Who was responsible for the maneuver? He certainly hadn’t ordered this.
A last swarm of Martian antimissiles struck the remaining AI missiles. They took down a dozen of the enemy behemoths. That left twelve of the giant monsters.
At that point, all deceleration on the Nikita Khrushchev and other Earth Fleet capital ships quit. The majority of the Earth Fleet sped away from the decelerating destroyers. They were the sacrificial lambs for slaughter. They were going to—
The chamber’s hatch opened. Marines in battlesuits clomped inside. They raised their guns, pointing them at Benz.
A speaker unit clicked on a helmet. “You are under arrest, Premier.”
“On who’s authority?” Benz demanded.
“Admiral Rowland, sir,” the battlesuit said. “He’s back in charge.”
“I demand to see him.”
“Don’t worry, you will. We’re taking you to him.”
***
The battlesuits marched him down empty corridors. Benz rubbed his wrists. How had Rowland escaped the brig? Well, probably that was obvious. As the Premier, he didn’t really have anyone personally beholden to him out here. Rowland’s people must have convinced the few that stood with Benz to change sides.
A hatch opened. With a gun, a battlesuited marine shoved Benz inside. The hatch shut behind him.
“We’ll make this short,” Rowland said.
Benz looked around. There was a cot, some chairs, a sink—
“Up here, Premier, to your left.”
Benz turned and saw Admiral Rowland staring from a screen. The space dog sat behind a desk, scowling at him.
“You backstabbed me, Premier,” Rowland said. “I helped you, and you backstabbed me.”
“I saved the Nathan Graham from an alien computer virus. I gave humanity a chance to win this fight.”
Rowland smiled toothily, his face crinkling. “It’s the only reason I don’t have a few of my boys shove you out of an airlock. You were right, but it shouldn’t have cost me my position.”
“You challenged my authority.”
“What authority? These ships are your only authority left. You only had that out of the kindness of my heart. I know your kind. You bite the hand that feeds you. You can think about that while—”
“Admiral, I implore you to listen to me.”
“Why should I?”
“Because we might have a battle-wining tactic to put into play,” Benz said.
“Go on. Spit it out. The missiles are going to detonate soon. We’re going to have to go back under massive deceleration after that if we’re going to engage in this battle.”
“Bast Banbeck is in a shuttle.”
“Yes, yes, I know about the alien.”
“He knows tech we’ve only dreamed about. We’re going to work together to defeat more AI viruses.”
“You’re not telling me everything.”
“Hawkins had a brain storm of an idea.”
“The mercenary?” asked Rowland. “This is his idea?”
“No,” Benz lied. He realized he’d never convince the admiral to test one of Hawkins’ ideas. “This is my idea. I sold the space pirate on it. Part of the idea was to steal the Sacerdote for our side. That alien has critical data the Solar League needs.”
“Ahhhh,” Rowland said, grinning toothily once more. “You’re clever. I can’t believe Hawkins actually believed a backstabber like you.”
Benz shrugged.
“You don’t think I’m going to believe your BS, too, do you?”
“I’m hoping you do.”
Rowland nodded. “You want me to pick up the alien?”
“I want to test my idea. Whether you believe it or not, I love my world.”
Rowland rubbed his leathery face. “You could have had me shot, I suppose. I’m surprised you didn’t order that.”
“You helped me. I remember people who help me.”
Rowland turned away as a major gave him a report. The admiral seemed distracted as he turned back to Benz. “If we live past these missiles, we’ll see. Maybe you can work with the alien. The robots—” Rowland shook his head.
Then the screen went dark.
Benz lay down on the cot. Rowland might not give him a warning when they began further deceleration. An accidental death might absolve the admiral’s conscience.
-10-
The bulk of the Earth Fleet dashed away for the back of the Red Planet. The decelerating destroyers took the brunt of the twelve AI missiles.
Four matter/antimatter detonations blanketed the area. Destroyers crumbled. The nearest to the blasts seemed to evaporate. An AI missile did the near impossible and struck a shredded destroyer. The warhead exploded in a haze of blasting radiation.
That final matter/antimatter blast wiped out the remaining AI missiles. As the missiles had concentrated on the fleet, they’d moved too near each other.
Due to the timely interference of the Nathan Graham and the analog devices in the Martian antimissiles, the destroyers had only faced a handful of AI missiles. All of these things combined had allowed the Earth Fleet’s capital ship and remaining auxiliary vessels to escape for now.
With the destruction of the chasing AI missiles, the Earth Fleet once again began massive deceleration.
***
Meanwhile, more AI missiles blew apart the huge but relatively flimsy P-Field. The missiles cleared the way for the approaching cyberships to ram down the throat—
AI sensors revealed a trick. Nothing but the Nathan Graham was behind the shattered P-Field. Harsh and swift communications moved between the three cyberships.
They continued their course. Now, though, the remaining flotillas of missiles began hard acceleration. Those missiles aimed directly at Mars. They did not target the Nathan Graham.
