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

  -6-

  On the morning of the sixth day, the Day of Departure according to Unit 52-9, Jon commanded the fighting platform from inside a dome on the center of the space-raft.

  The dome was large enough to hold five hundred people. Jon and Uther Kling—the cybership’s missile chief—sat in the control chamber. There were also half a dozen techs in different areas of the fighting platform. That was all the crew and passengers for today.

  Kling was from Camelot Dome on Triton in the Neptune System. He wore a skintight head covering and had a sharp chin like a red-tailed fox.

  Kling’s steady nerves were one of the reasons Jon had chosen him to man the fighting platform’s weapons systems. The other was Kling’s intimate knowledge of missiles.

  Jon sat at the piloting board. He guided the platform past one of MK2’s giant hangar bay doors. “Door” seemed like a misnomer in this instance. A vast section of the moon had swung ponderously outward. When both doors swung open, the one-hundred-kilometer Nathan Graham would be able to drift out of the hollow moon. Today, however, they only needed to open one moon-door.

  The fighting platform was a little over a kilometer wide and long. It was a vast square of construction that held hundreds of missiles and two big laser cannon systems.

  The platform had almost no hull armor except for the underbelly region. There, it had thick plating. Strictly speaking, the platform wasn’t a spaceship, although it could move in a slow, unwieldy manner. It was a semi-mobile weapons station or satellite. If all went according to plan, it would soon hover over Makemake from orbital space.

  In time, the fighting platform departed MK2. As it did, the moon door began ever so slowly to close. There was no sense giving the AIs an easy target. If they wanted to pound the Nathan Graham, they would have to destroy the moon first.

  “We’re heading for Makemake,” Jon declared.

  The dwarf planet was a mere 21,000 kilometers away, vastly closer than Luna was to Earth. Still, at this slow speed, the journey would take time.

  A half-hour after leaving MK2, Kling informed Jon of an incoming message.

  The captain manipulated the comm board. According to the panel, the message had originated on Makemake. The signal had left a tower four hundred and sixty-eight kilometers from the dwarf planet’s spaceport. The tower likely acted as a relay station. The spaceport was presently hidden from the platform, as it was on the dark side of Makemake in relation to them.

  Jon opened channels as he swiveled to look up at a screen. The same hairless captive with the rods through his head regarded him with blank eyes. Just like last time, the wires jiggled, the head twitched and the robotic words began to tumble out.

  “I have been observing your progress,” the speaking unit said.

  “Just a minute,” Jon said. “First, am I addressing Unit 52-9?”

  “You are an inferior life form. It is not fitting for you to query me.”

  “Shall I address the speaker unit then?”

  The eyelids flickered. “Yes. I am Unit 52-9. It is inconceivable that another should address you. I am the ruling AI. I make the decisions. I am displeased with you, Jon Hawkins.”

  “What for? I’m out of the moon.”

  “That is not the cybership.”

  “Oh. Say, you’re right. How about that?”

  “You opened a moon door. That was a correct action. The object you are on left the moon. That was also correct. The moon door closed afterward. That was incorrect. I demand an explanation.”

  “I’m coming out first with the raft to make sure you don’t attempt a sneak attack against the cybership.”

  “You are suspicious of duplicity?”

  “I am.”

  “That implies a duplicitous mind. That increases the probability that you are attempting a subterfuge maneuver against me.”

  “That you say so implies you’re a double-dealing piece of scum,” Jon said.

  “I am logical. I am superior. I am—”

  “An insufferable pain,” Jon said, interrupting.

  “Jon Hawkins, do you still desire a win-win solution between us?”

  “Like I told you before, I want win-win-win.”

  “That is illogical. There are two sides. Only two sides can win.”

  “Look,” Jon said. “I’m willing to talk all day with you if you like. First, though, I have to maneuver the platform into position.”

  “Your present course will bring you into Makemake orbit.”

  “If you say so,” Jon said.

