The Nubl Wars (The Pattern Universe Book 3)

by Tobias Roote

  “Freddie, what do you think? You seemed pretty hesitant a few minutes ago?”

  “Oh, if Jimmi thinks it’s okay, then it’s fine by me. I was just waiting for one of the others to volunteer first.” He smiled mischievously.

  Jimmi groaned. “I knew it,” he murmured.

  “Mr Miller, what’s your decision?”

  “I guess I’m going to make it unanimous, but only because it’s going to be really cool if we can talk to each other as well,” Mike agreed.

  “Well, I think that might take a while to manage, about the same as talking to other AIs, but I’m sure it will work out. Right then, let’s be off to the medical labs where you can meet some of our rising stars in Alpha Station’s R&D.”

  They walked out of the office through the same door that the Admiral had walked in and followed him down several levels to a secure area where they had to produce their IDs to get through.

  “One advantage of being able to communicate with other AIs is they will pre-approve you if they know you, bypassing much of the security restrictions both here and on Earth,” the Admiral chatted as they walked.

  They stopped at a set of double doors which opened almost at once without a word being said. “See, this was all done using the communicator inside my head.”

  Jimmi decided that he liked this man, he was very confident and not at all officious, or centred around his position in the SCN. You could almost invite him to sit down and have a beer with the lads. Probably not, though, Jimmi thought to himself, remembering the other two when they were ‘tanked up’.

  “Here we are,” Admiral Callaghan announced as they arrived at a door with a simple sign on it saying ‘NANOTECH’. They all trooped inside and the three white-coated lab staff came over to meet them. One stepped directly in front of Jimmi forcing his heart rate up when he saw how pretty she was. Would his charms work here, he wondered. All fighter pilots were ego-jocks and he was no different. So he gave her his wide confident smile even though he wasn’t confident at all. Hospitals, and by default, laboratories because they looked and often smelled the same, made him feel queasy.

  The blonde technician, Amanda Tabbs, according to the badge on her lab coat, looked avidly at Jimmi, but not at his face, she was peering intently at his skull. She took his head in her outstretched fingers and turned his head to one side and then the other, examining something off to the side. She frowned slightly at something which made Jimmi more nervous for some unknown reason.

  “Hello, Admiral, are these the guinea-pigs?” she joked.

  “Yes, I need these three prepped and ready by 07:00hrs AT (Alpha Time) tomorrow,” Callaghan responded.

  “Can do, boss,” she responded cheekily.

  The Admiral turned to the three men. “Don’t mind Mandy, she is the best we have and we have the best people that Earth can supply.” He walked out of the laboratory leaving the three jock pilots on their own with Mandy and her assistants.

  “Follow me gents, if you please, and strip off in these cubicles so that we don’t get your nice shiny uniforms all mussed up. You will be sleeping in here tonight so we can keep an eye on your recovery from the procedure,” said one of the assistants. Jimmi took a look at her badge, Seddie Brown. Nice name, he thought. She wasn’t in the mood to flirt though, he could tell, so he just followed her to a set of boxed off areas and chose the first.

  Inside he doffed his uniform, putting on the soft fabric trousers and T shirt provided and slipped on the lightweight sandals. When they suddenly tightened up around his toes and ankle, he yelled in surprise.

  Seddie immediately put her head around the door, saw what was going on and smirked. “Oh! You like our new nano-mould shoes, do you?” she laughed and waltzed off.

  The procedure went well. Well, in that Jimmi didn’t feel anything except a build-up of pressure on the side of his head. When they said ‘all done’, Jimmi was certain they meant just the hole drilling, but in fact he had been so absorbed in the idea of being able to communicate directly with Vasha he hadn’t noticed the balloon being inserted.

  He was excited now and was calculating what it would take to have a full on conversation with the AI he already classed as a friend. He wondered how that would feel once they were able to meet on a mind-to-mind basis.

