A.I. Void Ship (The A.I. Series Book 6) Page 17

  Jon half shrugged. Maybe that was the answer. The Sisterhood wanted to keep its hands clean.

  He walked around the aquarium, figuring the machines around it should have made more noise. The null outside the ship kept trying to break in and nullify their reality.

  Jon shivered. As he did, he came upon Gloria hunched in a circular control area. His wife had sweaty features as her delicate fingers kept tapping and making little swirls on the controls. The Martian mentalist also wore a tight-fitting helmet. Wires went from the top of the helmet to a machine. That machine had other wires that went into the salt water, obviously sending signals to Red Demeter’s helmet.

  Jon stood beside the circular control area, waiting.

  Finally, Gloria must have noticed him. She sat straighter, slowly removed the helmet and gave him a look of such apathy and resignation that he felt horrible for her.

  “Trouble?” asked Jon. Gloria had sent him an urgent message earlier.

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “Red Demeter is resisting my reprogramming. She can’t get past our low nature. To the Seiners, humans are animals. The idea of working together fills her with too much disgust.”

  “We’re all going to die then.”

  “You don’t have to convince me,” Gloria said. “She’s the problem.”

  “I don’t understand how a telepath can see into the void.”

  “Frankly, I don’t either,” Gloria said.

  Jon looked at the alien floating in the aquarium. The process seemed barbaric, and yet, wasn’t that exactly what Seiners did to humans, reprogram their minds? Can two wrongs make a right?

  Jon shook his head. This wasn’t a matter of right or wrong right now in an ethical sense. This was about being practical in a rational sense. The Nathan Graham needed Red Demeter, but they needed her in a way that they could use her.

  “Is there anyone else who can do this reprogramming?” he asked his wife.

  “Maybe Bast could,” Gloria said. “But I’m not sure I trust him to see it through.”

  “What then?” asked Jon.

  “I would say coffee,” Gloria said, “but as a mentalist I must refuse such stimulus.”

  “You look exhausted.”

  “How much time do we have left?” Gloria asked.

  Jon shook his head.

  She reached up and touched his hands. “Will you stay with me?” she asked in a small voice.

  He avoided looking at the floating Seiner. For some reason, he hated being in this room.

  “I’ll stay,” he said. “You can bet on it.”

  “Then let’s get back to work,” Gloria said. “Maybe we can catch ourselves a break for once…”

  -11-

  Zeta stood before an ethereal screen in a strange electrical chamber deep in the Rose of Enoy. The outer shell of the patrol vessel looked like an asteroid. The inner ship was nothing like that, however. Ree had never managed to find a way into the interior vessel.

  There was a reason for that.

  Ree was young, less than three hundred cycles. That translated to roughly five hundred terrestrial years. Ree had not yet learned to sufficiently order her being to the level needed to pass the strict inner safeguards of this area of the ship.

  Zeta flickered with greater intensity, although she remained in her general lightning-bolt outline. She used a screen to watch the progress of the Nathan Graham as the cybership attempted to maneuver in the void, a contradiction in terms.

  It was a clumsy vessel and would quickly dissipate into nothing once it left the reality field generated from inside the Rose of Enoy.

  Even if the biological creatures could find the platform, the humans and their alien compatriots would likely prove too weak to work fast enough. Yes. The mutant Walleye had captured the Seiner, and now the mentalist reprogrammed the telepathically inclined alien in a salt-water tank. Zeta frankly doubted that the mentalist had the ruthlessness of spirit to reprogram Demeter harshly enough to complete her tasks with enough zest.

  What was it about Hawkins that had appealed to her? He had zest, certainly. He had style. He had built up from almost nothing to challenge the death machines. That wasn’t utterly unique in the annals of battle against the machines. But it had not happened often, and not quite in the way Hawkins had achieved it.

  How long did the humans, the Warriors of Roke and the Seiners have before the Main left the Demon Star, as the humans called the Algol System nuclear ball of energy?

