by Tobias Roote
Zeke activated his implant which had included Arty in its interface since the Nubl skirmish. ‘
Zeke: Arty, your sense of humour is going to get your plug pulled one of these days, he chuckled into his implant.
Arty’s voice came through in a quieter tone than the one he boomed out across the station.
Arty: You are the first Admiral of the fleet, Zeke. You may prefer it to be ’title only’, but you should know that the majority of the fleet members, as well as those on this station, hold you in high regard and respect your position – even if you don’t take it seriously.
Zeke considered himself admonished.
Zeke: Ah, you’re right, Arty. I should at least try and behave properly according to my new status. In the meantime, have you any idea what got Pod into a tizz, she fairly dumped me out of the ship just now. I consider myself lucky to have been in the hangar at the time, or I would be a frozen corpse.
Arty: I think Pod is still having issues integrating its new processors.
That was all Arty would say but Zeke suspected it knew or understood more than it was saying, especially as a lot of the base system programmed into the station had been coded by Pod and integrated into Arty’s AI consciousness. They were both Jenari/human AI hybrids and probably had a little of the same problem. Arty’s stronger terrestrial make-up helped it integrate itself with the station’s operation and it came across more human-like every time Zeke visited.
“Where’s my console gone, Arty?” Zeke asked out loud. He had expected his station to erupt out of the floor in its usual place, but it hadn’t appeared.
“It’s been moved according to your new rank, sir,” Arty responded.
“If you would like to wait a second, Admiral, we will show you the new command structure we have designed for the Bridge. We have been awaiting your arrival to implement it.” A young operator appeared by Zeke’s side and all of the other technicians moved to the front of the room, leaving their consoles unmanned.
Once they were all at the front, a gentle klaxon sounded and the consoles disappeared into the floor as the nanites were reabsorbed into the main floor structure. Then the deck itself began to change. Quickly and efficiently, it raised onto three different levels with walkways between and on either side, and a large open area at the front. Looking down at his feet, Zeke noticed the decking, previously dark grey, was now a deep blue with the emblem of the Space Navy emblazoned in gold at the new front main area. The urge to step away from the encroaching colour was instinctive and more than one person skipped about as the deck changed beneath them.
The consoles reappeared, this time in a wide continuous circuit broken only by the walkways with three semi-circular stations on increasing levels. At the top behind all of them, a main console with a large chair rose up.
Arty who had been concentrating all his processing efforts on pulling up the massive amount of nanite material to form this new complex Command Control Centre, now had spare capacity with which to speak.
“Admiral Callaghan, if you would like to call your crew to their stations we can proceed with the new bridge operation immediately.”
“Amazing! Truly amazing,” Zeke laughed and turned to the group who were smiling at him, some were even clapping. They all looked immensely proud. Zeke realised they had all been involved in the design of the new bridge and were as excited as he was. He nodded his approval. “Very nice,” he congratulated them.
Then with a wink and a sparkle in his eye to show he really didn’t take himself seriously, even now, “to your stations, ladies and gentlemen,” he ordered with a dramatic sweeping gesture.
As they trooped up to their consoles, Zeke followed behind them inspecting their stations and admiring the way it was constructed. In his mind, the fact that people had gone to the trouble of designing all this, spoke volumes of their commitment to the station. Arty wouldn’t have come up with this alone. They were telling him they had settled in and considered it their home. He was pleased, more so for Pod who, having built it, had succeeded in putting humankind into space on a permanent basis. No mean feat for the little AI.
Zeke walked to his own console and admired the way the screens had been built into a curved area that also encompassed his seat. When he sat down he realised he could still view each individual work area clearly, partially because of his enhanced vision, but also because the layout had anticipated his need to do so.
Looking at the far wall, he took note of the curved view screen covering half the wall, which by some twist of graphics, showed an unbroken view of the exterior of the station.
Arty had been monitoring his eye movements so had known when he had looked up, now interrupted him on his implant.
Arty: Admiral, the main view screen is currently showing the front half of the asteroid in real-time. On command to ‘split-screen’, it can divide to show front and rear.
Arty demonstrated as he spoke in Zeke’s ear.
Over the next thirty minutes Zeke was trained in the new upgraded command facilities, including the armaments and station defences. In his absence the station had become a formidable platform for the future defence of Earth.
Arty and Pod had used every single piece of knowledge and technology extracted by the scientists from the Nubl ships to protect them from further attacks. Earth’s ability to develop new and devastating weaponry, based on this advanced science, would prepare them for the inevitable full-scale attack. All seemed good to Zeke - so far.
The remainder of the day was spent running attack drills. Arty prepared simulations using graphics on the view screens and mock sensor readings to put the new crews through their paces. They had not yet had to deal with a real live attack, but when it happened, Arty, Pennington and Zeke fully intended for the teams, three crews altogether, to be ready and able to cope. Zeke would probably not be on the station preferring to be out with Pod in direct action, however, he recognised the need for the crews to see he was as involved in this training as they were.
***
While bringing the last training session to a close, Zeke’s implant buzzed, and opened a connection automatically.
