Star Warrior
Page 1
STAR WARRIOR
ISAAC HOOKE
CONTENTS
BOOKS BY ISAAC HOOKE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Tane Ganeth
Afterword
About the Author
Miscellanea
Acknowledgments
Closing
BOOKS BY ISAAC HOOKE
Military Science Fiction
ATLAS Trilogy
(published by 47North)
ATLAS
ATLAS 2
ATLAS 3
Alien War Trilogy
Hoplite
Zeus
Titan
Argonauts
Bug Hunt
You Are Prey
Alien Empress
Quantum Predation
Robot Dust Bunnies
City of Phants
Rade’s Fury
Mechs vs. Dinosaurs
A Captain's Crucible
Flagship
Test of Mettle
Cradle of War
Planet Killer
Worlds at War
Science Fiction
The Forever Gate Series
The Dream
A Second Chance
The Mirror Breaks
They Have Wakened Death
I Have Seen Forever
Rebirth
Walls of Steel
The Pendulum Swings
The Last Stand
Thrillers
The Ethan Galaal Series
Clandestine
A Cold Day in Mosul
Terminal Phase
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Copyright © 2017 by Isaac Hooke
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Cover design by Isaac Hooke
Cover image by Shookooboo
1
“So you’re basically going to cut open my skull and replace a portion of my cerebral cortex with microchips?” Tane said.
The grinning synthetic nodded. “While the procedure isn’t quite so invasive as that in most cases, you’re essentially correct. For a human, you’ve got all sorts of smarts.”
Tane frowned, but the dapper synthetic merely continued to smile.
“I could do without the snark,” Tane said. “You are a robot, you know.”
“Really?” the synthetic said. “I hadn’t noticed. And you started it. The snark, I mean.”
“Grr… so what’s the next step mister, er, what was your name again?” Tane checked its public profile as the words left his lips.
“Call me Ishmael,” the synthetic said. The name didn’t match the profile.
Wondering if he was missing something, Tane glanced at the query area provided by his augmented reality glasses, or ARs, where a small question mark overlaid the upper left of his vision. Other symbols resided in different quadrants of his vision, and altogether composed his heads up display, or HUD.
The query symbol enlarged when he focused on it and he was presented with a series of options. He focused on “explain last remark.”
“Call me Ishmael,” the pleasant female voice of Bitchin’ Betty intoned for Tane’s ears alone. He wasn’t sure exactly how it worked. Something about vibrations transmitting through the AR frame into his skull, directly to his inner ear. “Reference to ancient literature. Meaning in present context, unknown: potentially meant as a humorous remark. View detailed search results?”
Tane dismissed the query. Even more confused, he looked at the robot and said: “Your profile says your name is Headphone Jack.”
“Then call me Jack,” the synthetic replied.
Tane felt he was missing something, but resisted the urge to look up the full name on the Galnet. Instead he merely shook his head and said: “Robot humor, I just don’t get it.”
“All robots are like this,” Jenna said. She was from a neighboring hydroponics farm. As was Greg, who had also come with him on his jaunt to the big city. “That’s what happens when you have all of human history and literature available at your fingertips. While we humans have to look up references like these, to a robot, they’re actual memories.”
“Your girlfriend is astute,” Jack said.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Tane said.
“After I’ve chipped you,” the synthetic said. “You’ll be that much closer to robotkind. You too will have all pop culture references from the past millennia directly accessible like memories. Imagine how much fun you’ll be at parties.”
“Was that a note of sarcasm I detected in your voice?” Tane asked.
“Just a small one,” Jack admitted.
“We should go,” Jenna told him.
“Nope,” Tane said. “I’ve made up my mind. I’ve been saving up for this for the past two years. I’m not going to turn back now.” He spun on the robot. “So do you want my hard earned creds or not?”
“Why, yes,” the synthetic said. “I’ll never say no to credits.”
“Then let’s do this,” Tane said.
Greg chuckled beside him. “This is why farm boys like us should never spend a week in the big city. We get drunk on the last day and end up with a chip in our heads when we wake up the next morning.”
“Except I’m not drunk,” Tane told his friend. “I’m in complete control of my facilities.”
“Then why did you just use that word instead of faculties?” Greg said.
“Uh,” Tane said. He held out his wrist to the synthetic. “Charge me before I change my mind.”
