Sid shook his head. “That wasn’t a real drone. It was more like an advanced war bot; a field commander of sorts. It had a number of recent ‘peacekeeping’ objectives in its memory. It was useful back then to the Resistance, but the true drones, like this guy here, are something else entirely.”
Sid sounded almost ready to throw in the towel. Chris wasn’t about to let him do that. The second the mercenaries believed that Sid was no longer of any use to them, and that they weren’t able to put him to work somewhere else, they would likely throw both him and Chris out into space. Never mind all the piloting and other work Chris had been doing for them. Their number one priority now was finding out what the mercenaries’ current relationship with WEAPCO was.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Chris asked.
“Shoot.”
“Can you get the war bot working well enough to be able to interface with the drone? I mean, they have to be able to talk to each other, right? It’s possible that the war bot might be able to gain access to the drone’s storage. The war bot need only convince the drone that it’s working legitimately.”
Sid brightened. “Yes. Yes, that could work.” He stood up. “In fact ... that’s it! Genius!”
Chris chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve been cooped up in here for so long that you’re unable to see the wood for the trees. Maybe you and I should trade roles for a day. You can go flying about with Clayton, Dar, and Eve, and I’ll tinker about in here with all the gizmos.”
“Yeah, let me get back to you about that,” Sid said, rolling his eyes theatrically. He quickly sobered. “Wiring the bot into the drone carries a risk, though. But hopefully I should be able to work around it.”
“What sort of risk?” Eve asked.
Chris and Sid turned to the woman, who had made her way stealthily into the workshop. Chris wondered why she had been so keen to get her hands on the chameleon suit when she was so good at sneaking already. She was dressed, as always, in a figure-hugging jumpsuit. During his time within the stronghold, Chris had often found it hard to keep his eyes off the woman. He wondered if she dressed the way she did on purpose, to distract her opponents from her truly deadly nature.
“Well?” Eve prompted.
“The war bot might ... blow up,” Sid said.
“What would the impact radius be?”
“Based on what I’ve found out, the bot contains enough power and armaments to flatten an area of around ten to fifteen metres in diameter. However, it would likely be a lot worse than that, due to the fact that we’re working in a confined space.”
“A good thing this workshop is designed to withstand that sort of thing, then,” Eve said, looking around herself and to the ceiling. “You wouldn’t be the first to consider playing around with something unpredictable and highly volatile.” She glanced at Chris, and then bent over, peering at the war bot. “If you want some advice, I would suggest not sticking anything where you think it might not like it.”
“What can we do for you, Eve?” Chris asked the tall woman, trying to keep his tone as polite and respectful as possible.
“Tyler has something for you,” Eve said, starting back towards the entrance to the workshop. “The Firefly you were after.”
“He has?” Chris said.
“Pulled it out of the salvage, just where you said it would be. He’s actually had it for the last couple of days. We’ve been taking a look. Nice ship. Come with me and I’ll take you to it.”
“Days? Why didn’t you tell me?” Chris demanded.
“We wanted to see if we’d prefer to keep it for ourselves,” Eve answered, with a shrug.
“What?” Chris was unable to keep from scowling. “Eve, we had a deal. You said that if I got you guys the salvage, helped you in your fight against Mal, and worked on that WEAPCO relationship problem, that you would help me get what I wanted. What about honour among thieves and all that?”
Eve looked at Chris and laughed. “Oh, you do make me laugh, Mr Bainfield. You’re hardly what I would call a thief. Barely a man, as it is. How old are you? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? No wonder the boss man calls you ‘boy’.”
“You know, him calling me that all the time is really beginning to piss me off,” Chris growled.
Eve presented her usual condescending smile. “The pup is finally growing claws. Some advice, Chris – just be careful what you do with them. Now, stop standing there and come on. I don’t expect to have to tell you again, not unless you want another kick in the nuts. And you,” she added to Sid, “I’m sealing you in here. Contact us when you’re done. If I hear a boom, I’ll know that you screwed up.”
