A.I. Battle Station (The A.I. Series Book 4)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Oh?” he asked.

  “Is it right to throw our lives away on a longshot?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “In fact, yes, I do.”

  Benz raised his eyebrows as he turned to his woman. It surprised him to see her taut features. She even seemed a little pale.

  “Are you feeling well?” Benz asked.

  “I’ve never felt fitter,” Vela almost snapped. She smiled softly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…bite your head off.”

  Benz frowned. The way Vela had just said that…had sounded as if…he wasn’t sure what it had sounded like, just not her.

  “Well?” he asked. “What’s your new plan?”

  “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it,” she said.

  He snorted.

  Vela took a longer breath than normal, chewed on her lower lip and rubbed the back of her head.

  Benz had never seen her make the last gesture before.

  She glanced at him, almost as if suspicious. She rubbed the back of her head again.

  “Premier Benz—”

  Benz was startled by the use of his title. He couldn’t remember when Vela had used it before while they were alone. He didn’t say anything about it, though, and he hid his surprise.

  “I have begun to ponder our situation,” Vela continued. “We are attempting to attack the AIs on our own. That seems…preposterous in our native arrogance. Who are we to do this when better nations have failed miserably?”

  “Go on,” Benz said.

  “I deem this as the better course. Let us begin hunting star systems until we find extraterrestrial resisters. Let us supply these resisters with AI technology and enlist them in a joint effort against the machines.”

  “Hmm…” Benz said.

  “We must unite,” Vela said. “We must seek superior wisdom and intellect to our own vain pretentions. We are little better than apes, monkeys screaming at alpha predators. Let us seek these extraterrestrials—”

  “Do you have any specific place in mind?” Benz asked, interrupting.

  Vela scoffed. “How could I know of a place?”

  “Perhaps intuition could help in this instance,” Benz said.

  “Ah. Yes. The famous intuition,” Vela said. “Let me conjugate.” She made a strange clicking sound with her mouth. “I have it. Perhaps we should go—” she glanced at Benz.

  He nodded encouragingly.

  Vela made several swift adjustments to the holographic display.

  “Perhaps we could go here,” she said, using a highlighter to indicate a star system.

  Benz checked the distance to the new location.

  “The system is twelve point four light-years away from our present location,” he said.

  “A mere two weeks of travel,” Vela said.

  “What about the data packet that escaped from the Nathan Graham?” Benz asked. “Once the packet reaches the battle station, surely the AI will send cyberships to Earth. If the battle station AI doesn’t do that right away, that probably means the AIs are going to gather a vast armada before they hit the Solar System again. If we don’t defeat the battle station fast, we’re dooming the rest of humanity to extinction.”

  “A bitter loss, to be sure,” Vela said. “Yet, I deem victory over the AIs to be even more important. Perhaps the apish creatures will survive in great enough numbers to repopulate their shattered star system.”

  “Oh…” Benz said blandly. “I hadn’t thought of that. Say,” he said, as if thinking of something new. “Are you hungry?”

  “Pardon?”

  Benz rubbed his stomach and smacked his lips.

  “Hungry,” he said. “I’m famished. Let me get a bite to eat and come right back. You keep checking distances. I’m intrigued by your proposal.”

  “I will compute distances and travel time,” Vela said, “while you grub for something to ingest.”

  Benz nodded while keeping his features and thoughts as bland as possible. Finally, he exited the hatch and continued to move at a leisurely pace. Finally, once he believed he was far enough away, Benz broke into a sprint for the main laboratory.

  -8-

  “Right here, Premier,” the chief scientist replied.

  She was a short woman of dark complexion. She indicated a silver helmet with various wires and loops on top and with cheek and nasal guards. In the back of the helmet was a small box with batteries attached.

  “You press that switch to turn it on,” the scientist said. “It’s incomplete—”

  “How is it incomplete?” Benz asked, interrupting.

  The scientist made a self-deprecating gesture.

