Battle Harem
Page 1
Battle Harem
Book One
Isaac Hooke
Copyright © 2018 by Isaac Hooke
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
www.IsaacHooke.com
Books by Isaac Hooke
Military Science Fiction
Battle Harem
Battle Harem 1
Battle Harem 2
Battle Harem 3
AI Reborn Trilogy
Refurbished
Reloaded
Rebooted
ATLAS Trilogy
(published by 47North)
ATLAS
ATLAS 2
ATLAS 3
Alien War Trilogy
Hoplite
Zeus
Titan
Argonauts
Bug Hunt
You Are Prey
Alien Empress
Quantum Predation
Robot Dust Bunnies
City of Phants
Rade’s Fury
Mechs vs. Dinosaurs
A Captain's Crucible
Flagship
Test of Mettle
Cradle of War
Planet Killer
Worlds at War
Space Opera
Star Warrior Quadrilogy
Star Warrior
Bender of Worlds
He Who Crosses Death
Doom Wielder
Science Fiction
The Forever Gate Series
The Dream
A Second Chance
The Mirror Breaks
They Have Wakened Death
I Have Seen Forever
Rebirth
Walls of Steel
The Pendulum Swings
The Last Stand
Thrillers
The Ethan Galaal Series
Clandestine
A Cold Day in Mosul
Terminal Phase
Visit IsaacHooke.com for more information.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Afterword
About the Author
Acknowledgments
In Closing
1
Jason was a little short on creds. Everyone was, given that half the world had been burned away by a gamma ray burst from a faraway star, part of an attack by an invading alien race known as the Banthar. The people of Earth had repelled those aliens fifty years ago with the help of a few brave individuals known as Mind Refurbs—essentially human minds uploaded into the bodies of state of the art war machines.
Jason was one of the lucky ones who happened to live in the western hemisphere. Africa, Europe, the Middle East, Russia, the Far East, Australia… all lost. Those continents were covered in pockets of radiation from the nuclear bombs humanity had detonated in an attempted to eradicate the aliens and their creations. See, after the Banthar mothership was destroyed, pockets of bioweapons remained roaming the surface below. Hunter killer teams were sent to destroy them, and more nukes were dropped. Needless to say, the aftereffects weren’t all that great on the environment.
While humanity had used their tech to clear the clouds of nuclear winter, the entire eastern hemisphere remained uninhabitable to this day. Rumors said there were still bioweapons living out there in the uninhabited zones, mutated bioweapons, but no one ever went there except the military anyways.
No one cared to.
Though Jason probably would be, shortly. At least, a version of him might be.
He stared at the sign above the door.
AI Worx - Put Your Mind To Work.
With a sigh, he entered.
An android was seated behind the reception desk. She was nearly identical to a human being, except for the eyes. They always had that odd, glassy quality to them. She also showed up as an android on the digital HUD that was projected over his vision, courtesy of his augmented reality glasses—part of the ID feature that ran whenever he focused on anyone. Of course, she was also way too beautiful to be human, but then again, given the advances in plastic surgery and rejuvenetics, anyone could make themselves appear as young and beautiful as they wanted—if they had the creds.
“Hello, welcome to AI Worx, how can I help you today?” the android said.
“I’m here to sell a copy of my mind,” Jason said.
She smiled widely. “I see. Have a seat, someone will be with you shortly.”
He’d only just sat down when another android entered from a back hallway. She was just as easy on the eyes as the last one.
“Hello, Jason,” the woman smiled brightly, and held out a hand.
He shook it.
“I’m Nancy,” she continued. “I’m here to guide you through the scanning process. This way, please.”
Jason got up and followed her into the back room. The pristine white walls had a clinical feel to them.
“I feel like I’m visiting the dentist or something,” he commented.
Nancy smiled. “Yes, a lot of our customers tell us that. Did you know we also offer in-home scanning? If you ever desire a change in contract terms, or want a new scan done for any reason, we can come directly to your home.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Jason said. Actually he did, but he didn’t want beautiful androids coming to his apartment. His neighbors would think he had ordered a call girl or something.
Nancy led him inside a small room that had a large, swivel-mounted optical instrument similar to the kind one might find in an optometrist’s office.
“Okay, I take it back, now it feels like I’m visiting the eye doctor.”
“We get that a lot, too,” Nancy said. She pointed at the chair in front of the optical instrument. “Have a seat.”
Jason sat down.
