A.I. Assault (The A.I. Series Book 3) Page 15

  “Can you follow the tracks to their end?” Walleye asked.

  “I can,” Methlan said. “I doubt any other could.”

  Walleye glanced at June. She turned away quickly, hiding her face from them. A muffled noise came from her.

  Methlan gloated inwardly. He’d just witnessed an amazing thing. Walleye had sent a wordless message to June Zen. In her understanding of his—Methlan’s—brilliance, she had turned away. She must have done so because she realized that she had hitched herself to the weaker man. She must not want Walleye to understand that—

  She is trying to hide her feelings toward me, Methlan realized.

  The feeling of power just now was awesome indeed. A prisoner could still vie for rank if he had the wit and wisdom, and the daring, of a noble of Janus House.

  “Are you searching?” Walleye asked in a subdued tone.

  “At once,” Methlan said. He tried to conceal his dominance. He actually tried to be meek in order to further dig his tentacles into their desperation. Without his technical brilliance, the humans would falter at this important juncture.

  Methlan concentrated on his board, studying the surface tracks, using the ship’s teleoptics to trace them both ways.

  Soon, Methlan sat up triumphantly. “Lieutenant, I have discovered the AI base. The tracks led me to it. I have used seismic measurements and discovered a cavity under the ice. The thickness of the ice would hide any thermal radiation. Yet, I am convinced that within the cavity lies the robot factory base that built the Senda-launched ship we destroyed.”

  “What about the tracks leading the other way?” asked Walleye.

  “That proves my theory. The placement at the end of the tracks in the other direction showed several centimeters’ greater depth into the ice.”

  “Why, do you think?”

  “The crawler launched an object,” Methlan said. “The launching recoil caused the crawler to sink that much deeper into the ice.”

  “You think the crawler launched a satellite?”

  “I believe so,” Methlan said.

  “Why couldn’t we find the satellite?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps it used the gravity of one of the moons to catapult itself elsewhere, shutting down after a time.”

  “Maybe the satellite is hiding behind one of the moons in relation to us,” June suggested.

  “I like it,” Walleye told her. He nodded afterward. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”

  ***

  Walleye launched three drones, one of them the Hercules monster. Methlan guided the big one. It trailed the Daisy Chain 4 while heading down to a much lower orbit. Meanwhile, June controlled the other two drones. Each of those drones headed for a different moon.

  Thirty-two minutes later, June said, “Walleye, I found something.”

  The mutant slid off the command chair and went to her station, studying whatever she had on her board.

  “That’s it,” Walleye said. “Let’s take it out. Oh, and June, put it on the main screen so Methlan can watch.”

  Methlan appreciated the appeal to appease him. It showed him that humans didn’t understand prisoner status. He watched.

  June’s drone headed for an alien comm satellite. As the drone approached the object, jets appeared. The satellite attempted to flee.

  “Any time, Luscious,” Walleye said.

  June looked at up him, smiling. “I’ll let you do it,” she said.

  Methlan waited for Walleye to turn and ask him to do the honors. He would enjoy feeling June’s body heat. The mutant surprised him, though. With one of his stubby fingers, Walleye pressed the detonation switch.

  On the screen, the drone exploded. That killed the picture, and no doubt, destroyed the robot satellite.

  Walleye returned to his command chair. He seemed to walk with more cock, as the soldiers of Janus House would say.

  “Let’s get ready for round two,” Walleye said.

  Methlan knew the mutant meant him. It irked him that the humans hadn’t desired him to destroy the robot satellite. They seemed so eager to placate him. Why wouldn’t they give him a soldier’s honors?

  “Methlan,” Walleye said. “Is your drone ready?”

  Methlan twisted his mouth with distaste while his back was turned to the mutant. How dare Walleye question his readiness for action.

  No, no, Methlan reminded himself. He must lull these two. That was the game. He was getting ahead of himself because he was still thinking too much like the High Race. He was now among weaklings and cowards who thought much differently.

