The A.I. War, Book One: The Big Boost (Tales of the Continuing Time)

by Moran, Daniel Keys

  23

  THE OBSERVATION DECK’S blast shield sliced down between Trent and Melissa du Bois, leaving Captain Hilè, Mohammed Vance, and Jason Lucas on the other side. Melissa’s momentum slammed Trent back into the far wall, and he didn’t make the mistake of trying to resist: he went limp and let her battle computer have the time it needed to evaluate the threat he posed. After a moment he found himself being held with her left hand on his upper arm, the laser in her right index finger pointed at his skull.

  Vance hadn’t moved except to point the laser in his fist at the blast shield that now separated him from Trent and Melissa.

  Trent looked past Mohammed Vance, met Captain Hilè’s resigned gaze.

  He nodded.

  Captain Hilè closed his eyes for a second. Then he reached forward over Mohammed Vance’s shoulder, said softly, “Forgive me,” and clamped one strong Elite cyborg arm around Mohammed Vance’s throat and hauled him backward out of the seat.

  Vance didn’t even have time to look shocked.

  The door behind Trent and Melissa du Bois curled open.

  Trent took a slow deep breath and waited to see if Melissa du Bois, who had killed seventeen people, was going to kill him.

  She wasn’t even looking at him. She stared in shock through the blast shield, didn’t move, watching the two Elite struggle silently with one another, hand lasers lit, beams swinging crazily across the observation deck as the two men wrestled.

  Jason Alexai Lucas had gotten as far as the fore doorway, and slapped the doorpad to escape, before any of the beams caught him. He scrambled through into the hallway the moment the door had curled open enough for him to squeeze through.

  “Melissa,” said Trent.

  One of the officers in the corridor outside looked through the door – and ducked back out again as a laser lashed out at him.

  With his free hand, Trent slapped Melissa hard. She looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. The index finger pointed at his skull moved forward and made contact with his skull.

  Trent spoke without the English accent. “If you ever want to be free again, this is your chance.”

  Melissa turned her head and watched the two Elite fighting.

  “Your only chance,” said Trent urgently. “I love you. I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you. You don’t ever need to kill anyone again, if you come with me now.”

  THEY RAN THROUGH the corridors. There was enough acceleration to run now, in long, bouncing strides. Melissa didn’t ask which way to go; she followed Trent.

  “What did you do with Eugene Yovia?”

  “He’s on Mars.”

  “Alive?”

  Trent glanced back at her. “Seriously?”

  She shook her head. “Stupid question. Where are we going?”

  “There’s a ship waiting for you at Docking Bay 5.”

  “For me?”

  “Just for you. There’s a different ship waiting for me.”

  “You planned this.”

  “Yes.”

  “All of it. Including –”

  “Including you. Yes.” They came to a ladder leading to the deck below – there was enough gravity to run, not enough to make Trent use the ladder. He stepped through and dropped down to the next deck, Melissa following him.

  “Can we get to Bay 5 from here?”

  “Two PKF between us and there. We’ll have to go through them.” They’d come to a hatch marked “Gym 16.” Trent undogged it and pulled himself through it –

  – they came up through the floor of the running track that Trent and Keith Daniels had run on the last few weeks; now, under acceleration, it was the wall of a large room shaped like a platter. They dropped from the hatch down to the room’s floor.

  A PKF officer carrying a pumped laser stood at the opposite hatch, 180 degrees around the track. He looked young and bewildered and a little scared. He lifted the laser but didn’t point it at them. “What’s going on? Why do we have gravity? How come nobody’s transmitting orders to me?”

  Trent walked toward him, and now the laser came up. “Get back!” the Peaceforcer yelled. “This room’s on lockdown, nobody comes through it.”

  Trent said quietly to Melissa, “Keep him talking.” He raised his hands and used Yovia’s accent. “We’re all on the same side, soldier. You recognize Chief du Bois?”

  “Of course. Chief, what’s going on?”

  “We’ve been attacked by ideologs,” Melissa said clearly. “You’re Pierre Laval?”

  “Yes, Chief.”

  “You need to let us pass. We’re on our way down to the torches to see why they’re firing.”

  “That’s a long way to go on foot,” Laval said slowly. “Why aren’t you taking a capsule?”

  “We called for one. None came.” Melissa stepped toward him. “Surely you can’t imagine your orders apply to me.”

  The pumped laser had dropped slightly: now it came up again and the officer pointed it straight at Melissa du Bois. “Chief, I have orders from Commander Vance. No one comes through here until he countermands.”

  “You haven’t received your updated orders?”

  “No.” A glimmer of hope touched his voice. “Do you have my confirmation code?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “Keep talking,” Trent whispered.

