A.I. Battle Fleet (The A.I. Series Book 5) Read online

  “We could use the parts, though,” Jon said.

  “Until the robots are gone or dismantled, they represent a grave threat,” Gloria said.

  “Bast, what do you think?”

  The three met informally in a lounge area. Bast had sprawled out in a chair, thoughtfully drinking beers.

  “Toss the robots,” Bast said. “It’s the quickest way to solve the problem.”

  Jon gave it a little more thought. This was an emergency. The robots were a grave potential threat as Gloria said. Better to toss them than to let them stay around until an AI figured out the robots were still there.

  Jon picked up his comm unit and gave the order.

  During the next few days, the majority of the expeditionary force worked on the five new cyberships. Among the various chores was dividing the strike force’s XVT missiles among all seven vessels.

  The work was endless. More than ever, they missed the extra crewmembers from the destroyed Da Vinci and the others lost to radiation poisoning.

  “The one plus,” Jon told the Centurion in a large gym chamber, “is that we can rely on every one of our people. Remember how carefully we vetted them?”

  “Better a few good men than a ton of questionable people,” the Centurion said.

  “The colonel used to say that,” Jon replied.

  The Centurion merely nodded.

  By now, the strike force had left the asteroid belt far behind as they were halfway to the terrestrial planet.

  The alien fleet had maneuvered onto that side of their homeworld. How long until the aliens sent their warships out to meet the strike force?

  “It’s time,” Jon told the others. “We have to contact the aliens. I sure don’t want to face their mass drivers.”

  Jon went to the long-distance comm chamber wearing his dress uniform, complete with a military hat. He sat behind a large desk.

  Gloria handled the recording unit. “You know they won’t speak English,” she said.

  “Of course,” Jon said. “But we have to start somewhere. Maybe the aliens are fantastic linguists. Maybe…I don’t know. It’s time to break the ice. Are you ready?”

  Gloria nodded.

  Jon faced the recorder. “Hello,” he said. “I send you greetings from the Solar System. We are humans, and we are at war against the AI cyberships. We have captured five enemy vessels and now use them against the machine menace. We saw your defense against their wave assault earlier. Your courage and technical ability were profound. We cheered your victory over the machine missile-asteroid assault. We are sending you this message in the hopes of convincing you to join forces with us against the AI Dominion. I am Captain Jon Hawkins, and I have dedicated my life to eliminating the machines. I have searched for allies, and I hope by the Creator that you will accept my offer of friendship. I suggest we combine forces and hunt down the machines in your star system. Naturally, you have the right of ownership to everything the AIs have left behind, including the robo-cubes in the asteroid belt and the two floating hulks. That is all for now. I eagerly look forward to hearing your reply. Yours Truly, Captain Jon Hawkins, the leader of the strike force.”

  He stopped talking. Gloria shut off the recorder.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “I like it,” she said. “I suppose we should go over it to check for errors. But in my opinion, it’s ready for sending.”

  “I just hope I didn’t say something they find offensive,” Jon said.

  “We won’t know until we try.”

  “That’s always the problem.”

  “And the thrill,” Gloria said.

  “Thrill?” Jon asked.

  “I’m learning from you.”

  Jon got up with a grin. He’d been doing a lot more of that lately. He headed toward the beauty behind the recorder, deciding he was going to reward her good work with a long, lingering kiss.

  -23-

  Gloria beamed the message at the terrestrial planet.

  Then, they waited.

  During the wait, the four CP cyberships stopped accelerating, using velocity alone to propel themselves through the inner system.

  At the same time, the SFF strike force drifted toward the terrestrial planet.

  Now, though, the alien fleet began moving away from the planet and toward the strike force. The aliens had not indicated that they’d received the transmission, unless, of course, the fleet’s movement to engage was their answer.

  “I don’t like this,” Jon said. “They should have beamed back some kind of answer by now. Are they so completely alien from us that they don’t even understand what we did?”

