A.I. Assault (The A.I. Series Book 3) Page 26

  The AI missiles proved deadly effective. The one drawback was the number. Too many of the alien missiles had already been expended. They destroyed human vessels and took out many more surface laser sites, but they didn’t get everything.

  A few battleships, motherships and more dreadnoughts survived from the Venus and Mars fleets. Many of those ships had half-dead crews, but they could still maneuver.

  The last AI missile perished under a hail of spaceborne laser beams.

  Presumably, the cyberships had expended the last of their missiles. That just left the cyberships themselves, three monster vessels.

  Two of them went left. The other went to the right around Mars.

  That was the information Admiral Rowland and Captain Hawkins had been waiting for. Together, Earth Fleet ships, the remnants of the Venus and Mars fleets and the Nathan Graham, headed around the planet for the lone cybership attempting to bracket them.

  ***

  Jon muttered darkly as he stood before the main screen. Masses of SLN vessels led the way around Mars. He hated the idea of trusting the Social Dynamists like this. They could be deploying space marines onto the hull of his vessel for after the battle.

  He hurried back to his command chair and clicked on a comm. “Centurion,” he said.

  “Here, sir,” the Centurion answered.

  “Are your teams in place?”

  “The hull is seeded with sensors,” the Centurion said. “I have three battalions ready to deploy. If robots or SLN marines board us, we’ll hit them soon after they breach.”

  It was an old dilemma. Did one put all his marines near the hull to throw out invaders as soon as they breached? Or did one hold reserves back so he could hit an enemy concentration with a concentration of one’s own. Both he and the Centurion believed in the reserve theory. Given the Nathan Graham’s vast size, though, that meant several strategic reserves instead of just one.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to boarding battles,” Jon said.

  “Boots on the ground,” the Centurion replied.

  Jon clicked off the comm. The Centurion had just reminded him with the remark that they should have taken more men onto the great vessel and trained them as marines. There had been so much to do back then, though.

  “We’re coming around the planet, sir,” Ghent said.

  Jon walked toward the main screen. SLN battleships led the way. Dreadnoughts flanked the Nathan Graham. Battle cruisers swung wider, staying away from Mars’ orbital space. Motherships hung back. Soon, their space fighters would deploy.

  The plan was simple on both sides. The AIs couldn’t be that stupid. They must know what the “biological infestations” were going to do: hit the weaker concentration of cyberships. Logically, that cybership had one chore, to hold on until the other two cyberships swung around. At that point, the AIs would have surrounded the human vessels.

  Jon had studied many ancient battles that took this approach. The AIs might win. The humans—how could they truly win?

  We have to win decisively for it to count. He doubted that was possible against the cyberships.

  “It’s happening,” Gloria said.

  Jon turned. He hadn’t heard her approach.

  “The AIs have murdered a third to half of the Martian population already,” he said. “How can we do this? How can we defeat such death machines?”

  “The answer lies in the question,” Gloria told him. “They are death machines. To live, we must destroy them. We humans must become the catalyst that goes on the offensive against the galactic menace. This is the hour, Jon.”

  “I like you,” Jon said.

  She smiled even as she blushed.

  “Have I ever thanked you for all the tremendous work you’ve done?” he asked.

  “Is that what you’re doing now?”

  He stepped closer and took her hands in his. “It sure is. I’m glad I met you, Gloria. I remember the first time I saw you. You happened to be in a big old battlesuit.”

  “I remember.”

  He nodded and squeezed her hands. Was this a promise of things to come? He wasn’t sure. He released her hands and took a deep breath.

  “The lead battleships have spotted the cybership,” Ghent said. “It’s beginning.”

  “It’s clobbering time,” Jon muttered.

  -13-

  SLN battleships pounded the monstrous enemy vessel. The battleships were the pride of the Solar League, big one-kilometer-long warships. They had powerful lasers and launched what humans had considered to be large missiles. But measured against the one-hundred-kilometer AI vessel, the battleships were akin to fleas, their bites little more than annoying.

