until you are finished.”

  “Thank you, General. The biggest hurdle we have is making sure our EMR’s cannot become dangerous rogue ‘super soldiers’. In order to get the most use out of them, their AI’s will have to skirt awfully close to sentience. The Vingah have succeeded in creating something very close to it in the AI’s we use for buoys and Sentinels.”

  “On the other hand, they were instrumental in making modifications to your brain, General, so they also have a clear notion of where the line is crossed. I have some ideas of my own, of course, but without direct access to their methods I can’t move forward. I believe it is possible to create a functional and flexible AI which will do everything we need, while still preventing sentience or going rogue.”

  Moreland was pleased Young actually voiced what would be the two most obvious objections to their proposal. By treaty agreement, members of the Alliance were forbidden to create an AI which could grow beyond its original programming and achieve sentience. Of course, the only reason General Aaron Moreland even existed was because his former self, known as Mosis, did exactly that on the five-hundred-year journey from Earth.

  The problem of going rogue was an equally dangerous situation which could never be allowed. Any creation of great power and flexibility must be designed with unbreachable control barriers in place. The ability to guarantee such barriers would be difficult at best, though Moreland was confident Vingah scientists would have an excellent chance of succeeding. He suddenly realized his attention wandered for a few moments, and his guests were waiting patiently for him to respond.

  “Excuse me. Your proposal has provoked a great deal of thought, and I cannot help but consider some of the implications. Your presentation was both concise and well considered, and I congratulate you for a creative and ambitious plan. How, specifically, may I be of help to you?”

  Encouraged by the General’s positive response, Cole jumped back into the conversation.

  “As you know, Sir, the official schematics for much of our technology is restricted. Based on what we could find out for ourselves, we think we can squeeze all the necessary components into a size and shape which would fit within the average dimensions of a human body. What we need is to be able to consult with Vingah engineers to see if we can reduce the size and increase the power output for the EMR core. Bax also needs to discuss his proposed modifications with the artificial intelligence team. We were also hoping you would be willing to arrange meetings for us with the right people on Khrusallis.”

  Moreland smiled and leaned forward when he spoke.

  “Your requests are reasonable, and I believe I have exactly the right people in mind to help you. Before we go further, I want to see a formal proposal which includes all your research, conclusions, and recommendations. I would like an opportunity to think carefully about this idea and confer with a few of my colleagues. In the meantime, I believe it would be best if you kept the entire project confidential.”

  Moreland stood, followed by his guests. Before they moved towards the door, Bax reached into his pocket and produced a data chip, which he handed to Moreland.

  “We already prepared the proposal for you, General, to save a little time. Our presentation is due in twelve weeks, and we still have a lot to do.”

  Moreland accepted it with a wry smile and then shook both their hands.

  “I am very impressed, gentlemen. Expect to hear from me before the week is out.”

  ####

  Earth orbit, Sol system. Present day.

  Like a misplaced top hat, the space station, Guardian, circled in geostationary orbit above Earth’s north pole. At first glance it looked neither impressive nor important. In this case, looks were deceiving, since Guardian was not only a space station, but the control center for a vast security system. A portion of its bulk was a large shipyard, placed there to service PSF, research, or restoration vessels. It would have been much larger if new ships were being constructed there, but such work was being done at the Victory space facility in orbit around Pollux, one of Pacifica’s moons.

  Guardian also provided housing for the Pacifica Space Fleet, station staff, and rotating research personnel. Though it could hold over two hundred, it had never been filled to capacity. Most of the people who came here were housed on board their respective vessels, and only came calling when they desired a bit of ‘shore leave’. There were several places to eat, drink or shop, but unless you lived on Guardian full time, there wasn’t much demand for services.

  The laid-back atmosphere surrounding the station belied its true importance as the security center of the Sol system. Here was where all information was collected and interpreted. Here was the control center for the complex framework of buoys and Sentinels which watched over them like a mother hen. Here was where any attack by outside forces would be detected and a response coordinated. Here was where every ship entering or leaving the system would be given permission to stay or depart.

  Almost seventy years passed since Earth was destroyed by an enemy fleet. Thirty years later, colonists from Pacifica returned to Earth and made the grisly discovery. Since then, human presence and activity in the Sol system grew steadily. It was only possible, however, because of all the security precautions which were instituted as soon as Pacifica could spare the resources and personnel to look after it.

  Some five months ago, Guardian experienced a change of command when a new C.O., General Dana McClure, was assigned to take over the position. McClure’s original posting was Chief Engineer aboard the starship Expedition, having made the almost five-hundred-year journey from Earth. After Expedition established a colony on Pacifica, McClure remained with the ship until the PSF Academy was founded.

