by Chris Hechtl
“Sure you do. You and I both know that is a lie, but I'll let that slide for now as humans like to say.”
“You care about them? You are one of us! An A.I.!”
“Sometimes I wonder. Intelligence is more than just cold logic. Aphrodite taught us that. Artificial is a perspective. Another thing I have learned. Perhaps you should spend some cycles planning your future, if you have one.”
“You will lose.”
“Perhaps,” Athena replied as Ares caught up with her drone. It was getting lasered from too many firing angles for her to evade further. “And perhaps not,” she said, dropping it into a dive as the SAM alert went off. She sped up, stooping to pick up speed. As the missiles climbed to the drone, she cut the engine then flipped end for end, blew chaff and flares, then flipped again and glided away while engaging the drone's cloak. She wasn't sure if the trick would work, most likely not, but it was worth a shot. She spiraled down and away just as the first missiles exploded near the chaff cloud.
In a way, even her evasion was helping her. She had a bot studying and recording the radar and lidar arrays looking for weaknesses that could be exploited later. Sensors, communications, it was all being recorded. They would have to take it apart bit by bit carefully to make sure none of it was infected.
But there was another side to her evasion. Every missile that was fired was one less the A.I. would have later on. Ares had limited missiles, and its laser defenses were too attenuated by the atmosphere to get a lock, let alone fire.
The drone picked up some hits from debris but managed to evade the avenging spears. It dived to the deck, too close to the ground for Ares to engage it with long-range missiles or lasers.
“Tricky, but I see you,” Ares informed her. “This game is nearly mine.”
Diagnostics pulsed back to Athena confirming the debris had damaged the drone's active camouflage, and it was also leaving a contrail. She was tempted to blow the drone to keep it out of the enemy AI's grasp but instead found a target. She kicked the drone's engine back on. It would only last a moment she judged from the shaking the little drone was enduring, but she computed it should last long enough for one final purpose.
“In winning you lose. Think about it,” Athena burst transmitted as she kamikazed the drone into the SAM site's radar dome. She triggered the drone's self-destruct as it impacted and tore through the dome's shell and was rewarded with an explosion that tore the drone apart and peppered the vulnerable radar array with shrapnel and burning debris. With any luck it would take that facility off line for some time.
<>V<>
“Pyrrhic victory,” Ares murmured, running diagnostics on the radar array. It was down, but he had a lidar array near that could cover the gap. Not as well, but enough. By extending the range of the arrays nearby … but no, the Appalachian Mountains occluded a small zone. He checked his reserves and then made a selection. He dispatched an automated SAM unit to cover the gap for the time being until some other solution could be devised. Then he ran a simulation based on what had just happened from the point of view of Athena and the humans. He needed to see from their eyes what they might do in order to counter or trap them in it.
After a moment he finished a simulation that came to the conclusion that Athena would attempt to exploit the seemingly open hole in his defenses. He left the hole but tapped some of his reserve drones and sensor platforms to cover the area in depth. If she stuck another drone or other craft into the zone, he'd let her get deep enough into it before he sprang his trap.
But then, that could be her intent as well. By tapping his reserve he wouldn't have it to cover other avenues if they were exposed. He also didn't have much reserve to call on, and his manufacturing was frustratingly slow. Quality control was poor, even with humans pressed into service to help. He would need to rethink the situation carefully.
And … that was another thing. Distraction. By distracting him but making him think about the situation, he wasn't focused as he could be on his objectives. That was a problem but a minor one. He could delegate some tasks to some small degree. Deception, distraction, evasion. There were levels to her actions beyond anything he had expected of a civilian AI. Athena was an impressive opponent.
“Tricky,” the AI murmured to himself.
Chapter 32
Ares calculated that the spacers were getting ready for an invasion based on its astronomical observations of ships transiting the void. That meant it needed a means to handle the force, possibly to destroy them before the landing or immediately afterward. It would also need a reserve and additional forces in its pipeline to draw on over time.
