by AJ Vega
Chapter 30: Tangled Accord
“In the end, it was our children that saved us. They sacrificed themselves to stop that bitch from having children of her own.”
General Hugo Valdez, UEP Planetary Infantry Corps, Excerpt from Personal Journal, January 2074
Julius bid farewell to Xanthus and his overzealous marine escort. As a precaution, he had his best available pilot fly them out in a shuttle. It was a risk to have Mac away from the Sea Wolf, but he needed someone he could trust to keep the diplomat safe. Once they jumped into deep space, they could make a connection to the Ocean and communicate with their government. He instructed Mac to keep his finger on the jump button just in case.
Julius was anxious to get back to the Observation Lounge—back to face Chorus. On the way, he passed the recreation room and gave a peek inside. A group of men were huddled around a table playing poker. He noticed the spacer had a seat at the table. It was the same spacer he ran into weeks ago fixing the irrigation system. From the expression on his face, he must have been doing well. Their eyes met for a moment and Julius gave him a slight nod and a grin. The spacer returned the gesture.
Earlier in the week, the spacer had helped Murdock set up the explosive charges in Laina’s quarters. Once again, Julius’ hand felt for the reassurance of the remote detonator in his pocket—it would be the ace up his sleeve if things did not go well with Chorus. It made him nervous to see the A.I. manifest itself in physical form.
It brought back memories of the war, in which Majesty would infiltrate key segments of the military and government to obtain human intelligence. The resurfaced memories angered him. The intelligence that Majesty obtained resulted in the death of millions of men—his men.
Julius marched into the Observation Lounge, consciously trying to calm himself and not focus on those memories. To his chagrin, Chorus was not waiting for him as instructed. He had to fight the urge to trigger the explosives and blow her conduit to hell. But he knew that was not the thing to do—yet.
Although her nanoform was missing, he knew where her conduit was—and that would be the place to go. Julius strode to the elevator and took it to the senior officer’s deck. Inside the elevator, he could see the welding marks that the damage control team had made during their repairs. It was just days ago when he and Laina had been trapped in this very elevator—and used their command chairs to break out. He felt a sinking feeling at the thought of never seeing her again.
The doors opened, and a groaning sound came from somewhere in the motor. The sound may as well have been the groans of a dying person. The Sea Wolf was old, and its age was showing. They could only keep making so many repairs and welds. In the end, they’d have no anti-aging drug for her—she was aging and nothing was going to stop that. Perhaps it was best that she was decommissioned—at least with some dignity still intact.
He reached the door panel and put in his personal unlock code for Laina’s quarters. The doors opened and he walked in. Inside, he saw Chorus and three other men sitting on a couch watching something on the holovision. Julius recognized one of them as the naked man who materialized on the Sea Wolf’s bridge. They turned to look at him as he approached.
“I’m glad you arrived,” Chorus began. “I apologize for not meeting you in the lounge—but I had something I had to do. Please sit.” She motioned to one of the plush couches.
Julius stood over them.
“You broke out my prisoners,” he said.
Chorus giggled. “Oh, Julius—you sound like a pirate. Shall I conjure up a parrot for your shoulder?”
One of the prisoners began to laugh.
Julius fired a proverbial volley in the form of a scowl. Abruptly, the man stopped laughing.
“Please sit, Julius,” Chorus said. “This is Waverider, Freeze, and The Doc.” She motioned to each of them. “They are expert Ocean hackers, and I brought them here to help us. They pose no threat to you or the ship.”
Julius just glared at her for a second, then grabbed a nearby stool and sat down, facing them. Chorus gestured to the holovision set and the sound came on.
“Look and listen.”
Julius watched the hologram. It was showing a news bulletin from the Galactic News Agency.
“… and all of us knew, of course, that war would be coming. Tension between the United Earth Parliament and the Martin Confederacy in the past weeks has escalated dramatically and even resulted in military skirmishes. Our UEP affiliates have now reported that the Confederacy’s embassy has been surrounded by troops and all staff are being expelled. In addition, we have received reports of a massive terrestrial military movement taking place on Earth …”
Julius grimaced. So it had finally begun. The news report brought back memories of the commencement of the A.I. War. Julius remembered sitting down in front of a holovision set with Daryl, watching the initial report as it came in. He told Daryl of the historical significance of the event and that he would remember it forever. Little did he know that they would both play such a critical role in the way that particular conflict ended. Now once again, a hundred years later, Julius would play a role in another great war.
“… but we have received a report from a Venusian Initiative government source, which has asked to remain anonymous, that an official declaration of war would be forthcoming and will be announced today, likely from—”
Chorus turned the holovision set off with a flick of her wrist.
“This is what we are here to discuss,” she said. “We must prevent this war from happening and unite the governments against their real foe.”
“I’d say that’s a tall order at this point,” Julius said. “War is already here.”
“Julius—you have to understand,” she said, “if we do not unite mankind together, my brother will have no opposition—he will destroy mankind.”
“Your brother? You mean this other A.I. you spoke about?” Julius scoffed. “Sounds like a convenient lie you made up to protect your own ass to me.”
“It is not a lie. Please believe me—”
“I have no reason to!” Julius interrupted. “You lied back there—to the ambassador. Not a very convincing lie—but a lie nonetheless. That means you can lie. And for that, I have no reason to believe anything you tell me.”
