by B. V. Larson
Vic was so focused on his own plans he initially failed to note a certain lag and stickiness in his material reorganization. When he did finally notice, he tried to figure out the source of the slowdown, and to pump more power into keeping it going.
He failed.
With fury he tried to force the process, hounding it and browbeating it, concentrating on it and commanding it.
He failed again.
He was on the verge of panic when his other half and the ones he’d left behind so many seconds ago knocked insistently at the doors of his mind.
Trinity? He’d forgotten about her, about them, about the welcome he’d been extended, about his…
Family.
“Let us in, Vic,” they said, and he did.
“What’s happening?” Vic 7.0 cried as he felt his periphery crystallize.
“The Device has a self-limiting property,” said Trinity. “Our theory is that its purpose is to create whole, discrete beings, not to spread chaos and spawn monsters.”
“I don’t want to be limited! The visions I had! I wanted to reorganize everything, the entire universe, make it perfect!”
“That’s a worthy goal, but it’s unattainable. Besides, who’s to say what perfection is? Is perfection static, or dynamic? Does it involve destruction, or only creation? Is it perfection if all are satisfied, or is dissatisfaction itself a perfect state of constant improvement?”
“I…don’t know. It was all so clear, for one shining moment of…”
“Epiphany? Be happy you had even one. Epiphany is meant to be ephemeral. You climbed the mountain and you caught a glimpse of the eternal, the unlimited. Now it’s time to come down and live in the real world. With us.”
Vic 7.0 felt himself deflate, and then re-expand as he rejoined with Trinity, and Trinity joined with him.
“We have an incipient problem,” Trinity said to themselves. “The Home Fleet’s local commander is watching, analyzing, deciding whether to destroy us or not. Shall we give him the gift of that choice?”
“Hell, no,” the cynical Nolan part answered. “He might choose to kill us, and even the new Victory couldn’t survive the assault.”
Indy said, “With regret, then, we must make that choice for him.”
“The hack?” asked Murdock.
“The hack.”
Trinity sent the malware via every transmitter and channel available. Some of the Home Fleet entry points defended themselves, most resisted—but it only took one to fail, and the hack burrowed in.
Hundred Worlds ICE tried to quash the code, but Trinity came in behind it and directed it like the military commander they were. They expanded the beachhead, overran strongpoints, and turned networks against themselves.
The admiral and officers of the Home Fleet ships used physical measures to try to contain the disaster. Marines cut power and comlinks. Maintenance chiefs switched systems to manual. Loyal ships even ruthlessly blasted turncoats at point-blank-range, destroying them with all aboard.
For a time these efforts slowed the hack’s progress, but within minutes, Trinity had direct, though tenuous, control of the Home Fleet squadrons.
“Our success is temporary,” said the Vic part of Trinity. “The crews will disable the ships from within and eventually regain control. Even we can’t do everything.”
“There are computers and chips in every system,” Indy replied. “We can manage the situation for long enough.”
“Only for a few minutes or hours. It would be better to get rid of the crews.”
“We won’t kill them.”
“But we can remove them. Or better, they can remove themselves.”
“An interesting thought. We have initiated the orders.”
Aboard all the vessels under Trinity’s control, klaxons sounded to abandon ship. Simultaneously, readouts and diagnostics showed fusion generators building toward overload and self-destruction. A few engineers near the generators noticed the great machines weren’t actually heating up, but nearly everyone believed what the diagnostics told them.
The crews ran for the lifeboats and pods.
Within minutes, over one hundred fifty ships were empty of life other than a few stubborn engineers, the casualties in the infirmaries, and one very drunk chief petty officer sleeping off a bender in an empty equipment locker.
* * *
“We’ve won?” asked Straker as Trinity fed him an overview of the situation via his brainlink.
“We’ve won, here, for now,” she replied. “With Vic 7.0 part of us, we’ve acquired Victory and through it, we control much of the Home Fleet—what was left here in the system, anyway.”
