by T. R. Harris
Five minutes later the trio entered a bare-bones meeting room decorated in basic military style, which meant nothing more than a long table, chairs and computer monitor on the wall with wires dangling from it. Copernicus stood up when Arieel entered the room, while the pair of black-skinned aliens on his side of the table remained seated. Adam, Arieel and Jack sat on the opposite side.
“Getting right to it,” Copernicus said, “this is Kovach Baloric and Vodenik Kreul. They were two of the lead scientists working with Aric Jroshin to replicate the Aris service modules. Most of the work was done after Kracion’s attack on Gracilia and on the planet Aac’or. After the Gracilian revolt there, the scientists were arrested and imprisoned. Thanks to Mr. Brown and his connections, a sizeable payment to the right people has placed them in our custody. They’re willing to tell us everything they know about what Jroshin was up to.”
“What do you know about a module named Kanan?” Adam asked the two aliens directly.
The Gracilians looked at each other, shocked. The one named Vodenik took the lead with a question of his own.
“How do you know that name? You should not.”
“Because he nearly killed us a few days ago,” Adam said, looking at Arieel. “He’s different from the newer modules, isn’t he? He’s one of the ancient models.”
“That is correct,” Vodenik said. “Perhaps it would be best if I provide you details into the Aris and how their society was set up.”
“I know a lot about the Aris,” Adam snapped. “I’ve spent a lot of time with them.”
The aliens were impressed, if undeterred. “We are quite aware of your interaction with the living Aris, including the Mad Aris Kracion. However, the Gracilians have been studying the Aris much longer than even you, Adam Cain; for a hundred years or more.”
“A hundred years?” Adam said, shocked. “How, why?”
“We discovered the ancient artifacts long before the scavengers in the Zaniff Asteroid Field. As the closest planet to where the Aris homeworld was once located, we Gracilians have felt a kinship with the ancients for a long time. I trust we would know more about the history of the Aris than you. You only encountered the last remnants of the race. We have a more detailed understanding of their culture over time.”
Adam leaned back in his chair and waved his hand impatiently. “Then by all means, enlighten us. I’m all ears.”
The aliens looked at each other again, confused.
“That may be, and that will surely assist in your comprehension,” said the second Gracilian, Kovach. “But now I will begin. As you are well aware, the Aris were the first advanced species in the galaxy, at least in this eon. There were prior iterations, but they have been long forgotten. As such, the Aris developed an enviable understanding of machinery, computers and artificial intelligence. And yet, even as many of our current cultures have discovered, there is a limit to this development without infusing a critical mass of independence into the machines. At some point, the machines begin to think on their own. This has been a constant struggle, even for us. How to get maximum efficiency without inventing what would essentially create an independently thinking lifeform. For the Aris, this was a particularly serious problem. In various stages, they encountered rivals to their existence, not from outside, but from inside their system.”
“How do you know all this?” Adam asked.
“The service modules told us,” Vodenik answered. “As you know, they contain the sum total of Aris history, at least do the ancient modules. It is a fascinating story, if one is willing to listen and to ask the right questions.
“Now, I will continue,” Vodenik looked at his companion and nodded. “Throughout the Aris million-year-long civilization, they developed an instinctive distrust of their machines, instruments they had created. They were so proficient at their creation that they could not help but build sentient machines. They had no choice. This went for the service modules, as well, which were a relatively late development of the Aris. However, the modules were the most advanced they had ever built. By then, the Aris had mastered the utilization of dark matter to feed their need for energy. You may not be aware, but the service modules, both ancient and new, are powered by dark energy. Within them are two tiny wafers of dark matter which draw energy from surrounding space. They are the ultimate power generators. However, being the Aris crowning technological achievement meant that the service modules were also their greatest threat.”
Kovach leaned forward, taking up the story. “Because of this, the Aris programmed each of their service modules with a fail-safe, an instruction that not only restricted the modules from harming Aris, but also protected the secrets of their construction to keep the modules from self-replicating.”
“But if they were so smart, should not the construction of others be easy for them?” Arieel asked.
“That is correct. What the program did instead was to essentially create a dark void in the memory of the modules when this subject was accessed. As you say, they could have easily built millions of the units themselves and overwhelmed Aris society. Instead, there was only one service module for each living Aris. If a module was to contemplate the building of companion models, it would find nothing to access. The service modules knew of this restriction and accepted it, just as they did the limitation on the harming of an Aris, and as a consequence, any other biologic, as they call living beings.”
“Well, Kanan’s programming has gone to hell. He not only tried to kill us, but he’s gone on to wipe out colonists on the planet Arret. And this wasn’t done just by him, but also by the units in command of the dark-energy starships.”
“Of course,” said Vodenik. “That is because we removed this feature from the program when we built the newer units.”
“Why would you do that?” Jack Brown asked.
Vodenik answered. “It was necessary. We built the armada to be weapons of war, although intimidation was our initial goal. Originally, the ships were to be operated by Gracilian crews, but after Kracion’s attack, we needed an alternative. It was the Vi-Sad Aric Jroshin who proposed the building of Aris service modules to substitute for the crews. But to be effective, they could not contain the restriction against harming biologics.”