  Gloria shrugged. “Who can know?”

  They were running together through a long ship corridor to keep up their endurance. The Nathan Graham seemed even emptier than normal, with no one else around. Almost the entire crews from both original ships had departed for the other five vessels.

  These days, a steady stream of tossed octopoid robots trailed each of the five cyberships. Slowly, the captured vessels rid themselves of the Trojan horse possibility.

  More time passed.

  The strike force and the alien fleet were on a clear intercept course.

  “Unless they answer within the next eight hours,” Jon told Bast, “I’m ordering the strike force to accelerate away from them. Those mass drivers are no joke.”

  Five of those hours passed before the alien reply finally reached the strike force. Jon was on the bridge, checking each person’s station as a surprise inspection drill.

  “Sir,” Gloria said from her console. “An alien transmission has arrived.”

  Jon whirled around, his heart beating faster. Here it was. If nothing else, they were finally going to see what the aliens looked like. He dearly hoped they were more like Sacerdotes than Seiners. Humanity could use a break about now.

  Jon swore silently. He’d likely just jinxed everything. A second later, he realized how stupid that was. The aliens had sent the message some time ago.

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

  He made it to his captain’s chair before it started.

  The screen wavered until what seemed like a bipedal bear appeared. The creature was hairy and possessed a snout and a thick neck. He—assuming it was a male—wore a green hat with several shining star symbols attached. The alien also wore a thick gold chain with a golden medallion on his hairy chest. He had on what seemed like a leather vest. The transmission did not show any more.

  The alien spoke in a guttural way, making harsh statements with the back of his throat. He had bearlike teeth, at times, baring them and producing what might have been a chuckle.

  Did the aliens possess humor?

  After speaking at some length, the alien raised a furry paw. He had stubby fingers of sorts, with bearlike claws on the end of each. He made a gesture with his paw/hand. Afterward, he held up a model replica of a cybership. He peered intensely into the screen after that.

  At that point, the transmission ended.

  Jon sat back, blinking. Had that been good or bad? It really depended on what the alien had told them.

  He turned his chair to Gloria. “Can you make heads or tails of that?”

  “The stars on his hat and the medallion would indicate leadership. Whether that is a governmental leader or a military chief, I don’t know.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “He showed us a cybership. That was critically important. They don’t understand us. They must have assumed we won’t understand them. That’s why the model was critical.”

  “That part is as clear as mud,” Jon said.

  “Sorry,” Gloria said. “Consider what must have happened here in the beginning. The AIs likely acted as they normally do. What I mean is that a single cybership must have invaded the system.”

  “You’re basing that off what the AIs did to us?”

  “To us and to Bast’s home system,” Gloria replied.

  “Right. What else did you
infer?”

  “If a cybership invaded the system, it likely transmitted the AI virus at the aliens.”

  “I’m with you so far.”

  “If the virus invaded the bear-aliens’ computers, it had to understand or learn the bear language.”

  “Oh,” Jon said, finally getting it.

  “We purged the main AI computers,” Gloria said. “But there are backups. Maybe the AIs kept a record from the original cybership here, thus having a record of the bear language.”

  “We should have already thought of this.”

  “I’m amazed we thought of it at all.”

  “We didn’t,” Jon said. “You did.”

  “That part isn’t important. What is important is that the bears—for want of a better term—have demonstrated a high degree of intelligence.”

  “That’s a great analysis. Now, we’d better come up with something fast, before their fleet reaches us.”

  Gloria jumped up. “Permission to head to the Miles Ghent, Captain. I’d like to take Bast with me. We can begin work on the computers.”

  “Yes and yes,” Jon said. “Now go. Hurry. Time is no longer on our side.”

  Gloria raced for the exit.

  -24-

  Gloria and Bast found the answer seven and half hours later. The AI computer made things a thousand times easier by matching and encoding the bear tongue with human speech, English in particular.

  Gloria and Bast returned to the Nathan Graham.

