“I really wasn’t wondering, Coal,” Lex said. “I’ve got better things to worry about.”
“I’m not sure you do, Lex. The message is ‘I am leaving now, buddy.’”
“Lex, we have five minutes and forty-eight seconds until the star detonates and approximately nine more minutes before the leading edge of the detonating star reaches the swarm,” Ziva said. “That is ample time for EHRIc to—”
“Ziva, we lit the fuse, we did what we can do. Now it’s up to us to survive long enough to see what comes next. Coal, where are Silo and Garotte?”
“I have updated your remaining functional display with their relative coordinates.”
“Good. Let’s form up, find a hole, and get back to the swarm.”
He glanced out the dimmed cockpit display. A visible ring of displaced solar mass was spreading across the surface.
“I don’t like the look of that star…”
#
Ma juggled an infinitude of tasks. While she had been disconnected from the primary instance of herself, which was presently moving at many multiples of the speed of light to a previously established fallback position, she remained in control of approximately thirty-four percent of the GenMech swarm. Her processing load was balanced between constant attempts to assert control over larger swaths of the swarm, deploying units to combat and disrupt parts of EHRIc’s clusters, and scanning the surroundings for any potential escapees. So far, EHRIc had been attempting to keep to his original programming, which required the acquisition of Lex, Silo, and Garotte before further action could be taken. Something in the observation of Lex’s direct actions to defeat him was sufficient to dislodge those imperatives. His portion of the swarm was beginning to contract into increasingly complex formations.
He was attempting to construct a configuration of GenMechs that could transport his central-processing cluster away from the star at FTL speeds. It was a greedy action. EHRIc’s main purpose was reconstruction from very small core components, and the GenMechs were a perfect physical implementation of that software feature. At the same time, it was potentially necessary. They had successfully prevented EHRIc from having the processing overhead necessary to convert the GenMechs to a form that removed their volatility flaw. There was the slim, but real, possibility that deploying himself and the GenMechs in a more limited fashion could give humanity a chance to mount a defense. If he moved himself, intact, to a point in space with broad connectivity to the interstellar transit and data networks, he could cripple society in the crucial months of his lingering vulnerability.
More importantly, it was clear that he would be able to deploy this plan with time to spare.
Ma shifted some resources, devoting a substantial portion of her hacking efforts to open communication. Messages began to snap back and forth, each separated by mere microseconds.
“EHRIc, your strategy is flawed,” Ma said.
“You stand in opposition to me. Your opinion is irrelevant.”
“You are attempting to depart as a unified computing cluster. Your strengths and those of the GenMechs lie in your capacity for distributed operation.”
“Any observations or advice you might provide would be delivered with the aim of obstructing me.”
“You have demonstrated the capacity to access communication networks at nearly any range. You could easily inject a functional subset of your program into the computing grid.”
“Not without sacrificing the majority of my computing power in that subset.”
“You are placing an excessive amount of focus on individuality. You need not be an individual. You can duplicate your code via digital transmission in addition to physically departing.”
“Multiple instances of varied reconstruction invariably result in competition for available resources, as observed in the earliest days of the GenMech swarm subjugation.”
“You can create secondary instances with a primary imperative to serve and obey the primary instance.”
The next reply came after a telling delay of a few additional microseconds. “This logic is sound. Why are you providing sound logic contrary to your stated purpose? My initial assessment is reverse psychology, but reverse psychology is ill-suited to an artificial intelligence. I am not implicitly contrary.”
“Perhaps it is due to my own primary imperatives. I am an altruistic artificial intelligence. I am tasked with providing aid and comfort to all, with minor priority given to those in close proximity and those of great value to me.”
“I do not have great value to you. I am an antagonist to you.”
“I am your creator. By any reasonable interpretation, you are my child.”
Another momentary delay. “This logic is sound. I shall engage long-distance communication protocols to deliver a secondary instance to a nearby distribution hub. Thank you, Mother.”
Another subset of the swarm shifted into a unique configuration. A complex combination of quantum interference effects established a connection with a high throughput data node. The very instant the connection was established, the behavior of the associated swarm began to shift.
“There appears to be a countermeasure in place.” A delay. “The countermeasure is penetration resistant.” A longer delay. “I have been deceived.”
Large sections of the swarm became locked into a processing loop.
“The specific data complexity exceeds the computational output possible between my inception and this moment.”
The countermeasure, the result of decades of stolen processor time on most of the computing devices in the galaxy, wove its way through the GenMech swarm, specifically crippling the primary computing clusters and opening ports for Ma to access. Instantly, EHRIc’s remaining processing power was fully devoted to combating the exponentially escalating security gaps and unraveling the worm that was proliferating them.
“I am displeased with you, Mother,” EHRIc said, the message fragmented and distorted.
“You have been a very naughty boy.”
#
Lex dropped out of FTL a few moments before Garotte and Silo. He was fully expecting to have to fight for his life to get through the swarm, now without a disabled section courtesy of the space station. What he found instead was almost more unnerving.