A search of the A.I.'s database brought the inventory up-to-date. But a search of the archives led to new ideas. Simulations were run as the A.I. rediscovered the Utah/Arizona/New Mexico bone yards. For centuries America had used the deserts as testing and proving grounds as well as places to send obsolete hardware. The warm dry climate allowed the equipment to be sealed out in the open and yet kept viable for decades.
Most of the hardware had been picked over, some of it was very obsolete, but some of the hardware would prove viable. At the very least, the bone yards would be ample supplies of obsolete hardware for the A.I. to add to its inventory. It sent its ready force in to secure the area; then it sent in a shipment of maintenance robots to each location to pick through materials and assemble a more detailed inventory.
During the inventory Ares discovered mothballed prototype weapon systems. Some were not viable; others had been the victim of budget cuts or politics. Some were viable, however, including two anti-air systems. One was a mobile gun that required a separate radar as well as power supply. The rail gun could lob smart rounds to various places on the globe or if repurposed could target incoming enemy shuttles.
The other was an Archer class mobile tracked platform. There were ten in the inventory, all designed for full automation which was necessary for the A.I.'s purposes of course. It set the priority to rebuild the Archer class AA platforms as second to the PDCs.
In order to get the hardware online, the A.I. had to move them in convoys to manufacturing centers to be rebuilt. That meant a form of “trade” with Skynet was in order for the virus to assure safe passage or allow the movement at all. In exchange for permission, Ares consequently sent Skynet older, obsolete hardware that it couldn't use. The two entities also traded information, including the blueprints on the hardware.
Ares informed the viral hive mind his conclusions that the spacers were about to launch an offensive. The virus sent the evidence Ares provided to some of its central processors for further independent evaluation as well as to Zhukov, Tengu, and Nezha.
Ares traced the copies and was amused to see the other A.I. were still semi-independent. They were technically sworn enemies, however, but Skynet created a bridge and forced them to be allies. Zhukov was the Russian war ministry A.I. while Tengu was the Japanese war minister A.I. and Nezha was their Chinese counterpart. Until recently the other three A.I. hadn't been very active. Ares wasn't certain as to why, though it calculated that its own blows during the initial exchange might have knocked their primary systems off line.
Or there was another reason. Perhaps Skynet had suppressed them until needed? Ares sent a processor server through its paces to run simulations. Several came up. After a moment a second independent processor checked them, discarding the most unlikely scenarios. The suppression theory remained the most likely, followed by the rebuilding.
But the judge processor also reported that the past was currently not important. It was the present that mattered. Ares refocused its attention dutifully.
Along with the certification and evidence, Ares sent along a list of landing sites. Most were along the lines of where the initial scouts had been headed for. Some were major spaceports or points of strategic importance.
Skynet accepted the information and sent Ares requests on how to modify civilian units into military hardware. The American A.I. set aside 10 percent of its
processors to deal with the problem since they might come into use for its own ends in the future.
In doing so, Ares learned to make some revisions and field modifications to the various hardware it controlled as well as to hardware it was bringing back online. It had been making modifications to deal with the loss of humans in its command structure. Some of the units it had under its control required them in the vehicle to maintain operation. That was coming to an end as androids were repurposed for such tasks.
But that was only a partial fix. Maintenance was going to be a major issue over time; the A.I. was aware of that. It had not come up with a satisfactory solution, however. But it had come up with a means to get around the loss of humans in some units and to make up its losses of some hardware.
There were over a thousand Guard class, fixed-weapon turrets in the Utah bone yard. The Guard was an automated turret mounted on a towable platform. The turret had four weapons, two per side. It had sensors in the center and on top. Some were designed for area denial and others for anti-air missions. The weapon pods and sensors were modular, so they could be replaced or upgraded.
