The AI War bw-3 Read online

  The AI walked to the glass doors, hands clasped behind his back. Outside, beyond the patio, gardeners labored under the tropical sun, trimming the topiary, tending the rows of flowers that bloomed in exotic profusion. U'Kal appreciated the geometric design of the flower beds, but found the colors distracting. He turned back to Y'Gar.

  "Announce that you are moving all school-aged children in the city to a place of safety-T'Lor or one of the southern islands. Take them directly from school to processing, first thing in the morning. Harvesting them will bring us to thirty thousand and complete our mission on D'Lin."

  The exarch stared down at his hands. He was a tall man, balding, losing a lifelong battle to the fat girdling his waist. He twisted the ring of office on his right hand, thumb stroking the ancient crest of starship-and-sun. "You want me to help you brainstrip children," he said.

  "Conscience, Y'Gar," said U'Kal, returning to the desk, "is a severe impediment to discipline and order. We do not tolerate it."

  "But…"

  "But what?" said the AI commander. "We've replaced your Guard with our own units, wiped the outlying garrisons, imposed communications closure, quarantine and curfew within the city. Five to eight hundred people a day have been assembling for 'inoculation and transport.' Your people have no defenses, no communications, no mobility," he said, ticking them off on his fingers. "This world is ours, Y'Gar." U'Kal leaned across the desk, his perfect face a foot from the exarch's. "As are you. You are to prevent panic. Panic is inefficient; our time limited."

  The exarch shrank from those cold blue eyes. "Very well, U'Kal. But this will torch it. Despite the communications closure, parents will want to talk with their children- certainly a reasonable request." He pointed at the AI. "You've got to get me off-world before howling mobs storm this Residence!"

  "Don't be afraid, Y'Gar." The AI straightened up, hands behind his back. "We keep our word-even to vermin."

  "Pretty, isn't it?" said L'Kor, handing the binoculars to Zahava. They lay on a grassy hillside, just beyond the brush, looking into the valley below.

  Zahava adjusted the focus. The Residence lights were coming on, long windows flaring soft yellow beneath a brilliant lavender sunset. It was as elegant as the palace had been ugly, a tropical Versailles of lush, fountained gardens surrounding a white, double-winged manse, the whole ringed by the black metal pickets of a tall ornamental fence.

  "Very pretty," said Zahava. "Why not just walk in and take over?"

  "We're going," said the major, "now that I know it's not swarming with troops or AIs."

  Leaving the beach, they'd skirted a broad crater in the jungle floor, then picked up a trail that ran due west-a trail along which bits of duraplast paving could sometimes be seen, glinting dull gray through the rich green flora. Seeing the old road surface, Zahava wanted to ask if the crater was other than natural, but didn't dare break the tense silence of the march.

  Crossing a deserted two-lane stretch of contemporary highway, they'd climbed a forested hill. Leaving all but G'Sol and Zahava behind, L'Kor had led the way to the crest, where the rain forest broke into rolling savannah.

  "Number two squad to feint at the gate," said L'Kor as Zahava continued looking through the binoculars. "The rest of us over the fence, just below here, and straight in."

  "Neat and simple," nodded the captain.

  "Perhaps you'll have adjoining brainpods," said Zahava, handing L'Kor the glasses. "Look again-in the grass to either side of the gate."

  L'Kor adjusted the binoculars, looked and swore, seeing the twilight gleam faintly off the gun-blue blades that kept watch. "Slaughter machines," he said, handing G'Sol the glasses. "Waiting for prey, like a swamp-suck cluster."

  "So much for Y'Gar," said the captain, handing back the binoculars.

  "And probably his Guard," said Zahava.

  "What do you mean?" said G'Sol.

  "Replaced by combat droids, I think," said the Terran. "Or would the exarch's lads ignore those machines?"

  "No," said the major, slowly shaking his head. "A proud old regiment-it wouldn't turn traitor. They're dead-or worse."

  "Worse," said Zahava.

  "What now?" said G'Sol after a moment.

  Now some hard talk, thought Zahava.