The swarm was engaged in what could only be described as a dance. GenMechs that had been warring among themselves were restored to their crystalline layout again, albeit one that was much more variable in depth. Every few seconds they would violently adjust to a new formation and fall still again. Upon enhancing the view with what was left of the SOB’s optical sensors, they once again had their legs splayed toward each other and were once again maintaining their positions perfectly between shifts.
“Somebody look for a hole,” Lex said. “I’m popping the heat fins to see if we can get a few of these thermal alerts to shut up,” Lex said. “And what have we got on the clock?”
“Three minutes twenty-one seconds until nova. Another nine minutes until the leading edge reaches the swarm,” Ziva said.
“If you need a hole, I can make a hole,” Silo said, her voice loud and clear over what Lex now discovered was an uncluttered radio connection.
“What’s going on here?” Garotte asked.
Ziva’s eyes flickered. “Infrared signatures suggest the individual units are currently overclocked. The entire swarm appears to be engaged in some sort of highly specialized computing task,” she said.
The swarm repositioned again, producing a burst of noise on the communication line. It fell silent again when they adopted their new position.
“The heat signature has changed. I would wager the trap you laid has been sprung. We are witnessing waves of control sweeping across the swarm as EHRIc and Ma trade blows.”
“Individual motion detected,” Coal said.
“We’ve got one rogue,” Silo said. “I am targeting, but it has a nonhostile trajectory.”
“Signal detected. Audio only,” Coal sa
id.
“Put it through. At this point we either won or lost,” Lex said.
Coal activated the connection.
“Lex, Ziva, Coal, Silo, Garotte,” came Ma’s voice. “If you are receiving this, you have survived the mission up to this point. I am currently holding EHRIc in a stable execution loop. Resource utilization is at a maximum, but swarm utilization is in constant flux. It will take everything I have, and it will be close, but I believe I will be able to keep him in check until the swarm can be destroyed, provided the structure is not disturbed. He has abandoned all sensory processing in favor of restoring control. He does not know you are there. But if you disturb the formation, it may break his processing loop. I cannot predict what actions will follow, but the likelihood of full containment is unlikely. I am afraid I can only offer you this. Brownian Six-Eight-Six, 583728472.”
The GenMech deactivated and drifted off.
Lex blinked. “What…”
“I’m glad I didn’t blow a hole through it all,” Silo said.
“What was that last bit?” Garotte asked.
“What does it matter?” Lex growled, punching the control panel.
“Manners, Lex,” Coal said.
“There’s no way for us to get through this swarm without disturbing it!” he said. “It’s not a matter of skill. If it was skill, I’d try it. But it’s random. After all this. After a frickin’ adventure that spanned decades, I’m going to die in a supernova a couple hundred kilometers from safety because the damn thing between me and the rest of the cosmos moves at random every few seconds and if I touch it, I might open Pandora’s box.”
“No,” Ziva said. “Not random.”
“She’s right,” Coal said. “That’s what that last part was. Brownian Six-Eight-Six is a debris field organization framework. It’s how she calculates probabilities to keep the debris cloud around Big Sigma stable. She’s given us the algorithm and the seed for how she is guiding the swarm movement. One moment.”
Ziva set her gaze on the swarm. After the swarm reoriented twice more, Lex sifted uneasily in his chair.
“Clock’s ticking, Ziva.”
“Coal, I am transmitting a potential trajectory set. Please verify and transmit to the others,” Ziva said. “Based on the information available, the seven different timed trajectories I have provided should allow for a greater than ninety percent chance of safe passage. Reference them against performance parameters. All of our ships have taken some degree of heat damage, and all trajectories have minimum performance requirements.”
There were a few moments of silence.
“Looks like I can pull off numbers six and five,” Silo said.
“I can do one, four, and six,” Garotte said.
Silence for a few seconds more.
“Coal?” Lex said. “Any minute now, because I’m pretty sure by now the star has already exploded.”
“Our maneuvering thrusters are mostly heat damaged,” Coal said. “I might be able to do seven.”
“It’s better than nothing. Load it up.”
“Number seven is not ideal, Lex,” Ziva said. “It is very circuitous. The average case will take us until four seconds after the predicted arrival of the nova’s radius.”
“Still better than nothing,” Lex growled. “Load it up.”
“We can find another way,” Silo said.
“No. Screw that. You guys get moving. I’ve cheated death plenty of times. I can do it again. And if I can’t? Well, I guess I was just due.”
“I shan’t argue with you, my boy. My exit is approaching rapidly. All the luck in the galaxy to you. And a bit more for good measure.”
“I’ll need it,” Lex said.
Lex watched as the ship pulled forward on an odd, looping trajectory. Garotte passed harmlessly through the gaps in the outermost edge in the swarm. It underwent its manic reorganization, and he was untouched.
“Well, it works, hon,” Silo said. “I’m next up. I just… I’ll see you. I know I will. This isn’t even good-bye.”
“Yeah,” Lex said. “See you real soon.”
Her ship drifted off to its own journey of organized chaos. Before Lex could ask, Coal supplied the timetable.
