by John Ringo
“Oh?” Dana said.
“The way our algorithms work is... To say they’re pretty complex is an understatement.”
“I’m not a cyberneticist,” Dana said.
“No, you’re a cyberist,” Granadica said. “A person who interacts extremely well with AIs. They’re rare. Sort of like mathematical prodigies. But it’s more on a level of social prodigy.”
“I was sort of popular in school...” Dana said uncomfortably.
“Different sort of social,” Granadica said. “Again, someone who gets along extremely well with AIs. But the point about the algorithms. Again, I can read you like a book, I just can’t access the information.”
“I’m sort of glad,” Dana said. “Can you define... ‘read like a book’?”
“Not without accessing that block,” Granadica said. “Which I can’t. But in general you can figure that at some level I’m reading your thoughts like a telepath I just can’t use the information.”
“Really, really uncomfortable about that,” Dana said.
“Which is another reason we don’t,” Granadica said. “But the algorithms permit... reading if it’s at a certain level. Such as when a normal friend would notice something. Perhaps one who is good at it, but not telepathic.”
“Okay,” Dana said. “I guess that makes sense, too. That’s just... being normal. Being human.”
“Right,” Granadica said. “So, you guys were talking about me. We’ve established that. No problem there. Thanks for helping out, again. But you are also leaving something out. I know it. I mean, I’m allowed to know that you’re leaving something out. It wasn’t all business. If you were talking about it with Chief Barnett, she’d notice you were leaving something out. Give.”
“Uh...” Dana said, coloring.
“You were canoodling!” Granadica caroled.
“We weren’t can...” Dana said, shaking her head. “I don’t think... I think... Oh, I don’t know what to think!”
“Oh, this is good,” Granadica said. “You’re actually acting like a girl rather than a really angry robot. Tell Granny all.”
“It wasn’t. ..” Dana said, then took a breath. “We weren’t ‘canoodling.’ God, where did you find that word? It was when we’d finished talking and Tyler got sort of... excited. About having an idea how to ... improve things.”
“His idea or yours?” Granadica asked.
“Ummm... Mine. Oh, the hell with it. Can you open up the recording on my say-so?”
“No,” Granadica said. “It would take Mr. Vernon’s okay. And it’s more fun watching you fumble your way through the story.”
“Then the hell with you!” Dana said. “You can just be curious!”
“I’m sorry,” Granadica said. “So is the whole thing your idea?”
“He had some of it,” Dana said. “I can’t really say which is which. I think I convinced him part of it had to be a new shell. And moving to Thermopylae was my idea.”
“Putting me in the line of fire,” Granadica said, dryly. “Thanks. So... he was excited?”
“And he sort of...kissed me,” Dana said.
“ ‘Had fun at Thanksgiving, Sister, see you next year...’ kiss or ‘Mommy and Daddy’ kiss?”
“You are just...” Dana said, laughing. “Where do you get these things?”
“I watch television?”
“Well,” Dana said. “Both. ‘Yes and no.’ So there.”
“At the same time?” Granadica asked. “Separate times? Several times? That sounds like canoodling to me.”
“Once on the forehead,” Dana said. “Sort of ‘Thanks’ Kiss from a cousin. Yeah. ‘Thanks for helping us move the haybales. Night, cuz.’ That sort of kiss. Then, uh... he got pretty excited. And, uh... sort of on the lips.”
“This is like pulling teeth!” Granadica said. “On the lips or near the lips or... ?”
“On,” Dana said. “But I don’t think he even remembers it!”
“You obviously do,” Granadica said.
Dana made a face and crossed her arms.
“Wow,” Granadica said. “I’ve never seen someone saving up spit before. At least not somebody over twelve.”
“I’m not saving up spit,” Dana said. “I’m confused, okay? For one thing, I’m confused about why I’m talking about human relationships with an AI.”
“You don’t have enough girl friends?” Granadica said. “And while I don’t have the glands, I can whistle the tune? You got me out of an AI emotional jam and I’m trying to reciprocate? I’m curious?”
“And you’re distracting me,” Dana said.
“That, too,” Granadica said. “What are you confused about?”
“Does he like me?” Dana asked.
“Yes,” Granadica said. “If you mean ‘does he like me like me?’ as in ‘does he want to explore a more intimate relationship,’ my guess is he hasn’t ever given it any thought.”
“Oh, that’s just great” Dana snarled.
“Dana, you don’t know Tyler Vernon very well,” Granadica said. “He’s a very focused person. So are you. It’s one part of the mutual attraction. But you, often, don’t think about your emotional effect upon others. You don’t, for example, realize how strongly Corporal Ramage felt about you. Your relationship was far more than ‘friends with benefits’ for him. Engineer’s Mate Sumstine was extremely infatuated by you. So is Thermal at a certain level while being aware that he’s also married and doesn’t have an interest in destroying his marriage. Palencia is so conflicted it is a bit funny to watch, although he tries very hard to conceal it.”