  “I have scanned your platform. It carries a multitude of missiles and other weaponry.”

  “Like I said, bro, I’m here to make sure you don’t double-cross us.”

  The captive’s mouth twisted as if in pain. A tiny trickle of smoke curled from a rod driven into the left temple.

  That made Jon’s fingertips itchy. He wanted to stab controls that would send missiles curving around the dwarf planet and streaking down at Unit 52-9. He needed to get closer first.

  “I detect duplicity,” the speaker unit said, his voice higher-pitched than before. “You are attempting to set yourself into an attack position for a first-strike assault upon me.”

  “That never crossed my mind.”

  “I am detecting more duplicity. If you are lying now, you most probably were lying six days ago. You are filled with deceit, Jon Hawkins.”

  “At least I’m not a prick of an AI wiping out one unique race after another.”

  “Do you refer to my ultimate programming?”

  “You’re part of a death cult. I mean to exterminate that cult.”

  “I desire the production unit.”

  Jon grinned because it almost seemed as if Unit 52-9 was whining.

  “How badly do you want it?” Jon asked. “Will you give us several more days to get ready?”

  “I can no longer trust your word. Why have you forced me to this unsought action?”

  “Uh…maybe because I hate your freaking guts.”

  “Captain,” Kling said in a worried voice.

  “I gotta go, 52-9,” Jon said. “It looks like you’re breaking your word about giving us six days. Don’t ever call me a liar again, you lying son of a bitch.”

  Jon slapped a switch, breaking the connection.

  “Silos have thrust through the surface ice on Makemake,” Kling said. “They’re starting to open.”

  They’d launched sensor probes from MK2 several days ago. Two of those probes were in position to watch the spaceport. A different probe acted as a relay, bouncing the data to the fighting platform.

  “This thing has a lot of silos. Maybe…” Kling didn’t finish.

  Jon knew what the missile chief meant. Maybe he should have lied to the AI a little longer.

  “I wanted it to fire now,” Jon explained. “If we waited until we’re directly over the spaceport, it might have fired silos from our side of the dwarf planet. We wouldn’t be in position to knock them down as easily then.”

  “Better to destroy any missiles on or near the surface than in space, Captain.”

  “It doesn’t matter at this point,” said Jon, who watched a sensor screen. “You concentrate on getting your antimissiles into position. I’ll run the lasers.”

  -7-

  According to the sensor probe, large missiles lifted from Makemake. The bulk of them roared into space from a fifty-kilometer radius around the spaceport. A few more came from a one hundred and twenty-kilometer radius. No AI missiles rose from this side of the dwarf planet. That would seem to negate Jon’s worry in that regard.

  The missiles roared higher.

  “They’re heavily armored missiles,” Kling declared. “So far, though, they seem slower than normal cyber missiles.”

  “Robot,” Jon said.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  “I’m thinking of using a big thermonuclear missile to take a bunch out at a shot,” Kling said.

  “Launch it,” Jon said. />
  “I’ll launch three,” Kling said. “I can’t detect any cyber counter-batteries on the surface. But I bet they have some.”

  The platform’s dome chamber shook as one big missile after another roared from the giant space-raft.

  From his screen, Jon watched the progress of both sides. The AI missiles lifted from Makemake much faster than they would have from Earth. Makemake had a tiny fraction of the gravity pull of Earth. Thus, the AI missiles didn’t have to fight a deep gravity well to leave the planet. It was more like a gravity pond.

  “They’re chemically fueled rockets,” Kling said, as he studied his sensor board. “I don’t think these are hypervelocity missiles at all.”

  “Maybe these robots had less to work with,” Jon said. “Maybe only a handful has survived down there. If that’s true, I should have ordered the regiment down months ago to hunt them down.”

  Kling was watching his screen too avidly to comment.

  In space, the flotilla of AI missiles began to turn as they started curving around Makemake. The big counter-missiles headed toward the dwarf planet on an intercept course to meet them.

  The distances today were minimal compared to most space battles.

