Attack
Commodore Mandelbaum read the second message on her tablet, her eyebrows gradually drawing together. Finally she looked up at Moore and shook her head slowly. Without comment, she sent a copy of both to his tablet, then waved a hand, inviting him to read.
From: Andrew Jennings, Captain, IMM Getting Ahead.
CC: Dr. Charles Kemp, Ship’s Doctor
Dr. Madhur Narang, ICDC
To: Commodore Rani Mandelbaum, UENN Fleet Command
We understand that you may not have considered the Cooperator offer to be of a sufficiently high probability to be worth attempting. However, according to Dr. Kemp, we may have some additional leverage—a way to force the computer to accede to our offer.
Again, we implore you to hold off and let us try this alternative.
A. Jennings, Captain
Moore read the messages twice, certain the first time that he’d missed something fundamental. He looked up at Mandelbaum. “I don’t remember hearing anything in the recording of the interview with Dr. Narang about possible game theory scenarios. What haven’t I been told?”
Mandelbaum stared at him silently for several seconds, then stood up. “Ready Room.”
Moore followed her, and sat in the indicated chair.
“You were given a summary and extracts, Admiral Moore. The drivel about game theory tactics wasn’t considered germane.”
Moore felt the blood drain from his face, as he realized two things. One, that he was sufficiently out of the loop to be subject to edited versions of the facts; and, two, that until very recently he would have approved of the tactic. Getting your ass kicked, however, tended to put a different perspective on your belief in your infallibility.
Recriminations wouldn’t help, though, especially with someone who could freeze him out, or even throw him in the brig, at her discretion.
“May I have access to the complete recording, now, Commodore?”
“Fine, Admiral. However, we will not wait for you to bring yourself up to date. The attack will proceed as planned.” She poked at her tablet, and Moore’s device dinged as he received a file.
Mandelbaum stood. “Feel free to make use of the room, Admiral. You may return to station when ready.”
He turned to watch her as she floated out of the room, then shook his head and followed.
* * *
Commodore Mandelbaum settled herself in her spot to the right of Captain Harding and nodded. He turned to his staff. “Tactical, operation status?”
“Nominal, sir. Everything is in place.”
“Then execute the plan, Lieutenant.”
“Aye.”
The tactical officer began running through lists, activating operations and handling confirmations. As the orders percolated through ship’s systems, other bridge crew become more animated. Soon, the bridge was a bee’s nest of activity, all carefully coordinated, as station operators worked in concert.
Finally, the tactical officer turned in his seat to face the Captain. “All scripts are active, sir. First contact, two minutes.”
Moore used the two minutes to scan the transcript of the interview, since that would be both faster and less distracting to the bridge crew. When he was done, he looked up at Mandelbaum. “And you didn’t even once consider this option?”
Mandelbaum turned and stared coldly at him. “It was discussed, Admiral. And dismissed. Even Dr. Narang admitted that it was an outside chance.”
“As opposed to what you’re doing? Never mistake motion for action, Commodore. You’ve just confirmed to Pritchard’s computer that we are not capable of making the intelligent choice, instead defaulting to violence.”
Mandelbaum raised an eyebrow. “You seem to have changed, Admiral.”
Moore sighed. “I’ve never before been on the wrong side of a battle where I was so completely overmatched that I might as well not have shown up. The problem with military solutions is that they favor the strongest side, not the one with the moral right. Or the one with the best plan. And in this case, I don’t believe we are the strongest side. Not by a wide margin.”
“We’ll know soon enough, Admiral. The second wave of surveillance drones all made it through the active theater in one piece. Lieutenant, pull the three cam vids with the best details, and forward them to me.”
“Aye.”
“Ma’am, we have another incoming message from the Getting Ahead.”
“Put it up.”
From: Andrew Jennings, Captain, IMM Getting Ahead.
CC: Dr. Charles Kemp, Ship’s Doctor
Dr. Madhur Narang, ICDC
To: Commodore Rani Mandelbaum, UENN Fleet Command
Commodore, we are close enough to have gotten a good view of the “theater”, as I believe you military types like to call it. One of the numerous upgrades I had done to the Getting Ahead was a much larger set of optics, so I probably have as good a view as you, and possibly even a better one.
We took some images last time we were up here, after the military gave up those two cruisers. I note two things missing at this time—one, the former Mad Astra and, two, a group of chrome-colored balls. The latter are somewhat hard to see unless you know what you’re looking for. And given our experience with Pritchard, we do.
The point I’m trying to make is that you won’t get Pritchard, you won’t get his nanites, and it’s entirely possible that you won’t get his comms station. At least not the real one.
You are dealing with a computer system that may have literally millions of years of experience to draw on in terms of tactical decisions. And you are very probably about to have your asses handed to you.
A. Jennings, Captain
“Dammit!” muttered Mandelbaum. “Tactical! Where are those vids?”
“Coming up, ma’am. Transferring now.”
Moore noted that he did not receive a copy, or an offer of a copy. He had a feeling that they were entering FUBAR territory. In not very much longer, the commodore might be seeing the situation from his angle. That would be unfortunate, because it would mean they’d failed.
