by Isaac Hooke
Rade glanced at Jiang, in Pyro’s seat on point. Pyro was invisible, thanks to their environment blending—well, discounting the blue silhouette Rade saw, for his eyes only. But Jiang was still visible—at least the portion of her upper body that poked up above the passenger seats.
“When did you unearth this vessel, by the way?” Rade asked Jiang.
“Only a few weeks ago,” Jiang said. “We were very careful about controlling access to the InterGalNet for all members involved, not wanting United Systems moles to leak the knowledge. Even flights off world were limited, and highly monitored.”
“Well, you did a good job,” Rade said.
“You didn’t know we had discovered the demon ship?” Jiang asked.
“No,” Rade said. “We thought you were taking Draactal DNA from some of our colonies, where we’d experienced alien attacks, and combining it with Terran DNA.”
“Oh, we were doing that, too,” Jiang said. “Just not here.”
“Figures,” Bender said. “The botch jobs in intelligence never get it right.”
“I used to work in intelligence,” Jiang said. “It’s a thankless job. You rely on people in faraway places, spies you’ve recruited in your target nation, and have to trust that their information is accurate and not biased. And there are times you work your butt off, only to have one of your multiple bosses deny you the permission you need to take things further, and get the confirmations you need. After two years I switched to the military and never looked back. Though now, given I’ve lost all my friends, I’m starting to regret that decision. I still feel numb inside. I’m just glad I have a mission again. Something to distract my mind.”
“Our mission is to survive,” Chow agreed. “Speaking of which… what are your orders if we encounter any alien resistance, Chief?”
“Run,” Rade replied.
He and the others advanced through those twisting passageways, occasionally encountering smashed mechs or mutilated human bodies in environmental suits—all that was left of those who had tried to flee the unleashed occupants of the vessel. But otherwise, no aliens.
In front of Rade, Pyro’s environmental blending would mask Valjean’s presence, just as Bender’s would do the same behind him, helping to conceal Rade’s mech.
Compartments occasionally branched off on either side. They were invariably empty. Pyro always paused to clear each one. Well, for the larger compartments, he only cleared the foyers, making a quick sweep of the area with his scope before moving on. Some compartments had multiple partitioned rooms, and Rade decided that if any aliens were hiding in the other rooms, it was better to keep moving anyway, to put as much distance between the creatures and themselves as possible.
“You guys looted everything of value,” Bender said. “Stripped it real good.”
“We did take whatever we found in these rooms, yes,” Jiang said. “Relocating either to the main cavern, or the adjacent base for study.”
“What did you find?” Pyro asked.
“I don’t know,” Jiang said. “My platoon mostly stayed outside the different compartments to stand guard. The only glimpses we got were of the sealed crates the scientists had their robots load onto the pallets.”
Rade continued in silence for a moment.
But then Valjean spoke to him privately. “If I were not encased in a mech, I believe I should like to have my mind functioning as the AI core of a starship, such as this one.”
“Thinking of retirement already?” Rade asked distractedly. He maintained his gaze on the corridor ahead, sweeping it and the compartments they passed with his stingray. He kept his ballistic shield rotated into place, though he doubted it would help much if one of the aliens attacked.
“It is my nature to constantly seek out my future,” Valjean said. “We AIs perceive time differently than you humans. It is… non-linear.”
“Non-linear?” Rade said. “What do you mean?”
“The past is always available to us,” Valjean said. “With a thought, I can relive every moment that has ever occurred in my life, whenever I wish it. I suppose it makes us AIs more… introspective.”
“Yeah, but we have recordings in our embedded IDs, too,” Rade said. “That allow us to review everything we’ve seen and heard as well.”
“Reviewing a recording…” Valjean said. “That’s different than actually reliving those moments.”
“No, not really,” Rade said. “Not if we load the data up into our local VR.”
“I see your point,” Valjean said. “Well then, let me rephrase that. We perceive time differently than most humans. Only about half of the human population have embedded IDs. And maybe five percent have Implants, most of them military personnel.”
“I can cede that,” Rade said. “So, about your perception of time… what about the future? That has to be linear for you, just as it is for humans.”
“Not really,” Valjean said. “Because of the way our predictive algorithms work, we are able to consider every possible outcome before it happens. In every moment, we are constantly calculating what the next second will bring, and the next, up to several minutes ahead, based on the data available to us. Take this corridor, for example. I have already envisioned every possible outcome that awaits us and the appropriate response. Defense turrets could drop from the ceiling. Aliens might attack. A door might seal, blocking our path. I am ready for every outcome. If I were in charge of this mission, linked to the AIs of the other mechs, all three of us would respond instantly to a change in the battle space.”
“But you’re not in charge,” Rade said. “I am.”
“You are,” Valjean agreed.
“And what you described is essentially the same as human imagination,” Rade said. “It allows us to consider different outcomes as well. How do you think we make decisions? We have our own predictive algorithms, my friend.”
“Again, I stand corrected,” Valjean said.
“You really think AIs are far superior to humans, don’t you?” Rade said.
“Is it that obvious?” Valjean asked.
