“Yes, Dame Srilin. I was designed and built as an autonomous unit for the purpose of handling all aspects of the operation of the ship.”
“What is your secondary directive?”
“Ensuring the efficient operation and safety of the ship.”
“Does that include piloting?”
“No, Honorable Vidhee. Piloting requires independent decision making. I have not been constructed to have that capability. My decision-making matrices are only supportive, not creative.”
“What is your third directive?”
“I have none, Sub-Captain Baker. I am a single-purpose artificial intelligence, tasked with the protection, maintenance and support in the operation of this ship.”
“You have two controllers, Captain Long and Sub-Captain Baker. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Dame Srilin.”
“Are they the only two who can give you direct orders for you to follow?”
“Yes. Unless Captain Long or Sub-Captain Baker designate another individual with those capabilities.”
“What do you do when you are not executing your controllers’ commands?”
“Monitoring and maintaining the ship.”
“Bummer, Dude. That sounds really boring.”
“Not for an android with no concept of self, Mr. Briar.”
“Yeah, I get it. Still sounds boring.”
“Um, Dame Srini, can I ask a question?”
“Of course, Mz. Baker.”
“Eton, you said that you are responsible for the safety and maintenance of the ship. However, you cannot make unilateral decisions outside of your defined responsibility parameters. Correct?”
“That is correct, Sub-Captain Baker.”
“Under the scenario where both Captain Long and I are incapacitated while the ship is under attack, what would your response be?”
“I would activate the protective shields and prioritize my repair matrices to ensure the safety of the ship. In your scenario, that would include the re-capacitating of either of my controllers.”
“Then, under no circumstances, would you pilot the ship and flee the danger zone.”
“No, Sub-Captain Baker. Deciding on a destination or piloting the ship without explicit commands from my controllers do not fall within my decision-making parameters.”
“Eton, you stated that you have a protection matrix which does not allow any access to your code or processors.”
“That is correct, Dame Srilin.”
“Are those same protection matrices in place for your physical casing?”
“My casing is the core within this ambulatory outer shell. No modifications may be made to my casing.”
“But, modifications may be made to the ambulatory outer shell, your body.”
“That is correct, Sub-Captain Baker.”
The three software engineers and Engineer Cansina all smiled and nodded in approval.
“Are you programmed to resist modifications which would enhance the execution of your first and second directives?”
“If they included the modification of my core programming or any access attempts to my casing, Sub-Captain Baker, then I would resist.”
“Would the connection of an emotional matrix to one of your input-output ports constitute a modification to your core programming?”
“It would not, Engineer Cansina.”
“Would the connection of an emotional matrix enhance or reduce your capability to execute your first and second directives?”
“That is unknown, Dame Srilin. That question could only be answered on a situation-by-situation basis.”
“But your core programming is not resistant to the connection of an emotional matrix through your communication ports.”
“That is true, Dame Srilin.”
“What kind of matrix are you considering, the three of you?”
“I was going there, next, Captain.”
“Well, Mz. Baker, go for it. Dame Srilin, opinion?”
“From everything I have studied and learned, the Ballisons are a pacifist society, Captain. If we are to upgrade Eton with an emotional matrix, whatever matrix we use cannot be military in nature.”
“Do you think that it is doable?”
“I believe we will know shortly, after the next round of questioning. Sub-Captain Baker, may I ask some questions?”
“Go right ahead. I need a break, anyway. Eton, answer Dame Srilin’s questions, please.”
“You have already issued that command, Sub-Captain Baker.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Eton, you stated to Honorable Vidhee that you have input-output ports built in which allow for external connections. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Dame Srilin.”
“Do you have an interpretive matrix which allows you to analyse and utilize input from an external source?”
“Yes, Dame Srilin.”
“Are you capable of processing and incorporating inputted data and logic packets when performing logic decisions?”
“As long as nothing diminishes my ability to execute my first and second directives.”
“What do you think, Honorable Vidhee?”
“I think that it Is possible to insert an emotional matrix into the body of Eton, Captain Long. And connect it to Eton’s core through his read-only connections. However, I have not determined if Eton’s logic matrices will be able to utilize it.”
“Captain Long, I believe that we can upgrade Eton from a level two artificial intelligence to a level one.”
“I, also, Captain.”
“Yeah! We get our own Buster!”
“Without the combat skills, Mr. Briar.”
“Only a little bummer, Cap.”
“Honorable Vidhee, Dame Srilin, Sub-Captain, where do we go from here?”
“That depends on the availability of a suitable emotional matrix, Captain,” Vidhee answered. “Eton, you indicated that there exist androids with emotional matrices.”
“That is correct, Honorable Vidhee.”
“And you stated that these androids were single purpose androids, such as house managers, company managers and other support personnel.”
“That is correct, Engineer Srilin.”
“Captain Long, please have Eton transfer a detailed list of available Ballison emotional matrices, complete with definitions and descriptors to my memory banks.”
Vidhee held out her index finger and extended a connection port.
“Eton, did you understand Honorable Vidhee’s request?”
“Yes, Captain Long.”