  The Algol System was a little over ninety light-years away. That could mean as little as one hundred and eighty days, somewhat over one third of a year, for the messenger to reach there and a return fleet to come here. That would hardly give the fledging Confederation time to retool one of the factory planets. If they had three years, say…

  No! The Confederation would not have that long.

  Zeta made some acute mental computations. She would remain in the general vicinity, but not for the reasons that Hawkins had suggested. She and Ree would stick around, ready to implement the self-destruct sequences that would detonate all Enoy-loaned technology. On no account, could she allow the AIs the opportunity to acquire the home dimension’s technology.

  If there was hardly a chance that the Confederation could succeed—

  Zeta cackled with Enoy mirth, tiny electrical discharges leaving her form. She was more than bored with the fringe patrol. A grave state of ennui had almost descended upon her. She would enjoy the spectacle of Hawkins striving so mightily. It would help to alleviate her boredom to believe that maybe she could see something she’d never seen before.

  As long as she held to that belief—Hawkins’ intensity had warmed her soul just enough—then she would give him the chance that he so desperately craved.

  That, in the end, might be the AIs’ greatest asset. The machines never got bored with the endless grind of existence.

  Boredom—that was the reason Zeta enjoyed toying with short-lived biological creatures. They yearned so desperately that some of their yearning must have bled off from them to her.

  Zeta sighed. Then, she continued to watch the Nathan Graham nose around in the nothingness of the void. After endless cycles of existence, the search for entertainment was all that drove her to continue to remain on the endless patrol.

  -12-

  Red Demeter screamed in horror, collapsing into a shallow pool of salt water.

  The Seiner wore a tight-fitting helmet, with small prongs on the top with various colored points.

  Gloria sat behind a console, studying her controls.

  “Well?” Jon asked.

  “Emptiness,” Demeter moaned as she lay in the shallow salt pool. “It is nothing but a great emptiness of nothing. Please. I cannot bear to look again. It will devour my mind.”

  Gloria looked up at Jon.

  “Again,” he said. “Without the platform, we’re doomed.”

  “The looking might kill her,” Gloria whispered.

  “Then it kills her,” Jon said. “What choice do we have?”

  “Surely we can think of another solution,” Gloria said.

  “By all means,” Jon said. “Give me one.”

  Gloria stared down at her controls. “I don’t have another answer.”

  “Then Demeter takes another look,” Jon said.

  Slowly, Gloria reached up and tapped various controls. That caused lights on the Seiner’s helmet prongs to flash in various sequences.

  Red Demeter sat up with a fierce look of concentration on her blue-scaled face. She closed her eyes, shivered dreadfully and then seemed to become slightly more serene.

  Seconds later, her eyes flashed open. She screamed soundlessly, making croaking noises in the end. Finally, mercifully, she collapsed and splashed back into her saltwater pool.

  “It’s hopeless,” Gloria whispered. “Whatever she sees out there…is too powerful for her.”

  Jon stared at the pitiful form in the water. Without a word, he turned and walked away.

  “
Where are you going?” Gloria asked.

  “To think,” Jon said.

  He left the lab and walked down a corridor with his head tilted forward, trying to figure out something. He wasn’t a tech. He—

  Jon snapped his fingers. Maybe they should study the brain-tap machine. Maybe there was an alien mind-pattern hidden in there that would allow them to see or understand the situation properly. Yet, how would they do that? Could he ask for volunteers, telling them that alien thought patterns would take over their mind?

  Could the Seiner see something in the brain-tap machine that the rest of them missed?

  Jon could not see how. Maybe he needed to talk to Walleye. Yet, what could the mutant tell him?

  “Jon Hawkins.”

  Jon’s head snapped up. He found himself staring at Bast Banbeck. The Sacerdote wore a long robe today, and he seemed blank-faced.

  “What did you say?” asked Jon.

  “Jon Hawkins, it is time we came to a true understanding.”

  Jon peered more closely at Bast. “Zeta?” he asked.

