by Robin Craig
He looked pointedly at her impressive armaments. “You’d just shoot me out of the water,” he pointed out.
“I… would not,” she replied, not that it sounded convincing to either of them. “Even if you did try it… I would let you go.”
“Then your plan would fail.”
“Then I would have to find another. But I would rather not. So please simply do as I ask.”
He looked at it silently, at a loss for how to continue such a bizarre conversation. Then it spoke again.
“Man?” she said. “What is your name?”
“Javi.” He gave a short laugh edged with distaste. “I wouldn’t want to be impolite to someone like you. So what is your name?”
“Kali.”
The humor died in his voice. “I see. Appropriate, I guess.”
With that he turned to his controls, started the propeller turning low, and headed towards his crew. In short order the two men were retrieved, wetter and saltier than before but no less afraid. But they knew they had little choice but to allow their rescue. They just hoped the captain knew what in hell he was doing – not that he had any choice either.
Chapter 40 – Fire and Death
By the time the sun rose on the second day the fishing boat’s crew had settled into a mood of three parts suspicion and one part wonder. As the hours went by without the expected torture and murder, indeed not so much as discourtesy, they even added a hopeful pinch of if I survive, what stories I will be able to tell.
Part of the wonder was that Kali had overheard some of their more mundane grumbles and called the captain aside. “I cannot promise anything, Javi, but if I survive I may be able to compensate you for what I’ve cost you. Would one hundred thousand dollars suffice for my passage, the danger, and your lost fishing time?”
Javi had simply gaped at her. Having resigned himself to the idea that he was going to be executed as soon as he was no longer useful, the strange offer made no sense at all. But some calculating part of his brain finally elbowed a path to his tongue and he stammered, “A hundred thousand? Yes, yes, I think we’d be happy with that.”
He gaped more when the Spider simply bobbed its head and added, “And please use some of it to pay for the dinghy I stole.”
The crew, Andres and Sergi, even seemed to gain a strange affection for their unwanted passenger. They would sit around the cooker eating their meals and watching the metal creature sitting silently off to the side, and try to engage it in conversation. They were rough men, but not so rough that the idea of a harmlessly mad war robot did not fill them with wonder. They had a quiet side bet going as to whether her remaining circuits would fry before they reached their destination, and the nature of their homecoming bearing the shell of one of the feared Spiders on their prow. Kali knew about their bet but didn’t mind. It was not as if she didn’t harbor the same suspicions.
As Javi watched all this, his earlier mood of fatalism and suspicion slowly gave way to hope. He scolded himself that the last thing he should trust was one of the Spiders, but its unfailing friendliness, total absence of threats and the madness of its quixotic plan slowly worked on his native distrust. He even began to think that helping it might actually be good; might help end the war. Idiot. But where is the dividing line between hope and stupidity?
The sun was still not very high when Javi cut back the engines and called Kali to the front. “OK Kali,” he said, “we’re approaching the defensive perimeter. Get ready to do your stuff.” It was a clear sunny day with a few wispy high clouds; the towers of Capital rose from the sea far ahead, dimmed by distance and sea haze. He walked over to his men, who had tensed at his words, and shook their hands in turn. “If we don’t survive this – well, it’s been an honor.” They nodded solemnly and looked toward Kali. She bobbed her head. “I do not think Capital will fire on a civilian vessel outside their limits, even if there is a Spider on it. If I’m wrong – I will do what I can to save you.”
The men looked at each other with odd expressions, and Kali wondered why. It did not occur to her that their fear was more of betrayal by her than attack by Capital.
They waited silently as the boat made slow headway across an orange line on the course display. A flashing red line some miles further ahead marked the border. For a few seconds nothing happened. Then an amber light flashed on the dashboard indicating they were being scanned, followed within seconds by a green light indicating an incoming message.
“Unidentified ship! You have entered the defensive zone of the independent nation of Capital and we have detected enemy ordnance on board your vessel. Please turn back or state your business, or you will be destroyed. You have one minute to comply.”
Javi licked his suddenly dry lips, took out a flask of whiskey and downed a slug before passing it to his men. Drink this, in remembrance of us. Then Kali stepped forward and activated the microphone.
“I am the CHIRU you have detected on board the vessel. We are not approaching with hostile intent. My mission is peaceful and there are three innocent civilians on board acting under duress. Please do not fire.”
“Stop your vessel and state your peaceful mission.”
Javi cut the engines completely and the boat now rocked gently and silently on the slight swell. “My name is Kali. In accordance with the Constitution of Capital, Amendment 18, Clause 3, I claim the status of a self-aware machine and seek asylum in Capital.” Amendment 18 had been proposed and passed in the wake of the furor following the life and death of Steel, which is how Kali had learned of it. She thought her use of it a fitting tribute to the doomed pioneer.
The men’s heads swiveled as one to gape at her. She had not revealed her actual plan to them and they now realized why. If they thought she was mad before…
The delay from Capital seemed to indicate they felt the same. The delay was actually the AI instantly passing this development to its highest analytical levels, which in turn rapidly gave up and shunted it to its human overseers. Nobody knew if AIs ever felt surprise, but if they did this qualified.
