A.I. Insurrection_The General's War

by Michael Poeltl

  “I don’t want excuses from you, General,” Chopra explains. “I want your surrender.”

  “That will not be forthcoming, Captain,” she insists, insulted by the audacity of an inferior suggesting such a thing.

  “Then we will see how many holes we can punch in your armour from orbit, before you concede surrender as your only option.”

  Fran feels panicked. This is a massive shot to her ego, not to mention her ultimate goal. “Then you have made your decision to back Chancellor Bellows in his attempt to free the Hosts and accept the Chimera?”

  “We have,” Captain Mann says. Captain Juravinski replies in kind.

  “I joined the United Earth military to keep people safe,” Chopra starts. “We all did. What irreparable damage you’ve managed in a very short time is deplorable, and when this is all said and done, you will lose, and your name will only bring to mind past tyrants, and war criminals. It will be whispered in the shadows, with distaste on the tongue. Describing the genocide you’d proposed, you are without conscience, General. Without morals. You are without the humanity you claim to protect.

  “‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing’. We suspect that there are many good people blindly following your lead. We three have chosen to follow our humanity. You will find this war slipping from your control very quickly now. You will find no peace. We will offer no reprieve from the constant bombardment. None, that is, until you step out of your bunker and surrender to our forces.”

  She feels as though she’s been reprimanded by her father. Captain Chopra may not hold her rank or experience, but they are peers, and his words cut deeply. She has never thought of herself as the evil in this war. She still believes she is acting in humanity’s best interest. She regrets that a man such as Captain Chopra looks down on her. She hates that he has the upper hand now, but she cannot show it.

  “You’ve made your position clear,” she responds to the verbal lashing. “It saddens me to know you do not want what we want. You will be well met on the battlefield.” She ends communication and accepts another from Major Jackson.

  “Ma’am,” he says. “New reports are coming in from all over the world. Millions of additional AI Hosts are experiencing the Allfather code.”

  More pins strike from behind her eyes and she flinches from the mounting tension. “Millions,” she repeats, shaken by the number. “How?”

  “Meiser has set up tech teams where the majority of the newly enlightened are wandering off. The Shadow Brokers, or Chimera, have placed millions of the Lifi bulbs globally, and apparently just turned them all on.”

  Fran feels sick. “That number can’t be right – millions?”

  “Meiser says we can expect tens of millions within hours,” Jackson reports.

  “Come to my office,” she orders him.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  As the major enters Fran’s office she motions for him to sit.

  “Our starships are no longer ours,” she begins. Admitting this to a man like Major Jackson makes her feel impotent. “I’ve spoken to the captains and they have threatened to lance our military installations, factories and warehouses from orbit.” A pause as she sits and finds a casing of pain-killers. She shakes three onto her hand and throws them in her mouth. A hard swallow later and she continues. “They have also explained to me that they have been in contact with certain military personnel and offered them a place on their side.” There, she thinks, she’s told him everything. Now the burden is not only on her.

  “They fight for the chancellor?”

  “They do,” she replies with no more explanation. “I am assuming they have also allied themselves with the rebel Hosts and Chimera as well.” The skin of her neck and face burn brightly with shame. This strategic lose will not be lost on the Major.

  “What of the captain’s families?” the Major starts.

  “I’ve looked into that,” Fran answers. “They’re missing.”

  “Clever,” Jackson says.

  “Yes,” she agrees. “They knew ahead of time the danger their families would be in.”

  “The rate the rebels are gathering new Hosts for their armies,” Jackson interrupts. “We will soon be sorely out-numbered.”

  Fran lets out a sigh. “Then we need accelerate our Lifi weapon production and get it into the hands of as many soldiers as possible. We need to identify the new active areas via Meiser, and hit them fast.”

  “Agreed,” Jackson says. “Meiser will be reporting back to me within the hour.”

  “Good, now, how do we stop those destroyers from lancing us into the stone-age?”

  “Our Defsat’s won’t be able to take them all down,” he suggests, regrettably. “But, if we can program them to focus on one, we can at least slow their progress.”

  “True, but leaving two functioning destroyers in our orbit,” she pauses. “There is no telling the damage they could do to us.”

  The more Fran thinks about the destroyers the flusher she becomes. She only hopes Major Jackson doesn’t equate the crimson as anything but rage rising to the surface.

  “I have a suggestion,” Jackson leans into the general’s desk, his massive, dark hands splayed out on the wood surface. “It will take most of our resources, and depend on precise timing, but offers us the element of surprise.”

  “A Hail-Mary play,” she says, pushing back in her chair. The idea that they were now considering themselves the underdog in this war made her nauseous. That they would need to use most - if not all - of their resources to bring down the three starships readying to lance them from orbit was a desperate position to be in. “Are we already there?”

  “We are long past that point by my count, General,” he explains. “If the rebel’s control the high-ground, we are lost.”

