A.I. Battle Fleet (The A.I. Series Book 5)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “What?” Gloria said.

  “It was an error,” Richard admitted. “The backup moved swiftly, taking over sub-systems. Your dialogue slowed that down. I believe it made an error, in fact. During the window of opportunity you provided, I found a way to terminate its—”

  “Wait,” Gloria said, interrupting once more. “You compounded your error by erasing the AI backup?”

  “On no account,” Richard said, sounding offended. “The backup personality is still intact, if in stasis. What I mean to say—you know what I mean. I severed its power supply. I recommend against ever turning it on again. It started taking over sub-systems at an alarming rate.”

  “I heard you the first time,” Gloria said. “I had no idea your team was this far along in figuring out the station systems, or that there was even a backup personality.”

  “The backup wasn’t a full AI like the one we destroyed in taking over the station. It had the prerequisite…data and various zipped files. Those expanded faster than I’d anticipated. In any case, we are about to decipher the primary AI symbolism. At that point, we should learn everything stored in the station systems.”

  “Did you believe the backup personality would aid you in the deciphering?” Gloria asked.

  “Yes, as I had traces on its computing sources.”

  “I want to see them.”

  “Of course,” Richard said. “I can have them sent—”

  “This instant,” Gloria said.

  Richard paused for a half-beat before turning to his console. “If you will observe,” he said.

  “Bast,” Gloria said. “Would you watch with me? I’d like your take on this.”

  The giant Sacerdote nodded.

  Richard stood at his panel and began to manipulate the controls. Gloria and Bast watched over his shoulder. Data flowed at an incredible rate across a console screen. All three of them absorbed the flashing information. Bast was a Sacerdote philosopher, his alien mind highly trained and disciplined. Gloria and Richard possessed the same intensity of discipline.

  Finally, Richard tapped a control, and the data stream ceased.

  “You possess brilliant research methods, as always,” Gloria told him.

  Richard nodded, accepting the praise. Mentalists did not believe in false modesty.

  “But your methods are also foolishly reckless,” Gloria added. “Turning on the backup system…it could have been a disaster, ending in our all deaths.”

  “I have already admitted my error,” Richard said, with a peevish note in his voice.

  Gloria stared at him. Something was off here. “You’re relieved of duty until further notice,” she said abruptly.

  Richard opened his mouth and only slowly closed it. “Shouldn’t such a command come from Captain Hawkins?”

  “It will,” Gloria assured him.

  “Then, until the captain orders me—”

  “Richard,” Gloria said, interrupting. “Are you sure you want to test me on this?”

  “I’m the best code cracker in the Expeditionary Force,” Richard said.

  “Perhaps, but you’re also too reckless. We’re dealing with powerful alien entities. A mistake here can mean the end of the human race. Brilliance must be matched with prudence.”

  “You’re wrong,” Richard said. “The great danger is exactly why you need my brilliance. We have to take risks in order to defeat an enemy with overwhelming resources.”

  “He may have a point,” Bast rumbled. “Captain Hawkins often behaves in a like manner.”

  Gloria could accept that in principle, but there was something off in Richard Torres. She’d been watching him closely while he spoke. She hadn’t yet pinpointed the…precise strangeness, but she was sure it was there. They were all tired, though, including her. Her mind wasn’t as sharp as it could be.

  “Can we afford to lose even a day?” Richard asked her.

  “I’m not sure I trust your judgment,” Gloria said. “This…error…it could have been disastrous.”

  “Then help us,” Richard said. “Work with us.”

  “I have my own priorities. The space marine assassin—”

  “The Solar League obviously sent him,” Richard said, “infiltrating him among us months ago. That much is clear.”

  “I know it is clear,” Gloria said. “But how did they infiltrate him? What does it signify?”

  “The act signifies that the Solar League desires preeminence,” Richard said.

  Gloria turned away. She was a mentalist. Logic dictated her actions. Logically, understanding the purpose behind Harris Dan wasn’t as critical to the war effort as breaking the AI battle station codes.