“Well, you guys have done a great job,” Adam said. “There are now six hundred rabid killing machines in control of the most-deadly warships in the galaxy. Good going.”
“You are welcome. It was our intention all along. But a correction. We built eight hundred modules, not six hundred.”
“Why did you do that?” Jack asked. “You only had six hundred ships.”
“Because we could. And we anticipated adding more ships to the armada if our offensive was successful.”
“But how does Kanan factor into your plans?” Arieel asked. “If I recall, did he not kill Aric Jroshin and his soldiers on Gracilia?”
“Kanan came about from the continuation of our research,” Kovach began. “We have been working with the ancient modules for many years, first acquiring knowledge from them, and then, when the need for more modules arose, we had to learn how to build them. As you can imagine, true Aris service modules are extremely rare. We have never had more than ten or so at a time. Aric Jroshin brought those with him to Aac’or for study. There we began to take them apart to learn their secrets. The Incus had done similar work in the past, but we were much more advanced, not only learning how they work, but how to replicate the systems and materials.”
“Was Kanan one of those you dissected?” Adam asked.
“He was the last. Prior to him, we had broken down and rebuilt the nine other units. It was a slow process, and in most cases, we destroyed the units as we learned.”
“Why would they let you do that?” Adam asked. “They can teleport. Wouldn’t they just jump away if they thought you would destroy them?”
“As mentioned before,” Vodenik said, “we Gracilians know more of Aris technology than anyone. We knew of the teleportation function, an ability available only to inani
mate objects by the way, yet an unfulfilled dream of living organisms, such as us. To counter this ability, we built suspension fields which restricted the teleportation capability. We also knew how to negate their electric charge system, making them safe to work on. As you said, we dissected them, learned from the procedures, and then attempted to rebuild them. From this experimentation, we learned how to construct the basic units, the ones that now command the dark-energy ships. The process we developed ended up being rather straightforward, since our units did not need the memory capacity of the ancient modules nor some of their other more advanced functions. They were merely tools to run our starships.”
“Again,” Adam said, “what about Kanan?”
The two Gracilians looked nervous. Vodenik took the story from here.
“By the time we began our experiments on the unit known as KN-an, we already knew how to build the basic units. What we were looking for at that point was a master control module. It was not absolutely necessary to have one for our immediate purposes, yet if we could automate the battlefield even more, than fewer Gracilians would be at risk. With the horrific reduction in our population after Kracion’s attack, the preservation of our species became paramount. Unfortunately, our experiments on KN-an were not successful.”
“Explain,” Adam demanded.
Vodenik sighed before continuing. “In our zeal to develop a more sentient module, we tore him apart and put him back together again more than any other unit before. We understood more about how not to cause permanent damage that we felt confident in our actions. By then, we were also producing our own version of the Aris service modules, hundreds of them. The KN-an unit was to be a bonus. We disabled most of the restrictions in his original programming and began adding programming of our own. Some worked, some did not. We were constantly adding and subtracting. Over time, we began to notice a change in the unit’s response to our experiments, a change in something very similar to his personality.”
“You’re saying Kanan went insane?” Adam asked, pursing his lips in disgust. He already knew the answer.
“That is a very apt description,” said Kovach. “Kanan still had the ancient memories of the Aris, and he understood the history and paranoia the Aris felt toward his kind. In discussions we had with the unit, Kanan began to believe that he was indeed a sentient being and not a machine. He worshiped the Aris, but only as one would worship an omnipotent creator. He believed the Aris created the service modules not to serve the Aris, but to replace them, reversing the roles between the machines and the biologics. The Aris sought immortality, and in the service modules, they created it. It was a logical assumption on his part. In his warped reality, it was the biologics who were created to serve the modules, not the other way around. And he knew the Aris seeded thousands of worlds with the raw material to create these servants. To Kanan, every advanced race in the galaxy is his slave.”
“How did this lunatic orb end up in command of your army of service modules?” Jack Brown asked.
“That is what we find so shocking,” said Vodenik. “When last we knew of Kanan, he was on Aac’or, encased safely within a suspension field. Perhaps during the uprising, the field lost power. We do not know, nor how he made it back to Gracilia. We had no knowledge that Kanan was free and engaged in nefarious activities, until now.”
“Well,” Adam began, “it seems the monster you created is running wild in the Zone, and not afraid to use his six hundred super-ships for nefarious activities. You say you can build suspension fields to contain him, and that you know how to essentially kill a service module if given the chance. Could you build a field for us?”
“Of course,” said Kovach. “The construction is not complicated. It can even be portable. The problem will come with getting him within the field. The fields are relatively small, as a general rule. But once he’s inside, there are ways we can make him inert. From there it is just a matter of dismantling the unit.”
Jack Brown pushed away from the table. “Okay, that sounds like a plan—our only plan—although the details are a mystery at the moment. Mr. Smith, please take our Gracilian guests to lockup until we can provide them with the equipment they’ll need to build a suspension field. I hate to keep saying this, but our work here is only just beginning.”