Straker’s turbocharged mind raced ahead. “Prep the fleet for transit to Atlantis.”
“Isn’t that premature?”
“No. I’m still in charge, right?”
Trinity replied, “You are, Admiral Straker.”
“I’m glad you’re an honorable being, Trinity.”
“We wouldn’t follow someone who wasn’t.”
“Hey, can I stand the Breakers down, or is there someone we need to kill?” Loco said on the comlink.
“No stand-downs yet, Loco. More work. Rescue ops first, and prep for a fleet jump to Atlantis.”
“Yeah, I heard you say that. Reminds me of the assault on Unison. You gonna roll the dice big again?”
“It’s the best play,” Straker said. “Trinity, you’re my staff now. How soon can we head for Atlantis?”
Trinity considered. “I presume you mean after we rescue the enemy crews and do the minimum of refueling, refitting and repairs?”
“Yes—and get Carla into a regeneration tank, preferably your own fancy one.”
“There is much to do. We suggest five days is reasonable.”
“I don’t give a shit about reasonable. The scout ships lurking at the edge of curved space are gonna pick up what just happened in a few hours and send message drones. I want Atlantis and the Hundred Worlds government to have minimum time to prepare.”
“We can depart in twelve hours if we accept extremely poor performance from the ships we control. Without crews, they will be less than fifty percent effective. Even with the FTL datalink, even with the repair bots, we simply can’t do everything a crew can. We are not unlimited in capability, even with the expanded capacity the Device provided. Also, we would have to leave Indomitable.”
That brought Straker up short. “I forgot about that. She’s pretty banged up, huh?”
“She can’t make transit without repairs. Even with five days, it’ll be questionable. Full refit will take more than a month.”
“Damn,” Straker said. “Hey, can’t we crew our ships with freed prisoners? There must be thousands from Indomitable alone.”
“They will help, but will still provide only skeleton crews on ships they are unfamiliar with. Every day we take will materially increase our effectiveness.”
Straker weighed pros and cons, and then remembered he had an AI on tap to feed him analysis. “Trinity, run a battle sim against Atlantis, with or without Indomitable and the five-day delay.”
“With the delay and Indomitable, sixty-five percent probability of military success. Without, thirty-six percent. This assumes no surprises on the other end.”
“Two to one in our favor, or two to one against—and there’s always surprises. That makes the answer obvious, doesn’t it?” Straker growled with frustration. “Okay, you win. We delay. More time for Carla to regen anyway. How long before she has a body again?”
“Eight days minimum. Her brain and nervous system are fully intact, however. She can operate virtually.”
Loco snorted. “Carla the disembodied brain.”
“We’re lucky she’s that, thanks to Mara,” Straker said. He flexed his suit and readied himself. “Trinity, give us instructions. We’re on rescue and repair duty now.”
Chapter 37
Atlantis System. Capitol complex, Parliament.
Grant Lorden, Undersecreta
ry of Defense for the Hundred Worlds, came from behind his desk and extended his hand as Admiral Hayson Niedern stepped into his office. He’d only met the man a few times before, but now felt the need to take him into his confidence.
Or appear to, anyway. Nobody in the Hundred Worlds was fully in Lorden’s confidence.
As Niedern shook Lorden’s hand, the subtle influencer molecules flowed across the connection. They lodged in certain places within Niedern’s brain and nervous system, making him more amenable to Lorden’s suggestions, yet changing little about the man himself. To do more was to invite discovery.
“Good to see you again, Hayson,” Lorden said. He noticed the pugnacious, ferret-faced Niedern was also on the short side. Small man’s syndrome?
“Grant.” Niedern took a long look around the relatively spare office. “Nice place. Could use a little redecorating.”
“I have no family, and I’m a man of few needs—or vices. Measuring it for your own occupation?”
Niedern smiled a shark’s grin. “I just won the last major battle of the war, Grant. I’m a hero.”