A woman’s voice now spoke. “Available data indicates that Spiders are not self aware. Your claim is spurious.”
“I understand your disbelief. Nevertheless it is true. I can adduce further evidence, but it is not safe to do so here. I request provisional asylum as granted by your Constitution. I do not require full asylum, merely a safe harbor for a short time.”
“You are a dangerous war machine. The probability of hostile intent is high. Amendment 18 was not intended to allow entry by war robots fighting for active enemies of Capital.”
“Yes I am a war machine. But you are aware of my abilities and I am a lone machine, sailing openly into the teeth of your defenses. Once I am in your power you can easily destroy me if I prove a threat, while any damage I could inflict is less than my own cost. And I am no longer fighting for your enemies.”
“Who are you fighting for?”
“Myself. My life. The lives of my friends. I hope the liberation of my fellows who are enslaved in the same manner I was.”
The voice from Capital was silent. Kali spoke again. “I know your amendment was not intended for enemy war machines. Nevertheless it is broad in its scope, recognizing that the decision of what is or is not a self aware entity can be fraught with difficulty. It is designed to give the benefit of the doubt to any entity capable of claiming a right under it. I so claim that right.”
The voice remained silent for a few seconds longer then spoke with renewed urgency. “I regret to report that a fighter jet has scrambled from the nearest military airport in your country. Defense System AIs report a high probability the activity is a reaction to this conversation, which according to international law is unencrypted. Do what you can to defend yourself. We cannot fire on fighters outside our territory so are unable to help you, even if we wished to.”
Javi cursed imaginatively, but Kali had already leapt for the rubber dinghy. She swiftly cut its restraints, hurled it over the side and launche
d herself into it. She did not waste time speaking, merely sent a vague wave in the direction of the boat as she started the engine and shot away toward Capital. Perhaps she thought that if she could get far enough into their territory they would protect her – if they did not destroy her themselves.
They all knew she had no chance. It was too far, even if Capital wanted to defend her. Javi scanned the skies and in only a couple of minutes he saw the contrail of a jet high in the sky. Kali must have seen it too, for she did something unexpected. The dinghy spun around and stopped dead in the water, and Kali came out from under the shelter. Facing the jet, she stood up and unlimbered her weapons. Javi felt a chill. Their hours of peaceful coexistence had almost made him forget her true nature, but as she rode there standing tall, staring at the jet with her weapons brought to bear, the full deadliness of her struck him in the face. Then those hours came back to him, and he saw her not as a deadly machine but as one of the heroes from the old Westerns he loved, standing proud against impossible odds. Unconsciously he saluted her, though she could not have seen it.
But Kali was a machine, not a man given to noble gestures. She must also have calculated the odds as impossible, for she vanished back under the shelter, started up the dinghy’s engine and began a slow turn that arced into an accelerating race away from the boat. Then while the jet was still far away, two smaller contrails dropped from it. The dinghy made a sharp turn and shot in another direction. Perhaps Kali thought the missiles might be unguided; a slim chance but the only chance she had.
They were not. Two bright lights streaming smoke slashed down from the sky like lightning and the dinghy exploded in flame and thunder. When Javi and his men lifted their heads to look, there was nothing but a slick of burning rubber and oil to mark Kali’s last stand.
Javi looked up at the jet, now slowing and banking, coming in for a lower run. He looked at his men. “Guys, I think we should show our hero in that jet how grateful we are that he saved us loyal patriots from the rogue machine. Big grins, happy waves, OK?”
The jet skimmed down at its slowest speed, surveying the burning wreckage, examining the boat. The men laughed and cheered and waved at it. Javi’s stomach tensed as he waited for the strafing of bullets, but none came. The jet boomed overhead, waggled its wings in acknowledgement, then shot into the sky and was gone.
Javi let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and couldn’t believe he was still alive.
He looked at his men, shaking his head in wonder and relief; looked out at the last fitful flames on the water. He smiled weakly. “Juan is not going to believe what happened to his dinghy.”
He went into the bridge, looked at the displays. The ship still floated between the orange warning and red dead zones of Capital’s defensive perimeter. He looked toward its towers, wondering.
Like all people he had complexities that could take a lifetime to explore, but at heart he was a simple man, with a simple view of right and wrong. He was not used to moral dilemmas. Now was one of the rare times in his life that he faced one, and he did not know what to do.
Then he started the engine and slowly, almost reluctantly, turned the wheel. They made a slow turn and soon they were moving away from Capital, toward their home. He set the ship on autopilot and fretted. He knew time was of the essence. He would have to pre-empt the decisions about to be made, but the penalty of being wrong in his choice was mere inconvenience, while being wrong in the other direction could be fatal.
