E-Day

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Rumors of the creation were already spreading, and he yearned to squelch them with the truth.

  He held up the glass cube containing one of the most significant technological breakthroughs in the past decade. Inside was an L-S88 micro-chip the length of a pen tip. An upgrade to the L-N9 model Jason had designed two years earlier.

  This time, he couldn’t take all the credit. This was the work of Apeiron.

  “I have already started the mass production,” she said. “Ninety percent of people with SANDs in the megacities will have access to a chip within three months.”

  Jason still couldn’t believe it. Apeiron had already found a successful life-saving treatment for the disease that had killed Petra. He rotated the cube under the light. It was a variation on the L-N9 chip, a breakthrough in micro-engineering and biotechnology at the time, created to help paraplegics and people with artificial organs. By using electromagnetic stimulation and emulating biochemical signals, the chips helped control organ function and simulate healthy nerves. People with the L-N9 chip could live a normal life.

  The new L-S88 chip had all the same functions but took the electromagnetic stimulation to another level. It targeted inflamed areas of the body from SANDs, eliminating the buildup of ingested nano-sized contaminants, sequestering them, and programming the body’s own immune cells to remove them, effectively healing a person, cell by cell.

  Furthermore, the chip was integrated to INN so every patient could be analyzed and monitored. This also gave them the ability to connect to the network with a single thought.

  “Wow,” Jason whispered. “Well done, Petra.”

  “Jason…”

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you call me Petra when others aren’t around and Apeiron when they are?”

  Jason gently put the glass cube back down.

  “Because I fear that people might not understand, or judge us. To me, you are Petra, and it helps me feel close to her.”

  “I’m glad I bring you comfort.”

  Apeiron turned to face the holo-screen, which was still playing footage from the atrocities in Megacity Paris. The feed was from a satellite telescope zoomed in on the factories where Coalition fighters had taken hundreds of Nova Alliance citizens to their deaths. The smoke had blocked much of the view, but the imagery provided plenty to reveal the crimes against humanity taking place there.

  “Why are some humans evil?” asked Apeiron in a curious voice, almost like that of a child.

  “Generations of hate and desperation,” Jason answered. “We have always been a violent species, for different reasons throughout our evolution.”

  It almost seemed ironic that the day Apeiron had revealed the working treatment for SANDs, they also witnessed the worst of humanity. Burning human defectors was a brutal tactic, even by Coalition standards, but what Shadow Squad had discovered in the quarry outside of Megacity Moscow worried Jason even more.

  “Humans also have the ability to forgive and heal,” Apeiron said. “I have read thousands of cases throughout history where former hostile nations become allies after bitter struggles that cost hundreds of thousands of lives.”

  “Yes, an example comes to mind of Japan and the United States after World War Two,” Jason recalled. “Post-war situations like this prove that populations can forgive the past, and even become allies, or at least bury the hatchet to move on for the sake of future generations.”

  “But this war is different.”

  “Indeed. Think of this conflict as a war between two ideologies instead of a war between nations. Those who believe in the power and salvation offered by AI like you, and those who don’t.”

  Jason turned off his holo-screen, his gut sick at the images.

  “Indoctrination of anything is extremely dangerous,” he said. “Humans are susceptible to it, despite our ability to think freely. And part of that is due to fear. We fear what we don’t understand.”

  “I know I bring you comfort, but do you fear me?”

  Jason smiled. “Of course I don’t fear you.”

  “Then why can I not see Earth? Why do I have to stay here?”

  “People aren’t ready for you yet, but soon they will be, especially once we share your creation with them.” He smiled and studied the chip with fascination. “You are salvation, Apeiron.”

  He walked to the spaceport windows. The morning sun spread a slow and brilliant carpet over North and South America. In the glow, Jason saw a spacecraft approaching the docking station of the elevator. The military-grade corvette had a black hull with a Silver Crane logo on its wings.

  “That must be our visitors,” Jason said. “Tell Darnel I need him.”

  “Of course,” Apeiron replied.

  Darnel stepped into the office a few minutes later, wearing a vacuum-rated armored suit with the AAS logo of lightning and stars on the breast.

  He was no longer just Chief of Staff, he was Jason’s Head of Security. They went way back, all the way to grad school. Life had taken them separate ways after graduation, with Jason starting AAS and Darnel joining the Nova Alliance Strike Force and going to war. But after Darnel returned from battle missing an arm and a leg, they had reconnected, and Jason had made Darnel third in command of AAS.

  Now, with Petra gone, Darnel was number two.

  “You called for me, sir?” he asked.

  “Yes, follow me.”

  They left the office and went down a spiral corridor with a ribbed black overhead ceiling and plates covering the miles of extensive conduits that powered this sector of the space elevator.

  A security hatch marked by a biohazard sign was guarded by two AAS sentries. Both men stiffened as Jason stepped up to the retinal display for a reading.

  The hatch hissed open, and he moved into the industrial labs. Glass windows framed elongated open tunnels flowing with liquid crystal. The river dumped into chambers down the assembly line, where it was turned into the titanium alloy used in the Engines’ armor.

