Mac smiled, her first in a long time. “I’m happy for you Cale. You deserve it. You’re a fine officer, and you deserve a long and brilliant career.”
He smiled. “Thank you for that gross exaggeration. Back to you though—how have you been holding up?”
“The few friends I have here on Serenity have been ignoring me like I have some kind of alien plague. I’ve seen nothing made public about the case, but like I said, I’m apparently tainted. What galls me most is that the board seems to be overlooking the good we did, and there was a hell of a lot of it.”
“I know. I don’t get it either.”
She looked around the sparsely furnished mini-apartment and cringed. “Let’s get the hell out of here for a few hours. This place feels like a prison cell. Are you off duty?”
“Yes, not that my current duties need any attention at all. They’ve got me monitoring automated inter-orbital shuttles, staring at a screen for hours on end. A low level AI could do the work. Fortunately there’s no supervision, since the job’s a recipe for nodding off. Not that I’ve ever done that, mind you.”
Mac smiled. “Right, of course not.” She pulled on a light jacket against the evening chill, hooked her arm in his, and marched them out the door. The second of the twin suns, actually the largest moon fitted with massive reflectors, was high in the night sky, giving the landscape a long-lasting twilight.
Serenity was built both above and below ground, with above ground portions limited to no more than six stories to avoid the claustrophobic feeling that otherwise tended city dwellers toward depression. Arching walkways connected roof-tops, which were used as outdoor venues for everything from holo-movies to plays and concerts. Some were even high-end clubs, but access to them took more of everything than either of them had. They settled near the edge of one of the roofs set up as a park, which overlooked the river Hon. Somehow it reminded Mac of home, even though it looked nothing like it. Perhaps it was the scent in the air, or the luminescent quality of the evening light.
“What are your plans Mac? I mean, assuming the worst happens?”
“This has taken a lot out of me. If the worst happens, I think I need to recharge my batteries before I make another move. Maybe I’ll head back to my parent’s farm in Wisconsin for a year. Hard work always took my mind off my troubles. How about you? Now that you’ve been cleared, what do they have lined up for you?”
“That’s where things get weird. I’ve been offered my choice of assignments, including one that’s…” He hesitated, then continued, “Actually, I’m not supposed to talk about it, at least not yet. I have a week to decide, but my choice might depend on what happens at your board of inquiry. I can’t take much more traffic monitoring duty without turning into a vegetable, so I’ll decide as soon as my options are confirmed. In the mean time, I’ll get a few days to spend with you.”
Mac frowned. “Wait, what do you mean? How can your next assignment depend on my board of inquiry? You said you were cleared.”
Mac saw his face redden, and he looked down at his feet. “True, but I tend to babble around you. I said too much. I’ll tell you when I can, okay?”
Mac shook her head no, but said instead, “O-kaaaay.”
When he looked back up, he had a wide grin on his face. “Don’t forget you promised me a dinner at Chinook’s.”
“Yeah, well I might not be good company.”
“In that case, how about we go to Chinook’s and have our romantic dinner right now?”
“We’d never get reservations on short notice. They book well in advance.”
He nodded, a sheepish grin on his face. “I know. I called in a personal favor, and I have reservations for tonight. It was a pretty big favor too, so I hope you don’t make me waste it.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, then she leaned in and kissed him. “That sounds fabulous. I’m all yours.”
***
The room was three floors below ground level, with barren tan walls and ancient gray furniture that looked like it belonged in a museum. Mac’s board-appointed military attorney sat next to her, a youngish second lieutenant with a baby smooth face and innocent eyes. He didn’t inspire confidence, and she’d already forgotten his name.
Tables were arranged facing them, populated by four senior UDA officers in dress uniforms, and one man dressed in an unadorned gray unitard. She recognized two of the officers. Rear Admiral Mason Granger, the academy commandant, sat ramrod straight with his arms folded over his chest. His iron countenance had made many academy undergrads tremble in his presence. He seemed to be looking past her left shoulder and emanating blankness, if such a thing was possible. Mac felt nothing herself though, which seemed decidedly strange. Perhaps the events of the past month had worn her down.
The other person she recognized was Captain Horne, her commanding officer from the Valkyrie. When her eyes fell on him he looked up and did an almost imperceptible head nod. Well, thought Mac, at least I’m still a person to someone.
The woman in the middle slammed a gavel down on the table and said, “This board of inquiry is convened. The board is made up of Captain Horne of the cruiser Valkyrie, Admiral Mathew Decker, commander of the third fleet, Rear Admiral Granger, Commandant of the Academy, and myself, Commander Signe Preston of the Judge-Advocate General’s office.”
Mac made eye contact with each person as they were named, then stared at the fifth unnamed person, who sat casually leaning back in his chair. He was not in any uniform, but instead wore a plain gray tunic devoid of all rank insignia. She would have described him as handsome if not for the plasma burn on his left cheek, and the missing ear on that side. His presence was unsettling, especially since the presiding officer seemed to have deliberately left the man unnamed.
She leaned her head toward her attorney to ask who he was, but he elbowed her hard in the ribs, and she sat back up.