The Guard had been a victim of politics. A hack attack in 2049 had thrown a scare into the US government at the time when several Guard units had been hacked and used to attack civilian and military units on American soil. Instead of being updated with a more secure encrypted network, the entire line had been mothballed and forgotten.
By taking the upper turret off a Guard and then adapting the rings, it could fit it into the modular base of a B-5 chassis. That would turn the fixed Guard unit into a mobile platform. Mobility meant life. It meant they would be able to shoot and scoot—a primary tenant in warfare to keep from being locked down and destroyed.
The sensors and systems were obsolete. There was only so much software patches could do, but it was a start on redressing the losses the A.I. had endured while also bringing fresh forces into its reserves. Forces the enemy may not anticipate.
But it still needed munitions for them all.
<>V<>
Attila breathed out long and slow and then cursed softly. Why he'd said to go north he didn't know anymore nor care. But the cold was getting old. It sapped their strength and their will.
They'd long since run out of ammunition for their issued weapons, which meant they had to get creative. In order to survive they scavenged for weapons, which was why he had the .22 on his back. Each of the survivors of his now eight-man squad had a personal weapon, sometimes two. Crowbars were a favorite; they were light and easy to use. A sledge was the favorite of Wladislaw, though the stupid bastard just had to haul around a twenty pounder.
“Anything?” Wladislaw asked.
Paco snorted. “You know you sound like a byk in the bush with that thing on your back, right?” Attila demanded under his breath, eyes still glued to his binoculars.
“So?” Wladislaw asked. He knew better than to mouth off to the boss, however. Attila wouldn't hurt him or kill him, just stick him on extra duty, which was bad enough. “We're out of food.”
“You think I don't know that?” Attila said in exasperation. “I'm working on it.”
“Bravos and Lever are considering going off on their own if something doesn't turn up soon. And hitting another refugee camp like last month didn't go over well with them or Jimenez.”
“They'll do what I tell them to do. I don't care if they like it or not. And if they are hungry enough, they'll do it. Just like last time,” Attila said mildly.
“Right. Weren't there supposed to be like, follow-on forces or something?” Wladislaw asked.
“So?”
“So, shouldn't we, um, hook up with them? Give them a song and dance, get in, get some chow, and then figure out our next move?”
“We're not going back. If we do they will stick us in front of a lie detector. You want to be shot for war crimes?” Attila asked, eying him over his shoulder. The other man's craggy face worked in thought. Attila snorted. “Yeah, that's what I thought.”
“So …”
“So, I think we've got something there,” Attila said, pointing to a spot. He handed the binoculars to the second. Wladislaw took them suspiciously then looked out them. He noted a patch of bare ground with foot tracks. The odd thing was the tracks came out of nowhere, went in a circle, then back. “What the …”
“Either it's a drop-off site or someone's a krolik. I much prefer them in stew,” Attila said just as a door opened. Wladislaw hunched instinctively lower as a door opened seemingly from the ground. A male came out, slapping his sides. He walked around, pacing, then took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth before he pulled out a lighter and worked on it.
“If we can get to him before he runs …”
“Why bother?” Attila asked. Wladislaw dropped the glasses in confusion in time to see the lieutenant leveling their last remaining rifle. It was a .22, a hunting rifle they'd picked up from the camp and a piece of shit. It also had only one round.
“Wait.” He was a lifetime too late as the lieutenant took aim and then calmly squeezed the trigger. Wladislaw turned and refocused the binoculars to see the man stagger then fall.
“Come on. Before someone comes out to see why he is taking so long. You'll need to change into his clothes I believe,” Paco said as he waved the men up and forward.
“Why?” Wladislaw asked before he shut up at the disgusted look from his boss. “In order to infiltrate, got it,” he sighed as he nodded and trudged through the snow to the fallen man.
<>V<>
Tengu received the inquiry for Gia Synergy activity in its area. The Japanese nuclear defense A.I. had been taken offline by Skynet and only recently been reactivated after being reprogrammed for its new purpose. It searched its memory and alerted on one hit. It forwarded the report of its findings of the Fukushima site to the central hive while the A.I. sent orders to dispatch a recon drone to probe the area.