  “Oh, Methlan,” Walleye called in a gentle voice. “If I could have your attention.”

  Methlan almost laughed aloud. Maybe he had miscalculated again. See how Walleye spoke with such deference to him?

  “The drone is ready,” Methlan declared.

  “All right,” Walleye said. “Let’s see if we can get the robots to open up for us.”

  The mutant used the controls in his command chair to maneuver the destroyer. He brought them lower to the icy surface.

  They headed toward the hidden cavity in the ice. Walleye launched two missiles. They screamed down toward the surface, heading for the hidden cavity area.

  Abruptly, the surface ice exploded. Two antimissile launchers appeared and fired rockets. Another tube extended. It chugged shells at the destroyer.

  “Finally,” Walleye breathed. “Methlan, bring your big one low over the surface. Ram it down their throats if you can. I’ll try to keep them engaged.”

  The slugs from the orbital gun sped upward. Senda only had a slight gravity pull.

  Walleye launched packets of sand into the shells’ paths. The packets exploded, dispersing sand in a greater area. The slugs plowed against the sand. The particles did not stop the slugs, but it changed their direction of travel.

  The antimissiles destroyed the destroyer missiles heading down.

  “I see another slug thrower,” June said.

  “Methlan,” Walleye said. “What’s the progress?”

  “Less than thirty seconds to impact,” Methlan said as he avidly watched his scope.

  Walleye launched more sand-packets. He looked up at the main screen then.

  Methlan tapped his board and swiveled around. He wanted to see this in all its glory. The Hercules drone sped across the icy moonscape as if it were a cruise missile. It burned fast. The cavity appeared five kilometers ahead of it.

  “The gun tubes are firing,” June said.

  Methlan glanced at Walleye. The mutant bit his lower lip in nervousness. Methlan grinned triumphantly. They needed his iron nerves. In that moment, Methlan realized he must do whatever he could to stay alive. Sooner or later, the others would recognize his greatness and yearn to serve under him. In time, he might even rule the Solar System. Then, he would hunt the galaxy for his Ten Worlds.

  On the screen, the big drone turned down into the cavity. It reached the orbital gun tubes and antimissile launchers. Below those were metal buildings, the tip of the iceberg of a probable underground robo-construction yard.

  The drone’s warhead exploded with a matter/antimatter detonation. A gigantic blast erupted, burning and devouring the tubes, launchers, buildings and ices all around it.

  Walleye switched images. The destroyer passed in orbit over Senda. Below, the giant explosion appeared as a massive white blast.

  “We’re getting out of here before the radiation hits us,” Walleye said.

  The Daisy Chain 4 used some of its last fuel to accelerate around the dwarf planet before the heat, EMP and radiation reached the destroyer’s outer hull.

  As soon as the vessel was out of danger, Walleye grinned widely. It made him uglier than ever. “We did it. We scratched us some paint. Doesn’t it feel good?”

  “I suppose,” June Zen said.

  “Definitely,” Methlan said.

  “Definitely,” Walleye repeated. “I wonder if that’s going to change what the cybership does.”

  “W
hy would it?” Methlan asked.

  “I don’t know. Just hoping out loud.” Walleye slid off his seat. “Come on, Methlan. Let’s get you to the gym. I’ll have to take you to your cell afterward.”

  Methlan rose slowly, and finally nodded in agreement. He had hoped—it didn’t matter what he’d hoped. He hated sitting alone in his cell. But maybe that was for the best. He needed to rethink a few things and make his plans for taking over the destroyer.

  -6-

  The Nathan Graham accelerated away from Makemake at 60 gravities. The cybership headed in-system, presently moving toward the Saturn System.

  Jon received Walleye’s message. The modified NSN destroyer had eliminated the only known robo-construction yard on Senda. Some robots could have survived down there. Walleye doubted they had much capacity to do any more mischief, however.

