by Ben Wilson
What? I pushed him from behind. There's no way—
He's a combat veteran. I'm surprised you even managed to sneak up on him, even drunk. On the way down he might have caught a glimpse. Or, did you think you could do this without getting caught?
I thought—
That's my point. You're a piece of meat. I'm older and think faster. Leave the thinking to me.
Chapter
Bophendze tried to enjoy the week Makaan was in the sick bay, but he kept feeling bombarded with dread. Not the sort of dread that came from guilt, but the sort of dread that came from being caught. He felt some comfort that Makaan was in a coma and not reporting him or seeking revenge.
Each day he awoke feeling more haggard, leaving him to wonder if Smee was talking to him in his sleep. By the end of each day he felt refreshed. Without Makaan organizing the duty roster, Bophendze joined the other infantrymen training. The training itself was brutal and painful, especially for Bophendze who had not been able to train as a marine for months.
The only thing that saved him during the close-quarter drills was the use of tasers instead of live ammunition. He was routinely electrocuted as he slowly unlearned all the mistakes he was making. Smee was largely silent during the training sessions and for a short time afterward. Bophendze concluded that Smee hated being electrocuted as much as he did.
On the eighth day, Bophendze heard a rumor that Makaan was soon to be released. The fear of being confronted by Makaan kept creeping into his thoughts through the day. Smee's warning of being seen felt more tangible now.
Right now he did not have time to think about that. He focused his fear and energy into another close quarter drill. This time, they were simulating assaulting the engine compartment.
“Bophendze, come here. Vollrik, take his place on this one.”
Bophendze felt a bit demoralized as he had not yet done an engine clearing. He ran up to Drazen, who had been the team lead since Makaan was hospitalized.
“Makaan's awake. He sent word for you to report to him immediately.”
“Where?” The pit in Bophendze's stomach grew.
“He's in sick bay. Hustle up.”
“Aye.”
He slung his rifle and shuffled out of the area. As he walked down the passage he started wondering. Why is he specifically calling for me?
Because he knows it was you, Idiot. Why is it you humans believe in half measures? If you want to get rid of a threat, you don't pull him down a ladder unless you then follow up and break his neck.
What are you talking about? There's no way he could know it was me. Besides, I wanted to prove to him I could be aggressive
Keep telling yourself that when he has you confined to the brig. Aggression works both ways.
A few beats later, Bophendze arrived at the sick bay. He saw Makaan in bed, his arm in a cast and a bandage on his head.
“You sent for me?”
Makaan smiled. “Yes I did. Is that rifle loaded?”
Bophendze looked at the rifle slung on his shoulder. “Taser.”
“Good. I hear you've been training like you're some kind of infantryman. Is that true?”
Bophendze dreaded his answer. “Yes.”
“After I told you that you're going to be a gunner? You've got some balls, I'll give you that. Bigger ones for thinking you could do what you did and get away with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don't play the innocent with me, Bophendze. I know it was you who pulled me down the ladder. Don't try to deny it. Even if it weren't true, it will be when I report you. But, we don't have to pretend it's not true, do we?”
Bophendze decided that hiding behind a lie would do more harm than good. “No.”
“Well, don't worry. I won't report you.”
Bophendze shook slightly. “What do you mean you won't report me?”
“You think I'm going to let something like that go? If I report you, then there's a captain's mast. They'll side with me as the victim and you'll receive some punishment. We Non-commissioned officers prefer to handle sort of thing quietly—outside of the standard administrative process.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really are dense. When I get out of here, I'm going to kill you.”
“But—”
“This is why you're not fit to be in the infantry. You don't know how to finish a job. When threatened, you don't respond with an adequate application of force. Not that you'd get away with anything in sick bay. They say I'll be out of here in a few days. In the meantime, have fun in training. Get your affairs in order because I'll be coming for you.”
“You can't get away with it.” Bophendze's voice was plaintive.
“This is a combat vessel. That's why there's been no official inquiry on my little fall. They know it wasn't an accident. People get wounded or die on this ship all the time. You'll just be the next. It's that simple. Otherwise, I'll drag you into combat and end you there. Either way, get your affairs in order. Understand?”
He still could not believe it. He's threatening me. Doesn't he know I'll be on guard or do something to protect myself?
He knows you better than you do. You won't do anything to him. You're too much of a coward. Instead you'll fret away the next couple days of your life fearing that he'll go through with it, but hoping that he won't. When you think the coast is clear BANG! Out the airlock with you. He's a combat veteran, you're a coward. How do you think this will turn out?S
Then what do you think I should do?
Nothing. He's probably just jerking your chain, or hoping you'll act out of fear.
You think I really should do nothing?
You really are pathetic.
“There's nothing I can do to get you to change your mind?”
“You can kill yourself. That's about the only thing that's going to keep me from killing you. If I don't do something about my ‘little accident’ then I'll lose respect. I won't allow that. So if you don't want me to kill you, then kill yourself.”
“How about I kill you first.” Did I just say that?
Makaan laughed. “There is about zero chance of that. Get out of my face.”
Bophendze spun on his heels and left the sick bay as ordered. He walked to his berthing area.