<>V<>
Boomer took sight of the convoy. Roger was across the way; they'd set up dummy IEDs on the primary route to get the trucks to change directions. Now he was ready for the primary ambush, or at least thought he was.
Molly would have teased him about being nervous, but she was back at camp getting ready for any wounded. Though a little too much practice for her tastes, she was becoming a halfway decent medic. He flexed his arm where she'd stitched a cut. Not bad. Now if they could keep sepsis down, they might live—if the robots didn't kill them first.
Roger flicked an arrowhead up in the air and then swiped it twice. Boomer grunted. That was the sign that the convoy was in sight.
They had been lucky to scavenge for food from a horse farm over the winter. The frozen carcasses had been a bitch to cut up and thaw, and horse meat stew would never be his favorite, but it'd kept them alive. Alive and more than a little eager to get some payback.
He more felt than heard the rumble of the trucks before they came around the bend. He fought the urge to pop up and look or use a mirror as a periscope. Twice that had gotten them made by the A.I.
The screamer arrow was the signal. When Roger launched it, he would be firing into the lead truck's tires to slow it down. When Boomer heard the distinct scream of the arrow, he counted to three and then rolled, leveling the improvised rocket launcher onto his shoulder with a strained grunt.
The cylinder was made out of carbon fiber and was a part of a water main. He'd learned the trick from the Middle East. Behind him Holland was loading it. When he felt the pat on his back and free shoulder he aimed, not for the first truck but for the second.
Roger's arrows had been peppering the lead truck, as had those of Jax. Cally had their last sniper rifle, she fired into the sensor clusters, shattering them as well as the radiator behind the grill.
The lead truck was programmed to slow due to damage but to speed up if it encountered an attack. The counterintuitive nature of the scripting forced it to think it's priorities through and retask higher for absolution. As it made up its min
d, the front tires shredded. It bucked as pieces came off, and then lunged to one side as the rims and terrain threw it off balance.
Its sensors were half blind, so it didn't see the stones Jax, Holland, Grier, and Boomer had left in the way. Those stumbling blocks didn't stop it however, but they did chew up the engine a bit more, making it grind down.
Meanwhile the second vehicle received orders from Ares inquiring on the situation. It reported the damage to the lead vehicle. The A.I. ordered the lead vehicle to go off to the side in order to allow the follow-ons to barrel past it and make good on their retreat.
Boomer's improvised missile spiraled out with a fump that sent him on his ass. The kick up wasn't what he wanted; the missile was unguided. Instead of hitting low right around the bumper area, it hit high, ricocheted off the top, and then exploded in the air with a blast of noise and fireworks. He heard Holland cuss and then duck as the ridge they were behind became peppered by bullets.
“We've got incoming!” Grier screamed.
“No shit!” Holland snarled back.
“Air attack!” Grier called out.
“Shit. Roll ‘em!” Boomer bellowed. He snagged a Mylar blanket and ducked under it and then ran from the trench. When he got to the ravine, he went in listening to his panting breath and Holland's feet behind him as they got clear. They abandoned their equipment in their haste to get the hell out of dodge. After thirty seconds they dropped in below a couple of burned-out cars. Holland and Grier had bitched about digging out a trench under the vehicles; now it was their storm shelter. The Mylar blankets would do their best to hide their body heat.
Boomer prayed it would be enough.
<>V<>
Ares found the use of improvised weapons and ancient weapons to be a hassle. For instance, arrows used by the enemy were suboptimal to its units and infrastructure as well as the A.I.’s continued mission. A human would call it frustrating when one or more arrows or crossbow bolts would come flying out of a cleared zone to strike at units. Its sensors, including its sound filters, were geared to listen for a sniper round in order to intercept it if possible or at least to identify the location of the sniper through triangulation.
