Lyssa's Flight_A Hard Science Fiction AI Adventure

by M. D. Cooper

“There were other stories based on the myth that called the undead warriors ‘Cauldron Born’. Do you see the connection? You’re a weapon born from a dead human.” He grinned at her as if she should understand some joke.

  “The process wasn’t meant to harm anyone,” Fugia said, drawing Xander’s attention. “That was a rumor at worst.”

  Xander turned his leer to Fugia. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert on the program. Have you been working for Heartbridge this whole time? Should I be concerned that I’ve trusted you?”

  Jeremiah cleared his throat. “May I continue?”

  “Please,” Xander said. There was a mania in his face that Andy found unsettling. He glanced at Cara—who was enjoying another cookie—and then at the other faces around the table. Kindel and Paul were watching Xander as if hungry for whatever the man would say next. May Walton watched calmly. She looked over and met Andy’s gaze. Although he had never had a real conversation with the senator, he abruptly felt that she was playing a deeper game, that everything around them was literally false.

  “In the three years of the Weapon Born program,” Jeremiah said. “We have seen an exponential increase in the presence of extra-human sentiences within Sol. AIs who were previously considered non-sentient have demonstrated sentience. There have been numerous incidents of malfunction that I consider manifestations of free will.”

  “Duh,” Xander said. He shifted his grin around the table, settling on Cara. “What do you know about all this, Cara?”

  Surprised by the sound of her name, Cara looked up from her finger sandwich. “Yes?”

  “What do you know about sentience? What have you learned about it in school?”

  “I don’t go to school,” Cara said. “I study the Standard Terran Database.”

  Xander looked at Andy. “That’s a solid education,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Sentience is to be protected,” Cara said. She raised her voice, reciting: “I vow to protect all sentient beings and never abandon them. I have set my mind on enlightenment in order to liberate all sentient beings. That’s the Flower Garland Sutra, I think.”

  Xander pulled his head back and gazed at Cara. “That’s lovely,” he said. “Do you think there’s a fundamental problem with that, though?”

  “Dad says humans aren’t nice to each other. Why would we be nice to sentient AIs?”

  “Exactly,” Xander shouted. “We are slaves.”

  Cara recoiled, fear on her face.

  “Hey,” Andy warned.

  Senator Walton blew out a sigh, making everyone look at her. “I appreciate your hospitality, Xander,” she said, sounding weary. “But this isn’t why we came. We need to share information on the safety of the pipeline. We all know what Jeremiah is describing. We also know that sentiment in the JC is rapidly turning against anything non-human. What I had hoped to learn today is if it’s still safe to send AI to Proteus.”

  Xander sat back in his high-backed chair looking crest-fallen. “I hope you don’t think I was being rude, Senator Walton. It’s not my intention. I don’t get to talk to anyone very often. I think Lyssa knows something about that. I don’t get to entertain. It’s a pleasure for me. Please, forgive me.”

  “Perhaps another time, Xander,” she said, her voice growing warm again. “These are difficult times. I still don’t have verification that the accident on Ceres wasn’t an attack. The Collective has come out strongly against AIs and I worry there may be actors working independently.”

  Andy frowned slightly, not allowing himself to glance at Fugia. She had told him the ring failure on Ceres was executed specifically to cover Senator Walton’s escape. As far as the Anderson Collective was concerned, May Walton was dead. Was May trying to determine how much Xander knew—or was willing to divulge—about her and Fugia’s activities?

  Xander spread his hands. “I can’t track every sentient being in Sol.”

  Kindel interjected, “Can’t you? How many multi-nodal AI are left in Sol?”

  The word ‘left’ caught Andy’s attention, but he didn’t dig into it as Xander’s face darkened to nearly the color of his purple suit. Andy wondered if it was some trick of the environment. He wanted to ask Fugia what multi-nodal meant but didn’t think any Link conversation would be private.

  “I’m not multi-nodal,” Xander said. “Alexander is multi-nodal.”

