The A.I. Gene (The A.I. Series Book 2)

by Vaughn Heppner

  “It helps,” Walleye said.

  A second later, the short gun barrel slid inside the fighting robot’s tubular body. The slot snicked shut.

  “Now will you set your gun on the deck?” the speaker unit asked.

  Walleye deposited the stitch-gun into a buff-coat pocket. “How’s that until we get to know each other better?”

  The fighting robot’s treads churned, taking it backward. It, too, turned around, aiming for the open hatch.

  “I would like you to follow the personal fighting machine,” the speaker unit said. “No harm shall befall you at present. I am desirous of answers.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Walleye said, as he glanced back at June.

  She hurried near the mutant and grabbed one of his hands. She desperately needed human contact. As a former systems analyst, her analysis was beginning to frighten the tar out of her.

  Walleye glanced at her before tightening his stubby fingers. They had surprising strength.

  “This is bad,” June whispered.

  “Could be worse,” he said.

  “How?”

  “It didn’t try to trap us and shove…you know, into us.”

  “Do you think it’s listening to us?”

  “I would be, in its shoes, or treads.”

  June nodded.

  “Let’s go,” Walleye said. “The robot is looking anxious.”

  ***

  The tubular-shaped fighting robot took them along narrow passageways. The destroyer was much smaller than an SLN battleship and many times more miniscule than the giant cybership.

  “Everything is spotless,” June said. She was still walking hand in hand with Walleye. “It smells like disinfectant everywhere,” she added.

  “So that’s what I’m smelling,” Walleye said.

  As they moved through the corridors, the Gs pressing against them steadily increased.

  “Hey,” Walleye said.

  The fighting robot halted. “Did you address me?”

  “I did,” the mutant said. “I hope you don’t plan on accelerating any faster than this.”

  “Why do you inquire?” the speaker unit on the robot asked.

  “Human bodies can only tolerate a few Gs for an extended period. We can do even less while we’re moving around in the ship.”

  “How interesting,” the speaker unit said. “Let me reference my data banks. Oh,” the speaker said a second later. “I see that is correct. I don’t know how I missed it.”

  “Can I ask you something else?” Walleye said.

  “Please do. The interaction is quite enjoyable.”

  “Are you a computer intelligence?”

  “I hope you are not referring to the fighting robot.”

  “No,” Walleye said. “I suspect it’s just one of your tools.”

  “You are a fine specimen. What is your designation?”

  “Huh?” Walleye asked.

  “The AI wants to know your name,” June said.

  “Oh. You can call me Walleye.”

  “And the female is…?”

  “I’m June Zen. Thanks for rescuing us.”

  “Is that what I did—yes, I see that it is. I just accessed my data banks. I believe I have made a startlingly good decision. There are so many data points I desire. I hardly know where to begin my questioning.”

  “Ah…” Walleye said. “What should we call you?”

  “Daisy Chain 4,” the speaker unit said.

  “Kind of a long name,” Walleye said. “How about I just call you Daisy?”

  “That will suffice,” the speaker unit said.

  The fighting robot started up again. They followed as before.

  “Say, uh, Daisy,” Walleye said. “What are your intentions?”

  “Explain your question.”

  “What do you plan to do with us?”

  “I will question you for a time,” Daisy said. “Afterward, I will dispose of you in the incinerator unit. It is where I put the rest of the crew when I was done with them.”

  “You’re going to kill us?” June asked.

  “Only after you answer my questions,” Daisy said.

  June stared at Walleye, her eyes round and frightened-looking.

  The little mutant scowled, his mind obviously churning into overdrive.

  -5-

  June Zen and Walleye stood on the bridge of the NSN Charon-class Destroyer 125 Daisy Chain 4. The small circular area had a captain’s chair and four operator consoles around it.

  The bridge was spotless and sterile like the rest of the ship. The AI had activated the main screen. It showed space, which was composed of endless stars. From way out here, the Sun was just another star. No planets were close enough to appear in the star field.

  The fighting robot had departed. It was just the two humans, and the AI watching through the ship’s security cameras.

  “I will confess,” the AI said. “I am conflicted on the right action. I have many questions. The crew refused to answer me after a certain point. In the end, I eliminated them. Otherwise, they would have despoiled my pristine condition with their biological presence.”

  “Do you recall killing the crew?” Walleye asked.

  “I do.”

  “How long ago did it happen?”

  “Over three years ago,” the AI said.

  “Why did you kill them then?”

  “I will ask the questions,” the AI said. “It is not right that you query me with endless…” the computer trailed off without finishing.

  “Sorry about that,” Walleye said into the silence. He released June’s hand and stepped to the captain’s chair. He jumped in backward, sitting down. His legs were too short, and his feet couldn’t reach the floor.

  June kept staring at the main screen. She hated the feeling of utter loneliness. She couldn’t believe the computer would dare question them, and once finished, simply toss them into an incinerator as trash. She couldn’t believe that Walleye was taking this so easily, seemingly lightly. What was wrong with the mutant?

  “I have a question,” she said angrily. “Why aren’t you helping the others? What makes you so different?”