  “Keep yourself and the destroyer intact,” Jon messaged Walleye. “If you survive the approaching cybership, you might be out there awhile. Ration as necessary. If we win, rest assured we’ll come out there to pick you up.”

  Walleye maintained comm silence afterward. Meanwhile, the Nathan Graham continued to accelerate.

  The two enemy cyberships continued to move at their terrific velocity. The third cybership still maintained its approach toward Senda.

  Two days passed.

  Jon rose from bed with a headache. He’d had a nightmare he couldn’t remember. He realized the cabin comm had woken him and had broken the nightmare’s spell.

  “What is it?” he said, after touching the comm control.

  “This is Gloria, Captain. We need you on the bridge.”

  “Coming,” he said. He didn’t ask what it was. He’d find out soon enough.

  Jon ran most of the way. He ran more for the exercise than out of a sense of urgency. It was too easy to get stale and out of shape as the commander.

  He walked onto the bridge sweating and panting. He’d take a shower once he had dealt with the problem. Then, he’d eat some breakfast and drink some strong coffee.

  Ghent and Kling must have been sleeping. Their replacements stood at their stations. Gloria stood near the big screen, staring at it. She glanced at him as he approached.

  “What happened to you?” she asked.

  “Took a sprint,” Jon said.

  “For Heaven’s sake, I didn’t need—”

  “You woke me up, remember? What’s the problem?”

  She pointed at the screen. A lone cybership had a long exhaust tail, longer than he’d seen on any of the others.

  “It’s braking?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Accelerating?”

  She nodded.

  There could be only one reason for this. “Is it joining the others?”

  “Given its new heading and the extent of the acceleration—I think so,” she said.

  “Are the other two still following us?”

  “Of course.”

  “They’re going to bypass MK2?”

  “So far it looks like they might. But who knows? At that far out…” She shrugged.

  “They’re obviously concentrating their forces.”

  “That is my estimate as well. For what it’s worth, at this juncture, it looks like they’re going to fall for your lure.”

  Jon didn’t say anything. He just watched the lone cybership accelerate so it could join its brothers in human genocide. Finally, he shook his head. “That clinches one thing. Saturn System and the Nathan Graham might have taken on two cyberships and hoped to win. We can’t take on three.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s time I opened negotiations with Earth.”

  “Yes,” she said. “We might as well find out the worst.”

  ***

  Jon sat at the same big desk, with the same Black Anvil Regimental flag behind him as when he’d spoken to the Chief Executive of the Uranus System. He wore a dress uniform. He’d showered, eaten a good meal and drunk plenty of coffee. This time, they would record the message and modify it if necessary.

  “What do we know?” Jon asked.

  Gloria had joined him this time instead of Bast Banbeck. “Did you read the Intelligence packet?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” he said. “What’s the pertinent information?”

  The Intelligence packet had come from the Saturn System. It gave them the latest concerning the Solar League.

  “J.P. Justinian is dead,” Gloria said.

  “Oh? Wow! That’s huge! I’m surprised no one told us before this.”

  “I think the Saturn Secret Service only learned about it a short time ago. He died after a short trial. The tribunal declared the former Premier as an enemy to the State and a devourer of the People.”

  “You could say that about any Social Dynamist.”

  Gloria shrugged. “With Justinian, it was even truer.”

  “They shot him?”

  “That wasn’t in the packet. He’s dead. Now, someone named Frank Benz is the new Premier.”

  “What do we know about him?”

  “He’s a military man. That’s quite odd given Social Dynamism’s political theory. He’s supposed to be some kind of genius.”

  “Aren’t they all?” Jon asked.

  “Why are you so cynical?”

  “Social Dynamism destroyed my world when they invaded the Saturn System. That probably killed the colonel, if you think about it. We would have never been in the Neptune System—”

  “Jon. No. We’re lucky you and the regiment were in the Neptune System when the cybership showed up. Who knows if any people would even be alive now.”

  Jon looked away.