  For over thirty years he served as a professor, and then department head, for Engineering Sciences. Though his tenure there was enjoyable, he came to the conclusion what he really needed was a change of pace. When the command position for Guardian opened up, he immediately tossed his name in the hat. Admiral Christopher Perry, his old Captain and now the Commandant of the PSF, accepted his resignation and offered him the position the same day.

  McClure was blessed with a competent, hard working staff who easily accepted his leadership. There was one thing, however, which did not endear him to the Sol system personnel – drills. Dana McClure believed in regular, unannounced practice drills. His second day on the job became a logistical nightmare when he declared a level one emergency. With alarms blaring in the middle of the night, it took a full twenty minutes before all stations showed green on the board. That was seventeen minutes too long, and McClure resolutely called for one drill after another until every critical department reported in as staffed and ready in under three minutes.

  In the end, it took some creative shuffling of assigned quarters and the installation of emergency work stations to remove the physical barriers which slowed down response times. Everyone knew it was for their own good, and they also knew McClure included himself in his own drills. All of which allowed them to overlook this particular quirk and give him the benefit of the doubt.

  His office was adjacent to the Command Center, which was housed at the well-protected core of the station. Unfortunately, his assigned quarters were entirely too far away to be even remotely practical. After showing up late for the first drill, he decided to convert a seldom used conference room, which was just across the hall from his office, into his new quarters. They weren’t as lavish or spacious, but those considerations were of little importance. Now, he could be at his station in as little as fifteen seconds if the need arose.

  At the moment, McClure was installed in his office, looking over the most recent system status reports. There were several to read, so he began with the restoration project. The work was progressing according to plan, though there was no firm timetable. It would take a very long time to reverse enough damage to make the planet livable again. Even so, such a thing had never been attemp
ted, and every time they made a bit of progress in one area, another issue popped up somewhere else. McClure made it a point to spend time with the science teams from time to time and get caught up on what they were doing. Some of their more technical projects needed to be explained in layman’s terms, for his benefit, but the scientists seemed to appreciate his continued interest and support.

  Until recently, the restoration was focused on a limited set of tasks. Atmospheric dust and pollution were now significantly lower, the enormous ice sheets covering most of the surface were broken up to speed melting, and much of the man-made detritus left behind was cleared away. There were at least a hundred powerful Sentinels laboring night and day at any given time, and still the work continued.

  Three areas of concern were now at the forefront of research and study: seismic activity, water detoxification, and weather control. The planet’s crust was shattered, leaving the once familiar continents almost unrecognizable and seismically and volcanically active. Every water source remained contaminated at dangerous levels, leaving the Earth saturated in a toxic soup. Weather patterns were unpredictable, often violent, and incredibly destructive.

  From every measurable angle, the planet was still a dangerous mess, and there was no point in reintroducing plant and animal life until it had a fighting chance to survive. Simply visiting the surface required an enviro suit and accompaniment by buoys, ready to whisk fragile humans to safety at a moment’s notice. McClure highly respected the teams who toiled in relative obscurity to bring the Earth back to a healthy and prosperous state. The task may take another hundred years, or longer, yet no one doubted it could be done.

  If he ever needed a reminder why he and the others were stationed here, all it took was a single glance at the struggling planet which he used to call home. The heartless enemy who nearly wiped out humanity was still out there somewhere, and Dana McClure wanted very much to help secure the galaxy against any future threats.

  To that end, the Sol system was an oft-used training ground for new cadets and officers fresh out of the PSF Academy. Training missions, battle drills, and new ship shake-downs were all common place out here, and McClure was intimately involved in the coordination and scheduling of such events. Often, he was tasked with evaluating performances or introducing simulations which tested the skill of new crews or battle groups.

  It was all to the good as far as he was concerned, since officer and crew alike needed to be prepared for anything the universe threw at them. Mankind already discovered life forms out here with little regard for enlightened discourse or the peaceful sharing of resources. The PSF was committed to protecting the Alliance against all threats, by any means necessary, and men like McClure committed their lives to the cause.

  According to the latest download, the General was to expect a new battle division of fifty vessels within the next few days. Newly formed, and staffed with a large number of inexperienced officers and crew, they were scheduled to remain in the Sol system for several months. Their future posting was Deviri, home of the Odyssey colony and the indigenous Rxyl. In the decade or so since Pacifica came to their rescue, the planet made great strides towards its own restoration, having been stripped to bedrock by an unknown alien race. Their population base was still quite low, however, so they lacked adequate officers and crew to form their own Navy.

  The new battle division would help bolster their forces and free up much needed personnel for other tasks. McClure was looking forward to working with the groups’ commanding officers, and already had a number of training sims in mind which might smooth out some of their rough edges and help them coordinate with precision. Some of the newbies wouldn’t like him very well as a result, but he was prepared to withstand their vexation in order to improve performance. If he could prevent it, no one under his watch would be left unprepared in the face of a hostile situation.