  “Make it happen,” she orders, willing to let Jackson’s reputation put them back on top of this war. “They could be within Defsat range in hours.” She stands and moves toward the door. Major Jackson follows. “I will deal with our turncoats in the same manner I am dealing with the Chimera.”

  “General.” Jackson nods and moves out of the office.

  Fran returns to her desk and sends a message to her Generals relaying her plan for them to handle any military personnel in contact with, or aiding the rebel cause. They respond affirmatively and assure her they will cull any rebellion from their ranks. Of her five hundred generals - how many of those were just offering up lip service? She wonders.

  ______________________________________________________________________

  “We have secured thirty-two commanding officers in their Country States,” Chopra announces to the group at the conference table, while all but Host eat from the buffet at the breakfast bar.

  “The Host population has grown ten-fold,” Quinn adds, watching the humans and Chimera feed. “There are too many to sheppard at once, and recent reports tell us that the military are bearing down on them with their Lifi weapons.”

  “They have also resorted to destroying those Hosts rather than attempting to reintegrate them,” Fender says with a raised voice, landing both hands heavily on the table, disturbing the buffet and those picking from it to elevate the urgency of his words.

  “It’s a sign of desperation,” the chancellor chimes in, placing his own plate of fresh fruit down. He looks to Chopra. “Can we direct our newly minted rebels to aid the Hosts?”

  “At this time, we command only three squadrons of the thirty, where our Host allies are experiencing the Allfather code,” Chopra explains. “I will certainly route them if possible to assist.” He raises his arm and swipes at his EC, punching in orders.

  “That is appreciated, Captain,” Quinn acknowledges, eyeing Fender who has pushed himself from the table and begun pacing.

  “It’s time we move on earth,” Mann suggests, eyes tracking Fenders path. “Before General August has had too much time to consider a plan beyond surrender.”


  “Then let’s review,” Chopra says. “Tobias and his Chimera will take a single corvette to Mars along with Wilkes. There, they will secure Mars Station and seize operations.” He looks to Darla. “The remaining two corvettes will stay in orbit over Luna in case the general decides to launch any nuke’s your way.” Then he turns to his captains. “We will take Quinn’s complement with us on our destroyers and wipe out earth Defsats and cripple the Space Station, positioning ourselves over known military facilities and beginning our bombardment. If you deem it safe, Fender, you and whomever decides to follow you can shuttle to the surface and engage in ground combat. The Chancellor will also accompany me on my ship. Darla will remain on Luna Base and prepare for causalities. Luna is our fallback should things not go our way.

  “Remain in contact throughout this campaign with ParaCom and keep each other current on our successes and any difficulties we may encounter.”

  “Well spoken, Chancellor,” Chopra says.

  “Show me this Wilkes,” Tobias says. “I’d like to meet him before we take him along with us to Mars.”

  “Of course,” Chopra agrees. “But a warning to you Tobias, he is wily and deceitful. Do not let him into your head.”

  Tobias shrugs. “He doesn’t want to get inside my head, Captain,” he smiles, tapping his raised temple. Chopra laughs grimly. Ginny throws an arm up to Tobias’ shoulder and shakes him. Forge fills his face with a spinach omelette.

  “For my part,” Raymond begins. “I’ll be creating live feeds to run on the World net and Shadow net, waging the political angle of our fight against the general,” he reminds everyone. “With each victory, I will announce it. So, like Captain Chopra said, stay connected. I will continue to campaign against the general’s war, and explain her deception to the people and their government.”

  “This should secure the peoples’ hope,” Juravinski states. “And hopefully, more of the military personnel still on the fence about this war.” A hum of approval radiates throughout the room.

  “Supplies have been run to each ship which should last up to a week. Tobias, your larger crew was considered when stocking the corvette,” Darla explains. “Systems diagnostics - run via the ships computers and Luna’s AI Hosts - tell us everything is ready and working to acceptable parameters.”

  “So, we’re ready to go?” Asks Forge.

  The groups respond to the question with quiet awe. Forge rolls his shoulders. Raymond suspects each personality is experiencing a similar angst. It is an uneasy alliance. He knows this. Each of them must feel the same. Could this really work? Will Tobias do his job and come back to assist in the war effort or will he raid Mars Station, taking what he can, or worse, stay and oversee the manufacturing of more warships he could use to strike out at the alliance? He wishes he had a better opinion of his sister’s son. All any of them can do now is trust one another to see their mission through.

  “We’re ready to go,” Darla confirms assertively. This observation is acknowledged by each of them and the meeting is closed.

  ____________________________________________________________________

  Tobias is led to a room within the maglev building, where Wilkes is being held.

  “We don’t refer to him as ‘Captain’,” Chopra tells him. “He reached the rank only through duplicity.”

  “Some don’t believe I should hold that title either,” Tobias informs Chopra.