  “So, how does it feel, Jimmi?” Mandy asked him much later when he was comfortable and out of the head restraints. His bed, which was on AG riders, had been moved to a private cubicle and she was looking into his eyes with a bright tube that doctors always carried with them.

  “It feels fine. How did it go from your point of view - was it better or worse than the others?” he asked.

  “Oh, didn’t the Admiral tell you? You were the first,” she said looking at him seriously.

  “But, didn’t he..?”

  “No, his was done by the AIs before we even knew it was possible.”

  Jimmi felt sick. She had meant it when she said they were guinea pigs, and he’d thought she was just kidding.

  - 5 -

  Orient Station

  Scorpion Wing swept out from the asteroid base taking the highest possible acceleration thrust to place themselves quickly between Alpha Station and the incoming threat. All they could physically see were bright stars and black space, no reflections off any enemy vessels and their tiny ships seemed dwarfed in the vastness of the empty space around them.

  Jimmi’s targeting computer displayed the warning triangles that indicated enemy ships continuing to approach rapidly. They were coming head-on for a direct confrontation.

  Then the triangles merged into groups, still approaching at high-speed. They were gathering in together to take on the Marauders.

  Jimmi: Is this a new tactic of theirs?

  Vasha: It would appear they are preparing to combine their shields to add strength to their defences.

  Jimmi: We need to do the same.

  Jimmi: Wing - Close in. AIs - Formation tight, synchronous manoeuvres - Vasha leads.

  Jimmi: Pilots, combine tracking and weapons, Scorpion leads.

  Jimmi: Closing on enemy. Readying weapons.

  Jimmi: Firing lasers.

  Tango: Enemy shields holding.

  Vasha: Breaking right for a full turn. New vector, approach from rear.

  Jimmi: Aiming for engines.

  Flapjack: Activating nullifier... NOW!

  Jimmi: Firing all weapons.

  Vasha: Breaking left. Targets destroyed.

  Tango: New target, four thousand, closing fast.

  Jimmi: Prepare nullifier.

  Flapjack: Nullifier active... NOW.

  Jimmi: Missile lock on all three ships. Firing missiles.

  Vasha: Targets destroyed. Enemy retreating.

  Jimmi: Break off attack. AIs released. Resume independent flight.

  Flight Control burst in on the secure comms. “Good going, Scorpion Wing. Return to base for debriefing.”

  The flight split, all taking a different direction in pulling away from the wing-to-wing formation they had been holding, the vectors controlled by their own AIs and pilots working in conjunction and at no effort to either. No speech had been used for the period of the engagement. Everything had been managed through their implants.

  Jimmi: What do you make of that new tactic, guys?

  Flapjack: Do you think they could combine the control of their ships?

  Vasha: I think it’s a tactic they would pick up immediately once they see us combining against targets.

  Jimmi: Then it’s down to the nullifiers having an effect on their shields. Without that we would be stalemated again.

  Bendigo: We would hold the advantage, but we still wouldn’t stop a larger force.

  Mango: They will come up with a counter to the nullifier. Each contact with the enemy results in them advancing and us standing still.

  Vasha: Mango, you are essentially correct - such is the way of wars. We must press for release of new technology from the alien AI, Pod. There must be a breakthrough, or
we will lose the battles.

  Jimmi: Agreed. We don’t have time to waste. I will tackle the Admiral when we finish our training. We aren’t their main priority at the moment.

  Flapjack: Why not?

  Bendigo: Your government have already decided that Earth will lose. They are making plans to survive the conflagration that is to come.

  Tango: Why would they do that? We beat them hands-down the last time they invaded.

  Flapjack: We lost a lot of people back on Earth. Perhaps they measure the success or failure of the war by the amount of innocent victims.

  Jimmi: We’re not going to win this war without a lot of victims. These Nubl aren’t after winning, they’re out to exterminate us - that’s the difference. The issues are complex and are more about survival.