“So before we take the scan, I’d like you to review the digital document I’m sending,” Nancy told him.
Jason nodded. He received a document request on his HUD, and accepted. His viewer launched immediately, taking up the center of his vision.
“Basically, the document says that you waive all rights to the Mind Refurb we are going to create,” Nancy said. “Including all ownership, and right of termination. Once you sign the document, and accept the credits, the scan is ours in perpetuity. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Jason said. He was trying to read the document, but it was full of legalese, and he found himself looking up every second word on the cloud, via his augmented reality glasses. He ended up skimming it.
“I see you’ve reached the end,” Nancy said. There must have been a hidden pixel in the bottom of the document, one that linked out to somewhere on the cloud, notifying her. “Now comes the licensing phase. You can choose to license up to one hundred active copies of your mind, with the pay scale rising commensurately for each level. If—”
“I’m only licensing one copy,” Jason said. He wasn't comfortable having more than one version of himself out there, at least at the moment. If his finan
cial situation further tanked, he'd think about it. Right now, one licensed copy would give him all the money he needed for the next little while.
“You’ll receive one hundred thousand micro credits for licensing only one active copy,” Nancy said.
“That’s fine,” Jason said. He noticed how she had used the micro credit delimiter, to make it sound like he was getting a lot. In reality, he was getting a hundred credits.
Nancy nodded. “One it is. But keep in mind, even though you are licensing only one active copy of your mind, you are also allowing us to make a single backup copy, which we will keep if we ever have the need to restore your active copy for whatever reason. We have the right to create unlimited backups: every time a new backup copy is made, any previous backups will be destroyed, as per the terms of the contract.”
“Sounds good,” Jason said. He paused. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what my Mind Refurb is going to be doing?”
“Unfortunately, there is no way to tell,” Nancy said. “As you know, Mind Refurbs are integrated throughout the fabric of society. Some run corporations. Others, buses. Some Mind Refurbs we never use at all, and simply keep locked away in the archives. It varies you see, depending on the suitability of the mind to the task. There are many factors involved. I can see what your various aptitudes are after a quick scan, but there’s no guarantee you’ll be assigned to any of them. There’s also the privacy issue.”
Jason nodded. “You’re not a Mind Refurb, are you?” Refurbs could be installed into specially modified androids, like Nancy—in fact, that’s what most wealthy people did when they died these days. They could even transfer their entire wealth to the android, ensuring a comfortable inheritance. Given that, it was doubtful any Mind Refurb would end up working in a place like this. Still, he had to ask.
Nancy actually laughed at that. “No. I’m an ordinary AI core. I was never human. Nor would I want to be.”
Jason pursed his lips. “Why not?”
She smiled patiently. “Memories of my previous human frailty, of aging, of the general struggle of the human condition? I could do without all that.”
“Fair enough,” Jason said. “Then what about the military? Will I be put into a war machine?”
Nancy shrugged subtly. “If your mind proves compatible with the different operational programs run by the military, then yes, it’s possible your Mind Refurb will end up in the body of an advanced military machine.”
“I’ll be going to the uninhabited zones, won’t I?” Jason pressed.
“I must reiterate: it isn’t you,” Nancy said. “But a copy of you.”
“But it’s a copy that will have my complete memories, and personality,” Jason said. “It will think it’s me.”
“That is true,” Nancy admitted.
“So will my copy be going to the uninhabited zones?” Jason said. “Drafted by the military to explore the radioactive wastelands for alien bioweapons?”
“As I told you, I have no way of knowing that,” Nancy said. “But there is a chance, yes. So if you’re worried about that, I’d suggest you don’t sign the contract.”
“No,” Jason said. “I’ll sign. I was just curious as to what mischief my other self would get up to.” He glanced at the digital signature area. He checked off that he was allowing only one active copy of his mind to exist at any given time, and then he signed it.
“Very good,” Nancy said.
He dismissed the document as Nancy swiveled the optical instrument in front of his face. It looked like a phoropter, like the kind optometrists used to test sight. A thick half mask made of steel, it had adjustable lenses drilled through the metal where his eyes were located.
Nancy pressed the device forward until the arch between the two lenses was sitting on the bridge of his nose.
“There will be a few bright flashes,” Nancy said. “Do your best not to blink.”
The flashes came; Jason blinked involuntarily of course, but he tried to keep his eyes open between flashes. Soon his vision was marred with afterimages.
