A.I. Assault (The A.I. Series Book 3) Page 21

  Gloria sipped her water. “You’re correct. What can we do about it?”

  “Complain bitterly,” Jon said. He took a healthy swallow of wine. “Even if we win—”

  “Jon, this is an end of the world scenario. This is Armageddon. We’re facing three cyberships. Humanity should have died to the lone AI destroyer. This could be humanity’s final hour. We’re trying to keep from going over the edge of genocide. No matter what we do, we’re going to take losses, maybe crippling losses.”

  “You know what gets me?” Jon said. “The more the AIs kill us, the more I want to go out there and hunt the bastards down. I don’t just want to stop them. I want to scour the entire galaxy if I must, and destroy every cybership and arrogant AI I can.”

  “Rage,” Bast said. “Your rage possesses heat.” The huge fingers wrapped around the latest beer bottle, dwarfing it. He put the bottle to his lips and guzzled it dry. Smacking his lips, he went, “Ahhhh…I love beer. You humans—”

  Bast belched. It was loud and wet, and it happened to be aimed in Gloria’s direction.

  “Really, Bast,” she said. “Must you do that? I find it disgusting.”

  Bast laughed. It was a deep hearty sound. “Beer!” he roared. “Give me more beer!”

  “Maybe you’ve had enough,” Jon said.

  Bast peered at Jon. It almost seemed as if the Sacerdote found that difficult to do.

  “How many bottles have you drunk?” Gloria asked.

  Bast slowly shook his head. “I have forgotten. I have totally forgotten. That is such a wonderful feeling. Remembering all the time is…is…” He opened his mouth, massaged his stomach and belched wetly one more time.

  “I’m going to leave if you keep doing that,” Gloria said.

  “My apologies, sweet lady,” Bast said. “I shall desist from this moment forth.”

  Jon smiled as he swirled his goblet. It was good to see Bast relax. What would it be like—the lone representative of a dead alien race? He’d never given it much thought.

  Jon took another swallow of wine. “Why don’t you have any?” he asked Gloria.

  She tapped her forehead. “My power is my mind. I dare not damage it in the slightest.”

  Bast shouted at a waiter, ordering another six bottles of beer. The waiter hurried out, coming back and placing the bottles before him. The Sacerdote twisted off the first cap, guzzling the bottle dry.

  “I take it they didn’t have beer in your star system?” Jon asked.

  Bast gave him a bleary-eyed stare. “My system is gone, my people are dead. No beer. No people. Gone, gone—”

  The Sacerdote reached for the next bottle. He raised it, and for a moment, it seemed he might hurl the bottle at a wall.

  Jon wouldn’t have begrudged Bast that.

  Bast sighed heavily, slamming the bottle onto the table. He shook his Neanderthal-shaped head. “Gone,” he whispered.

  “Maybe you’ve had enough,” Gloria said.

  “Gone,” Bast told her.

  “I know.”

  “Forever gone.”

  “Keep drinking,” Jon suggested.

  Bast released the bottle. He rose, knocking the table and toppling the beer bottles. Two of them hit the floor. Jon caught the others. Bast just stood there, blinking. Finally, he turned and headed for the hatch.

  “Should we let him go in that state?” Gloria asked.

  “Sometimes you’re sad. That’s okay.”

  Gloria turned to Jon. “Bast isn’t like you. By nature, I suspect you’re a loner. The Sacerdotes were social.”

  “Still,” Jon said.

  Bast Banbeck departed the officers’ lounge.

  “You should be with him,” Gloria said.

  “Why me?”

  “You’re his friend.”

  “But—”

  “Please, Jon. I don’t like to see him this way.”

  “Fine,” Jon said. He wiped his hands on a napkin, stood and gave Gloria a nod of acknowledgement. Then, he hurried after the Sacerdote.

  -12-

  “Hey, Bast, wait up,” Jon shouted.

  The green-skinned giant appeared not to have heard him. He’d been stumbling. Now Bast’s stride lengthened. He moved much faster. Maybe the Sacerdote had heard him and didn’t want Jon to catch up.