Jack scanned his wrist. “I’ve made the request.”
On Tane’s HUD an alert appeared. Bitchin’ Betty read it aloud to him: “Ardent Microchipping Solutions wishes to withdraw two thousand credits from your account. Do you accept?”
That was nearly everything he had saved up over the past two years.
Tane was beginning to change his mind already, and he quickly focused on the “yes” option.
“Thank you,” Jack said. “I’ve transferred the necessary credits from your account. Follow me, please.” The synthetic glanced at Greg and Jenna. “Take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable. Order a tea. We’ll be a while.”
“How long, exactly?” Jenna asked.
“About two hours,” Jack said.
“Good thing I just bought a new AR game,” Greg said. “Don’t think I could take two hours with Jenna alone.”
“Ha,” Jenna said.
Tane followed the synthetic into a back room and in a moments found himself strapped into a chair underneath a menacing looking robot with telescoping limbs. It looked like a big spider.
“Is that thing really going to cut open my
skull?” Tane asked.
“No,” Jack said. “As I mentioned, the procedure is non-invasive. Usually. Once the nanotech and the necessary molecular building blocks are injected, the chip will be fabricated directly inside of your skull. Like building a ship in a bottle. Unless complications arise.”
“What sort of complications?” Tane asked.
“Nothing you need concern yourself with,” the synthetic replied. “I’ll have to do a rudimentary brain scan first, of course. But before we begin, please sign the mandatory waiver.”
Tane received a share request. When he accepted, pages of legalese overlaid his HUD. He skimmed over it, then quickly grew bored and scrolled to the bottom. Before entering his digital signature, he said: “Can you give me a quick summary?”
“Certainly,” Jack said. “You agree to indemnify and hold harmless Ardent Microchipping Solutions should anything untoward happen to you. It’s standard boilerplate stuff. I’m sure you’ve seen it before.”
“Mm. Okay.” Tane entered his digital signature.
“Thank you,” Jack said. “Your glasses, please.”
Tane removed his ARs and set them down on the provided tray. Without his HUD, the world seemed to take on a duller sheen.
Jack merely looked at the spider robot: on cue it jerked to life and moved over Tane’s face, resting a cold half-circle of metal against his forehead. And then he felt the telescoping digits press into his head on all sides.
Two small probes slid in front of his eyes, and then a white beam momentarily blinded him. As the circular afterimage faded, he spotted a red light flashed on a console nearby.
“Well that’s interesting…” Jack said.
“What?”
“Nothing,” the synthetic said.
“Anything I should be worried about?” Tane pressed.
“Nothing at all. I’ll now be administering the anesthetic.”
One of those telescoping limbs maneuvered in front of Tane. On the tip was a small anesthesia face mask.
“You said the procedure is non-invasive, right?” Tane asked.
The face mask slid firmly over Tane’s nose and mouth.
“That’s right,” Jack said. “Unless something goes wrong.”
Tane could feel the oxygen blowing against his nose and lips, but otherwise he didn’t smell anything. As he continued breathing, he was overcome by an incredible grogginess.
TANE BLINKED. He had a sudden throbbing headache. He didn’t remember falling unconscious. But he must have, because the spider had been moved to the far side of the room and Jack was shining a light into his eyes.
“There you are,” Jack said.
Overlaying the world was the usual augmented reality HUD. Tane realized he wasn’t wearing glasses anymore, though.
“It’s like I’ve got a HUD tattooed onto the inside of my eyeball,” Tane said.
“In a way, you have,” the synthetic said. He then asked Tane a series of questions.
“What city are we in?”
“Kalindor,” Tane said.
“Planet?”
“Galtede Serpentis,” Tane said.
“System?”
“Verakech.”
“What day is it?”
“Tuesday.”
“Month?”
“March.”
“Year?”
“3134.”
“On a scale from zero to six, how bad is your headache?”
“Five.”
“Do you have neck pain?”
“No.”
“Nausea?”
“No.”
“Blurred vision?”
“No.”
“All right, I’d like to pose a thought question,” Jack said. “If Earth were the size of an atom, how big would the Universe be?”
“I don’t know?” Tane said.
Jack nodded. “Of course not. Maybe after you add fifty points to Intelligence you’ll be able to answer that. But until then, tell me: does my name have any new meaning to you?”
“Your name…”
“Yes,” Jack said. “Look at my nametag.”