  As the first battleships went on the assault, more kept arriving. They also directed laser-fire against the alien enemy. The lasers lit up the giant cybership. They even burned the hull armor, putting small blisters here and there.

  Alien gravitational beams flashed back. Each beam targeted a different battleship.

  Aboard SLN Battleship Mikhail Gorbachev, the process proved rather straightforward. A grav beam hit the hull armor like a sledge, rocking the entire vessel. Immediately, the golden beam burrowed into the hull armor. Flakes, molten globules and metallic steam boiled into space. The grav beam dug fast and hard, drilling deeper and deeper until the alien ray breached into the living quarters. Bulkheads blew away. It hardly seemed fair. The beam punched through armory sections, food storage, repair—it halted for a moment against the interior engine’s heavy armor. That hardly lasted any time at all, though. At that point, the beam roared against the fusion engine that gave the Mikhail Gorbachev its power. Instead of a roar, life ended aboard the SLN battleship with a whimper. Power stopped, the ship atmosphere fled through the rupture and poison gas and radiation struck hundreds.

  Even so, the grav-beam destruction had taken time. In that time, the dreadnoughts moved forward, adding their laser batteries to the assault against the cybership’s thick outer hull. Battle cruisers rushed in. No one could doubt the SLN humans’ courage. Space fighters zoomed toward the fight like microscopic organisms. Did they think to rush through hull breaches and fly inside the monstrous ship?

  At the same time, the alien vessel murdered SLN ships one vessel after another. It was sickening.

  Then, the Nathan Graham entered the fray. Its matter/antimatter engine gave it massive power. That power flowed through helixes and other amplifiers into its own grav cannons and heavy laser batteries. Those weapons systems poured their beams against its mighty sister ship.

  “Now!” Jon shouted from the captain’s chair. “Now we’re doing it.”

  The alien cybership quit firing its grav beams at the fleas around it. Instead, the guiding AI retargeted. The grav beams struck out against the Nathan Graham.

  At this point, strategy and tactics were high-blown concepts outside the truth of trading heavy blows. Two giants slugged it out as fleas added their spit to the fight.

  And yet…and yet…the fleas’ spit had bite. The captains aboard the SLN vessels were cunning fighters. As soon as the Nathan Graham punched through the alien hull armor, the captains on the SLN vessels targeted their lasers to burn through there. Missiles took off at acceleration, aiming at hull ruptures.

  The giants traded blows, but the Nathan Graham had struck first between them. The laser blisters had weakened the alien hull armor in places. The added lasers from the swarm of human ships began to tip the scale between the giants. The missiles hitting home helped even more.

  At the same time, enemy grav beams clawed through the Nathan Graham’s armor. Damage so carefully repaired in MK2 blackened and blasted apart once more.

  Damage reports reached Jon. He winced upon hearing about the sudden death of nineteen techs. He quailed for the marines in their battlesuits. They were nearer the hull, closer to the raging grav beams while wandering the corridors of the Nathan Graham.

  On the alien cybership, it was worse, much, much worse. The arrogant AI had miscalculated. Too
many of the human ships had survived the winnowing missile assaults. The human ships were supposed to have remained behind the P-Field. Everything would have gone differently then.

  The AI recalculated even as it directed its wondrous beams. These humans were unlike previous terminations. These humans with their missiles detonating inside the cybership, the lasers damaging superior systems—this was outrageous. It was maddening. The supreme entity had made the wrong choice. Fewer of these biological infestations were to have survived.

  The effects proved cumulative and—Danger! Danger! There is danger!

  The guiding AI realized that several matter/antimatter missiles rushed toward it. The AI retargeted, only to discover that those grav dishes had melted into junk. It pulled off other grav beams.

  That meant that they were no longer striking the enemy cybership

  Danger! There is danger!

  One grav cannon took out an approaching giant missile. Another grav beam did the same thing.