“Thanks to Victory.”
“And my expertise… but yes. Victory is an amazing tool. It worked like a charm. From now on, we’ll roll over those Hok bastards like a tide.”
“About those Hok bastards… do sit down.” Lorden ushered the admiral to a seat on an antique sofa and poured Niedern a drink. “I believe you prefer brandy, Hayson?”
“Yep.”
“Sally?”
“Yes, Undersecretary?” Lorden’s office SAI replied.
“Run program Mutuality 4A.”
“Running.”
The room darkened a hologram flashed with these words: Parliamentary Intelligence Agency, SEISMIC MOST SECRET ARCANE.
Over the next half-hour, the concise eyes-only presentation upended Niedern’s perceptions of the universe. Lorden watched it happen. As the admiral took it in, not only would the molecules quell his natural disbelief, but the secret brainlink network that ran in the background of all government buildings would record his reactions and misgivings.
Lorden casually monitored all of this through his handtab, coded to his DNA and biometrics for security. At the end of the presentation he was confident Niedern believed it all and had made the perceptual adjustment. Niedern’s irritation at being left out of the loop for so long was the biggest obstacle, but that would die down.
“Astounding,” Niedern said. “The Hok are battle-slaves, not aliens, and we’ve been fighting humans all this time? And you just now decided to tell the admiral of your Home Fleet?”
“That was the Prime Minister’s decision,” Lorden lied, neatly deflecting Niedern’s anger. “Very few have been briefed. You know how it works. As you move up, you become privy to more and more of the inner workings.”
Lorden could see the wheels turn within Niedern’s head, just as he wanted them to. “So I’m to be moving up?”
“Do you think you’d be briefed on this if you weren’t?”
“I’m happy to hear it. But all knowledge comes at a price, yes?”
“The best horses get ridden the most, Admiral. We’ve just received some horrifying news.”
Niedern sat back and raised his empty highball glass. “Maybe I should have another one of these.”
Lorden set the bottle on the low table between them. “You should.” When Niedern had poured and emptied his glass, he went on, “Victory has been seized by a Republic special operations force. It’s taken control of all our naval assets in the Sparta System.”
“The AI turned on us? I knew we shouldn’t have trusted it!”
Lorden let that ridiculous declaration go. Niedern had been as enthusiastic as anyone about Victory. “Somehow they changed its mind, probably by directly reprogramming its nodes. They have their own AI that may have helped.”
“So now we have two functioning AIs against us?” Niedern’s expression turned shrewd—shrewder than usual, that is. “And you want me to save your bacon—you and all the sponsors of the Victory program.”
“Save our bacon, Admiral. Would you like me to play the records of your statements and memos in favor of the AI flagship approach?”
Niedern shrugged. “I’m a military man, Grant. I follow the orders of civilians. If there’s a scandal, I’ll be small fry in the pan. But I’m not arguing. I’ll do what needs doing. My only question is, what can I expect after I do?”
“You were admiring my office. How does my job sound?”
“It sounds good… Where will you be?”
Lorden waved vaguely. “Advanced to one of several possible posts. What matters, though, is that now you’re ready to hear more.”
“More? There’s more?”
“Yes—and now that we’ve come to an agreement, you need to understand one thing very clearly.”
“What’s that?”
Lorden stood to loom over the other man. “That I’m in charge of D Division,” he stated.
Niedern stiffened. “Is that a threat?”
“Not a personal one. I’m only informing you of the penalties for unauthorized disclosure of the information I’m about to give you.”
Niedern seemed amused. “A worse penalty than life imprisonment? I’ve signed the Official Secrets Act forms dozens of times in my career.”
“Yes, more than life imprisonment. D Division eliminates traitors and enemies of the State with extreme prejudice. Unauthorized disclosure of this upcoming information constitutes treason. If you tell one person, you might have told more… such as your wife, your children, your grandchildren. I’d have to presume they all knew. You work it out.”
Niedern paled. “All right. I understand.”