“Hey, Chris,” Sid said, as Eve went on ahead. “When she said you were considering playing around with something highly volatile—”
“Yes, Sid,” Chris said, cutting him off. “That’s exactly what she meant.”
Sid raised his eyebrows. “That’s what I thought.” He turned back to the war bot. “Oh, and I’ve thought about it. We’re not trading places.”
~
Chris followed Eve through the mercenaries’ stronghold, passing many of the other inhabitants as they walked the winding, decadent corridors. Many of the men whistled and made comments as Eve passed. Most she ignored, though some she responded to with a sharp tongue.
She and Chris soon arrived in a docking bay that was somewhat detached from the rest of the stronghold. A pair of armed men stood by the entrance, allowing Eve to pass as they recognised her, permitting Chris to do so only after Eve told them – casually – that he was with her.
Dar was leaning up against a large crate, one foot resting flat upon it, arms folded across his chest, the usual, confident smirk on his face. He looked especially amused today, for some reason. Chris nodded to him as the man turned to face the two people entering the bay.
“Ah, here’s our test pilot,” Dar said.
“‘Test pilot’?” Chris repeated.
“Sure, for the fighter we’ve brought in,” Dar said, his smirk widening.
“You mean the Firefly that I asked you lot to fetch for me,” Chris said, ignoring the man’s maniacal grin.
“Oh, we brought in the Firefly, alright,” Dar said. “Only problem is that ... well, it might not be exactly what you were expecting.”
Chris didn’t know what he meant by that, and Dar didn’t elaborate further. Chris followed Eve around a stack of equipment, the woman flourishing a hand in the direction of the WEAPCO fighter.
“Behold,” she said, “the ultimate secret weapon in the fight against WEAPCO.”
Behind him, Chris heard Dar begin to laugh. He didn’t know exactly what to make of the remark. The fighter looked normal. It appeared precisely as he had seen in the images and schematics the Resistance had obtained of it. Everything looked to be in its right place. The guns were there and all the wings and fins were present. The paintwork was unblemished, the whites and blues as he would have expected. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary to be concerned about, as far as he could see. A handful of other men were standing around near the craft, one of whom – bobbing in the air – was Tyler. When he saw that Eve had brought Chris to the hold, he hovered over.
“Here it is, boy,” Tyler said, his breath stinking of cigar smoke. “The fighter you so desperately wanted.” He gestured for Chris to go to it.
Chris hesitated. “You’ve apparently had the Firefly for days. Why did you suddenly decide not to just keep it for yourselves?”
“Let’s just say that one of the reasons is that we don’t want to handle anything as hot as this. It is WEAPCO technology after all,” the man said, reaching for a fresh cigar.
“And the other reason?”
Tyler lit and puffed at the cigar. “You should probably see for yourself,” he said with a grin. “Or should I say, experience it for yourself.”
Dar began laughing again.
“In you go,” Tyler said, slapping Chris on the back and pushing him towards the lowered Firefly cockpit.
&
nbsp; Chris stepped forward uneasily, now not quite sure what to expect. He wondered if perhaps the fighter itself had some inbuilt defence mechanism that was either going to attempt to shoot him as he approached, or erect a solid forcefield to stop him from getting any closer. Nothing of the sort happened.
“Go on, sit down,” Tyler chuckled. “The controls are obvious. Just don’t start the engines.”
Eve, Dar, and Clayton were still grinning. Chris heard Clayton’s eerie robotic cackle drifting over, like the evil laugh of some unseen commentator. Perhaps instead of guns or a forcefield, the fighter was going to shock him when he sat down in the pilot’s seat, straps leaping up from the sides, wrapping around and electrocuting him, putting him close to death.
Gingerly he lowered himself into the seat, giving a start as the main console lit up in front of him. The controls were indeed immediately intuitive. A glowing button on the touch screen labelled ‘Close Cockpit’ invited him to do so. He pressed it, and the cockpit rose into the main body of the craft locking him in. He looked about, still unsure of what was amusing the mercenaries so much. He found that the fighter’s canopy could also be opened from above. He did so, the enclosure sliding backwards.