  Bast blinked several times, and he seemed to snap out of a trance. A second later, the huge Sacerdote fingered the flowing robe and gave Jon a questioning glance.

  “You’re the one who put it on,” Jon said.

  “Yes…” Bast said. “I had a dream. I spoke to one of the Sisterhood.”

  “Zeta,” Jon said.

  Bast eyed him carefully. “You said that name before. Is it significant?”

  “What did the Sister look like?”

  “Lightning,” Bast said.

  “That’s Zeta. What did she say?”

  Bast frowned. “I can’t remember.”

  “Well, try, Bast. It’s important.”

  Bast looked up at the ceiling as he folded his gorilla-like arms across his massive chest. “You…cannot…succeed,” he said slowly.

  “We can’t find the platform? Is that what she told you?”

  “We…of…Enoy…”

  “Yes, yes,” Jon said. “We of Enoy…?”

  “Are unique in existence,” Bast said, talking a little faster than before. “We found the void and ways to travel through the void. That has given us an advantage against the AIs that has lasted for twenty thousand years.”

  “You’re remembering pretty good now,” Jon said.

  Bast nodded. “A floodgate has opened in my mind,” the Sacerdote said in his normal voice. Then he took on the droning way of speaking again. “We have the tools to defend ourselves until time runs down. We are safe. But we—I—have grown weary of the endless AI victories. That is boring. The Seiner was your only hope of duplicating our amazing feat. But the truth is that a thousand Seiners, a million, would fail just as Red Demeter has failed.”

  “So what’s the point of all this screwing around?” Jon shouted.

  “Our aid comes at a price.”

  “Oh, boy,” Jon said. “Here it is.”

  “You do not understand,” Bast intoned. “We do not demand payment for ourselves. But entering and exiting the void will change each of you in ways I do not yet perceive. The more times you do this, the greater will be the effect.”

  “Change us how?” asked Jon.

  Bast shrugged his massive shoulders.

  “Was that the Enoy talking or you?” Jon asked.

  “Me,” Bast said.

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  The Sacerdote shook his head.

  “Uh…okay,” Jon said. “It will change us. That’s better than dying or letting the human race go extinct.”

  “Ah!” Bast said, brightening. “Given your answer, I have a final instruction for you. Go to the bridge and await contact. Zeta will speak to you and give you the next step.”

  “That’s it?” asked Jon.

  Bast seemed to look inside his mind, finally nodding his Neanderthal-shaped head.

  “Great,” Jon said. “Come on, then. Let’s get to the bridge.”

  -13-

  Jon sat in his command chair on the bridge. He’d already given orders to Gloria to let Red Demeter sleep for as long as the Seiner liked.

  Bast paced nearby.

  Jon didn’t really care for the big guy lumbering back and forth, but today he didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop.

  “Jon Hawkins,” said an alien voice from the main screen speaker.

  Jon looked up. There was nothing new on the screen, just the same blank. But he sensed an alien scrutiny nonetheless.

  “Zeta?” he asked.

  “It is I,” she said.

  “I got your message,” he said.

  “Excellent. The Sacerdote was an easy tool.”

  Bast scowled, and he no longer paced, but stood with his arms crossed as he stared at the screen.

  “I have a few questions for you,” Jon said.

  “Hold on to them, please,” Zeta said, “as I will now instruct you. If you have any questions after that, fine. I will attempt to answer those I deem important.

  “Commander Hawkins, there is no conceivable way for you to leave the void except through my agency. Are you clear on that?”

  “Perfectly,” Jon said.

  “We will make one…I will call it a transfer. Movement through the realm of null is a paradox. I do not believe your apish brains are advanced enough yet to understand what is taking place. Sufficient for now that the process works. Know, however, that each transfer will change you and your crew yet a little more. I am not sure you will appreciate the cumulative effects.”

  “Will we turn into Elder Gods sprouting tentacles?” Jon asked.

  “Please, do not interrupt me with frivolous questions. Certainly, your bodies will not transform into other beings. I am talking about your brains and outlooks.”

