Founding of the Federation 3: The First AI War

by Chris Hechtl

  She could strangle her father for putting them into such a position. Now they had to dig themselves out of it.

  <>V<>

  Jack winced when he read the latest missive from Wendy. It had been a bit acidic with attachments for all the lawsuits his station swap had engineered.

  His magnanimous offer to appease the station owners, really a bid to keep Olympus functioning more than to help them restart their business, shouldn't have had the unintended results it had. Wendy was right; he hadn't thought the offer through when he'd launched it publicly.

  The fact that the committee was refusing to back him and help pay for the station swap was just a minor irritant. Building the station was a minor thing; it would take his industrial plant less than a week and cost only a few million. He had stipulated that it would be a replica of their previous station. They were getting a newer platform, not the worn patched one they'd had, with a few minor tweaks. Fine.

  “Athena, we're going to need to get the committee on this. We need them to knock this crap off. The same for the courts. We're not responsible for Skynet; I don't care what people say. This sympathy lawsuit shit, it's horse shit.”

  “Yes, but the public perception is damaging to the company if we fight it. Traditionally it looks like the big evil greedy corporation playing scrooge.”

  “I know that. It's a ploy to get a settlement. Play that up,” he insisted. “The public knows it, let them know these people are trying to take advantage of the situation and that we need the money for the war effort.”

  “I'm writing the memo verbatim. Miss Cole will undoubtedly point out that attacking the victim will not play well with the public.”

  “I know. We do what we must. Most of these have no jurisdiction. They don't have a leg to stand on. Get legal on that too,” he said.

  “Understood. Anything else?”

  Jack frowned thoughtfully. “I'm tempted to get someone to look into that sympathetic judge. Dig in to his past and communications, see if he is biased.”

  “Most likely he's doing it for political reasons,” Athena replied.

  “True,” Jack mused. “Digging into a judge's actions could backfire if the investigation was leaked. Pass,” he said.

  “We can do it discretely. I know Roman doesn't have the resources he once had …”

  “Which would mean it would have to be outsourced. And you and Trevor's geeks can't dive into computer networks to tease out tidbits like before. No, pass.”

  “Understood. Anything else?”

  Jack frowned then shrugged. “Probably a thousand and one other things I suppose. But that's it on the top of my mind. CC everything for Wendy to read.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Any problems?” Jack asked.

  “No. I know some people believe we A.I. are being underutilized here. I somewhat agree. However, we can't risk going to the ground and being suborned. Even a clone would give the virus too much information.”

  “Agreed,” Jack replied. “You are in industry, medicine, all of it. You are holding the line against the electronic barbarian. If you have to, make some of your defenses public.”

  “I'm not certain that is wise, Jack,” she said.

  “Not specifics, I'm talking about attacks. The media has stopped reporting them. We haven't had a major incident in a while. Don't allow any; I don't need that sort of headache,” he cautioned with an upraised hand. “But the occasional dump of info, a SITREP might be nice. And I know you, the other A.I. and the computer geeks are all working hard to find more ways to wage the cyber war on the ground.”

  “But a lack of progress on that front isn't news or at least isn't news we want people to have. It would impact morale. And my simulations state making vague promises of progress when there isn't any is counterproductive.”

  Jack exhaled slowly then nodded after a moment. “Agreed.”

  “I've sent the memos. Press release has been forwarded to Miss Cole for clean up and release,” Athena reported. “You have another meeting with Senator Brakin,” she warned.

  “Once more unto the breach I suppose,” Jack said heavily as he got up. “It may not be as stressful as what the boys and girls on Earth are going through, but it's stressful enough for me. And trying on my patience.”

  “But you are making progress. Slow but consensus is being reached.”

  “Yeah, that's the problem with a democracy. You have to get everyone on board. I'm glad we made certain it wasn't unanimous. A simple majority and then move on,” he said.

  “But if someone doesn't get their way, it will be brought up and revisited. Repeatedly,” Athena warned him.

  Jack rolled his eyes. “You don't have to remind me of that,” he said in disgust. “And I'm aware I'm one of those people who bring shit up too,” he said, lips twitching in a not quite smile as he walked out of the office.

  <>V<>

  Skynet changed tactics when it realized there was no way to infiltrate the enemy computer networks remotely. Instead it followed Nezha's calculated advice and utilized its radio transmitters in an attempt at psychological warfare. It saturated the channels the survivors and spacers were using with propaganda against the spacers.

  The AI directed hostages of all ages and both genders to read from prepared scripts. Each person pointed out about how the spacers were privileged and such, indifferent to their plight. Some would go on about how the A.I. was a benevolent ruler if they accepted it. Some scripts played on the wide-spread subconscious idea that the spacers had created the war in the first place. That they had unleashed the virus and were now invading to take over. That was one of the most insidious meme the A.I. played up.

  The attempt to rally help or at least divide the humans ultimately failed over time. The A.I. knew it was a long shot but had put effort into it as a distraction. The propaganda was recognized for what it was by most of humanity, and it fell on deaf ears. Those who were desperate enough to be tempted were reminded of what the A.I. had already done, the horrors it had unleashed. The complete lack of empathy it showed to mankind.

