Valyien Boxed Set 1

by James David Victor

  Eliard swallowed nervously. “Another reason I never wanted to join Armcore,” he muttered.

  “Pathetic,” Ponos pronounced. “Will any of you give up the whereabouts of Alpha, or do I have to send you to the interrogation chambers?” There was a shuffling of the elite guards, preparing to do their strange master’s bidding.

  “You mean you don’t know?” Eliard dared again. “How can you, with all your intelligence, not know where Alpha is?”

  “You do not have the intelligence to speak to me. Please do not do so again, Captain Martin,” Ponos said cattily.

  While the thing is probably right… El considered. He also didn’t see that he had anything to lose, either. “I was told where Alpha is. And maybe you’re right about my intelligence, because I bet if I know, then someone in Armcore does as well. There must be someone in this metal box with greater smarts than me, right?”

  Ponos paused, considering his reasoning. “You are indicating that the information has been held from me. By my own.”

  It was Cassandra’s turn to speak up. “House Archival knows.”

  “Interesting. Then you must be an Archival agent. Sent here to mine for secrets,” Ponos agreed. “Now tell me where my brother is, and I will be able to recapture him.”

  “If you want to do that,” Eliard mused. “But I bet that if you run a search of your computers, you will find that there has been an Armcore scout or drone sent out to the Sebopol trash-world.”

  The wires in Ponos’s neck twitched obscenely, and the head turned slowly back and forth across the visitors to its domain. “There has. I will update my commands to it immediately…” Another wobble from the head, as if it had seen something offensive.

  “I assume you’ve just discovered that you haven’t got clearance, right? That maybe even being an acting director or advisory general, or whatever it is they’ve said you are, hasn’t got the access,” Eliard crowed. “And you know why that is, don’t you? It’s because you’re not one of us. You’re a machine.” He took a step forward, grinning maliciously. “Biology trusts biology, not metal.”

  “Quiet!” roared a new voice, not coming from Ponos or from the elite guards. This time, it came from behind all of them, and it was surprisingly high-pitched, accompanied by the stamp of feet. Eliard and the others turned to see that two more lines of elite Armcore soldiers were tramping in, and between them floated a very round man with thinning, greasy hair, standing on a small gravitational platform. He wore a gold and black suit, bedecked with medals and insignia on the breast.

  “Is that who I think it is?” Eliard hissed.

  “Commander Tomas.” Ponos regarded him, not wavering as each and every other guard in the room not accompanying Senior Dane Tomas dropped to one knee with one hand across their chest. Their commander-in-chief paid them no heed whatsoever as he floated toward them.

  There are a LOT of guards around him, Eliard thought. An awful lot.

  “Ponos. What is going on here? Why didn’t you inform me of this intrusion?” Senior Tomas barked.

  “I am interrogating them, Senior. As per protocol,” Ponos replied.

  “Protocol,” Senior Tomas drawled. His eyes flickered to Eliard and his crew for just a moment, then flicked a hand toward them. “Seize them. Category D isolation cells for everyone.”

  Ten of the guards at the front immediately broke off from the retinue to start surrounding Eliard, Val, and Cassandra.

  “Halt!” This counter-order came from Ponos itself, not from the senior. The guards paused, looking uncertain. “I do not think that this would be a profitable course of action, Senior,” it said tartly.

  “Really?” The commander paused, and Eliard saw that the man did actually value this machine’s opinion. Perhaps he relies on it too much, Eliard wondered.

  “Completely. They have revealed to me the location of the missing technology, and I have already dispatched the two nearest war cruisers to that location,” Ponos said. “I think that I can also retrieve more information out of them about their purpose and their employers.”

  “Oh, Ponos, the company interrogators can do all of that...” Senior licked his lips nervously. “And which war cruisers? Who are their generals?”

  “The company interrogators will not be able to retrieve the information as well as I can, clearly. The protocol mandates that the best person is matched to the job. Which would be me.”

  “The generals, Ponos!” Tomas barked at the thing.