  “Oh,” Jon said.

  “The point being, your hominid forms will limit you to the number of times you can transfer through the void. You must choose each transfer carefully. Because once an individual’s limit is reached, there is nothing that can lengthen it.”

  “Got it,” Jon said.

  “I doubt that, but you have been warned. Now, given these limitations, I believe you must choose wisely your first destination.”

  “Meaning?”

  “What is your first destination point?” Zeta asked. “Do you wish to exit the void in the Beta Hydri System, the Allamu System, the Solar System, where?”

  “Oh. I see.” Jon turned to Bast.

  The Sacerdote still had his arms folded across his chest as he scowled at the main screen.

  “Did any of my fleet survive the siege-ship?” Jon asked the Enoy.

  “Indeed,” Zeta said. “There are three crippled cybership-class vessels and two Roke bombards orbiting the factory moon.”

  “Two Roke ships survived?”

  “Do you question my veracity?” Zeta asked.

  “What? Oh. No. I’m just glad to hear that some Warriors of Roke survived the battle. That should help make explaining things to the other Roke easier.”

  Zeta said nothing.

  “How about this,” Jon said. “Can you scoop up the others and take all of us to the Allamu System?”

  “Let me check some factors,” Zeta said. “Yes. It is barely possible. Are you certain this is your choice?”

  “Do you think it’s a bad one?”

  “I am not the Supreme Commander for the Confederation. That is for you to decide.”

  “So…let me get this straight first. The Seiner was a distraction for us. Demeter never could have found the platform?”

  “The Seiner needed to undergo the terrible strain of viewing the void with her telepathy. You have greatly changed her by this. I doubt she will welcome the change. Thus, I urge you to always keep her under a tight mental leash. She will no doubt attempt to kill you the first chance she has.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Jon said.

  “You will need her changes, believe me.”

  “Why not just—oh, forget it.”

  “Yo
u also needed to learn the absolute dependency you have upon the Sisterhood. If you attempt actions we deem against the best interests of Enoy, all your so-called void tech will detonate everywhere.”

  Jon let that sink in.

  “Do you comprehend me?” Zeta asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Yes. I believe you do. Very well, Jon Hawkins, I will ‘scoop up’ your fellow fleet vessels and transfer the lot of you to the Allamu System. You will appear quite close to the factory planet. Time is critical. There, I will give you the schematics to a null-splitter, a quantum-pi power plant, a reality generator and a Vestal missile. You must immediately begin to retool your factory plant if you hope to have any…void-capable vessels once the Main hits your Confederation.”

  “Will this Main come with a big fleet?” Jon asked.

  “That, Jon Hawkins, is the great question. It will depend on several factors, I’m sure. The situation will undoubtedly become a mathematical formula. Can you create a void-capable fleet big enough to crush the next AI invasion? I submit that we shall know within the year.”

  PART IV

  MAIN 63

  The Demon Star: Algol, designated Beta Persei, is a multiple star in the constellation of Perseus. The name Algol derives from Arabic, which means head of the ogre. The English name demon star is a direct translation of this.

  Historically, Algol is considered one of the unluckiest stars in the sky, with a strong association with bloody violence.

  -1-

  Three factory planets churned at hellish speeds in the Algol System, 90 light-years from Earth. From space, areas of each planet glowed as mighty furnaces supplied the needed power to run the machine worlds. From the conquered planets, heavy lifters rose from laser launch-sites on beams of light, heading into orbital space.

  The massive launch-ships did not bring their cargos to newly assembled cyberships or battle stations. Instead, like stellar ants, the thousands of lifters either headed for or returned from a Mars-sized vessel of gleaming metal. Upon landing on the gargantuan world-ship, the lifters disgorged computer hardware, extra armor plating, missiles, power coils, engine components, batteries, tubing, gravitational cannons and a myriad of other parts. The emptied lifters then departed. Robots took every item, adding to the terrible death machine known as Main 63.