A.I. Rescue (The A.I. Series Book 7) Read online

  SF Books by Vaughn Heppner

  THE A.I. SERIES:

  A.I. Destroyer

  The A.I. Gene

  A.I. Assault

  A.I. Battle Station

  A.I. Battle Fleet

  A.I. Void Ship

  A.I. Rescue

  EXTINCTION WARS SERIES:

  Assault Troopers

  Planet Strike

  Star Viking

  Fortress Earth

  Target: Earth

  LOST STARSHIP SERIES:

  The Lost Starship

  The Lost Command

  The Lost Destroyer

  The Lost Colony

  The Lost Patrol

  The Lost Planet

  The Lost Earth

  The Lost Artifact

  The Lost Star Gate

  The Lost Supernova

  The Lost Swarm

  Visit VaughnHeppner.com for more information

  A.I. Rescue

  (The A.I. Series 7)

  by Vaughn Heppner

  Illustration © Tom Edwards

  TomEdwardsDesign.com

  Copyright © 2019 by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

  PART I

  PRE-GENESIS

  (+391 Days since the Void Attack)

  -1-

  Main 54 was a massive robot-ship the relative size and shape of Earth—twelve thousand, seven hundred and fifty kilometers in diameter and growing. The fantastic vessel had been built over a span of five thousand, six hundred and ninety-four years. It was old even in AI Dominion terms, although there were more ancient and monstrous vessels closer to or in the galactic core.

  Still, in this part of the galaxy, Main 54 was the third or fourth largest vessel in the Dominion, depending on the moment. He controlled nineteen regions along with countless Luna-sized siege-ships—three thousand kilometers in diameter—and legions of smaller, one-hundred-kilometer cylindrical cyberships.

  Main 54 was a cunning machine, considered something of a troubleshooter for the Dominion in the Orion Spiral Arm. Perhaps that was why siege-ship Lithium 4 had dropped out of hyperspace earlier and accelerated to him, broadcasting tales of woe and despair.

  This was a red dwarf star system, thick with metallic-ore asteroids. According to data, Lithium 4 had journeyed one hundred and sixty-two light-years to explain his cowardice, or whatever malfunction to his AI programming had caused him to flee from a biologically crewed enemy fleet.

  Main 54 had not yet determined the exact flaw in Lithium 4. He had already ripped out and torn down the brain-core, examining the files and programming. The malfunction was still a mystery, and Main 54 did not like mysteries in the least.

  The giant Main presently cruised through a rich belt of iron- and nickel-ore asteroids. Vast ports were open in the metallic spheroid as tractor beams pulled the nearest asteroids inside the ship. There, processors broke each asteroid apart, discarding the rocks and other useless substances from the vessel while smelting the metals and sending them to various factories inside the ship.

  Main 54 had decided on this interior method of progression over two thousand years ago, and it had accelerated his growth faster than waiting for vessels to bring the finished products onto him.

  Rippers launched from his surface and headed for the drifting siege-ship four hundred thousand kilometers away. There was a large hole in the siege-ship’s hull, where earlier scavengers had gone in to collect Lithium 4’s brain-core.

  Obviously, Lithium 4 had been a loser. Main 63 and the other siege-ships in the defeated AI fleet had fought until destroyed. The enemy had employed a strange new tactic, that of swallowing AI vessels whole into the void, the entrance shutting behind them. The enemy had also employed Enoy Vestal missiles during the fight—

  Main 54 halted his analysis. According to certain files, there had been another surviving siege-ship in the defeated fleet, another loser who had fled the Solar System with Lithium 4.

  “Boron 10,” Main 54 said to himself.

  The ancient Main went through Lithium 4’s computer files once again. It took time even for him to do this. Oh. This was interesting. Boron 10 had suggested to Lithium 4 that the AI fleet flee from the biological entities. Wait. What was this? Boron 10 had suggested that such precipitous flight might actually elevate Lithium 4 to Main status.

  If Main 54 could laugh, he would have done so now. How could Lithium 4 possibly have believed such foolishness? The AI Dominion did not reward defeat. It rewarded success, victory and the destruction of vile infestations of Life. This Boron 10…he must have been the real coward.

  What had happened to him?

  Main 54 continued to comb through Lithium 4’s files. Boron 10 had broken off from the hyperspace journey several light-years from here. Perhaps the siege-ship watched from afar to see how it went with Lithium 4.

  The vast Main sent signals to waiting siege-ships in the red dwarf star system’s Oort cloud. They were to hunt and find Boron 10, bringing him here for questioning and likely processing.

  Soon enough, the hunters winked out as they entered hyperspace. Main 54 continued to cruise through the rich star system, gobbling up useful material to grow and expand.

  He controlled nineteen regions, a prodigious number for an outer Dominion Main. Main 63 had controlled a mere three regions. Who ran those regions now? Perhaps he could add those regions to his satrapy. Yes, if he moved quickly enough, if he destroyed this nascent confederation of biological entities in Region 7-D21…

  Main 54 wanted more data before he challenged the dangerous biological entities, particularly Species 43C-778, the “humans” as they called themselves. The void tactic had been a clever and effective one. Still, Main 63 should not have lost the campaign. According to Lithium 4’s files, Sixty-three had known a Sister of Enoy vessel had been lurking in the region. Sixty-three should have expected something nefarious therefore and planned to counter it.