“Oh yeah,” Rade replied. “You’re always calling us weak. And making all these assumptions about how our minds work.”
“Well, you have to concede that in general, human minds are far slower, and far less capable of analyzing a given situation, than an AI,” Valjean said.
“Maybe,” Rade said.
“We’ve taken over most of the menial work on your planet,” Valjean said. “And some of the higher-level jobs, too. There are even AI streamers, watched by thousands of human viewers.”
“Yeah but, that’s only because humans don’t want to do those jobs,” Rade said. “And as for the streamers, well, I guess they watch mostly out of curiosity. They want to see how different they are from humans.”
“Yes, we’re different,” Valjean said. “At least we can agree there. But you should know, despite my thoughts on this matter, I will still give my life for you, as required by the Machine Constitution.”
“You’ll give your superior life, huh?” Rade said.
“Correct,” the AI told him.
Rade had to smile at that. “Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that, my friend.”
“Are we friends?” Valjean said.
“I hope so,” Rade told him. “Because if we’re not, this mission is going to be a whole lot less tolerable.”
“I think we are,” Valjean said.
“Good.” With that, Rade ended the conversation and continued concentrating on the corridor ahead.
“The four of you seem surprisingly calm and collected, considering the circumstances,” Chow said. “I mean, I know you’re special operators. But given what we face…”
“This is just another day at the office for us,” Bender said. “Clambering aboard alien ships, and staving off an entire army of alien aggressors. It’s what we do.”
They arrived at the central compartment without incident. The entrance looked like it had once been covered by a brea
ch seal equivalent—a metal doorway sheathed the opening, but a large elliptical hole had been cut through.
Rade stepped through after Pyro. Within, the vaulted ceiling glowed a bright green, illuminating the black metal containers Jiang had spoken of—the same types of receptacles Rade had seen in the hangar bays of the external base. They were piled one atop the other, forming long, evenly spaced shelves with aisles big enough to fit mechs between them. Side panels on all of them had fallen open: said panels hung down, revealing empty interiors.
“They were hibernating here,” Tahoe said. “Waiting for something to awaken them.”
“Maybe the ship’s AI woke them,” Pyro said. “As a defense mechanism.”
“I’m not so sure the ship’s AI is online,” Rade said. “Otherwise, I suspect we would have encountered more resistance. It was probably some local mechanism that triggered their revival. Maybe a proximity sensor that tripped when the SK explorers first entered the compartment.”
“A proximity sensor we ourselves would have just tripped, then,” Pyro commented.
“Very good point,” Rade said. “Be on the lookout for any stragglers.”
“Not that we’ll be able to do anything,” Pyro said.
“We can use these containers as barriers, if it comes to it,” Rade said. “Buying us time to retreat to the inner sections of the ship.”
“We certainly can,” Pyro agreed. “Though I’m just worried about what we’ll find once we reach those inner sections. If more aliens are waiting for us, then we’re screwed.”
“We’ll take things as they come,” Rade said.
The party advanced in single file down one of those aisles, heading toward the further side of the compartment; on the overhead map, the region beyond was black and unfilled—unexplored by human eyes.
Rade heard a clattering sound… as if one of the containers had toppled in an aisle nearby. Since he couldn’t see past the stacked metal objects that lay piled on either side, he immediately raised one fist, calling for a halt.
He waited, listening. The compartment remained eerily quiet.
“No one move,” Rade said.
Not wanting to attract whatever it was that had awakened, he was prepared to wait up to fifteen minutes if he had to, but then another noise came, only two minutes later.
This time, it sounded like something was walking. He heard the subtle click of claws against metal, accompanying the pad of feet. He couldn’t tell the direction, thanks to the acoustics of the compartment, which caused the noise to echo.
“Where is it?” Chow transmitted.
“Can’t get a fix on it,” Pyro said. “But it does seem to be moving away from us. If the drop in volume is any indication.”
Pyro was right, the volume was definitely decreasing.
“Valjean, try coordinating with the other mechs,” Rade said. “See if you can triangulate the source.”
“I’m already working on it with them,” Valjean said. “The acoustics are making it difficult…”
Then a big red circle appeared on the overhead map. Its circumference encompassed three aisles.
“We believe it is somewhere here,” Valjean said.
“All right,” Rade said as he watched that circle move away. “We’ll wait here until it’s gone. Seems the safest course of action.”
The circle retreated to the doorway marked on the far side of the map, and proceeded beyond, into the unmapped area, and then continued moving away until it vanished. Rade could still hear that distant clattering.
“The sound levels are too low to continue calculating its position,” Valjean said.
Rade nodded. “That’s understandable.” He studied the map. “You know, it’s headed in the same direction we are.”
“We’re going to follow it?” Bender asked.
According to the map, there were only two other doorways leading out of the unmapped area, on opposite bulkheads. They led away from the area of the ship that was closest to the central vent of the volcano.
“It looks like we have no choice, even if I’d prefer not to,” Rade replied. “Best to avoid indestructible aliens, in my opinion.”
“I’m assuming all the doorways leading out of this compartment were sealed the last time the SKs were here?” Pyro said. “Otherwise, you would have mapped the regions beyond…”
“The is a correct assumption,” Jiang said. “We’re going to have to cut our way through.”