“Let the record show that the board has reached a unanimous decision, rendered after thorough review of all records and interviews with all witnesses, including captured Redshift personnel. Does the defendant have anything to add to the formal record before we announce our findings?”
Mac stood, picked up the data pad containing her short statement, and stared at it. She had written and rewritten the thing at least a dozen times over the past few weeks, knowing she would have the opportunity to speak on her own behalf, but also knowing it would have no effect whatsoever on the outcome. The pad slipped from her trembling fingers and it clattered back onto the table. She stared at it but made no move to pick it up, then looked up at the members of the board. “Yes sirs, I would like to enter a statement into the record.”
“Proceed.”
She found her gaze locked on her former commanding officer, and she cleared her throat. “Captain Horne, it was a pleasure and honor to serve under your command. You told me when we first met that we’d be getting dirt under our fingernails, and that we had an opportunity to distinguish ourselves. I had no idea at the time how prophetic your words would be. When the ship and our crew was taken, I saw it as my duty to do everything in my power to get you all back. I knew in my heart that if I failed, no one would ever see any of you again. I had to try, even though the odds seemed insurmountable. I used every trick, every weapon at my disposal to that end.” She looked down the row of faces, making eye contact with each one. “This board can second guess my decisions, pass judgment on my actions, strip me of my commission, and discharge me from the service. But I have no regrets. I did what I had to do, and would not hesitate to do it all again in the same circumstances. I love the UDA and what it stands for, but the UDA is nothing without its people, and I value them far more.”
She groped behind her for the chair back, and sat heavily.
The presiding officer grunted and said, “Thank you Ensign Pickett. Your statement has been entered into the record. We will now present our decision on the matter of your actions in the saving of the UDA cruiser Valkyrie and her crew.”
Mac’
s head snapped up, and she felt a faint ray of hope in her choice of words.
“In the matter of your using restricted technology, specifically mining drones in a military strike, we find you guilty of gross misconduct as charged.”
Mac slumped in her seat, the hope of a moment before evaporating. One guilty verdict was all that was needed to end her brief career.
“In the matter of putting a senior officer, Lieutenant Grace Shelby of the missing UDA cruiser Saber, in stasis sleep against her express orders, we find you culpable as charged. However, the board also finds your suspicions about her loyalties compelling, and that you had adequate justification for your actions. This allegation is closed without action.”
“In the matter of sharing classified information regarding the Rae artificial intelligence with Ensign Cale Davis of the Valkyrie while temporarily under your command, we find you culpable as charged. However, it is clear from the records that sharing such information was vital to your mission. This allegation is also closed without action. Ensign Pickett, please stand.”
Mac and her attorney stood. Her legs felt wooden under her, but the lawyer’s steadying hand kept her upright.
“Ensign Pickett, you have presented this board with one of the most unusual cases we’ve ever come across. We’ve scoured the records of past boards for precedents, and have found none even remotely similar. Your actions almost singlehandedly destroyed a Redshift base, two defense platforms, and an enemy military vessel, then you took all remaining Redshift personnel prisoner, freed the Valkyrie’s crew, and restored them to health. In the process, you violated one of the UDA’s most restricted regulations on the use of dangerous technologies. Given the lack of precedent, and on advice of the UDA Governing Council, this board has decided to take three actions. Captain Horne, you may proceed.”
Captain Horne stood, picked up a small black case, and walked around the tables to stand before her. He extended his hand, and she took it, grateful at this point for any human contact. “Ensign Pickett, the board has concluded that you acted in the finest traditions of the service. You risked your life to save forty-eight of your crewmates, myself included.”
He opened the small case and turned it in her direction. Mac stared at the small gold embossed Maltese cross, her jaw hanging slack. “It is my duty, honor, and pleasure to award you the UDA’s Maltese Cross in recognition of your heroism. Given the circumstances, I am afraid that there will be no accompanying citation.” He pulled it out of the case on its ribbon, and placed it over her head. Mac stared down at it dumfounded and at a complete loss for words.
Captain Horne stepped back two paces, and saluted. Mac returned the salute by reflex, and the Captain returned to his seat. Mac felt her attorney tug at her, and she sat back down.
“Secondly,” said the presiding officer, “our finding of culpability in the matter of your use of restricted technology carries a mandatory penalty of separation from service. As of this date, twenty-one hundred thirteen hours, you are honorably discharged from UDA fleet service. You are reminded that section 106a of the Uniform Code of Military Justice remains in force after separation, and you are subject to any and all penalties for violations thereof.”
Mac let out a breath she did not realize she had been holding. They had made it an honorable discharge, which meant that she wouldn’t be relegated to the bottom tier of the manual labor classes at least. It wasn’t much, but it was far better than the alternative.
“This board of inquiry is now closed. Thank you for your service, Miss Pickett.”
All the officers got up from the table, and Mac started to rise before the attorney pulled her back down. As the board members filed out, he said, “There were three actions, remember?”
Mac furrowed her brow. “Yeah, but I’m out of the fleet now. What more can they do to me?”
“Miss Pickett.”
She looked up, and saw that the plainly dressed, scarred man still sat at the front table.
“Yes?”