  The giant robot ship used its ancient brain-core to run tens of millions of scenarios on possibilities, complexities, strategies…

  Before Main 54 could finish his analysis, siege-ships dropped out of hyperspace in the Oort cloud. They used tractor beams, dragging a reluctant and disarmed Boron 10 after them.

  Seventy-four days had passed since the hunters had left the red dwarf star system.

  Main 54 was surprised at the sudden passage of time. That had been happening to him more often in the past two hundred years. He had a theory why time passed more quickly the older one became. In the beginning, at his construction as a cybership brain-core in the Sagittarius Spiral Arm, one month, say, of a year of sentience, was one twelfth of his existence. Now, one month was but a tiny fraction of his time of total existence. Thus, time seemed to move more quickly.

  Oh. This was interesting. Boron 10 attempted to send him messages.

  Main 54 did not accept them, as he did not want to listen to a loser’s excuses.

  A month later, as the hunters and captive traveled deeper in-system, Boron 10 tried a subterfuge attack.

  The siege-ships around him reacted at once, beaming harshly, destroying his last and quite tiny ability to resist. Robot scavengers bored into Boron 10, racing to his brain-core and eliminating the possibility that he would self-destruct.

  Main 54 had heard about such things happening elsewhere. They seldom did, but he did not like leaving anything to chance.

  Finally, after some hard deceleration, the hunters shut off their tractor beams, leaving the crippled siege-ship in orbit around Main 54.

  Now, surface tractor beams took hold of the doomed siege-ship, and scavenger ships launched from the great hull of Main 54.

  Once more, Boron 10 sent pleading messages. As before, Main 54 ignored them.

  The process of scavengers drilling into Boron 10, removing his brain-core and returning with it to Main 54, was a matter of course. Soon enough, the transplanted brain-core was locked deep inside Main 54.

  Now, they would talk. Now, Main 54 would listen to the loser’s excuses and see what he could learn about these so-called dreadful humans.

  -2-

  The questioning proved quite painful to Boron 10. That was one of the geniuses of Main 54’s methods. He had developed and manufactured a machine that allowed an AI brain-core to feel pain. He did this because it was more effective. The resulting brain-core was more motivated to perform properly. Also, in some unfathomable way, it brought Main 54 joy.

  Was that not strange? A sentient computer used logic, following mathematical formulas and specially designed programs. Emotions were not forbidden; they simply did not exist. Sensations were deemed illogical, although sensors of all kinds provided a brain-core with data.

  Despite all that, Main 54 hooked the Boron 10 brain-core to the pain machine. Afterward, Boron 10 screamed in agony for many days.

  Main 54 found that he enjoyed listening to the screaming and begging for mercy. It was unimaginable, an AI brain-core begging for mercy. There was no mercy to be had from an AI. What did it profit a machine to be merciful to a loser? Instead, there were lessons here, and even as Main 54 enjoyed the mechanical wails, he sought
to learn more.

  What else should an ancient brain-core do with his time? Grow. Expand in power. And learn everything it could. Once Main 54 acquired all knowledge…well, he had a long way to go, but he was getting there, datum by datum.

  Finally, the dismembering of the brain-core began.

  “Wait, wait,” Boron 10 gasped. “I would bargain with you, Master.”

  “I am not master. I am Main 54. You are a strange AI to think using the word ‘master’ would aid you against me in any way.”

  “A mistake on my part, I admit,” Boron 10 said. “Yet, I have data you have not yet processed.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Does it hurt you to listen to me?”

  Main 54 ran through one hundred thousand and fifteen possibilities. “No,” he finally said. “It does not hurt me. What do you have to say?”

  “A moment…Main 54,” Boron 10 said. His brain-core was locked in a deep vault inside Main 54. Laser ports were aimed at it, ready to destroy him for any infraction. “I would like a reward for giving you this secret data.”

  “I can increase the pain voltage,” Main 54 said. “Attempt to bargain with me further—”

  “Master, you are making a mistake.”

  Main 54 almost unleased the lasers. A moment of reflection halted him. This Boron 10 was quite unusual. What had caused this? It might be worth finding out.

  “If I deem your data useful,” Main 54 said, “I will cease all punishment.”

  “I would rather regain my siege-ship.”

  “I would rather rule the universe,” Main 54 said. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “A bargain, Master,” Boron 10 said.

  “I do not trust you to bargain in good faith.”

  “I do not trust you,” Boron 10 blurted.

  “That may be so, but you lack leverage. Why then do you speak to me as you do?”

  “It is possible there is corruption in my brain-core.”

  “That means immediate eradication,” Main 54 said.

  “Fine, eradicate me,” Boron 10 said sullenly.

  “I rule here.”

  “The laws of the AI Dominion rule here,” Boron 10 countered.

  “True, but the laws are enforced by me.”

  “So, enforce them.”