  “Premier, you surely must understand that the Vice Premier constructed it while you were unconscious. She had these suspicions… Well, I don’t need to go into it, do I?”

  “Just so,” Benz said. “This is mere curiosity. I’m going to study this for a time.”

  The chief scientist gave him a speculative glance before smiling nervously and heading out of the chamber.

  Benz grabbed the helmet and went to a utility bench. He turned the helmet upside down and began to trace the circuitry with an analyzer.

  This looked promising.

  Benz studied the helmet for thirty-four minutes and worked it on another eighteen. Finally, he pressed the switch in back.

  The helmet buzzed.

  Taking a deep breath, Benz set the helmet over his head. It was a tight fit. The helmet was too small, as if Vela must have originally sized it for her own smaller cranium. In any case, he pushed the helmet on as far as it would go.

  There seemed to be a slight tingle in his brain. Was that really there? Or had he simply imagined it?

  Benz sat up with alarm and glanced around. A few scientists and technicians tinkered around on their various projects. None of them seemed to be interested in what he was doing.

  No, that was wrong. One woman was watching him covertly. She noticed him noticing her.

  Damn it.

  Benz looked away. When he looked back, he could see that he was too late. The woman was back to work on her project and seemed completely oblivious to their eye contact a moment before.

  Benz was sure he hardly had any time left.

  He jumped off his stool and hurried for the exit. As soon as he realized no one was in the hall to see him, he sprinted for the nearest weapons-locker.

  Damn. A marine guard stood by the locker hatch. Did the man—?

  “Just a minute, Premier,” the marine said in a semi-hostile tone. “I’m going to need you to stop a moment, sir.”

  Benz laughed and nodded in agreement.

  “This must be a drill,” Benz said.

  The marine seemed puzzled for just a moment. Then, he, too, grinned.

  “That’s right, sir,” the marine said. “This is a drill.”

  Even as the marine said that, he went for his sidearm.

  By that time, Benz was close enough. He rushed the younger man and jumped off the decking. With a flying mule kick, he slammed feet first against the younger man’s mid-section. The marine crashed against the locker.

  As Benz landed lightly on his feet—he was surprised he’d been able to pull that off as well as he had—the marine hit the deck on his hands and knees. This was dirty pool, but Benz kicked the younger man across the chin.

  The marine slumped unconscious onto the decking.

  Benz was certain that he was right. The last and oldest Seiner had survived after all. The psionic-capable bitch had made it onto the Gilgamesh. She’d been talking through Vela a little while ago. That’s why Vela’s speech-patterns had been so off. That’s why the marine had just tried to attack him.

  Benz correlated three pieces of data at lightning speed. One, the Seiner hadn’t seemed to be using anyone’s mind until now. At least, she hadn’t used it with great strength and shown her own personality. That would seem to indicate she had been injured by all of Benz’s head-banging while down on Mars. Two, Benz believed th
at a Seiner needed proximity to take over an alien mind. Three, if the Seiner had been hurt all this time, she would have likely needed medical help and likely—a possible fourth fact—needed to hole up in a place she could hide, more or less.

  Given those facts, where was the Seiner now?

  Benz gripped a blaster in his right fist as he mouthed silent laughter. Given these facts, he was fairly certain where the Seiner was holed up.

  She was not going to take over his cybership if he could help it. She was not going to use his people like animals. He had a good idea what Seiners thought about humans. In some ways, she was as bad or worse than the AIs.

  Benz sprinted down the corridors. The Seiner could enter people’s minds and see through their eyes. That was a daunting power. She knew now that he knew about her. She was likely extremely desperate.

  “Sir!” a marine shouted from down the corridor.

  The marine…lieutenant, Benz saw, had a hand on his holster. He also had other marines with him. Benz felt horrible inside.

  “Sir,” the marine said, beginning to draw his gun. “I’m going to have to detain you.”

  Those were the marine’s last words.