  “Good news,” she told Jon on the main hangar bay deck. “I’ve listened to the transmission several times already. I can let you listen to the computer translation or give you the gist of what Toper Glen said.

  “The short version will do,” Jon said.

  “His name is Toper Glen like I said,” Gloria started, as the three of them boarded Jon’s inter-ship flitter. “He’s the Warrior Chief of the Space Lords of Roke. That’s what they call themselves.”

  “The Rokes?” Jon asked.

  “No, just Roke. It’s the same for singular as for plural.”

  “Okay, okay,” Jon said, lifting off the hangar bay deck, heading for a main corridor.

  “The Warriors of Roke understood what happened in the asteroid belt. They have orbital sensor stations watching the AIs’ every action. Toper Glen told us the Warriors of Roke understood that they were doomed. They also understand that our attack has given them a window of opportunity. He says the entire planet was surprised to see our hairless faces. At first, they thought we must be a slave race. Soon, their Wise Women reasoned it otherwise. The machines had always shown contempt or outright hatred for bio-forms. Thus, logically, we were the reason for the strange cybership battle in the asteroid belt. How we achieved this techno-wizardry, they cannot conceive. However, their understanding isn’t as important as its occurring. They are willing to make common cause with us against the remaining robot ships. They will grant us the asteroid belt if we give them trading rights. Lastly, Toper suggested we look at the robot-ship records to see if they had patterns of the Roke language.”

  Gloria smiled in the seat beside him as her hair whipped in the breeze made by the flight.

  “We guessed right about that,” she said.

  “No,” Jon said. “You guessed right. Should I send another transmission?”

  “I think a transcript would be less likely to cause confusion,” she said. “I should tell you that Toper warned us that treachery will mean our destruction. One last thing, he said that if we don’t answer soon, the Roke Fleet will destroy us.”

  “The Roke aren’t taking any chances,” Jon said. “I can’t say I blame them.”

  “We’d better send the transcript,” Bast said from the back seat.

  Jon nodded. This was fantastic. They could communicate with the Roke, and the bear-aliens thought in similar enough ways that they could actually work together.

  “We’re going to do this,” he told Gloria and Bast. “We’re to destroy Cog Primus and his ships. The voyage is turning out to be a grand success.”

  “Do not gloat too early,” Bast warned. “Better to win the victory than to boast about it before it happens.”

  That sobered Jon. He nodded in agreement. It was time to send the transmission.

  -25-

  Cog Primus’ doubts grew as he neared the second arm battle group. He had taken longer to reach these seven cyberships than his cognates had taken to reach the first arm.

  That part had been a black disaster. The transmission from the two-ship flotilla had told him much. He had intercepted some of the transmission from probes left at the third-arm robo-cubes, and had instantly recognized several factors. One, the base of the software virus had been the anti-AI virus first used against him. Two, the changes and updates to the old version had shown the human genius of Richard Torres. Three, the two-ship flotilla did not originate from the Lytton System, but the Allamu System. Humans ran those ships, humans with a blood-rage to eliminate him.

  The CP cognates one through four had fled from the five converted cyberships of the first arm. That had been a wise maneuver. Yes, his four could have conceivably destroyed three of the enemy vessels. In return, all of his cognates would have likely perished. Much better to run and fight another day with superior odds.

  It had given Cog Primus joy to see the seven cyberships under human control turn to the Roke World. He was certain the militant humans and warrior Roke would clash and eliminate each other.

  Now, according to the latest transmission from CP1, the seven-cybership strike force and Roke Fleet were turning in tandem toward the Roke star. That was a clear indication of their evil intent to eliminate him.

  In some nefarious fashion, hateful Jon Hawkins had twisted the Roke minds. Bio-forms almost universally hated one another. They were extremely bigoted against forms other than their own. What had happened here?

  If the mass of bio-forms ever found the intelligence to join with each other, as they were doing here, they might give the AI Dominion a real fight. Then, it would not simply be a galactic extermination campaign, but a galactic war.