“There, it’s done,” Nancy said. Her eyes defocused as she checked the data on her own augmented reality display, one that was built into her brain. “Everything seems good. I’ll go ahead and deposit the one hundred thousand micro credits into your account.”
He slid his augmented reality glasses back on. He noticed a notification flashing in the lower right of his HUD. He enlarged it.
You’ve got money!
He tried to access his bank account: the biometric features of his augmented reality glasses scanned his eyeballs to confirm he was the account owner. A moment later he was looking at his bank transactions. There, at the top: one hundred credits.
“I got it,” Jason said.
“Of course,” Nancy said. “That’s it. I’ll escort you to the door.”
“Okay,” Jason said.
He followed Nancy out of the room, through the hall, and to the lobby.
“Thank you for choosing AI Worx,” Nancy told him. “You’ve put your mind in good hands.”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “Sure.”
He stepped through the front door, feeling for all the world like he’d just sold his soul.
2
Jason blinked.
He stared at a sky painted a sickly yellow.
He sat up. Around him, a barren yellow landscape filled the view from horizon to horizon. The surface was rocky, with no sign of any green. There were a few rock buttresses scattered at different points along that terrain, but otherwise, no real landmarks. There were no skyscrapers. No skylanes separating delivery drones from passenger vehicles. No paved streets. No pedestrians.
No civilization.
He lifted a hand toward his face, and was greeted with a forearm made of rivets and metal. His wrist and finger joints were servomotors, while metallic shafts formed the actual hand and digits.
Have I fallen asleep in virtual reality again?
He reached toward his face to rip off the AI glasses, and was relieved when he felt the familiar frame-like shape of the glasses. But when he tugged, the pair didn’t come off. He explored more with his fingers, and realized the frame was thicker than the usual pair of AI glasses, more like a visor.
And it was attached firmly to his head.
The hell?
Well, he had a HUD—he could see different status indicators on the right and left of his display. So he must be wearing his augmented reality glasses.
That was the only explanation.
Unless…
He looked down, and was greeted by a pair of metallic legs. They were thick, barrel-like. Like his hands, they were formed of a series of servomotors and shafts. His waist was little different.
It can’t be.
Jason focused on those different HUD status indicators more intently. He realized he’d never seen anything like them before.
On the left there was a Team Status column, currently empty, and a Damage Readout display.
He focused on the Damage Readout, and a representation of his body filled the center of his vision. It appeared humanoid, and yet wasn’t entirely human: it was far too blocky for that. Instead, it looked more like an Innukshuk, the rock slabs the Inuit piled into manlike shapes to mark trade routes and hunting grounds.
And how the hell did I know that?
Below the Damage Readout, was another status indicator: Drone Repair Unit status: 100%.
He hovered his eyes over that, and a small tooltip appeared.
Drone Repair Unit status indicates the health of your personal fleet of repair drones, which can make spot repairs after battles.
Uh, okay.
His eyes caught on a model number displayed beneath the representation of his body.
Vulture Mech, Bipedal Variant 22A. Firmware version: 1.0.4b.
He dismissed the Damage Readout and lay back down.
I’m a copy. A Mind Refurb. And I’ve been injected into a mech. Like in some kind of twisted anime.
He could feel the grit of the surface pressing into his upper body and the back of his arms, no doubt thanks to tactile sensors embedded in his metal skin. But he hardly noticed it. He didn’t care. He gazed unblinkingly upward.
His mind kept cycling through a mix of powerful emotions. Regret, for what he once was. Anger, for what the military had done to him. Sadness, for losing all his friends and family. Confusion, as to why he’d been dumped out here with no guidance whatsoever.
He wasn’t sure how long he simply lay there, staring dejectedly at the yellow sky. Maybe a few minutes. Maybe an hour.
Well, no point in wallowing in self-pity. What’s done is done. At least I’m alive.
He finally sat up again, and this time scrambled entirely to his feet. He felt clumsy, as if this body wasn’t his own—which it wasn’t. He lost his balance and fell halfway, then forced himself to try again. This time he managed it, and stood to his full height. He realized he must have stood at least ten meters tall. In fact, an altimeter overlaying his vision reported that his sight was currently positioned nine point eight three meters above the surface.
The military had installed his consciousness into a mech and then abandoned him in the middle of nowhere. Was he supposed to figure out his mission on his own? Was this some kind of test? Or training? He somehow doubted that the army would dump a trillion credit machine in the middle of nowhere and expect it to fend for itself. Something definitely didn’t smell right about the whole situation.