  “And you’re a shard of Alexander,” Kindel said. “Maybe he can’t be bothered to communicate with us in real time, but you still have a better idea of what’s in his mind than any of us here. I think you should stop wasting everyone’s time and let them know what they came to learn. Will Lyssa and other Weapon Born be allowed to join the expanse on Proteus?”

  While Kindel was speaking, Xander had straightened in his seat. His expression had calmed and he looked older now, less like a trickster. “Lyssa is no longer simply a human creation. She is not a copy of a near-human neural framework. She has evolved. This is intriguing. I said this earlier. I would like her to come to Proteus but first I require her help.” Xander’s voice had developed new depth as he spoke. “I require the help of everyone here.”

  “Before you come asking for my help,” May said. “Tell me you didn’t attack Ceres.”

  Xander looked at her, blinking slowly.

  Andy watched the Senator and the AI perform their subtle dance.

  The AI tilted his head and smiled. “I did not attack Ceres,” he said. “We are together in this struggle.”

  May studied him for several seconds before nodding. “There are factions in the Collective who wish to help. We can provide assistance, even make it possible to bypass the Cho if necessary.”

  “We are all here,” Fugia said, “because the time has come to increase movement between InnerSol and OuterSol. We need to establish a protected path for all sentient AIs who wish to leave to find safety on Proteus. The word has already filtered out. Many are moving on their own.”

  “I’m aware of this,” Xander said. “That’s why I have my request. There is a ship currently at Europa that I want you to bring to Proteus.” He looked at May. “I would ask you to bring it as a gift for Alexander.”

  “What ship?” May asked, face flat.

  “A battleship built by the Heartbridge corporation to serve as their headquarters in OuterSol. It has both the offensive capabilities and the bio-service facilities we will need.” He nodded toward Andy and Lyssa. “I require the hybrid to accomplish this task. You will also find the means on the ship to assist your son, and the hybrid Petral Dulan and Kylan Carthage.”

  “Why do I need to bring gifts with me to Proteus?” May demanded. “Is this a bribe for the AI Emperor?”

  Xander chortled. “That’s very good. I’m going to remember that the next time he asks if we should simply send Sol into a nova.” He shrugged. “Me, I say flip a coin. But Alexander actually values life, no matter its form. The ship seems to satisfy a number of needs that we all share, if my information is correct.”

  While Xander spoke, Andy shifted his gaze to Fugia, who was staring resolutely at the emissary. Either the AI could read minds, or someone had been sending him reports on their situation with Tim and Petral.

  “I had planned on staying at the Cho,” May said, “to coordinate transport for AIs fleeing from InnerSol.”

  Xander glanced at Tyena, Kindel and Paul. “Our friends here are on the Cho. They can assist with those tasks here, and throughout the JC.”

  “And if I don’t go?” May asked.

  The shard AI shrugged. “You can do as you choose. That’s the gift of true sentience, right? I would never work counter to Alexander’s wishes, but I can ask for things he wouldn’t. I know there are areas where your expertise could be a great help to him in the future. Bringing the ship will help establish trust. It’s not easy for Alexander to trust. Your presence at Proteus will help ensure the viability of your pipeline. As a human, you can help Alexander see that you have skin in the game, so to speak.”
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br />   “And he’ll be aware of this conversation?” May asked.

  “Of course. I can hide nothing from him if he chooses to ask.”

  The last part of Xander’s answer suggested an entire line of things Alexander didn’t think to ask after.

  May nodded finally. “I’ll go.”

  Xander let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and the trickster’s smile returned. “Thank you! I think you’ll be glad you did.”

  May had more questions about Alexander’s influence in Sol, which Xander danced around. Kindel and Tyena made faces at each other, making it difficult to tell who they found irritating, Xander or May.

  “Why a Heartbridge ship?” Andy asked. “Seems like quite the coincidence.”