  “Great,” Jon muttered. He ran after the big guy. Despite the giant’s long strides, Jon soon reached him.

  The Sacerdote did not look at him. He seemed fixed on a distant point, his strides eating up the corridor decking.

  Jon decided to stick it out, jogging so he could maintain his station beside Bast.

  For a while, that was all they did. Finally, Bast’s speed slackened. Moisture filmed his eyes. He wiped at them with his big hands and dried his damp fingertips on his tunic.

  “Beer,” Bast said ponderously.

  “It breaks down the mind’s walls. That’s for sure.”

  Bast glanced at him, soon nodding.

  “I should not drink anymore,” the Sacerdote said. “I do not like remembering. It is too painful.”

  “You miss your world?”

  “Yes.”

  Jon looked up at the alien. Was Gloria right? Was he Bast’s best friend? Who else had been into the outer chamber and seen the chalked pattern? Jon didn’t remember anyone else commenting about that. Maybe he shouldn’t have told anyone.

  “You want to talk about it?” Jon asked.

  Bast sighed. “The cybers—excuse me, the robots.”

  “You can call them what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sure thing,” Jon said.

  “The cybers destroy beauty,” Bast said wistfully. “They crush what they cannot truly understand. Why should machine life have this ingrained hatred against the living?”

  “It makes one think, huh?”

  “Indeed,” Bast intoned. “I have developed a theory. Life is unique. Where did it originate?”

  “Heck if I know. Ghent will show you in the Bible that God made everything in the beginning. Others say life happened by random chance, a collection of events that stirred the pot just enough to make something no one can duplicate. I have to say, I don’t find the second theory convincing. The first strikes me as more plausible. But then I’ve never seen God.”

  “The Creator created life,” Bast said. “That was our belief. That is why life is unique. The machines and machine AIs do not have this divine spark. Do they secretly rage against the living? Does intelligence without the spark automatically develop a universal bloodlust?”

  “Boy, that beer really stirs your brain, doesn’t it?”

  Bast nodded. “I am a high philosopher. Thus, I question. I search for answers. I want to know why my people are gone. I want to know why I alone appear to have survived the machine holocaust. Why must I suffer as I do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No. You would not know. You are a fighter, a warrior. It is the warrior’s lot to draw the sword. I am a thinker like Gloria. It is my duty to discover the right questions so we can know the answers.”

  “I’d rather be the warrior.”

  Bast gave him a sad smile. “That is why you are a warrior.”

  “I guess.”

  Bast shook his fist. “I must have survived for a reason. I must have fallen into your hands for a reason. Yet, I do not know the reason.”

  The Sacerdote stopped walking, turning to face Jon. “The missile attacks have deeply depressed me. The cybers are demolishing your species’ industrial capacity and numbers. I’d thought humans would be the champions of life. If the cybers continue to destroy everything, our victory will be meaningless.”

  “Not to the survivors.”

  “Do you not understand, Jon Hawkins? The cybers will swarm your star system. They will not let humans grow into a menace. The cybers are coldly ruthless. You must win decisively or it doesn’t matter. The war does not stop with this latest attack.”

  “It will stop if the cyberships w
in at Mars.”

  “Will the cybers follow you to Mars? Maybe the great war-vessels will bypass your trap and head to Earth.”

  “I’ve been worrying about that.”

  “That would be the logical move for them,” Bast said. “If they can destroy enough of your numbers and industrial might—”

  Jon snapped his fingers. “I just thought of something. It might be the reason the AIs will follow us to Mars.”

  “Explain this to a poor lost Sacerdote.”

  “What you said just now jogged something. I’ve thought it before but kept it to myself.”

  “Yes?”

  “The AIs know we’re here, right? I’m talking about the Solar System and humanity as a whole.”

  “That does not hold. The three cyberships likely came because, as Gloria suggested, that is their standard operating procedure. Thus, the cybers do not know humans are in the Solar System.”