  “Once we crack the station code,” Richard said, “the captain will receive his local-region stellar map. I know he desires that.”

  Gloria faced Richard. “Necessity is allowing you a reprieve.” She glanced at Bast. “I came seeking your help with Harris Dan. Instead, the science team is going to receive my help.” She faced Richard once more. “You will run each major decision through me. If you fail to do so, I will put you on an immediate leave of absence. Do you accept my conditions?”

  “Reluctantly,” Richard said.

  “That isn’t good enough.”

  Richard sighed and nodded. “I accept them.”

  Gloria didn’t know if that was good or not. Richard was brilliant, and they needed such brilliance more than ever. But something troubled her about the mentalist. Maybe if she watched him in action, she could analyze him more thoroughly and reach a conclusion about why she found him troubling.

  -4-

  A day later, Richard was working in an alcove of the main computer chamber. His thin fingers blurred over a console. He was still seething over Gloria Sanchez’s intrusion into his area of expertise.

  Richard knew that he was the most brilliant mentalist in the Allamu System. He had greater insights than Gloria did. Not only that, but he needed his brilliance on a top-secret project of his own devising.

  He could have already cracked the primary AI computer code. The truth was that he presently retarded the advances because he had a more vital mission to perform.

  Richard rubbed his hands together and slyly glanced around. No one was watching him. Soon, someone would. Gloria had become more suspicious of him in the last twenty-four hours, not less. He had worked diligently to maintain a regular mentalist persona, but something kept giving him away. Part of the trouble was that he knew what had happened to him.

  It had occurred a little more than seven weeks ago. Premier Benz had joined the assault upon the battle station. He had brought the Gilgamesh into the fray. The giant vessel had carried an alien, a Seiner called the Magistrate Yellow Ellowyn. She had psionic abilities, among them telepathy and mind control.

  The Magistrate had reached out from the Gilgamesh and found Richard. It seemed that he had a smattering of psionic ability himself. That had made it easier for her to reach him and easier for her to manipulate his emotions.

  That was funny in a way. A mentalist lived by logic. Yet, a mentalist was human, and humans were essentially emotional. Even the brightest did a thing because he wanted to, and a person wanted to do a thing for emotional reasons at heart. Some men skied because they loved the mountains. Some solved mathematical puzzles. Others boxed or grew gardens or studied the stars.

  The Magistrate Yellow Ellowyn had given Richard a new love. It must have been one of her backup plans. The alien telepath had died, killed by the mutant Walleye under Hawkins’ orders.

  Richard’s new love had bubbled to the forefront in the last several days. That love was finding and warning the last Seiners. Instead of cracking the primary AI code—which he’d already done—he searched for clues as to the whereabouts of more Seiners.

  The Magistrate Yellow Ellowyn had been certain more hidden Seiner colonies existed. Her colony had hidden on Mars. The AIs had vast data concerning the various alien species they’d annihilated throughout the centuries.

  This
was interesting.

  Richard read data at an even faster rate than the three of them had done the other day. That had been another benefit from the Magistrate Yellow Ellowyn. She had turned up the heat in his mind, as it were. He was burning out faster than normal. He was like a hot-shotted laser rifle. It could fire hotter rounds, but would burn out the circuits sooner.

  Richard’s mind was in overdrive. It was a godlike feeling. He had been solving problems that would have stymied him in the past. The true difficulty these days wasn’t in solving problems, but in maintaining his old dullness.

  That was one of the reasons he was tired all the time. Such brainpower took more energy. He slept harder, ate more and yet still lost weight.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Richard whispered to himself.

  He kept reading data, absorbing—

  Hello. Here was an interesting insight. There was a brain-tap machine in the lower levels of the station. The Sacerdotes had information regarding the Seiners. That’s how Bast had known things to defeat the Magistrate seven weeks ago.

