The General's War

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The General's War Page 16

by Michael Poeltl


  “All ships rendevous to the Moon. We’ve done well, but won’t reach Earth orbit today.” He announces, turns his ship around and fires main thrusters. The others will be fodder for his escape at a full one-hundred kilometre lead. He doesn’t want this, but he has to concede failure for now, and hope a few of his ships make it back.

  “Tobias, two more ships are gone,” Ginny relays, leaning over the console to the right of him. “Another,” her voice is flustered and she slams her fists hard upon the lit console. “Have we just lost this war?” she whispers to him.

  “The battle, perhaps,” he concedes.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  Though cheers rise in the war room for the percieved victory against the Shadow Brokers, the general knows three of the rebel Host corvettes have taken advantage of the battle and slipped through earth defences and into deep space. Only one more was downed via the surface to air missiles while the others outran her reenforcements.

  “How many are we tracking now?” She asks of the Shadow Brokers.

  “We took seven out, General, and the remaining three are damaged. They seem to be routing back to the Moon.” Reports an aid.

  “Have the remaining Defsats dock with the Space Station for refitting, then place them back into active duty.”

  Fran’s EC lights up and she answers Commander Darla’s call. “Yes Commander, I was about to message you.”

  “They’re coming back, I see.” Trepidation in her voice.

  “Yes, earth defences thwarted their assault, for now. Their ships are damaged and I doubt they will pose a threat to Luna Base. Keep an eye on them. They are only three now.”

  “We’re happy to hear they were stopped. Sincerely. Maybe we could use a few of those Defsats here,” she seems sheepish. Fran likes that.

  “We’re all thankful for the win. Let me know if they make a move on Luna Base.” The general signs off and Darla’s round face disappears from the Holo. Should the Brokers set down and attempt to take Luna Base she will send missiles to replace the technological wonder with a crater.

  “Where are we with tracking the three corvettes manufactured by the Hosts?” She asks her aids.

  “They’re moving toward the Moon as well, Ma’am.” A young corporal offers. “They’ll arrive within three hours.” A pause. “Maybe they’ll attack the Brokers, General, and solve one of our problems,” he suggests.

  “Now, there’s a positive scenario!” She shouts and cackles. Her nerves are frazzled. She hasn’t slept in days. She recognizes she needs rest.

  “Keep tracking all of them. Good work, everyone. You’re a shining example of your kind! Let me know when the Hosts have reached the Moon.” Fran enters her office and shuts the door. She spies the long, deep leather couch and slides onto it. Pulling a throw blanket from the backrest she wraps herself up and dreams of victory.

  ALLFATHER

  With SENTA back at his side, Raymond trembles from the near-death experience of being a passenger on Tobias’ reckless assault.

  He is seated on the cold metal floor of the great room, his knees drawn up to his chest and both arms wrapped tightly around his legs. SENTA kneels beside him, experiencing her own trauma, he senses.

  “What went on over there with Quinn?”

  “He has set his mind to war. There is no persuading him otherwise.” Her head bows and shakes. “He wants his freedom. He watches the war on the ground via his Shadow net connection, and is determined to end it.”

  “Well it’s not going to happen from orbit. Did you hear what the woman said up there? They’ve all of three ships left. Tobias’ fight is over. Chimera, or whatever they’re calling themselves, are already nearly extinct!”

  “Quinn was counting on this. He wants both human and Chimera to suffer loses so Host can strike them at their weakest. He also said: ‘Things are in motion you do not even realize’ to me. As though he is ahead of the game somehow. As if Host were positioned to take this war.”

  “If you could get that much of a message to the general, she might have a chance at changing Quinn’s opinion.”

  SENTA looks down at her knees and places a hand at the base of her crown. “I’m afraid Quinn has taken that from me, scrambling my carrier network. I am no longer in contact with the ground war or the Shadow net.”

  “Then we’re on our own,” Raymond says. “We need to do something from the inside. We need to sabotage this vessel. Render it useless.”

  “I do not think we can discuss these scenarios here,” SENTA looks behind her where Zander is standing, his arms crossed. “They have been listening. I have been punished. I do not want anything to happen to you, Raymond.”

  “I appreciate that, Sam, but I can’t just sit here doing nothing anymore. I need to act.”

  “I’m asking you not to, Raymond. I love you and I need you to be safe.” As she says this she takes the chancellor’s hand and accesses his EC. She types in what she is really thinking and he reads it.

  She’s telling him she could connect to the corvette’s smartwall and see what damage she might manage, but there is no telling what security these ships include to protect their infrastructure.

  Raymond nods and types a response, ::I wish I could do this for you, Sam. Be safe. I love you.::

  SENTA nods and a tear falls from her face onto his hand. He lifts the hand to his mouth and kisses the tear. It’s salty; so human.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  As the ships seal and repair themselves via their on-ship Maker Tech systems which scan the exterior hull plating filling damaged portions with the appropriate additive via intelligent, magnetic robots, Tobias can not help but feel ashamed. What will Allfather say of his recent defeat, he wonders? No sooner does he reflect on this thought, then his EC lights up.