Pod: Zeke, Pennington wants to know if you have wrapped up the training schedule for today?
Zeke: What does he need? I can leave this now if it’s important.
Arty: He wants me to jump him to the station. Are you OK with that, Admiral?
Arty reminded Zeke that he had an official capacity and protocols needed to be established.
Zeke: Yes, ’beam him up’, Arty.
He chuckled at his reference to the old films, which, of course, neither of the AIs would appreciate without a long explanation. He transferred the bridge to his new XO and thanked the crew for their day’s efforts, and made his way to the room that had been outfitted at the rear of the control centre, much like the ready-room on a large spaceship. He pulled up a chair at his real wood desk that had been D-jumped from Space Island.
Arty was very precise, depositing Zeke’s visitor right behind one of the guest chairs. As Pennington tried to maintain his composure at the sudden change in gravity and air pressure, Zeke walked over to his bar and poured two large whiskeys, and was already passing one to his friend, Pennington as he began to apologise for the short notice for the meeting.
Zeke wasn’t bothered at all. He had anticipated the visit and guessed that Arty had deliberately waited until the end of the series of simulations before allowing the meeting.
“I see you have been putting your bridge teams through their paces in terms of simulations. How do you think they will manage in a real fight, Zeke?”
“I’m not certain yet, but the First Officer, Galbraith, you sent up here is excellent, he definitely knows how to pull the crew together. I found he was pulling me along for the ride.” In fact Galbraith had been training him harder than the crew, making sure that Zeke learned the jobs of the technicians as well as the command structure within the station’s bridge. Zeke had no idea that being an admiral
would be such hard work. The whiskey in his hand wasn’t going to be his last today.
“Yes, he’s used to command at sea. I managed to steal him from the US Navy, one of their best, I understand.
Anyway, I came here on another matter. We still have a confidence problem down at HQ and some concerns are bubbling into a real worry. Big enough that I needed to see what we can collectively do about it.” He stopped and took a slug of whiskey enjoying the feel of it hitting the back of his throat before continuing. “The thing is, these AIs are more responsible for our defences than our people would like them to be. Heck! Even I don’t have access to them half the time. They have so much control and speed in their responses, they outmatch us by a factor of ten while running fight simulation exercises - it sucks pilot moral down into the ‘Pits of Hell’.”
He took another long draw from his tumbler, the fine whiskey flavour not lost on him even now. He cocked an eyebrow at Zeke and went on.
“The fighter pilots are getting antsy because several of them had situations in the battle with the Nubl, where the AIs just ignored their demands to proceed into dangerous territory purely on the AIs analysis of the poor odds. These pilots knew the odds were bad, but felt it was their decision as to whether they put themselves at risk, or not.”
He hadn’t finished and Zeke could see that he had a head of steam running its course. He let him work it out of his system giving the whiskey time to do its work.
“Then we have the sentinels that Pod developed and were controlled throughout the invasion by Arty and Pod. The SICC, we’ve shortened Space Island Control Centre to just initials, in case you hadn’t heard,” he smiled, but it was more of a grimace. “The SICC weren’t given access to that weapon until AFTER the battle was over.
Lastly, we have this station here. Built without human involvement, or knowledge for that matter, weaponry installed and automated by an AI, that hadn’t even been tested to check if it was functional in its capacity and which could easily have wiped us out instead of the Nubl.
My ears have been burning naphtha from the members of the Space Council giving me grief and the morale in the SCN is about rock-bottom.” He rolled his glass between his hands, the latent stress in him surfacing. It had been a bad time and he was just realising how difficult the AIs had made his job. His own credibility had taken hit after hit in the aftermath of the battle and Zeke hadn’t been there to defend him, or the SCN.
“At the back of all this is the fear that we are ill equipped to fight this war against the Nubl without putting more AIs in control. There are many who believe we are creating our own monster - and excuse me, but I agree with this - what is to stop us starting the next Nubl alien race. What safeguards do we have to ensure they don’t turn around and annihilate the human race, as the Nubl did the Jenari?”
Pennington sat back and drained his glass looking totally beaten up. He had worked hard with Zeke and the science teams to pull off as much technology as they could to even gain a fighting chance against the Nubl. None of it would have been possible without the AIs involvement. The council’s decision to blame him and the President for using AIs was not sitting easy with him.
Zeke looked down at his glass twirling it on the desk as he thought for a moment, digesting what he had just heard. Some of it he had already been pre-warned about by Frank Garner. He had overheard others down on the flight deck as the pilots were gathering around their fighters after the last sortie.
Giving himself more time to answer, Zeke got up and refilled their glasses. While he was doing that he clicked his implant.
Zeke: Did you both catch all of that?
Arty: We did, Zeke. It’s bad news that we’re not trusted down there. I’m working on the problem right now.
Pod clicked Zeke’s implant, doing something to it and knocking Arty out of the circuit
Pod: Zeke, they are right about all of it, including Arty. There is already too much involvement by AIs making decisions without time for humans to be consulted. There isn’t any alternative unless some way can be made to link the human and the AIs so that communication can be faster.