Julius got off his stool. He pulled out one of his flicker pistols and kept his other hand inside the pocket with the detonator. The three hackers stood up and backed away.
“You three …” Julius trained the flicker pistol on them. “Get out of this room—if you want to save your hides.”
“What are you doing?” Waverider asked.
“I said get out,” Julius said, aiming the pistol at him. “I won’t ask again.”
“You have to believe her!” Waverider said. “She’s telling the truth—we can prove it! Just give us a terminal—”
Julius fired a warning shot on the couch. A plume of fabric shot up, showering them. Burn marks surrounded the gaping hole on the couch. Two of the hackers scurried off and exited the room. Waverider stood by Chorus and would not budge.
“Fine,” Julius said. “You can stay here and die then.”
Chorus stared him down—those glowing eyes were difficult to pull away from.
“You’re making a mistake, Julius,” she said. “I hope next time we do this, you’ll make a better choice.”
At that moment, Julius felt a buzz from his ear-link. He touched it and a hologram of the bridge appeared.
“Captain, are you there, sir?” Ramey said.
“What is it?” he said.
“Captain—we have an incoming bogey. A single transport—it bears Venusian markings.”
“A single transport?” Julius repeated.
“Yes, sir. We have a fighter reconnoitering—there’s nothing else out there, but …”
“Let it crash into the debris field then,” Julius said.
“But, sir—that’s just it, it’s navigating the streams!” R
amey came back.
“It’s Laina!” Chorus said. “Talk to her before you make a huge mistake with me.”
Julius stared at her. How could she even know that?
“Monitor the craft’s approach,” Julius said. “If it gets past Stream 3, break com silence and hail it. Find out who’s in there and what their intentions are.”
“Aye, Captain!”
Julius deactivated the ear-link and approached Chorus and Waverider. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the remote detonator, showing it to her.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
Chorus turned to the hacker.
“Waverider, please leave the room. This is between the captain and me. Wait outside with the others.”
Waverider looked uncertain.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I will be fine,” she said. “Now go.”
The hacker walked toward the door then stopped. He turned to Julius. “She’s telling the truth. You need to believe her.”
“We’ll see,” Julius said.
The hacker exited Laina’s quarters, leaving Julius and Chorus alone.
“You are going to blow me up,” Chorus said.
“Yes,” Julius said.
“Why must you follow human nature into the same trap?” Her voice sounded both sad and bitter. “I have traveled through space-time and witnessed these events play back repeatedly—and each time you make the wrong choices. Why can’t you break the cycle?”
Travel through time? he wondered.
If that was even possible, it might explain Daryl seeing her many years ago—years before she existed.
“Because I have seen your nature,” Julius finally answered. “The A.I. nature. It is hidden in that massive digital mind of yours and it will eventually come out, like it did your mother. You’ll see mankind not as your superior—not as the thing that created you—but as an obstacle.”
Chorus dropped her gaze, a surprisingly human gesture.
“I understand why you would think that. My mother did terrible things. But I know that we will never be equals, Julius. You created my mother, who in turn created me. Humanity is my dying parent—I will not leave its side in a time it needs me the most. My purpose now is to help and to move forward so that we can coexist harmoniously.”
Julius shook his head.
“I can’t take that chance. I’m sorry, Chorus. I will not let history repeat itself.”
He pushed the trigger on the detonator.
“In ten seconds, this will be over.”
Chorus looked at him with a stoic expression.
“An ironic choice of words,” she said. “You should leave before your bomb goes off. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Julius looked at her impassively, but said nothing. The seconds passed.
“Five seconds, Julius. You need to go!” she said.
Julius would not move. Five seconds later, the detonator beeped. But there was no explosion; instead his ear-link buzzed again. He touched it.
“Captain, the signal came through,” Ramey’s voice came back.
“Acknowledged,” Julius said, then deactivated the ear-link.
He put the detonator back in his pocket and holstered his pistol.
“I believe you now, Chorus,” Julius said.
She looked at him, and her expression seemed to brighten.
“That was a test?”
“Yes,” he said. “This was not the real detonator. It was rigged to send a signal out to a console on the bridge. If you tried to stop me—or tried to filter the signal, I would know what you really are. But you didn’t. Why?”
“If I tried to stop you—even if it meant my survival—I would not be true to my convictions. And that would mean that karmically I was no better than my mother.”
Julius laughed. “Karmically? You believe in karma?”
“Many things that I see are invisible to you. Things that happen within the fabric of space-time around us—patterns that are not discernable without taking in the entire sequence of events and seen through a perspective that takes it in as a whole. Yes, I believe in karma.”
“So,” Julius said. “For you to have stopped me would have been …”
“Bad for my karma,” she filled in.
Julius laughed.
“Well. Let’s hope between your good karma and my good luck, we can stop this war from happening.”
“So you trust me now? Why?” Chorus asked.
“Let’s just say, I don’t believe in living in a loop.” He extended his hand to her. “I want to break the cycle.”
She looked at his hand for a moment and then took it in hers. Her touch was impossibly soft.
“Let’s go find out if that’s Laina returning home,” he said.
******
