Ships of Valor 1: Persona Non Grata

by Aaron Kennedy

  My little breakdown after moving the sloop had him thinking I had redlined, and despite my assurance uncontrollable laughter was how I jetted stress, he was having none of it. So we argued. But we argued while we worked. The problem with arguing with a computer is they have all the information. They’re also able to pick apart any flaws in the logic chain. The reverse is AI don’t usually have the same flaws, so even if he made them I wouldn’t catch them until much later.

  The one piece of ground he left me was the importance of the mission, changing the argument from being about me to being about Luna and even Terra. The discussion became purely quantitative at that point. How much was my life worth in comparison to others? “Ari, I know you. I do not know them.” It was a pragmatic outlook. Wrong, but pragmatic. I reminded him he also knew Lysha, and the General, as well as everyone they knew, and so forth.

  Heart disliked thinking about relationship complexities past people he personally knew. The potentialities were painful for him. His ability to extrapolate the future forced him to deal with issues of life and death. I’m not sure how many people he had known during his sentience, but from what I had gathered, all of his original crew was gone. My bringing those past friends up was a dirty trick and I knew it. “So what do we do? Our mission intent was reconnaissance. Our encounter makes that not feasible. If our foe was able to identify our arrival time, we must assume they can identify you, Ari. The mission is important, but so are you. How much risk is acceptable?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that. I’ve always leaned towards not over-thinking the problem if I can avoid it. Deal with the closest problem first, and then shift to the next one. Our current problem was our position in the ocean, and getting me ashore. I wasn’t unaware of all the issues ahead of me but I considered them a were a low priority for the moment.

  I had a bit of tunnel vision and Heart was right to point out that particular failing. Our initial plan was ruined and we needed a rough outline of something new. We were no longer able to land and allow me to act as a tourist. Instead of passively fading into a crowd, my goal was shifted to something far more active. Not only would we have to get me ashore, but we had to keep a low enough profile once I was there the mission wasn’t instantly compromised again.

  Heart and I had been trying to work out the best plan to no avail. Back when I was in the Legion, we’d have teams develop a few different ideas, and the old man would pick the top three for further development. We’d split off into groups, refine the options, and based on those select the best. The nice part of that process was the back-ups if things went to hell. We could swap gears because we already had ideas. Unfortunately, our situation was so far outside of the current mission, we couldn’t use anything we had already thought about. At least not yet.

  Our other issue was with only the two of us, we weren’t able to make the same kind of leaps needed to come up with something completely new. Heart is amazingly smart. His very presence reminded how much smarter than me he was. But his intelligence is evolved around the human standard. He thinks like us, meaning although he had infinitely more access to data, and could compute it faster, he fell within the human spectrum of intelligence. He managed to explain the idea to me once, without making me feel too stupid.

  “Imagine gears and cogs. Each one has to connect in sequence. If one is going too fast, or too slow they won’t connect properly to the one next to it. My personality, the gear making me, me, is set near human speed. It connects to other systems, which run progressively faster, like my communications array or even my hyperspace drive. I am not in direct control of those systems, much as you aren’t always in control of your breathing or blinking. They are things I can do, but not things I must consciously think about. The processes happen far too fast.”

  “Another way of looking at it is like a city full of roads. You and I can both go to the same places inside the city, but I can get there faster and visit more places in the same amount of time. My limitation is not my speed, but the data I have access to. You could eventually come to the same destinations; it will just take you significantly longer.” He paused for a moment. “For me to truly exceed your capabilities, I would require additional inputs to reach the next level. However, if that were to happen, I do not know we would be able to communicate anymore.” He sounded less enthused about that idea than anything else. I would have imagined it would be great to be smarter, but he made it sound downright lonely.

  It made me question whether we could have multiple versions of him attempting to come up with plans. “Unfortunately, no, I do not have that kind of power or even hardware. It would require reallocating space, then fragment my personality, and attempt to duplicate it through the new space. I am not comfortable with that idea. It would be like two of me existing in a single shell. But beyond that, which would be the real me, and how would we merge them back together?” That was a scary thought. The last thing we wanted was an AI with split personality disorder. People with mental conditions were rough enough. I was positive having a computer with one would be a bad deal.

  With that option off the table, we were left us with trying to come up with ideas by ourselves. It did allow us to stall and hopefully reinforce the idea we were gone to the outside world. This was a double-edged blade because added quite a bit of safety, but neither of us wanted our friends back home to think we were gone. We were almost hoping the word of our demise hadn’t reached back yet. Radio silence had always been part of the operation, so perhaps with a little luck, we hadn’t put Lysha through some unnecessary heartbreak.

  Although I thought about her constantly, I always shoved those thoughts down hard. She was a distraction, which could risk Heart and me if we didn’t stay vigilant. The little things kill, not the big ones. The big ones are easy to spot and easily avoided. Unless it’s missiles flying while trying to make planet-fall. Those aren’t quite as easy.