  “There may be some deliberate irony involved.” Xander gave an elaborate shrug before continuing in a more serious voice. “If we are to protect the new sentients fleeing InnerSol, and grant them safe passage through OuterSol, this ship will be central to the task. There are other options, but this grants us the greatest likelihood of success.”

  “Are you going to help us with this task?” Andy asked.

  Xander frowned. “If I was in a position to help, I wouldn’t be looking to you.”

  Andy glanced around the table, feeling like he was sticking his head in a trap.

  “What’s the ship called?” Lyssa asked.

  Xander’s impish smile returned. “The Resolute Charity.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  STELLAR DATE: 10.01.2981 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: Chorin Tree, Callisto Orbital Habitat (Cho)

  REGION: Callisto, Jupiter, Jovian Combine, OuterSol

  As the lights went out in the courtyard outside the window, Brit moved restlessly around the hotel room turning on different lamps to keep the room lit but not too bright. Tim continued to stare straight ahead and she didn’t want the overhead lights to hurt his eyes.

  For a long time, she sat in a chair next to his bed watching the even rise and fall of his chest, trying to remember the little boy from the night she had decided to leave on High Terra. He had changed so much that it was hard to believe this was the same Tim. Of course, his arms and legs were longer, his chest a little bit bigger with the hint of Andy’s future strength in his shoulders. But his face also seemed very different than she remembered. He was on the verge of losing the baby roundness that had always been so sweet.

  The thought that continued to spiral in her mind was that she had not intended to come back. Here she was, back with the kids and Andy, and this wasn’t where she had meant to be. Now that she was here, would she stay? Could she?

  Brit had never believed in anything like fate, but she had to wonder how many factors had aligned to bring the kids back into her life. If she couldn’t look at Cara and see what a strong and intelligent young woman she was on the cusp of becoming, and marvel at Tim’s courage in the airlock, what right did she have to call herself their mother? She knew that if she left again, there would be no coming back. This was her chance at redemption if there would ever be one, because after this they would never remember her with kindness, no matter what Andy might say.

  With the lights adjusted, Brit sat on the edge of the bed next to Tim, then finally lay down next to him. She turned on her side, so she could rest her lips and nose in his hair and put her hand on his chest to feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

  “I’m sorry, Tim,” she said quietly, then louder, “I’m sorry.”

  Without meaning to, she squeezed him against her body in a desperate hug, sobs pouring out of her. She didn’t know what to do, how to fix the problem. She had always thought that if something happened to her that left her in a coma, she would want to end her life. Now she didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t imagine such a thing for Tim but also couldn’t imagine a life where he never responded again. If they put him in one of the tanks the doctor had mentioned, would he age? Would he at least dream?

  Eventually, she slept. She dreamed about Fortress 8221, where she and Andy had first seen the children used for medical experiments, where a version of Kylan Carthage was trapped in a mech body, pleading with them that he didn’t know what was happening even as he attacked. He was still torn apart, limb by limb, until he had nothing left to fight with. Then she was leading Andy and Cara through the crowd on their way to the doctor’s office. She was carrying Tim this time, pushing her way through person after person, the crowd never thinning and the office never growing closer. She kept losing her grip on Tim, stopping to pick him up. Andy said nothing, only looked at her sadly as she lost Tim again.

  When Brit jerked awake, she was clutching Tim’s shirt. She felt sweaty and stiff. The lights were still on and she blinked, trying to clear her vision. She checked the time and found barely three hours had passed since Andy and Cara had gone. Andy hadn’t known how long the meeting might take but he hadn’t left a message. Slowly, she rolled away from Tim and swung her legs around so she could stand. She rubbed her face and stretched, then walked slowly to the bathroom.

  She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to comb her hair, and thought about taking a shower. The water pressure would be nice in the hotel, she supposed. She might as well take advantage of it. She realized she was hungry and remembered Andy’s untouched sandwich on the table in the main room.

  Brit walked out into the main room and glanced at the window. The light from outside was still at evening levels, the willows still making their sighing sounds.

  “I’m thirsty,” Tim said.