Mandelbaum stared at her tablet for several minutes, poking and swiping at it at seemingly random intervals. Finally she looked up. “It would appear that Jennings’s evaluation is correct. And how in hell did he get these images before us? Surveil?”
“Sorry, ma’am. Don’t know. However, the message did mention larger optics. Big ship like that, lots of money, he might have room for a four-fifty Maksutov-Cassegrain. We’d never be able to touch that.”
“The takeaway, though, is that the bird has flown,” Moore said. Mandelbaum favored him with a murderous glare, and Moore wondered for a moment if he should get himself checked for radiation burns.
“Ready Room,” Mandelbaum said, curtly. Without waiting, she launched herself from her chair.
* * *
Moore settled himself comfortably and pulled up his workspace to skim the full vids. Mandelbaum pulled a coffee and gestured to him to help himself.
When he was seated again, she put her coffee down and said, “We seem to consistently underestimate this character.”
“Because we keeping thinking we’re dealing with Ivan Pritchard, a down-on-his-luck computer programmer turned miner. He’s just along for the ride. It’s the computer that comes with the nanites that’s the true antagonist.”
Mandelbaum nodded. “We keep our A.I.s strictly limited, so that humans make all the real decisions. We tend to think that it’ll always be that way. Perhaps that’s unrealistic.” She pressed the intercom button. “Signals.”
“Ma’am?”
“What’s the delay on communications with the Getting Ahead?”
“Twenty seconds, round trip, ma’am.”
Mandelbaum’s eyebrows rose, and Moore found himself impressed as well. The civilian ship had closed a significant fraction of the distance since they’d first been detected. Their top speed at turnover must have been astronomical.
Mandelbaum looked at him. “It’s not ideal for voice. Let’s try text.”
Moore nodded, and Mandelbaum pulled her tablet into position. She shared her screen with him, then began typing.
Concur with your analysis, Captain. Subject is in the wind. No info on chrome balls. Can you give details?
Mandelbaum hit send, then cradled her coffee. The answer came back in two minutes.
Balls likely contained nanite payloads for specific targets. See news, Merc Venus Mars. Five balls when we were here, three likely accounted for. Last two? Earth, Moon?
“Shit!”
Moore jumped at the expletive, and Mandelbaum gave him an apologetic look. She leaned over her tablet and typed out a response.
Conversion of Earth, Moon imminent? Ungood. Do you have a suggestion to rescue the situation?
This time, over three minutes passed before a response came in.
Find Ivan, second comms station, nanite packages. Start now. Talk later.
Mandelbaum frowned. “Wait, they were all about the peaceful talking, now they want us to find and destroy them?”
“Find, Commodore. No mention of destroy.” Moore tapped the screen to emphasize the point.
“Fine.” Mandelbaum sent, Stand by, then hit the intercom. “Surveil. Assume two bogeys are headed from here to Earth and Luna. Calculate trajectories, send up to a third of our drones to look for them. Then send the balance out, all directions, looking for other artifacts.”
The tablet dinged, and Mandelbaum looked down.
Include nukes. Cruise missiles.
“I’m getting whiplash from trying to follow the logic of these people.” She typed a message. You’ll explain this?
The response came back immediately, allowing for light-speed delay. Less talk more search.
Mandelbaum gave Moore a rueful grin. “Well, that, at least, is clear.”
She hit the button. “Tactical, send cruise missiles on the trail of the drones. I want a wide enough spread to be able to hit anything we find, in any direction. Clear?”
“Aye.”
“Signals, send a message to base. Tell them to get every optical and radio telescope out and looking for anything at all. We need the bogeys spotted ASAP.”
“Aye.”
Mandelbaum sat back. “Now, we wait.”
Response
Ivan drifted through interplanetary space, literally sitting on the end of a fusion drive nacelle. He had stripped the nacelles from the cruisers, attached some fuel pods to each. A set of thrusters around the front, and he had a spaceship.
As long as you didn’t need to breathe, of course.
It was the minimalist’s vessel. Thrust, steering, and fuel. All you really needed to get from A to B. A similar setup provided the transportation for two balls of chrome—nanite assault troops, heading for their targets.
Ivan wished he could cry. Unless Kemp and the crew pulled a rabbit out of a hat, his family would be dead within a couple of weeks. And everyone else on Earth, and all other life, but he found that last bit somehow less important. Ralph had made a decision, based on the approaching attackers, UENN and SSE alike. It had been close, oh so close. But humanity just didn’t quite make the cut. Instead, the system would be cleared and turned into an automated outpost in the war against the Arts. Plan B. The two remaining nanite balls were being programmed to do to Earth and Luna what had already been done to Mercury, Venus, and Mars.
You’ll kill us all off? Just like that?
It is not intentional. Simply a side effect. Modifying the system for defense will render the planets uninhabitable.
That’s not reassuring.
Reassurance is not in my goal tree. I recognize your objections. However, my prime directives necessitate maximizing value for the Makers, not for your people.
But billions of sentient beings. Billions, for God’s sake.
