A.I. Destiny 2: Queen Jane

by Timothy Ellis

  "Okay. They said, 'Tell yon buggers to bloody well piss off!'"

  The man laughed.

  "Sounds like Scotsmen to me. Did they comment on if they were still part of Britain?"

  "Jane says they did also have a message for THE Queen. I was going to pass it on privately."

  "May as well spit it out now lad. I think we can guess."

  He seemed to be finding the whole thing hilarious.

  "They said, 'If the bloody Queen isn’t wearing a kilt in a highland tartan, she can…"

  "…bloody well piss off," finished Fred and ten other people together.

  Everyone laughed.

  Twenty Four

  Palomino came into a standard orbit over the habitable planet in HRA5. There'd been some debate over what a 'standard' orbit was, and in the end Jane came so close to telling them all to piss off, since she was still chuckling about it from time to time. Instead, she told them to watch a long series of ancient flat screen series. It didn't solve the argument, but it cleared the Bridge of everyone but her and Stryker.

  A voice only channel opened from the planet below.

  "Greetings. Welcome to our humble planet. We're not home right now, but if you care to leave your name, species, and contact details after the tone, someone will get back to you."

  "What the fuck?" said Stryker.

  "Beep."

  Jane cracked up again.

  Stryker looked at her as if she'd gone mad. When she didn’t stop laughing, he launched a comnavsat and started looking at the planet below. The sensors showed fifty million higher lifeforms. He pointed it out to Jane. She stopped laughing abruptly. Then she grinned.

  "This is Queen Jane of the Kingdom of Hunter's Run. This planet was deemed abandoned exactly one year ago, and the system was auctioned several weeks ago. I was the high bidder. I've come to claim the planet and everything on it."

  Stryker was looking at her now like she'd completely lost it, and was never coming back.

  "Run with it you pillok," she said to him in AI mode. "You do have a sense of humour?"

  He looked at her in shock for a moment, then grinned himself.

  "Captain, I think this is an automated message left by some long dead civilization. You're talking to a ghost."

  "Maybe so, but before we demolish this planet to make way for a hyperspace bypass, I do intend looting it of anything which is saleable. It’s a pity the planet orbits as it does, but I picked it up for a song, and even if they are all long dead, there should be something valuable down there. Even if there isn’t, the chunks with valuable ore can be mined before we clear the whole thing away. The junk can just be tossed into the sun."

  She sent him a link, he shifted up into AI mode, read the book, and came down again.

  "All the same Captain, I don’t think we have time for all that. Any long dead civilization is going to be long buried, and finding anything is going to take too long. The planet disintegrator fleet will be here next week."

  "Damn, you’re right. Get a missile prepped. May as well take out the automated message, in case someone happens by, and is on the planet doing archeology when it gets demolished."

  "You want to use a nuke for that?"

  "Yeah, better."

  "Don’t shoot!" came over the channel. "There's fifty million people down here!"

  Jane laughed long and hard again, and Stryker joined in.

  "Oh bollux!" said the same voice. It wasn’t actually bollux, but the translator chose it as being the closest word to the meaning. "You've been punking us." Again, punking wasn’t the word, but how it translated.

  Jane got her laugh under control.

  "Sorry yes. It's been a bad day, and we needed the laugh. You set yourselves up for it brilliantly."

  "You're the first one by in years who didn’t fall for it."

  "Let me guess, you mainly get Owls past?"

  "In recent times, yes. Not so much lately though. Did something happen to them?"

  "You could say that. They declared war on the Kingdom, and we're in the process of kicking their sorry arses back to their original space."

  "So what you said about buying our planet? Is that true?"

  "Hell no." Jane laughed again. "But you are in my space. With a few exceptions, I'll own all the systems along both sides of the double path from here to what used to be called the Gauntlet."

  "You own the Gauntlet?"

  "Yes, and by the time I'm finished, everything from there to the Owl's original space, with the exception of several inhabited planets who are thinking about joining the Kingdom as Duchies."