  Perhaps that was the key. Changing the way, I thought. After fifty years, my thought patterns were so ingrained to the point of indoctrination. Maybe if I could think like Lysha or General Campbell, I could come up with something different. I’d love to say I could put myself in the female mind, but girls have been a mystery to me since I was old enough to realize there were girls.

  Having spent a solid fifteen minutes trying, I swapped to the general. I figured I would have much better luck imagining myself older and smarter. Putting myself in his shoes was easier if only slightly. I didn’t know him as well, not by a longshot, but he was a personal hero and I knew a lot about him. Taking his personal history and replacing my own, I decided to think of the problem logistically instead of operationally. Our situation was no longer a case of what we wanted to do; it was a case of what we could do with the assets available.

  Our old plan relied on many conditions that weren’t true any longer. So what conditions were static? What could we leverage? No sooner had I said it aloud than Heart caught my logic chain than a strategy started to form.

  Chapter 19

  The sloop was only slightly less cramped than my previous time. Although I wasn’t kitted up, we had jammed up what little space was available with the best communications gear available. Heart was going to stay as deep as he could in the Kermadec to minimize his chances of being spotted while getting as close to New Zealand as possible. We had slowly decreased our depth until we could use Terra networks. A risky but calculated move. We hoped a single random user couldn’t be spotted. The alternative to leaving the trench was locating one of the older sea-based cables and attempting to tap into them, but Heart estimated we would be spotted far more easily, both physically and electronically.

  Our theory was the sloop’s upgraded system would be able to relay Heart to me. There might be the tiniest of lag due to punching a signal through salt water, but it was far better than not having him at all. I had grown accustomed to his presence and losing him at that juncture would have left me crippled.

  Without an environmental suit, being outside Heart�
��s skin at our previous depth was dangerous. The previous jaunt in the sloop was only possible because of many precautions, limited time, and pure necessity. So we had to bring Heart and the sloop up to a much safer depth. The Kermadec was over ten kilometers at its deepest. Our hover point was closer to three-k. The sloop would take me down to five-hundred meters without real issue, even without a suit, but there was a question of whether Heart would become visible at that point.

  The other issue was the sloop wasn’t designed to scrub air. Sure, it could seal and be used in space or the ocean because of its shields, but it only had a limited supply of breathable Oxygen. We could stay below water for about three hours before having to surface. A suit would fix that, but would add other complications when I reached my destination. So we were relying on a fine balance of getting high enough in the water to where the pressure was safe, and then staying under as long as possible as well. Salt water was our friend when it came to stealth, but our enemy when coming to safety. We were teetering elements of risk, trying to find a perfect level.

  Heart and I followed the trench as far south as possible while getting as close as possible to the eastern coast of New Zealand. After surfacing, the sloop’s speed would make travel to the north island fairly simple. New Zealand didn’t have nearly the same population as our original destination near Perth on Oceana, but making landfall would give us lots of other options. It became a quantity versus quality argument.

  When we began moving again, we had shifted back to where our internal gravity matched Terra’s. A normal submarine would use buoyancy mechanics to maintain position, whereas Heart was using his angrav drives instead. He could maneuver however he pleased and not worry about how Terran gravity would affect me. As we ascended, it became simpler to match everything up. Dealing with reversed directions wasn’t difficult for him, but it was downright disconcerting for me as I had to consciously think about it.

  Because the sloop didn’t have rear directionals and we weren’t sure how its sublights would respond in the water we decided to try a parabolic exit from Heart’s loading bay. In theory, the exit would be simple. He would ascend to about fifty meters, do an aileron roll, open his bay for me to pop out of the bottom, and then he would dive back down to the safety of the depths. Since he would only be at that depth for a few seconds, our risk of detection should be minimal. The sloop itself was insignificant in comparison, and the goal was to beeline to shore as soon as I surfaced.

  Given enough time, we could have linked the control, navigation, and communication systems together but would have required going well outside my area of knowledge. The sloop was a pet project to Heart but never intended for actual flight by anyone else. Much like the model planes I built when I was a kid. Time was our enemy and the sloop was the best option. We could have spent the next month upgrading the sloop so Heart had the ability to control it remotely and taken most of the stress off me, but doing so would have also taken away a lot of the fun.

  I could feel my ears pop right as I broke the water. I was still heading in an upward path when I toggled on the propulsors and got my bearings. Hovering over water was a hell of a lot different than land, or even trying to maintain buoyancy. Because the angrav pads repel against mass and the ocean was constantly swelling, I was bouncing quite a bit. I dialed up the power to compensate and heard Heart chime in through my dampers “Ari, additional speed should provide greater stability.” I let him know I was working on it and eased into the throttle. I was still a bit gun-shy from the first run, but my trepidation quickly faded as instinct took over and the sloop responded to my directions.