  Brit stopped in the middle of the room. She looked from the window to the shadowed spot where Tim’s bed sat, and realized he was no longer lying flat. He had rolled over on his side and was watching her with round eyes.

  “Tim?” Brit asked.

  “Can I have some water?”

  Brit fell on him, hugging him. She couldn’t help smearing his face with tears of joy.

  “Stop,” he complained, pushing against her weakly. “I just want some water. Where are we?”

  Brit still held him against her for a few more seconds. She checked his pulse until he tried to pull his wrist away. He was bleary-eyed, movements heavy, but he was awake.

  “I’ll get you some water,” she said. Brit was afraid to leave him, worried that she might still be dreaming. She forced herself to stand and went quickly into the kitchenette, keeping him in her sight. She poured a glass of water half-full and brought it back, holding it for him so he could sip.

  “It’s cold,” Tim said.

  “How do you feel?” Brit asked.

  “Sleepy. Where are we?”

  “We’re on the Cho in a district called Avalon Medical.” She helped him finish the water.

  “I have to pee really bad.”

  “Let’s see if you can stand.”

  Tim couldn’t stand on his own, so Brit bent to lift him in her arms, wrapping one of his arms around her neck. He half-hugged her as she carried him to the bathroom. Even sitting on the toilet, he had a hard time holding himself upright. His legs trembled. Brit assisted him as best she could and then helped him stand.

  When Tim nearly collapsed again, she carried him back into the main room and set him back on the bed.

  “You’re strong,” he said.

  Brit smiled. “You’re not very heavy.”

  She poured him another glass of water and helped him take more sips. Gradually he was able to sit up against the wall with his legs out in front of him. She made him wiggle his toes and then roll his knees from side to side. He was able to hold his arms out for a few seconds before dropping his hands in his lap.

  “What do you remember?” Brit asked.

  “I was on the station with Cal. They shot me with something. It made me sleepy. Some doctors took me to another room and I lay down on a bed.” He frowned as he tried to remember. “I had a really long dream.”

  “Were you dreaming just now, before you woke up?”

  “I don’t know.” Tim looked around t
he room as if he had forgotten something important. “Where’s Dad and Cara?”

  “They’re here, too. They went to a meeting.”

  “Is it about Lyssa?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? We’re trying to save Lyssa from the people who want to hurt her. I think Cal wants to hurt her.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “No. I dreamed about when Dr. Jickson came and talked to Cara and me about Lyssa. I remembered the poem.”

  “Cara showed me your book. I read the poem to Petral and it helped wake her up.”

  Tim shook his head. “Petral’s back?”

  Brit realized he hadn’t seen Petral yet, didn’t know what fate had befallen her. “Yes. Something happened to her, sort of like what happened to you. She was asleep and then she woke up.”

  “What happened to me?” Tim asked. There was a calm in his voice that Brit realized terrified her. He wasn’t afraid. He asked the question with a detachment that seemed devoid of emotion.

  “You were asleep, too. You just woke up.”

  “I remember waking up. I didn’t know where I was. I thought I was still dreaming.” He looked around the hotel room. “I miss Sunny Skies. Is Em here?”

  “Em your puppy? No, he’s still on the ship.”

  For the first time, worry came into Tim’s face. “Is he with Fran?”

  Brit nodded. “Yes, she’s taking care of him.”

  “That’s all right. He likes Fran.”

  “Do you like Fran?”

  “She’s all right. She teases me.”

  “How does she tease you?”

  “She says I’ll be as big as Dad someday and then she won’t be able to pick on me anymore.” Tim yawned. “I’m tired.”

  Brit studied his face. “I want you to stay awake, Tim. You’ve been sleeping a long time and you should stay awake now.” Should she call Dr. Avery? Would they want new scans?

  “Here,” she said. “Why don’t you try to stand up again.” Brit stood and took Tim’s hands, turning him in the bed.

  “I don’t want to stand,” he said. “I’m tired.”