  The third missile entered a gaping breach. It barreled deeper into the wondrous ship built two thousand, three hundred and fourteen years ago in the Ophion System. Nineteen races had died under its annihilating rays. To fall before these apish humans—

  A mighty matter/antimatter detonation in the guts of the cybership ended this portion of the battle. The great ship from the stellar deeps blew apart. It was spectacular. Hull plating flew off. Other debris followed.

  The AI died, but it caused the deaths of many of the maddening human vessels.

  The matter/antimatter shockwave slew the great brain core. At the same time, more SLN warships blew apart from the terrible wreckage of the cybership than from the vessel’s grav cannons.

  Then, the fight was over. One-third of the combined Venus, Earth and Mars’ fleet that had entered this phase of the battle were gone. That meant, however, that two-thirds of that combination yet survived.

  The Nathan Graham had taken damage, serious damage. It was still fully functional, although it had lost the use of one fourth of its weapons systems.

  “Decelerate,” Jon shouted on the bridge. Damage reports flooded in. He couldn’t worry about them now. “We have to set up for the last two cyberships.”

  Ghent and Kling shot him glances. Gloria hung her head.

  They had won this round. But how could they beat two other behemoths? And if they could destroy two more giant machines, they would have nothing left. Their careers as independent agents would be at an end once the next cyberships showed up.

  Jon shook his head. He couldn’t worry about that now. He had drawn the sword and killed. Now, he wanted to kill again.

  -14-

  Benz sat back in shock. He looked up at Bast Banbeck. He peered at the complex formula on the computer screen and shook his head.

  “But that’s marvelous,” Benz said. “That’s sheer genius. I don’t understand how you intuitively saw those last seven variables.”

  Bast chuckled. “It is an easy thing to understand. Not that I saw it, but the reason there are seven.”

  “Can you explain that to me?” Benz asked.

  “Certainly,” the Sacerdote said. “In my chamber is the Pattern of Paz. That is our name for the Creator. I moved through seven levels yesterday. Today, I have seen seven critical variables. Can there be any doubt concerning the number?”

  Benz and Vela traded glances. “I suppose not…” the Premier said.

  “Perhaps the reason I saw the variables does not matter,” the Sacerdote said. “Can you convince your war leader to use our ploy?”

  “That could be a problem. But there’s no time like the present,” Benz said.

  Benz climbed to his feet. He patted the alien’s broad back in passing. The Sacerdote impressed him. Theirs must have been a remarkable society. He wondered about the Neanderthal-like features. Did that have any significance? He wouldn’t want to bet against it.

  Benz sat in a chair, rubbed his eyes and pressed the switch. The screen came alive, and a warrant officer turned to him. The woman looked exhausted.

  “I must speak to Admiral Rowland at once,” Benz said.

  The warrant officer glanced at somebody. A moment later, she regarded Benz, saying, “He’s busy, sir.”

  “Damn it,” Benz said. “This is important. It can win the battle, possibly the war.”

  She shook her head.

  “I insist—”

  The screen went blank.

  Benz sat there dumbfounded. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “We have the answer. But no one is listening.”

  He jumped up a second later.

  “What are you planning?” Vela asked in a worried voice.

  “You already know,” Benz said. He strode toward the hatch.

  “You can’t,” Vela said.

  Benz didn’t answer. He opened the hatch. MPs whirled around. “I have to see the Admiral.”

  “No, sir,” an MP said. “You’re headed for the brig now.”

  “You fool!” Benz shouted.

  An MP grabbed him, beginning to haul Benz away. The hatch shut and a mighty roar sounded from inside the chamber.

  The MP holding Benz’s arm glanced at his companion. That MP drew a gun.

  The hatch swished open again and Bast Banbeck charged out. The MPs stared at the alien giant in shock. The unengaged one aimed—

  Benz kicked that MP in the shin. The man howled. Benz did it a second time. At that point, Bast Banbeck slapped the MP, sending the man slamming against the nearest bulkhead.

  The other one let go of Benz. “Stop,” he said, aiming at the giant.