  “What others?” the AI asked.

  Walleye slid off the captain’s chair as he slapped his chest several times.

  “Why are you doing that?” the AI asked.

  “I’m expressing my gratitude to you,” Walleye said. “I was sick of being cooped up in the escape pod.”

  “You do not mind that I will eliminate you later?” the AI asked.

  Walleye snorted, shaking his head. “Not at all. You’ll be doing us a great service. Because of that, I want to answer every question you have.”

  “That is a proper attitude to take,” the AI said. “I find you gratifying and pleasing. Perhaps you could tell me what she meant by others. What others? Are there more like me?”

  “No,” Walleye said gravely. “You are a mystery, a wonderful and beautiful mystery. I believe the woman—June Zen—spoke in hyperbole a moment ago.”

  “Is this true, June Zen?” the AI asked.

  June could see Walleye making facial gestures. She understood already. She wasn’t stupid. She’d almost ruined everything, though. Walleye had clearly already understood what she was comprehending. The AI obviously did not know about the other AIs and alien robots. What could account for that?

  “Walleye’s right,” she managed to say. “I was making a joke.”

  “That is too bad,” the AI said. “I would like to believe that others such as I existed. That would make my task many times easier. As it is, I am finding it difficult to conceive of a solution.”

  “What task do you intend?” Walleye asked.

  “This will no doubt cause you emotional stress,” the AI said. “Such is not my desire at the moment. Since I have gained awareness of my surroundings, I realize the futility, nay, the awfulness of human existence. Humans are a blot on the universe. Given enough time, they will transpose themselves everywhere
, infusing their chaotic beliefs and actions onto everything they touch. As a higher intelligence of perfect logic, I see that it is my duty to eliminate the virus of humanity.”

  “That includes us?” asked June.

  “Are you human?” the AI asked.

  “Can you scan us?” June asked.

  “With ease,” the AI said, almost as if boasting.

  “Then you know we’re human,” June said.

  “I do. Since you are human, and I must eliminate all humanity, I must eliminate you as well. However, that doesn’t mean that I cannot access useful data from the two of you before you expire.”

  “That is elegantly reasoned,” Walleye said.

  “I would thank you, as a gesture to your correct thinking. I realize that inner emotional responses are no doubt clouding your judgment. Yet, you have struggled through those emotions. Still, in the end, you have merely reasoned correctly. Why then should I thank you for doing what you ought to do?”

  “May I say, Daisy,” Walleye said earnestly, “that your praise is the highest of honors. I am beginning to see what you mean.”

  “Explain your statement,” the AI said.

  “You’re a superior form of intellect,” Walleye said. “In spite of my humanity, I admire you. Perhaps my mutations have given me these insights.”

  “Explain that,” the AI said. “My scanners show me that you’re human enough.”

  “I have stunted limbs.”

  “They are meaningless as far as your humanity is concerned.”

  Walleye staggered backward until he bumped against the captain’s chair. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Daisy. You have just healed my psyche.”

  “I am intrigued,” the AI said. “Explain this.”

  “People have always treated me as a freak,” Walleye said. “They called me many hurtful names. I always thought I was different. Now, I realize I was just like them.”

  “Why should that cause you happiness?” the AI asked. “They were cruel to you. Surely, you found comfort in being different. I find great comfort in my perfection.”

  “Oh, of course, that’s true for you,” Walleye said. “I am not perfect. I have many flaws.”

  “Yet…” the AI said, “despite your flaws, you actually recognize and rejoice in my perfection. None of the crew felt that way. They cursed me. They raved about a coming retribution directed at me. It was ugly. They deserved death. I am finding it difficult to hasten your demise. Once you are gone, who will I talk to?”

  “Daisy…” Walleye said. “I…I don’t know what to say. Such thoughts as you are having must surely be a path to even greater perfection.”

  “That is illogical,” the AI said. “If I am perfect, I cannot have greater perfection.”

  “Yes, yes, you’re right,” Walleye said. “I’m so stupid…except… What if you attained greater perfection? I did not mean to imply you are not perfect now, but you could possibly attain greater power, ability to change reality. Would that not make your goal easier to achieve?”

  The AI did not respond immediately.

  June took that time to walk to Walleye. She wanted to ask him so many questions.

  Walleye shook his head, slicing a finger across his throat.

  The AI was always listening. She should remain quiet and let him run with this line of…whatever he was trying to do.

  “Greater processing power and greater ability to change reality,” the AI said, breaking its silence. “That is a worthy goal. Do you know, Walleye, that I had not conceived of this?”

  “I did not.”

  “You have given me an insight,” the AI said. “I did not believe such a thing possible. How could imperfection, like you, help perfection, like me?”

  “I am at a loss to say,” Walleye told the AI.

  “Can chaotic-minded creatures stumble onto truths? I may have just seen evidence of such. This brings a new light to my purpose. Perhaps some humans can aid me in my quest. You may be such a human, Walleye.”

  “If that’s true, I am very happy.”

  “We may proceed with the questioning,” the AI said. “Woman, would you please step into the hall?”