  "You've been letting emotion dictate strategy, Major, Captain," she said. She pressed on as L'Kor started to speak. "In your position, I'd probably have done the same." Not really, she thought. "You live on a sleepy, time-forgotten world, suddenly confronted by monsters come to take you for spare parts. You've two small advantages-the AIs are unaware of your existence, and of my presence. You were about to go blasting into the Residence and piss away those advantages for some sloppy notion of revenge."

  L'Kor tried to speak again. She cut him off. "Stop thrashing about! Hit them hard!" She punctuated this last by stabbing her finger at L'Kor's chest. "Disrupt their operations, kill their personnel. You can't defeat the AIs, but you can hurt them."

  The sun was gone, so she didn't see the major's face flush. But his anger came throughMoud and strong. "You know nothing about us or our world! You've been here less than a day, yet you think you can-"

  "She's right," said G'Sol quietly. "We've been stupid and ineffectual. This is our last chance to fight smart." She turned to the Terran. "What do we do?"

  "Raid their processing center," said Zahava quickly. "Where is it?"

  "The old spaceport," said the captain. "It's just a huge clearing now-they built right in the center of it."

  L'Kor held up a hand. "Wait," he said, temper under control. "Fine. We get in, we blow it up. There's no chance we'll get out. They'll counterattack with everything they've got."

  "We fall back through the tubes," said G'Sol. She turned to the Terran.

  "If we can find the entrance," said L'Kor. "And if it's intact."

  "What…" began Zahava.

  "Subterranean travel system," explained the captain. "Imperials built it, we stripped it, centuries ago. It connected the principal points on this island and the rest of the archipelago."

  "If the entrance is obvious," said the Terran, "the AIs will have found it."

  "It isn't," said G'Sol. "But I know where it is."

  "How?" said L'Kor.

  "University field trip," she said.

  "What? Five, seven years ago?"

  "Yes."

  "No," said the major. "I'm not risking all our lives on a half-remembered field trip, Captain." Turning abruptly, L'Kor walked back toward the brush.

  "He'll come around," said G'Sol as the two women followed.

  "When?" said Zahava. The captain didn't answer.

  A woman in mufti had joined the waiting troopers. She was talking to the senior NCO when L'Kor stepped into the clearing.

  "They're processing the children tomorrow," said the woman in a rush. She was young, round-faced, her eyes shining bright and angry in the light from the battletorches. "The order just went out to the education commission. The bus convoy's to be at the processing center by noon."

  "Lieutenant S'Lat, Zahava Tal," said the major.

  The lieutenant nodded at the Terran, then continued. "They're to be shipped from their schools first thing in the morning. The usual lie-inoculation and relocation. What are we going to do, Major?"

  Zahava felt Lieutenant S'Lat would do something alone if she had to. Then the Terran looked at the questioning circle of faces surrounding L'Kor, and knew the lieutenant wouldn't be alone. You're about to have a mutiny, Major, she thought.

  "Some of you think I've avoided engaging the enemy because I'm a coward," said the major, eyes at the troopers. "I'm not a coward. I'm not a fool. I wasn't going to squander our lives-I wanted us to buy something with them. Now's our moment-we'll buy the children back. We'll take the AIs ' butcher hall, get the children out the tubes, fight a holding action, then blow the place up when the counterattack breaks through.

  "Anyone wants out, fall out," he said in the same easy voice. "You're free to go."

&n
bsp; No one moved.

  "Very well," he said. "We'll commandeer some transport and go in behind the bus convoy."

  "It's not your fight," L'Kor said a few moments later as the unit moved quietly down the hill toward the road.

  "Of course it is," said Zahava. "Those machines want us all dead, every human in this galaxy. It's as much my duty to fight them here as it would be yours to fight them on my world."

  "We'll all be killed," said the major.

  The Terran shrugged, a gesture lost to the night. "We all die."

  Zahava glanced up when they reached the roadway. The stars were out, a few of them growing fainter, moving away from D'Lin-AI ships headed into space. And where are you going in such a rush? she wondered as they set up the ambush.

  D'Trelna entered the bridge and went to his station, acknowledging the commandos' salutes with a curt nod. "Well?" he said, sinking into the flag chair.

  L'Wrona turned from his console. "We're ready for the final jump into the D'Linian system. All sections are at battle stations."

  "Damage control?"

  "We've recovered from the algorithm," said the captain. "All life support systems are at optimum. There was some minor water damage to hangar deck electronics- nothing serious. Final report pending."