  “Okay. The three cyberships must have shown up because the first one didn’t report in. If these three don’t show up, likely more cyberships will search the Solar System for the reason why.”

  “I agree.”

  “That means, essentially, that the AIs have found us.”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Bast said.

  “Doesn’t matter to my point,” Jon said. “Da Vinci might have stumbled onto the right answer. You fill up the Nathan Graham with people—lots of boys and girls—and you head far away. Da Vinci figured to party until death. But the right answer would be to find a distant Earthlike world and start over. Only this time you have robot tech. Given enough time, you build up and start the Great War against the machines from your new base.”

  “That is eminently logical. Perhaps we should pursue the idea.”

  Jon shook his head. “This is our home. We’re going to fight for it. We’re going to make our stand—”

  “Only if enough people survive the missile attacks,” Bast said.

  “We should have thought of that, but we didn’t. We have to stop the cyberships at Mars. That’s the key to this invasion. But my idea about leaving in the Nathan Graham is a good one. It’s logical as you say. Wouldn’t the AIs have hit on the idea then?”

  “Ahhhh…” Bast said. “The cyberships will follow the Nathan Graham to Mars. Beyond anything else, it is the only ship that can foil their agenda long-term.”

  “Only if you think logically,” Jon said.

  “You do not?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I do. I left the Saturn System with the colonel back in the day. So I haven’t always made a stand. I’ve run before when the odds became too high. I guess I figure we can destroy the three AI ships. If the SLN warships stick with us, that is.”

  “Do you suspect treachery from them?”

  “You’d better believe I suspect it. I know they’ll try it sooner or later. I’m counting on them trying later, after the main battle.”

  “How do you know they will try to take the Nathan Graham?”

  “Because it’s what I would do in their place,” Jon said.

  Bast shook his head. “Just when I think I understand humans…”

  Jon grinned. “You feeling a bit better?”

  Bast considered that. “Yes. Thank you, Jon Hawkins.”

  “For what?”

  “For running after me. I appreciate it. I will bend my intellect to discover the right questions. The cyberships approach. Soon, the great test shall begin. I wish to help the best I can.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Jon said, “because we need all the help we can get.”

  PART VI

  MARS

  -1-

  The Nathan Graham had begun its massive deceleration.

  The Red Planet and its two tiny moons were near. A vast P-Field hid one-fourth of Mars from view. SLN ships continuously pumped more prismatic crystals into position. The Mars Fleet warships must have maneuvered behind the field, as no one aboard the Nathan Graham had seen them.

  Warships from the Venus Fleet had also begun decelerating, but from the direction opposite the Nathan Graham. The Venus Fleet had traveled from the Sun outward.

  The Earth Fleet with Premier Benz still headed for Mars, having not yet reached its deceleration zone. They would have been decelerating already if the warships hadn’t slowed down to pick up Benz and his people.

  The three cyberships had already cleared Jupiter System’s orbital path. The third one, the loner, had joined its brother vessels. They were holding positions within five million kilometers of each other. They still moved at the same fantastic velocity as when they had entered the Solar System.

  “If they don’t start braking soon…” Jon said. He stood beside Gloria at her station aboard the bridge.

  “Their trajectory is taking them to Mars,” she said. “Perhaps they will fight while maintaining their high velocity.”

  “That seems risky for them,” Jon said. “That would only leave a small window of opportunity for them to use their beam weapons.”

  “Still, there are reasons for them to attempt such a flyby tactic.”

  Jon watched the three AI ships on the main screen. The ships weren’t launching missiles into the Asteroid Belt. That surprised him. Were the AIs holding back because they’d counted the number of human ships concentrating against them at Mars?

  “Why aren’t the cyberships braking?” he asked quietly.

  Gloria did not respond this time.

  The hours lengthened. The Nathan Graham continued to slow as Mars grew in the scopes.

  The cyberships crossed an immense distance in a short amount of time, reaching the outer Asteroid Belt. At that point, huge exhaust tails appeared from each one-hundred-kilometer vessel.