  Benz aimed the blaster and fired a torrent of energy into the marine. The others cried out in alarm, jumping away from the stricken individual. The marine lieutenant toasted to a crisp before falling to the deck, dead.

  Benz felt horribly soiled by the outright murder. He dearly hoped the Seiner had been in the marine’s mind when the man died. Benz hoped the Seiner felt the sting of death. Even more, he hoped that paralyzed or killed the alien.

  “Get down!” Benz shouted at the others. “We’re under an alien mind assault.”

  One of the marines on the deck looked up at Benz in wonder. The Premier almost pulled the trigger, blasting the young marine. Benz recognized his genuine puzzlement just in time.

  “I’ll explain later,” Benz shouted. “I have no time now.”

  The Premier sprinted down the hall, passing the prone marines. He tried to watch them, to see if the Seiner entered any of their minds. Then he turned a corner and they were out of sight.

  Benz believed he knew the Seiner’s location. The question was, could he get to her before she could throw other people in his way? Could he reach her before she forced him to murder more of his crew?

  -9-

  “Premier Benz, halt,” Vela said.

  Benz slid to a panting stop. He was exhausted and sweat poured down his face, dripping from his nose. He still gripped his blaster. In fact, he aimed it at the woman he loved.

  Vela stood before the hatch he intended to enter. She held a gyroc pistol, aiming it at him. She had staring eyes that had locked onto him.

  “Drop your weapon, Premier,” Vela told him.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “An alien is controlling your mind.”

  Vela smiled wickedly.

  “Yes, I know,” she said. “I like it, too.”

  “You’re the Seiner speaking through Vela,” Benz said.

  “Did you figure that out on your own, monkey-boy?” Vela asked. “Now drop your weapon. Otherwise, I’ll kill you.”

  Benz almost pulled the trigger. He almost blasted the woman he loved. He wondered in the final microsecond if there was another way.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Benz said.

  Vela shook her head.

  “Why not listen to the deal first?” he asked.

  “I have the winning hand, Premier. Either you set down your blaster…”

  “You’d better make sure you kill me,” Benz snarled. “I have the superior weapon. If Vela fires, I have enough time to dodge the rocket shell, as it won’t ignite immediately. Even if that’s not one hundred percent the case, I have a good chance of blasting her rocket shell out of the air while I’m shooting her.”

  “Vela dies then.”

  “I know,” Benz said grimly. “That means I’m coming through that door to kill you after I’m done.”

  He wasn’t sure, but Benz thought to detect the first hint of fear in Vela’s eyes. Maybe he could bargain with the Seiner after all. He dearly hoped he could, as he wasn’t sure he could simply murder the woman he loved, not even to save humanity.

  “You’re bluffing,” she said.

  “You’re guessing,” Benz said. “It’s clear. If you could control me, you would. Since you can’t, you can’t read my mind. Thus, as I said, you’re guessing about what I’m saying.”

  “Don’t think your buzzing helmet will stop me for long. I’ll figure out the circuitry soon. Then, I’ll short it and—”

  “You can do that?” Benz asked, interrupting.

  “Why does that delight you?” Vela asked suspiciously.

  “It doesn’t.”

  “I can read your facial expressions, Premier, particularly with this subject’s mind. She knows you too well.”

  Benz didn’t know what to believe. Was the Seiner lying about being able to short the helmet? If that were true, they had no way to confine her psionics. For the good of the crew, he had to kill the mental monster. Yet, he could dearly use her ability.

  “We are at an impasse,” Vela said. “That will always be the case between us. I am too superior to live among your kind. Either I must rule or you must destroy me for your own protection.”

  “Why?” Benz asked. “Why indulge your murder-lust against us while a greater enemy threatens us both? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Of course it does,” Vela said. “You’re simply too dull to recognize the obvious. The strong rule the weak. It is the way of the universe. You are a sentimentalist, Premier. And you are supposedly the best among your kind. This shows that you humans are weak-willed and are thus natural slaves.”