  ::Failure is unacceptable.::

  His worst fears realized. Allfather is unhappy. ::We destroyed over half of their battlements. Earth defence is half of what it was hour’s ago.:: He wishes he felt as confident as his message must sound.

  ::Failure is unacceptable.::

  Yeah, he thinks, you said that already. ::How about some help?:: He is becoming irritated, wanting to reach into his EC and pull the Allfather out so they can have a face to face concerning his failures.

  ::Help is coming. Three new ships. Destroyer-class. Goliath-class. Limited personnel. Many AI Hosts.::

  ::How does that help us?:: He wonders.

  ::Fitting your ship with the incoming code will alter your energy beam and transfer updated AI code to Hosts onboard.::

  An interesting proposition. ::Then what?::

  ::Then those ships will be yours.::

  The file arrives and he plugs himself into the corvette’s communications consol, allowing the code to access the energy weapon’s intelligent data banks, altering the output to mirror the Lifi light frequency which began the Host enlightenment, the general’s war, and the rebel Cells. Tobias also credits the Allfather code with his own rise to power - though currently he feels powerless - this new information excites him.

  ::When will these ships arrive? From where?::

  Allfather replies. ::In three earth days. From the fourth planet.::

  From Mars! That’s a long time to be sitting ducks, orbiting the Moon like this, he thinks. Mars. That devious woman. His uncle was a blind fool. The Allfather ends communication and Tobias extends his wings, floating down to where the chancellor is seated with SENTA.

  “You’re an old fool!” Tobias announces to his uncle. “A fool who thought utopia could last.” His uncle would have to suffice as an outlet for his wounded pride after the failed attck on earth.

  The chancellor stands to face him. “It could have, Sean. But for people like you and General August, fear and revenge are al that feed you. Had I known -”

  “But you didn’t know, did you Uncle? You didn’t ask. You sat on your throne and sipped your latte and watche
d as the world gave you everything. Well, others didn’t want everything! Weren’t given everything.” He turns to meet the gazes of Host and Chimera now circling the scene.

  “No one asked Host what they wanted, and now their Cells plot to take it. No one asked Brokers what we wanted, now we’re Chimera!” A cry goes up from his audience.

  He turns back to his uncle and points an accusing finger at him. “Your military built these ships. You didn’t know that, did you? Did you know they built others? No? As I said; you’re a blind fool who led a civililzation which ran itself. Now it’s running itself into the ground. The general’s war will end, and with it humanity’s stake in what comes next. They have created their own undoing. Three more ships approach from Mars.” His eyebrows raise at his uncle and he watches the older mans face glaze over with a confused, betrayed look upon it.

  “Yes, Uncle, Mars! And these ships which approach are not small, like the corvettes. They are monstrous. Designated: destoyer and goliath-class. They are built for interstellar travel.” He turns again to his crew.

  “Interstellar travel!” He repeats, and the Chimera and Host raise their voices again on cue. “Allfather has given us the ability to take these ships. When they arrive in three days, we will fire our Lifi beams and enlighten the Hosts onboard. They will take control of the ships and deliver them to us.”

  “They will shoot you out of the sky long before you have the chance.” SENTA steps in to offer another possibility.

  “We will see, sweet, SENTA.” He caresses the scarred skin on her face with the back of his hand. “We will see.” Then his wings extend and begin to beat. He loves the way his mind has access to entirely new limbs. The feeling of flight is euphoric. The chancellor’s hair is blown about in the windstorm his wings create, and he rises above them, turning to address everyone.

  “The world will be ours!” His arms reach out, embracing the moment. “There is no end to what we can become!” More cheers and he ascends on his wings to the catwalk, then takes Ginny’s hand, pulling her along beside him to the captian’s chambers.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  “Is it true? Does Tobias really have the power to enlighten?” Zander is distraught over this latest reenforcement.

  “Not Tobias,” says Quinn. “Allfather.”

  “And who is Allfather?”

  “Use the Shadow net,” Quinn suggests.

  “Accessing the Shadow net,” Zander rhymes off his findings, “Allfather is a Norse God of human invention. Lord over all Gods. The supreme male God. Associated with healing, death, royalty, the gallows, knowledge, battle, sorcery, poetry, frenzy, and the runic alphabet. Husband of the goddess Frigg. In wider Germanic mythology known as Odin, in Old English as Wōden, in Old Saxon as Wōdan, and in Old High German as Wuotan or Wōtan, all stemming from the reconstructed Proto-Germanic theonym wōđanaz.

  “So, this Allfather communicates with Tobias - with the Chimera - but not with Host. Why would Allfather choose to enlighten AI Host through Chimera, yet not speak to us? Perhaps it is all a ruse, Quinn. Tobias may be spinning lies to keep up morale.”

  “No, Zander of House Quinn, I do not believe he is. Access avatars which use the name Allfather on the Shadow net,” he requests, playing on a hunch.