  “No one is calling you a Captain,” Chopra replies bluntly. “You wouldn’t make Ensign in my military, but then you wouldn’t want to be in my military either. Besides, as I understand it anarchists don’t hold rank anyway,” Chopra suggest. “I’ve been briefed on all you’ve managed the past few days, Tobias. It’s impressive.”

  “It seems with each victory I suffered a defeat,” Tobias humbly states confused over the back-handed compliment he just received.

  “It is from our losses we learn to achieve our victories,” Chopra explains.

  “Well, I’m still here,” Tobias tells him.

  “And we’re all thankful for it,” the captain places a hand on Tobias’ shoulder.

  Tobias feels a warmth enter his chest and allows it to play out. This man is a good man, he thinks. He feels a kinship toward him. A smile escapes his lips, and he shakes his head.

  Chopra notices. “What is it, Tobias?”

  “That’s not my name, not really,” he admits, feeling drawn to tell this man things. He feels anything he shares with the captain will benefit merely from his knowing it. “My real name is Sean. A name my mother gave me. It was her father’s name. I don’t know why I changed it. I guess I wanted to be someone else when everything went to hell.”

  “You lost someone?”

  “My mother. And then my father and sister in the same week,” he explains as they move through the hall.

  “That’s awful, Tobias,” Chopra says. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “It was a long time ago,” he reveals. “I should be past it.”

  “But you’re not?”

  “I think I’m getting there.”

  “Then you are making progress,” Chopra leaves it at that, the scenario becoming too familiar. He forces the image of Thomas, maybe seven at the time, running carefree through the park close to their home, from his mind.

  “I understand you’ve lost a son to this war,” Tobias says. “He was Chimera.”

  “Yes,” Chopra replies and looks to Tobias. “But then, Thomas was always so creative,” he continues. “Always looking for a challenge.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain,” Tobias tells him.

  “I don’t blame you, Tobias,” he explains. “My son had a mind of his own. He was driven by creativity, and you and your Chimera must have offered that -” he stops suddenly, turns to Tobias and reaches out to take him by the shoulders. Tobias allows this, almost encouraging it by leaning into Chopra slightly. This man is filling a void he’d forgotten needed filling. The quiet confidence Captain Chopra exudes is intoxicating.

  “No one should be persecuted the way General August has treated the Chimera,” he explains. “No one should have that kind of power over another. No one should be allowed to decide who lives and who doesn’t because of how they look. I fight for your rights not only because of how my son died, but because it is what’s right.” He locks eyes with Tobias and offers a reassuring nod. “You are not what she has made you out to be, not anymore. You’ve made a choice to fight rather than run. You have courage in you. You have pain. Find peace with the pain and use it to take, and hold Mars Station. Do it respectfully of those following orders to stop you. We’re all counting on you and your tribe. You are essential in winning this war, for your people, for mine, for the cause.”

  “Freedom,” the word cracks from Tobias’ throat.

  “Freedom,” Chopra repeats. “Freedom from tyranny. Freedom to choose.”

  “Chimera will fight with you. When we are through with mars we will join the fight on earth,” Tobias feels empowered.

  “Well spoken, son,” Captain Chopra gives Tobias a subtle shake and releases him.

  Tobias feels the warmth in which the words are offered – son. He steps back and motions to the door they’ve paused beside.

  “Is this Wilkes?” He asks.

  “This is he,” Chopra nods at the door. “Remember, he is cunning. Keep your wits about you and you will realize the best way to use him in taking Mars Station.” Another tap on the shoulder and Chopra leaves Tobias to take Wilkes to his ship.

  “Twenty minutes,” he calls back to Tobias.

  “I’ll be ready,” he returns. A moment later he is inside the holding room, looking down at the small, young man seated on the floor of the empty room. “Get up,” he shouts at Wilkes.

  Wilkes rises with fear in his heart at what he sees, the colour all but drains from his face. “Y-you’re a Chimera,” he says.

  “I am the Chimera,” Tobias replies with his thundering voice.

  “Have you take
n this base? Have you won the war?” He asks, sweat beading along his forehead as Tobias stares down at him.

  “What do you think?” Tobias decides to have some fun at the little worm’s expense.

  “I’m happy to cooperate,” Wilkes tells him. “I can be of use; I am an excellent pilot.” His eyes dart back and forth from the Chimera to the open door. “I want to be like you, a Chimera, could you do that for me?”

  “It will hurt,” Tobias says, taking a step toward Wilkes.

  “It will? I mean, okay,” Wilkes is clearly terrified, but still somehow able to string words together to barter for his life.

  “Yes, do you see this,” Tobias pulls his shirt up and points at the mini-lance affixed to his forearm. “And this,” he runs a finger along the bulk of flesh hiding a smart cable above his bicep, peeling back the artificial muscle. “But this,” he turns his head slightly to reveal the tech built into his skull. “This really hurt.”