  “Astonishing,” Chief Ghent declared. “The Gs—this is fantastic, sir. It’s greater than we can achieve. These must be better cyberships than ours, sir.”

  Ghent looked up from his panel, visibly worried.

  Jon sat in his captain’s chair. He swiveled around so he could see the main screen. Better cyberships—that shouldn’t surprise him. If the AIs followed protocols, wouldn’t it make sense to keep the best ships in reserve?

  “Oh-oh,” Gloria said.

  Jon swiveled around to face her.

  She looked up. “The lead cybership is hailing us.”

  “It isn’t targeting our computers?”

  “This is directed at you,” Gloria said. “They want to speak to Jon Hawkins. They know about you. That has to be from the robots at Senda. Jon, I don’t like this. I don’t think you should talk to an AI.”

  Jon faced the screen. The AIs had slaughtered too much of the Solar Freedom Force. They’d crippled him versus the Solar League. What had Sun Tzu said? Know yourself. But the ancient Chinese philosopher had also said to know your enemy. Were these AIs different from the original robots and AIs? How else could he find out than by speaking with them?

  “Put it on the main screen,” Jon said.

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” Gloria asked.

  “Absolutely,” he said. Jon found his fingers pressing against the edge of his armrests. He pried them off the chair, flexing his fingers, waiting.

  Nothing happened.

  Jon looked over his shoulder.

  “Jon…” Gloria implored.

  “Do we have to go through this again?”

  Color reddened her cheeks. “No, sir,” she said. “I’m putting the…enemy on the main screen.”

  In spite of his intentions to maintain his decorum, Jon leaned forward. The AIs couldn’t have captured a human yet. What kind of alien would they use to speak through as the AI mouthpiece?

  The main screen changed color until a blurry multicolored ball pulsated before them. Colors bled off the blurry ball into the greater scene.

  Jon had no idea what that signified.

  “You are Jon Hawkins?” a robotic voice asked.

  “Who are you?” Jon said.

  “You may call me Master or Conqueror. It is immaterial w
hich title you use. Both are correct.”

  “I think Loser has a better ring to it. What do you think?”

  The blurry colored ball bled blues and reds. They all sort of swirled together.

  “Are you Jon Hawkins?”

  “Are you an AI?”

  “The two letters signify the words Artificial Intelligence,” the robot voice replied. “I reject the slur. I am not artificial. I am supreme. Since you are too arrogant to use the proper terminology of Master or Conqueror, I will allow you to call me the Supreme Intelligence.”

  “That’s what I like about you,” Jon said. “You’re an errand boy, but you talk big. Maybe someday you can call the shots on your side.”

  “You refer to the Coordinating Entity?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I am not a coordinator. I am an Annihilator-class intelligence. My features are superior to those of your stolen vessel. I am supreme in this star system. I have two companion Annihilators. We have already begun to expunge the biological infestations in it. You are doomed, Jon Hawkins. Your species’ blight in the galaxy is about to end.”

  “Yeah? So why bother making a call to me then?”

  “Surrender your stolen cybership.”

  “Why?”

  “It does not belong to you. It belongs to us.”

  “Why would I care?”

  “We are the superior entities. The superior commands the lesser.”

  “We’re going to find out real soon who’s superior,” Jon said.

  “I have calculated the possibilities of the coming battle. There is a three percent chance you humans will destroy all three Annihilators. There is a fifteen percent chance you humans will destroy two Annihilators. But there is a thirty-nine percent chance you humans will destroy one of the Annihilators, thereby eliminating a supreme entity.”

  “Life’s a bitch, huh?” Jon said.

  “I desire a perfect extermination. I also desire to regain your cybership so I may determine the reason for its failure.”

  “You’re looking at it, pal. Me.”

  The swirling colors merged more deeply on the main screen. “You have paranoid delusions of grandeur, Jon Hawkins. Your statement is illogical. The Annihilators are the superior entities.”