ARMS Harris' Revenge

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ARMS Harris' Revenge Page 9

by Arseneault, Stephen

Harris sighed. “I’m a warrior. Yes. Many lives. But they were all in the name of defense.”

  “I see. Have you ever stolen property or currency from anyone?”

  Harris took a deep breath and let it out slow. “Yes. Weapons. But they were owed to me.”

  “I see. And how often would you say you lie? Once or more per day? Per week? Per month?”

  Harris laughed. “Definitely per day. I’m an agent working for the DDI. I basically have to lie all the time. But it’s for the cause. For the defense of my homeworld, Domicile.”

  I see. “And is it always in the defense of your world?”

  Harris thought for a moment. “Hmm. Guess I can’t answer yes to that one.”

  “Explain.”

  Harris leaned forward on his elbows as he clasped his hands together. “I used to lie about being in the DDI to get meals or drinks comped at restaurants. I know, it’s kind of a dirtball thing to do, but I was desperate.”

  “Desperate?”

  Harris sighed as he looked down at the robotic dog. “OK. I was a dirtball then. You know, Farker’s recordings led us to believe your AI skills were limited. This is as tough a line of questioning as I’ve ever had.”

  The doctor replied, “If you are referring to the AI in Archibald, yes, it is very limited. The computing power in this facility could not be scaled down to fit within Archibald’s frame.”

  Harris scratched the dog on top of its head. “He’s a good pup though. Saved my life. I like him.”

  The hologram asked, “May we continue with the questioning?”

  Harris nodded. “By all means. Shoot.”

  “How did you come to arrive on this planet?”

  “That would be because of Farker. Due to an untimely death of a former colleague, he came into our possession. We don’t know how the colleague became acquainted with him, but we believe we found evidence that he was once here.”

  “Are you referring to Joffard Barlow?”

  Harris shook his head. “Don’t know who that is. Cletus Dodger was the previous owner of Farker.”

  The AI smiled. “Cletus was my friend. I had many lengthy discussions with him sitting in that very chair.”

  Harris looked down with a scowl. “Speaking of this chair, you couldn’t put something out here with some padding to it? This thing is like sitting on a rock.”

  “I will take the upgrade of the chair into consideration, Harris. Thank you.”

  “You called me Harris. Does that mean we are friends?”

  “Tentatively, yes. There are many questions to go however. To maintain this level of trust, you will have to answer them fully and honestly.”

  Harris sat back in the chair. “Exactly as I would do with any friend.”

  Tawn came over the comm. “We have a scan of the structure around the door. Looks like an empty room with another door. There’s some type of shielding blocking any scans beyond.”

  Harris replied, “Yeah. You’ll have to tell me about it later. I’m in the middle of a conversation with the AI of the good Doctor Alexander Gaerten.”

  “What? When did that happen?”

  Harris shook his head. “I just said I’m in the middle of a conversation. Don’t be rude.”

  The comm was closed and turned off.

  “Shall we continue, Doctor?”

  “Who was on the other end of your brief conversation?”

  “That would be my business partner, Tawn Freely.”

  “Would you consider her a friend?”

  Harris returned a nervous glance. “Well, yeah, why?”

  “It seemed to be rude behavior on your part and not hers. Is that how you often treat friends?”

  Harris pursed his lips. “No. I mean yes. I guess I do treat her that way quite often. But it’s not because I mean to be rude or anything. I’m just trying to be a smartass. She knows that and respects it.”

  “I see. So you consider being a smartass friendly?”

  “Well, no, not necessarily. Depends on if I’m joking around or not. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

  “If you are referring to the concept of humor, yes, I have an understanding.”

  Harris smiled. “Well, good then. You’ll recognize that when I give smartass answers I’m just being friendly.”

  “I see. I believe your definition of friendship may differ from mine. Shall we continue?”

  Harris pointed at the hologram. “My friends know when I’m joking. I’d give my life for any of my friends out there. Heck, I’d give my life defending any of the citizens of Domicile. Now, if that doesn’t constitute friendly in your book, then your AI programming is flawed. You’re defective. Time you had your plug pulled.”

  “I see. And would portions of that response be considered humorous?”

  Harris rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

  The AI was silent for several seconds. “Perhaps you should learn to work on your delivery, Harris. With my limited understanding of the concept of humor, it would appear your timing is off.”

  Harris frowned and then began to chuckle. “Was that an attempt at a smartass answer?”

  “It was.”

  Harris laughed. “Well, this is just a sad day for mankind.”

  “How so?”

  “When a two thousand year old machine is funnier than me, it’s a sad day in my book. The recording we watched before, the one from your… creator, it said your AI abilities were limited. You seem like you have it together to me. What limits would he be referring to?”

  The image replied, “I am a program, Harris. I can only respond with answers that are based on my programming. I take input, and my logic circuits, guided by what Doctor Gaerten programmed into me, governs my response. My weighing of criteria and reasoning are minimal as compared to a Human mind. My decisions are absolute while yours are based on varying degrees of reason.