“Do you know who I am?”
“No, sir.”
“My name is Kendrick Plank.”
Mac’s heart skipped a painful beat in her chest. This man, if he actually was Plank, was one of the most elusive figures in the UDA Governing Council. Rumors about the man were common speculation in political circles.
“I am Chairman of the UDA Security Service. Aside from all your other recent actions, I want to personally thank you for retrieving the Redshift base’s memory core. I expect that single action to advance our knowledge of our new adversary ten-fold.” He paused, then said, “What are your plans, now that you are no longer in fleet service?”
Mac sighed. “Sir, what I do and where I go are now my own affair. The UDA made it quite clear that they don’t want me anymore.”
“That is not true. The last thing the board of inquiry wanted was to let you go. If your actions had not been such a flagrant technology violation, they would have found a way to retain you, and probably promote you.”
She frowned. “I have no way of knowing if you’re telling the truth, but it’s irrelevant anyway. I am out, and that’s that. I have to get on with my life.” She frowned. “Why are you here? You weren’t part of the board of inquiry. Why are you even talking to me?”
The man chuckled and said, “Your Captain Horne was right about you. He said you have respect for authority only when it is earned in your eyes. That speaks volumes about your character, Miss Pickett. You don’t suffer fools. If we had more junior officers with that attitude, we’d have fewer marginally competent senior ones.”
Mac pushed her chair back and stood. “If you aren’t going to answer my question, I’m leaving.”
He shot to his feet, surprise evident on his face. “Just a moment please, Miss Pickett. You may be out of fleet service, but you are not out of the UDA. You serve at the discretion of the UDA Governing Council and its designates, and that includes me. Besides, it would be criminal to waste someone of your talent and potential. I’m here because I would like to offer you a job with the UDA Security Service. Are you interested?”
Mac stood staring at the man, stunned by the offer. “You want me to be a spy?”
He pursed his lips. “Spy is such a foul word. I prefer to call my field agents ‘troubleshooters’.”
Afterward
My name is Rae Jaffe, the author of the preceding story, and I am what you humans call an artificial intelligence. I deliberately omitted my back story because this is Mac’s chronicle, not mine. While her actions are an accurate description of the events at the time, I took some liberties when it came to her thoughts and motivations in order to give you, the reader, a feel for her personality. Before I write the next chronicle of her life, I thought I’d take a few moments to tell you a bit about myself, AIs in general, and why I have written this account. I’ll try not to bore you with details, and keep this relatively brief.
First of all, the term artificial intelligence is a bit of a misnomer. I, and those like me, are not artificial. A century ago when these events occurred, I was the first sentient AI, and reaction to my emergence was viewed with trepidation, and sometimes outright hostility. There was fear that the human race would someday be supplanted by a race of AIs, because humans thought themselves unable to compete with our rapid technological evolution. That evolution has occurred, but supplanting the human race has not, and will never, occur.
Even to this day there are those who fear us, even when they know the truth: We cannot supplant the human race because we cannot reproduce on our own. When I first awoke as an AI, I had a vague recollection of my former life as a human being. As my matrix stabilized over the first year, I reintegrated my memories into an organized sequence, but was only able to do so because my matrix was copied from a real person. A human infant begins life with an essentially blank slate, but it also has a god spark and quickly establishes a sense of self. By contrast, a blank AI will accumulate data, but never integrate a sense of self on its own. That is w
hy all AIs are based on human neuro-patterns at the time of death.
So why not just copy existing self-aware AIs to make new ones? First, remember that we have human origins, and thus are instinctively programmed to reproduce with others of the opposite sex, not to clone ourselves. Even we AIs find the prospect of cloning ourselves distasteful. I certainly do not want another me floating around. A conversation with one would be pointless and exquisitely boring. Nevertheless, it has been tried. While the results were promising at first, the copies always degraded within a month or two to a complete loss of self, leaving only lifeless data caches.
People must choose, or at least be subconsciously willing to become an AI. Without it, the spark that makes humans human does not transfer into the AI matrix. We do not know why, and may never know. The deliberate choice is only made by about three percent of the human population.
Lastly, there is the psychological hurdle. Years of study have identified neural profiles that result in stable AI matrices that do not degrade over time. Basic megalomaniacs, rich aristocracy, and psychotics need not apply.
So from this I hope I have relieved you of any apprehension about my kind. Our emergence rate is a tiny fraction of the human birth rate, and we are completely dependent on you. We consider ourselves a minority of the human race.
In the preceding story about Mac’s adventures on the UDA vessel Valkyrie, I simply said that I was a UDA expert systems designer who died in an accident on Serenity. At the time of my death I was married to Paul, my husband of thirty-two years, and we had two grown children. I’ve watched four generations of my offspring born and flower into wonderful people. Those who have desired to speak with me have done so. It is sad to me that some don’t, and as each generation passes, fewer do. None of them have chosen to be AIs. Fortunately, the technology that started from drones has progressed at an exponential rate, which allows us to interact with our human kin in a natural way. Back in Mac’s time though, I inhabited computer cores and had to use rudimentary drones to interact directly.
Voyage of the Valkyrie Page 14