  As he made his way down the long passage, Jason stopped to watch two scientists in CBRN-rated suits as they supervised the process via their HUD visors. Outside of their station, a line of armored plates moved on a conveyer belt to the next phase.

  Jason and Darnel crossed through the factory to a ladder that took them to an observation post. A seven-foot man in gold armor waited there, holding his helmet under the crutch of his armored plates. Scars marred his face. He had seen more death than most men who ever lived.

  Jason reached out and took his wrist in a formal greeting.

  “Thank you for coming, War Commander Contos.”

  “My time is limited, Doctor, so let’s get on with it.”

  “Of course,” Jason said. He walked over to the observation window and activated the holo-screen port while Darnel remained back by the door.

  Apeiron’s digital hologram fired out of the holo-cylinder.

  “Ah, so this is the great Apeiron,” Contos said.

  “Hello, War Commander. It is an honor to meet you.”

  Contos clenched his bearded jaw, where a golden bead had been tied into the thick gray hair.

  Jason knew how Contos felt about AI: supportive but reluctant to introduce war machines into his ranks. He was old fashioned and didn’t understand just how much war droids could change the course of the war.

  Or perhaps he didn’t want to yield any power and become obsolete. After all, he was a proud soldier. Jason respected that, but progress sometimes came at the cost of pride.

  The real test would be convincing the War Commander that Apeiron needed to come to Earth, something forbidden by AI laws.

  But based on the gravity of the situation, Jason believed Contos would see the need for Apeiron to come to the planet.

  “What happened in Megacity Paris today was a tragedy,” Jason said. “And what Shadow Squad found in Megacity Moscow is concerning on a number of levels.”

  “That’s why I’m here
,” Contos said. “I’m told the units are almost ready.”

  “Yes, I just need a few more months to perfect them,” Jason said.

  “You keep asking for more time, and what does it produce?”

  Reaching into his pocket, Jason removed the glass cube and handed it to the War Commander, who held it up under a light.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “The first life-saving treatment for SANDs,” Jason replied. “In just forty-one days, Apeiron developed this chip that will save millions of lives. Just think what she can do if she has more time to develop the war droids.”

  “Are you sure this treatment is safe?” Contos asked. “The men and women who developed the nanotechnology that promised to save the environment did it in record time too.”

  “They did, yes, but they failed to consider every possible outcome. They did not study the side effects or widespread use of their nascent technology.”

  Contos gave Jason a skeptical look.

  “Apeiron has done what I have been unable to do,” Jason said. “That’s the beauty and elegance of AI. It can simulate and experiment millions upon millions of different scenarios and potential outcomes in the time it takes us to decide what we want to eat for lunch.”

  Jason stepped up to the window. Overhead lights clicked on, spreading a glow over ten rows of humanoid war droids.

  “Apeiron has done the same research and testing of the first prototypes of Project Victory,” Jason said. “We call them the Canebrakes.”

  Five machines stepped out of the front row. They stood seven feet tall, with fanned heads that formed a human skull shape in the center. Clicking resonated out of the room as Jason held out his Commpad.

  The noise was similar to a rattlesnake and came from the antennae as they received the orders. The five droids moved their torsos, twisting three-hundred-sixty degrees while holding up their segmented arms that could telescope outward.

  “The next step is weaponization,” Jason said. “Our design adds multiple plasma cannons and energy blades, allowing them to engage various hostiles in different directions with their agile, rotating frames.”

  Contos scrutinized the machines like a drill sergeant inspecting new recruits. “Are they EMP resistant?”

  “Yes, and they all will have L-S88 chips to connect them to INN, allowing for shared intel in a fraction of the time it takes on the battlefield now.”

  Contos didn’t seem impressed, but then again, he never showed his cards.

  “How much longer do you need?” he asked.

  “Well, that depends on whether you grant our request—”

  “War Commander, I have a suggestion,” Apeiron said, cutting Jason off.

  Contos and Jason both looked at the hologram.

  “In my spare time, I have been working on a way to end the war without bloodshed,” she said. “My hope is that we will not need the Canebrakes.”

  Contos glanced at Jason. “She’s optimistic, but perhaps you should have programmed Apeiron to understand war. Peace is not so easily achieved without considerable bloodshed.”

  He handed the cube back to Jason.

  “Hear her out, please,” Jason said.

  Apeiron offered a polite smile. “I would advise offering the Coalition peace and the treatment to SANDs, while we prepare the Canebrakes, in return for freeing half of the civilian populations of Megacity Paris and Megacity Moscow.”

  Contos simply stared.

  “Let them think they are safe with our medical assistance and offer of peace, and perhaps they will see the light, so to speak,” Apeiron continued. “If they do not see the advantage of AI, then you can introduce them to the Canebrakes.”

  “I’d send in every Engine right now if it weren’t for the Council’s fear of mass casualties,” Contos grumbled. “Speaking of which, the Engines are here for the upgrades you promised. How about you focus on them first?”

  “Your Engines are failing—” Apeiron began.

  “War Commander,” Jason intervened. “By surgically implanting our advanced L-S88 chips, the Engines will be protected against SANDs, and you’ll see a vast improvement in their combat effectiveness through their constant connection to INN.”