  “Since Benz is a military man,” Gloria said. “You may be able to appeal to his strategic sense.”

  “You know this is a long shot, right? I doubt—”

  “Jon. What’s wrong with you? You’re grabbing for the brass ring. As you once chided me, why be negative? If you’re going to win, if you’re going to give your all, why not believe it’s possible? You did before.”

  Jon faced the screen at the edge of the desk. “That’s good advice. Let’s do this.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to say?”

  “Not exactly, but I have the gist of it right here.” He tapped the spot over his heart.

  “I’m ready when you are,” Gloria said. Her hand hovered over the record button.

  “Go,” Jon said.

  She touched the button.

  Jon cleared his throat as he stared intently into the screen. “This is Jon Hawkins of the Black Anvil Regiment. Firstly—”

  Jon stopped abruptly. “What’s wrong? Why are you shaking your head?”

  “We’re the SFF or the Nathan Graham.”

  “What did I say?”

  “The Black Anvil Regiment.”

  He sighed. “I guess that’s how I still see myself. Okay. Let’s start again.”

  She reset the screen, watched it, and chopped her hand decisively.

  “Hello, Premier Benz. This is Captain Jon Hawkins of the SFF Nathan Graham speaking.”

  Gloria nodded in an exaggerated manner.

  “First, sir, I would like to congratulate you on your ascension to supreme leadership of the Solar League. We are going to need good leadership in the coming days. As you are no doubt aware, three alien cyberships have appeared in our Solar System. They entered more than one thousand AUs from the Sun. Since then, they have been traveling at incredible speed toward our populated centers. Premier, I have faced a cybership before. They are deadly foes. I would like to plead with you that you not underestimate their danger.

  “Premier Benz, the cyberships as a society prowl the galaxy in search of what they call biological infestations. They have slaughtered thousands of intelligent races. Bast Banbeck is a member of our crew. He is a Sacerdote, a friendly alien from another star system. His race is dead, slaughtered by the cyberships.

  “I have seen horrifying things on the cybership. The AIs are inhuma
n. They use people as if they were mere objects, not as created beings made in God’s image.”

  Gloria cleared her throat.

  “What now?” Jon asked. “I was just getting going.”

  “Social Dynamism does not recognize God,” she said. “The Premier will find your religious reference as insulting to his intelligence.”

  “More fool him.”

  “Jon, we’re trying to convince him to work with us, to save human life. We’re not trying to get him to believe what he doesn’t believe.”

  “Okay. I can change that part, I suppose.”

  “Please do.”

  Jon looked at her for a moment before he faced the screen again. “Go.”

  She nodded.

  “Premier Benz, the AIs are incredibly dehumanizing. They treat us as objects, as mere machines. They desire to wipe out human life. I suggest we put aside our differences for the moment. Neither of us wins if the human race loses. I believe we must pool our warships into one giant fist. That fist has to hit the cyberships and destroy them.

  “I realize you must be wondering about the aftermath. To our knowledge, the AIs have formed the only known galactic society. Granted, we have limited knowledge, at best, hearsay. But if true, we are alone in our struggle against a mighty AI empire. I have a solution. That solution lies in the belly of my captured cybership. I’m referring to the robot-building tech. If and when we defeat these three cyberships, I am willing to share the alien robo-tech with you. In that way, the entire Solar System can retool for round three. Of course, that means we have to survive round two.

  “Unless we unite, Premier, I doubt humanity has a chance. Frankly, it was by sheerest chance that I was able to capture this vessel. Chance and hard fighting by my men. Let’s use our opportunity and survive. I await your answer, sir, and I hope for the best. Yours in command, Captain Jon Hawkins.”

  Gloria clicked the switch.

  “How did that sound?” he asked.

  “Good for the most part,” she said.

  “What didn’t you like?”

  “We need to change your title. If you’re leading the Solar Freedom Force, shouldn’t you be something more than a captain?”

  “I guess. What do you suggest?”