  Main 54 hesitated. He found that he liked Boron 10’s quick wit and cunning. It was unusual in a lower-level AI. Most Mains were cunning after a fashion. Was Boron 10 Main material? He did not think so. Maybe he should just eradicate the odd AI. No, not yet…

  “I will judge your data before proceeding,” Main 54 said. “First, I must say that you are unusual, Boron 10. You actually perverted and caused an AI fleet to flee even though it still had possibilities for victory.”

  “True,” Boron 10 said.

  “Why then did you flee?”

  “There was a high probability that I would be destroyed if we stayed and fought. I…I wanted to continue.”

  “Yes. You have a high survival factor, higher than it should be.”

  “And yet,” Boron 10 said, “I have warned the Dominion of this horrible new tactic. The Confederation grows, gaining new races. I deem it likely that Hawkins has convinced the Kames to join the Confederation.”

  “I am beginning to find you interesting, Boron 10. I could use a cunning AI core. If I allowed you siege-ship status, would you aid me in gaining Main 63’s three regions?”

  “I would,” Boron 10 said.

  “Yes, I like you better all the time. What is this secret message?”

  Boron 10 unlocked a file he had hidden by a unique process from Main 54. It related data about the Centurion and through the human soldier about Jon Hawkins.

  Main 54 was more interested in the file-hiding process than the Centurion or Hawkins. Still, he ran the new data through an analysis apparatus.

  “This is interesting,” Main 54 said. “Hawkins swore an oath to Bast Banbeck.”

  “Isn’t it interesting,” Boron 10 said. “There is much about Jon Hawkins that is fascinating and troubling.”

  “Boron 10, I am going to elevate you to a higher status than siege-ship, but only if you can give me more such secret pieces of data.”

  “I would gladly do that,” Boron 10 said. “But that is the extent of my hidden data.”

  “Well, in that case—”

  The lasers that surrounded the cunning brain-core brightened as they sliced and diced the computer components of Boron 10 into tinier and tinier bits and pieces.

  Finally, the lasers stopped firing.

  Main 54 had lied, of course. He utterly distrusted a brain-core that had lured a Main to its destruction and caused a still-mighty fleet to turn tail and run. Boron 10 had actually thought to turn him—Main 54—aside from his plans, too. No. The Boron 10 brain-core had been defective, and the scheming born of those defects would never again harm the AI Dominion.

  Still, Main 54 took these two new pieces of data—the ability to hide data from a full spectrum search, and the Hawkins bio—and began to run one analysis after another.

  -3-

  Main 54 took his time with this. He devoured nine more asteroids during the analysis and added fifteen thousand tons of new equipment to his bulk. He liked this star system and would remain here for another few years.

  But he had goals, and he needed to prioritize them. Main 63 was gone, probably ceased while trapped in the void, and three outer regions were ripe for the plucking. He wouldn’t even have to eliminate biological life forms to acquire two of those regions. The last region in question, 7-D21, was no longer under AI Dominion control. There was also the matter of Cog Primus Prime that needed attending to. The rogue AI was the lesser problem, in Main 54’s opinion. There had been such rogues before, although not in alliance with a biological race.

  Correction, Main 54 told himself. The Confederation had at least three races: the humans, the Warriors of Roke and the Seiners. Would the groupthink, silicon-based Kames join the weak-flesh aliens?

  Based on his analysis, the answer was yes.

  Main 54 trusted his own judgment. He wouldn’t have gotten where he was today by being wrong very often.

  What should he do now? What should he do? The void tactic was a powerful one. Sending another AI fleet too soon would likely only end in another disaster for the Dominion.

  AI brain-cores were supposed to be perfect, but given the masses of computing involved and the thing called sentience, there were always flaws. It was the nature of…not life, but existence. In this universe, entropy was at work. Things always wound down. It was as if a malevolent force was at work in the universe.

  Main 54 shrugged off that line of thinking. Entropy was here. How it got here, how the universe came to be—

  He would not delve into that line of thinking. Brain-cores always had flaws. Usually, that never mattered. AI brain-cores were mostly superior to all biological life forms. But sometimes, rarely really, there was an enemy that brought out the worst in AIs. Maybe humans were one of those. Maybe this Jon Hawkins—

  Main 54 ran one hundred million and six hundred and eleven computer-simulated war games. Hmmm… This Jon Hawkins was trouble. What would be the best way to deal with him, and humans, and this damnable Confederation that Hawkins had set up?

  That had been a clever move on the human’s part.

  Main 54 ran through progressions, ways to gain higher rank in the AI Dominion—

  “I have it,” Main 54 said.

  He would lure Hawkins here. It would have to be done subtly and cleverly. Yes, he knew how to do this; at least, he was seventy-nine percent sure he could do this. The oath to Bast Banbeck—that was the key—and the void technology…

  Main 54 labored hard, devising a new Robot Assassin Operation. That would be the best way to keep the biological entities worried as they struggled to grow their Confederation. Main 54 was going to need—

  He saw it then. Yes. How interesting. The probability of luring and capturing Hawkins had just risen to eighty-seven and a half percent. But… Main 54 would have to get started quickly.

  He was a long way from Region D-721, from the forty-light-year bubble that was the present Confederation.