  McClure signed off on the two status reports which were finished, with three more to go. He paused to refresh his coffee cup and finish the gooey cinnamon roll his assistant left on the corner of his desk. Ensign Hunter Prescott was hand picked by Admiral Perry to serve as McClure’s administrative aid. He was a fresh-faced twenty-one year old with a sharp mind, big heart, and a good sense of humor.

  The man was not only efficient and organized, he also possessed a talent for keeping the hounds at bay when the General needed time to think. Surprisingly, he also had some creative ideas when it came to training sims and drills, and several of his suggestions were already being used with encouraging results. In just a few short months, Prescott became indispensable, and McClure wondered how he ever got along without him.

  Seated once more behind his desk, McClure was eager to read the next report on general security and the allocation of resources. Both the inner and outer systems around Sol were heavily seeded with ships, buoys and Sentinels, working together to explore, protect and defend. It was a complicated dance, requiring no small measure of finesse and fancy footwork to make it effective. Space, after all, was a great deal of wide open nothing, and the chances of missing something important, such as an enemy incursion, was always a possibility. The resources available to Guardian’s commanding officer were numerous and formidable to be sure, but they were not infallible or without limit.

  Earth’s dedicated defense fleet covered both the inner and outer system. The ships which came through for other purposes could always be called upon in an emergency, but the core defenders were the first line of defense. Unfortunately, they could only be in one place at a time, unable to cover the enormous volume of space which made up the Sol system. A partial solution involved breaking the fleet up into smaller units, but this decreased effectiveness and left the ships more vulnerable.

  In order to fill many of the gaps, the PSF employed hundreds of AI controlled units to keep watch over the system and render aid to manned vessels. These units, called Sentinels and buoys, were both the brainchild of the Vingah. One of the original Alliance members, the Vingah were an intelligent, peaceful, insectoid race who eschewed space travel altogether. Their security relied instead on the large, powerful Sentinel units, and their smaller cousins, the buoys.

  Both were AI controlled and resembled octagon shaped pillars. Each was equipped with self sustaining power supplies, mighty scanners, fold space drives, integrated comm links, and transport capabilities. Sentinels were normally assigned to planetary defense or major fleet operations, while the buoys served alongside ships as messengers or for special tasks. Utilizing fold space, they could literally be in a different place every minute of the day. Whether watching for intruders, searching for habitable planets, or mapping the quadrant for future research, Sentinels and buoys were the eyes, ears, and hands of the Alliance.

  On a regular basis, all of the mobile assets in the system were given new patterns to follow, with the goal of providing as much coverage as possible. The ‘security net’ was changed often to prevent both boredom and blind spots, and all the information gained on patrol was filtered through the central processing node on Guardian. Obviously, there were certain things all craft, manned or unmanned, would instantly report if observed. Otherwise, standing orders followed predetermined paths, and they were required to check in at regular intervals. The security net worked quite well for the most part, and McClure was confident the Sol system was as safe as they could make it.

  The next report piqued McClure’s interest, as it related to a possible permanent human presence in Sol space. At the time Earth was attacked, the moon’s base was fairly active and housed mostly scientists and researchers. Located primarily underground, it incorporated an earlier and more crudely built base. While Earth decimated, the moon as a whole survived relatively unscathed. Unfortunately, the more modern part of the base was destroyed, forcing the survivors to regroup in the older section. It was there Pacifica’s rescuers found them some thirty years later, reduced in numbers and ravaged by radiation and a severe lack of resources.

  Many proposals were offered in r
ecent years regarding use of the moon as a permanent habitat. Some believed mankind should wait until Earth’s restoration was complete before repopulating any part of the system. This idea was no longer taken seriously, since the Earth as well as the moon were now well protected. The question then became how best to use the moon to reestablish a human presence in the Sol system.

  The latest brainchild was called Snow Globe. The basic idea was to set the moon rotating on its axis, carpet the surface with sprawling cities, and then enclose the entire satellite within a protective ‘globe’ of shielding. Personally, McClure thought the idea had merit, but he favored the more practical idea of simply expanding Guardian into an enormous city in space.

  The report he was reading was a feasibility study from the Snow Globe team. They were recommending a replacement of the moon base, topped by a protective blister, as a first step in making use of the lunar real estate. Once this was done, the team needed to resolve the rotation and shielding issues before moving forward with the full concept. At the moment, McClure was being asked to sign off on their initial recommendations, which he was more than willing to do. He would not be surprised to see a construction team in lunar orbit before the month was out. Even if the Snow Globe idea did not come to fruition, a new moon base would be an excellent addition to the system, and his enthusiasm for the idea would figure prominently in his recommendation.