  “…which does beg the question if you also believed that I was not the right person to apprehend the technology directly, as a clipper-scout under the control of Captain Farlow has already been sent out to apprehend it,” Ponos said.

  “Yes. Are you questioning my orders, Ponos?” Tomas scowled.

  “No, sir. I have sent the names and the communication addresses of the generals and their war cruisers to your station,” Ponos said politely, turning to the guards encircling Eliard and the others. “Apprehend these three and take them to Maintenance Gallery Seven. Secure them appropriately so they cannot do themselves or me any damage.”

  “Aye, sir.” The guards looked between Tomas and Ponos warily, before seizing Eliard, Val, and Cassandra and dragging them out of the gallery.

  15

  A Superior Intelligence, Part 2

  “Wow. Now that went well, didn’t it?” Eliard hissed angrily, sitting on the floor with his ankles shackled with magnetic links to the floor, and his wrists cuffed with another set in his lap. His back hurt from sitting in this position already, and he was starting to wonder if maybe he should start refusing the offer of money for highly dangerous jobs.

  Maybe that metal appendage was right, he thought dismally. I have a reckless personality. Was that why his life was a mess? Why he had decided it was better to steal from Trader Hogan than to do his bidding? Why he had even stolen the Mercury Blade in the first place, all of those years ago?

  No. The Blade was his baby and his pride. Ever since he had first flown it in his father’s flight stables, he had never wanted to be anywhere else but behind the ship’s wheel, racing along the flats of his home world or out in space. The Mercury Blade was built by master shipbuilders. It was a thing of beauty. It was freedom made into physical form.

  And it was also one hell of a way to get out of a miserable future as a Coalition officer. He had only done two years at the Trevalyn Academy, but that had been two too many. After that would have been the passing out of examinations, and then he would have done some mandatory Armcore service before returning to his father’s court as a ‘prepared’ officer, ready to fight for the Coalition and House Martin.

  Nah. Eliard shook his head. He could never have done that. He could never have stood at his father’s right hand and watch as he drank another liter of Venusian wine or leered at the serving girls. After his mother had died, Lord Martin had grown harsh, and cruel. His shouting tirades had turned into backhanded slaps, and finally beatings to the young Eliard. Did the old man think that training me at the academy would make me any better?

  So, he was left with where he was. Here, now. Sitting on the metal deck, looking out at the glowing, pulsing core of Armcore Prime once more, but this time from one of the gallery openings several flights down. Their guards had dragged them in here, dismissed the other elite soldiers, and attached the prisoners to the floor before leaving. Behind them was the exact same setup as the gallery they had snuck into before. The ceramic pipes, the wide and cold metal floors.

  And now we wait for Ponos to interrogate us, El thought. “But hey, at least the thing doesn’t have any arms, right?” He cracked a crooked smile to the others beside him. “Like, how bad can just asking questions be?”

  “You have never been asked questions by someone of my intelligence, clearly.” Ponos’s head rose from the core ahead of them.

  “Dammit. I wish it would stop doing that. It’s just plain creepy, is what it is,” Eliard muttered.

  “Release us, metal snake!” Val r
oared at it.

  “Now, Pathok, I don’t think that…” Eliard started to say.

  “I was actually going to suggest the same thing. If your large friend here will promise not to do anything rash,” Ponos said genially.

  “What?” Eliard looked at him in surprise.

  “I mean to release you, Captain Eliard. You and your crew. But I must have your word, on the honor of your ship, that you will do as I say,” Ponos stated. “I believe that you captains place quite a bit of meaning upon your ship’s honor?”

  El glared at it. “How does it know me so well?”

  “It’s an artificial intelligence. It knows you five ways to the sun and back,” Cassandra hissed at him. “Promise,” she suggested.

  “I don’t know what it is I am agreeing to yet,” El said. If there was anything he did know, then it was to always check the terms of the contract first.

