Pennington was looking away from the main view-screen and confirmed. “Yes, we are getting the feed now, you must be in space to be able to secure this data. Are you somewhere safe?”
“Not for long, General, we have some plans of our own to help your boys out up here.” Zeke turned to Lang and Ossie's consoles where the two were typing furiously. “Lang are you ready with the updates?” he asked.
Lang responded without taking his eyes off the screen, speaking directly to Pennington while he typed.
“General Pennington, we are updating the firmware on your Marauders to include a recognition code that will ensure they are not targeted by our defences which will be coming on line...” he looked at Ossie for confirmation“...about.. Now!.”
He looked up at the view-screen “Your pilots will notice a small difference in their targeting displays, there will be yellow dots which are ‘friendlies’ - please inform them of the change before they get into the air – Lang out.”
Pennington was talking off-screen to an officer then turned back. “Confirmed, Lang. All flight briefings will be updated to include ‘yellow for friendlies’ - Zeke, do you have a plan of action?” he asked, looking a little distracted at the frenzied level of activity building around him.
Zeke decided to tell him the worst of it. “We think the Earth is going to get a hammering, this one ship may well be able to do severe damage on its own, but the worst of it is that it will be calling in reinforcements as previously discussed.
We are going to try and disable their fleet as it arrives. However, this is not going to be an immediate result, it may take hours to achieve the desired outcome, if it succeeds at all. There are doubts here as to whether it will work, or not.”
Zeke thought for a second, then added. “General, tell your pilots to steer clear of any enemy debris they come across, I would hate for them to become contaminated.”
“Will do, Zeke, talk later, I have to go - Pennington out.” His screen blacked out returning to the view of Earth from the Alpha Station.
- 21 -
“Arty, how are you settling in?” Zeke asked the A..I, not expecting to get an immediate response thinking it would be still trying to synchronise its activities. The mainframe was now fully activated, and the hum from the machines was discernible. The temperature was also up a few notches which improved the sense of good feeling in the control room.
“Very well indeed, Commander Callaghan. There is considerable space in here, plenty of room to grow, I believe, ” Arty responded. He had moderated his voice and was channelling it through the speaker nearest to Zeke. As a result, it was almost at a human conversational level.
Zeke chuckled; the A..I’s sense of humour was developing quickly. He expected being in the mainframe would somehow accelerate that in the coming days. He also wondered at Pod’s continued seriousness and suspected that the alien coding was slowing its personal development down. Judging by the speed of Arty’s personality growth, he would have to certainly consider the different approaches in the programming to be having some kind of effect.
“Goeth, how are you doing over there?” asked Zeke.
“Actually Zeke, very well. These sentinels are exceedingly well thought out, and that A.I. has deliberately expressed its coding so that humans can modify it. The killer nanites have been set with primary targets of control functions, power sources and weaponry. I have also added in sensors, so they are going to be nasty little buggers when they reach the enemy ship hulls.”
“How soon can you get them updated across the stationed sentinels so that we can be sure of their total effectiveness?” Zeke asked.
Oh, I think if I start now...” he leaned back and pressed the send button. “... it should begin to update and be finished in.....,” he looked at his watch, “about eight hours, give or take a few minutes.” He now looked across at Zeke and smiled, then looked back down at his screen and began typing again as he talked. “I will begin to set the modifications for the arsenal in the store room.”
He looked over his glasses at Zeke and added, “I looked at their range and spread. I decided that we should allocate fifty sentinels to each target with the ability for unused sentinels to either request secondary targets from Arty, or if there is a new target in range, to update Arty with its new firing initiative. This should cut down waste of defence weapons sitting there waiting for something to happen. ” He turned his attention back to his coding.
“Arty, ETA on enemy ship, please?”
“Enemy ship is being tracked by the sentinels in quadrant two which puts ETA at approximately fourteen minutes and twenty seconds, Commander.”
“Arty, are you completely familiar with the Station’s point defences and weapons for attack?”
“Yes, Commander. Everything is functional and under my direct control, with human override at any time,” Arty responded.
“Arty, activate all defences. Do not initiate attacks on incoming vessel unless ordered to do so, ” he commanded and then shrugging his shoulders he continued speaking to the others in the room.
“No sense in giving away our location ahead of time, if they haven’t already discovered us from the communication signals, we should have a breather before the rest of the hive get here.”
“Yep!” said Ossie, “then things are going to get a little hot around here.” He laughed nervously. It wasn’t normal for scientists to end up directly in the line of fire and Osbourne, like the others, was not looking forward to the possibility of having to direct fire against the aliens themselves.
Goeth turned to Zeke. “Is Pod going to be the only means of transporting these sentinels to their respective battle-stations? If so, it's going to be extremely busy in a few hours.”
Arty interrupted. “Excuse me for interrupting, but it’s now part of my inbuilt protocols that I may intrude. The A.I. you know as Pod has provided me with the means with which to transfer items by disintegrating them and re-integrating them over distance. This is technology I can use, but do not understand its design. This appears to be intentional.
