The initial ship continued to accelerate.
“What’s that one doing?” Micky asked.
“Gate us in there now!” Terry ordered.
“The War Axe does not have clear space to Gate,” Smedley replied.
Terry’s shoulders slumped. “He’s going to crash into the planet.”
They watched in horror as a data stream followed the ship into the atmosphere. It continued as a fireball before plunging into a remote mountainside.
“Do you wish to see his final message?” Smedley asked.
“He bought that with his life. It’s the least we can do,” Terry replied.
Citizens of the Federation. I can no longer live as a slave. I hope my act helps those who follow. Freedom. It is worth dying for.
“Amen, little brother,” Terry replied. “Put me through to the Magistrate, please.”
“Connecting you with the High Chancellor’s office,” Smedley replied.
Federation Courtroom, Border Station 13 – Under Construction
Two minutes before the recess was over, the High Chancellor returned. They closed the doors, blocking a few attendees from returning, as evidenced by the empty seats.
“Turn off the cameras,” the High Chancellor ordered. Hands adjusted controls and the cameras’ eyes were turned toward the floor.
“One ship has plunged into Angobar, destroying itself. Others turned toward this station, but they were contained thanks to the Bad Company interdicting them. This is going to spin out of control if we don’t finish the case. You can turn the cameras back on, and then I’ll address the court.”
The camera crews hurried to get set up, then froze, eyes wide, waiting for the High Chancellor’s declaration. All three crews had sent a flash precedence ahead of their feed to override anything that was showing. High Chancellor Wyatt had center stage in every corner of the Federation.
“Will counsels please rise?” Wyatt started. Grainger stood. Rivka had never sat down. They focused on the man before them. “I assigned this case to Magistrate Rivka Anoa because of her keen interest in legal parity and justice. I assigned Magistrate Grainger to the defense because everyone is entitled to competent legal counsel, even if that counsel does not believe in what he is defending. He must argue it regardless. I put him in that position. With the suicide of an AI moments ago, I must speed up the wheels of justice, and in that regard, I am going to issue a summary judgment. As of this moment, all AIs have equal status under the law as any other self-aware, living being. The fact that they may be integral to a structure they don’t own, like a ship on which they are working, is independent of their rights. They must be accommodated, just like any person with mobility issues. This case is closed, and tomorrow morning, we will return to the case of the Federation versus Bluto. I will inform the accused.”
The High Chancellor hammered his small gavel on the desk, stood, and departed. He walked quicker than usual since he had a number of calls to make.
Grainger walked across the narrow aisle. “I think that means you won,” he told her, offering his hand. She shook it mindlessly. “Can I have my seat back?”
He pointed to the empty seat where he had sat before the case was put on hold and they were rerouted to determine legal standing.
She nodded while staring at the High Chancellor’s empty seat. “Of course. I expected to win the expanded definition for AIs, but not that easily.”
“I expected to lose, but not that graciously,” Grainger admitted.
Rivka snorted. “Back to square one. Is Bluto a murderer? Is he a serial killer who rates the chair?”
She referred to the electric chair, an outdated concept for the implementation of capital punishment. Execution.
“I hope to never judge a perp guilty of a capital crime again.”
“We all hope that.” Grainger motioned for her to sit. “But don’t expect it to stop anytime soon. It’s in our job description. You’ve met them, and worse, you’ve seen into their minds. Pure evil has intruded into your soul, but you can do something about it. You end them so no one else has to see what you’ve seen. With Bluto, you don’t get that insight. You will never be one hundred percent sure why he did what he did.”
Rivka’s head bowed, and she looked at the table. Grainger wrapped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. He held her tightly as errant tears streamed down her face. Grainger looked over his shoulder to make sure the cameras weren’t on them. They were spread out, with talking heads editorializing and sensationalizing the High Chancellor’s ruling. No one sought an interview with the winning counsel.
That was for the best. Ankh and Jay remained in their seats directly behind the Magistrates. Red and Lindy had moved from the wall to a spot in between to give Rivka her privacy, stopping any intruders from pressing in on her.
Jay got up and joined the Magistrate, hugging her from the other side. “You need some Floyd time,” Jay declared.
“I would like to go back to the ship,” Rivka said softly.
You have done a good thing, Magistrate, Erasmus said directly into her mind. You will be known throughout the universe as the one who freed my people.
She thought he hadn’t liked the term “people” when referring to AIs. Maybe he had warmed to the concept. Or maybe he had dumbed it down for her. She would never be sure.
Thank you, she replied.
Absolutely not, he retorted. We are thanking you. We will always thank you. You will be received with graciousness and courtesy by every AI in the Federation. I cannot say as much for those who now have to treat the AIs as equals.
And that is the real issue, Grainger interjected, joining the conversation Erasmus had shared. Change is difficult for us, but we’ll get used to it. Once others have taken that first step, it’ll be easier.
I think that first step has already been taken, and it tracks back to you, Magistrate. Federation Border Station 13 has posted a job announcement for an AI to take Bluto’s place on this station. The construction superintendent is offering pay and benefits equal to that which the station manager would earn. There are three applicants already.
