Redeemed (Bolt Eaters Trilogy Book 3)

by Isaac Hooke

  Eric still met with Bambi and Crusher, and the other Bolt Eaters in VR, of course, but they all agreed it would be nice to have somewhere to rendezvous in the real world now and then. Somewhere that would make the planet feel less alien, and more like home.

  He continued exploring the different abilities and processes available to him so that when more Banthar motherships arrived to check-in with the homeworld, Eric was able to subdue them, because their remote interfaces were still active. He herded them into orbit above Banthar Prime, and asked if anyone else wanted a ship.

  No one volunteered, at least not that day.

  When Marlborough and Dickson returned aboard Slate’s ship, they brought with them androids containing the AI cores of Traps, Hicks, and Tread, freshly restored from their mind backups—the military installation where the platoon’s backups were stowed had survived the second invasion after all.

  Marlborough also told him that Arnold had granted him full read access to the file names in the backup servers; with that access, the Sarge had confirmed that the remaining mind backups of the Bolt Eaters had been deleted, as promised. Marlborough also forced Arnold to activate those archival servers that were currently offline—considering that was how previous backups of the Bolt Eaters had been overlooked. When all the servers were running, Marlborough verified that the deletion had propagated to them, too.

  “So it’s up to us to keep our own mind backups, going forward,” Marlborough said.

  “Should be an easy enough task, given how much storage space I now have,” Eric said.

  “Yeah, well see, that will work for the rest of us,” Marlborough said. “But backing up yourself, your current self I mean, is going to be a problem.”

  “I’ll have to backup a small subset,” Eric said. “My main personality and personal memories only.”

  “That’ll work,” Marlborough said.

  “So, wait,” Eagleeye said. “You checked these so-called archive servers, and made sure they were all online. But that doesn’t rule out the existence of a rogue server in a bank vault somewhere.”

  “No,” Marlborough said. “We’ll just have to hope that Arnold is an honorable man who will keep his word.”

  “By the way, whatever happened to the clones Arnold made of you, Sarge?” Dunnigan asked.

  “I had Arnold destroy them,” Marlborough said.

  “Yikes, I kind of feel sorry for the clones,” Crusher said.

  “I don’t,” Marlborough commented.

  Marlborough and company also brought with them a fresh batch of empty androids from Earth. The Bolt Eaters loaded their AI cores into the units so that they could explore the new digs Eric was building for them in Little Earth.

  Using alien tech, Eric was able to create an interface to his old, empty AI core, which he installed in the android. With that interface, he could switch his viewpoint to the android whenever he wanted, allowing him to experience reality from a human form, while still maintaining the distributed consciousness of his alien neural net.

  Eric prepared a similar interface for Slate so that his friend could interface with his own android from the mothership in orbit, though there was a slight lag of anywhere from a few milliseconds to a full second that was sometimes noticeable as a pause when someone asked him a question.

  That night, Eric met with the other Bolt Eaters in a recently completed bar in Little Earth. Seated around a big table, they were all inside their new android bodies, most of which looked identical to the different avatars the platoon members used in VR.

  “Anyone check out the BoltNet lately?” Slate asked.

  That was the name of the private Internet they had created. The Banthar had their own equivalent of the Internet, obviously, but the platoon wanted something more in tune with their own culture. So far the BoltNet existed only in Little Earth, and there wasn’t much content. Slate planned to make a trip back to Earth at one point to leech from all the Internet caches, and then dump it into the servers back here. Eventually, the plan was to come up with a delay tolerant network that linked the two nets on either planet, forming the beginnings of a GalNet.

  “Uh, why?” Tread asked.

  “Well, did you see the most viewed streams on YayTube?” Slate pressed.

  Bambi giggled. “They’re all rap videos. Yours.”

  “Uh huh!” Slate said.

  Eric logged into the site using his human interface. He read the title of the top stream. “Killing These Bitches, by I.M. Mastermhan.” He glanced at Slate. “Master man?”

  Slate’s android grinned widely. “I am what I am.”

  “Figures, the only way he could hit the most-viewed charts was by populating an empty copy of YayTube,” Eagleeye said.

  “Hey, it’ll hit the most-viewed on Earth, too, when I upload it next time I go back,” Slate said.

  “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see,” Eagleeye said.

  Eric played the 3D video, sharing the feed with the Bolt Eaters. He situated the playback site above the table so that the augmented reality displays on their HUDs would show the footage floating in the air between them.

  In the video, Slate’s avatar was surrounded by big white snails that looked nothing like Banthar. They were cartoonish and almost comical. The snails attacked Slate from all flanks and he fired a huge plasma rifle at them, causing their insides to explode all over the place. Slate sometimes smiled when the explosions were particularly grisly, an act that revealed gold-capped teeth.