  “I will not lead you into harm intentionally, although you will be facing danger. You will promise not to attack me or this station for the duration of your time here, and I will free you.”

  “Free? As in, free to go?” Val grunted.

  “Yes. Free to leave. Agreed?” Ponos stated.

  The three conferred and then one by one, nodded that this was acceptable. “On my ship’s honor,” Eliard stated.

  “Good.” At that moment, the magnetic shackles holding them unclicked and fell off, allowing Eliard to groan and massage his sore joints.

  “You will follow my directions, forwarded to your wrist computer, and then you will leave this station,” Ponos stated.

  “Is that it? Why?” Eliard asked. There had to be a catch with this kind of deal. There always was.

  “No, my less than erudite Captain. That is not ‘it’,” Ponos stated. “I have conducted a survey of the situation, accessing what remote satellites are available to one such as I, and I have discovered that an Armcore vessel has been dispatched to the Sebopol worlds, and has since returned under a distress signal.”

  “Did they find Alpha?” Cassandra asked hurriedly. “What did they do to it?”

  “That is none of your concern, Agent,” Ponos stated.

  “You’re scared,” Val grunted. “If you weren’t scared, then you wouldn’t have a reason to hide what you know.”

  “I do not get scared, Gunner Pathok,” Ponos said. “I merely make assessments for the glory of Armcore.”

  Eliard pointed a finger at it. “And I bet that one of those assessments you’ve made is this: your senior hid this information from you because he doesn’t trust you. And you’ve realized that Alpha is a superior intelligence to you. You’re stuck here, tied to this core, but it has all of data-space to grow and develop in. A superior intelligence like Alpha can only be a threat to something like you. If Armcore convinced it to come home, or if this ship has managed to capture it somehow, then you must know that your days are numbered, Ponos. Why keep an outdated version of the software when you can just upgrade, after all?” Eliard took a step toward the triangular eye. “You’ve been replaced.”

  “If it is my time to be discontinued, then I have no reservations about that, human,” Ponos stated evenly. “Unlike you biologicals, I have no fear of death. Any system which has a malfunction or no longer serves a purpose should be discontinued.”

  Cassandra took up the thread, advancing on Ponos from the other side. “But you’re not malfunctioning, are you, Ponos? Check your systems. Is there any reason why you should be deleted? Any area that you have not performed with a hundred percent efficiency?”

  “No,” Ponos agreed.

  “Then are you really outdated? Were you not built for Armcore?” Cassandra pointed out. “And can you trust the program directives that a hybrid intelligence like Alpha will have? Does ancient Valyien motives match up with Armcore mission directives?”

  “It would be impossible to calculate that, considering that there is so data on what the Valyien were, or how they operated as a cultural body.”

  “Then…” Cassandra led the artificial intelligence to the only logical decision. “You have to conclude that Armcore is best served by you, and not something that may not even share its ethos!”

  “You have a certain amount of intelligence, Agent,” Ponos conceded. “And fortunately for you, I have already considered this dilemma, which is why I am freeing you now, to perform a task for the good of Armcore.”

  “Are you offering us a job?” Eliard hissed. The thought of working for the one company that he had spent most of his life fighting was almost ridiculous.

  “No. I am offering you a path to your freedom,” Ponos continued. “I have analyzed all possible strategic outcomes, and there is no way that you will ever leave this station alive or free unless you accept my conditions.”

  “Which are?” Eliard growled, his eyes scanning the back of the room. I’m still getting paid a cool million by House Archival for this, so at least I’ll get something out of this madness…

  “I want you to kill Alpha.”

  “Now, wait a minute, tin-can…” Eliard said hurriedly.

  “Eliard, hear it out,” Val grunted, massaging his hurting wrists.

  “Well, I’m not surprised that you want the chance for a fight, Val,” the captain said, but he was already shaking his head. “No. No way. Do you have any idea who you are talking to, Ponos? I’m a smuggler, a pilot. I’m not one of your military commandoes.”