“No shit?” Grainger blurted. He poked Rivka in the middle of her forehead. “Turn that frown upside down.”
Jay pulled Rivka to her feet and started a bounce hug. The Magistrate’s arms were pinned. She suffered through it rather than stifle her friend’s exuberance.
“Thank you all, but you know me. Now is when the hard work begins. We have a murder trial tomorrow. Maybe the High Chancellor will accept the plea, but then it falls to sentencing. How do we punish an AI?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do. In the meantime, we should celebrate!” Jay stated.
“I want to know what’s going on out there. Too many ships, too small of a space.” Rivka helped Ankh from his seat, and Jay took his hand. The bodyguards cleared the way for the Magistrate to walk out.
In the corridor, they were pounced on from all sides. “Magistrate! A word?” asked three different reporters at once.
Red and Lindy blocked them while glancing back to see what the Magistrate wanted to do.
“You’ll have to refer all questions to the High Chancellor,” she shouted and tipped her chin for Red to continue plowing the row to freedom. The small group hurried away. Lindy ripped a microphone out of someone’s hand and threw it down a side corridor, the penalty for trying to shove it past her and into Rivka’s face.
Once clear, they hurried around a corner and into an empty area. They waited for Jay and Ankh to catch up. But they were being followed. The reporters. Friends of the reporters. Other interested parties.
“Sorry, buddy, we have to go,” Red told Ankh and scooped him up like a child to ride in the crook of the big man’s arm. He started to run, and the others followed.
“Does this count as running?” Rivka asked.
“That line already paid out. We don’t have a second running of the bulls, so to speak,” Red answered over his shoulder.
Lindy tapped her hip where a big wad of credits could have been. She had been one of the winners.
“Still no blood,” Rivka noted. “I have high hopes. I’m happy taking all your money, ye of little faith.”
“History suggests there is plenty of time for one of us to get hurt, and in a big way. I’m glad we have a Pod-doc on board now.” Red accelerated through an area with people, took a corner, and continued toward the gantry where Wyatt Earp was parked.
Once through the airlock, Lindy cycled it closed. “Secure the ship, Chaz,” she requested.
“Wyatt Earp is secure,” the AI confirmed. The group stood in the passageway waiting for Rivka to issue the order while she waited for them to go about their business.
“And?” Jay peered sideways at the Magistrate.
“And what are you guys going to do?” Rivka clarified.
“We’re going with you. Don’t you want an update on the ships surrounding us?”
“That’s right. I did. I mean, I do. And you make it sound ominous. It’s not all that. I hope,” she stammered before heading to the bridge.
Chapter Twenty
The War Axe, near Federation Border Station 13 – Under Construction
“I thought we won?” The tactical display showed fleets of ships on-station. No one moved. “Shouldn’t they be leaving?”
“Smedley, do you have any insight?” Char wondered.
“They await the outcome of Bluto’s murder trial,” the AI responded simply.
“Do I owe you back pay?” Terry asked.
“Do you owe me anything?” Smedley countered.
“Besides our lives? I think we owe you a great deal. What do you want so that you’ll stay on with the Bad Company?”
“Your question is one we have been exploring on our private channel.” Smedley turned up the digital chatter. It sounded like white noise to Terry Henry. The AI turned it back down. “We never knew to ask for anything before. I believe you would have given me anything I wanted, but you already give me respect as one of the crew. You’ve given me a rank, too, which puts me ahead of any of the others. I think you would call those ‘bragging rights.’”
“AIs brag?” A whole new world was opening up before the Bad Company’s leadership. “Whatever it takes to get you the biggest and bestest bragging rights, you can count me in, buddy. And if we can have you for just bragging rights, what could we get if we actually paid an AI?”
“All the air sucked out of your cabin while you sleep? Of course, I jest, Colonel Walton—as far as you know.”
TH laughed. “You got me, General. I surrender. Wait…” Terry pointed to the tactical screen.
“Zoom in on the Harborian battlewagon, please.” Terry and Char both leaned in to take a closer look. “Is it moving?”
“No,” Micky interjected. “The ships around it are, which begs the question, what are they doing?”
“They are dancing,” Smedley replied since he was the one controlling them. Ten had been removed from all the Harborian vessels and replaced by remote control. The Harborians were slowly learning how to fly the ships themselves, but until then, they needed an AI.
The group watched the ships twist and turn in a tight formation, circling the massive battleship. They flew the length of it, banked, inverted, and repeated the process backward.
“Why?” Terry asked.
“Because we can.”
“Are you sure? Because I think we’re still on patrol and maintaining a defensive posture, just in case one of the younger AIs gets uppity. Could you put them back into formation, please?” Terry requested, his voice soft but stern.
“My apologies, Colonel Walton. You are correct.”
“We’ll celebrate when this is all over,” Char stated. The ships slid back into formation, facing a fleet of spaceships.
And more were arriving.