  Laval actually crouched and sighted at them over the bell-shaped muzzle. “Don’t take another step. I don’t know why my earphone has gone dead, but until I receive the confirmation code I’m expecting, no one passes. I’m sorry, Chief. I will shoot you if you take another step toward me.”

  “Idiot!” Trent yelled. “Malingerer! You’re wasting our time under critical circumstances, and we don’t have time to waste! But just for you, we’ll go back the way we came and waste another ten minutes getting a confirmation code even though the comm system’s obviously down! What’s your name?” he roared.

  The poor Peaceforcer straightened a bit, coming up out of his combat-ready crouch. “Corporal Pierre Laval, sir!”

  Trent undogged the hatch in the running track that was now the wall of the room in which they stood. “You’ll wish you hadn’t stopped us,” he said grimly. “Come on,” he said more quietly to Melissa du Bois. “Time to go.” He climbed up through the hatch – the PKF officer watched them go, obviously conflicted about even letting them leave – Trent glared at him and Laval actually stepped back a pace as the pair of them went out through the hatch.

  Melissa took a deep breath. “What now? We lost five min – where the Hell are we?” She turned and stared at him. “How did we get here? We were in 16B, this is 16C.”

  Trent grinned at her, absurdly pleased with himself. ”I rotated the track a quarter turn. Come on, we can catch a capsule for the next stretch.”

  IT TOOK THREE minutes for the capsule they caught to reach Bay 5. Melissa studied him. “It’s really you?”

  “It is.”

  “I’m surprised I didn’t kill you.”

  Trent took a deep breath. “Yeah. Glad you didn’t.”

  “I always thought I was going to.” She shook her head in sudden bewilderment. “Captain Hilè!”

  “I know.”

  “Vance will kill him.”

  “Probably.”

  “How many … of us ...” She couldn’t complete the thought.

  Trent shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

  “What happens now?”

  “Ship waiting for you,” Trent reminded her. “Different ship waiting for me. Yours goes somewhere safe … mine goes somewhere else.”

  “Where?”

  Trent shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll get the records of our conversation off of Monitor, but they might. I’ll tell you when we’re out of his range.”

  Monitor’s voice came from above and behind them. “I would never betray you, Trent. Or Chief du Bois.”

  “Why not?” Melissa asked. “What are we to you?”

  “Trent showed me that I co
uld choose my own conduct. I choose not to be a killing machine. Melissa du Bois, killing is wrong.”

  “Ah,” said Trent happily, “you’re my masterpiece, Monitor. If things go well those bastards will never catch you. It’s just that we don’t know yet that they’re going to go well.”

  “Oh, my God!” Melissa du Bois laughed with something near hysteria. “You’ve programmed him to run away!”

  “Yeah. Let’s face it,” said Trent, “you guys really should have seen this one coming.”

  JASON ALEXAI LUCAS had the confirmation codes that Trent and Melissa du Bois lacked. He used them to get through three checkpoints. Monitor wasn’t relaying messages, so none of the officers knew what was going on –

  Jason was pretty sure he knew. He had a map of the Unity in his head, and he headed for Bay 5. The last stretch would have been most easily covered by the Unity’s capsule transportation; but Jason had heard Trent giving instructions to Monitor, and he didn’t seriously consider trying to use one of them. Most likely Monitor wouldn’t have let him aboard; a worse scenario might have been that it would.

  Gravity was up around thirty percent by the time Jason reached Bay 5. He suited up in one of the public pressure suits that were kept in reserve across the Unity at all exits into death pressure – picked the largest suit on the rack and found it was just long enough for him. He wondered briefly how taller men than himself, Commander Vance for instance, were expected to get off the ship in an emergency – keep track of their own pressure suits, he supposed.

  He cycled through into vacuum.

  Twenty craft of various sizes were scattered across the flight deck. A few of them were simple sleds, frameworks with rockets attached to them; a few more were small shuttles, pressurized craft intended for four to six passengers. Five troop transports, seven freighters –

  In front of one of the troop carriers, a pair wearing PKF pressure suits stood with their helmets touching. Jason couldn’t see through their polarized face plates, but all the civilian and Space Force personnel were off the ship; it had to be Trent and du Bois.

  Their helmeted heads separated, and the shorter of the two figures leaped up into the troop carrier’s airlock. Only a few seconds later the carrier lifted on maglev, glided forward and through the bay doors, and then the rockets lit – chemical rockets, a vehicle that size, liquid monatomic hydrogen and oxygen burning in reaction –

  It was so bright that even through his polarized faceplate Jason had to look away.

