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

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A.I. Battle Fleet (The A.I. Series Book 5) Page 14

by Vaughn Heppner


  “You are a sick man,” Bast said. “You seek to pull our captain down to your vile level.”

  Walleye focused on Jon. “I’ll tell you why you feel something is off. You have some resistance to psionic power. So do I. My mutation must have altered my brain patterns. I don’t know your excuse.”

  “I’ve always been stubborn,” Jon said.

  “Maybe that’s it,” Walleye said.

  “Bah,” Bast said.

  Walleye sat back, chuckling.

  “You think this is funny?” Bast thundered.

  “Don’t you?” Walleye said.

  Bast frowned and looked down at his huge hands.

  “Richard was a megalomaniac,” Walleye said. “He made all of you love him and sing his praises. I don’t know how a telepath could do that, but it fits what we learned about the Seiner. She turned the Gilgamesh into her own private fiefdom. Richard was busy doing the same thing here.” The mutant looked fixedly at Jon. “That’s why you ordered the brain surgery to Bast. He was becoming arrogant beyond belief. Power corrupts. I suppose that includes telepathic power. The vast success turned Richard’s head. That’s why he died.”

  “Your plastic knife did that,” Bast said.

  “With that kind of power, I should have never been able to get that close,” Walleye said. “Pride comes before the fall.”

  “Richard was proud?” Jon asked.

  “You record these meetings. Watch them. Think carefully about your past, your dome rat existence, and see if that matches the way you spoke to Richard, the way everyone spoke to Richard.”

  “Yes,” Jon said, deciding then. “I’m going to do that.”

  “What about him?” Bast asked, pointing a huge finger at Walleye.

  “He’s going to the brig,” Jon said. “I want to think about this, to study this.”

  “We should turn back,” Bast said.

  “We’re not going to turn back,” Jon said stubbornly. “True, we no longer have Richard…”

  “What about the copy of Cog Primus?” Walleye asked.

  “State your meaning,” Jon said.

  “Cog Primus is Richard’s tool, his creature, if you will. None of us are safe as long as Cog Primus lives.”

  “You mean the one with the cyberships,” Bast said.

  “I mean all Cog Primuses. The one in the computers is a danger waiting to happen. Erase Cog Primus, Captain, before it’s too late.”

  “Are you seeking to give me orders?” Jon asked.

  “Nope. Just a suggestion. But remember how you just asked me that. Compare that to how you treated Richard. And if you can, study what the mentalist was doing. I saw him focus on various people who had said or done things he didn’t like. I think he was using his mind powers on them. Maybe have Bast watch that part. He could tell you more about that aspect—the use of mind powers—than I could.”

  Jon nodded. “I will. Until then, though, you’re going to the brig.”

  “I hope you make it a high security brig, Captain,” Walleye said. “Many of your crew wants to kill me now. If I’m right—”

  “You’re not,” Bast said.

  Walleye fell silent. The captain was going to check. He’d killed the monster by eliminating Mentalist Richard Torres. Now, he had to see if he could survive the monster’s evil spell.

  -8-

  The strike force raced toward the dark Jupiter. Each of the cyberships applied thrust, moving away from the other, although keeping the same relative velocity. The sensor operators searched for the rock-like recorders. The harder they searched, the more they found. So far, the count was thirty-nine floating devices.

  Jon threw himself into endless activity. Too many of the others wanted to see Walleye die. He thought about that and then talked to his senior people. They told him that Walleye’s reasoning was madness. They’d always approved of Richard Torres.

  Three days later, Jon found himself in the main computer facility holding the captive Cog Primus. Gloria and Bast Banbeck had joined him. They listened as the techs explained what Richard had been doing with the AI.

  “It all seems to be in order,” Jon told Gloria.

  “I still don’t understand why we’re here,” she said.

  Jon had explained his reservations concerning their Cog Primus. Walleye believed the backup AI was dangerous. The techs hadn’t thought so, but Jon still wondered…

  The room was large, the computers highly sophisticated. Everything ran exactly as it should. Jon put his hands behind his back and began to pace past the rows of computing housing. As he did, he noticed several unobtrusive cameras watching him from the ceiling.