  Benz grabbed the MP from behind, using a judo move, flipping him. The man slammed onto the deck. The gun went skittering across the corridor.

  Vela ran to the weapon, picking it up. “Ready?” she asked.

  Benz regarded his fallen MP. “You’re taking us to the bridge.”

  “No,” the MP said.

  Bast Banbeck hauled the MP to his feet and twisted an arm behind the Terran’s back. The MP cried out in pain and lifted up onto his toes.

  “Which way is the bridge?” Benz asked.

  The MP raised a trembling arm, pointing down the corridor.

  “Let’s go,” Benz told the Sacerdote.

  ***

  They didn’t make it far. Marines in battlesuits stopped them. Two marines fingered their big guns speculatively as they aimed at the Sacerdote.

  Vela must have perceived their intentions, as she stood before the alien giant.

  “We need to speak to Admiral Rowland,” Benz said. “I have the secret to stopping the AIs.”

  The marines conferred among themselves. “Let’s take him to the lieutenant,” a corporal said.

  As the SLN warships and the Nathan Graham maneuvered to meet the remaining cyberships, the battlesuited marines brought their semi-prisoners to the lieutenant.

  A big armored faceplate whirred open. “Premier Benz,” the lieutenant asked. “What are you doing out here?”

  Benz was an excellent judge of character. He saw genuine surprise on the lieutenant’s open features. It occurred to the Premier that perhaps Rowland hadn’t even told everyone on his own ship that he’d had the Premier of the Solar League locked in the brig. That might look bad in more ways than one.

  “Lieutenant,” Benz said. “There is a plot underfoot. I believe the admiral might be in danger.”

  “Sir,” a corporal told the lieutenant. “We have orders—”

  “Shut up, Corporal,” the lieutenant said. “The Premier is talking.”

  The marines who had captured them traded glances with each other. Benz could see the wheels turning in their minds. What had Rowland promised some of them?

  “I have victory right here,” Benz said, tapping his forehead. “And I have victory right there,” he added, pointing at the Sacerdote.

  “I don’t understand,” the lieutenant said.

  “We have developed a virus to make the alien AIs pause.”

  “P
ause, sir?”

  “Have a brain fart, if that makes more sense.”

  One of the marines laughed. The lieutenant didn’t. Maybe he didn’t like the word fart. Maybe he was surprised that the Premier had put it that way.

  “If the aliens pause,” Benz said, “that means they might stop firing for thirty seconds or maybe several minutes. And do you know what that means?”

  “What is that, sir?” the lieutenant asked.

  “It means we can destroy them while they’re foggy. We’ll turn their technique against them.”

  “What technique?” the lieutenant asked.

  “It will be a mental judo move,” Benz said.

  “Oh,” the lieutenant said. “You’re sure about this?”

  “One hundred percent,” Benz said.

  “Then let’s go,” the lieutenant said.

  “But sir—” the corporal said.

  “Shut up and fall in line, Corporal,” the lieutenant said. “That’s an order.”

  The corporal glanced around and finally nodded.

  The enlarged group now started for the bridge.

  -15-

  Benz stood on the bridge surrounded by marines with weapons, all kinds and sizes of weapons, pointed at him. Some of the marines wore battlesuits; some just had uniforms. There was plenty of tension, plenty of anger and the possibility that marines would gun him down, and Vela, and most certainly the giant Sacerdote.

  “Wait,” Admiral Rowland said.

  The small crooked admiral moved toward Benz. “You didn’t stay put,” he admonished.

  “We can win,” Benz said. “More than that, we can grab the cyberships if we move fast enough.”

  Rowland scowled. He was a master of the frowning art.

  “We have marines in place to capture the cyberships,” Benz said, pushing his argument to the hilt.

  Rowland looked around. He must have seen everyone watching him. He must have seen their worry over facing the murderous machines, two of them this time instead of just the one. He must have also seen the hope that Benz and the green-skinned alien could hand them victory instead of their coming annihilation.