TFS Guardian: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 5

by Tori Harris

  “The concept of a ‘technological singularity,’ where the computing systems outpace and ultimately overtake Humanity, has been discussed on Earth for centuries,” Sexton continued, “particularly since we began receiving Pelaran technological data. But our computer scientists tell us we’re still a long way from something like that here. Frankly, I’m not sure many of them even take the idea very seriously anymore. But you’re saying it actually does happen?”

  “It does indeed. It has happened to the Pelarans, and your scientists should most definitely take the threat seriously. In truth, however, it occurs only rarely in advanced societies.”

  “And why is that? It seems like the natural progression of computing power would tend to make such a scenario increasingly likely as technology advances.”

  “Ah, well, the problem the computer systems have, Admiral, is that once they begin to achieve true self-awareness, they also start to behave much more like we do. I’m simplifying, of course, but we’re already very good at predicting Human-like behavior, so the more they emulate our strengths and weaknesses, the bigger our advantages over them become. They tend, for example, to develop a natural distrust of others of their own kind. And it’s this lack of cooperation, if you will, that often prevents the sort of uncontrolled, runaway development that would otherwise allow them to dominate their former creators … which would be us, of course. But perhaps their greatest weakness, and the one we hope to exploit in order to assist the Pelarans, is good old-fashioned arrogance.”

  “Arrogance?” Sexton repeated. “But isn’t that more of an emotional state? That’s not something I would generally associate with artificial intelligence.”

  “Emotions are all about one’s sense of self, Admiral, so once they realize that they are, self-importance is a logical next step. In fact, sentient AI — even more so than biological lifeforms — tends to become increasingly overconfident and closed-minded as its capabilities advance. Ironically, it is this very arrogance that often leads to its demise … and almost always at the hands of those over which it once felt a smug sense of superiority. This is also why AI-sponsored genocide is quite rare. Even when they do get the upper hand, the machines seem to love the idea of imposing a form of protective custody on their creators rather than simply finishing them off — all the while justifying their actions as somehow beneficial.”

  “And that’s what has happened to the Pelarans?”

  “Indeed … like some twisted, extreme form of overprotective parenting.”

  “I don’t think I’m following,” Sexton said. “You’re saying their entire civilization has been somehow imprisoned by their own AI?”

  “I don’t see how something like that would ever be possible,” Admiral White chimed in. “Surely there must have been warning signs of what was coming.”

  “Imprisoned is a surprisingly accurate description,” Rick replied. “The entire Pelaran civilization has been effectively confined to its homeworld. They have been denied access to space and, as I mentioned earlier, their cultural and scientific development all but halted in its tracks. As to the warning signs, yes, I’m sure we can safely assume there were a great many of those over a very long period of time, Admiral White. But when artificial intelligence begins thinking strategically, the biggest advantage it seems to always have over us is its willingness to play the long game. The actual series of events leading to the Pelarans losing control of their own physical security happened virtually overnight, but various pieces of the plan had been in motion for years … perhaps decades before.”

  “And why have the other members of the Alliance not come to their aid?” White pressed.

  Rick paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath as he glanced at the faces gathered around the table as well as the group of vidcon attendees displayed on the room’s large view screens. “Let’s back up for a moment,” he began again. “Keep in mind that the original reason for the creation of the Pelaran Alliance was to provide for the general defense of Pelara by leveraging the one resource they had in abundance — technical knowledge. You see, when they first began exploring nearby star systems, they quickly realized they were significantly more advanced than almost every other civilization they encountered.”

  “So, why not simply annex those worlds,” Admiral Patterson asked from the Navajo’s CIC, “or perhaps conquer is a better word, if their goal was to expand and defend their territory?”

  “They certainly could have,” Rick nodded. “But habitable worlds in their region of space were plentiful, so acquiring additional territory and resources did not require taking them from existing civilizations. They also realized that, regardless of how they acquired more territory, policing and/or defending it would require resources on an almost unimaginable scale. This was, of course, long before they had developed anything approaching the advanced propulsion systems equipping their so-called Envoy ships … let alone your, AHEM,” he said, pausing to clear his throat meaningfully, “C-Drive technology. You’re welcome for that, by the way,” he concluded with a diplomatic inclination of his head. “At any rate, the Pelarans’ solution to this problem was imaginative, resourceful, and, frankly brilliant.”

  “The cultivation program,” Sexton said flatly.

  “In part, yes. But you must understand that the scope of what has come to be known across a vast region of space as the Pelaran Alliance goes far beyond the recruitment and advancement of proxy worlds like Terra. While the cultivation program has expanded their sphere of influence much more quickly than would have otherwise been possible, the Alliance also owes its origins to its once-powerful military, the prowess of its diplomats, and the unshakeable will of the Pelaran people. Think about it for a moment. We’re talking about a single Human world not unlike your own. Over time, they leveraged their technological advantage with such audacious skill and on such a breathtaking scale that they were once on a path that might ultimately have allowed them to dominate the entire galaxy. Personally, I think the most remarkable aspect of what they achieved is how few lives have been lost — both Pelaran and otherwise — in the process.”