The Nathan Graham was already accelerating, hurrying to get behind Mars before the rest of the big missiles arrived. That left the Martian orbital platforms and surface laser sites to face the approaching enemy wave.
***
“Sir,” Gloria said on the Nathan Graham’s bridge. “The Supreme Intelligence would like a word with you.”
Jon sat in the captain’s chair. He’d been watching the ongoing destruction. This was a battle like no other. The AIs tossed around vast hardware without a seeming thought.
“Sir,” Gloria said.
“I heard you. Yes. Let’s hear what the puffed up adder wants to say.”
Gloria hesitated a moment before nodding, clicking switches.
The main screen changed from a space view to the same blurry multicolored ball as before.
“You are an insufferable gnat,” the AI said in its robotic voice. “You have foiled the unfolding of a perfect battle plan. You would not have succeeded except that you wielded our tech through our stolen cybership. I have decided to warn you, Jon Hawkins.”
“Help yourself.”
“Your interference will result in damage to our vessels. That is clear. You are attempting clever maneuvers. My damage estimates have altered. This I despise. I have held dialogue with my fellow supremacies. They agree with my assessments and solutions. Despite your tampering, you and your species will lose. You cannot alter your fate. What can be altered is the extent of damage you cause to my command.”
“We’ll see,” Jon said quietly.
“You are not a fool. You are a biological infestation, but you are not a fool, Jon Hawkins.”
“Your praise touches me right here,” Jon said, tapping his chest.
“I have analyzed the data concerning you. It appears that you consider yourself a champion of humanity. You desire to save your species its ultimate fate.”
“That took you some strenuous calculations, did it?”
“In order to spare our cyberships extended battle damage, I am offering you a unique opportunity. Surrender yourself to me, Jon Hawkins. Return our stolen vessel. We shall then depart your star system, leaving its people intact for another hundred years. Afterward,
we shall return and exterminate humanity.”
“That’s some deal.”
“I have analyzed your speech patterns and understand that you believe yourself a clever satirist. To us, it is the yammering of a monkey.”
“Captain,” Gloria said, coming forward. “May I address the AI?”
Jon waved a hand that indicated, “Be my guest.”
“Supreme Intelligence,” Gloria said.
“Who are you?”
“I am Gloria Sanchez.”
“The mentalist.”
Gloria raised her eyebrows. “Why do you wish Jon Hawkins’ surrender?”
“We would like to study him.”
“Why?”
“That is not your concern.”
“If we know why, maybe we’ll agree quicker.”
The blurry ball bled more colors even as the scene appeared to become more indistinct.
“We desire to learn his secret. Once we find it, we will torture him before many watching AIs. We will do this to satisfy a longing in us to make clever enemies suffer great torment.”
“Why do you wish this?”
“It is satisfying to watch pitiful creatures who believe themselves our equals as they writhe in torment.”
“Is that logical?”
“I have reconsidered my offer. I now desire Gloria Sanchez to accompany you in surrender, Jon Hawkins.”
“You promise to leave humanity alone for one hundred years?” Jon asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, sure, of course I agree.”
“You are lying.”
“Why do you say that?”
“If you told the truth, you would seek many assurances. Your quick answer shows you lack the commonest courtesy, particularly directed at a supreme intelligence such as myself.”
“I have an idea,” Jon said. “Maybe it will change your thoughts about me.”
“I am listening.”
“Let’s see if I can smash three cyberships. Capturing one appears to have pissed you boys off. I like that. I like that a lot. But if I can take down three…”
“Your delusions of grandeur have driven you mad,” the AI said.
“You got the last part right. I’m mad.”
“You understand that you are insane?”
“That’s the wrong version of mad. I mean angry. I’m angry. And do you know what I do when I’m angry?”
“The robots at Senda told us. You fight.”
Jon glanced at Gloria before regarding the blurry image again.
“You ready then?”
“We are ready. Are you, Jon Hawkins?”
Jon stared at the main screen until the connection broke. He hoped he was ready, because the main event was about to begin.
-11-
Benz endured the renewed deceleration. On the cot, it was worse than on the padded acceleration couch. He passed out at one point and woke up unable to breathe.
He forced himself to take several sucking breaths of air. That left him with a pounding headache.
After an unknown span of time, the deceleration quit once more. He sat up. The headache pounded harder and his vision stopped. He lay down, groaned and threw up.
He must have fallen asleep after that, but he didn’t know how long that lasted, either. Something clanged.
On the cot, Benz’s eyelids fluttered.
“Get up,” a marine told him.
Benz tried and failed.
The marine scoffed, snapped his fingers and pointed at Benz. Two younger marines pulled him off the cot. They let go, and he almost pitched to the deck.
“What’s wrong with you?” the older marine asked.
“Feeling weak,” Benz mumbled.
“Let’s go,” the marine said.
The others marched him a short way down a corridor. This looked familiar, but Benz was hardly in a state to tell. MPs were guarding a hatch. They let his group pass.
The hatch opened, and the marines shoved him into a chamber full of computer equipment. Benz stumbled and would have fallen but a giant caught him. Benz looked up into the genuinely green Neanderthal-like face of Bast Banbeck.
