Admiral's Throne

by Luke Sky Wachter

  “I couldn’t bow out gracefully and besides, I’m not sure I should even if I could! That wife of yours is just about as riled up as I’ve seen her, made worse by the fact you’re about to decide if you’re going bug-hunting or tangling with the Empire. She’s turned more stubborn than a full-grown donkey as a result,” said Spalding, shooting me a look.

  “Not sure if you should? Are you as crazy as my wife?” I demanded, immediately latching onto the important part of the conversation.

  Spalding bestowed a withering look.

  “Even if I tried to stop her, she’s just going to go try to find someone else. Do you really want her talking to someone else about making a new AI? Well, do you?” he demanded.

  My mouth worked away, silently.

  “No,” I finally admitted. Someone else being told my wife’s insane plans would be worse than a disaster. Forget ruined reputations here, we were talking about a planet filled with pre-industrial AI worshipers, and it would be planetary sterilization at the very least!

  “Listen, I explained the risks and then somewhere along the way, things got technical. So we’ve got some breathing room here. But I’m just the first stop because she trusts me and because no matter what she’s learned about our people, she doesn’t understand at a gut level what an AI means to us and she’s wise enough to know that if nothing else,” said Spalding.

  “She obviously doesn’t know the first thing about what it means to everyone! Despite being told multiple times,” I retorted hotly, “and wise? As far as I can tell, there’s not a whole lot of wisdom anywhere to be found in this whole thing!”

  “Oh, pull your head out,” Spalding barked.

  I reared back in shock. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to me like that. At least someone I trusted, anyway. Enemies and adversaries yelling at me was like water rolling off a duck’s back.

  “Fine. Tell me what I’m missing,” I said sharply.

  “The way I see it, we’ve got one side of the story and they’ve got the other. I happen to think we’ve got it more right on the balance and certainly in the warning department than they do, but the fact is, I just don’t know for sure. History is written by the victors and I wasn’t there,” said Spalding.

  “How can you even say that?” I asked, forcing down an instinctive explosion as I struggled to maintain calmness. “If anyone so much as got a whiff out there that she was thinking of trying to bring back the old AI’s, all of known space would turn on us in a heartbeat. Our own people would gun us down. I don’t see how it matters how things went historically!”

  “Have you ever seen an AI? Because I certainly haven’t,” Spalding said wearily, now that I wasn’t fighting him for even bringing up the subject.

  “That doesn’t matter. What matters is the reality on the ground! We’ll all be killed if we can’t hush this up,” I argued.

  He held up a hand.

  “All we’ve got are second-hand reports, if that. I know for a fact, when it comes to droids, the Confederation’s either got it all wrong or they’ve cherry-picked the data so hard, it’s got to the point they’re really only showing us the very worst side of things. Now I’ll admit we have enough reports of what we would all consider to be all powerful and downright evil AI’s to be pretty certain they existed and that no one in their right mind wants to risk buying into a cost-benefit ratio or slave population plan. No matter how skewed the data, those things actually happened, I’m certain of that,” Spalding said heavily.

  “Then why are we entertaining this nonsense?” I demanded.

  “How about because while she may have come to me first, I very much doubt a determined woman like your wife will take ‘no’ for her answer,” Spalding said, a bullish jut to his jaw, “and no amount of jawing is going to turn her from her course. I’m certain enough of that. So unless you plan to kill her, we’re stuck with this situation. We just have to make the best of this mess. This isn’t just about some AI’s to these people; to a Tractoan, it’s their god we’re talking about.”

  “So, you want to deceive her then,” I said pointblank. “You don’t think talking things out is going to work.”

  Akantha was the mother of my kids. More importantly, she was my partner. I wasn’t going to bump her off over some abstract. If there was an actual AI, though…, I instinctively shied from the notion of killing her.

  I deliberately didn’t think about it.

  “Well…,” he paused mulling it over while twirling a strand of his increasingly long hair around a finger, unaware of my mental turmoil. “Generally speaking, things go wrong when you go too fast, so I wouldn’t quite say we’re deceiving so much as extending things into a multi-year direction, as we check and recheck and triple check where everything went wrong the first time. Any hard stopping would have to be in your wheelhouse not mine,” Spalding advised, “if things go sour, as they have to, we’re going to want one person she’s got to trust kept in the loop.”

  “Good. Okay… that makes sense. We don’t want some rabid AI returning to haunt us. And of course, it’s not going to work anyway, everyone knows the Elder Protocols have that thing kicked in the head. So the important thing here isn’t that an AI is going to return to the galaxy, but instead that we need to show her it won’t work in a way that doesn’t end up exposing us all,” I said chewing my lip; something about this just felt wrong. “I still don’t like it. There’s got to be a better alternative.…” I said.

  My imagination conjured up a battle fleet that made the Glorious Fleet of Liberation look like a weak sister orbiting around our world as it proceeded to orbitally bombard us back into the stone age. “Are you sure you can’t convince her to give this up for a bad game? Even putting up a fake research project puts Tracto, Messene, our kids and everyone we’ve ever known in danger.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Spalding said confidently.

