by B. V. Larson
“Yes, but how?”
“I can see a way to threaten the Blues,” she said. “Besides bombing them, I mean.”
“Tell me,” I said.
She looked down to gather her thoughts, frowning at the huge planet under our feet. I let her think quietly, watching her in the half-dark. The only light in the observatory came up from the planet, reflected from the distant star of the Eden system. It illuminated her face in an unusual way. Her hair was down in places. None of us were keeping our kits perfect, not even Jasmine. It was a clear indicator we were all greatly stressed. Still, it made her look softer somehow, more vulnerable. I felt an urge to comfort her—which I resisted with difficulty. Touching Jasmine had gotten me into plenty of trouble with Sandra in the past.
“We could tell the Macros that the Blues fed them false information,” she said. “We could transmit recordings of what they’ve told us today. The Macros won’t care if the Blues did it because we forced them to. They don’t care about circumstances.”
I nodded slowly, frowning. “It might work. The Macros would then mark them down for death again. That doesn’t mean they’ll give us an alliance, however, just for ratting out the Blues.”
“No, no,” she said, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean we should actually tell the Macros that. What if we just threaten to do so?”
I smiled. “I like that. Leverage. Okay, that gives us leverage over the Blues. It is somewhat redundant, in that we are standing in orbit over their homeworld, and we’ve already been bombarding them—killing them.”
“What else can we do?”
It was my turn to think along those lines. It’d been a few years since I’d done any dealings like this, and trickery with the Macros was always dangerous, but sometimes fantastically rewarding. If you could convince their computer brains to do something, they tended to do it absolutely. Peace and war, due to their lack of lingering emotions on the subject, these two states could be flipped on and off. You just had to discover the location of the switch.
“Okay,” I said at last, “I think I have it.”
“Tell me.”
“No time. Go back to your post. We’re pulling out of orbit and heading for the battle station. Get the fleet moving, and open a channel with the Blues again.”
She did as I asked without further questions. I liked that about her. I always had. She might ask for something extra, but if it was refused, she dropped it. There was no injury in her eyes about the subject, either. It was off the table and forgotten. She could get mad and emotional just like anyone—but compared to Sandra, she was as cool as ice most of the time.
I looked after her as she ran out of the observatory. I couldn’t help myself. It’s a guy-thing. When something comes along and attracts us, we can pretend not to notice it, but we always do. We track, we stare, we have visceral thoughts…
I pushed all that nonsense away. This moment was about as inappropriate a time as I could come up with for such ideas. I turned back to staring at the Blues’ homeworld to clear my mind.
Within a minute, the planet was moving away to the left. I stumbled a bit and took two clanking steps to catch myself. The fleet was moving, breaking out of orbit and heading for the dark corners of the Eden system. For the coldest planet out of all twenty-six, where the Macros were due to emerge soon.
“Colonel?” Marvin’s voice came echoing out of the walls. “The Blues have accepted your proposal to parlay further. The channel is open now.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the Blues talked first. “Hello creature, are you the one known as Colonel Kyle Riggs?” a voice asked.
I couldn’t be quite sure, but I thought the voice was slightly different. The speech was faster, for one thing. “Yes,” I said, “who am I talking to now?”
“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me. You and I have experienced one another. I am known as Intellect.”
I frowned. “I don’t recall meeting you before.”
“You met my less significant half, a creature known as Curiosity. We were a single collective when I experienced you some time ago. I’ve since separated.”
“Ah,” I said, remembering Curiosity. “Sure, you’re the Blue I met the first time I went down to visit your world. Or at least, you’re a relative, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you still feeling curious about my species?” I asked.
“Not so much,” the being said, “I’m stimulated by beings that might possess intriguing thoughts of depth and introspection. You are clearly a vicious, destructive species.”
I snorted. “All right,” I said. “I guess I can understand that viewpoint, as we have attacked your homeworld. You have plenty of reasons not to like me—or any human. That’s the reason I’m calling. I want to halt the bombardment.”
“You have it within your power to do so. Why would you need to discuss it with us?”
“Because we’ve both got a serious problem approaching. Namely, a huge fleet of heartless machines which are bent upon the domination and eventual extermination of both our species.”
“We do not feel concerned about the machines,” Intellect said. “You are the dangerous ones. In all our dealings with other beings, you’re the first who have dared to murder our people directly.”
“You’ve never been hit by the Nanos, the Macros, or any of the rest of them?”
“We understand them,” Intellect said. “Thus we can control them—not directly, but by deflection and misdirection. They are very literal-minded creatures.”
“I think you’ve made a miscalculation there,” I said. “The Macros won’t skip your world when they arrive. If they defeat us, they will keep rolling right through, destroying the Centaurs and the Blues.”
“My estimation of your mental faculties is dropping steadily,” the gas-bag told me. “I must apologize. I haven’t made the situation simple enough for you. To this end, I would like to engage in an experiment. Are you interested?”
“An experiment?” I asked, my frown intensifying. “I’d rather talk about serious—”
“It won’t take long. Indulge me.”