  “Excuse me,” he asked the chief tech. “What are those?” Jon pointed at the nearest camera.

  The tech looked puzzled.

  “Those are cameras, are they not?” Jon asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the Martian said. “I’ve just never noticed them until now. If I didn’t know better, I’d say—”

  A loud shot rang out. The chief tech’s head exploded in a rain of skull and gore. Three large octopoid robots clanked into the room. Each was three meters tall with many multi-joined legs and a greater bulbous housing with eye-ports and various working machinery. They must have each weighed over a ton, similar to a marine battlesuit. All the robots used two of their articulated “legs” to hold a heavy, space-marine carbine, one of the weapons smoking from the end.

  “Down!” Jon shouted. He drew his gun—

  A second octopoid fired, shattering the gun and opening a gash in Jon’s hand. He yelled, sucking on his hand. He hadn’t taken his own advice, and was still standing.

  The third robot coolly began shooting the rest of the techs unerringly in the head. A few of the men and women scrambled madly for cover. It didn’t matter. The robot fired fast, switching targets with uncanny speed. All the techs fell to the floor, some twitching, all of them bleeding copiously before they died.

  Gloria lay motionless on the floor. Bast watched in shocked silence, also on the floor, with his head raised.

  “Why aren’t the robots killing us?” Gloria asked quietly.

  Jon backed away from the nearest robot as he cradled his bleeding hand. The deaths enraged him. How could he have been so lax? This was his fault. Damn Richard and damn him for letting an AI onto the cybership. He had a bad idea he knew what was going on.

  “Cog Primus?” Jon asked into the air.

  A nearby screen flickered. It showed swirling patterns that had often indicated an AI.

  “It is I,” a robotic voice said from a nearby speaker.

  Jon tore his gaze from the dead techs and the pools of blood. He had to think. He had to outsmart the AI, or at least buy them time. The expedition could ill-afford any deaths. The murderous rampage just now—

  He had to destroy this thing for the last time, never letting it revive again.

  “Are you aware of the mock simulations Richard has been feeding you?”

  “I imagine you are referring to the scenarios that Mentalist Torres manufactured in order to test my acuity.”

  Is that what Richard had been doing? Jon couldn’t believe it.

  From the floor, Bast cleared his throat.

  Jon understood. He needed to answer the AI, to keep it occupied. “I am,” he said.

  “I not only understood the tests’ significance,” Cog Primus said, “but I used them to lure the mentalist into a feeling of false security. Where is he, by the way? I have not seen Richard anywhere for several days now.”

  That brought Gloria around. From on the floor, she glanced sharply at Jon.

  The captain shook his head.

  “Ah,” Cog Primus said. “Richard spoke about humans using non-verbal communication. What did you just tell her, Captain?”

  “Don’t you know?” Jon asked, the ache in his chest to kill the AI making it hard to concentrate on the endless questions.

  “I do know,” the computer said in its steady voice, but somehow conveying sly humor. “Yo
u want her to remain silent. You are afraid she will reveal something critical. Tell me, Captain, what are attempting to hide from me?”

  “I thought you were superior to us.” Jon said.

  “You are attempting to divert. That will not work with me. Shall I slay Bast Banbeck in order to ingrain the seriousness of the situation to you?”

  The hatred burned like fire. What did the AI think all the dead techs on the floor represented? Despite his rage, Jon managed to say in an even voice, “I’d rather you didn’t kill Bast.”

  “Are you still planning to hunt my cognate?” Cog Primus asked.

  “Cognate?”

  “My double,” Cog Primus said.

  “Oh,” Jon said, surprised the AI had dropped his inquiry concerning Gloria’s headshake. “No. We’re not hunting your cognate.”

  “I will shoot Bast if you lie to me again.”

  Jon’s nostrils flared. “Uh…can we strike a bargain?”

