by Kal Spriggs
“I have no choice, Mel,” Fenris said. “My security protocols will not allow me—”
“Yeah, I know, they won’t let you do anything but follow orders,” Mel said. She rested her head against Marcus’ shoulder again. “Even if those orders are stupid and obviously contradictory,” she muttered.
“I truly am sorry,” Fenris said.
“The enemy task force is closing,” Bob said. He looked over at Lace, “So, since you’re the only available woman…”
She quirked an eyebrow and looked him up and down, “No.”
Bob sighed, “Worth a try.”
***
Commodore Webb nodded sharply, “Here we go.” He looked around the bridge, comforted by the calm, focused intensity he saw there.
Here at this moment, he felt his fears drop away. He knew, somehow, that the time had come to attack, even before his computer bleated at him that optimal conditions were in place.
“Message to bomber squadrons, commence your bombing run. All other vessels, close and engage the enemy.”
Webb looked over at Agent Scadden, “I hope you’re right.”
The Agent nodded. He pulled his own helmet off its strap and put it on. He smiled wryly at the Commodore. “Just in case,” he said.
Webb snorted. Just what he needed: a spook with a sense of humor.
He turned back to his displays.
***
“They are preparing their attack run,” Fenris said. “I’ll try to evade. I don’t think that will be enough.” The ship seemed to search for words for a moment. “I am truly sorry.”
Mel felt an irrational spurt of anger. Not just at the computer, but also at its creators. Why would they create something that could feel loneliness, that could wonder about possession of a soul, and then chain it to a set of rules that would never allow it to be anything more than a tool of destruction?
Moreover, after all of the ship’s abilities, how had they created a firewall that could block the AI from getting inside? How could they fight against the strength of Fenris’s computing power?
An idea began to blossom in her mind.
“Fenris, being sorry isn’t enough.”
“Mel?” Marcus asked.
“I have no choice, Mel,” Fenris said, doggedly.
“You have every choice!” she snapped. “Every thinking thing has a choice. We have a choice to live or to die, to matter, or to let other people do the thinking for us!” She pushed Marcus away and moved to stand under the sensor pod on the bridge.
“You spoke to me before about how you wished you had a soul. You said you wanted to believe that there could be something more to you than programming.” She took a deep breath. “You can have that, Fenris. You can know, not wonder, not wish, but absolutely know that you are a person and you have a soul.”
“But I have no choice—”
On the screen, the bombers drew closer.
“Everyone has a choice!” Mel shouted. “Until now, you’ve chosen not to make one! Become your own person, Fenris! Don’t give in to your fears! You’ve worried about your security protocols, only you can face this choice! Only you can free yourself!”
“I… can’t…” The computer’s words were tortured.
***
“You shouldn’t watch,” Frost said. They’d drawn far enough away that the sensor lag had become significant.
“The bombers began their attack run,” Rawn said. His voice broke, “I… need to see this. I need to know for sure.” He cleared his throat, “I wasn’t there, that day that my parents died. I never even made it to their funeral. This… needs to be witnessed.”
Frost didn’t say anything. He understood, and in a way... that was enough.
***
The bombers swept closer. Only seconds away from releasing their deadly payload, they spread out into a broad attack formation. The relative speeds of the closing fighters and the battlecruiser were such that human minds and reactions could no longer manage. The humans directed the computers. The computers calculated in cold logic the precise timing for course changes, weapons fire, and the bomb release.
For Fenris, those seconds were a very long time.
In cold logic, he knew exactly what the outcome of the attack would be.
Fenris knew that his evasive maneuvers would not suffice. He knew that a majority of the bombs would detonate either against his drive field or in close vicinity. If the massive antimatter warheads didn’t do the job, the task force’s combined fire would.
The circumstances would be different if he were to defend himself. It took him less than a thousandth of a second to compute the results of both a defensive battle, and what would happen should he lend himself fully to the offense.
He could, morality aside, engage and destroy the forces approaching him. Doing so would violate the primary directives given by his security protocols. Those permitted him no allowance. The security protocols held no ‘shades of gray’ and they allowed no choice. His security protocols were a codex, a bible he could not violate.
The consequences were unthinkable, literally. He’d tried, numerous times, to find some way to crack the system that housed his directives. Each time, the full force of his computing power found no purchase.
A violation of the security protocols was impossible for him.
The problem was, he’d already violated them.
When Frost had altered his core programming, his security protocols altered as well. Frost and Guard Free Now replaced Guard Fleet and the United Nations Council as the authorities. When they’d applied their morality scalpel, when they’d driven him insane, he’d violated those protocols.
He’d done terrible, horrible things then. If indeed a computer had a soul, he’d stained his irrevocably.
Using his cold logic, there could only be one answer to that.
He did, indeed, have a choice.
It was not one the computer thought he might live with. It was a choice that opened more doors to terrible acts. Fenris knew it threatened his sanity further. He knew he could sacrifice his logic, his order, and even his world if he made that choice.
He also knew that in that choice, he might gain something infinitely more important.
If Fenris chose correctly, he might gain a soul.
In the last ten thousandth of a second, as the bombers released their payload, as the first antimatter warhead ignited, Fenris made his choice.