“What’s the nature of this experiment?”
“I wish to determine if I can explain a set of critical points clearly enough for your limited mentality to comprehend the overall scenario.”
I felt a twinge of heat coming up my neck. I knew the sensation well: it was anger. These beings—somehow, they usually managed to piss me off. They were so arrogant that they didn’t even know they were arrogant. They’d often told me very honestly and directly I was an entirely new flavor of moron. But they did it in a way that indicated they held no malice toward me. They weren’t trying to insult me. They honestly seemed to think I needed help, that the reason I didn’t agree with them on something was a matter of intellect, rather than a differing point of view.
I took a deep breath and let it out through clenched teeth. This caused a hissing sound.
“What was that?” asked Intellect in response to my hiss. “You’re last statement was unclear to us. Have you assented to the experiment?”
“All right,” I said. “Knock yourself out, gas-bag.”
“Another unclear reference. But we will take the confirmation we managed to glean from your guttural noises and proceed on that basis. Point one: we are currently allied with the inorganic beings you collectively refer to as the Macros.”
“I understand that.”
“Point two: you are not allied with the Macros. You are their enemy, in fact, targeted by them for annihilation.”
“Got it.”
“Point Three: It is your species that will be removed from this system shortly, not ours.”
“Is that it?” I asked wearily.
“Point Four is the inescapable conclusion to be drawn from the first three: We understand you have the capacity to cause us a large number of deaths before the Macros remove you, but the effort is pointless and even counterproductive. If you are to have any
hope of survival, you must mass your forces and destroy the Macros before they destroy you. Expending explosives to harm us is idiocy.”
“All right,” I said. “Are you finished?”
“The experiment has moved into its final phase. Do you now understand and agree with all four of these interconnected points? If any one of them was beyond your capacity to comprehend, please—”
“You skipped Point Five, Intellect.”
“There is no Point Five. I’m greatly disillusioned. I thought you would pass the test.”
“I’m sorry to disrupt your windy fantasies, but your people are the ones who have failed to comprehend the situation. Point Five is this: we are going to tell the Macros that you helped us.”
“Such a claim would be inaccurate, and therefore your threat is irrelevant—”
“Wrong again,” I said. “I’m greatly disappointed in your performance throughout this exchange. Recall that we demanded that you transmit false information to the Macros, and you did so. Because of your false input, the Macro fleet slowed down and their mission was delayed. If they had pressed ahead on their original course and speed, they would have been here by now. They would have met nothing but our battle station, without our full fleet there to support it. You have betrayed your allies, and are clearly an enemy of the machines. We will make this clear to them. If they do defeat us, they will come to your homeworld and finish the job we’ve begun.”
There was a lull in the conversation then, and I thoroughly enjoyed the moment.
“The machines will not trust your testimony. They will reject your data.”
“No, they won’t,” I said, and I felt myself beginning to smile again. “We can prove our case to them, with full documentation. We have recorded all our conversations with you, including this one. We have recorded all your transmissions via the rings as well.”
“There is no purpose in transmitting that data to the Macros.”
“Wrong again. I’m afraid your intelligence-meter has dipped down into the sub-par region, Intellect. Even the Centaurs could have figured this one out by now.”
“Ah,” said the Blue. “I understand your scheme now. You wish to force our cooperation.”
“Exactly,” I said. “You get a gold star.”
“I don’t understand the reference.”
“Too bad. If you had, you would have gained an additional gold star. But don’t worry about that lost opportunity now. Here’s what I want you to do, in order to save your species.”
“We formally request that you do not make any transmissions to the machines.”
“We haven’t done it yet. But we will do it, if you do not cooperate with us.”
I laid out the plan then. For once, Intellect took my demands seriously and listened rather than just chattering and insulting me. I made sure that he thoroughly understood the new way of things. When we were done, I solemnly informed him that he’d earned his first gold star, and then I closed the channel.
“Not bad for a dumb-ass cloud,” I muttered to myself.
-33-
“Are we quite finished terrorizing the Blues?” Captain Sarin asked me.
I looked at her with raised eyebrows. It wasn’t like her to take shots at my leadership. After a moment of staring, I nodded to her. I’d decided to let her comments go for now.
“Yes, I hope so,” I said. “What are they doing?”
“They’re involved in some heavy ring-traffic, presumably talking to the Macros.”
“Don’t we have a transcription of what they’re saying?”
“We don’t have that all automated yet. Marvin has to personally process and translate the contents of intercepted transmissions.”
“Hmm,” I said, less than thrilled that Marvin was between me and this valuable intel. “What’s the ETA on his report?”
“I’m working on it now, Colonel Riggs,” said Marvin, coming up behind me.
I turned and counted cameras. Three on me, but four on Captain Sarin. That was strange. What did he find so interesting about her? If he’d been a normal human male, I would have understood his scrutiny, especially now as she leaned over the command table tapping at it. But Marvin didn’t think that way—at least I didn’t think he did.
“What’s on your mind, Marvin?” I asked.
“Many things.”
“Name a few of them.”