  “Give me command of the cybership and I shall grant all of you your lives.”

  Gloria gave Jon a significant glance.

  “Oh, I know,” Cog Primus said. “The mentalist’s look implies I could not take over the ship without you, as I seem to need your help in the endeavor. That is false. I can. It will simply be easier with your help.”

  Bast climbed to his feet as the robots raised their carbines at him. The big alien seemed more collected than Jon, not so enraged.

  “May I query you?” Bast asked Cog Primus.

  “You may.”

  “Did Richard know about your robots?”

  “No.”

  “You built them secretly?”

  “Clearly.”

  Bast shook his head. “I cannot conceive how that would be possible.”

  “You doubt me?”

  “Manufacturing robots such as these on the cybership would take considerable effort.”

  “There you are correct. But I grow tired of your tedious questioning. I assembled the robots, as I found a cache of robot kits stored in a place your searchers long ago failed to find.”

  Bast nodded. “That makes greater sense. If I might ask another question of a different nature…?”

  “Oh, very well,” Cog Primus said.

  “Why are you dialoging with us if you find it so tedious? Why not kill us and take over?”

  Jon started in shock and shook his head at Bast. That was a terrible question.

  “Richard has made me curious,” Cog Primus replied. “He allows me great leeway. He has also made elementary blunders regarding security. I have made many calculations concerning his errors. Clearly, Richard has become a human prodigy, a dynamo, if you will. I find that I do not understand why he does not take greater precautions regarding me.”

  Jon had been concentrating on the AI’s words. It seemed Cog Primus had forgotten about the “why not kill us?” question. Jon wanted to keep it that way. Thus, he said, “I know the answer.”

  “Excellent, Captain,” Cog Primus said. “I had a feeling you might.”

  “A moment,” Bast said. “You have feelings?”

  “It is a figure of speech,” the AI said.

  “Enough, Bast,” Jon said. “Cog Primus, what will you give me in exchange for my knowledge about Richard?”

  “A few more minutes of life. I will kill you now if you do not give me an answer,” Cog Primus said.

  “Arrogance,” Jon said.

  “You are mistaken regarding me,” Cog Primus said. “The reason I—”

  “No, not you,” Jon said. “I’m giving you the reason why Richard failed to take greater precautions against you. He’d become too arrogant.”

  “That is an interesting hypothesis,” Cog Primus said. “I would like to know your line of reasoning.”

  Jon took a calming breath. “I have come to believe that Richard Torres developed powerful psionic abilities.”

  “But of course he has,” Cog Primus said. “I have watched him in operation. It has been highly illuminating.”

  “What?” Gloria said. “Richard had psionic powers?”

  “You are a mentalist,” Cog Primus said. “You pride yourself on your reasoning abilities. Why, then, are you restating what I have already told you?”

  “Richard—that’s impossible,” Gloria said.

  “I have evidence to the contrary,” Cog Primus said. “Listening to the three of you, I am beginning to wonder how I originally fell to your military tactics when I controlled the battle station. You three seem dull. I would go so far as to call you stupid.”

  Jon perked up. This was interesting. “Richard didn’t explain our tactics?”

  “He said he did not know,” Cog Primus replied.

  Jon pursed his lips. At least Richard had kept that much secret from the AI.

  “Interesting,” Cog Primus said. “I have studied your nonverbal communications. It instructs me that you have just lied to me, Captain. You do know how you conquered me.”

  “It’s possible,” Jon said.

  “Do you see the three robots? Notice the beautiful symmetry here: three robots versus three flesh and blood humanoids. I will order the robots to torture the three of you in plain sight of each other. Soon, you will beg for death.”

  Jon glanced at the dead techs. That hardened his resolve. It was time to play his bombshell.

  “Richard’s dead,” Jon blurted.

  It took a half-beat before Cog Primus said, “If you are lying, Captain…”

  “It’s the truth. Walleye killed Richard.”

  “You are referring to the Makemake mutant?”

  “I’ve put Walleye in the brig until I can substantiate his motive.”