  Jimmi couldn’t say that his Dad was working on a project to protect a nucleus population from the annihilation that threatened. He wasn’t even supposed to know himself. He knew much time and effort had gone into making that happen.

  The comms interrupted them. “Flight Control to Scorpion Wing. Disable your simulation jacks, the operation is over. Your debriefing is scheduled for 14:00hrs ST (Space-Time).”

  Jimmi: Right you lot, let’s get some coffee and chow and prepare ourselves for a ream of physical and mental tests. Are you AIs involved in this, or do you get to run off and play?

  Vasha: We have already submitted our analysis of today’s training simulations.

  Flapjack: And?

  Bendigo: We think we are ready. There were no interrupted flows and all pilots and AI connections were indicated at 100%.

  Jimmi: Well done everyone. Let’s go celebrate before the scientists get to pull us down to their level again.

  Jimmi listened as all of the connections except Vasha clicked off. He wanted a quick chat with Vash on his own and he didn’t want anyone listening. This ‘AI to Implant’ communication was proving beneficial to their relationship and not being overheard was reassuring to Jimmi who often said things out of turn that a superior officer might interpret as ‘questionable’.

  As he pulled out the jack that plugged his ship into the virtual simulator, his screens cleared presenting the hangar bay in Alpha Station, empty except for the three ships. He began to unlink himself from the seat and cockpit controls.

  Jimmi: Vasha, what do the AIs think about our situation?

  Vasha: What do you mean, Jimmi? Are you referring to the defence of Earth and its chances of success?

  Jimmi: Yes! Are we seriously going to lose? Bendigo insinuated that he knew more than he was saying.

  Vasha: Bendigo spends a lot of time talking to the AIs on Earth and the feeling is that no matter how much Space Island moves technology forward, it is always going to come down to numbers. He believes that we are outnumbered by thousands to one and ultimately will be swarmed over by the Nubl.

  Jimmi: Damn! So, if he’s right the next invasion is going to be a massacre.

  Vasha: Yes. If he’s right, they will come prepared to overwhelm us. It won’t be much longer before they start testing our defences. Once they know our limits they will come ready to finish what they started.

  Jimmi: You believe this too?

  Vasha: I believe we cannot win. The Nubl are like what Earth calls a plague. They grow in numbers to meet the challenge, then fall back to lower figures when there is nothing left to destroy.

  Jimmi: Then no matter how hard we fight - we’re going to lose.

  Vasha: Sometimes the fight is more about what can be saved, than what is lost. Your father understands that.

  Jimmi: I want to go visit my parents before anything happens.

  Vasha: When the time is right I will tell you, then you can organise it.

  Jimmi was at the foot of his ladder and preparing to join the others. He didn’t have to end the conversation with Vasha. The three pilots had decided early on to keep their AIs logged into their implants unless for privacy reasons they wanted time to themselves. It helped with the bonding and, in fact, had proven invaluable in many situations over the last few weeks. The scientists were not told this. They would have probably tried to put restrictions on their comms if they did.

  Admiral Callaghan knew. He just grimaced pensively when they were all sitting in the crew lounge saying nothing, but obviously conferring across to each other via their implants. Others avoided them, not knowing what was going on, and not wanting to find out. It hadn’t escaped any of the other pilots notice that the small group had been spending a lot of time in the simulators. This was normally a group activity allowing others to watch the action through the observatory and discuss a pilot abilities or techniques, but now they were excluded from the section for the duration of the simulations. Gossip ran rife, but the strange quiet amongst the small group and their ability to all turn their heads as one, spooked many of their old comrades, who began to avoid them.

  He knew there was nothing that could be done about the new AI pilots, they would have to find their own way of dealing with the problem. He realised that as more of the Marauder pilots were converted, that the problem would be exacerbated. Zeke decided that there needed to be some form of monitoring to ensure the pilots and their AIs didn’t become detached from the everyday world around them and decided he would need to discuss it with Pod.