“Whatever the joke is, I don’t get it,” he called down to the four watching him.
Tyler hovered up. “Put the helmet on,” he said, with a yellow-toothed grin.
Chris found it at his feet, and, after an uncertain glance at Tyler, hesitantly slipped it over his head. At first too roomy, he felt it begin to contract and mould to fit the shape of his head. Fear welled up within him, as he wondered whether the helmet was about to crush his skull. The moulding wasn’t what caused him to rip the helmet from his head, however. That came next.
Hello, Chris, a voice came. Nice to meet you. Are you my new pilot?
Chris wrenched the helmet from his head and threw it down. “Very funny, guys,” he glared at the four who were laughing hysterically. “You tinkered with this thing and taught it a few tricks. Let me guess: it knows my height, birthday, and shoe size, right?”
“Oh no,” Tyler said, waving his cigar, “it knows a lot more than that.” He gestured for Chris to put the helmet back on.
Welcome back, Chris, the voice came again. Sorry if I startled you.
“Who the hell is saying that?” Chris asked, looking around. The four mercenaries shrugged.
“Not us,” Tyler said, puffing out a smoke ring.
Would you prefer to be called Chris, Christopher or Mr Bainfield? the voice asked.
“Who’s saying that?!” Chris demanded.
I am.
“Who is ‘I’?”
Me. The Firefly.
Realisation dawned on Chris. “The fighter?”
Yes. Although that’s not entirely accurate. I’m actually the ship’s AI.
“You’re a WEAPCO AI?” Chris interrupted.
That’s right. Well, that’s not quite true, either. I’m better than that. I’m more what you would call self-aware.
Chris felt his mouth go dry. “You’re a sentient machine?”
Yes! That was the term I was looking for. Thank you.
Chris tore the helmet off again. “It’s a sentient machine? You’ve brought me a sentient machine?!” he snarled at Tyler.
The four didn’t answer, too busy laughing again. Chris lowered the cockpit and stepped out, Dar smirking and coming over to him.
“Can you see why we didn’t want it now?” the skinny man asked.
Chris grabbed hold of him, pulling him over and slamming him onto the floor, on his back. “This isn’t what I was after!” Chris shouted at him. “The Firefly I was after isn’t supposed to have any sort of AI in it, at all! It’s meant to be piloted by a human, not a machine! That thing is useless to me! You’ve screwed me over!” He was aware that both Eve and Clayton had drawn their weapons and were training them on him, but he didn’t care.
“It is precisely what you were after, boy,” Tyler said, smoothly. “That is the fighter you directed us to, and the one we pulled out of the salvage. We brought it here as you asked and are now offering it to you.”
“That is not the ship I was after,” Chris said, turning only a little in Tyler’s direction. “This is an intelligent ship. I didn’t want that. I wanted a normal, standard fighter. Hell, I didn’t even know that WEAPCO could build something like that; something that is self-aware!”
“Neither did we,” Eve said.
Chris swore but continued to hold Dar in place. The man was still smirking.
“So, you don’t want that ship?” Tyler asked.
“No,” Chris snarled.
“Fine.” Tyler turned to Eve and Clayton. “Destroy it.”
Chris’ stomach tightened. That wasn’t what he wanted, either. “No, wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait!”
“Make up your mind, boy,” Tyler said. “Either you want it or you don’t.”
“I ... Give me some time to think about it,” Chris said, reluctantly. A fighter was still a fighter. He just had to find out if the thing’s AI was restricted to only assisting the Corporation. Maybe he could disable it somehow?
“You done?” Dar asked, before wrestling Chris’ hands from him and standing up.
Chris looked askance at Tyler. “You honestly didn’t know WEAPCO could make something like that?”
“No,” Tyler said. “First one of its type I’ve ever seen.”
“You don’t seem to be in the least bit intimidated by it,” Chris commented. He cast his eyes over the craft, seeing the cannons and missile hardpoints. He wondered why the ship hadn’t bothered to attack them or defend itself.