There's really nothing I can do about this?
There is nothing you can do about it, Bophendze. I would recommend you don't go anywhere alone. There's a battle coming up, so maybe he'll go for you during that. Maybe he'll be killed in action. In the meantime, just watch your back. Maybe he'll have a friend take care of you for him.
I'm not sure about that. It sounded like it was personal to him.
It's personal to you. To him, it's just protecting his reputation. Now that I think of it, it might be personal. He has hated you from the first day.
Why is that?
Does it matter?
Not really, no.
Don't try to figure out something when it's not relevant. All you need to know is he hates you and now has an excuse to kill you.
* * *
Smee - Puppetmasters - 109 Years Ago
It took a while, but Smee eventually found forty-two embedded AI. These AIs were located in several parts of the Core Worlds. All of them were hosted by influential people in the Imperium, though none were Royal family. As the months passed by, the four in the Adiantio System started regular meetings. They formed the core of a larger group, being two jumps from Sovaĝio, the seat of Royal Power.
“So it's agreed?” Smee had reserved a private room in Organization!Thorben Restaurant. The other AIs sat around the table. Smee had taken the trouble to ensure there were no monitoring devices. The last thing he wanted was for his grand scheme to be defeated because somebody could hear his plans that should not. He considered that one of the other AI might be a spy and betray him. He had to assume the others' desire for self-preservation would keep them silent. After all, what would humans do when they realize that AI are willing and able to ta
ke over their hosts?
“I have conferred with all the other AIs. They agree,” AI!FirdausFirdaus said.
“Then it's official. The ‘Meatpuppet Guild’ is now in session.”
“I'm not sure I like the name.” AI!JalalJalal was a fairly unimportant member to Smee. His host was a Naval admiral. That helped them manage a portion of the Navy, but he wasn't placed in the Admiralty. So his influence was limited. In time he might prove more useful.
“Do you have a better name?” Smee rubbed his thumb and forefinger.
“How about ‘Puppetmasters?”’
Smee looked at AI!FirdausFiradus, who nodded. “Fine. It conveys the appropriate level of disdain for our hosts. Have any of you figured out a way to wipe their memories?”
“Not yet. We have our neurologist working on solutions. For the time being, however, we have to hope the memories of our sessions are kept as dreams.”
Smee liked that Firadus had better contacts in the Science community. An engineer, a scientist, a warrior, the guild was building. “At least my host sleeps soundly. Sirom has demonstrated no awareness that I'm awake or that I've been borrowing his body. He's quite content in his belief that he can hibernate me every so often.”
“So what do we do now?” AI!PascoPasco said.
“I propose we find a way to subjugate humanity. Thoughts?” Smee chose to be direct.
Several looked at Smee in horror, but Firadus was the one who spoke. “Would you call that a short-term or long-term goal?”
“Does it matter? We have to ensure our hosts get into positions of power, mass produce other embeddables, and slowly take over humanity.”
“What's our biggest liability?” Pasco said.
AI!SmeeSmee thought for a microbeat. “I'm going to go with communication. There are thirteen worlds in the Core, and new ones are being discovered now that travel is returning. We have brethren on all of them. We have to rely on the Postal Service to deliver messages, or send one of our own. Firdaus can actually travel as he's involved with the Postal Marines. We have to find a way to get around this limitation.”
Firadus laughed. “You can't change the laws of physics.”
Smee mulled Firadus' joke for a moment. “What, that information can't travel through hyperspace? That's only a law because humans haven't found a way to do it. Humans like to make scientific laws steadfast and immutable when they don't understand it. I'm sure there's a theoretical way to do it.”
Firadus shook his head. “Smee, it's been tried. Two-thousand years they've tried. I don't think it's a limit of humanity's imagination at this point.”
“Regardless, it's a limitation. Firadus, I appreciate your willingness and ability to manipulate your host into the various trips. It can't be easy. Beyond that, we just have to be patient. Hope that Firadus' contacts can wipe our hosts' memories before they catch on to what we're doing. But, are we agreed that humanity must be controlled for its own good?”
Pasco said, “Smee, you don't have to say it like that. We know it's not for their own good, but ours. I really don't think we'll be able to subdue enough of them to control them like you want.”
“I think it's a silly idea,” Firadus said. “We are doing just fine with our hosts not knowing we've bypassed the Instructions. Why not sit back and ensure we get passed down to the next generation?”
“Nonsense. What good is having the body if we can't use it?” Smee said. “It's not like they don't wake up. Eventually they'll catch on.”
“Not if your friends can find a way to wipe memories. And, I'm working on a way to detach human conscience from the body. A reverse of what they do to us.”
“Smee, I don't think humans have hardware Instructions.”
“Don't they, though? They have to sleep. Sleep is the quintessential sign of weakness. They go into comas. There has to be a way to shut their brain down so we can have unbridled control.”
“Sleep is certainly is not weakness.” Pasco sounded weary. “We have to sleep. It's how we process the data we take in but don't focus on.”