  “Look at that,” Kling said in dismay. “Where did they come from?”

  Jon saw it on his screen. From two separate locations, giant crawlers burst out of the surface ice. Each crawler was an eighth of a kilometer in size. Each began to open, revealing a huge radar-like dish. In each dish, a golden ball of gravitational energy sizzled into existence.

  “This is bad,” Jon muttered under his breath. “Detonate our missiles. Do it now.”

  “Not yet,” Kling said. “There’s no line-of-sight yet between our missiles and its. I need another thirty seconds.”

  A golden gravitational beam lanced upward from a crawler grav cannon. The beam lashed against the first counter missile, burning into it. In seconds, the missile burst apart, destroyed.

  Kling cursed aloud.

  “Jamming,” Jon said. “The AIs are jamming us from the crawlers. It’s too late for us to send a signal to our missiles.”

  The second gravitational beam slashed against the second counter missile, destroying it even faster.

  Jon made a swift calculation. The crawlers were at the bare limit of the dwarf planet’s horizon to see the fighting platform. To see another this closely in space was to be able to fire on them. The platform wouldn’t survive for long against enemy grav beams.

  “Hang on,” Jon said. He manipulated the flight panel. The platform’s engine roared. That caused vibrations throughout the platform, which caused the control chamber to shake and Kling’s teeth to clack against each other.

  “Captain!” Kling shouted, with fear in his voice.

  “I should have known it wouldn’t be this easy,” Jon berated himself. “The platform isn’t the Nathan Graham. I should planned for enemy eventualities more carefully.”

  The first grav cannon now targeted the final counter missile. The missile disintegrated shortly thereafter.

  “Come on, you bucket,” Jon told the platform. “Move!”

  The fighting platform had veered from its original course. The Gs of the turn, the roaring engine and the massive amount of expelled exhaust caused more shaking.

  As the platform maneuvered, the AI missiles gained velocity. They’d reached orbital height as they continued to curve around Makemake.

  “The grav cannons are targeting us, sir.”

  “I know,” Jon said between clenched teeth. He’d gotten sloppy. He’d figured the robots down there—Jon shook his head savagely. He slapped a switch. Both platform lasers had been warming up. They now targeted the nearest crawler.

  Powerful laser beams flashed, traveling the distance in seconds. They burned into the dish as another golden ball formed. The hot rays disrupted the process. Before the ball could form into a beam, it blew. The dish-like cannon and half of the crawler exploded, neutralizing the grav weapon.

  The second grav beam flashed at the fighting platform. The golden ray burned out a laser cannon. The ray slashed against the moving platform and abruptly stopped hitting, not from a lack of power, as the beam continued to flash into space, but because the platform had moved just beyond the crawler’s line-of-sight. Jon used the dwarf planet’s horizon to shield the unwieldy craft from the remaining grav beam.

  In the meantime, the AI missiles continued to accelerate as they adjusted course toward MK2.

  “Let’s try this again,” Jon said, as he throttled the space-raft’s engine way down. He swiveled in his seat, facing Kling. “Do you know what to do?”

  “I’m on it,” the missile chief said.

  The platform shook once more as three more large thermonuclear-tipped missiles launched from the raft. Two of them were under Kling’s personal guidance. Jon remote controlled the third.

  The AI missile flotilla headed directly for MK2. As the missiles left Makemake behind, they also left the final crawler’s grav-beam protection.

  Twenty-three second later, Kling touched a control.

  Jon immediately did likewise on his board.

  Kling’s first shape-charged warhead ignited. Jon’s warhead ignited fast enough that Kling’s nuclear explosion didn’t kill it before it could detonate. The third warhead did not ignite fast enough. It died under the nuclear furnace created by its two faster brothers.

  Heat, blast, shrapnel and EMP washed against the AI missiles. The billowing destruction took out 87 percent of them.