“It didn’t make any objections to us taking it, so I’m guessing it must be aware of the special relationship that we maintain with WEAPCO,” Tyler said, half his cigar now gone. “If that still exists, of course. Whatever the state of the relationship, the Firefly won’t be able to receive any instructions in here. This asteroid has been specially outfitted to permit only authorised transmissions in and out. If the Corporation suddenly decided to send that thing a self-destruct signal, it wouldn’t get here.”
Chris studied the Firefly some more. It looked new, fresh off the factory floor, but he couldn’t be sure. The other machines that WEAPCO employed might well have kept it in tip-top condition. But then again, constantly refreshing the paintwork and buffering out every individual ding seemed somewhat excessive.
“Why do you suppose it’s just ... sitting there?” Chris asked. “Why hasn’t it decided to leave?”
The mercenaries only shrugged in response. “Perhaps you should stick that helmet back on and find out,” Dar suggested, pointing to the lowered cockpit.
Chris mulled the suggestion over for a time before making his way back to the Firefly.
Welcome back, Chris, the smooth female voice came as he slipped the helmet back over his head. It had preserved its shape since the last time, fitting him snugly.
“How are you doing that?” Chris asked. “How are you talking to me?”
I am speaking directly into your mind, the Firefly said.
“And how did you know my name?”
I scanned your thoughts. A high level scan, I should add. Nothing to worry about. I wasn’t prying into all your personal secrets.
“Right,” Chris said. “Look, is there any way for me to switch you off?”
What? No, of course not! I am part of the ship! It would be like me asking if I could remove your brain, so that I could use your body. You would die!
Chris suppressed a sigh. So, he was stuck with it. By the sound of it, while he might be able to remove the AI, salvaging a computerless ship into anything usable would be too much effort. Still, the AI or whatever it was didn’t seem to be any kind of threat. He glanced to the mercenaries, who were studying him closely. The smirks and grins were all gone now, the four curious to see how Chris’ interaction with the ship was going to play out.
“Tell me about yourself,” Chris said to the Firef
ly. “What is your mission? What is your purpose?”
I am a proof of concept human-AI fighter interface, to be formal about it, the Firefly said. I am the first of my type. Hopefully not the last, either.
“And your mission?”
I have no mission.
“What are your orders?”
I don’t have any yet.
“Do WEAPCO control you?”
No. I am ... free.
“Interesting. So that’s why you didn’t attack us?”
There is no reason to attack you. You are of no threat to me. And what about you, Chris? Who do you work for?
“I work for myself. I was once a part of the Resistance.” Chris thought hard about supplying that last bit of information. It could cause the Firefly to react. Tyler, Eve, Dar, and Clayton were continuing to watch him closely, weapons drawn. With the Firefly speaking directly into Chris’ mind, they would be hearing just one side of the conversation. He hoped that they liked what they were hearing. With the canopy of the cockpit open, and Chris exposed, they could shoot him dead in an instant.
I wondered if you were going to tell me that, the Firefly said. It is at the forefront of your mind. You seem to want me to help you fulfil a purpose.
“Yes,” Chris said. “But we can talk about that later.”
You’re leaving?
“For now.”
Come back soon. We can get to know each other better.
Chris pulled the helmet off his head.
“Well?” Tyler asked.
“It’s safe,” Chris said, lowering the cockpit back to floor level. “It’s friendly and ... well, it seems almost a little innocent. It’s difficult to describe.”
“That’s what I thought,” Eve said. “It’s inquisitive, almost like it’s a child, asking dozens of questions.”
Tyler nodded. “So, you’re keeping it?”
“I need to do some more thinking,” Chris said.
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours. If after that you don’t want it, we’re going to pack it back into its box, shoot it out into space and blow it to pieces.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Good. And remember – no refunds. That work you did for me has no equivalent cash value. Right, get him out of here,” Tyler ordered.
Project Starfighter Page 10