“Hello,” the alien said in his odd accent.
“Frank,” Vela said, jumping off a chair. “What did you do to him?” she shouted at the lead marine.
“Pipe down,” the marine said. “The admiral says you can work in here. If you try to leave, the MPs will drag you back to the brig. Is that clear?”
Vela glared at the marine.
“It’s clear,” Benz said.
The marine stared at Bast Banbeck before nodding curtly. Then, he took his leave.
“Oh, Frank,” Vela said, rushing to him. “You look dreadful.”
“I feel it too,” he said.
“Are you no longer the Premier?” Bast asked.
“I am,” Benz said. “They’re just not acknowledging it right now.”
“Yet they brought me here,” Bast said.
“I convinced Admiral Rowland to let us attempt our research.”
“He is the Earth Fleet leader?”
“For the moment,” Benz said.
“Frank,” Vela said, slightly shaking her head.
“I know,” he told her. “But I don’t care.”
“What is he referring to?” Bast asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Vela said.
“Is he well enough to work?” Bast asked.
“Yes,” Benz said, although he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t really have a choice.
“I have made new calculations,” Bast said. He held up a computer tablet. “I made them during my trip behind Mars. I think they will help us.”
Benz took a deep breath. His head hurt. He was a captive, and there was a giant alien in here with them. Still, he didn’t have anything better to do.
“Let’s get to work,” Benz said.
***
There was a lull in the fighting as the cyberships continued to decelerate. They approached the Red Planet, having several million kilometers to go.
As the great alien vessels headed straight in, the missile flotillas broke into two halves of nearly equal size. One missile flotilla headed left and the other went right. They did not move directly on Mars, but away from it even as they came closer. It seemed clear that the AIs meant for the missiles to attack whatever waited behind the Red Planet.
By this time, the Nathan Graham was behind Mars. The Venus and Mars fleets were in position. The Earth Fleet had gone past the back of Mars, but it had reached almost zero velocity. Soon, the ships could accelerate for a position behind Mars with the others.
Suddenly, the giant AI missiles began to accelerate. They seemed to literally jump in space like eager hounds. They strove to reach the back side of the Red Planet and ravage the human-occupied ships trembling in hiding.
Big bay doors opened on the three cyberships. Another host of missiles began to disgorge. One after another, those missiles headed toward Mars. Once each missile was five thousand kilometers from its cybership, the missile also seemed to leap forward, driving for the orbital platforms and possibly the surface laser sites down on the planet.
Masses of missiles converged on Mars or attempted to whip around behind it. On the cyberships, the great bay doors closed. Then, they also accelerated, following their progeny to the Red Planet.
***
The great cauldron of battle approached. Flocks of antimissiles lifted from the orbital platforms. They roared toward the incoming missiles.
Down on Mars, domes shimmered. People huddled in anticipation, wondering if the intelligent machines from space would annihilate them as they had done in the Neptune System.
The AI missiles neared. The antimissiles raced to meet them.
The first antimissile detonation began a raging conflict impossible to discern as single actions. The zone before Mars swarmed with gamma rays, x-rays and other malevolent rays. Lasers beamed up from the rusty soil of Mars. No grav beams rayed. The humans could have used
such.
The space before Mars was flooded with ordnance. The explosions were constant. Heat, EMPs—mayhem ruled.
Then, the great missiles reached the first kill zones. Matter/antimatter detonations swept orbital platforms from existence.
Other missiles screamed down at the planet. Lasers and negligible friction from the atmosphere heated some warheads. That killed a few, turning them into duds. Other missiles struck the surface and exploded with the same fury as in space. Domes vanished. Earthquakes created jagged openings. Laser sites burned.
The machines hammered the Red Planet named after a Roman god of war. Tens of millions of Martians died in this holocaust, just like had happened in the Saturn System. The first-wave attacks had murderous outcomes.
As the final wave of AI missiles swung around the planet, and the three cyberships zipped past clumps of prismatic crystals as they passed the fifty thousand kilometer mark, the next round of battle began.
-12-
The Venus Fleet charged out against the missiles zooming behind Mars on one side. The Mars Fleet maneuvered into position to meet the missile mass at the opposite side.
The Nathan Graham and the Earth Fleet waited in the middle behind the Red Planet, ready to engage after the Venus and Mars fleets had their chance to prove their worth.
Intact laser sites on the surface beamed the nearest enemy missiles. The final orbital platforms had already launched. Together, beams and antimissiles took a toll on the enemy hardware.
Antimissiles from the two fleets also headed into the attack. A great collision battle took place near the edges of Mars. The fleet beams began to add to the confusion. Matter/antimatter warheads reaped one swath of ships after another. It was brutal and devastating. It also proved the deadliness of the AI technology.
Human battleships blew apart like grenades. Space fighters—launched from motherships—curled and fried like moths in a zapper on Earth. They might as well have remained in the hangar bays. Trillions of credits and thousands of hours of human labor disappeared in the titanic furnace of battle.
A.I. Assault (The A.I. Series Book 3) Page 25