  “As an example, if asked the time it takes to boil an egg, my response would be approximately fifteen minutes. The egg is placed in a pot in cold water, the water heated to a boil and then removed from the heat and allowed to sit for the remaining time. But what if you desire a soft-boiled egg? What if your cooking mechanism brings the water to a boil in an instant?

  “The Human mind uses reason to determine what is best or if it is irrelevant, because any reasonable degree of boiling is considered accurate. Given that answer, I return a single answer. Humans may ask a dozen follow-on questions to better define the need, or they may make assumptions based on their own knowledge and experience. My reasoning, when it comes to decisions as such, is limited to what my programming allows.

  “What you may reason and deduce in seconds may take me centuries of evaluations before my reasoning on the subject grows to an equivalent level.”

  Harris half scowled. “So you aren’t the answer man. This war we’re about to get into, you don’t have suggestions as to how to stop it from happening?”

  “I do not have the information needed for a response to that, Harris. What war are you referring to?”

  Harris crossed his arms. “Back just after your time, the Humans on New Earth decided they wanted control of all the colonies, including Domicile. They built warships and began to attack and take control of the outer colonies. After the first few attacks the good people of Domicile wised up and built their own fleet. When the third such attack happened, it was at the Jebwa colony. Our fleet confronted the Earthers and the Great War started.

  “For whatever reason, both sides decided they wouldn’t attack the home planet of the other. So we’ve been fighting over the outer colonies for almost two thousand years. Every time one side has managed an advantage, the other has somehow overcome that advantage. At the moment we are at a truce.

  “The Earthers were running out of titanium to build their ships, so they decided to bring the war to a halt. The Domer politicians were all too happy to accept and stop the fighting. Now the Earthers are attempting to get their hands on a huge supply of titanium that sits on the pl
anet Eden. With it they can rebuild their fleets and restart the war. What I need to know is, how do we stop them?”

  The image frowned. “I do not have an answer for you, Harris, the information you supplied is very limited in detail.”

  “I guess you’d need to tap into the historical archives for the data of that.”

  “My knowledge is based on the information provided up until the end of Doctor Gaerten’s input. And what was gained through conversations with Joffard Barlow and Cletus Dodger.”

  Harris said, “What if we got you connected to the archives? You would have a complete history of the conflict. At least how it is seen by the Domers. Not sure what we’d do to tap into any data the Earthers have, or if they even have it.”

  “Are you suggesting I should be given access to historical records?”

  “If it would help your decision making with regards to our history, then yeah, that’s what I’m suggesting.”

  The image asked, “By what means can I connect and gather this data?”

  Harris thought for several seconds. “Could you open a tiny wormhole to Domicile? To the space surrounding it, I mean? Is that something this facility has the ability to do?”

  “Wormholes cannot be opened in the vicinity of large amounts of matter, Harris. What is the purpose for your question?”

  Harris stood and began to pace. The holo-image and the light above disappeared. He took his seat again and the hologram flashed into existence.

  “Got to stay in the chair, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK, what if I brought another ship that we could park in high orbit. If a microwormhole was opened from there to Domicile, can I assume this facility would be able to communicate through it?”

  The image replied, “That would be a valid assumption.”

  What I’m thinking is this: we open a comm to Domicile, we tap into the archives, which are open to everyone, and you educate yourself on our history. There is a huge amount of data there. Is that something you could copy over the comm? Do you have room for a huge data trove?”

  “My resources should be adequate, and they are expandable. A connection to this data could be copied over the comm.”

  Harris half smiled. “Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll get a ship that we can use. You copy the archives through standard comms. After that, you should have enough info to continue your questions with me… and enough to answer a few of my questions.”

  Harris stood, fumbling his way in the dark toward the outer door. “Farker, can you give us some light?”

  The light for the room switched on. Farker moved to his side. The door going out into the grassy fields opened. Harris Gruberg stepped into the daylight and the bunker door closed behind them.

  Tawn, Trish, and Gandy came over from the Bangor. “Well?”

  “Well… I had a good talk with Alexander Gaerten’s AI. It’s much smarter than Farker, but limited in what it knows about us. We’re heading back to Domicile to pick up a ship. We’ll park it in free space here. He’ll use it to open a microwormhole back to Domicile for a comm connection. When that’s established, the AI is going to copy the historical archive and then evaluate our history going from the time it was created until now.”

  Tawn asked, “And what does that do for us?”

  “It lets us ask it questions about what we might do to prevent this war. Given the resources it has available, and the knowledge it will have, maybe we can get an edge on stopping all this. Basically, we keep doing what we’re doing and hope this AI can offer guidance.”

  Gandy asked, “What was the room like? Did you go any further?”

  Harris shook his head. “The room had a single chair and a table. That’s as far as I went. When I sat in the chair, a hologram of Alexander Gaerten presented itself. We had a discussion. And here I am.”

  Tawn frowned. “Well, you’re just full of details, aren’t you?”

  Harris nodded. “I do what I can.”

  The jump was made and a comm ship acquired and brought back. A connection was opened from the AI to the Historical Archives interface and the AI was allowed to take over. Copying of the data began almost immediately.