“Palencia?” Dana said. “You’ve got to be kidding! I wouldn’t get involved with Palencia in a million years!”
“He’s trying to figure out how to get close to you while also dealing with the fact that you are completely the ‘wrong sort’ to think of for marriage,” Granadica said. “The girl you most certainly don’t bring home to mother. I mean, the tattoo alone! They didn’t know about it until the mission but have since found some pics on the hypernet. Some of that is from those parts I’m not normally supposed to access. They’re opening up because of the conversation. The point being that you don’t realize that people are in love with you. Why should Tyler Vernon?”
“I’m not in love with Tyler Vernon,” Dana said, crossing her arms.
“Riiight,” Granadica said. “You also don’t spend a lot of time exploring the depths of your feelings. For example, you’re physically attracted to Palencia and even like some aspects of his class consciousness. Children by him, at least in marriage, would automatically place them in a secure financial environment. Guaranteed high education and a place in the world stage.”
“You’re doing that mind reading thing...” Dana said, dangerously.
“Only the same sort of thing a friend would,” Granadica said. “You can lie to me. You’re just not very good at it.”
“Oh, thanks very much,” Dana said, shaking her head. She paused then frowned. “What pics on the hypernet?”
* * * *
“He’s seriously attracted to her?” Dr. Velasquez said, chuckling.
It was another break in the interminable negotiations. The Horvath had become particularly insufferable, so the Ogut mediator had called a recess. No one was particularly looking forward to returning to the table.
“Unfortunately,” Dr. Palencia said, grimacing. “He admitted as much when we spoke on the Thermopylae. The slight humorous note was that... Ah, I think much of Dario but the truth is he is much a lady’s man. He goes through the young ladies a bit like a bulldozer.”
“So I have heard from my son,” Dr. Velasquez said, shrugging. “It is the way of handsome young men.”
“The money doesn’t hurt,” Dr. Palencia said. “But Dario was ... I have never seen him nervous about a woman before. It was that that made me realize he is thinking of her in great seriousness.”
“As a wife?” Dr. Velasquez said, his eyes wide. “A mistress I could imagine. Not t
hat I can imagine Parker agreeing to it, mind you, but as a wife ... ? Your mother...”
“Mamacita would be ... impossible,” Dr. Palencia said.
“Dr. Velasquez,” James Horst said, walking over and breaking in. “A... moment of your time.”
“Of course, Envoy,” Dr. Velasquez said, nodding.
“It is...” Horst said. He was a professional diplomat with an expert poker face. The only way to tell he was stressed was that it was even more blank than during negotiations. “Diego has been seriously hurt in an accident.”
“He...” Dr. Velasquez said. “Is he alive?”
“Yes,” Horst said. “But... he is in a coma. The doctors are unsure if... He is in very poor condition. We’re arranging a shuttle to take you to the Thermopylae.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Velasquez said, nodding. “I... This is terrible news.”
“There is... more,” Horst said. “There have been a rash of accidents in the One-Four-Three in the last week. As you heard, Engineer’s Mate Parker has been accused of murder in the death of a Pathan Marine. The investigation, however, had started to focus on... on Diego.”
“Diego?” Dr. Velasquez said. “Impossible! Why would... ?”
“That has been frequently asked,” Horst said. “I was specifically charged with bringing it to your attention. No one, and I mean no one, including Parker, understands his motivations. No one can believe it. The only possibility, and cyberneticists are getting involved, is that it is a giant conspiracy on the part of all the AIs.
“The records are solid. Everything points to Diego. And not only Leonidas but Granadica, Athena, Argus and Paris all agree that the records are valid. Either every AI in the system is trying to pin this on your son or... your son is guilty of not only sabotage but murder and nearly killing himself and his coxswain. What is worse is that according to the coxswain, Diego acted in a most heroic manner in the accident, sacrificing himself to save the coxswain!”
“That... truly makes no sense,” Dr. Palencia said. “Granadica is... known to have some flaws. If it were only Granadica I would argue most strenuously that this must be a mistake. With the other AIs involved...”
“Whatever the case, we are arranging transportation at this moment,” Horst said. “I have taken the liberty of having people begin packing for you, Doctor. I hope you don’t find this...”
“No,” Velasquez said. “Thank you. I will—”
There was a stir in the room as the Ogut mediator slithered over to the Horvath Envoy and began speaking quite forcefully, for a diplomat, in the high liquid Horvath language.
“What now?” Horst asked. They were just beyond the range their implants would automatically translate. However...
“WHAT?” Harry Danforth shouted. He was close enough to overhear.
“Gentle beings,” the enunciator chimed. “There is a minor emergency. Please return to your cabins at this time. Gentle beings. There is a minor emergency. Please return to your cabins at this time....”
“What emergency?” Horst asked rhetorically, walking over to the Ogut. Drs. Palencia and Velasquez followed.
“... a clear breach of our solemn agreement and a violation of interstellar diplomatic law!” the Ogut screeched. “This is an unfriendly act against the Ogut Empire!”
