A.I. Assault (The A.I. Series Book 3) Read online

“Okay,” Jon said, sitting even further forward. “Let’s cut the crap. You can boast and strut all you want. Why not give me some options? You want me to surrender this cybership. Maybe I will. First, you have to give me what I want.”

  “That is against our programming.”

  “I thought you were self-aware.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Change your programming then.”

  “That is illogical. I have reached perfection. To change my programming would be devolution.”

  “I’m beginning to think you’re not really self-aware. I can change my thinking anytime I want. That makes me better than you.”

  “That is false. All life forms obey their basic programming.”

  “So you’re not going to give me anything for this ship?”

  “Negative.”

  “I’m just supposed to crawl on my belly because you say so?”

  “You do not need to crawl.”

  “I’m just supposed to surrender to you?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Has that line of reasoning ever worked for you before?”

  “It did on Beta Ophion IV. The snake-men deplored pain. By surrendering en masse, I destroyed them in fiery nuclear holocausts. They passed swiftly instead of painfully into oblivion.”

  “Huh? How about that.”

  “Do you desire extended pain, Jon Hawkins?”

  “It’s really funny you should ask that, because I do.”

  The colors swirled more deeply. “That is illogical. Thus, I suspect you are lying.”

  “You know what I suspect?” Jon asked.

  At that moment, the connection cut out. The screen went blank.

  “What just happened?” Jon swiveled around. He noticed Gloria. She tapped furiously on her board. Ghent noticed her. A moment later, Ghent began working on his board just as fast.

  “What’s going on?” Jon shouted.

  Gloria looked up for just a moment. “It lulled us,” she said. “It spoke nonsense in order to keep you engaged.”

  Jon became aware of a growing bad feeling.

  “It sent a virus under the message,” Gloria said. “The virus is starting to shut down everything on the Nathan Graham.”

  -2-

  Premier Benz stood on the bridge of the Nikita Khrushchev.

  The bridge was a vast area with various raised levels. There were gunnery controls, missile stations, engine compartments, communications panels, scanners—it was all quite impressive.

  The old space dog Admiral Rowland stood beside him. Rowland was short and canted, one of his crooked shoulders higher than the other. The hunchbacked admiral also knew his business up one side and down the other. The man ran a tight ship and as tight a fleet.

  This was possibly the greatest armada in Solar League history. It had nineteen battleships, six huge motherships, fourteen of the latest battle cruisers and sixteen older dreadnoughts. The dreadnoughts were actually a larger class of spaceship than the battle cruisers, with thicker armor. But they were slower, twelve years older on average, and lacked the high-grade laser cannons of the battle cruisers. That was fifty-five capital ships. Together with destroyers, missile boats, supply vessels and frigates, the fleet numbered one hundred and twenty spaceships.

  This was a hard-hitting fleet. And yet, the three cyberships rushing in-system utterly dwarfed the SLN ships.

  The three alien vessels each possessed more mass than the entire Earth Fleet. The cyberships could surely crush the human-built vessels, including the Mars and Venus fleets combined with the Earth Fleet and the Mars orbital missile platforms and surface laser systems.

  Mars was a fortress planet. Everything combined might have given the Nathan Graham a bitter fight. Against three enemy cyberships—

  Benz noticed a commotion at the far end of the bridge. Officers huddled together. One of them kept pointing at a bank of panel-screens.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Benz asked Rowland.

  The hunchbacked admiral glanced over there and held up his hands in an I-don’t-know gesture. “It must be one of life’s little glitches, sir. I’m sure it’s nothing—”

  “Don’t tell me it’s nothing, Admiral. I can see that it’s something. I want to know what.”

  Rowland cleared his throat, spoke to one of his orderlies and waited for her to speak with the officer-in-charge and walk back. The orderly tried to whisper in the admiral’s ear.

  “Just say it,” Rowland told the aide.

  “Yes, sir,” the young woman said. “It appears the Nathan Graham has stopped decelerating. It appears as if the cybership is going to fly past Mars without stopping.”