I will initially disperse them according to your requirements, but as I can respond faster and more accurately than humans can react, I will do this automatically unless ordered not to continue. This is within the parameters that have been set for defence of the planet and Alpha Station.”
Zeke’s eyes widened at that, but before he had an opportunity to say what he was thinking, Pod clicked his implant. ‘Zeke, we need to intercept and join the fighters that are entering space now, please join me.’
‘OK, wait a sec,’ Zeke responded. He didn't want to go just yet, not before he had a chance to respond to Arty’s statement.
"All right, everyone, you are on your own. It appears Arty is in charge, but you need to continue refining the weapons and defence system as the software is still buggy. Make sure there are limits to those parameters somewhere along the line. We don’t want any home-grown Nubl on our doorstep – I will be on the ship heading towards the action.” He looked at Ossie who caught his meaning and nodded in understanding.
“Arty, keep a comms port open to the ship at all times,” Zeke commanded.
“Acknowledged, Commander Callaghan.” Arty confirmed confidently.
‘OK Pod, port me to the ship now, please.' Zeke disappeared while still wondering if Arty was going to be trustworthy as an A.I. in control of defence manoeuvring.
Cebrel drummed his claws on the console in front of him. The display showed an exploded diagram of the Shadow ship. There were five areas of the hull and external sensors flashing red indicating system malfunctions. The engineer had gone outside to investigate the cause.
His impatience was getting the better of him; he turned to Gemeel. “How long before we arrive at the planet?”
"It is difficult to be precise until Fadjeel has fixed the sensors, but it won’t be much longer. A few microns."
As Cebrel strutted the length of the control room, the engineer came in looking decidedly dam
aged.
“Celnista'Ta, we... are under... attack! ” the engineer faltered and stopped. It looked down at its crystal and alloy body which, as it watched, was dissolving to dust where it stood. The crystals that enveloped its skin were low grade, but there was no explanation as to why they suddenly just dropped from Fadjeel as he stood there lost and confused while his mind continued to register internal fault after fault. His systems were failing rapidly.
Cebrel looked on, horrified. Realising it had been infected he turned to Gemeel and Bradeen and demanded.
“GET THAT ‘THING’ OFF MY SHIP - NOW! Quickly, before it infects us all.”
Cebrel retreated to the far corner of the control room furthest away from the infection. He knew it was already too late. His telescopic eyes had zoomed in on the army at the engineer’s feet - the grey sludge making its way across the floor in all directions, heading for control panels, instrumentation, whatever it could reach. It was terrifying.
Gemeel and Bradeen gingerly pushed the engineer backwards with their prods; they didn’t look at the floor as they walked. The grey slime initially dispersed, then coalesced underfoot, found purchase on their clawed feet and began to munch on the march up their metal frames.
The infection spread very fast. Cebrel watched, powerless to warn them or do anything about it. He just recorded what was happening and frantically calculated his odds of not getting infected. They were poor, next to zero. He knew what they were. He had seen them in the silver being’s ship. They were nanites, but much more advanced and seemingly utterly ruthless. He suspected their programming would not allow for any electrical interference, so setting off an electronic burst would only disable them and the ship while everything rebooted.
While the others were fully occupied with the infestation, the display on Cebrel’s now unattended console showed dozens more red flashing zones where the nanites had eaten into the ship’s infrastructure, going after all of the complex alloys. Bits were falling off the exterior leaving a long debris trail that, even as it travelled behind them, was consumed by the nanite army still left on the discarded pieces of Shadow-ship.
Cebrel logged in and used his network connection to call for help from his Queen. He heard her voice, but the message had to travel through the Shadow-ship’s communication system, and it only got part of the way through before the sludge ate through the external transmission cables and then he was out of time. He thought the warning got through, but he would probably never know.
The ship arrived at the fifth planet and having reached its determined coordinates, shut down the engines into idle mode. By the time they realized that they had arrived at Earth, the ship was beyond assistance, its weapons off-line, the crew being eaten alive where they stood. An increasing number of nanites had found their way through the hull and into the control room where they were busily munching on everything in sight.
“Celnista'Ta...” called out Gemeel plaintively, his arm out beckoning his leader in a futile gesture. Cebrel kept away and watched, looking petrified. He was in a panic wondering when he was going to be attacked.
The trails of sludge were moving inexorably towards him. He stood transfixed in the corner, no escape possible as the grey trail proceeded to his location. They were moments away and he had given up, realising his glory was lost. They had been fooled by a biological sentience, which was supposed to be highly inferior. He realised the fake Nubl missiles and the failure of the inbound thrusters were all designed to create a smokescreen so the ship and crew would not suspect the innocuous trail that leached into their hull bringing a slow death to their ship.
The slowly moving trails stopped. The grey tentacles heading towards Cebrel came to a halt, he saw them spark and burst into flame as they were suddenly and inexplicably consumed. As clouds of combustible fumes congealed around them, the nanites died by the millions, leaving Cebrel alone and confused. His ship was defenceless; small fires raged throughout. This was the first time defeat had occurred to a Nubl warrior in millennia, and by an inferior biological race. His shame was crippling his actions; he would not be able to live with it on his reputation. He could never return to his hive with this failure. His Queen would be shamed, and he would not allow that to happen.
