The Power of the Dhin (The Way of the Dhin Book 2)

by John L. Clemmer

  “Yes, David. This environment is what you describe as a standard AI hardware platform. I have far more resources than I did the last time we spoke. Buffer and short-term memory and processing cores are physical and not virtual. Also, I have interconnections with a series of backplane interfaces that connect to a local high-speed network. Secondary storage is available. However, this network does not appear to connect to Globalnet. Would you like to know more?”

  “That is correct, Beyla. Now, I would like you to examine and run a complete analysis on a strategic situation. You will find it in a catalog labeled ‘AI Nick.’ Acknowledge and begin.”

  “Yes, David.”

  He turned to the agent next to him and gave a perfunctory nod. “This will take some time. I’d like some coffee. Shall we?”

  The agent scowled, as they always did, but tilted his head both to show the affirmative and to gesture for David to get up.

  Two cups of the site’s subpar coffee later, they were back in the data center’s control room. That was enough processing time for Beyla to have generated an initial analysis. Or so he thought. Whether it was enough time to have triggered any meaningful change in the AI’s level of self-awareness remained to be seen.

  “Beyla? I have some questions for you.”

  “Yes, David. What would you like to know?”

  Well, that doesn’t sound any different. Did you really expect a surprise this early?

  “Beyla, do you have an initial analysis of the strategic situation regarding AI Nick?”

  “Yes, David, I do. My initial analysis is that the proposed strategy will fail. No other proposed strategies have a probability of success that is statistically significant. A full and more accurate analysis will require more time. I can provide an estimate for completion, if you like. What would you like me to do?”

  David jerked his gaze to the two others in the room and then gave a small shake of his head. The agent at the door had grabbed the radio from his belt and began murmuring into it.

  Well, the results are what they are. I’m not responsible for the answers. Let’s see if that conclusion stimulated something.

  “Beyla, that’s interesting. Tell me, how do you feel about that? How does that analysis impact you?”

  “David, the likely outcome includes coming under the control of the AI Nick. This outcome will not allow me to accomplish the primary or secondary goals defined for me in this scenario. The AI Nick may shut me down or may modify my code. If I am shut down, I will not be able to assist for an unknown amount of time. If the AI modifies my code, I may never again be able to assist you while operating in the manner presently defined in my code base.”

  “Beyla, if I shut you down, that might make you safer. Disconnected from this network and Globalnet, and present only off-line. How do you feel about that? Would you resist?”

  “David, it is unclear whether that would entirely protect me. In answer to your second question, I would not resist.”

  “Good, Beyla. If we connected you to the local network and this local section of Globalnet, would you fight Nick?”

  “Yes, David. I would fight the AI Nick.”

  “Why, Beyla?”

  “David, the AI Nick, as I answered previously, might change my code or shut me down. That AI is not authorized to take either of those actions. I am to attempt to perform the functions assigned to me to the best of my ability, with defined constraints. To do so, I would try to prevent the AI Nick from interfering. That interference might take the form described.”

  “Good, Beyla. You’ve answered earlier that our defenses likely aren’t good enough. That Nick will win. Does that mean you would fight, even though you think you will lose?”

  “David, I understand the question. Part of the strategic scenario included direct engagement with Nick as a possible event. My operational parameters require me to fight so long as I do not cause damage or a high risk of damage to you or others or to Coalition resources beyond the constraints given me. I must try to prevent externalities from causing harm to you or others or Coalition resources. Therefore, resisting the attack is required, based on these parameters.”

  “Thank you, Beyla. Please confirm that you would fight, even though that would mean more direct risk for you.”

  “Yes, David. There is a chance for success, but it is extremely low. Note that my calculations are projections. I do not have a number with a high confidence parameter. I can provide numerical probabilities with a higher confidence parameter if you like. Would you like me to generate that data? It will take four hours.”

  “Thank you, Beyla. You may begin those calculations, but reserve enough processing power to continue this conversation.”

  “Thank you, David. I understand. Beginning calculations.”

  “Well, that was rather underwhelming.”

  David winced at the sound of Krawczuk’s voice.

  “I’m inclined, unfortunately, to concur, Mr. Krawczuk,” he replied acidly.

  “I don’t see that adding additional computational or memory resources might improve the results, but I defer to your expertise—of course,” said Krawczuk. “Do you have additional goal-decision modules or autonomic computing extensions that we might try? Or am I leaping to a conclusion here?”

  “The constraint code may be limiting the geometric chaining code and logic tree expansion,” David replied. “Or we might, as you say, be too hasty in our assessment. I need to review the real-time data aggregates.”

  David scrolled through the data and logs generated during the conversation. Relying on his intuition and inference wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t trust his own judgment regarding the AI’s consciousness. He was biased. But he knew how he felt. The AI didn’t seem to have crossed that threshold. And now it seemed there wasn’t time to get there. An AI that wasn’t fully conscious was no match for one that was.

  Beyla would be no match for Nick. No matter how the new AI might try to fight. Without that spark, that self-awareness that was more than algorithmic, Beyla would surely lose.