Tane’s eyes fell to the nametag. Headphone Jack.
“Ah, I get it now,” Tane said. “Headphone Jack. In ancient times, humans once wore devices called headphones to listen to music. They’d plug those headphones into music players via something called a headphone jack. By choosing that name, you’re making a play on words, poking fun at the fact you’re a robot.”
“Very good,” Jack said. “Notice that you didn’t have to look that up. You just knew. Your mind is connected to the cloud. How does it feel to join the ranks of the civilized?”
“Very weird.” Tane studied the synthetic. “And there’s something else. Earlier, you told me to call you Ishmael. I’m guessing you said that because Ishmael was sent away by his father, forced to wander in the desert for years and years. By telling me to call you Ishmael, you were making a statement on the plight of robots.”
“Also good,” Jack said. “We’ll have you understanding synthetic humor yet. Now stand.”
Tane slid his feet off the chair and stood.
“Touch the tip of your nose five times.”
Tane did so.
“Remove your shoes and walk in a straight line.”
Tane kicked off his dirty loafers and placed one foot in front of the other until her reached the far wall.
“Return to me. Also in a straight line.”
Tane spun around and strode back to the synthetic.
Jack nodded. “Well, all seems to be good. This will help with you headache.” He applied a sonic injector to Tane’s neck. Instantly the painful throbbing Tane felt in his temples receded to a dim thumping.
Tane slid his shoes back on, then studied himself in a nearby mirror. His hair had been completely shaved off, and near the top of his head a bright red scar ran all around the perimeter of his skull.
“I thought the procedure was non-invasive,” Tane said, suddenly horrified.
“Something went wrong…” Jack said.
“Details, robot!” Tane said.
“I had problems getting the nanotech to take,” Jack said. “For some reason, the little machines didn’t want to recognize you as human.”
“Am I?” Tane said.
“Of course you are,” Jack said. “The nanotech had simply never encountered a human quite like you before.”
“Is that common?” Tane asked.
“Depends,” Jack said. “It’s more common in the Outrim than anywhere else. In any case, after opening up your skull I was able to complete the procedure. I manually installed the missing microchips, and that helped me override the nanotech, forcing them to recognize your DNA as human. Once that happened, our little microscopic builders completed the necessary interconnections between your brain cells. All of that extra work was done free of charge, of course, and you’ll be glad to hear that any future nanotech injections you receive will take instantly. Welcome to the Machine Age.”
Tane ran a finger along the scar.
“It will fade to pink with time,” Jack said. “And in a month, the scar won’t be visible at all. Your hair will cover it completely. Though if you prefer the shaven look, any cosmetic surgeon worth his salt can get rid of the scar for you.”
Tane turned around to look at the synthethic.
“So do you feel any different?” Jack asked.
“Other than my strange new ability to understand robot humor and ancient idioms like ‘worth one’s salt,’ no, not really,” Tane said. “That’s kind of surprising. I thought I’d be a new man.”
“You are. You just don’t know it yet.”
“So how do my new abilities work, exactly?” Tane asked. “What else can I do?”
There were some new symbols on his HUD. He tried one of them and was presented with a list of parameters and gauges representing the levels of various hormones throughout his body. Bitchin’ Betty’s voice narrated it all. Tane was surprised to hear her
: Jack must have already transferred over the database and settings he had stored in his AR glasses. He promptly went in and disabled the voice, as it was a bit unsettling to hear it without AR goggles in place, and he confirmed that all his favorite digital folders were on hand.
“You’re in complete control of your body now,” the synthetic said. “You have access to your blood glucose levels, heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, everything. And you can regulate them manually, if you so choose. Or allow your autonomic nervous system to continue managing it for you. You’re also in complete control of your endocrine system.”
“How does that work?” Tane asked. “If I jack up testosterone, for example, will my muscle mass increase?”
“There is a manual available. Go to your My Stuff folder.”
“Oh, of course,” Tane said. “My Stuff. Silly me.”
“Though I’d advise against manually regulating your hormones,” Jack said, ignoring the sarcasm. “You shouldn’t jack up testosterone in an effort to boost muscle mass, unless you want to grow breasts in the process. It’s best to let the nanotech build your muscles.”
“That way I keep paying Ardent Microchipping Solutions to buy more of their nanotech, huh?” Tane said.