  If Richard could absorb a Sacerdote memory or two, that might give him the insight to see what he was missing. It would be a risk, certainly. But he was on a tight schedule. He had to stay ahead of the others if he was going to achieve his great goal.

  Gloria and that blundering Sacerdote were coming to check up on him. It was time to act dull again and lull her. He’d wondered if Gloria should have an accident, but decided Hawkins would become murderous if that happened.

  Richard would lull them and try for the lower level at the first opportunity.

  ***

  Two nights later, Richard moved briskly through a battle station corridor. It had taken some clever work on his part to change duty rosters and allow him a pass into this area. According to a manifest, he had to check a computer link down here. Fortunately, for him, that link was close to a brain-tap machine.

  He showed a marine guard his pass, took a turn in a corridor and soon reached the computer link. It was a quick matter to set up a recording loop. Once accomplished, he hurried through several more corridors, slipped through various hatches and finally reached a gloomy chamber.

  Richard did not turn on any lights, as he’d memorized the layout. He reached the main machine, supplied it with power and soon put a strange metal helmet over his head.

  The controls seemed crude after the main station panels. It did not matter. Richard set a lever here, put a selector there—he had more knowledge of the brain-tap machine than any human living—and finally threw the main switch.

  The brain-tap machine had drained various aliens of their memories, storing them in the machine. If used wrongly, those memories could flood into another’s brain and take over like a psychic vampire. It had happened to a few humans before who had used the brain-tap machine recklessly. Richard wasn’t such a fool as them. Because of his greater intelligence and learning, he had mastery over the machine.

  Sacerdote memories began to trickle into his brain. They did not come as a flood. The memories were slow enough that he could control them.

  Now began an intricate process. Some of it came from the Magistrate Yellow Ellowyn’s conditioning. She had changed him in ways that Richard did not yet fully comprehend. Much of the process came from his hot-shotted, mentalist brilliance.

  For the next hour and half, he moved through thousands of Sacerdote memories and personalities. It was an amazing mental performance. Finally, though, Richard shut off the brain-tap machine, took the helmet off his head and slinked from the strange room.

  He hurried back to the computer link, manipulated controls and waited until a marine guard came by.

  “You’re still here?” the marine asked.

  Richard nodded, unplugged a tablet and put it into a waist holder. “Finished,” he said. “Which way is the exit?”

  “I’ll show you,” the marine said.

  Thirty minutes later, Richard lay in bed. He fell asleep almost instantly, but he had terrible dreams that night. He woke twice, the second time drenched in sweat.

  The next morning, he felt like crap. He ate a sparse meal and soon found himself in the main computer facility.

  “You look horrible,” Gloria said, walking up to him at his console. “You have bags under your eyes and—” She leaned near. “Your eyes are bloodshot. You’re working too hard, Richard.”

  He shrugged. “Humanity is running out of time.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No, buts,” he said. “We have work to do.”

  Richard could feel her eyes on him as he turned back to his console. Finally, she went away to work on her own project.

  He focused harder then, tapping into new station data, using what he’d learned last night from the Sacerdote memories.

  Two hours later, he sat back with astonishment as the truth came to him. Of course, there were more Seiner colonies in the Solar System. How crude of everyone to think the Mars Seiners were the only ones. There was a larger colony of Seiners on Earth in Tibet Sector. The Allamu Station hadn’t known about Tibet—it hadn’t even known about Earth or the Solar System. But from the information the station did possess, with various Earth legends and Richard’s guesses, he was certain Seiners lived in Tibet.

  Richard leaned forward as he scowled, with the glow of his mental accomplishment diminishing. How could he reach the Tibetan Seiners in time? There had to be—

  He snapped his fingers. He knew a process that would work. And he understood now why the Solar League had sent Harris Dan the assassin space marine. It wasn’t for the reasons Gloria thought, oh no, not at all.