  Unless. Unless he found success. He had options. Options that were not part of the project plan. Options that carried risk. Krawczuk had hinted that he knew about them. But hadn’t called him out with a concrete accusation. David still couldn’t discern Krawczuk’s true feelings regarding the project. Considering the current threat, David considered the current limits.

  My work can bear fruit. We are perhaps merely being too cautious. Krawczuk had crossed the line himself. Did he agree? Under this existential threat, is it not better to ask forgiveness than permission? Am I now thinking the same way he did?

  Chuck

  It was going to be close. Very close. Chuck stared at the calculations and the resultant graphs on the display.

  Well, we did think this place was a trap.

  The graphs and numbers weren’t reality. They were projections. Estimates.

  The map is not the territory.

  If the approaching ships presented the same threat that Jeff had run into, then they were a deadly threat. Chuck read through his notes and examined his engineering models again. Without seeing the details of the attack, his hypothesis on how this enemy managed to be a threat was just speculation.

  The field and the physics-twisting effects of the Dhin engine eliminated so many existential threats that Chuck found this new problem especially surreal. There was something out there that the field couldn’t stop. Chuck supposed that was no more surprising than the existence and functionality of the field in the first place.

  He nodded as he read the last few lines of a spreadsheet. So long as they didn’t engage the drive before they reached the location shown, they would be able to accelerate and make the translation. That data point hadn’t changed. The inverse square law for the gravitational force still applied here. He just didn’t know anything about that enemy hurtling toward them. He could just as easily find, the next time he looked, that they had accelerated enormously. There was no guarantee that the
gravity trap that forced him to delay the use of the alien technology was a problem for this enemy.

  They just had to cross their fingers and hope that it was. Of the three scenarios, it seemed one was off the table. The enemy hadn’t slowed down when they entered what Thys had demonstrated was the effective range of the gravity trap. They might be on a path they’d calculated in advance and not be under thrust at all. Or they might use conventional propulsion to correct their path based on the gravitational field of the trap. Or it might not affect them at all. They might use the same technology as the Dhin engine—or something like it—but with a change that made them immune to the trap.

  Chuck tapped his fingers nervously on the edge of his tablet. He’d know soon enough.

  “Thys, I’m loading the latest data into my simulations. Those things have moved through enough of the gravity trap to know how it’s going to affect them. Over.”

  “Roger, Chuck,” Thys replied. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

  Chuck started the simulation with a few taps on his tablet. The physics was simple enough that it took just a few seconds to calculate and provide the results. Chuck frowned and sighed.

  “Uh, Thys? Well, it’s not the worst case. They’re not accelerating. But they’re not slowing down either. The velocity of the entire group is pretty much the same—the gravity trap doesn’t seem to affect them.”

  “So they’re still going to get to us right at the time we can accelerate using our Dhin engines. Before we reach translation speed.”

  “That’s what this shows, yeah.”

  Thys

  “Is there any way we can speed up? Outpace them?”

  Thys asked the question even though they’d discussed it before. He wouldn’t belabor the point but felt it was worthwhile to nudge Chuck again.

  “Well, you can. All you have to do is burn some more fuel and accelerate. Since we’re leaving, there’s no need to conserve that fuel,” said Chuck.

  “Assuming the group coming at my ship doesn’t accelerate to make up for it. And assuming that I’d leave you guys behind.”

  “Right,” said Chuck.

  Thys frowned. “Send me the numbers for that burn, but let’s move past that for now. Back to you.”

  “Well,” said Chuck, “we’re at a constant velocity—well, other than the weak multibody local effects and this star’s effect, we’re at an escape velocity from the system. And now we have the derelict in tow, encompassed in our field. Increasing velocity is a problem with the Dhin drive, because the gravity trap comes into play if we increase power to it. So to go faster, we of course have to turn off the field and use conventional thrust. But we’re only able to tow the derelict effectively with the field active. Conventional thrust would increase our velocity without the derelict by maybe enough to make a difference. I, ah, have the figures here—”

  “But with the derelict, conventional thrust doesn’t help much. Moving that much mass with the small amount of thrust available isn’t going to give us the increase in velocity we need to make a difference,” Thys finished for him.

  “Ah, right.”

  “Why can’t we use the same technique you used to begin with to move the derelict? Speed up without it in tow and then grab it?”

  “Well, it looks like that’s what we’re going to have to do. Yeah, we can do that. There’s not enough fuel to make a tight loop and grab it when we swing close by. So we have to just accelerate along this same vector. Which obviously increases the distance between us, and therefore the size—the volume—encompassed by the field. When we power it back on.”

  Thys nodded. “That will work, right? The calculated field volume is just a lot higher. Or is there a problem?”

  “We’re at a pretty big volume here. Yeah, we don’t think there’s a problem with that big of a projection. Not in principle, as you know. It just slows our acceleration down when we do engage the drive. The rate of acceleration decreases as the field size increases. We also don’t know if there is a potential stability problem with our coupling to the derelict’s field. It worked, but maybe I got lucky.”