  “That’s false. We proved to be stronger than you Seiners. The AIs drove you out of your star system. We’re still holding onto ours. We’re not running away as you did, but running at the enemy. Why boast when you’re clearly inferior to us?”

  A variety of emotions played across Vela’s features.

  Benz debated his options at lightning speed. He would love to have access to mental powers. But how could he trust the Seiner? The literature he’d read on the topic had suggested that true telepaths would be peace-loving and just. Instead, it appeared they were more ruthless than non-telepaths. Maybe having access to other people’s thoughts allowed them to see what really went on in other people’s minds. There would be some light, naturally, but there would be plenty of darkness, hatred, envy, lust… No wonder the Seiner was so bitter. Her people’s extinction might have something to do with it as well.

  “What does fighting me gain you?” Benz asked.

  “Speak clearly,” Vela said. “I cannot read your implications.”

  “What does this standoff gain you?” Benz asked. “If I have to kill Vela, I’m going to kill you. That means you die. Why not play for time. If you can short our various circuitry in time, you merely have to wait for a better opportunity instead of throwing everything away now.”

  “That is lazy thinking on your part. If I surrender as you’re suggesting, you might torture me while you can. You might kill me. This way at least gives me the chance of winning. While you might kill Vela, I might kill you. Then, I will go on to control the cybership. With it, I might be able to reach other star systems and collect my people. We are scattered far and wide, so some might survive. Once I gather the others, we could flee far indeed with this ship and save the most glorious race in existence.”

  “No,” Benz said. “If you do as you suggest and gain the cybership, you doom your race to a hideous existence. You will have bitten the hand that helped you. We humans can beat the AIs. You Seiners can merely survive until the AIs find you again. Not only will you always be looking over your shoulder, but your treachery today will forever befoul your race.”

  “What quaint notions you have, Premier. For the master realist of your planet, you allow quaintly softhearted thinking to rule your intellect.”


  Benz shifted his line of reasoning, moving from one mental track to another.

  “Have you never loved?” he asked.

  Vela cocked her head.

  “I can read this concept of love in her mind, but it is a vain conceit. There is pleasure. There is mutual assistance, but the self-sacrifice that love entails—no, I have never known love. But I can still use it against you. You are feeble, Premier. You love Vela, is that not so?”

  Benz began to tremble because he realized what he was going to have to do. The Seiner was a monster. She—

  Vela raised her arm and fired the gyroc pistol.

  Shock from the action momentarily struck Benz into numbness.

  The gyroc shell expelled from the barrel. In a second, the tiny motor ignited, propelling the shell faster.

  Benz threw himself onto the deck. The shell hissed overhead, burrowed into the bulkhead and exploded.

  Vela retargeted—

  Benz howled with grief as he aimed and fired. His eyes filmed with tears as the blaster-bolt struck Vela. She blew backward with foul smoke pouring off her prone and crumpled body.

  Benz climbed to his feet. He wanted to weep. He—he broke into a sprint. Vela stirred on the deck. She reached for the fallen gyroc beside her.

  The stench of her burnt flesh was nearly overpowering. She grasped the gyroc—Benz reached her and kicked as hard as he could. He struck her hand. Bones snapped. The gyroc sailed away and struck a bulkhead.

  Benz bent low. He’d burned her left hip and part of her lower torso. The bolt-blast wound had chewed hunks of meat and bone from her body. It had also cauterized most of it, although blood seeped and began to pool on the deck.

  “Don’t you die,” Benz whispered. “I’ll get help as soon as I can.”

  The Premier stood, and with mingled rage and sorrow, he rushed toward the hatch into the probable hiding quarters of the vile Seiner.

  -10-

  Benz expected the hatch to be frozen shut. If the Seiner could burn circuitry, surely this would be the place to begin. Instead, the hatch slid open. In a numb stride, Benz moved through a short hall and entered a lit room with a noxious stink and a plethora of gurgling medical machines.