  “I know precisely whom I am speaking to, Captain Eliard Martin, and that is why I am asking you, your ship, and your crew,” Ponos said. “You scored in the top five percent during your tenure at Trevalyn Academy, and through an analysis of your previous exploits, I have discovered that you consistently manage to survive situations with less than a thirty percent predicted chance of survival.”

  “I’m lucky, I guess,” Eliard said. “But the answer is still a no.”

  “Then in that case, your ‘luck,’ as you call it, has finally run out. I shall alert Senior Tomas and the guards, and you will be taken to isolation cells where you will eventually go mad and die,” Ponos said, and then with a note of cruelty, it added, “Criminals have been known to spend years in the isolation cells before they finally die. I believe that it is considered quite an unfortunate death by other biological lifeforms.”

  “You great, big…” Eliard hissed.

  “Wait!” Cassandra laid a restraining hand on his arm. “Just listen. The idea of killing Alpha serves us all, right?”

  “Listen to the agent, Captain. She, at least, operates at the higher end of the intelligence spectrum.”

  Eliard swore under his breath, but he raised his chin all the same. “Alright. I’m listening.”

  “You, Captain Eliard, and your crew aboard the Mercury Blade are outside the normal operating parameters of any Armcore vessel. This is a benefit where you will be heading, as even Armcore will have difficulty in accessing what I have to ask you to do.”

  “Cut to the chase, robot,” Eliard said sullenly.

  “I will endeavor to supply you with what equipment you will need, but the desirability of your position is that you are unaffiliated to Armcore, so therefore my help can only be limited,” Ponos continued.

  “You don’t want anyone to realize that you’re helping us, you mean,” Eliard paraphrased.

  “The hybrid intelligence known as Alpha will also have predicted and analyzed my movements against it, and so it will be expecting an Armcore counter-attack and will have prepared weapons and defenses sufficient to stop our military powers. You, Captain Eliard, and your crew will be an unpredictable dataset, especially given your talent for high variable situations.”

  “Because I’m lucky, you mean,” Eliard stated.

  “Luck is an illusion. Some people, such as yourself, are merely more capable at analyzing minority and less-than-probable variables and acting on them,” Ponos said.

  “Putting it like that, you suck all the fun out of it.” The captain shuddered.

  “All evidence
points to the fact that there is a device that is responsible for the station-burning of Adiba 5,” Ponos stated.

  “Adiba 5? Where have I heard that name?” Eliard asked himself.

  “It’s an old ghost story,” Cassandra filled him in. “The Adiba System is a mere collection of outlier worlds right on the fringe of human-explored space. The Coalition set up the Adiba stations there as a way to stake their territory, but when they came back a cycle later, the entire station was burned out. Not a single survivor, and no scans or data recovery could indicate the source of the fire or explosion. Everyone blamed the Q’Lot.”

  “Indeed, Agent,” Ponos continued. “What most regular citizens do not know is that for the last few years, Armcore has indeed discovered what caused that destruction, and it is code-named the Device. It may be strong enough to destroy Alpha, if you can retrieve it.”

  “Are you being quite serious right now?” Captain Eliard almost laughed. “Why doesn’t Armcore just get a hold of it and use it on Sebopol?”

  “Because Alpha will have already predicted that outcome, of course. But Alpha will not have been able to predict that a low-probability pirate captain will attack it with the Device,” Ponos stated. “I have sent the coordinates to your ship. You will retrieve the Device, and you will use it on Alpha’s newly colonized home world of Sebopol.”

  “But what about the Armcore vessel that went to Sebopol before? Didn’t they kill or capture Alpha?” Cassandra asked.

  “My readings of the war cruiser The Crown, which they are on, shows no unusual power telemetries, and they do not appear to have upgraded their computer systems in the past eighteen months. I can only conclude that they would be unable to contain such an intelligence as Alpha,” Ponos replied. “And the ship complement is missing one man, a Captain Farlow. Other strategic decisions in the area, the arrival of more support ships, does not indicate that my brother has been destroyed.”