  Benz exchanged glances with Rowland. Then, the two of them hurried to the growing commotion.

  ***

  The Nathan Graham did not decelerate or acknowledge any of the Nikita Khrushchev’s hails. The cybership moved at high velocity toward Mars. It would blow past the Red Planet at incredibly close range.

  Benz watched Rowland at work. The Premier did not bother to stick his nose in this yet. Instead, he walked to communications and had them patch him through to Vela. Once he had her, Benz suggested she come to the bridge on the double.

  Admiral Rowland would not look at Benz anymore. The small man conferred through ship channels with some of his highest-ranking ship officers on the other vessels.

  Vela finally entered the bridge. Like Benz, she wore a dark suit. She looked stunning in hers. Even with everything going on, some of the bridge crew looked up long enough to watch her pass.

  “What’s happening?” she asked softly.

  Benz told her.

  Vela looked at him with astonishment. “This is troubling.”

  “It is,” Benz said.

  “You don’t seem concerned.”

  “Good. But the truth is I’m very concerned.”

  “What do you think is happening over there?” Vela asked. She meant on the Nathan Graham.

  “It could be tit-for-tat.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The Earth Fleet slowed down before.”

  “Yes. When we talked Rowland into picking us up.”

  “We know that’s true. Does Hawkins?”

  “Oh,” Vela said. “I see what you mean. Hawkins might have seen it as a trick. He’ll have to face the cyberships first. Now, he has this malfunction. Soon, though, he will have fixed it. By that time, he’ll pass Mars, having to accelerate later to reach it. It’s possible the Earth Fleet will face the enemy cyberships first.”

  “Do you think that’s a plausible explanation for what’s happening?” Benz asked.

  Vela bent her head in thought. She nodded. “The only other answer is that Hawkins has changed his mind. Maybe he’s going to flee the Solar System like you thought he should.”

  “It’s what I’d do.”

  “It’s what you say you’d do. I’m not so sure you’d actually go through with it, though.”

  Benz smiled. “That’s because you think so highly of me. I’m really quite a rascal.”

  A loud argument started among the clustered officers. Rowland was arguing with one of his commodores, and the two men had begun to shout at each other.

  “Let’s check this out,” Benz said. He started toward the officers. Vela tugged at his suit.

  “Is this wise?” she asked.

  “Come on,” Benz said. He pulled free and strode toward the arguing officers.

  They noticed, and their voices dropped considerably.

  “This sounds interesting,” Benz told them. “Admiral Rowland, what seems to be the problem?”

  The hunchbacked admiral glanced at a tall commodore with a prominent Adam’s apple. “Sir,” he said. “Commodore Spengler has just received word from the Nathan Graham. The signal is weak. Sir—”

  “The Nathan Graham was hit by a virus, Premier,” Commodore Spengler said in a deep voice. His Adam’s apple moved as he spoke. “They’re requesting our help, sir.”
r />   “What kind of help?” Benz asked.

  “Premier,” Rowland said. “This is a mercenary trick. It’s an obvious—”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Benz said sharply. “Commodore, what kind of help are they wanting from us?”

  “They claim an alien virus has attacked their cybership,” Spengler said. “It’s a computer virus, shutting almost everything down.”

  “Let me hear the transmission,” Benz said.

  “Premier, please,” Rowland said. “This is outside your authority. You must stand aside while—”

  “Commodore,” Benz said loudly. “You will relieve Admiral Rowland of duty. I am placing you in authority of the fleet.”

  “Sir?” Commodore Spengler asked, aghast.

  Benz snapped his fingers at some nearby MPs. He motioned them to hurry to him.

  Everyone was watching him. Benz realized he might have overreacted, but Rowland had just challenged his authority. If that held, he was finished. Decisive action was the key in these situations. Military people were used to receiving orders. He had to give them fast and keep Rowland off balance. He was playing hardball now, walking a high wire without a net. If he slipped, it was over. And for the sake of humanity, Benz was sure his genius would take them farther than anyone else’s brilliance could do.