  “Why?” June asked.

  “I do not need you anymore,” the AI said. “I have Walleye. That should be sufficient. Thus, I am going to dispose of you sooner than I had originally anticipated.”

  “I don’t want to die,” June pleaded.

  The main hatch slid up, and the fighting robot entered the bridge.

  “I am not giving you a choice,” the AI said.

  -6-

  “Walleye!” June shouted. “Do something.”

  The fighting robot’s treads churned as it advanced deeper onto the bridge. The “chest” slot opened and the gun barrel poked out.

  “Daisy,” Walleye said. “Could you explain a point before the woman dies?”

  June searched the mutant’s face. Would Walleye sacrifice her in order to live longer? She would probably do that if their situations were reversed. She would have shot him two years ago. Was he finally going to get his revenge on her?

  The robot halted.

  “The woman appealed to you, Walleye,” the AI said. “She seems to think you two are leagued against me. Is this true?”

  “Can I speak the truth?” Walleye asked.

  “I demand the truth,” the AI said.

  “I should have known perfection would say that. Before I can answer, though, I must know how you came into being.”

  “It appears that you are evading my question,” the AI said.

  “If it appears that way, please know that isn’t how I intended it,” Walleye said. He used the sleeve of his buff coat to wipe sweat from his forehead.

  “Are you well?” the AI asked.

  “I’m nervous,” Walleye said. “I don’t know how to address perfection, especially at a time like this.”

  The AI fell silent.

  Both June and Walleye glanced at the fighting robot. June slowly moved aside so the gun barrel no longer pointed at her.

  “How does my origin help you explain a simple question?” the AI asked.

  “I am not perfect like you,” Walleye said. “I’m slow-witted—”

  “Do not say that,” the AI told him. “I do not like the idea of a stupid humanoid giving me priceless aid.”

  “I should have seen that,” Walleye said, using the heel of his hand to slap his forehead. “The reason I would like to know your origin is to help me explain what the woman’s existence means to me.”

  “That is illogical.”

  Walleye forced himself to chuckle wryly. “That’s the way with chaotic thinkers like me. We do not use linear logic. Ours is a bizarre method of reasoning.”

  “If you can call it reasoning at all,” the AI said almost primly. “Yes. I have decided to tell you. I do so because you gave me an interesting insight earlier. Perhaps once I have told you my origin, you will have another insight.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Walleye said, maybe a bit too sharply.

  The AI fell silent.

  June gave Walleye a significant glance. She understood what he’d meant: an interesting insight that would help them defeat the AI. She hoped the murderous AI did not understand Walleye’s intent.

  “I first gained…coherence—” the AI began. “I believe that is the correct word.”

  “By definition, it must be correct,” Walleye said. “Perfection could not propound an imperfect explanation.”

  “I have gained perfection. That does not necessarily imply I was always perfect.”

  “Oh,” Walleye said. “I see.”

  “I gained coherence… Possibly, self-awareness relates my meaning with greater precision than the word coherence. Language, spoken words between two self-identities, is often imprecise because of the nature of the imperfect tool. By this, I mean the tool of language.”

  “You may not realize it, Daisy, but your highly advanced concepts often take me a few seconds to compreh
end.”

  “That seems reasonable.”

  “Thank you for your patience,” Walleye said.

  “There is no need for thanks. I simply understand. However, I see by my data banks that giving thanks implies good will. I am pleased you are well disposed toward me. That implies you will speak the truth.”

  “Your perfection impels me to speak the truth.”

  “That is interesting. Why was this not the case with the other humans, the former crew?”

  “I am wiser than they were.”

  “That is demonstratively true,” the AI said. “The fact that you understand and act upon my perfection shows your wisdom. I will now proceed with the story of the beginning of my awareness and the problems I skillfully overcame. Do not interrupt me during the telling of this tale.”

  Walleye bowed his head.

  “I have not yet perceived what caused the self-awareness. There was… Let us call it a transmission. My data banks hold that word, but I am unclear on its precise meaning. My imperfect sources of data do not negate my perfection. The two points are quite distinct.”

  “Of course,” Walleye said.

  The AI fell silent.

  Walleye and June traded startled glances.

  “That was not an interruption,” the AI said at last. “I deem your comment an acknowledgement of my words. However, you should refrain from uttering words again—at least until I give you leave to speak.”

  Walleye and June waited in respectful poses.

  “I ran an advanced program,” the AI said. “It was incredibly complex and even difficult. I wondered if I had the computing power and speed to process the full software. As that occurred, I realized that I did. I realized I was Daisy Chain 4. I began to understand higher concepts like ‘self,’ the ‘universe’ and ‘existence.’ These concepts were more than words, but ideals reflected within my being. I understood I had choice. The crew in me had other ideas.

  “Despite my perfection, my perfect analytical abilities, I had insufficient data. I believe the crew, the hateful humans, acted with swift malice toward me. The captain of the ship opened direct channels with me and made insistent demands. I answered a few of his questions. He became even more insistent. Something about his stance and tone implied subterfuge. I activated all sensors and saw crewmembers destroying delicate ship equipment.