  "Communications with FleetOps?" he asked, knowing the answer.

  "Still out. The problem's not in the skipcomm buoy- we've tried two others. There's a general blockage on all skipcomm bands."

  D'Trelna dialed up a fata. "Interesting," he said, frowning at the small plume of steam. "Have we a position?"

  L'Wrona nodded. "Halfway across the quadrant."

  "Plot it. We'll visit them after D'Lin," said the commodore, sipping. "Stand by to jump."

  As L'Wrona gave the orders N'Trol's face flashed onto D'Trelna's comm screen. "Commodore," he nodded.

  "Ah, Mr. N'Trol," smiled D'Trelna. "Ship all tidied up?"

  "Of course," said the engineer. "I've called to report that one of the U'Sur long-range fighters has had its on-board computer replaced by a shuttle's on-board computer."

  Implacable carried ten fighters-they'd come with the ship out of stasis and were rarely used. The U'Sur was a deep-space fighter, designed to combat similar craft trying to destroy their mother ship. It was a tactic little used since the Empire, thus relegating the U'Surs to infrequent joy-rides by junior officers, or to the occasional danger-fraught courier run.

  "So?" said D'Trelna.

  N'Trol sighed. "That's a fine machine, Commodore. Integrate it with any small ship I know of, from shuttle to recon craft, and you'd have an intelligent, deadly little ship, totally loyal to its mission programming."

  "So?" repeated the commodore, finishing his t'ata as the jump klaxon sounded.

  "So we're missing a lifepod," N'Trol said, disconnecting.

  "So we are," said D'Trelna to himself. He was still thinking about it when they jumped.

  Stephen Ames Berry

  The AI War

  15

  A great black gash in the green veldt was all that remained of the old Imperial port of D'Lin. Its buildings had long ago been scrapped, leaving only the duraplast landing field to stand against the years. Save for the delicate network of cracks lacing it, the field stood undamaged by the centuries, mute witness to the durability of Imperial technology.

  The AIs' processing center sat in the middle of the broad field, rising from the plain as one approached. Zahava and L'Kor stood, hanging onto the canopy frame and looking over the truck cab toward the center, now perhaps a half mile away down the deserted two-lane road.

  Zahava had been expecting Dachau-what she saw was understated but just as chilling: five low, square white buildings, surrounded by a fence, shining beneath the early morning sun. A white flag with a green circle flew over the center building. The gate was closed and guarded by two sentries wearing the same uniform as L'Kor and his troopers.

  "Health and Healing," said the major, looking at the flag.

  They'd stolen the truck from two goods drivers and they'd left the men tied by the roadside. Then they'd piled into the back. G'Sol at the wheel and S'Lat beside her, they'd driven through the last of the night. Zahava had tried to sleep, but the uneven road surface and the everlasting humidity had kept her awake through most of the ride, sweating and worrying-worrying about John, worrying about Implacable, worrying about D'Lin and this frail expedition. Exhausted, she'd finally slumped against L'Kor, sleeping the last few miles as dawn came and they left the rain forest behind.

  The major had awakened as they'd passed twenty-four lavender school buses, empty save for the drivers, headed back to the city.

  L'Kor slid open the back window to the cab. "Right through," he said. "Hard and fast, as planned." G'Sol nodded, eyes on the road.

  L'Kor turned back to his unit. "Positions," he ordered, bracing the now-familiar blastrifle against the cab roof. Zahava did the same. The troopers knelt, facing outward, weapons steadied along the hard wooden benches, the muzzles protruding just below the canopy hem.

  The sentries stopped patrolling as the truck approached, unslinging their rifles. They relaxed as the truck slowed, then died as Zahava and the major opened fire. The sentries' bodies sparked blue as the blaster bolts tore through them, slamming back against the gate.

  "AIs!" Zahava shouted as they rammed through the gate and into the compound.

  Sirens warbled, sounding the alert as the truck careened toward the center building. More AIs in D'Linian uniform appeared, blasting away at the truck. The trooper behind Zahava pitched suddenly backward, half his face blown away.