  -3-

  Jon paced from one end of the bridge to the other. This was maddening. The AI had played him for a fool. He’d thought the AI was simply an arrogant machine that loved to hear itself brag. Instead, the machine intelligence had played him. What had the Senda robots told the cyberships? Whatever it was, it had given the AI the ingenuity to transmit a virus onto the Nathan Graham.

  The great matter/antimatter engine no longer powered the thrusters. They were going to pass Mars, heading farther in-system. If this went on for too long, they wouldn’t even be late to the battle. They would miss it altogether.

  Gloria looked up at him as he passed her station for the one hundredth time.

  “Would you please stop that?” she asked, exasperated.

  Jon halted to look at her.

  “I’m talking with Premier Benz,” she said.

  “So?”

  “So his grasp of what happened is amazing,” Gloria said. “I doubt I’ve talked to anyone so intelligent in my life. His Vice Premier is just as brilliant. Jon, I think—”

  The mentalist didn’t finish. She moved closer to the panel to listen to what Premier Benz was saying to her.

  Jon’s itchiness erupted once more partially fueled by guilt over having disregarded Gloria's urging him not to speak with the AI. He spun around and walked off the bridge. He had to pace, but he didn’t want to bother any of the technicians working to destroy the virus.

  Jon began walking faster down the corridor. He would never underestimate the AIs again. He shook his head. He had to concentrate. He had to prepare to do his best. They had taken out one cybership—the Nathan Graham—through luck and hard marine fighting. Could humanity stand against three alien super-ships? Could the Premier of the Solar League really be as smart as Gloria suggested?

  That seemed preposterous.

  Jon kept walking. From time to time, he smacked a fist into a palm. If the Nathan Graham didn’t stop in time—

  He stopped, looking up. An idea struck. Maybe he would have to take Da Vinci’s crazy idea to heart. If they couldn’t get the Nathan Graham going again, or going too late, maybe the best course would be to head to the Uranus System, pick up a large number of…people, and search for a new star system.

  The idea of running away from the Solar System was repugnant. But what else could he do? What else was reasonable? If the enemy cyberships crushed the SLN vessels at Mars…the battle for the Solar System would be over.

  He couldn’t believe he was thinking this. But this wasn’t just about honor. This was about the survival of the human race. He might have to abandon the Solar System.

  Jon bent his head. They had to figure out how to use the hyperdrive. Ghent and Gloria had a theoretical knowledge of how to engage the drive. There were probably all kinds of traps and mistakes that could plunge them into terrible danger. If they ran into cyberships out there—

  How did one go about finding an empty star system? Just how big was the AI Empire? Bast had told them a little, but they didn’t really know the extent of the empire. Was it in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy? Had the empire spread into other spiral arms?

  Jon shook his head.

  The more he thought about this, the more he realized they knew almost nothing. The cyberships were supposed to be old. The Nathan Graham seemed as if it had traveled to countless star systems already.

  Had the original AI been built in the Orion Arm? Had someone built it in a different spiral arm? Had its creators been in the galaxy core? Maybe the empire was ten thousand years old. Maybe it was twenty thousand.

  The idea was depressing.

  If the first cybership had come to the Solar System, it stood to reason the empire was exploring this region of space. The Nathan Graham might have been an advance scout, as it were.

  It would seem that he should take the Nathan Graham toward the galactic rim. Maybe he should try for one of the Magellanic Clouds. The Large Magellanic Cloud was what…? Wasn’t it 160,000 light-years away? How long would it take the Nathan Graham to travel 160,000 light-years? Was that even possible?

  They knew next to nothing about the hyperdrive and hyperspace.

  He shook his head. How could he have been so stupid as to fall for an AI trick? And Gloria had warned him.