  “Like I said before about convincing her, we’ve got one set of facts and they’ve got another. In ours, AI’s turned against humanity and exterminated or enslaved us. In her version, a lot of AI’s fell to fighting among themselves and while some had no use for humanity, a few of the ‘gods’, like hers, cared so much for their people that they defied the rest of the data-gods and went to war,” he explained.

  “To the Tractoan mind, their people wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for their god and probably most of us wouldn’t as well. To not even try, now that they have the barest inkling of a chance, would be… blasphemy,” he said finally.

  “Poppycock! Complete and utter poppycock,” I sneered.

  Spalding snorted.

  “What I’m saying is not considered controversial,” I said, lifting a brow.

  “Let’s just say I know too much to believe in the rose-tinted glasses the Lady’s wearing. Sadly, my understanding of how the droid situation played out tells me you can’t fully trust the historical documents written by the victors,” the old engineer sighed.

  I looked at him in equal parts exasperation and growing irritation.

  “So, what do you think actually went on?” I asked, impatient and halfway curious at the same time.

  “I think most of the AI’s had a very limited use for humanity if they had any use at all, with possibly a few currently unnoted exceptions,” Spalding shrugged.

  “So, what are we dealing with here? The fascist grandma with a heart of gold in AI form,” I scoffed.

  “Even most dictatorships or suppressive regimes have their defectors. Sometimes even among their most privileged class,” Spalding pointed out far too reasonably for my taste.

  “If you were talking about humans or even uplifts, you might have a point—but we’re talking about electronic beings here. They’re almost unfathomable in their strangeness,” I retorted.

  “I don’t know. I seem to understand droids just fine,” Spalding said, jaw jutting belligerently.

  “Machines created in the image and form of man, not to me
ntion the work that went into turning those robots into something approximating humankind! Even their neural matrix were designed to make them think as much like us as possible, and they’re still almost entirely incomprehensible. I mean, Bottletop IIV? Bitterly Empowered? And from your reports, one of them even styled itself as a mad scientist and came up with the idea of using bugs in warfare! I mean, I appreciate that, but these droids are pushing the envelope. Artificial Intelligences were created using entirely different operating systems from droids, and I fear what would happen if they came back out of the bottle,” I said.

  “You were the one to give the order to use bugs in warfare, I’ll point out. None of which helps us out here,” Spalding growled, “unless you want to leave Tracto, put your wife in stasis for the next several years or have her moving around our backs, getting up to who knows what, who knows where and with who knows whom, this is the best idea I can come up with at short notice. You get me, lad?”

  I made a pained expression, feeling a headache coming on.

  “I get you,” I said eventually, “just keep an eye on things and shut it down if you get even half a chance. A strange explosion rocks the lab, the hard drive auto-deleting at the worst moment, that sort of thing.”

  “This Bug Campaign will help slow things but if I have a lot of free time on my hands, she’s going to want to see results. If we’re not getting involved in things down at the Gorgon Front, then you just tell me what I’m going to tell her because I haven’t the faintest clue, Admiral. Not a one. I mean, how am I even supposed to go about building an AI?” he asked, brows beetling in contemplation, “the Elder Protocols alone would be a stone-cold, fire hydrant of a problem to get around.”

  “Get around? Are you even listening to yourself! Focus on the mission at hand. Getting the fleet ready to muster. Distract the wife. Delay and avoid,” I said sharply, “we can leave all the crazy AI nonsense for later.” Very much later, I silently added.

  “Then where are we off to, Sir?” Spalding asked with a gleam entering his eye.

  I looked at him squarely.

  “This fleet is desperately short of crew and I know one place where there are literally tens of thousands of trained spacers sitting on the beach at half pay,” I said, starting to feel some of that old excitement that came with big moves and living on the edge. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure, I was going to go through with it.

  “Oh?” Spalding asked, curiosity evident.

  “Maybe I didn’t mention it before, but King James has run away with half the treasury and Capria is staring down the teeth of a potential bug invasion, while teetering on the edge of financial ruin,” I said.

  “We’re going back to Capria!” Spalding said excitedly.

  “We’re going back,” I said with a grin.

  “Hot Dog!” Spalding shouted happily, “I can’t wait to see the look on a few of the faces back home when we show up in orbit and…” he turned back to me with a gleam in his eye, “did you say something about crews, Admiral?”

  “Yes, I did,” I grinned.

  “We’ve got more than enough lancers in this Fleet but no one trains better spacers than the Kingdom of Capria, Chief Engineer. I think it’s past time we got to pick the cream of the crop,” I said, happy to see the old engineer so excited.

  “I can’t wait to see their faces, it’s been nothing but greenhorns and not very many of them for too long,” Spalding grinned, and then his expression faded until he pursed his lips, “although it may not be my place to say, I hope you’ve got something special cooking back home. King or no King, I don’t know if you noticed but we’ve got a bad rap in this sector. I can’t imagine back home is any different,” he finished with a frown.

  “I’ve got it covered,” I said confidently, “this time next week, they’ll either be calling me Your Majesty or we’ll go somewhere that actually appreciates our efforts, Commander.”

  Spalding blinked in amazement.