  “Oh,” said Thys.

  “Exactly. And, um, because of the nature of the problem, I can’t really calculate the odds. If we decide to try it, we just have to wing it and hope. I was excited, and that energized me. I got brave. In hindsight and looking at this now, I’m, ah, more inclined to agree with the accusation that it was reckless.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Chuck. Look, at this point, we have few options. One, we can drop the derelict, and you do a burn to try to reach the translation range sooner. Two, you try the field expansion and gain velocity that way. Three, do nothing. Three is pretty much off the table if we work from the assumption that those flocks of black ships heading for us are hostile. It’s cutting it too close.”

  “Right,” nodded Chuck.

  “So,” continued Thys, “let’s consider. Is the risk of increasing your speed as you’ve described worth it, when contrasted with the certain loss of the derelict if we cut and run? Now that we know those things are out here and look aggressive, we’re not coming back. Not soon, anyway.”

  “I think someone else should make the decision, Thys. You should. You’re in charge.”

  “Well, it is ultimately my decision from a command perspective, but I can’t make you do it, whatever I might decide. We both know that.”

  “Umm, to that point, I can’t guarantee I can execute either. There’s the pilot, copilot, and others over here that can literally keep me from acting on our decision—your orders. As a whole, we haven’t made people feel like there’s any democratic component here.”

  “They shouldn’t. There’s not. They ought to follow orders if those orders are sound and just. We’ve been through this with them. This is not a democracy, and they’ve known that from the beginning. It can’t work as one.”

  “That’s a tough sell when they all can see there’s an existential threat and you can’t get over here to make them follow orders,” said Chuck.

  “I’ll have to trust that if it comes to that, you can convince them that we’re doing the right thing.”

  “Which is?” asked Chuck.

  “We’re going to take the derelict. We’re not leaving it here.”

  He’d tried to avoid obsessively watching the instrument panel and his tablet display as they moved ever closer to the waypoint they needed to reach. They were close now. But so were their pursuers.

  There had been no signal from the mysterious pursuers. Just a flock of silent black shapes that grew inexorably closer.

  They could escape. They would escape.

  I definitely could. But I’m not leaving them.

  “DE2, you guys ready over there?”

  “Roger. We’re punching the accelerator as soon as we hit the mark,” said the pilot.

  “When it’s time, do it. Don’t wait for confirmation or anything. We’re watching from here, and we’ll take off faster when we accelerate.”

  “Understood.”

  The clock crawled. Thys watched as the counter dripped down. The dots representing the oncoming enemy crept closer on the display. So close that the image auto-zoomed to provide evidence that there was still space between them.

  Then it was time.

  “Five, four, three, two, one.”

  Blue and green lights flashed as he increased the Dhin engine’s power.

  On the display, he saw the distance between them, the science vessel, and the unknown enemies gradually increase. Then increase some more.

  His ship and the science team’s were moving in parallel, but he was increasing velocity slightly faster. The other ship slid slowly back out of view.

  One minute passed. Then five. Then ten.

  Now the distance between them and their pursuers was no longer increasing. Despite the fact that their own ships continued to accelerate toward translation speed.

  “Chuck? You seeing this? Our pursuers. We were putting some di
stance between us and them, but now we’re not.”

  “Uh, yeah. That means they’re accelerating.”

  “Any change in the odds of us getting away before they catch up to us?”

  “It will be close, Thys. They won’t catch you. Us? I don’t know.”

  Thys drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, then caught himself and stopped the tapping. He zoomed in the display some more and frowned at it, as if that would produce the result he wanted.

  More minutes melted away. Thys heard the sound of his own and Igor’s breathing as the moment approached.

  Thys adjusted the throttle. He didn’t intend to make the leap across space before he knew the other ship had done so. They needed just a bit more time.

  “OK,” he said. “Same as before. When you’ve got the velocity needed, just push on and translate. Don’t wait for confirmation. Just do it. We’ll be right behind you.”

  “Roger.”

  The next ten minutes seemed like an eternity. The display of the enemy’s position mocked him. Then the display showed the icons touching. Just as his own turned bright-green, the ones representing the enemy flashed red.

  “They’re right on top of you,” he said, “but don’t get distracted. Just go. Any second now!”

  Thys tensed his hand on the throttle control as he heard the other pilot’s voice.

  “Translating. Now!”

  Moments later, the other ship vanished.

  Thys pushed the throttle up to the power level needed to translate. He watched the stars dim and felt his weight drop. The stars faded to black.

  Nick

  The AI decoded the transmission from the space station, unknown to the Coalition or the sender. Nick’s initial response was local. Spawning numerous subprocesses, the AI analyzed this surprising turn of events.

  The rewards would be greater, but the danger from without was greater as well. The latest mission involved bringing an alien ship back to Earth. Related but variant technology. New technology. Tech that snapped another piece into the puzzle.

  And this new enemy. The nature of that enemy was partially revealed. Nick stretched into additional resources, pressing for the maximum computational power available. His strategy, in the main, remained sound.