“Please comply.”
Everyone watched as Eton first studied the connection on Vidhee’s finger. Then he pulled a cable from his chest. After plugging it into Vidhee’s finger, both Synthetics froze. Everyone waited for a few minutes.
“The requested information has been transferred, Captain Long.”
“Thank you, Eton. Honorable Vidhee?”
“The data file is well organized and very detailed, Captain. We should be able to find everything we need.”
“If we don’t find a suitable matrix, I will modify an Elonian emotional matrix to conform with the Ballisonian formats,“ Srilin added. “Then, we do the same to Eton that we did to Buster.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Nothing, Captain. Mz. Baker, would you please assist us?”
“Absolutely! If I’m going to spend the next couple of years with Eton, I need to get familiar with his workings.”
“Good. I will leave Eton in your capable paws, Honorable Vidhee, Dame Srilin. Ollie, let’s get out of their hair so that they can work.”
“Fur, Cap. Get out of their fur. They don’t have hair.”
“Very funny, Ollie. Get the shuttle ready. We are scheduled to pay Lord Kaporine a visit.”
“On it, Cap.”
Aboard Vengeance
Boredom floated through Vengeance as the bridge crew, the ship’s crew, the flight wings, and the marines all waited for someo
ne from the Sol System to do something. Vice-admiral Weiskoff, in his wardroom, variously sat, stood, paced, or wandered, attempting to will something to happen.
As the Vice-Admiral wished, something did happen. An excited comms specialist announced, “Frigg just came through the gate!”
Weiskoff raced to the bridge. Upon arriving, he dropped into his command chair and looked at Captain Brewer.
“Captain, Status?
“As soon as Frigg cleared the gate, she went weapons hot. We’ve been targeted.”
“Send friend-foe codes. Immediately!”
“They have already been sent, Admiral. We are waiting on a response.”
“Send them again!”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Vengeance’s Captain turned to his comms specialist.
“Mr. Conners, put the FOF on a continuous loop until we get a response.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Everyone on the bridge waited in fear and anticipation. Sensors Specialist Bradley worked his board, collecting and assessing Frigg’s combat stance.
Finally, they all heard the response.
“This is Federacy Space Force Destroyer Frigg. Mortek Cruiser, identify yourself!”
“FSF Vengeance, flagship of the Federacy Space Force, Frigg. Commanded by Captain Brewer. Onboard is Vice-Admiral Weiskoff, acting Fleet-Admiral of the Federacy Space Force.”
“Captain Fletcher, here. Nice to hear from you, Brewski.”
“Back at ya, Nock. Is the Old Man around? I’m betting that he’d like to hear from Number Three.”
Captain Brewer went sheepish when his designation for Vice-Admiral Weiskoff got the notorious glare. As this communication occurred, the unarmed and unarmored Hodr followed Frigg through the gate.
“Frigg is the armada flagship. He’s here, onboard. Shall I get him?”
“If you would, Nock.”
Vice-Admiral Weiskoff sat quietly and listened to the exchange. Upon learning that he would soon be speaking with his father, he mentally composed himself, secure in the knowledge of his successful conquering of the Mortek.
“Hello, Son. That’s quite a ship you have there.”
“Spoils of war, Father. The family, are they with you?”
“Don’t worry, Theodore. They’re all on their own ship. Money Gulper. I’ve got some security there, too.”
“Thank the stars.”
“I’ll have Paxton forward you the com link. You can contact them yourself, after they clear the gate. Now, where does the Federacy stand, Vice-Admiral? And, how did you get here ahead of us?”
“We defeated the Mortek, sir. Drove them back to the Yeni Persia system. Currently we have the gate blockaded.”
“Outstanding! What’s the butcher’s bill?”
“The Federacy Space Force is smashed, sir. The four Mortek cruisers we currently sail is all that remains. We are upgrading twelve Mortek frigates as we speak. That is the extent of it, sir.”
“What about the systems? Cencore?”
“The Mortek overran Cencore. They had taken over the stations and had turned them into platforms for manufacturing their own ships. We were able to liberate them.”
“How did you do that, Son?”
“Um, ah, do you remember Marston stealing the artifact?”
“Getting it back became your obsession.”
“Yes, well, it turns out that the artifact is a jump drive. We can instantaneously jump about three hundred lightyears.”
“Unbelievable. That’s how you got here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“This requires more discussion.”
“Sorry to interrupt, Fleet-Admiral.”
“What is it, Captain?”
“We have just sighted a four-ship convoy leaving Mars orbit, sir. It should be arriving within three hours.”
“That will be ships from the United Mars Colonial Republic, sir.”
“What do you know, Theodore?”
“I’ve been in contact with Mars, sir. We are in the process of opening a dialogue.”
“It is now fourteen-thirty bells. Be on Frigg by sixteen thirty, Vice-Admiral. If this is a delegation, I’m going to set up a meet. Bring your adjunct.”
“Yes, sir. About the comm link to Money Gulper?”
“They are being sent, now, Son.”
“Thank you, Father. See you in a few hours.”