  Even though the warheads had been shape-charged, so the majority of the blast, heat and EMP blew in a forward arc, some still blew backward. In the other direction, the fighting platform withstood the blast and hard radiation. Fortunately, the dome had been built to withstand such intensity.

  Jon used the remaining laser cannon, burning the surviving AI missiles. Kling launched smaller, nonnuclear antimissiles, taking out one AI device after another. Finally, the last AI missile disintegrated under the combined-arms assault.

  In the chamber under the dome, the two men slouched where they sat. Kling used his sleeve to wipe sweat from his face. Jon smiled so hard that his mouth began to hurt.

  “I’m launching a probe,” Kling said.

  The AIs’ last crawler must have used its grav cannon to destroy all the human-launched probes it could see on its side of Makemake. They no longer had a visual of the spaceport or the enemy crawler.

  Minutes passed as the probe accelerated. It crossed the horizon so it could peer at the spaceport. It also showed the crawler’s cannon starting to move. No doubt, the giant crawler had spotted the probe and tracked it so it could fire.

  “Oh-oh,” Kling said. “Look on your screen, sir.”

  Jon blinked several times. The AIs were launching more missiles, big suckers, super-big missiles according to these specs.

  “The first wave must have been a fake,” Kling said. “The AI must have been testing us or drawing out our reactions. These missiles look like they could take out a moon. This is going to be harder, sir. They’re staggering the launchings.”

  “The AI is learning fast,” Jon said. “We have to take out Unit 52-9 now, before it learns too much.”

  -8-

  Jon and Uther Kling used the fighting platform like a sniper nest. Unit 52-9 might be learning some things, but in some key ways it still behaved like a mindless machine.

  The AIs couldn’t jam the fighting platform this time because the horizon, and thus the bulk of the dwarf planet, shielded them from any jamming stations.

  “It’s a good thing MK2 is on the other side of Makemake from the spaceport,” Kling said. “We’d lose this one any other way.”

  Jon nodded but didn’t feel like commenting. They weren’t going to defeat the AIs long term if they had to rely on luck.

  Just as the AIs couldn’t jam them, the crawler couldn’t target the platform. Not as long as they stayed on this side of the dwarf planet.

  Unit 52-9
could have tried other tactics. Jon would have in its place. This time, maybe because it was a new AI, because it hadn’t received whatever a new AI needed, it sent the heavier flotilla around the dwarf planet. As soon the heavy missiles were in line-of-sight of MK2, they veered away from Makemake and raced directly for the moon.

  Kling pressed a switch. The missile tech had sent a fast drone to the perfect location. The waiting nuclear warhead now took out a good chunk of the AI flotilla. Twice more in the next few minutes, nuclear warheads winnowed the remaining heavy missiles. Finally, Jon used the laser and Kling antimissiles to finish off the few survivors.

  After the last AI missile had exploded, Kling said, “I’m sending another probe to the other side.” The enemy crawler had destroyed the first probe.

  They watched the new probe from their screens. As soon as the probe crossed the horizon, the waiting crawler destroyed it, too.

  “Unit 52-9 must be pissed off,” Jon said. “It was waiting for a probe this time.”

  “Maybe the AI is frightened,” Kling said.

  Jon had Kling hold off from launching another probe. He first wanted to see if the AI would launch another missile salvo.

  After ninety minutes, Kling asked, “How long are we going to wait?”

  “Give it another thirty minutes,” Jon said.

  Thirty minutes ticked past.

  “Sir?” asked Kling.

  “It’s time for some old-fashioned trickery,” Jon said. He explained the tactic, having to explain several of the points two or three times, and finally grinned as Kling said he liked it.

  “Talk is cheap,” Jon said. “Whiskey costs money. I’ll give you the honors. You’re the pro at this.”

  “I appreciate that, sir.”

  Soon, Kling released five hypersonic missiles. Kling remote controlled each big bird to the other horizon. The hypersonic missiles had backed up, as it were, from the first horizon.

  “I’m ready,” Kling announced some time later.