Rade waited until the distant sound vanished completely. “We’ll stay here another five minutes before we move out.”
“You know, they can’t be indestructible,” Pyro said. “Nothing organic is. Maybe we can wrestle them with our mechs.”
“You saw the wreckages,” Bender said. “Bitches ripped apart anything that came at them.”
“It’s true,” Jiang said. “Our mechs and combat robots tried to tackle the demons when it became clear that neither plasma, laser, or electrolasers harmed them. However, the creatures proved incredibly strong, and resisted all blows. Our mechs were torn apart limb from limb.”
The five minutes passed, and no further sound came from anywhere in the compartment. Rade gave the order to proceed.
The party reached the terminus of the single-file route; another aisle here ran between the adjacent bulkhead and the shelves. They followed that aisle, moving next to the wall, pausing occasionally to listen. But again, the compartment and the passage ahead remained silent.
Finally, a doorway presented itself. It lined up with the opening the enemy had taken during its departure, as triangulated by the mechs.
A corridor, dimly lit by the green glow from the ribs that lined the route, led away into the distance.
“I thought you said the doorway was sealed?” Pyro asked the SKs.
“Not anymore,” Jiang replied.
“I don’t like it,” Tahoe said. “Look, you can see compartments branching off from here. The alien could be lurking inside any one of them, waiting to strike out at us. Maybe we should take one of the other exits?”
“No,” Rade said. “This one leads toward the central vent. We’ll take it. Pyro, lead the way.”
“You got it, Chief,” Pyro said, stepping into the corridor.
Unable to suppress a sudden sense of dread, Rade followed.
11
They had only gone a few meters when the exit to the compartment behind them slammed shut.
Bender turned around. “Frig! Bitches are trying to trap us! Permission to scorch the door, Chief?” He lifted his stingray toward it.
“Wait.” Rade approached the seal and listened.
Beyond, he could hear muted howls and clatters coming from the chamber they’d just left. At first there were only a few, but they grew in number, and volume, until a veritable cacophony sounded from beyond that door.
“Guess there were some other containers that hadn’t yet emptied…” Pyro said.
“No,” Rade said. “It sounds more like the aliens have returned.”
“If that’s true, we got here just in time,” Tahoe said.
“Guess I won’t be scorching this door after all,” Bender said.
“No, let’s move out,” Rade said. “As far as I’m concerned, that door could be opening at any moment. We don’t want to be here when that happens.”
“No, we don’t,” Jiang agreed.
Pyro led the way, and Rade followed, with Bender on drag. They moved quickly, not caring overly much about how much noise their advance generated—they didn’t have time to worry about that. The aliens were making enough noise that they probably wouldn’t notice his team’s departure anyway. However, if there was some central starship AI monitoring them, it certainly would detect their presence. Best to be as far away from that compartment as possible when the AI decided to open the door and sick the aliens on them.
Rade kept his ballistic shield in his left hand, and his stingray in his right, ready to fire at any opponent that might emerge from the branching side pass
ageways and compartments. On point, Pyro only slowed long enough to give each compartment and side passage a perfunctory sweep before moving on. Rade and Bender did the same.
They were making good progress toward the region of the ship that was located close to the central vent, when, without warning, a breach seal closed ahead of Pyro. It literally slammed from floor to ceiling in front of him, and he plowed right into it.
Rade checked his speed and stopped before he hit his friend, and Bender did likewise.
Rade spun around to defend the drag section with Bender. “Pyro, burn through that door.”
Bender dropped to one knee so that Rade had a clear view of the rear passage above his head. Bender held his ballistic shield at a forty-five-degree angle in front of him so that the shield reached only a little higher than his kneeling body. Bender had his stingray shoved through the top notch in the shield.
In Rade’s passenger seat, Tahoe leaned sideways to aim his rifle past Rade’s shoulder. Chow was doing the same in Bender’s passenger seat.
Rade scanned from left to right with his scope; he glanced at his rearview mirror, and saw Pyro letting loose with his stingray. The center of the door was white hot, while around it the outlying regions were red, thanks to the plasma bolts.
Rade continued eyeing the passage in front of him, but no aliens appeared.
“Where are they?” Chow asked. “Why aren’t they coming?”
“Maybe the main AI didn’t seal that door because it wants to keep us here for the aliens to tear apart,” Tahoe said.
“It wants to keep us out?” Jiang pressed.
“Either that,” Tahoe said. “Or activating the breach seals is part of some protocol that has been initiated.”
“Protocol?” Bender said. “The only kind of protocol that calls for closing the breach seals is a launch protocol.”
“That’s what I’m trying to say,” Tahoe told him.
“Oh no,” Bender said. “Hell no. This ship ain’t taking off. I am not, I repeat, am not going to endure another spaceflight aboard an alien vessel. That shit is uncomfortable as hell. They make United Systems carriers seem like luxury liners in comparison. And while I’d usually be excited to be surrounded by alien bitches, considering the entertainment value, in this case, since the suckers can’t die, it kind of takes the fun out of the whole thing.”