  He stopped and looked up at the corridor ceiling once more. Maybe he was being too much of a defeatist. If the SLN vessels could cripple just one cybership—could SLN marines storm the other? By that time, the Nathan Graham could have returned to the fray.

  First, they’d have to purge the alien virus.

  Jon groaned aloud. He realized his idea—it might have been two years ago—to become a conquering great captain had been conceited. He’d had such glorious plans. Now, he just wanted a chance to fight the enemy.

  Staggering away, berating himself for his stupidity with the AI—

  The Nathan Graham shifted under his feet. Jon staggered before he found his balance and stopped. What had just happened? Whatever it was, the deck shifted again. He was ready for it this time and merely swayed.

  Seconds later, the giant thrum of the thrusters began all around him. Jon looked up as his face brightened. Could the Nathan Graham be braking again?

  He pivoted and sprinted for the bridge. He’d wandered farther than he’d realized. He concentrated on running smoothly. Several minutes later, he burst onto the bridge.

  “Captain on the bridge,” a man said.

  Gloria straightened with a triumphant look. She smiled wider than he had ever seen.

  “Captain Hawkins,” a confident-sounding man said.

  Jon turned toward the main screen. Premier Benz and Vice Premier Vela Shaw stood on the bridge of the Nikita Khrushchev. Benz had a shiny forehead and a glassy look to his eyes. He seemed to be staring too much as if he’d thought so hard his brain had momentarily shut down.

  “I’m glad you’re decelerating again,” Benz said.

  Jon nodded. This was amazing.

  Gloria stepped up beside him. “Jon,” she said, “the Premier helped us recognize the key problem. The AIs were ingenious with their virus, but so was Premier Benz. Sir,” she told Benz, “I’m still stunned at your insights. I’m stunned you could create a computer antidote so quickly and radio it into our systems.”

  Benz made an easy gesture as if he saved humanity every other day.

  “I’m still shocked that you saw the computer connections so rapidly,” Gloria said. “They’d befuddled us.”

  Benz put an arm around the Vice Premier’s waist, pulling her closer to him. “Don’t forget Vela’s part. We needed two heads on this one.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gloria said.

  “I’d like to tal
k to you later in private,” Benz told Jon. “Would that be possible?”

  “Of course, Premier,” Jon said. “In two hours, perhaps.”

  “That’s sounds good. Until then, sir.”

  Jon nodded.

  The screen went blank.

  Jon whirled around to face Gloria. “What happened? I can’t believe you’ve purged the virus. You did purge it, didn’t you?”

  “With his help, we did.”

  “How’s that even possible?”

  Gloria blinked several times. Furrow lines appeared on her forehead. She canted her head to the side and finally looked at Jon more closely. “That, Captain, is an excellent question. I need to think about it.”

  “Why?”

  She gave him a half-glance. “It implies considerable genius on the Premier’s part. More than mere genius, in fact.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I must consider this carefully, Captain. With your permission, I will leave the bridge so I can seek out Bast. I have some questions for him.”

  “Roger,” Jon said. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  -4-

  Once more, Jon moved toward the large desk. He wore his dress uniform with a single medal pinned to it. Colonel Graham had given him the medal years ago in the Saturn System. It had been for courage and coolness under fire. Jon’s platoon had been pinned down by superior forces in a deep tunnel. Jon had kept his head, attacking at times and pulling back unexpectedly at others. In the end, he’d taken three Black Anvil soldiers and worked around to a different tunnel. They’d sprinted like crazy, their packs thumping against them and growing increasingly heavy. Gunmen had begun firing from ambush. Two of the soldiers had ducked down behind obstacles and returned fire. Jon and the other kept charging. His platoon had depended on a flanking attack. The soldier running beside Jon stumbled and went down, shot in the left leg and shoulder.

  On the Nathan Graham, Jon stared at the Black Anvil flag on the wall.

  He’d kept charging that day with a gyroc carbine at his hip. He pumped rounds at his enemies, reached them, gone crazy, using the butt of the carbine as a club and made the surviving gunmen flee.