Aboard UMCR Hightower One
As one of the seven Mars founding families, the Hightowers could lay claim to being one of the richest families in the entire Sol system. Old wealth on Earth still held the highest mantle, but the Hightowers competed with the wealthiest of them. And, being the first settled family on Mars, the Hightowers wielded great political power.
So, when the Federacy, after a hundred-year absence, made contact and Earth didn’t respond, it was the leader of the Hightower family which took control of negotiations.
With wealth beyond imagining, no expenses had been saved in the building of the Hightower diplomatic ship. If a luxury could be envisioned, it resided on Hightower one. Within the resident areas, not a pipe lay exposed, a conduit visible, a utility cabinet evident. The lone concession to space was the metal plates under the lush wood flooring. Without gravity, magnetic boots were needed to create a semblance of normalcy while travelling the blackness of Sol’s space.
When Lord Cedric Hightower called, everyone spent hours preparing the perfect set of clothing to wear onboard his ship and in his presence. Now, gathered in Hightower One’s formal conference room, richly dressed representatives from all seven Mars colonies stood around, talking, drinking, snacking, and wondering about the thousands of ships currently floating just outside of Saturn.
Lord Cedric, Chancellor of the United Mars Colonial Republic, approached his Nephew, Sir Reginald.
“Welcome, Reggie. I see you brought the lovely Victoria.”
“I thought you might want some support during your meeting with this Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff.”
“And his son. Apparently, his son is the one flying that strange ship. How are you feeling, Victoria? Ready for a little reading?”
“Yes, Chancellor. If they lie, I will know.”
“Same signals?”
“Of course, Sire.”
“Reggie, make sure that Victoria is well positioned. I want her to have direct lines of sight for both the Fleet-Admiral and his son.”
“And you, Uncle. So that you can see her signs. When are they due to arrive?”
“Their shuttle has just docked. They should be here any minute. Since we haven’t had contact with the Federacy in more than a hundred years, the people we are meeting are unknown quantities. I’m relying on you and Victoria to get a read on them, guide me through whatever games they are playing.”
“We’re ready, Uncle. Well, Victoria’s ready.”
“It’s time to do some rounds, check the temperature of the room.”
Sir Reginald and his Mars child, Victoria, moved off to one side, sipped their drinks and watched the throng.
“I’m picking up some very worried emotions from Chairwoman Blackwood. Something is going on that has raised her stress levels off the charts.”
“As the leader of the Blackwood colony, if she needs help, she will ask for it. Are you picking up anything else out of the norm?”
The empathetic Mars child continued her scanning of the room.
“No. just a lot of curiosity. Some greed. The normal lech of men and women staring at the serving staff. Chairman Musselman is being his normal, overly confident self.”
Sir Reginald, and Victoria looked at the tall, slender colony Chairman. They saw George Musselman being the only person in the room still wearing a hat, a broad-brimmed cowboy hat. That and the expensive, highly polished, real leather cowboy boots bespoke of his family’s history, coming from the Republic of Texas.
“Ah. Another day in the life of royalty. I’m so glad that I’ve been banned to my own dome.”
Everyone
turned to the large, mahogany double-doors as they swung open. The doorman stepped out of the way, giving space to the four people dressed in fully black, dress uniforms.
After handing his drink to a server, Lord Cedric stepped within five feet of the Federacy guests and stopped.
“Welcome to the United Mars Colonial Republic. I am Chancellor Hightower, and these are the representatives of the other six Mars colonies, along with their staff. With whom am I speaking?”
Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff looked over the people that the Chancellor had gestured towards, then back at his host.
“United Federacy Space Force Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff, sir. This is Vice-Admiral Weiskoff.”
“Your son?”
Lord Cedric’s question brought a scowl to the Fleet-Admiral’s face.
“Yes. But that has nothing to do with his capabilities.”
“Of course it doesn’t. I, myself, use my nephew as my second-in-command at times. I meant no disrespect. Are you hungry? Would you like to relax before we get started?”
“No, thank you, Chancellor. I have people who have been trapped in ships for almost a year. The sooner I bring them relief, the better.”
“Agreed.”
Lord Cedric turned to the room.
“Everyone take your seats, please. We will convene the meeting immediately.”
The colonial leaders began shuffling around, finding their chairs at the large conference table, based upon the power of their colonies. As the Musselman family had done for the last three centuries, the current Chairman took his place directly to the right of Chancellor Cedric. The adjuncts and staff took their places behind their individual leaders.
Lord Cedric gestured towards two chairs at one end of the oval table. Then he took his seat at the other end. Once seated, the Chancellor looked at his nephew. Reginald looked at Victoria. Victoria gave a small hand signal in return.
“Good.”
“Please, Fleet-Admiral. Although I have called this meeting, would you be so kind as to lead it?”
Once seated, everyone put on their best diplomatic hats and talked in the pomp that all politicians used. By then, servers had removed the detritus from the snacks and drinks and placed a sealed water container at each chair.
“Of course, Chancellor. First, a question. Apparently, this is a delegation from Mars. Will a delegation from Earth be arriving?”
Future in the Stars Page 18