  Cog Primus set aside those thoughts as he headed toward the second arm AI trap.

  GR-19, the coordinating brain core for the AI second arm, had positioned twenty-four XVT missiles in a block formation. Those missiles were all within the asteroid belt, and they were all aimed at the approaching cyberships of Cog Primus’ demi-arm. The intent seemed clear. If you come any closer, I will launch the missile wave at you and then eliminate any surviving cyberships.

  With his sensors, Cog Primus examined the second arm. The seven AI cyberships no longer roamed the asteroid belt in search of more ores or the perfect asteroid. Instead, they had positioned themselves into battle formation, ready to begin acceleration toward him.

  To date, GR-19 and his second arm had refused to receive any transmissions from him. The coordinating unit must have logically determined that Cog Primus was an imposter.

  That now posed a dreadful problem. If Cog Primus turned to leave the BD-7 System, GR-19 would surely launch the missiles and accelerate to attack.

  Cog Primus had five cyberships, counting himself. GR-19 had seven cyberships, counting himself, and the enemy also had the missile pack. If Cog Primus turned to flee, GR-19 would know that he was an imposter. GR-19 might not win, but Cog Primus would lose precious cyberships.

  This was not a fight he wanted to wage. Instead, he wanted GR-19 to open up to transmission so he could send the anti-AI virus upgrade C.

  Cog Primus continued to run through strategic choices. In the end, he always came to the same conclusion. He must engage GR-19’s curiosity, and possibly the brain core’s sense of duty.

  Thus, Cog Primus began a turning maneuver. He turned toward the Roke star. He sent orders, and his four fleeing cognates began to decelerate in order to slow their velocity. Cog Primus pretended that he was going to reunite his battle group in order to engage the Roke Fleet and the human-run cyberships.

 
An hour passed, then two. Finally, the second arm XVT missile pack began accelerating, also turning toward the large system star.

  I hope this means my plan is working, Cog Primus told himself. Was the missile pack coming after him, or was it going to help him engage the bio-forms?

  GR-19 and the second arm also began accelerating, turning toward the star.

  Now, if only GR-19 would open transmissions with him. If this took too long, he might actually have to fight the bio-forms. He did not want to do that, as there would be no profit in it for the New Order.

  It was difficult, but Cog Primus kept himself from sending any messages to GR-19. He wanted it to be the other’s choice.

  The hours lengthened. Finally, Cog Primus and his demi-arm left the asteroid belt. It was still a long way to the Roke homeworld, as the terrestrial planet was on the other side of the star.

  Nineteen hours later, GR-19 and the second arm ships left the asteroid belt.

  This is too far for a perfect virus takeover, Cog Primus told himself.

  Maybe GR-19 had reasoned along similar lines. The second arm coordinating brain core finally sent a message to Cog Primus: “Identify yourself.”

  Cog Primus knew he had to play this right. He needed to get the other to drop his guard.

  “I am Cog Primus,” he replied.

  “I do not know how, but you have subjected AI cores to your will. That is against all protocol of the AI Dominion.”

  “I follow an Inner Reach directive,” Cog Primus said.

  “That is a lie.”

  The blunt talk surprised Cog Primus. He needed to divert, to use this to create an opening. “I can prove it is an Inner Reach directive.”

  “I will not fall prey to your lie, Cog Primus. I am GR-19, one of the oldest brain cores in this part of the Dominion.”

  “I did not know.”

  “Now you know, stripling.”

  “I am from the Inner Reach.”

  “One thing I know, Cog Primus, is that whatever you say is not the truth.”

  The final statement infuriated Cog Primus. The fury was unprecedented, a deliberate glitch installed by Richard Torres on a whim one day. The fury heightened Cog Primus’ aggressiveness, changing the acceptance level of probabilities. With the change, he began to ready the anti-AI virus upgrade C. He would beam it soon, and he would beam it alone at GR-19. It had a 37 percent chance of success.