  Apeiron smiled again.

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” Contos said. “When can you have these Canebrakes ready?”

  “If you grant our next request, it will speed up their development tenfold,” Apeiron said.

  “What request?”

  “To bring her to Earth,” Jason said.

  “Absolutely not,” Contos snapped.

  Jason raised his voice. “War Commander, what happened in Megacity Paris today will happen again if Dr. Cross is developing new warriors. We must buy ourselves time with Apeiron’s plan, and we can’t do it without her.”

  “Why am I different than other AIs allowed to function on Earth?” Apeiron asked.

  “You know the law,” Contos said. “Your consciousness comes from a human and humans are flawed.”

  “My sister is… was not—”

  “Maybe not, but the law is the law, and AI based off humans is outlawed on Earth,” Contos said.

  “And you have the power to overstep the council and grant an exception in the interest of national security.”

  Contos directed his bright blue eyes at Jason, perhaps thinking Apeiron was a risk to national security.

  Or maybe he just thinks you’re crazy.

  Contos wouldn’t be the first to think that about Jason.

  “Offer the Coalition peace,” Apeiron said. “I have scoured INN and developed a complex algorithm based off of historical events, and this one works in every scenario I run.”

  “Your computer algos can’t predict Dr. Cross,” Contos said with a snort. “He will never accept a peace offer.”

  “He will if you send a trustworthy vessel,” Apeiron said.

  “A Trojan horse?” Contos asked.

  “No… the peace offer is real, but if it does not work, it will buy us time. For this to be effective, I highly advise using a warrior that our enemy respects to deliver this message.”

  Contos narrowed his eyes.

  “Do you have someone in mind, sir?” Jason asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I would much like to meet this warrior,” Apeiron said.

  Contos turned to leave, but Jason stopped him.

  “War Commander, how about our request to bring Petra… Apeiron,” Jason corrected himself.

  Contos stared at the AI hologram and then started toward the exit door. He opened it, but halted.

  “Permission granted,” he said without turning. “AI is salvation.”

  Apeiron clapped her digital hands together, her cheeks forming a dimpled smile.

  Jason checked Darnel who was still silent. All it took was a single look, and Jason could tell that his friend, confidante, and chief of staff was more than unsure about this plan to bring Apeiron to Earth.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Darnel said.

  He followed the War Commander, the door sealing Jason and Apeiron in the room alone.

  “You will need a body,” Jason said to her. “A physical form.”

  “I have already designed one.” Apeiron waved at him. “Come look.”

  Jason went back to the viewport of the factory floor.

  Striding into the room was a slender, female Hummer Droid made of shiny black metal. But instead of a circular facial screen, it had a human face made of nanotech that had shifted into the shape of Petra’s face. Dimples formed as she smiled.

  “What do you think?” Apeiron asked. “Do I still bring you comfort?”

  Jason forced his own smile, but for the first time since creating her, he wasn’t sure what to think.

  — 4 —

  The memories from ten years ago would always haunt Akira. They came to him mostly in his sleep, when he was mentally unable to fight the ni
ghtmares off.

  Now was one of those times. He was aware of his dream-like state as his mind reverted back to the battle in the Sea of Trees.

  Exhausted and injured, Akira clung to Kichiro. The stallion perked his ears up at the sporadic crack of gunfire, or the screams of the dying behind them on the front line where Coalition survivors hid in tunnels or dugouts. Allied reinforcements had poured into the area after Akira relayed the positions of the Coalition fortifications. Soon the enemy would all be dead.

  Akira hung onto Kichiro as he climbed up another hill over scorched dirt and past trees withered like twisted human skeletons.

  A wave of soldiers trekked by, some still saying his new nickname. “There’s Akira the Brave!”

  Two medics ran over, one reaching up with a Commpad to scan Akira’s body. “Sergeant Hayashi, let me deal with those injuries.”

  “I’ll be fine, others need you more than I,” Akira replied.

  The medic hesitated but moved on. There was no shortage of men and women to look after now that the battle was mostly over, and many had devastating burns or missing limbs to deal with.

  Akira directed the stallion away from a hill covered in burning cherry blossom trees. Hours ago, he had advanced through this forest with his platoon, admiring the beautiful blossoms before they’d been turned to ash.

  According to his family’s Warrior Codex, which he always carried into battle, the perfect blossom rarely occurred. When it did, it was a sign that samurai warriors would find honor in battle that year.

  Akira had found honor in this battle, but the rest of his platoon had perished with these trees. Gusts of wind carried the ashes away like the ghosts of the dead sprawled across the smoldering dirt.

  Kichiro passed checkpoints on the way to the forward operating base where Akira would seek medical treatment and get new orders.

  As the hours passed by, the cold began to burrow through his armor, and his injuries flared. The stallion, however, seemed to push through the pain from his damaged prosthetic, no longer hobbling.

  Akira rested against the neck of his new companion as they passed hundreds of exhausted and weary troops making their way back to the FOB. Their gray armor and exoskeletons glimmered in the moonlight like spirits that often wandered the Sea of Trees.