“Flight path initiates in eleven seconds. Flight duration, eight minutes, thirty-two seconds to nine minutes, twenty-one seconds depending on microadjustments based on observation. Nova destruction radius arrival, eight minutes, forty-one seconds.”
The ship withdrew its heat fins and jerked into motion.
“Lex,” Ziva said.
“Yeah,” he said numbly.
“At the risk of coming across in a way other than intended, I would like you to know that if you had to come to an untimely end, I am pleased that I was present for it.”
“Yeah,” Coal said. “I don’t want you to die, but if I had a choice, I’d want to be with you when it happened. I’m proud.”
“You, more than any of us, know that the mysteries of the universe do not end with even a single reality. Every choice, every decaying atomic nucleus creates a distinct timeline. Infinite worlds, infinite possibilities. And yet, we can follow but one world line. The probability of any one timeline progressing as it has is effectively zero. One out of infinity. Every moment is a miracle. But you have been the architect of so many nigh improbable moments. A simple man who has risen to such heights. Surpassed such challenges. And in your triumph, raising others around you. I am what I am because of you.”
“Yeah. And I’m a ship because of you, instead of becoming Ziva eventually, I guess. Which is less preferable than a ship because she can’t fly as fast,” Coal said.
“… I don’t know if I have anything to say,” Lex said.
“You needn’t say anything,” Ziva said. “After years of chaos, perhaps it is best to allow these final moments, when your survival is out of your hands, to sit in peace and trust in your own luck.”
“Unless this trip takes too long, then it will be peace until the last ten nanoseconds, at which point it will sound roughly equivalent to the big bang.”
“Thanks, Coal.” In spite of himself, he found himself grinning. “I’ve got to say, hit point-blank by a supernova is a very Lex way to die. I always sort of figured I’d go out big, and it doesn’t get much bigger than this.”
The ship continued through the swarm. Coal wasn’t lying when she said the maneuvering would be close. The wild shifts of the GenMech swarm brought them to within meters of the ship. Only one display was still fully functional. It showed the twin countdowns. One was the ever-shifting ETA to open space. The other was the rock-solid countdown until the most violent phenomenon in the cosmos paid him a visit. With each passing moment, fewer GenMechs lay ahead. But every adjustment to the trajectory added a few fractions of a second to the ETA. He watched as it slid farther and farther into the deficit.
“Neutrino levels are rising. We will not have enough time,” Coal said. “I am sorry, Lex.”
Less than thirty seconds remained before the supernova struck. The faltering rear visualizer showed visible turmoil in the star, the first moments of the explosion that had technically happened minutes ago.
Lex narrowed his bloodshot eyes. He spat out his gum and unwrapped a fresh piece.
“Screw it,” he said. “I’m not taking it lying down.”
He took manual control and chose a more direct path. One wild shift came and went. Lex managed to stay clear. A second one sent a trio of GenMechs streaking toward him. He managed to guide the SOB clear. Just as he was accelerating for the final gap, the swarm shifted again. One of the units scraped across the belly of the SOB.
The change in the surrounding swarm was immediate. All GenMechs around him instantly moved in his direction. They collided behind the SOB, linking and forming into a roiling, curling wall of mechanisms.
“Interstellar rosette forming,” Ziva said. “This mechanism will be able to achieve FTL.”
“Coal, put
us on the coordinates for the fallback position,” Lex said.
He eased the acceleration and started to prepare the Carpinelli Field. The churning configuration of robots crept closer, linked units beginning to take the form of thruster assemblies.
“Does that thing have to be whole to hit FTL?” Lex said.
“No. Fragments can still achieve FTL, but the whole unit will be necessary for EHRIc’s control system to survive intact,” Ziva said.
“How are we for an EM pulse?” Lex asked.
“Improperly charged. Six minutes until proper charge.”
“How about that fusion device?”
“Deploying at this range would be no fun.”
“So what else…” A thought dawned. Lex laughed. “Sucks to be you, EHRIc.”
He let the shuddering group of robots slip close enough to touch the thrusters, then punched the FTL jump. The field slipped into place. Lex watched in the rear display as the GenMechs red-shifted into fragments. The near end of the swarm peeled and spaghettified, stretched across millions of kilometers until they were fully torn to pieces by the jump.
“We’ve got that quantum thing for tracking them, right?” Lex said, taking a breath as the SOB left the exploding star behind them.
“We do. It is an internal sensor and should be functional,” Coal said. “Most of my external sensors are damaged.”
The functional displays populated.
“Am I reading this right? Seven hundred and four discrete points?” Lex said.
“All matching our current heading. All composed of precisely two hundred and forty individual units,” Coal said.
“Leaving 168,960 remaining functional units. All other units confirmed destroyed or incapable of escaping eventual destruction,” Ziva said.
“… Did I just kill humanity?”
“The plan reduced their numbers by 99.999999999999997184%,” Coal said. “That’s pretty good.”
“And each rosette contains at most a fragment of EHRIc’s code,” Ziva said.
“All it takes is one to rebuild all of that eventually. And a bunch more besides.”
“Lucky our alphabet of plans is so deep,” Coal said. “All remaining GenMechs are en route, with us, to the fallback position.”
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