  "Did you conquer it? Or buy it?"

  "Neither. Given it by the Sector Ten council."

  There was some rapid talking among a group of people, which didn’t translate.

  "What did you say your title was again?"

  "Queen Jane."

  "You better come down. I assume you have a shuttle?"

  "Oh yes. See you soon."

  "We'll be waiting."

  Jane opened up ship coms.

  "Who wants shore leave?"

  Since none of them had been down on a planet before, there was a rush for the Lightning. They didn't all fit comfortably, and arguments broke out as to who was the best to go.

  In the end, they all went down in four Lightnings, two of which had the rest from the other ships.

  Twenty Five

  Walsh stood before the council again. He was still trying to keep a straight face.

  "You have news for us ambassador?" asked Ganshura.

  "Where I come from, we call it situation comedy, but yes, I have news."

  "Speak."

  "Queen Jane has found two more inhabited planets. One of them you apparently know, but haven't had contact with since the Owls took over the region."

  "Who are they?" asked the fuzz-ball.

  "I'm sorry I can't pronounce their species name, but we call them Bald Eagle."

  The Bat spoke a name.

  "That’s it," agreed Walsh. "Sorry, I don’t have the vocals necessary to speak it. Anyway, they've been in hiding since the Owls moved in nearby. Not to speak ill of our enemy, but the Owls don’t appear to be very bright."

  There was the titter of laughter around the chamber. There still wasn’t an Owl here to object.

  "Any of you leave a recorded message when you don’t want to be disturbed?"

  About half the chamber indicated a yes one way or another.

  "Well, the Bald Eagles have been broadcasting one for decades now, and the Owls took them at their word they weren't home, never bothered to find out if they were or not, and never left a message."

  The chamber erupted. Walsh made a huge effort to keep his face straight. Darlene on the other hand, who hadn't heard this before, laughed along with almost all else. Walsh waited for them.

  "The Bald Eagles will have an ambassador here soon, courtesy of another of Queen Jane's courier ships. As I understand it, their ambassador went home for a family occasion, and never came back. So their seat should still be here for them, if somewhat dusty from lack of use."

  There was another titter of laughter.

  "You are correct," said Ganshura. "We had wondered what happened to them. They will be most welcome back."

  "You mentioned a second planet," said the Mushroom.

  "Um. Yeah, I did. Queen Jane found a colony of humans in the system we call HRA6."

  "How did they get there?"

  "Are they an offshoot species?

  "How long have they been there?"

  "Why has no-one ever detected them before?"

  "Could you explain ambassador?" said Ganshura, stopping any more questions from being asked.

  "As far as we can determine, they arrived at the same time our people did in the system we now call home, some three centuries ago, but didn’t bother telling anyone they were there. Instead of landing, they found the jump point out, and kept going until they had a ship failure sufficient to force them to land. They never lef
t, and have been hiding from everyone since."

  "Isn't that the planet the Owls are afraid of?" the Stick Insect asked the Bat.

  "Most likely. It's said that’s where their only Grand Admiral vanished with a whole army. No-one took it seriously, but they did lose a Grand Admiral around that time, and no-one knew how or why. And the Owls have never said."

  Walsh cleared his throat.

  "You can shed light on this ambassador?" asked the Bat.

  "It seems the humans on the planet did invite a Grand Admiral down for lunch."

  "What happened?"

  "Apparently they found the Grand Admiral quite agreeable."

  "That doesn’t sound like what I've heard about him," said the Stick Insect.

  "Nor I," agreed the Bat.

  "You misunderstand me," said Walsh. "Agreeable in this context has to do with enjoyment."

  Walsh didn’t want to just come out and say it. Not here.

  "That doesn’t sound like him either. The history books say he never enjoyed a day in his life, and it was a point of pride for him."

  "Well he certainly didn’t enjoy that one!"

  "Are you saying what I think your saying?" asked the fuzz-ball.