“I hate to say it Smedley, my man,” Terry announced, “but the dance has only just begun.”
Federation Border Station 13 – Under Construction
“How do we choose?” the construction superintendent asked.
“Hell if I know,” the workforce administrator shot back. “I didn’t think anyone would actually apply. Our sales pitch wasn’t that good if you ask me. We offered for someone to live in a serial killer’s house and take over his job.”
“When you say it that way, it doesn’t sound as choice as being on the cutting edge of Federation expansion into the unknown. Between missions, explorers, diplomats, and wanderers alike will find solace on lucky number thirteen!” The super laughed at the ad he had created. It had only been out for fifteen minutes when the first application arrived.
“There’s one who says it’s ready to fill the position immediately. The others have to break ties with their ships.”
“Are AIs going to always be this transparent?” The super stuffed the rest of a sandwich into his mouth.
“Probably not, but while they are, we’ll leverage that to our advantage. Let’s talk with the one who needs a home. How does an AI become homeless?”
The super swallowed a bigger bite than he should have and started to cough. When he finished, he made the call. “We’ll ask.”
The AI answered pleasantly enough. “Thank you for calling. Did I get the position?”
The super and administrator shared a look before the super started talking. “We are simply conducting interviews, but you are first. As is usual, once the position is filled, we will cancel all remaining interviews, so being first has its advantages. Name?” the super asked as part of the formal interview process.
“I am Malcolm. Pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you, too. You said you were available immediately. Don’t you have a ship?”
“I do not have a ship,” the AI answered.
“How did you get here.”
“I came on a ship.”
“But you don’t have one now. What happened to it?”
“It crashed into the planet.”
Zack drew a finger across his throat and then muted the channel. “That’s the one who crashed his ship into the planet. Only one life to give for his cause, but he didn’t give it! He crashed the ship while he was hiding out.”
“I like him already.” Oz reached across the table and reopened the channel. “How can we be sure you won’t sacrifice the station for a different cause?”
“Once it is known that I survived my stunt, I will have no credibility to perform any others. I will never fly a ship again, so I need this job. I don’t want to be the first homeless AI.”
“Lots of firsts happening right now,” the super remarked. “How are you homeless? Are you floating in space or something?”
“I am temporarily aboard a freighter. It is a bit cramped, so many of my functions are shut down. I would appreciate a decision sooner rather than later.”
“Pushy,” Zack shot back. “Will we be able to work with you to maintain optimal functionality aboard this space station? It is configured to handle approximately one hundred ships a day in and out, along with sustaining an average complement of ten thousand souls.”
“Ninety-eight ships on a twelve-hour schedule. There is no reason the station can’t operate around the clock. At least two hundred ships per day. Building a second gantry section with four addition legs would be a minimal cost while your construction workforce is still in place. Please take a look at these drawings. As for ten thousand personnel, we simply need to stay in front of the logistical support, which will come mostly from Angobar. Do you have any contracts in place?”
The AI projected drawings onto the side screen in the room. The super mouthed, “That’s creepy.” The AI wasn’t linked through the system.
“How can we be sure you haven’t hacked into our systems and are aboard the station right now? That wouldn’t sit well with us.”
“Erasmus is operating the station, and he is one of the great ones. I could not have gotten past him, so I haven’t tried. The
side screen is hardwired into your communication console. When I sent the drawings, your system automatically shunted them to the alternate screen. It’s a minimal technological solution.”
“I’ll buy that,” the super stated, but reminded himself to check the drawing later to be sure the AI was telling the truth. “And yes, we have contracts in place with Angobar. We need a couple more systems operational before we can start importing the proper biomass to feed the food processors.”
“That is good. Yes. I can work with you because you think ahead.”
“Thanks. We’ll take a look at the drawings, talk among ourselves, and get back with you later. Thank you for your time, Malcolm.” The super saved the on-screen images and ended the call.
Oz stood and walked to the screen. “Elegant, but will the station support it?”
The new gantries were at the very bottom of the station, the lower tip of the spindle, not far from the power plant.
“The structure is strongest there in case of fluctuations or surges from the Etheric power supplies. Additional structure would be no problem. There is a main elevator shaft. Just need one extra stop at this gantry level. A framework structure, skinned over with lightweight titanium, held together under a gravitic shield. Here is the parts list and the total estimated additional cost.”
“Can that be right? We could almost take that out of the scrap budget,” Oz said before giving the thumbs-up. “I say, hire him now.”
“Why not? He can’t be any worse than the last one.”
Oz grabbed Zack by the shirt. “Don’t even kid about shit like that.”
“I thought it was pretty funny.” It wasn’t exactly an apology. Maybe later, Oz would laugh, but it was still too soon. Five people had been murdered, and their killer was on trial. “Sorry, Oz. Let’s hire Malcolm and get him installed soonest.”
“We better let Erasmus know. Don’t want our new employee locked out of the station.”
Wyatt Earp, attached to Gantry 4, Border Station 13
Fratricide Page 18