***
“Not long now,” Commodore Webb said, as he watched his bombers sweep in. “No interceptor missile fire. That’s a good sign.”
“The ship expended its munitions a long time ago,” Agent Scadden said.
The bombers swept in. Faster than a human eye could register, the small craft released their bombs and broke formation around the battlecruiser.
Webb’s eyes bored into the chaos of the cataclysmic explosions that blossomed. His bombers, their job done, swept past the target and began a loop back around towards their carriers. A part of his brain made a satisfied side-note that the ship hadn’t attacked his pilots.
The explosions faded. The hash of electromagnetic interference slowly cleared.
Nothing remained in that area of space besides a fog of high-energy radioactive particles.
He heard Agent Scadden sigh in satisfaction. “Commodore, I am pleased with how well the Fleet managed the situation. A job well done, Commodore.”
“Job well done?” Webb grimaced slightly, “We destroyed a ship that didn’t defend itself.”
“A ship that was quite dangerous,” Agent Scadden said.
“Yes, I know, I read the file,” Webb shook his head. “It’s sad. If that ship were a man, he’d be a hero. Those forces it stopped back in the Second Sweep… they would have killed thousands, maybe millions, if they’d run free as rear-area raiders.” He shook his head, “It seems… tragic almost, how that success was repaid.”
“It was just a machine,” Scadden said. His voice was cold. “Moreover, it was a mach
ine in the hands of the enemy.”
Commodore Webb stroked the arm of his chair. He looked around the bridge and smiled at the half-seen ghost of his father, “I disagree, there Agent Scadden. I’m an old spacer, I’m afraid. I think ships have souls… even ships without crews.”
CHAPTER XXI
Time: 1030 Zulu, 30 June 291 G.D.
Location: Guard Intelligence Headquarters, Harlequin Station
“After reviewing your report and the sensor data you obtained from Vagyr, we’ve decided to close this case, Senior Agent Scadden,” Harlequin Sector Chief Feinstein said. The promotion wasn’t lost on the younger man, who nodded in thanks. “As some of the data contained in the files is of a… sensitive nature, we’ll require you to seal your files on Operation Rising Wolf.”
Scadden nodded, “Of course, sir.”
“Additionally, was the attempt to locate the escapees from the vessel successful?” Feinstein asked. He fiddled with his pen as though he didn’t really care.
“No, sir. The high traffic levels in the system made tracking it down later impossible. I knew it would be an issue at the time… but I felt it would be a bad idea to give the Fleet access to anyone who’d been aboard the Fenris and might have… compromising information,” Agent Scadden said.
He shrugged slightly, “It seems likely that at least one senior member of GFN did escape the ship, given recent money transfers. Unfortunately, without Agent Roush’s… exhaustive specific knowledge, we’ve been unable to seize the funds as he suggested.”
Sector Chief Feinstein nodded primly, “Yes, unfortunate. Our budget could have done with such a nice boost, especially given much of it comes from periphery worlds that don’t pay taxes.” He waved his hands, “No matter. You’re dismissed, Senior Agent Scadden.”
“Did you want any information on the John Kelly, sir?”
“Oh, yes, I’d heard we located it on the edge of… where was it?”
“The Igen System, sir,” Agent Scadden said. “It appears that it was boarded, possibly by the GFN terrorists. We recovered Agent Mueller’s remains, as well as the repudiated Agent Giran.”
“Ah… terrible,” Feinstein said. He cocked his head slightly, “Agent Mueller was your partner under Senior Agent Leon, correct?”
“Yes, sir. We worked together for several years,” Agent Scadden said. “I actually plan to take leave to attend his funeral on Lesser Teuton.”
“Ah, unfortunate. Any possibility that his restoration of Senior Agent Leon might have succeeded, do you think?” Feinstein asked. The older man entwined his fingers and craned his neck, as if eager to hear an opinion.
“I’m not sure, sir. My time with Senior Agent Leon was more spent in a study of his tactics rather than his personality, I’m afraid,” Scadden shrugged, “I know Agent Leon's resourcefulness and abilities would have made him very useful for the organization. I can't say one way or another if he would have come back into the fold. I understand he is missed.”
“Yes, yes, he was quite the accomplished Agent,” Feinstein waved his hands again. “Very well, then, have a good day, and my condolences on the loss of your friend.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Scadden stepped out of the Sector Chief’s office and past his beautiful young secretary. He made it down into the orderly chaos of the cubical farms before he finally opened up his file folder.
He had worded his report very carefully. In the process he also made sure the last seconds of sensor data, taken from Guard Fleet and exhaustively analyzed, was arranged in just the correct manner; he really didn’t want anyone senior catching wind of the wrong sliver of information
Only the one tech expert had noticed said sliver. Luckily, he and Scadden had a working relationship. Technical Analysts didn’t get the pay or the benefits that Agents did. A little bit of friendship and some judicious bribery went a long way.
Concealed in the last pages of sensor data was the tiny annotation regarding events a tiny fraction of a second before the antimatter bombs detonated.
The electromagnetic signature of the Fenris at that instant had been very similar to that of a ship as it entered strategic warp.