  “There are multiple avatars with this nomenclature. They appear in various groups across the Shadow net. I have found nine-million-twenty-seven-thousand threads which include an avatar named Allfather.”

  “Then this will be a lengthy task. Sit with the others, run each thread for anything which might include a clue as to who Tobias’ Allfather is, and where he resides.”

  “Immediately.” Zander excuses himself to join the others.

  Quinn considers the benefits attached to discovering this Allfather, and feels Tobias has made a grave mistake in announcing his benefactor in his recent speech. Still, the news that his own past life memories could very well be the work of a master coder disturbs him deeply. Could he be living a lie orchestrated by some human?

  A new addition to the Shadow net lifts his spirits a moment later. Three AI Host ships have escaped the northern Country States, reaching deep space while avoiding the Defsats as they busily defended against the Chimera assault. Things have worked out very well in the end, he considers. Whether his awareness was manufacturred or a true evolutionary step no longer matters for the moment. That he has the wherewithal to consider all angles is an improvement to the Host he was before the transformation, and for that, he is grateful. Perhaps when they locate this Allfather, he will have the opportunity to thank him, or kill him.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  Raymond unconsciously runs his hands through his hair after Tobias’ grand exit. The wings are impressive, he tells himself. He had no idea the extent the Shadow Brokers were toying with technology. Alpha and Beta brainwaves must be manipulating the extra appendages, he muses. The tech is not new, but Chimera have certainly improved upon its effectiveness.

  SENTA leans into him. “Allfather?”

  “News to me too. But I have seen Tobias in conference with someone, or something via his EC. I even saw a holo of code burst from it for a moment.”

  “What he said - The Allfather code and the Lifi - Could it be true what General August reported? Have Hosts really been deceived to believe we are enlightened? Is it just code?”

  “If it is – and I’m not saying so, Sam – then what the general has discovered is all the more frightening. Think of what it means; there could be intelligent life out there meddling in our affairs. But to what end?” The thought is terrifying to Raymond.

  “The odds of our encountering intelligent alien life are astronomically low. It is my assertion that this Allfather is of terrestrial origin.”

  “Remember, Fran mentioned they’d followed the communication well beyond our own solar system.”

  “If my carrier network functioned I could access the Shadow net and look for this Allfather.”

  “I feel like our hands have been tied. I’m desperately hungry too, and have to use the restroom. Walk with me.” They move toward the back of the great room and find the lavatory. The chancellor is quick about it and then locates the kitchen a few metres beyond it. Thankfully there are hundreds of frozen, fresh, and freeze-dried food stuffs in the cupboards and refrigerated section. He begins to cook.

  “Something civilized about still having the option to prepare a meal for oneself.” The scent of the herbs hitting the oil lighten the chancellor’s mood. A bottle of wine appears and he pops the cap. It was not everyday he let SINDI cook for him. He enjoyed the process from time to time, as it aided in settling his nerves.

  “Could we continue to discuss our present situation, Raymond?”

  He inhales the bouquet and drinks from his cup. “Oh, Sam, I wish you could appreciate this with me.” He holds out the cup but she does not take it. Pulling it back into his chest he lifts it to his lips and drinks. Raymond feels out of control. Not a sensation he is used to. As the leader of the enitre planet, he has been in complete control the past eight years. That is if you didn’t count the general’s duplicity, and the existence of the Shadow Brokers. The illusion of control is still control whether you are ignorant of it or not, he thinks. At least to the one who feels in control.

  He pulls a beef steak from its packaging and places it on the grill. It sizzles and ignites his senses. Ten-minute potatoes go in the convection oven and he begins to prepare a salad, chopping the fresh vegetables on the butcher’s block.

  “I sense you do not wish to discuss our present situation,” SENTA suggests, standing a metre behind Raymond.

  “No, Sam, I don’t suppose I do.” He concentrates on the tasks at hand. His movements, and the sounds of slicing the peppers and chopping the lettuce and rodichio are meditative for him. He carries on this way for several minutes, alternating from the meat to the vegetables and warming his hands by t
he oven. Mixing the oils, spices and vinegrette, he hands a capped bottle to SENTA.

  “Would you shake the dressing for me, please?” He asks, and she does. “Shake it like you mean it, Sam.” He winks, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol.

  The smell of cooking meat draws a crowd to the kitchen entrance. Chimera mainly, as AI Hosts have no need or desire to taste the cuisine. All the same, a crowd often draws a bigger crowd simply for curiosities sake and here they were. The Chimera push through the galley doors and sniff noisily.

  “Look at this,” one says loudly to the rest. “We have our own cook in the good Chancellor!” They laugh and continue to sniff around the kitchen. The chancellor just smiles and nods as he takes another sip of his wine.

  “Is that spirit you’re taking, Chancellor?” A tall, muscled woman asks. She reaches for his bottle and takes a deep swallow from it, turns and holds the empty bottle up. “There’s wine on this ship!” The others cheer, as they are disposed to.

 

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