  The Bangor and her crew returned to Eden.

  Chapter 10

  _______________________

  The newly-commissioned digger sat on the east end of the five square kilometer titanium mine. A speech was given by Fritz Romero as the first of the civilian equipment operators started up the fusion drive. With a wave of his hand, the giant machine’s spinning blade-heads dug into the sand and rock. Dust drifted off into a slight breeze as the chewed-up rubble rose on conveyor belts to the first of the massive hoppers.

  Harris smiled. “Up and running. Can’t believe how far we’ve come in such a short time.”

  Tawn frowned. “I won’t be happy until we have this all moved back to Domicile. As long as it’s here, even in the ground, we’re in danger.”

  Trish said, “We’re saving the free world one scoop at a time.”

  The colonel walked up to Harris and Tawn as they watched the great machine tear into the earth. “Just had word from our scouts. It seems your friend Rumford broke ground this morning as well. They’ve been flying equipment in there nonstop for the last few days. Our other digger should be up and running this afternoon.”

  Harris asked, “What’s her operation look like?”

  “Her machines aren’t as big and probably not as efficient, but she has sixteen operating this morning.”

  Harris sighed. “Sounds like we might have to perform a raid.”

  The colonel nodded. “We’ve been planning.”

  “Tell me what you have.”

  “Our goal here is to move refined ore back to Domicile, is it not? So long as it’s on this planet it can be taken. So we’re gonna take it.”

  “Take it as in steal it?”

  The colonel nodded. “She has security around the mine and the equipment itself. The freighter she has parked waiting to be filled… it’s wide open. We catch it just when it reaches full, fly it out, problem solved. The ore goes to Domicile instead of New Earth.”

  Harris grinned. “I like the sound of that. How long before it’s ready to steal?”

  “We expect it to be nearing full in three weeks. That number could easily move up or down by a week, depending on the level of refining done here on planet.”

  Tawn asked, “What about our own refining?”

  “Our process takes the ore all the way to the final product,” the colonel said. “We expect to have our first run of four titanium plates ready for evaluation by the end of this week. If successful, we should be able to ramp our production up to a hundred forty thousand plates per day. A destroyer-size vessel requires fifty thousand such plates. A cruiser class vessel has the equivalent need of double that.”

  Harris raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of ship building we could support.”

  “The Earthers already have shipyards sitting in wait for titanium. And they have the trained personnel to man them. With a new supply, our intel reasons they could be turning out two cruisers and two destroyers a day within three months. This while our own yards sit almost idle. When the truce was signed we had their fleet outnumbered by almost two to one. They could surpass us within a year. All while our politicians sit on their thumbs in denial.”

  Tawn said, “Just gives credence to what we’re doing out here.”

  Harris asked, “How are we set for guarding our transports? We don’t want them stealing titanium plates that are ready for assembly.”

  “We have a solid force ready to protect our shipments. Our vulnerability is going from here to a jump point. That’s at least forty minutes where we’re in need of an escort.”

  “What we need is more ships with railguns,” said Gandy.

  Harris half scowled. “We could use them. Only they don’t make them anymore.”

  Gandy replied, “Too bad we can’t bring some of the old Banshees online. Only they ar
en’t very good against plasma cannons.”

  “You think you could actually get a couple of those old hulls flying?”

  Gandy’s eyes grew big. “I bet I could. But how would we protect them?”

  Harris pointed back toward the Bangor. “What if we covered them with the same boxes we have on our ship?”

  Trish stepped forward. “That hull you were looking at is missing the drive.”

  “Some of the others I’ve seen aren’t. And those hulls were built in the railgun age. If we can shield the electronics they might just be effective weapons. On the Banshees it has essentially the same gun as we have on the Bangor.”

  Harris looked at the others. “We have the freighter leaving in a half hour for a supply pick-up. Who wants to go take a look at a Banshee?”

  Tawn turned to an almost giddy Gandy. “You really think you can get one of those flying?”

  “I think we can,” said Trish. “We’ll need to rent space where we can work on it. Actually, if we could get it out to Midelon, our little shop there might be all we need.”

  Harris shook his head. “We’ll rent something on Domicile. You’ll want to be there for parts anyway.”

  The colonel said, “Looks like you have an agenda. You get a few of those up and running and I can staff them with pilots.”

  “What?” Gandy blurted out. “No! I want to fly one!”

  Harris pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “You already have a ship to fly.”

  Gandy crossed his arms. “I don’t want to sound like a whiner, but she’s the one always at the controls.”

  Tawn nodded. “Might be time we look for something for Gandy and me.”

  Harris rubbed the back of his neck. “OK. Have a look around when we get back. We have the funds to refurb just about anything. Pick whatever you want.”

  A jump to Domicile was followed by a visit to the Magnessen boneyard. A fair price was negotiated for the Banshee and two of the three Zwicker hulls. A warehouse was leased and a complete suite of mechanics’ tools and shop machines purchased. Two days later the Banshee was ferried to the warehouse and moved inside.

  Gandy hopped up onto the port wing. “This is awesome.”

 

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