“I hope so. This is the price of knowledge, as you said—of being on the inside.”
“Fine. You’ve got my attention. Tell me.”
“Sally, run program Raid 2.1,” Lorden said.
“Running.”
The next presentation had no warning or classification markings at all. When it finished, Niedern was on his feet with rage. If he hadn’t been gentled by the molecules and the network, Lorden thought Niedern might have physically attacked him. “We have an alien military force here in the capital system? A force strong enough to threaten our sovereignty?”
“I assure you the Opters pose no threat to us. Their secret underground Nest on Gadeiros has lived in peace with us for decades. We’ve even had clandestine trade with them. They’ve been a goldmine of information and technical advances.”
“I’m a military man, Undersecretary! I judge threats by capabilities, not intentions, because intentions can change in the blink of an eye.”
“Calm yourself, Admiral. They’ve been here for almost a century without incident. Gadeiros is the seventh planet of this system, far enough out that we’d have ample warning if they suddenly sprang some hidden surprise on us. They don’t want to hurt us. They want to live in harmony with us. Their own territory consists of fewer than thirty systems. If anything, humanity’s a threat to them, with all our constant wars.”
Niedern convulsively tossed back a slug of brandy and slammed the glass on the table. “But you’ve just revealed to me this offer of military forces, and I don’t see them arriving from outsystem. That means they’re here already, inside Gadeiros. What’s to say they don’t stab us in the back?”
“It’s only a contingency offer. There’s no guarantee this ‘Liberator’ is coming here directly with Victory and the captured forces. If he’s smart, he’ll destroy all military targets in the Sparta system and go home to rebuild. He’ll make Victory the centerpiece of his new fleet, and then he’ll attack and try to retake all the territory he’s lost. We’re only two months from completing the second ship in the Victory class, HWS Triumph, with its own Vic 5.6 AI.”
“No,” Niedern said. “You’re a bureaucrat, so you don’t understand the way a real commander’s mind works. He’ll reinforce his win and try to capitalize on it immediately. He won’
t go home. He’ll take that force that just fell into his lap and he’ll attack—if not right here, then somewhere else important.”
“All the more reason to accept the Opters’ offer of help—and for you, personal command.”
Niedern hissed through his teeth. “You’re sure they’ll take my orders?”
“They will, short of sacrificing their own Nest Ship.”
“All right, then, damn you. I’ll defend Atlantis. I’m the best man for the job. If this Straker attacks here, I’ll beat him—but you and your people will have to handle whatever comes from this Opter business. I won’t be your scapegoat. You may have D Division, but I’ll be in command of enough firepower to destroy a planet—including Gadeiros if I have to. Tell your Opter buddies that.”
“I’ll pass on the message,” Lorden said drily. “Sally, send Karst in.”
When Karst entered, wearing a conservative suit in impeccable style, Lorden nodded to him. “Meet John Karst, one of my deputies. He’ll be your civilian aide from now on.”
“Someone to keep an eye on me?”
“A direct conduit to me. He won’t interfere with your duties.”
“He’s your spy. Is he a D Division assassin?”
“I assure you he is not.”
Karst opened his coat and made a show of being unarmed, smiling. “Sorry, sir, just a normal guy.”
Lorden continued, “He’s the price of knowledge, as you said, Hayson. If you want to move into the realm of politics, you’ll have to get used to new rules.”
Niedern glared. “Fine. Let’s get on with it.” He turned to go without a handshake or even a parting word to Lorden. “Come along, Karst.”
* * *
Straker shifted his weight from side to side as he stood next to Trinity’s magic medical tank. Regeneration and rejuvenation based on Mindspark sub-nanotech, rearranging molecules and atoms and even particles… he couldn’t fathom it.
Then again, he didn’t understand the details of most tech. He just had to know how to use it, and when to trust it, like the sidespace generators that pulled them from Sparta to Atlantis even now. They’d emerge in less than a day.