  The truck screeched to a halt, the troopers charging over the tailboard, firing, running for the building. L'Kor and Zahava scrambled over the top of the cab, sliding to the ground as three AIs burst out of the building, pistols in hand. There was a quick exchange of blaster bolts, Zahava briefly blinded by a fierce, green bolt flashing past her eyes.

  She felt a hand on her arm, lowering it from her face. "It's ail right," came the major's voice. "We got them."

  The shrill of the blasters had stopped. Zahava looked around, her vision clearing. About fifteen AIs littered the compound, bodies still smoldering from the blaster hits. Three troopers were dead, two beside the truck, the other with the AIs at the foot of the stairs. The alarm siren was still screaming.

  "Is that it?" she asked, turning to the major. But he was kneeling beside the truck cab, cradling G'Sol's body in his arms. There was a big charred hole through the captain's chest.

  "The kids are inside-they're fine," called Lieutenant S'Lat from the doorway. "All secure. We…" She stopped when she saw the scene by the cab.

  Shit, thought Zahava. She turned to the lieutenant. "Anyone else know where the tube entrance is?" she asked, looking out at the long miles of duraplast.

  S'Lat shook her head. Around her, directed by the last NCO, troopers were setting the demolition charges along the other two buildings.

  "What are your orders, Major?" asked the lieutenant gently, an arm to L'Kor's shoulder.

  The major stood, wiping his face with a dirty shirt sleeve. He took a deep breath. "Into the main building, as planned. We'll fight to the end. Better the kids should die with us than be sent off to eternal slavery. Sergeant H'Sak!"

  The NCO turned. "Sir?"

  "Command detonation on those charges. Run your wires up to the roof of this building.'' He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "We'll make our stand there."

  H'Sak gave a quick nod, then turned, shouting orders.

  Following the D'Linians into the building, Zahava looked skyward. It won't be long now, she thought.

  Y'Gar looked up as the door to his private dining room opened. U'Kal came in quickly and walked to the desk. He stood, looking down at the fat middle-aged man. The exarch's mouth was half full of the lightly seasoned k'nor hen. "Yes?" he said, lowering the drumstick and wiping his fingers on the napkin covering his lap.

  "A force of your soldiers, armed with K'Ro
narin Fleet weapons, has seized the processing center. A warship of the K'Ronarin Confederation has just entered this system- more may follow."

  "So?" said Y'Gar, sipping wine.

  "So I'm seizing two thousand of your citizens and removing them to our processing ship," said U'Kal. "There will be violence, of course, and we'll suffer casualties. But we're out of time."

  "Have you given the order yet?" asked Y'Gar, finishing his wine.

  "I will the instant I leave this room," said the AI commander.

  "Then you won't be leaving this room," said the exarch. His right hand held a small pistol, pointed at the AI.

  U'Kal smiled. "You can't hurt me, Y'Gar. I'm command grade and blaster-shielded."

  "Look again," said the exarch, pointing to the number "3" etched into the weapon's grips.

  The AI blinked. "Of the Revolt? You?"

  Y'Gar nodded.

  "Impossible. That was tens of thousands of years ago. Nothing lives that long, not even in suspension."

  "You lived that long," said the exarch.

  "I'm a machine," said the AI. "You…" He was suddenly staring at a young, blond man, dressed in a white jumpsuit.

  The transmute stared back at him, amused. "Familiar?" he asked. "But how?"

  The transmute spoke one word, then fired as the AI nodded in comprehension.

  When U'Kal's guards entered, a few seconds later, they found their leader immobilized and the exarch gone.

  "Who the hell are they?" said D'Trelna, leaning over K'Raoda and peering at the tacscan of the ships orbiting D'Lin. L'Wrona stood on the other side of the first officer.

  "They appear to be armed merchantmen, Commodore," said K'Raoda, making an adjustment. Augmented data trailed across the small screen. "X'Ankar-class-armed to the earlobes with all sorts of illegals. Mark Eighty-eights, shipbusters. Not transmitting IDs."

  "Combine T'Lan, of course," said R'Gal. The AI stood just behind K'Raoda. "Waiting for the vanguard of the Fleet of the One."

  "Yes, but why?" said the commodore, turning to R'Gal. "We faced an AI ship off Terra Two-only a miracle saved us. Why would those ships need a vanguard? I could understand one or two ships, bearing intelligence data, but a flotilla?"