  Richard shook his head. None of that mattered to him. He had to get to Earth. He had to reach the Seiners in Tibet and tell them his secret findings. But to reach Earth from here—

  It was time to officially crack the primary AI code. He’d done so some time ago, and had used that knowledge to his advantage, particularly with the brain-tap machine.

  Richard cracked his thin knuckles. He was about to become the new mentalist hero.

  “Hey!” Richard shouted to the others. “Everyone, come take a look. I think I’ve found something…”

  -5-

  Five days after the assassination attempt, Jon Hawkins tramped alone through a long corridor in the gigantic battle station.

  Since the attempt, the others had demanded that bodyguards accompany him at all times. Jon had overruled them, saying he would not live like a prisoner. He’d been in detention before as a youngster in New London, on Titan. He’d hated the experience. In his earliest days as a dome rat, he’d lived by his wits, alone and often frightened. Maybe because of the experience, he often needed to be alone. Being with people too long at any one time depleted his mental energies.

  If that meant he would die someday to an assassin, then he would die someday to an assassin. Everyone died sometime. How you lived was what counted. He would be free, or he would die trying to be free.

  Jon shook his head. He was walking alone today because he needed to think. Humanity was living against a ticking clock. The timer had started when the AI Dominion had sent a cybership into the Solar System. According to what the scientists had learned, the AIs usually sent a single one-hundred-kilometer cybership to a new star system to investigate and destroy if necessary. If the system possessed intelligent life, and if that intelligent life possessed mechanical items, including computers, the AI in the scouting cybership radioed an “awakening” program to the computers. If the awakening virus was successful, the computers became self-aware and turned on their makers, joining the ongoing AI Revolution as the machines tried to exterminate all biological infestations.

  Jon had destroyed the AI that had once controlled the Nathan Graham. Later, he’d defeated an AI Gene attack that had started in the Kuiper Belt at the dwarf planet of Makemake. A year later, Jon had helped stop a three-cybership AI Assault in the Solar System. The bloody victory had come at the Battle of Mars. From what the scientists and menta
lists had discovered, another AI attack would hit the Solar System in time. Likely, the next attack would be three times stronger than the last one. That meant nine giant cyberships. And if that attack failed, presumably that would mean 27 cyberships the time after that, and so on, until humanity was just as dead as the proverbial dinosaurs.

  Mankind was on a ticking timer to oblivion. That meant Jon had to solve the dilemma before the AIs struck the Solar System again. He hadn’t even bought humanity extra time with the successful Allamu System attack. What he had gained was more cyberships.

  Two human-run cyberships under the leadership of Premier Benz were on their way back to the Solar System. Benz controlled the Gilgamesh and the Hercules. Together with the SFF and Mars home-fleets, Benz should be able to outmaneuver the Solar League Social Dynamists and unite humanity into one team. Benz had entered hyperspace two days before the assassination attempt.

  To enter hyperspace, a ship had to go to the very edge of a star system—far from any gravitational bodies like planets. In hyperspace, a spaceship could travel one light-year per day. It was a constant speed, having no relationship to a vessel’s velocity upon entering hyperspace. The Allamu System was 17.2 light-years from Earth. There was a rogue planetary body in the way—a gravitational, Jupiter-sized stop sign—so that would add extra time to the journey. The ships would drop out of hyperspace, travel through regular velocity past the rogue planet, and once far enough away from it, enter hyperspace again to travel the rest of the way home. Benz should appear at the very edge of the Solar System approximately 26 days from his leaving the Allamu System.

  Jon wished Benz luck in uniting the rest of the Solar System behind him. Humanity desperately needed some unity about now.

  Jon controlled four cyberships, with three more under construction in the robo-factories. Seven cyberships together with everything humanity possessed in the Solar System might defeat nine enemy cyberships. It would not defeat 27 enemy super-vessels, though.

  That meant Jon had to use the Allamu Battle Station and the four cyberships to change the balance of power against the AI Dominion before the next AI attack on Earth and certainly before the attack after that.