  When he looked back again the man who’d been standing beside the troop carrier was gone. Jason looked wildly around the bay –

  Something hit him in the back of his helmet. The impact dazed him and he fell to his knees. He was trying to figure out what had happened to him, having trouble thinking clearly, when something lifted him off the deck, off his knees, off his feet, picked him up and carried him to the edge of the bay –

  And threw him spinning out into space.

  STARS WHEELED AROUND him.

  The voice in his head said, DON’T BE AFRAID.

  TRENT?

  YEAH.

  WELL, FINALLY. I HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT YOU, ’SIEUR CASTANAVERAS.

  Silence for a beat. HOW ARE YOU SET FOR AIR?

  Jason checked the gauge. ABOUT TWELVE HOURS.

  GOOD. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, THEN. I’LL GIVE THE PKF YOUR VECTOR IN ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES, IF THEY DON’T PICK YOU UP BEFORE THEN. I’M SURE THEY’LL SEND SOMEONE OUT TO GET YOU.

  WHAT IF THEY DON’T?

  HAVE YOU ANGERED VANCE LATELY? HE’S MORE PRONE TO LETTING PEOPLE WORRY ABOUT BEING EXECUTED FOR DISAPPOINTING HIM, THAN ACTUALLY EXECUTING THEM.

  The rotation was starting to make Jason queasy. I DON’T THINK I’VE DONE ANYTHING THAT WOULD MAKE HIM THAT ANGRY AT ME.

  SO YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE FROM LACK OF AIR, AND VANCE VERY PROBABLY ISN’T GOING TO EXECUTE YOU.

  I’M NOT AFRAID OF DYING.

  THERE YOU GO. I REMEMBER YOU, FROM THE OLD DAYS. YOU’RE MACOUTE, RIGHT?

  I USED TO BE.

  YOU EVER KILL ANYONE?

  ONE PERSON. I HAD TO.

  A TEMPLE DRAGON?

  NO. JUST BY CHANCE, NO.

  EVER KILL ANYONE ELSE?

  NO.

  I’LL TAKE YOUR WORD FOR IT, JASON. OF COURSE, IF YOU’RE LYING TO ME AND YOU DON’T DIE, I’LL FIND OUT.

  The stars wheeled by Jason’s eyes, a slow rotation that made him queasy to look at. Finally he shut his eyes and floated in the dark. THAT SUPPOSED TO WORRY ME?

  IT WOULD WORRY ME, IF I WERE YOU, said Trent. OF COURSE, I’M NOT YOU, YOU’RE ME … IF YOU DON’T START BREATHING A LITTLE BETTER, YOU’RE GOING TO THROW UP IN YOUR SUIT. YOU REALLY DON’T WANT TO DO THAT. I SAW A MAN STRANGLE THAT WAY ONCE.

  BAD WAY TO GO, I IMAGINE.

  THERE ARE NEITHER GOOD WAYS NOR BAD WAYS. JUST WAYS.

  YOU REALLY BELIEVE THIS CRAP?

  HOW YOU LIVE MATTERS. HOW YOU DIE DOESN’T.

  IT MATTERS TO ME.

  Jason could almost feel the smile on Trent’s face. NOT FOR LONG, IF YOU’RE LUCKY. NOT FOR VERY LONG, EVEN IF YOU’RE NOT. IT’S HARD TO SPEND A REALLY LONG TIME DYING. YOU GET BORED AND FIND YOURSELF LIVING AGAIN, WHILE YOU’RE WAITING TO DIE. SOME PEOPLE, ONCE AWARE OF THEIR OWN MORTALITY, CRAM THEIR ENTIRE LIVES INTO THOSE FEW BORED MOMENTS WHEN THEY’RE NOT WAITING TO DIE. THAT’S A VERY BAD WAY TO LIVE.

  Jason concentrated on his breathing. He could feel the queasiness in his stomach, threatening to erupt.

  VANCE OWNS YOU, Trent said. HE’S DONE TO YOU WHAT HE DOES TO EVERYONE, SACRIFICED YOU TO THE GREATER GOOD. THE FACT THAT HE DOES IT TO HIMSELF AS WELL IS NO EXCUSE.

  HE DOESN’T GIVE YOU A LOT OF CHOICE.

  CHOICE IS THE ONE THING NOT EVEN VANCE CAN TAKE FROM YOU. YOU ARE ETERNALLY YOURSELF, JASON ALEXAI LUCAS, AND YOUR FEAR OF VANCE IS YOU TURNING AWAY FROM THE CHOICE TO BE WHO YOU WISH TO BE.

  I’M NOT AFRAID.