Zeke: You’re saying they need cyber-links to function as teams, or not at all?.
Pod: Something along those lines needs to be developed. OR, there is an alternative whereby the humans take over and the AIs functions are run in reduced mode which will greatly impair the reaction speed of any defences.
Zeke: Not good, Pod, we need to think cleverer than that. We could have a major problem if the Earth leaders decide they don’t want a repeat of the Nubl on home territory. Work on it and jump me over to the ship after Pennington has left, I’m bushed.
Zeke heard the click as the connection terminated.
Turning back to his desk, Zeke responded to Pennington’s concerns. “I’m aware of your issues, John, as are the AIs. Not much gets past them during the course of the day and I think they are as concerned as you are. If it’s any consolation, I don’t believe that Pod is ever likely to be a threat to Earth, and by virtue of being integrated into Alpha Station by Pod, that applies to Arty too. The other AIs shouldn’t be of a sufficiently high enough level to entertain any such thinking.”
Pennington looked at him, only partly mollified by Zeke’s response and the whiskey.
“I realise all that, Zeke, however it’s not just me you have to convince, and I’m equally concerned at how my people are supposed to run a war when the AIs involved on both sides seem to be fighting it without us. Whilst I appreciate you see both sides of the argument, you are, to many of the Space Council, more of a danger than the AIs because you wield far too much power - even though you never apply it,” he hastened to add.
“John, I’m not going to discuss something of nothing. I understand your concerns, but they are baseless and you know it. You and everyone out there, is going to have to learn to live with AIs. They are here and they won’t go away. Neither will they turn on you, despite what you think to the contrary.”
“Oh, well! It’s alright for you to say, Zeke– “
“No, John, it’s not a matter of it’s alright for me, we are all in this together. If it hadn’t been for an alien and his AIs, we wouldn’t even be here today. We wouldn’t even have seen the Nubl coming. Earth would be a glass-surfaced dead zone,” Zeke responded.
“The Nubl turned on their makers, Zeke.”
“Actually, John, from what I have read of the history that is known by the Jenari, the Nubl aren’t AIs so much as transmuted biological sentients. They were originally biological, but chose to become artificial lifeforms. They seem to re-invent themselves periodically to give themselves a technological boost. So, in point the Nubl are Transmutes, not AIs and so far there is no history of AIs eradicating sentients; Jenari, or human. So, to pre-judge them on an ill-conceived prejudice because Earth science fiction stories painted them as the evil enemy is short-sighted and paranoid.”
Pennington visibly paled at the revelation. “Transmutes? As in Cyborgs? Humans in machine bodies?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m still running background processes with Pod and Arty to enhance the historical records, some of which are incomplete due to the need for Jenari to scatter from Nubl extinction efforts. Our best efforts fall short of tracing their origins, but we do know they were once biologically sentient, NOT AI,” Zeke confirmed.
”I see,” Pennington mused, absorbing the impact of Zeke’s revelations. “Is there a possibility of our people having access to these records for our own verification?” He seemed to be thinking as he spoke. “We have people trained in astrobiology and other sciences that might be able to make sense of some of the information. It would forestall any serious antagonism towards the AIs if there could be verifiable proof of what you say.” He seemed happier but looked at Zeke in a way that indicated it wasn’t exactly a request.
“I will organise a download for you as soon as it can be stripped out of the general logs of the Jenari,” Zeke offered, nodding his tacit agreement at the
request.
Pennington sighed and placed his glass on the table in front of him, pushing it forward with the tips of his fingers.
Zeke had been thinking while he spoke and caught the opportunity to get something moving on it immediately while his friend was on the back foot..
“One last thing, John - I want three of your best fighter pilots with their AI ships to volunteer to work with myself and their AIs to find a way to improve the odds of both surviving another encounter with the Nubl.”
John nodded. “Yes, I can make that happen, Zeke. Consider it done.”
Zeke thought he had the germ of a solution and wanted to get some of the pilots on board to see if it would fly.
He and Pennington sank another drink, musing over the ramifications of the new Space Council’s demands that the SCN be answerable to the SC at all times. Both agreed it wasn’t going to work. The old ways would hamstring them and the SCN had been formed with the intention of defending Earth not running its affairs. There was nobody on the SCC qualified to make the decisions in a hostile environment. Equally there was nobody in the SCN capable of running Earth. The two were fundamentally separate objectives.
When Pennington was beamed back to Space Island by Arty, Zeke was jumped back to his ship where a fabricator meal awaited and his bunk beckoned. The full days workout had tired him, but he felt the station was capable of putting up a show of strength in a future attack. They just needed Earth to develop the same ability, but that was turning into a bigger battle than fighting the Nubl.
- 4 -
Beta Station
The space-suited scientists watched from their observation platform as the rock in front of them dissolved into a gloopy mess that oozed left and right of the asteroid’s surface. Meticulously separated into different compounds, the grains representing the most important material, were divided into their separate metals and welded into ingots by the nanites. The watching figures simply gaped in awe at the speed and complexity of the operation. The unwanted chewed-up rock dust, remained where it was placed, suspended in the vacuum ready to be transported.