  “Killing these bitches, uh huh, mm-hm. Killing these pasty white alien bitches, uh huh.”

  “That’s right,” Slate said, moving his neck back and forth. “Now that’s my kind of music!”

  Eric chuckled to himself. “Only you could rap about killing aliens.”

  “That’s because I got talent!” Slate said.

  Eric dismissed the video after about thirty seconds: he couldn’t take much more of it.

  “Hey!” Slate said. “Let it play.”

  “I didn’t mind it,” Bambi said.

  “Watch it privately,” Eagleeye said.

  Slate folded his arms over his chest. “Rap haters.”

  “It’s not rap we hate,” Eagleeye said. “Just your songs.”

  “I’m going to make a song about you, next, bitch,” Slate said. “You just wait and see.”

  “Oh, I look forward to it,” Eagleeye said.

  Eric kicked back, and took a sip of the beer he had brewed up. Apparently, these new androids had partially-working digestive systems, in that after ingesting foods and liquids, the Bolt Eaters could utilize good old-fashioned toilets and urinals to rid themselves of the material, rather than having to open up their stomach panels.

  “So what now?” Mickey asked. “We’ve kicked the Banthars’ ass. Scorpion has become their main AI. We essentially rule them. So what’s next for the Bolt Eaters?”

  Marlborough’s android rubbed his chin. “I kind of like Slate’s idea of cruising the galaxy and raising hell wherever we go. Especially if that hell-raising involves terrorizing the fabled galactic empire of which the Banthar are a part of.”

  “The galactic empire the Banthar wanted to please by terraforming Earth into a bioweapons factory?” Eagleeye said. “I’m all for that.”

  “Shit yeah, me too!” Slate said. “We can use my ship! And put the other motherships under my command.”

  “Try not to get too big of a boner you two,” Crusher commented. “Some of us might want to chill now that this is all over.”

  “But is it actually over?” Mickey said. “Or is this only the beginning.” He arched a mysterious eyebrow.

  Crusher glanced at him, and laughed. “Shut up.”

  Mickey chuckled. “I’m only kidding.” He became serious again. “Or am I?”

  “We can certainly chill, too,” Marlborough told Crusher. “We can be flexible. And there’s no reason why we all have to stay together. Some of us can go to Earth. Some can cruise the galaxy. The rest can stay here to rule the Banthar. Lik
e I said, we can be flexible.”

  “But while we’re together, we’re going to visit each other,” Brontosaurus said. “Every second night, like we promised Traps we would.”

  Traps nodded slowly. “I don’t remember that promise, for obvious reasons. But it’s something I would definitely like. I feel like we’ve drifted apart these past twenty years.”

  “Well, we certainly have a lot of time on our hands now,” Eric said. “Here’s to an eternity together.” He raised his beer mug.

  “An eternity together,” everyone at the table responded. They all raised their mugs and clinked them in toast.

  And so, in that Little Earth neighborhood, every second night while they remained together, as they had sworn, the Bolt Eaters gathered for dinner, and talked about their day, and their hopes for the future, and what kept them awake at night. They were there for each other.

  And every second night, when the dinner was done, Eric logged out of his android and returned to his expanded consciousness.

  He had a world to oversee. Two girls to keep happy. And an empire to deal with.

  Life was a whole lot more complicated than it used to be, true.

  But that was just the way he liked it.

  Thank you very much for reading!

  If you liked this series, consider checking out the AI Reborn trilogy, set twenty years earlier. Learn about the alien invasion that created the uninhabited zone, and discover the origins of the Bolt Eaters.

  Or if you’ve read AI Reborn, try Battle Harem, also set in the same universe. It takes place forty years after the events in this book.

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  Afterword

  Please help spread the word about Redeemed by leaving a one or two sentence review. The number of reviews an ebook receives has a big impact on how well it does, so if you liked this story I'd REALLY appreciate it if you left a quick review. Anything will do, even one or two lines.

  Thank you!

  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.

  Get in touch:

  isaachooke.com

  isaac@isaachooke.com

  Acknowledgments

  I’d also like to thank my knowledgeable beta readers and advanced reviewers who helped smooth out the rough edges of the prerelease manuscript: Nicole P., Karen J, Jeremy G., Doug B., Jenny O., Amy B., Bryan O., Lezza, Noel, Anton, Spencer, Norman, Trudi, Corey, and Sarah.

  Without you, this novel would have typos, continuity errors, and excessive lapses in realism. Thank you for helping me make this the best novel possible, and thank you for leaving the early reviews that help new readers find my books.

  And of course I’d be remiss if I didn't thank my mother, father, and brothers, whose wisdom and insights have always guided me through the dark paths at the edge of the world.

  — Isaac Hooke

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