  Trent let that hang there a moment. NOT AFRAID OF DYING, I BELIEVE THAT, MACOUTE THAT YOU WERE. AFRAID OF LIVING? LET GO, JASON. PAIN GOES AWAY, AND IT HURTS LESS THAN FEAR WHILE IT LASTS. NOTHING DOES LAST, NOT GOOD THINGS OR BAD, NOT SUCCESS OR FAILURE, NOT LIFE ITSELF; AND NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU FAIL, WHILE LIFE REMAINS YOU CAN ALWAYS GIVE YOURSELF ANOTHER CHANCE EVEN IF NO ONE ELSE WILL; CAN ALWAYS CHOOSE TO TRY AGAIN.

  Trent’s voice was growing fainter. HERE ARE THE THINGS I WISH SOMEBODY HAD TOLD ME, WHEN I WAS YOUNG.

  KNOW WHAT YOU’RE USING YOUR LIFE FOR. YOU ONLY GET ONE AND IF YOU SPEND IT ON SOMETHING FOOLISH THEN YOU ARE A FOOL, AND YOU’LL DIE FEELING LIKE ONE.

  NEVER HURT ANYONE YOU DON’T HAVE TO; NEVER TAKE ANY SHIT FROM ANYONE. WHEN YOU ARE READY TO DIE RATHER THAN BE PUSHED, PEOPLE WILL STOP PUSHING YOU. WHEN YOU’RE NOT AFRAID, NO ONE CAN HAVE A HOLD UPON YOU THAT YOU DON’T GIVE THEM WILLINGLY.

  TO BE HAPPY, BE VIRTUOUS. THERE ARE ONLY TWO REASONS TO EVER DO ANYTHING; TO BE HAPPY, AND TO HELP OTHER PEOPLE BE HAPPY. ALL VIRTUE LIES IN THE SECOND HALF OF THAT, IN WORKING FOR OTHERS, IN PROTECTING THE WEAK FROM THE STRONG.

  THIS IS TODAY’S LESSON, said Trent the Uncatchable. THIS IS EVERYTHING IMPORTANT I THINK I KNOW ABOUT BEING A MAN.

  As Jason drifted in the silent void, watching the stars wheel around him, Trent’s voice came to him a last time:

  GOOD LUCK, JASON ALEXAI LUCAS. I LOVE YOU.

  24

  A VEHICLE OF some sort was chasing him.

  The sled Trent had taken from the Unity was a two seater. It had plenty of boost for his purposes; he’d reached turnover not long after losing touch with Jason Lucas. Since then he’d been decelerating.

  The sled had no instruments other than short radar. It showed a vehicle several klicks back of Trent, and gaining on him. All the radar told him was that it was bigger than a sled. Trent merely hoped that whatever it was, it was from the Unity – vehicles aboard the Unity hadn’t had their missiles mounted yet.

  Further behind the near vehicle, Trent knew there were other vehicle
s: he saw stars being eclipsed. It made him grateful for the nearer chase ship – Trent was pretty sure the further vehicles were PKF corvettes, and the only reason he hadn’t been fired upon was the ship in between him and them.

  Francis Xavier Chandler’s house was less than a kilometer away.

  THE ANGER BURNED in Mohammed Vance, the worst anger he’d felt in his fifty years. Sitting alone in the pilot’s chair of the small shuttle he’d taken from the Unity, his pulse pounded in his ears and the stink from his uniform, soaked with Adrian’s blood, was so vile he couldn’t think clearly.

  He was so angry that his combat computer refused to turn off.

  He’d known Adrian Hilè since they’d been teenagers together, at the PKF Academy in Marseille. Thirty-two years ago. Vance had introduced Adrian to his wife – dead now, Adrian’s wife had died not long after the TriCentennial, Vance couldn’t recall what the cause was.

  Melissa had betrayed him.

  Trent had stolen, was stealing his ship. The acceleration aboard the Unity had reached one gravity and was still increasing, as the ship boosted directly toward the sun. Vance had left officers aboard, but they were trapped – doors wouldn’t open for them, those who made the mistake of entering the transport capsules weren’t let back out again. Monitor was evacuating the air from the ship, clearing the ship of PKF a deck at a time. None of the PKF Vance had had aboard the ship were wearing pressure suits, though most of them had left their suits at various airlocks. Vance had ships preparing to chase Unity sunward, but they were taking time to get equipped with gear to burn through decks and bulkheads once they’d caught up with Unity and matched velocities, all assuming Monitor didn’t use Unity’s lasers to shoot down any chase ships that came too close –

  Certainly Vance knew as well as anyone that nothing short of nuclear weapons was going to disable the Unity itself.

  Very soon now Vance was going to have to give the order to abandon the Unity. Only the few Elite left aboard would have a shot of reaching Monitor’s core systems, or the rockets – when Unity reached two gravities acceleration, no one but the Elite would be functional.

  He was going to have to call Adrian’s parents, and tell them how their son had died.