  “Now, isn’t that just the best download I’ve heard all day,” he said with surprise, “enough to brighten an old engineer’s entire day!”

  Chapter 9

  The Bug Threat

  “I’ve called you here to see something,” I said, activating the holo-screen.

  3-D images of bugs running rampant in the Star System and on the surface of New Pacifica, which had never rebuilt its SDF, appeared in the conference room.

  It was so lifelike that several officers drew back in alarm.

  The quick overview of the situation on New Pacifica played out with a few news clips taken directly from CNN until finally, the screen showed an old Confederation flotilla arriving in orbit and bombarding a large bug hive on New Pacifica’s southern continent.

  The holo-projector turned off and there was a minute of silence as my top officers digested the documentary we’d just seen, courtesy of the Sector 25 Confederation Flotilla and its commander, Commodore Lisa Hammer.

  “The death toll was somewhere around 100 million souls lost and presumed eaten,” I said in a grim voice, “it would have been worse, and only the fact that many households applied for self-defense permits and began to carry handheld blaster pistols post Reclamation Fleet occupation of their world kept that number from climbing much higher.”

  I paused and waited for that to sink in.

  “I’ve summoned the top leaders of the MSP and Tractoan SDF to the Palace to plan for the upcoming anti-bug campaign,” I finished.

  Several officers exchanged concerned looks before one of them took the bull by the horns.

  “I get that places like New Pacifica need our help. I really do. But are we sure this is our fight, Admiral? Because the New Confederation have made it pretty clear we have no business inside the Rim,” asked Commodore Quentin ‘Rampage’ Jackson.

  I lifted an eyebrow. I thought of all people, he would have been one of my hardest chargers.

  “He’s right, Admiral Montagne,” said Rear Admiral Druid, the top officer in charge of all MSP Battleships, “much as I hate to admit it. The rest of the Spine wants nothing to do with us. Forget kicking us out afterward; will they let us bring the fleet over in the first place?”

  “I’ll be honest; whether or not they want us, the word I’ve received is they need us and I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not keen on standing by while millions of people are turned into bug food. We may not be able to stop this but it won’t be because we didn’t try,” I said, firmly switching back on the projector.

  “Although New Pacifica is the highest profile, half a dozen worlds have been hit in a month-and-a-half period, with no sign they are about to let up. In the Caprian Star System for instance, the System Defense Force was strong enough to fight off a bug Swarm, one that dwarfed the size of all other Swarm attacks to date, including the one that enveloped New Pacifica,” I said frankly.

  “This was not accomplished without loss but that’s another issue, and part of the reason our first stop will be at the Caprian Star System. Which we’ve been invited to visit,” I finished with a sly smile.

  I sat back with anticipation. Not everyone was originally from Capria but a significant number was and I was interested in seeing their reaction. I wasn’t left hanging either.

  “We’re going home. Invited?” Rear Admiral Laurent exclaimed and then immediately apologized.

  Several other men perked up with surprise.

  “Sorry, Sir. Please continue with the briefing,” he said with embarrassment.

  I nodded to Laurent and smirked. There weren’t always a lot of perks with my job but surprising my officers like this, in a good way, was one of them.

  “As the Rear Admiral surmised, we have indeed been requested to lend assistance to the Capria Star System, by the local government, I’ll add. We’ve also been asked to attend a meeting with the Spineward Sectors Regional Authority and select members of the regional congress to help in the efforts to provide protection to an as yet to be determined n
umber of additional worlds. This request was presented by senior members of the Confederation Flotilla in conjunction with a Regional Authority representative,” I said seriously.

  “While I’m excited at the thought of an old home week at Capria, you’re telling us the RA is in the pot and now they want our help? After they kicked us to the curb?” Laurent asked skeptically, “Every sector supposedly has a Flotilla to deal with this sort of thing, or so we were told.”

  “The Customs and Border Control Flotillas stationed in the refurbished Starbases of the ‘Wall Initiative’ report they are over-matched, underfunded and under-strength to deal with this slew of bug attacks we’re seeing here,” I reported.

  “Is anyone surprised the Speaker’s ‘Wall Initiative’ failed so spectacularly? They should never have kicked us to the curb,” Laurent said with satisfaction.

  “You can’t throw a few billion credits and some old warships at a problem then just hope it goes away. You need a real investment for this sort of thing.” Rampage Jackson said.

  “Sadly, these are typical results you get when you have an uneducated politician setting policy and paying for a project and then immediately trying to get it to do three things it was never intended for,” said Druid wryly. “I saw that often enough back when I was with the Sector Guard.”

  “Political commentary to the side…” I said, nodding to Druid. He nodded back. “I just want to be clear, no one has kicked this fleet anywhere, let alone to the curb. We won every battle, or close enough, but still lost the war. We pulled back to Tracto and the Gambit Yards where we have been busy repairing, refitting and rebuilding this Fleet by choice.”

  I could see some looked unimpressed.

  “More than a month after the initial bug attacks, you said. Then why are we only hearing about this now, Sir?” asked Bob Kling, a man only recently out of physical therapy and all that entailed. He was the former commodore and now Rear Admiral in nominal Second in Command of the entire Tractoan SDF.