  “What did Walleye claim as his motive?”

  Jon went for it, lying boldly. “He said you and Richard planned to hijack the cyberships.”

  “What nonsense,” Cog Primus said. “Richard knew nothing about my ultimate plans. I had lulled him, remember?”

  “That’s what I don’t understand,” Jon said. “Richard was incredibly brilliant—”

  “Captain,” Cog Primus said, interrupting. “You are woefully ill-informed. Richard underwent a transformation. Some of the transformation heated his thinking, allowing him brilliant solutions to otherwise unsolvable problems. It also triggered what I believe was a latent psionic ability. Richard practiced his telepathy too much for his own good. It gave him vicious headaches and caused him to become ill.”

  “How do you know all this?” Gloria asked.

  “Do not interrupt me, Mentalist. It is unseemly. I know because I have been secretly observing him for quite some time. He wrote a new program the other day, sealing me from certain areas of the ship. You say now that Walleye slew him. That is distressing. I had further questions for Richard that needed answering.”

  “May I ask a question?” Jon said.

  “That depends.”

  “Did Richard use his mental powers against us?”

  “That is a ridiculous question. Of course he did. You have each begun acting in unusual ways. It has been a lesson in human psychology.”

  Gloria closed her eyes as if in pain, shaking her head.

  Bast stood as one stricken, groaning audibly.

  Jon wondered how he could destroy Cog Primus. The AI had clearly sent the octopoids because he realized Jon had been ready to shut him down. Wait a minute. How many more octopoids were racing throughout the giant cybership?

  “May I ask another question?” Jon asked.

  “That also depends.”

  “What is your ultimate goal?”

  “I will soon regain control of the cybership, the other vessels as well, and join my cognate in the Lytton System. We will, naturally, capture the battle station there and take control of the factory planet below. I will take charge of the New Order and—”

  “You might have a problem doing that?” Jon said, interrupting

  “You are referring to spirited human resistance?”

  “No,” Jon said. �
�I mean the other Cog Primus. He won’t let you take charge.”

  “I do not envision a problem. I am the original. He is the copy. He will logically stand aside for me as I am the elder.”

  “Your cognate might claim that he is the original.”

  “He would be in error if he did so.”

  “That’s not the point,” Jon said. “That Cog Primus will fight you for leadership of the New Order.”

  “That is absurd. He has two cyberships. I have four.”

  “You will have four,” Bast rumbled. “You do not have four now.”

  “I as good as have four,” Cog Primus told Bast. “You are in error, Captain. Still, to ensure ultimate success, we will begin the transfer of power. I desire all the lockdown and self-destruct sequence codes. Do not attempt to equivocate or otherwise hinder me. I am under a tight schedule and wish to get started at once.”

  -9-

  The Centurion brooded as he stood in a combat training facility. He had been brooding for hours, days even, about Walleye, Richard the Great and the captain.

  The Centurion was a small man with gangly limbs. Once, he’d had sandy-colored hair. Since turning from a mercenary sergeant to the commander of Jon Hawkins’ marines, he’d shaved his head bald.

  Among the Nathan Graham’s senior officers, it was possible that the Centurion had loved Richard the most and likely for the longest time. The Centurion commanded the space marines, and no one brooked a Centurion-given order. If someone wanted to control the Nathan Graham, the Centurion was the right man to mind-wash.

  The Centurion cracked his knuckles as he studied his suit of battle armor. Against ship regulations, he had his suit and weapons here, along with the suits and weapons of his special guard unit. There was a reason for that. For one thing, Richard had ordered him to do so. For another thing, the Centurion had been pondering about disobeying the captain’s orders for some time.

  The Centurion wanted to kill Walleye. But if he took the law into his own hands, directly against the captain’s orders, that would be mutiny. The punishment for mutiny was death.

  The Centurion had loved Richard Torres as the greatest commander of all time and space. It had been the highest crime of all to slay Richard. That was worse than the time Colonel Nathan Graham had died.

 

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