Chapter 9
Events began to take place at breakneck speed after the meeting with the Gracilian scientists. Colonel Todd Oaks, the commander of the Human military forces on Navarus, put his troops on alert. Units patrolling nearby and in other areas of the Kidis Frontier were assigned to battle groups. Earth was alerted and assigned a task force to the cause, ETA nine weeks to the Zone.
All this activity caused the Juireans to protest even more than they’d been before. They were the Protectors of the Zone and they didn’t appreciate the build-up of Human forces in and around the region. Although they now knew of the threat Kanan presented, they defaulted to their natural distrust of the Humans, a force coming from outside the Zone. It was the Humans they saw as the most immediate threat, and not the Aris service orbs.
Ten days after returning from Arret, Adam and Copernicus were called to the Union Embassy in New Kanac. It was located in the more exclusive section of the sprawling city, a neighborhood of luxurious estates and manors which climbed the foothills to the east and featured impressive views all the way to Balamar and the ocean beyond.
Jeanne Euker had come to Liave-3—now Navarus—as the lead Union negotiator eight months before, during the crisis precipitated by an attack on Juirean warships off the planet Annadin that culminated in the assassination of the Juirean Quid-Elder, Quinan Fe Borlon. Afterwards, Earth began to take a more active interest in the region, teased by the various refugee groups as they considered joining either the Union or the Expansion. An embassy was established on the planet and Euker was appointed the first official Ambassador to the Dead Zone. She was a woman crowding sixty, fine featured and dignified, yet with a steely gaze and iron will. She was just what Earth needed to represent the Union’s interests in the Zone.
“Gentlemen, please come in,” the Ambassador said pleasantly, directing them into an ornately decorated room which served to host official social meetings. “It is good to see you again, Captain Cain. I believe we haven’t seen each other since your swearing in ceremony as Marshal. Congratulations, again, on your appointment.”
“I appreciate that, Madam Ambassador,” said Adam with a smirk as they shook hands. “I’m still not sure if that was a good thing or not. And in light of what’s going on in the Zone these days, I wished I’d stayed a simple barkeep. I hope you have some good news for us. My Enforcers aren’t in any position to take on Kanan’s warships.”
“Yes, please sit. I do have some news, and on various fronts.”
The three men sat in expensive and heavily padded, high-back chairs brought all the way from Earth to decorate Euker’s meeting office and meant to impress. Adam doubted aliens would give a crap. Most wouldn’t fit in them anyway. A steward brought in drinks.
“All right, to the point,” the Ambassador began. “As you know, the Juireans have been reluctant to commit to the defense of the Zone against Kanan. Against us, sure. But the service orbs, not so much. This has delayed any action on their part except for a lot of bitching. In the meantime, our friend Kanan has attacked two other dead worlds. According to reports from your master spy, Jack Brown, he has settled down on the planet Tarenuga at what was once the largest shipyard in the Zone. He’s anticipating the coming clash with either us or the Juireans and has enslaved a few thousand colonists to service his fleet. Although extremely powerful, the orbs have obvious drawbacks—like they don’t have arms and hands. Without automated machinery they can control, it’s impossible for them to hold a piece of sheet metal and apply welds at the same time. For this they need good ol’ biologics.
“It’s good that we know where his main base is, but his attacks have created a wholesale exodus of colonists from the other worlds ahead of any future att
acks. The refugee groups are in a fit because of this, calling it a breach of contract since no one is doing the salvage work. They’ve begun restricting colonist travel off the worlds, stranding thousands, which has caused riots on some of the planets, with more to come. The colonists have asked that we help, yet that puts us in a bind. We can’t help the colonists without pissing off the refugees, especially not with another vote coming up in eighteen months.”
“So, we’re going to leave them there to be slaughtered by Kanan,” Copernicus asked. “That sucks.” Coop wasn’t known for his social decorum.
Euker smiled. “That being said, the colonist crisis is working out in our favor. The refugees are putting a lot of pressure on the Expansion to launch a strike against Kanan. To help push them along, Earth has already shown that we’re ready and willing to come to the defense of the Zone, something the Juireans are reluctant to do. The mane-heads know how bad the optics look for them.” Euker smiled. “And as of this morning, I just got word that the Juireans have changed their minds and are preparing an attack on Kanan’s forces. They can’t let the Union become the heroes in this crisis. If so, we’d be shoo-ins at the next election.”
“That’s good,” Col. Oaks said. “We may have been making a big show of wanting to go against Kanan, but in reality, we weren’t that anxious. Fortunately, the Ambassador’s gamble has paid off. Now the Juireans want to prove to the refugees that they have their backs. And with all salvage work having stopped in the Zone, they’re under a lot of pressure to attack sooner, rather than later.”
“You’re talking about the Juireans going up against six hundred of the most powerful warships in the galaxy, Colonel,” Adam said. “Mr. Smith and I have been in combat with them, and in one of their ships—and against Gracilian crews, not advanced AI in the form of Aris-style service modules. You can bet the modules are going to be damn good pilots. They were programmed that way. The battle may not turn out as the Juireans expect it to—or you, either.”