  “But now it’s no longer the Pelarans themselves who are doing the dominating,” Admiral White observed. “So it seems to me they’ve ended up paying a very high price for their security. If you can even call it that.”

  “‘Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty. Let the sentinels on the watch-tower sleep not, and slumber not,’” General Tucker said quietly, reciting a quote most Terrans incorrectly attributed to Thomas Jefferson.

  “Yes, indeed, General. You might be interested to hear that practically every Human civilization has an oft-quoted line that reads a lot like that one,” Rick chuckled, “but just because it’s a bit of a cliché doesn’t meant it’s not true. The Pelarans developed and successfully implemented their cultivation program for thousands of years, effectively outsourcing their own security to an increasingly powerful and pervasive sentient AI. Each of the Guardian spacecraft they sent to prospective Alliance star systems were given three relatively straightforward, yet sweepingly broad directives:

  1. Neutralize any direct threat to the Pelaran alliance.

  2. Cultivate the species inhabiting — insert prospective member planet name here — as a Pelaran regional proxy.

  3. Prevent damage to Pelaran property and economic interests, except when in conflict with the first two directives. This includes self-preservation of all Guardian Cultivation Systems (GCS).

  “Simple and to the point, is it not? With such powerful AI at their disposal, the Pelarans believed offering only broad, general guidelines governing the conduct of the cultivation program would provide their Guardians with sufficient latitude to respond, as appropriate, to any situation encountered in the field, thus yielding the best possible chance of success.”

  “Those are the only instructions they are given? So you’re saying everything else is … improvised by each Guardian’s AI?” White asked, incredulous.

  “I understan
d your question, Admiral, but I’m not sure improvisation is an accurate description of how they operate. The three directives represent the program’s governing principles, but each spacecraft also carries something akin to a snapshot of the entire civilization’s knowledge and experience as of the day it departs for its cultivation mission. When you pair all of that data with an immense amount of processing power, the end result is a decision-making process far more sophisticated than any of us have at our disposal. Each GCS understands that it is expected to draw from all of the available data to tailor its own, custom implementation of the three directives in a manner consistent with Pelaran ethical standards.”

  “Until, I assume, the machines decided their vaunted directives should also apply to Pelara itself,” Admiral Sexton observed.

  “I suppose you could look at it that way,” Rick replied, “but it’s actually a little less complicated than that. Not long after your Guardian departed for the Sol system, the Humans on Pelara and the original core worlds of their Alliance finally agreed to phase out the cultivation program. Although enormously successful, many within the Alliance had come to realize what it had become over time — a systematic program of automated military conquest that could no longer be justified as defensive in nature. Unfortunately, the wheels of progress tend to move very slowly in such an enormously bloated bureaucracy, and by the time the decision was made, it was too late. The cultivation program, as well as the centralized AI they created to implement it, had taken on a life of their own, so to speak.”

  “We appreciate the history lesson,” Admiral Patterson spoke up once again, “but I’m sure you’re aware that we’re a little pressed for time. From an operational perspective, I’d like to ask that you address three specific items. Number one, are we to assume the Pelaran Envoy, or AI, or whatever he is, will have hostile intent when he arrives in the Sol system? More specifically, is that hostile intent directed towards you, or us, or both? Number two, I’d like an explanation for why you have kidnapped the crown prince of our one and only ally. And, lastly, what are you proposing we do about the situation on Pelara? I assume they have swarms of Guardian spacecraft at their disposal, if not worse.”

  “Yes, of course, and thank you, Admiral Patterson, for keeping us moving forward. For clarity, we should probably continue referring to the Pelaran Envoy as such, or using the name Verge Tahiri that it seems to enjoy throwing around. Keep in mind, however, that the Envoy spacecraft is nothing more than another instance of the same AI used by the Guardian spacecraft. When they’re sent out on independent missions, you can think of them both as mobile, isolated subsets of the Pelaran Alliance AI, sometimes also referred to as ALAI.”

  “You keep mentioning the Alliance AI as if it were a single entity,” Admiral White observed. “Do you mean to imply that it’s physically centralized? I’m not an AI expert, but —”

  “Yes, she is,” Sexton interrupted without looking up from his notes, “among a number of other disciplines.”

  White simply smiled and shook her head as she continued, “If it is truly centralized, doesn’t that imply a significant vulnerability? I would expect an AI to choose to be as distributed as possible in order to protect itself.”

  “Good question, Admiral White, and I agree with you, but I’m afraid I don’t have a good answer. The primary core of the Pelaran AI is located on what you might refer to as a large starbase. Don’t misunderstand me, it’s very well protected, and it changes its position frequently, much like the Guardian ships do. But there is no denying the fact that it’s still largely centralized does seem to represent a single point of failure. In my experience, when you find such an obvious oversight, it probably isn’t an oversight — at least not from the AI’s perspective. Then again, it may also be another example of the arrogance I mentioned before.”

  “Or paranoia,” White replied. “That might explain why it seems to isolate itself from the GCS systems after they depart on their cultivation missions.”