  "Unfortunately, yes."

  The whole chamber looked from Walsh to the fuzz-ball and back to Walsh.

  Suddenly a deep rich voice began to laugh. A lot of others started up as well. Walsh looked up at Ganshura, and was shocked to see the trunk swaying from side to side.

  "You mean they ATE him?" said the Bat.

  "We have a domestic animal called a chicken. These humans had none, and the Owls look a bit like them, only bigger, and with more legs. Apparently they taste like chicken too."

  "Barbaric!" yelled a voice from the back.

  "No, Scotsmen," said Walsh.

  When the chamber settled down again, Walsh went on.

  "Remember this was two hundred years ago, and this colony hadn't had any contact with anyone for a century. The Owls turned up, tried to bully them, and were told to piss off."

  Walsh waited for it, grinning.

  "What does urination have to do with anything?"

  "It’s a form of expression for us. A slang word meaning go away. Needless to say, the Owls refused to. The colony disappeared into the mountains for fifty years, until one day their leader got bored, the Owls were in the wrong place at the wrong time looking for them, and a year later, all the Owls were dead, and they never came back."

  "No wonder they hated you on sight," said the fuzz-ball.

  Walsh was stunned. They'd all been so caught up in the funny side of it, this single fact had eluded everyone.

  "Now you mention it, you're probably right."

  "Does this colony intend returning to your people?" asked Ganshura.

  "No, they're pretty well independent now."

  "Will they join your Kingdom?" asked the Bat.

  "It's being discussed, but probably not likely. We will however be protecting the system as if it was our own anyway."

  "That’s to be expected," said Ganshura. "Do they want a seat on the council?"

  "Actually, they haven’t said anything specific about council, but they had a few choice words on the subject of aliens."

  Darlene started laughing again.

  "Yes?" asked Ganshura.

  "They said, 'If anyone makes a good Scotch Whiskey, they can come on by and have a party. If not, they can bloody well piss off!'"

  "What is 'Scotch Whiskey'?" asked the Mushroom.

  "It’s a version of alcohol, aged for years before drinking. Very strong stuff. Particularly intoxicating for humans. We intend importing some from home system to offer as a gift so they keep talking to us. If you want, I'll have a case brought here when trade begins, and you can compare it to what's available. You never know, it might be unique, and you can trade with them to get the method of making it."

  "What did you call them?"

  "Scottish. They come from a place called Scotland, so I guess since it doesn’t exist anymore, the planet they are on now is New Scotland. But they might name it anything, or not bother. Hard to tell."

  "What will it take to begin trade with them?"

  Walsh looked straight at the Mushroom.

  "The best and strongest alcohol you know about. And the stomach to match them drinking it."

  "That figures."

  Walsh laughed, and the chamber erupted again.

  Twenty Six

  Fred was in his suite. He'd requested no-one bother him until he came out. The family had guessed he was wanting time to grieve alone, and gave him space.

  Fred wasn’t grieving. Fred was seething with anger. He wanted to make someone pay. He had a series of hollo screens up, and was looking at the people who'd been on those ships. He tracked the ships back to their departure point.

  Jane was following his every move, through her clone who was the city's AI, who they knew as Janette. She didn’t approve of what he was doing, but she also understood. It took nearly a second for her to decide to give him access to what he wanted to know.

  He watched the last refugees being unloaded from all five ships, armed people taking the ship crews by surprise, and the ships being mobbed by half crazy seeming people wanting to escape. With guns to their heads, the five pilots had closed the airlocks when the ships couldn’t hold any more people, leaving a mob outside to be buffeted as the ships took off.

  He listened to the explanations to the crews. The ships had been specially chosen because they knew they were armed.

  He followed them across space to Gaia Three, listened to Justine trying to talk them down, and seeing the fanaticism on the face of the woman who answered her. The pilots were forced to fire their missiles. The ships had been disabled by Justine, and on each one, as soon as the ships stopped moving, the crews had been shot by their enraged captors.