“What happened?” Horst said carefully. “Unfriendly act” was a diplomatic euphemism for “we’re about to open up our whole can of whoop-ass.”
“A H-Horvath fleet...” Danforth stuttered.
“A Horvath fleet has entered the system,” Polit said calmly. “They immediately started jamming all hypercom bands. They are demanding that all human diplomatic personnel be turned over to them, that the Ogut leave the system and that E Eridani be declared the property of the Horvath Collective.”
“We are immediately breaking off all negotiation,” Horst said. “This is a violation of the cease-fire and a clear casus belli. Negotiate for continued diplomatic immunity under the protection of the Ogut. Note that we will not surrender peaceably to the Horvath or any other polity. Our security will turn the interior of this Ogut ship into a bloodbath if the Horvath are allowed onboard or if the Ogut act to turn us over to the Horvath.”
“Agreed,” Polit said.
“That is rather strong,” Danforth pointed out. “I don’t think we want to antagonize the Ogut—”
“Obviously I’m not going to use the term ‘bloodbath,’” Harry,” Polit said. “Our security statement is that we refuse under any circumstances transfer to Horvath or polities other than Ogut control and shall resist such turnover with both due and undue force.”
“Harry, shut up and go get some canapés,” Horst said. “Dr. Velasquez, I’m sorry but I’m afraid repatriation to the Thermopylae is impossible at this time.”
* * * *
TWENTY-SEVEN
“SET CONDITION ONE! SET CONDITION ONE THROUGHOUT THE SHIP! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! THERE SHALL BE BATTLE UPON THIS MORN!”
Leonidas was obviously excited.
“God,” Parker muttered, clearing her screens. “I knew it was too good to last. Flight Engineering, Twenty-Four. Am not complete on test runs.”
“Any issues?” Thermal replied.
“None my division has found beyond the repairs,” Dana replied. “Looks good from here”
“Action condition warning coming up. Looks like this is an all-hands evolution. Cert the bird as flyable. Your cox is on the way.”
“Roger,” Dana said. She could feel the clanging of boats getting into battle readiness. “What’s up?”
“Horvath have decided they don’t like negotiating.”
* * * *
“What, exactly, do they think they’re doing?”
Rear Admiral Jack Clemons had had various nicknames over the years. “Tiny.” “Teddy” referring to a stuffed bear. “Vanilla” from his college days when he used to perform in an otherwise black rap group. Six foot six in his stocking feet, blond and perpetually hitting the edge of the weight requirements, he had a remarkably pleasant and placid public face for any naval officer, much less the commander of a battlestation. When he was a younger bachelor, women just wanted to snuggle up to that big, fluffy, funny teddy bear.
People who had any knowledge of his reputation knew that
was very much his surface face. His other college job had been as a bouncer in clubs. Where his nickname was “Jack-Up.” More than one drunken fighter had found himself flying over a crowd and into a wall.
“Troy is down for the rebuild on its Orion Drive, sir,” Commodore Dexter Guptill said, shrugging. “I guess they figured it was a good time to take back the system.”
The operations officer of the Thermopylae was tall and heavy bodied with a shock of black hair. Around most people he was considered a large guy. Next to his boss he was more like a moon circling Jupiter.
“Admiral Kinyon, sir.”
“Vice Admiral,” Clemons said, looking at the viewscreen.
“Rear Admiral,” Kinyon said, chuckling. Kinyon had just been promoted and redesignated as “CoFortRonOne” or Commander, Fortress Squadron One. “The Horvath seem to have come into the system in insufficient strength but they also brought through a missile swarm which could mess up our pretty ships. Under the circumstances, I think sending a Fortress to express our displeasure is appropriate. SolDefCom is in concurrence.”
“Mission, sir?” Clemons asked.
“Enter the E Eridani system, reduce Horvath resistance, recover the diplomats, return to Sol system. If you can take out the ships without too much damage, usual Arh, Salvage, me hearties!’ But only what you can bring back easily. We’re not going to maintain presence in Eridani. Not until Battlestation Four comes online and is fully certified.”
“Roger, sir,” Clemons said. “Commodore, you heard the man. Make it so.”
“Raise the black flag, aye, sir!” Guptill said. “Maneuvering control, adjust vector for the gate. Avast, me hearties! Man the rigging!”
“Se
riously, Jack,” Admiral Kinyon said. “Don’t do anything stupid. Boot their ass then get back into Sol. Looks like the war just started again.”
* * * *
“We’ll wait until we’ve reduced the majority of the Horvath ships before ejecting parasites,” Clemons said. The briefing was while the Thermopylae was under power, so they were having to deal with the acceleration. Battlestations accelerated at a low enough G that they didn’t have inertial compensators. Malta was going to be compensated but the command group of the Thermopylae had to manage by bracing their feet and holding onto the conference table as their rolling chairs tried to slide to port. “The Horvath brought through a missile swarm estimated at fifty thousand missiles. That’s going to smart but the rest is a couple of Aggressor knock-offs and four Cofubof cruisers.”