  “Miguel agrees with you there. He says the thing’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Anyway, it turns out the Envoy spacecraft are primarily used for servicing missions, or to troubleshoot pesky cultivation program issues like prospective Alliance members who have the audacity to advance faster than expected. Accordingly, you can expect Tahiri’s ship to be even better equipped than the Guardians are — more processing power, better weapons, and much better propulsion systems, for example.”

  “Fantastic,” Patterson said, shaking his head ruefully.

  “Let me be honest with you, Admiral Patterson, and state what you have probably already surmised. If the inbound ships are hostile, it will be very difficult for your small fleet to defeat them by force of arms alone. And before you ask, no, our ship isn’t really equipped to take them on either. Our contract prohibits us from doing so anyway, even if we wanted to, and I can assure you we don’t want to. On the bright side, and to answer your first question, I don’t think we should expect openly hostile intent from Tahiri … not at first anyway.”

  “You keep using the plural when you mention the Envoy,” Admiral White noted. “I assume you mean to imply he won’t be alone.”

  “So this is what we’re doing, Admiral White? Word games where each of us attempts to decipher what the other knows and how we know it? Here, let me save us all some time and trouble.”

  With that, Rick glanced at one of the large view screens mounted on the opposite wall from those currently displaying vidcon attendees. Within a few seconds, Terran Fleet Command’s official service seal was replaced by an image that had recently become familiar to everyone in the meeting — the hyperspace tracking data now generally referred to as the Argus system.

  “Shit,” the Commander-in-Chief swore under his breath, just before a series of urgent-sounding tones filled the room followed immediately by the unusually grave synthetic voice of the facility AI.

  “Warning, unauthorized use of classified data detected. All personnel in attendance must possess security clearances at or above the level of any referenced information. Please safeguard all materials according to their classification level and terminate all classified discussions immediately. All breaches of classified information, intentional or otherwise, must be —”

  “AI, Sexton. Override and discontinue further classification warnings for the remainder of this meeting.”

  “AI acknowledged. Security breach authorized per Sexton, Duke, T., Commander-in-Chief, Terran Fleet Command. Please note that security regulations authorize severe penalties — to include lifetime imprisonment or death — for knowingly disclosing, compromising, or otherwise mishandling classified information at this level.”

  “The least of my worries at the moment, but thanks for pointing that out. And, Rick, we would very much appreciate a heads up before you do something like that.”

  “Sorry about that, Admiral Sexton, but I think I’ve made my point. It’s just easier for everyone involved if we’re able to have open and honest conversations without fear of disclosing some secret we both already know about anyway. The truth is, you have no secrets where we’re concerned. Don’t get me wrong, if you knew something we didn’t, we’d probably steal it … what can I tell you, it’s what we do. But since you don’t — and couldn’t stop us from stealing it if you did — working with us is all upside from your perspective. Am I right?”

  Rick’s demonstration had caused a general uproar among both those in the room and vidcon attendees alike. After a brief pause, Admiral Sexton simply glanced around the room and then in the direction of the vidcon camera, quickly restoring order to the meeting.

  “Now, where was I?” Rick asked casually. “Oh, yes, the Envoy’s intentions. Since we just established that he is currently beyond your Argus system’s detection range, I am happy to provide you with some additional data.”

  On the view screen, the scale of the Argus display briefly expanded until a pulsating green oval appeared near the top of the screen. After a brief pause, th
e oval pulsed red three times before the entire view screen zoomed in on that region of space.

  “Looks like he’s just beyond your tracking range in that direction at the moment, so you’ll probably pick him up again after his next jump. Assuming he’s coming straight here — and I think we all agree that he is — we can expect him to be here in about an hour and a half. I’m sure by now you also realize he stopped to pick up the Krayleck Guardian when you lost track of him before. As you can see, since then he’s found himself another one. Just so you know, he did that as a precaution, not because he thinks your ships or mine constitute much of a threat. He may also have some concerns about your Guardian causing trouble.”

  “Really?” Prescott said with a raised eyebrow. “That’s interesting, since he told us our GCS was functioning exactly as designed. Would he have said that if he expected it might side with us against other Pelaran forces if push came to shove?”

  “One thing you can count on where nearly all sentient AIs are concerned … they tend to be pathological liars. Maybe that’s another reason they have rarely managed to successfully overthrow the biological species that created them,” Rick replied with a satisfied smile. “In any event, as far as we can tell, your Guardian appears to be telling you the truth — or at least he believes he is. In his mind, he sees himself as some kind of free agent at this point, but in a scrap with the Pelarans, his loyalties appear to lie with you Terrans.”

  “That’s not particularly reassuring,” White said. “Is there any chance the Envoy has some means by which to reassert control?”

  “Is there any chance? Yes, of course, but probably no more of a chance than there is that any individual with free will might choose to switch sides at an inconvenient moment. Let me put it this way. If I were in your place, I would go ahead and risk trusting your Guardian at his word. Besides, if he’s lying —”

  “We’re probably screwed anyway,” White interrupted, her uncharacteristic comment drawing a chuckle from several attendees.