  <>V<>

  Lynn Raye noted the news coming from the survivors in Africa. More and more were calling for Harumbe, meaning “let's pull together.” The focus at first had been on the African continent but was now spreading to mean the world. She made a note to capitalize on the momentum of the meme with the solar system government discussions.

  She circled the meme, sent it to her public affairs department as well as a copy to the other CEOs and lastly, to Wendy Lagroose. She still didn't trust the woman; there was something to be said about blood being thicker than water. But if she might help them and hurt her father and their company in the process, so much the better. She'd even hand the young woman a knife. The parting of ways would only serve her purposes in the end.

  Her company and Sheila's were still working on a means to replace the ozone layer. There was a thin one reforming but not fast enough. Healing Touch and Galaxy Labs were working on UV treatments and skin cancer vaccines. They were going to make a bundle she mused darkly.

  They had pointed out that the UV was killing off many viruses and bacteria that were outside. And of course the bitter cold that was still all across the planet was its own form of good news. It meant that everyone had to stay covered up for the duration.

  She made another note to get her people looking into the medical side of things.

  <>V<>

  Once General Elliot was back to full duty, he didn't waste time getting into the thick of things. He pulled his security detail into the mix, walking them right to the front to check on the progress. It became a bit hot and uncomfortable as the enemy forces decided that was the moment to engage.

  Twice he distinguished himself in combat leading the men and women to fight the robots off. General Martell offered rare praise the second time, when the fighting had been particularly brutal. He also offered a medal, which the chimp graciously turned down.

  “We're all doing our part, sir. If yo
u'll excuse me, I'll get back to mine,” Elliot said gruffly. He didn't like the idea of being awarded a medal for doing what had to be done. Nor the idea of singling himself out for such honors while ignoring the troopers who were all doing the same thing, laying their lives on the line every day.

  “Carry on then,” the general replied with a slight sniff and frost in his tone. Elliot snorted. He wasn't certain if the general was miffed about not having the opportunity to pin a medal on him for the cameras, or if he was stealing the general's thunder. Or was it that he didn't want one in the first place? He shook his head, putting such thoughts out of his head. They had a war to win.

  Elliot shook his head as he watched the armored troopers walk past. No one was foolish enough to salute him in the field, for that he was grateful. He still wondered how the damn A.I. had known he was in charge. Or had it just gone to the HQ to kill anyone there?

  It didn't matter. He was glad it hadn't thought to send the suit to the mess. That would have been a massacre.

  The problem of the hacked suit had reared its ugly head with those two incidents. But fortunately a solution had been found. A tech named Burrows had come up with it, and it was simple yet ingenious. A biometric sensor with its own battery was retrofitted to the suit interior. The first version was a wrist band with a wire to the kill switch. If the user's heartbeat stopped, it cut the power circuit.

  The recent version was built into the suit's chest. The logistics were still being sorted out but refit kits were on the way. In the meantime the suit techs had rigged up jury rigged field modifications with the wrist bands.

  The newest generation of suits would have them built in no doubt.

  Sometimes he wondered about the whole tug of war. Measure, countermeasure, counter-countermeasure, and so on and so forth. No doubt the tin cans would come up with a means around the biometric sensor eventually he thought moodily. But at least for the time being it had given the troopers some piece of mind.

  His borrowing of the suits hadn't been without political fallout. Several officers resented his high-handed act, though they couldn't complain about the results. Field testing the suits in the residential had exposed those weaknesses for all to see. They now had initiated counters to them and had modified their doctrine as far as suit deployment was concerned.

  So he wisely ignored the petty grumbling coming from Colonel Sinclair's direction as General Martell sicked him on the next residential. This time with two platoons of unarmored troops, one platoon of local militia on their first grimly determined outing, and three squads of armored suits.

  The EMP proposal had filtered down to his level at one point during the initial stages of the operation. He'd been tempted to pull his troops back and wait for the EMPs to go off. That would have made their jobs a hell of a lot easier. But there was no telling when the damn things would be ready for mass deployment. People were fighting and dying now; they had to act.

  Sometimes he wondered if he was a victim of his own success or if the British general was setting him up to fail. Either way he had no intention of giving up or giving in. They had a war to win.

  <>V<>

  Two weeks after the committee had debated the subject, Lagroose Industries performed a nuclear HEMP test on Titan on their own initiative. That was followed up a week later by a man-made EMP device. The fusion warhead was more reliable, though not perfect and only 70 percent efficient. The EMP device was a pain in the ass to deploy correctly and finicky to get right. However, it was far more efficient with no radiation or pollution. They were five times more expensive than the fusion bombs, which made for additional debate among the budget committees.

  Eventually a compromise was reached and both weapons went into production.

  Chapter 39

  Boomer eyed the lieutenant with a bit of misgiving. On the one hand, he liked the idea of handing off the leadership role. On the other, hell, he'd gotten used to it. The buck stopped with him, which meant he knew if it went in the shitter it was on his ass. Trusting someone else … that was harder to get into the saddle than he'd thought. Especially when he didn't know jack about the guy or what he was like in combat.