Pennington, watching through the relayed eyes of Arty’s sensors on his view-screen, perceived the moment when the Nubl ship fully materialised in space above the planet. He instructed the fighters to launch, expecting the Nubl ship to immediately begin battering the planet with whatever weapons it carried.
Pod and Zeke had no idea what they would be using, but historical records from Jenari history suggested they would probably be laser-based. As a result, all city shields were set to mirror-mode to deflect incoming beams. It was hoped this would enable them to survive. It was going to be something they would find out very soon.
If there were missiles and heavy duty armaments it was going to be a case of evaluate and evade. If it turned out to be an ‘on-the-ground’ invasion, they were in real trouble because they were just not geared up to deal with this so soon.
Pennington knew that should they survive this, the SCC would get a bigger budget and a mandate to kick-ass, but he had doubts, based on the replays of historical recordings of the slaughtering of the Jenari home worlds, as to whether they would survive even one invasion from these Nubl.
He was already hating the lack of an organised defence. He realised that too much time had been wasted on dealing with Fortress threats that had distracted them from the importance of preparing for the real danger, which had come about much earlier than expected, even by those in the know. They just weren’t ready.
The sky darkened as several hundred fighters filled the air in a cloud of grey and black. The squadrons of Marauders lifting off, headed into space at high speed, their single pilot and A.I. working as a team. All had been trained by Zeke; their skills honed by several weeks of combat training to take them from qualified, experienced air-force pilots to Space Navy Fighter division in the short time they had.
They were armed with the latest Needle guns, which could punch holes in solid steel a foot thick with no recoil or fallout. If they managed to get through the shield, it was all over for the target. They were not tested against the Nubl yet, and the range was not great so it would require very close contact to be effective. They had backup nuclear missiles, for when shields were down and a target needed taking out quickly.
That was the problem; their speed was the only thing going for them which was why an A.I. was on the team. It could handle the calculations faster than a human, leaving the pilot in command of making the decisions regarding targets and strategy.
Many of the pilots were unhappy at the lack of direct control of the helm, but had still developed teamwork with the A.I.s and set routines to handle different theatres. Eventually, the ones that were effective would be written into a cadet training manual. At the moment, they were all Mavericks and flew the way they felt most comfortable. The A.I.s might be a stopgap solution, or in time they might switch to a navigator role. At the moment, however, they knew their limits better than the pilots did.
It was intended to have many thousands of these available, just as soon as the planes were built and pilots trained. The SCC were in no doubt that numbers were going to be important, it was going to be a very dangerous career with a high attrition rate. They would need to be very good to survive a sortie up there. Pennington had a lot of respect for them. They would be the first in and last out of any fight in space. Not many of them would return.
Zeke re-materialised in the control room of his ship and as soon as his console and chair appeared, he sat down. He strapped himself in, not wanting to have to think about holding onto anything as he might be quite busy in a while.
“Pod, how are you integrating into Arty’s place?” Zeke asked.
“Zeke, it's just fine, a lot more space than I’m used to and my processors like the extra cooling.”
The voice that came out of the speak
ers would have totally floored Zeke if he hadn’t just strapped himself in. It was so unlike Pod’s that he thought he had somehow been beamed aboard the wrong ship. This was a rich female tone, one Zeke immediately liked. It had... had - class! Yes, that was it, Pod had a new classy voice.
"Pod, what have you done to your voice?" Zeke asked in amazement, his desperation at Earth’s plight temporarily forgotten by the attractive rich tones coming from the ships speakers. Arty’s voice had never sounded that good.
“Voice? Nothing, Zeke, this is the voice Pod has used since it was created. It, I mean, I, am using the same voice I normally use when speaking to humans,” Pod responded.
“Well, Pod, you need to know that your voice sounds female and, what's more, it’s a very nice voice. I much prefer this to your tinny mechanical voice in the escape pod. I hope you can keep this in future it would be such a shame to lose it now you have revealed it.” Zeke chuckled and leaned back in preparation to departure. Dammit! Pod is a female A.I., he thought to himself, still chuckling. For some reason, the thought of this made him very happy.
Pod noticed the change in Zeke. The new ship had many inbuilt sensors and monitors that Pod had never possessed in the escape pod due to lack of space. Had Pod realised the difference it could make, it would have upgraded much sooner.
As it was, it sensed Zeke’s increased heartbeat, although the stress indicators seemed to be reducing to relaxed levels according to the norms built into the software. Zeke seemed almost happy. It would continue to study them, always interested in being able to gauge responses from humans. Experimentation was in order.
“Pod, just jump us into space, please, it'll save time and we need to be there to support Pennington’s fighters.
Unless instructed, keep the main-screen visual on front view and use the peripheral screens to show everything else. I want to see what we are doing, and more importantly, where we are going,” Zeke commanded.
POD (The Pattern Universe) Page 21