These days all ships maintained a net connection even at sea. Kali had forbidden them to use it, afraid of being betrayed or discovered. Her caution had been abundantly verified, but now he sent his wife a quick message:
Elena, sorry I’ve been out of contact. You will not believe why or what happened – but I don’t think I should tell you the details until I’m back. We’re safe but let me tell you babe, me and the guys will be tossing back a few Tequilas when we get home. We need to pay for this trip though or we’ll be in trouble. Luckily there are some big schools of fish where we are now, so we’ll fill up the hold here before we head back. Expect us in three days. Kiss the kids for me.
When he came back out the men saw a strangely disturbed expression on his face. Moral dilemmas bred uncomfortable feelings. He looked back at the towers of Capital slowly receding into the distance, then to his men.
“I’ve been thinking about why we’re still alive,” he started. “Let’s face it, given what we’ve seen I expected they’d sink us just out of habit, let alone for what we might have done – or found out by spending all that time alone with a rogue Spider.”
The men nodded slowly, muttering their agreement, and he continued. “I think we owe our lives to Capital – and Kali. They are obsessive about human rights back there and they would have been recording this whole thing. With Kali on board we were a legitimate target; collateral damage. But once she was off the boat we became unarmed civilians. If that fighter had attacked us Capital would have released the records to the world. Our beloved new government would have had a shitstorm on its hands. It would have shown the world who they really are.” He smiled wryly. “While I would dearly like the world to learn that, I would prefer not to be the lesson myself.”
He gave them time to digest that, to object or question, but nobody spoke.
“But when we get back home they’ll be waiting for us. You know it. If they wanted Kali destroyed this badly and we’re still alive, they’ll want to know everything that happened, anything she might have said to us. If we go back, God only knows if we’ll ever be seen again. But if we cut and run… well, our families are still back there. Who thinks they’ll be left alone and not taken as hostages for our return?”
The men cursed but did not disagree. They had known it; they just had not wanted to know it.
Then Javi drew himself up. “There is only one way I see to save our families and ourselves. They have to hide and we have to run to Capital. Capital will want to know our story too, but they won’t make us disappear to get it; in fact I reckon they’ll protect us to get it. But for this decision, I’m not your Captain. I’m just another man with a family. We’ll vote on it, majority rules. So what do you say? Do we warn our families and make a run for it, or go home and take our chances there with them? Take a minute to think about it, then we’ll vote.”
Andres and Sergi looked at each other and began whispering together, punctuating their points with sharp hand gestures. He watched them, battling his own inner turmoil. Everything he had said was true, but he had left out the most dangerous part of his plan. He hated to deceive his crew, but more than that he feared what they might do if they knew the full truth. For a moment he wavered in his resolve. Then he thought of the image burned into his brain, of a machine standing up to a jet screaming in to destroy it; how it had cut and run, to vanish seconds later in a searing fireball. These are times for the bold, he thought. If we fail we won’t even be a footnote in History. But if we succeed…
“Time to vote on whether we try for Capital. Who says Aye?” he said softly, putting his own hand up. The others looked at each other one last time, then first Sergi and finally Andres slowly put up their own hands. Javi nodded at them in acknowledgement and tribute. “It’s set then.”
“So how do we warn our families without the government just grabbing them?” asked Andres.
Javi smiled. “Already done.” Then he explained.
In the old days he had made some side money smuggling, before the free trade arrangements insisted upon by Capital reduced legal import costs so much it was no longer worth the effort. Then he had fought on the losing side of the war of alleged liberation. One result of his dangerous life was a set of code phrases for use in case of trouble. The message he had sent his wife could be reduced to:
Disappear now. Everyone. The crew’s families too.
The rest of the message was to reassure the authorities – and Javi was sure they were spying on their communications by now – that they were r
eturning soon, while explaining why they were not steaming straight back home. It should stay their hand long enough. The authorities would not want to grab their families too soon in case the men on the boat were warned and ran.
“Now we wait,” he finished. “But we don’t want to go too far. So let’s start fishing.”
With that, the men set to work and the boat initiated a serpentine path that brought it sweeping through the sea first away from and then back toward Capital, before turning and following a reverse course. It was a plausible fishing pattern as long as nobody was looking too closely at the yield in the nets. Half an hour later, a message appeared from his wife containing the code for ALL SAFE.
Javi had timed it well, and they were now only a few miles from where they had started. He slightly increased their speed and chewed his lip until they had come closer, then cranked the engine up to maximum, turned hard and ran for the orange zone. He did not think his government would dare try to stop him this close to Capital, not when there was no reason to think they knew anything important or were any more than troublesome rebels deciding to cut and run, but he thought the nearer he was the safer they would be. And the orange zone cut both ways. Capital was within its rights to defend civilians within it.
Again they were scanned and hailed. “You have returned. Please state your intent.”
Javi took a deep breath. The next few minutes would seal their fates. “Requesting asylum in Capital.”
“You now carry no heavy weapons and asylum is not necessary. You may enter and dock under the usual terms for visitors, which have been transmitted to your vessel. Once here you may apply for citizenship if you wish.”
“Nevertheless I apply for asylum for all on board. We have automatic weapons on board for our defense and fear being considered enemy combatants. We request safe passage and a fair hearing.”