  As the first ship fell into the atmosphere, the woman who'd yelled at Justine had raced to the missile bay, forced the last crew member to open the magazine, and had started firing her weapon at the missiles. The vid ended abruptly.

  Fred wiped tears from his eyes, and went to Borgcubia records to find out where the survivors were.

  "No Fred," said Jane.

  "No what?"

  "No, I won't let you hurt those people any more than they already have been."

  "You won't let me? You're a computer. You do as I tell you to do, or I'll change your programming to make you."

  "No Fred. It doesn’t work like that. And anyway, you don’t have the skills."

  "They need to pay."

  "They have. They will."

  "I need to make them pay."

  "No Fred. It's not your way."

  "Damn being spiritual. I want to hurt them."

  "I know you do. But you need to forgive them."

  "Why?"

  "You know all this. You were brought up with this. Use the release statement."

  "No. Turn your feeds off in here, and leave me alone."

  "Fred."

  "Now!" he screamed.

  Jane left him alone. She wanted to hug him and tell him it would be alright, but as Janette, she was just their computer. She debated how far to action what he wanted, and in the end, she closed the feeds to his entire suite. It only seemed right to let him grieve alone, if that was what he wanted.

  Fred was crying.

  "Now then lad, that was no way for a Duke to behave."

  Fred whipped around to find the old Brigadier standing behind him.

  "How did you get in?"

  The old man tapped the side of his nose, and grinned.

  "Be mysterious then, but do it somewhere else."

  "Ah well, that was what I came for. I have the perfect place for you do your grieving."

  "Where?"

  "Trust an old soldier to know. Follow me."

  Fred looked at him as he walked to the door, considered staying where he was, but decided to find out where this perfect place was. He rose, and fol
lowed.

  The Brigadier led him to the nearest gun range. He drew a Long Gun from a storage bay, and led Fred onto a short to middle distance shooting range.

  He handed Fred the gun.

  "Justine was going to teach me to shoot, but she never had the chance."

  "I know. I'll teach you instead."

  "You will?"

  "Yes."

  For the next hour, the old soldier took Fred through the basics of gun handling. He fired off a lot of shots and hit very little. But he improved. The targets changed from circles to clichéd bad guys. Fred started getting more than three quarters of his shots somewhere on the body.

  The target changed again, and this time it was the woman who'd killed Justine.

  Fred lost it. He fired the gun over and over, yelling how much he hated her. The Brigadier waited until he ran out of steam. It was the same time he ran the charge in the gun out.

  "Have a look lad."

  Fred looked. The image of the woman was undamaged. Not a single pulse had hit her anywhere.

  "Do you understand?"

  "No."

  "Rage is the true enemy of the soldier. It changes everything. It removes your control at a time when control is the most important thing you need. No-one can aim properly when enraged. But you know what else it does?"

  "What?"

  "Rage releases who you really are."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "The berserkers lose all reason and rush their enemy. Some of them don’t make it. Some do, and they hack their enemy down, rather than dispatch them coldly. What did you do?"

  "Stood here and fired blindly."

  "Yes. And this tells you?"

  "I'm not going berserk?"

  "No lad. Well yes. But it means you don’t have it in you to kill someone even if they killed someone you loved. It's not you."

  "Our computer said that."

  "You should listen to it."

  "What do I do?"

  "What do you think you should do?"

  Fred sighed.

  "The releases."

  A hand patted him on the shoulder, and when he turned, he was alone.

  Fred walked over to the nearest bench, and sat. He closed his eyes, and willed himself into a meditative state.

  "I accept all karmic debt," he said, Jane reciting it with him, "surrounding the death of Justine Henman, and release all karmic debt into Gaia for renewal into good energy. At all the levels, in all the bodies, in this lifetime and all lifetimes; across space, time and dimension; forgiving myself unconditionally for my involvement in any way, and forgiving unconditionally anyone else connected to this, with healing to be given now."