  But they'd finally met up with the resistance. What there was of it, actually. Apparently hundreds of active military, civilians, and former military personnel had banded together. Some were survivalists; others had gotten together out of mutual support and to hit back.

  They had all learned a terrible bitter lesson on Christmas not to group in too large an inviting target. They tried to keep their numbers below thirty. Two squads with a small group of civilians, usually family members who acted as supports in camp.

  Lieutenant J.C. Parker was quiet, and according to his troops, he did have a string of victories to his credit. He was also a bit strange; he collected small robotic dolls, some about palm sized. He had them strung up like paper dolls wherever they went. Many had been used as spies by Skynet. It had taken Boomer a week to get the story; apparently Parker's daughter had been strangled by one of the damn things while she slept.

  He'd gotten a bit of mixed news on his old unit and had one very good spot of news nearby. Private Shaker was in his new unit, though he was assigned to another squad. It was good to see a familiar face.

  Colonel Smarlet and Sergeant Macky had bought it, but according to the scuttlebutt he'd picked up in passing from Shaker, General Burk was still alive but barely kicking. Sergeant Major Neal was also around, sticking to the general as closely as he could to help prop the man up. From what the scuttlebutt said, the general didn't have much longer to live. How he'd lived this long after he'd taken such a hard radiation dosage was anyone's guess. He was certainly a stubborn bastard, too ornery to die.

  He missed Leon, Cally, and Brie. All three had been reassigned to other squads. Roger had stuck by him however, which was good; the kid was turning into one hell of an ace with his trick bow. That was probably the only reason Parker had allowed him to stick around.

  “Okay, listen up. For the moment, we've been focusing on Skynet's assets over Ares. That's going to change eventually, but each time we take down a bit of Skynet, we get a bit of breathing room around us and for the civilians,” Parker said, eying the squad. Many of the men and women hunkered down to listen as he sketched out the plan in the gravel. “We're going to be doing a bit of the same. There is a strip mall here,” he said, drawing a road and marking a spot on the left side. Boomer craned his neck to see it. “We're going to hit it because it has a thrift store, small general store, and a gun shop among other things. It's being held by a small Skynet detachment. They've got a perimeter, and word is they've got hostages inside.”

  Boomer grimaced. He immediately raised a hand.

  “Save the questions till I'm finished,” Parker said.

  “Point of clarification. Do we know for certain they are hostages and not worshipers, sir? Intel?”

  Parker scowled then nodded once. “See me after, Sergeant. But you've got a point; we don't know. We'll scout an hour ahead of time. We'll hit at noon.”

  Boomer nodded as the lieutenant eyed him. He suspected the lieutenant was checking to see if he was questioning the order or battle plan. Boomer wasn't going to be dumb enough to undermine the officer's authority again in that way.

  It would have been nice to have gotten a thumbnail brief beforehand though. Usually officers gave noncoms a heads-up to know what to expect.

  “The mall has its own electronics shop and solar panels. It also has a Wi-Fi/cell tower and pretty good security cameras due to the small credit union on one end. We're not interested in the bank, just what we can use.”

  Boomer nodded as he crossed his arms and rubbed the fur on his chin. He'd cleaned up but kept the beard. It was trim and neat like every other beard; according to Parker as long as they kept them that way they could keep them.

  “Since it has a tower we're expecting some sort of computer network as well—the bank definitely,” Parker mused. “So taking this out will knock out S
kynet's command and control network in the area for kilometers around.”

  Boomer's eyes flared once then he nodded with even more respect. The target was hardened, but a good one now that he understood the implications. With Skynet's control knocked down in the area, they could move around easier and pick off the robots. The robots would be dropped into smaller nets and most likely would have to daisy chain their networks in order to communicate and coordinate their efforts.

  Knock enough of the links out and the entire network would collapse like a house of cards. He'd seen it when they'd taken down the warehouse two years ago and several times since then. The mobile robots only had so much spare space for Skynet to occupy to control them. And if the virus was in the robots, that meant it was also using up their power and processors, which meant they were less flexible and slower in the field. That made them an easier target.

  “Don't get cocky. Benny has been by this place several times. It's a U shape,” Parker drew the shape of the mall in the gravel, “with the parking lot in the center. That means the outside is all cinderblock and concrete with metal doors, which is a pain in the ass to breach.”

  “Inside is different. It's glass store fronts, unless the robots did something about that. They may have also built a wall to fill in that open section. We'll see when we get closer. Boomer, Private Nib,” he pointed to Roger. “Take two more and scout ahead of us. Get back to me with a detailed report.”

  Boomer nodded. Roger blinked in surprise then nodded as well. “We'll get it done, sir,” Boomer said after a moment.

  “See that you do.” Parker frowned then shrugged. “I know some of you are tired of hearing me say this, but tough. We're taking back this planet, one building, one centimeter at a time. Remember that. We're in it for the long haul. Keep fighting, but fight smart. Don't give up or give in.” He stood straight, tucking his hands behind him. That brought them all to attention. “Jump off in four hours. Scouts out ASAP. Get your shit together and your game faces on. Dismissed,” he said with a tight nod.