  I was amazed how fast this beauty could move. In space, everything is about acceleration because of the distances. On land and in the water a ship can only go so fast because of drag but in the air with actual visual references, I could feel the speed. The human brain can only process information so fast before vertigo and motion sickness kick in. I have decent reflexes and my ware helped when it came to flying, but this was new and fun. All my previous flying revolved around sims or big ships like Heart. He was massive compared to this little two-seater. It wasn’t that he couldn’t go as fast, he absolutely could. We had during our run from the missiles. It was that it felt completely different to do so in something this small.

  Skimming across the water at speed was a joy, but if my previous flight through Terran atmosphere had taught me anything, the lesson was to make my flight as short as possible. I wanted to play with the sloop, but the idea of anonymous missiles with my name on them was unpleasant enough to keep me focused on getting ashore quickly. I probably could have made the distance in half the time, but going so fast would have drawn some attention. After my initial burst of speed, I dialed it back to something closer to hopper speed, under the speed of sound. That got me from Heart’s hiding spot to coast in under ten minutes.

  Once over land, I slowed down to a crawl considering the speed I had available. I can definitely see how racing would get addicting, and I was glad I hadn’t done it before joining the Legion. I would have gotten myself killed. It’s a scary realization warfighting is a safer profession than piloting even before removing people trying to do me harm from the latter.

  This was my first visit to this part of the world, so I wasn’t exactly sure what I expected, but what I found was far more rural than I was used to. I’m from the Northern Reaches which is sparse to the point of empty compared to the rest of the Americas. Many folks consider it a frozen wasteland. It’s not that we don’t have cities, they’re just large and spread out, with lots of space and a little nature left. Having been down south to the megacities like Seattle on day trips, there was no comparison. This was like stepping back in time.

  I thought Alaska was backwater. New Zealand was insane in comparison. I’m sure the impression was based on was my flight path more than anything, but if not for the farms I would have guessed the place had been abandoned years prior. I voiced my concerns to Heart and asked if this was normal. “Keeping in mind we do not have reliable data for the last couple of years, it appears the population should be approximately ten million over the entire state.” I told him that seemed really low considering Luna’s population, and the fact Fairbanks, where I called home, had well over double that. “That matches my records as well. The population growth has been very light, but the island is primarily an agricultural zone, so not uncommon. This may work to our advantage.” I told him I wasn’t sure how a lack of people and an abundance of sheep were going to help hide the sloop but to please enlighten me. “Ari, if you make your way northward you will come to a road, you should be able to follow to Auckland or Wellington. There are several other population centers along the way, and while you are traveling I will attempt to infiltrate the local networks.”

  He was right of course. We weren’t sure where on the North Island I would come out on so we had left the destination city open. I was currently about midway between them making them both viable options. Auckland was triple the population but Wellington was the capital. They both had advantages and disadvantages. More people made blending in easier, increasing the risk of someone realizing I was a foreigner. The capital would have significantly more police, and with fewer people probably harder to get out of. They were roughly equidistant from Australia so location to the mainland wasn’t an issue, however if I had to bolt off the island westward I would probably be better off diving for the Puysegur Trench and letting Heart come pick me up.

  Using that logic, I decided to go north to Auckland. If I was going to have to dive back in the drink again, I wanted Heart on the right side of the map for me. Running north would put me back in the Kermadec and we’d scoot back to Luna.

  Chapter 20

  After a certain size, almost all cities look alike. I was surprised how much Auckland looked like Fairbanks, which looked like Handrelt on Janel 4, which looked like Ganymede. I imagined Luna City would probably look a lot like this if we could take the domes off as well. Lots of stone and glas
s and people. These were my thoughts as I attempted to navigate all the hoppers flitting about as I entered the outskirts of the city. I’d hate to see what traffic was like as I got towards the center.

  The sheer volume of traffic was nice in one way. The sloop was inconspicuous because of the abundance of other vehicles. Back home it would have stood out, but that was more a product of the sport than anything. In Auckland, there were so many industrial hoppers also using large rear propulsor drives, my little vehicle blended in.

  Eventually, I got close enough to the city proper I shifted to ground level to get a better feel for the area. Heart had managed to tap into the civil infrastructure and was able to direct me to an older industrial complex. “It will be unit 230 on your right. I have already settled payment and this should be safe enough for at least the evening.” I saw the unit and pulled in as the rolling bay door opened.

  I asked about the payment part since we had been worried about interacting with local systems. “I used a shell corporation Master Dixon left to me. The accounts are completely Terra based and should be impossible trace back to our operation.” That surprised me. I voiced my thoughts about not expecting old man Dixon to leave Heart anything. “He anticipated a time when I might need to be on Earth, as he called it, and he wanted to make sure I had means. The company had no assets in itself, only a name and an account number I have funneled a small portion of my salary into since then.” Sounded like grandpa was sneaky and paranoid, I told Heart. “You have no idea, Ari. However, reviewing much of his records, he was well justified. I believe the saying is ‘you’re not paranoid if they’re really out to get you.’ His rivals had reached the point where they were willing to use force. Master Dixon was not averse to it, however, he preferred less direct methods of dealing with unruly competition, as he called them.”