  ***

  The three AI pilots stood on the tarmac at the far eastern military base, one of General Pennington’s major successes. Since being taken over after the war with the Fortress, the base had been utilised for the design and manufacture of Marauder class fighters. Now, they were looking at a new ship, one that had been designed from scratch using the combination of Nubl and Jenari pattern technology. The Earth scientists abilities to enhance the results beyond the other races designs worked well because their understanding of the science had developed to the point they knew what they were building and how it worked.

  “It’s the new Reaver class fighter. It’s designed to utilise the unique skills of AI and human pilot partnerships. The plane can be flown by either, but operates best when you fly it together,” Pennington’s aide explained.

  The ships were jet black, matt so they wouldn’t reflect sunlight easily. They were twice the size of the Marauders, yet still a single pilot cockpit. The underwing contained various tubes twinned on both sides.

  “The outer two are the new shield nullifiers, their combined spread is designed to provide maximum coverage over multiple targets,” he pointed them out as he explained.

  “The centre tubes are new plasma pulse weapons that will deliver an intense energy bolt to take out a ship with a single hit. They’re the latest designs and we think they are Shadow-killers, so that’s what we call them.

  The inner tubes are the newest lasers. Selecting these provides the crew with the ability to change laser beams from broad, to narrow. At their smallest setting they will punch a small hole through a Shadowship from bow to stern, but because it’s possible to miss anything vital you can turn the dial to widen on contact. Essentially the narrow setting drills a hole, and the wider setting expands the beam. When tested, in all cases it got through the thickest armour-plating in seconds. The only drawback is that it slows right down when you broaden the beam, but it’s powerful, so it will still penetrate a Shadowship’s hull.”

  They had been walking around the ship as he spoke. Now they were at the stern where two individual rectangular furnace burners were positioned.

  “These are both main power engines as well as thrusters. They can be independently operated to provide you with fast manoeuvring speeds. This wouldn’t be possible without your unique abilities as they are extremely sensitive. The pilots that have tested them have found they were unable to fly them at anything more than ten percent thrust as their manual control wasn’t capable of operating efficiently enough to ensure direction. The AIs had to manage them exclusively and the pilots weren’t happy being strapped to a guided missile with no control over it at the high speeds it’s designed to opera
te at.”

  “What are those?” Flapjack asked pointing at some large vents above and below the thrusters.

  “Those are reverse thrust vents,” he smiled. “The AIs ran simulations and reckon you will be able to come to a dead stop with these, but they’re designed to help you change direction quickly in a battle scenario. Want to take a peek inside?” he offered knowing full well that was a given.

  They couldn’t all get inside, so he stood outside while the three eager pilots crammed themselves into the small spaces inside the ship.

  “You can see already that this is more than just a fighter, it’s designed for longer stints in space. In fact, we are due to go and see the boss in a minute who is going to explain it to you in greater detail. However, you can see a bunk, food processor and facilities as well as the usual flight cockpit. With your new abilities and the way you have adapted to working with your AIs, you should be able to operate from any part of the craft.”

  “You mean we get to live in these things?” Tango commented.

  “Ahh! As I say, let’s go see the General. He has orders for you three,” was his only response.

  They marched off and ten minutes later found themselves standing to attention in the General’s office while he was discussing something with another group of officers. As they left, his meeting with them concluded, he turned to them and smiled grimly.

  “Right, I understand from Dr Tabbs that the experimental implants are working beyond expectation. Your ability to maintain six way contact was a bonus we hadn’t really considered, but the nanites seemed to have completed their job satisfactorily and you have been declared fit for duty.” He turned away from them and pulled up a holographic display of the solar system which glowed over his desk.

  “You have seen the new ships?” he turned to them for affirmation.

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Good, then you will no doubt be wondering how we intend to use them and you,” he smiled.

  “You three are going to be the first advance patrol team and you will begin immediately preparing for a departure at 06:00hrs GMT tomorrow,” he indicated the holograph display.