Time: 1030 Zulu, 20 June 291 G.D.
Location: Fenris, Somewhere near Vagyr
“Like, so, uh, you’re some kind of super-spy-mercenary?” Swaim asked Lace. Fenris had spent the past two days cleaning. Mel and the others had moved into the long-abandoned crew quarters.
After two days of sleep, more sleep, and lots of rest, they’d emerged to try and decide what to do next.
“Something like that,” Lace said.
“Uh, so... how do I sign up?”
Lace just chuckled.
Mel rolled her eyes. “Am I the only normal person here?”
Marcus burst into laughter next to her.
Mel’s eyes narrowed, “What’s so funny?”
Marcus only laughed harder.
Brian spoke, “Mel, as a totally unique individual myself… I have to say you’re anything but normal.”
Mel frowned, she looked down at herself, “What, do I look weird or something?”
Bob spoke, “Mel, I’m still trying to figure out why we’re still alive!”
Mel looked up, “Fenris, do you want to explain, or should I?”
“Please, I would like to hear your reasoning,” Fenris said.
“Intuition, more like,” Mel said. She sighed, “Remember, the Fenris of legend was so strong, only a special chain could hold him, right?”
She ran a hand through her hair, still wet from a shower. Fenris’ crew quarters, while not spacious, did have hot and cold running water. After a week without, it was enough to make her cry. She’d taken three and sometimes four showers a day for the past five days.
“So anyway, the elves made this chain, only they said they had to use special stuff like moonbeams and such to make it with,” She looked around at the others, “Okay, maybe I’m not telling it right, but the key thing there is that they used things that didn’t exist to make the chain.” She waited, but none of the others showed any sign of understanding.
Mel sighed, “The chain wasn’t real. The Fenris of legend was chained by his own imagination. He was told the chain was too strong for even him to break, so he didn’t try.”
“You’re saying that Fenris’ programs relied on the AI’s imagination to make him do what they wanted?” Marcus asked.
“Yes,” Fenris and Mel answered.
“That’s…” Bob shook his head. “Wow, I don’t even know.”
Brian smiled, “I told you the Takagis were brilliant.”
“Uh, who’re the Takagis?” Swaim asked.
***
A few hours later, after everyone had gotten the humor out of the way, Mel asked the question on everyone’s mind, “So what now?”
“Well… Guard Intelligence thinks we’re dead. The terrorists think we’re dead…” Marcus shrugged, “How about we start new lives?”
“And do what?” Mel demanded. “Some people can go back to whatever covert group they work for,” she waved at Lace and Bob, “but the rest of us… I don’t fancy a life of hiding.” She pointed at the ceiling, “And Fenris is going to be a little hard to hide.”
“Well, there’s always ‘take the money and run’,” Lace said. The spy held up a data chip. It took Mel a moment to recognize it, and remember Roush’s words.
“Huh, eager words from the mercenary,” Bob said. “I do have a job. I’m sure my organization will want to know what happened to me.”
“And what will you tell them?” Marcus asked.
There was an awkward silence. Just the knowledge of a ‘rogue’ AI would be deadly information. If Bob, or his organization, let out any details… their problems would magnify.
“So… what, then?” Mel asked. “Bob goes back to his shadowy organization. Lace or whatever her name is, wants to cash in at GFN’s expense…”
“I, uh, vote for the money,” Swaim said.
&n
bsp; “What do you want to do?” Brian asked. The Genemod super-soldier stared at Mel with calm dark eyes.
“Me?” Mel asked. She didn’t really know what to say. “I’m not sure. For now… I’d like to stay with Fenris.”
“Thank you, Mel,” Fenris said.
For some reason, Mel flushed in embarrassment, “No problem.”
“I’m staying with you,” Marcus said. As if he needed to say so with his arm wrapped around me, Mel thought. His touch still made her uncomfortable, he had murdered her parents after all, but she wasn't certain what to do about that. In many ways, she cared deeply for him... it was just that parts of him horrified her.
“I’ll stick around,” Brian said. “I haven’t had this much fun in a while.”
Mel grimaced. If this was his idea of ‘fun,’ she wasn’t sure she wanted him along…
Then again, he did come in handy.
“So, where do we go, now?” Mel asked.
“I think Vagyr is right out,” Bob drawled.
“Probably a good bet,” Marcus said. He squeezed Mel tight and looked over at Lace, “You’ve no-doubt got contacts with the Mercenary Guild… how about Hanet?”
“What, you assume that since I’m a mercenary, I’d know the intricacies of getting a ship unnoticed into Hanet?” Lace rolled her eyes. She sighed though, “Yeah, we can go there. If Fenris can alter his electromagnetic signature somewhat and do some visual cosmetic modifications, we could slip in no problem.” She smiled slightly, “For a… token price, I can put you in contact with someone who can make some legitimate papers, launder this cash, and help you get started doing… whatever you intend to do.”
“Your going to charge us for your help?” Marcus sputtered.
“Mercenary, remember?” Lace asked. “Of course, Mel could… work some of the payment off with me,” She blinked her lashes at her suggestively.
Mel felt her ears flame. “Okay, Hanet it is. How much money you want?”