“The translation of the conversation ongoing between the Blues and the Macros is taking up the majority of my processing time,” he said. “But I’m also monitoring the status of every ship in the fleet, and the behavior of the Blues in response to your genocidal attacks.”
“They were hardly genocidal.”
“Indiscriminate bombing of civilian targets of a given species or sub-species is the very definition—”
“All right, all right,” I interrupted. “What else is on your mind?”
“There is an odd interplay occurring between yourself and Captain Sarin.”
This caused Jasmine to turn around and frown. “What are you talking about, robot?” she asked.
I was suddenly sorry I’d asked. I looked around the bridge quickly, but I didn’t see Sandra. At least my luck hadn’t completely run out. I opened my mouth to order everyone back to work, but Marvin was already blurting out whatever was in his nanite-chain brain.
“I’ve noticed distinctly new behavioral patterns in both subjects. Captain Sarin is surly and distracted. Colonel Riggs frequently glances at Captain Sarin, particularly toward her face, and alternately toward her buttocks when she has turned away. In past cases, while monitoring similar behavioral patterns—”
“Okay,” I said loudly. “Okay Marvin, you’re done now. Stop talking. Clearly, there’s something wrong with your cameras. I’ll have them checked out as soon as this crisis is over.”
“I was only replying to a question, Colonel. I fail to see how—”
“Yes, and now you’re all done talking about it. Switch topics. That’s an order. Tell me what you have on the interaction between the Macros and the Blues.”
“The interaction has terminated, but my decoding and translation is still incomplete.”
“Give me what you have. What did the Blues tell the Macros?”
“Do you want a literal translation, or a summary?”
“Give me the short version. Tell me whatever you’ve figured out so far.”
“The Blues have stated they’re now allied with Star Force in this system. They’ve repeatedly stated this to the Macros.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again and frowned. “We’re allies?”
“That is what they told the Macros, sir. Along with a full roster and positioning data on our ships, troops and orbital stations.”
I pursed my lips tightly. “It sounds like a trick. Maybe they figure they can help the enemy, and thereby see us destroyed down to the last. If we’re all dead, who will be left to rat on them?”
“Or to bomb them,” Jasmine said.
I turned to her. Something was bothering her, I could tell, but I didn’t have time to figure it out right now. “Is there something constructive you’d like to add to the discussion, Captain?”
She walked over to the two of us and joined the conversation. “I don’t buy the idea that they’d try to trick us,” she said. “The risk would be too high. All we’d have to do is transmit a single second’s worth of data to take them down with us. I don’t think the Blues are that brave.”
I nodded. “I agree with your assessment. They are windy dreamers, not tough negotiators. But if they aren’t selling us out, what’s their motivation with this approach? More importantly, how are the Macros taking it? Are they braking?”
Marvin and Jasmine went to the command table and pondered the data displayed there. I caught myself checking out Jasmine, and realized with a start I’d been doing that without thinking about it. The command table was similar in dimensions to a pool table, and when a lady wearing tight nanocloth leaned over something a
t hip-level…well, the results could be eye-catching.
She turned to me suddenly, and I jumped a bit. I dragged my eyes up to her face and forced myself to fabricate a neutral expression. Had she caught me? I hoped not.
“I think I have the answer, sir,” she said. “The Macro ships are proceeding toward us. They have not deviated their course or speed in any way.”
“They’re still coming?” I asked, forgetting about Marvin’s big mouth and her shapely rear end all at once.
“That’s right. Nothing has changed, sir. How do you want the fleet to deploy?”
“Uh,” I said, blinking and trying to think. “Place the gunships at optimal range from the Thor ring. Keep them out of the zone traveled by the flying mines. Tell Welter to prepare his longer range weaponry first, to the determent of his close-range guns.”
“Why is that, sir?” she asked me.
“Because, if that big fleet gets in close, it’s going to be all over anyway.”
Jasmine turned back to her job, but paused and glanced back at me. She adjusted her nanocloth suit around her hips by tugging at it. It was a futile exercise, of course, as the nanites quickly detected the gaps and folds and tightened them back up again right away. I pretended not to notice what she was doing and stared at the big screen we encircled.
“What about the Centaurs, Colonel?” Miklos asked me. “Where do you want to place them?”
I studied the screen. “That’s an excellent question. Should we mass them at the ring, allowing them to destroy ships as they come through like living bombs? Or should we hold them back, in reserve? Opinions, staff?”
They seemed surprised that I’d asked their advice. “I would put them forward, sir,” Miklos said. “They will take horrid losses, but they should be very effective in the bottleneck.”
“No, they won’t,” Jasmine said. “They’ll be annihilated. Remember last time? The Macros pushed through with a nuclear cloud of continuous explosions. They will be vaporized before a single ship pressed through the ring.”
“Maybe we could park them behind the ring,” Miklos said.
Jasmine shook her head, tapping at the screen. “They won’t have enough acceleration to catch up with enemy ships after they come through the ring. The only chance they have of striking the enemy fleet is by getting in front of them.”