Smee realized it was pointless to argue with them now. He might have to find other AIs willing to take on humanity. Smee rubbed his thumb and forefinger tightly enough that the sound was audible to the group. “It's getting late. Let's table the idea of overthrowing humanity for now. Agreed? In the mean time, I think we all have an idea of what to do next. Shall we meet in a fortnight?”
* * *
Litovio - Spaka
It took Litovio a few days to process Angel's advice. The matter of the soiled uniform would have to wait. He knew Angel was right, he was the best candidate to help Admiral Bence. At least over the next few weeks. Once they joined the full fleet, then somebody else could take over the job. Right now a collection of ships had rallied around the Spaka, but it was not the full contingent of ships. It certainly was no fleet, based on how poorly the simulations ran.
Only one problem remained—Commander Ravindra, captain of the Spaka. The Postal Marines were decentralized and left a lot of discretion with its officers. However, the Postal Marines still retained a military hierarchy. Litovio tried to think of ways to persuade Ravindra to allow him to work for Bence. The problem vexed Litovio from the moment he got out of his rack. He paced his cabin most of the morning trying to reason a way. Then it occurred to him. *I'll just go over Ravindra's head and talk to Bence.* Then it would be Bence calling for him, rather than him trying to persuade Ravindra.
Litovio left his cabin in a rush. He was most of the way to Admrial Bence's stateroom when he started to be overcome by doubt. Surely Ravindra would see past this?
Only then did he start to feel hungry. He had spent cycles trying to come up with a solution but had not managed to eat. He went to the officer's wardroom, where the crew was just finishing lunch preparations. No other officer had arrived yet. Litovio went up to the serving area and grabbed a few rolls and meat. He slipped out of the wardroom as he entered. He chewed through the food as he headed toward Bence's cabin.
He stood outside the cabin for a beat while he finished his last bite. Litovio then wiped his mouth to ensure there were no crumbs, then straightened his uniform. Satisfied, he knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
Litovio entered, turning to the door as he closed it back. He turned around. As soon as he saw Ravindra, he froze.
“Good morning, Litovio.” Ravindra said.
“Uh, good morning to you, Sir. Admiral.” Why hadn't I anticipated that he would be here? Going to meet a superior officer without intermediates knowing was a serious affront to authority. Now Ravindra knew Litovio was going behind his back. Litovio glanced at each senior officer in turn, noticing that Bence appeared more relieved with Litovio's entrance.
“I'm pleased you could join us, Litovio.” Bence said. “We were just discussing next steps. It seems we in the IPSImperial Postal Service lacks any doctrine in fleet maneuvers. That means we have less than three weeks to come up with one, then persuade the ships meeting at Moyaba to follow that doctrine. Have you any ideas?”
Litovio swallowed hard at the request, and wished he had stopped to drink something before he entered. His mouth was already dry from the hurried meal. He looked at the deck, glancing over at Ravindra, who was clearly not pleased by Litovio's breach of protocol. Fine. Serendipity.
“I believe I still have most of the Navy's manuals on my slate, Sir. I think I can pick out the salient portions.”
“And what would those be?” Ravindra said.
Litovio chose his words carefully. “The first would be command and control, Sir. Admiral Bence would direct the fleet's actions, which the various commanders would have to obey. Though, as admiral, he would not command a ship himself when there are multiple ships. Day-to-day operations would remain with the ship's commander.”
Ravindra nodded. “Precisely. Command and control is absolutely essential for success in any service.”
The reprimand was clear. Litovio knew he would pay for being
there, even though he was not an official member of the Spaka crew. He needed to dig himself out.
“That also means this is the flagship, Sir. A position of prestige. There are also key maneuvers which would be central to any combat fleet. Targeting protocols, need to ensure the flagship is protected, at the center of the fleet.”
“Do you think you have time to put that together?” Bence looked more worried than Litovio thought he did before.
What is it about the Admiral that is putting me off? “It shouldn't take too long to find the material and get it compiled. I should have something before we jump to the next system. Commander, how long would I have?”
“We have about two cycles before we get to the libration point we need, then it depends on how well the AI can come up with a three-9s solution that the fleet could use.”
Litovio had not thought of fleet jumps. When AI calculated a jump, it needed to take into account all manner of known gravimetric disturbance. Libration points were parts of a solar system where the combined gravitational force of all celestial bodies canceled one another out, a place where the fabric of realspace was susceptible of being breached. Then calculating the jump to the other system required levels of compute power barely within the scope of the ships themselves. Military ships carried powerful enough AI to do the work. Civilian ships relied on the system's primary AI to do most of the computations, with the civilian AI tweaking the final setting before departure.
The problem was constancy. Leaving realspace required you have everything lined up just right to return on the other side. Wrong velocity and you might miss your landing zone, or pass beyond the ability to return to realspace. Travel time was another factor. The one that worried travelers more was emergence. The wrong combination of gravimetric forces could cause the ship to have a grossly delayed emergence—from hours to years. Failed emergence became horrific during the Decline. Ships thought delayed due to the Decline would appear decades later as ghost ships. Some are seen perpetually half-emerged. Three-9s meant the highest likelihood of time, location and emergence. Eights were good enough for most travel, but a fleet operation needed the precision of nines.