The concept of gods is not unknown to the Makers. A large fraction of them had theistic beliefs at some point in their biological history. I have the historical details but do not pretend to understand the concepts or motivations.
The fate of humanity is unfortunate. An Uploaded species would be of far more value, but yours is not suitable at this time. Far too violent, short-sighted and fractious.
We might still get there.
Not before you die of heat death, or at the hands of your own A.I.s. Your technological progress has outstripped your maturation to a quite unusual extent.
So that was it. Ralph was adamant about its course of action. Argument wouldn’t sidetrack it. There was only the one small hope, that he could engineer a do-over. And that all his double-agent-y planning hadn’t missed something.
Ivan looked to the heavens, all around him, and found himself praying to a god he’d stopped believing in long ago to please, please help the crew of the Getting Ahead.
Found
“Ma’am, we have a bogey.”
Both Mandelbaum and Moore looked up at the intercom message from Captain Harding.
“Location and ID?” Mandelbaum asked.
“It looks a lot like the first communications station we found, but significantly bigger. Huge radio dish, and so on. Half an A.U. higher up out of the ecliptic.”
Moore pursed his lips for a moment. “It’s reasonable to assume that the one we were about to nuke is a decoy.”
Mandelbaum typed a message. Found second station. Recommendation?
The Getting Ahead was almost close enough for conversations, but Mandelbaum had said that she liked to think about what to say, so she would continue with texts as long as possible. Moore didn’t care either way. Results were what mattered.
Set up but don’t attack. We want a credible threat. Also, set up to defend against the SSE ships.
“What, they’re going for détente?” Mandelbaum’s eyes bugged out. “That’s ridiculous!” She tuned to Moore. “They can’t possibly think that’ll hold water?”
Moore shook his head. “We’d lose a standoff, unless we could prevent Pritchard from transmitting. And all he’d have to do is make some more nanites and sneak them in. I don’t think that’s what Jennings and crew have in mind.”
Have you found Pritchard?
Mandelbaum shook her head, not so much in answer to the text as in evident frustration.
Not yet.
Moore looked at her. “It may be a negotiating tactic.” At her raised eyebrow, he continued, “Dr. Narang mentioned game theory in the interview. They may be still trying for something along those lines, although since it’s the computer’s turn to move, I don’t see what we can do.”
Mandelbaum tossed her tablet onto the desk and sat back. “Unfortunately, the nanite balls and the station were easy to find, because the number of paths Pritchard could take was constrained by the requirements of orbital mechanics. He himself has no goal other than to stay hidden. He could be anywhere.”
* * *
Moore and Mandelbaum both jumped as the intercom crackled to life. “Ma’am, the Getting Ahead is pulling up to our position.”
“Thank you, Captain Harding. Please have Signals contact the Getting Ahead. Route the connection to the Ready Room.”
“Aye.”
In less than a minute, Captain Jennings’s voice played from the speaker. “Good day, Commodore.”
“Captain. Are Kemp and Narang available?”
“We’re all here, Commodore,” said Kemp.
“Good. Can you explain now what we’re attempting?”
“We’re trying for Plan C.” There was a pause. “The computer had to decide whether to Upload us or just convert the solar system into a remote post of sorts. That would be fatal to all life on Earth, of course. We are trying for a third alternative—a compromise that leaves Earth habitable.”
“Did Pritchard mention such an alternative?”
“He hinted at it,” said Narang. “He can’t just talk straight out about ways t
o finesse the computer—it’s listening all the time, of course. But the colloquial nature of human communication, and especially English, which is a truly chaotic language, makes it possible to say a lot without actually saying it. Just ask Shakespeare. Or any half-decent poet.”
“So he was trying to tell you…” Moore leaned forward, his interest piqued.
“That we might be able to steer a middle ground, between writing us off and assimilating us. I think he’s also been doing things in the least efficient way he can get away with, to give us more time. But he’s walking a tightrope as well. His knowledge is handy for dealing with the solar system, but if the computer decides he’s a liability, he could just be switched off.”
“This is essentially what you were talking about during the interview. It sounded like a long shot then, and it sounds like it now,” Mandelbaum said.
“But the only shot we have, at the moment. And maybe not as much of a stretch as we thought. We have additional information on Ivan’s end-game.”
"And that is?”
“It’s too complicated to go into in detail right now,” Kemp replied, “but the short answer is that we believe we can present a scenario whereby the computer will have no choice but to negotiate.”
“I will provisionally accept that for the moment.” Mandelbaum grabbed her tablet. “What’s the next step?”
“We have to find Ivan. We can’t do anything until we can talk to him.”
Moore shook his head in frustration. “He could be anywhere. There’s simply no reason to prefer one direction over another, and we don’t have the resources to search the entire surrounding sphere. He has, almost literally, the entire universe to lose himself in.”
There was a short silence, before Kemp replied. “Well, that’s the thing, Admiral. If Ivan is doing what we think, trying to give humanity an out, then he will not have tried too hard to lose himself. He’ll be available for communications.”
“Wait,” Mandelbaum frowned. “Are you saying it’s as easy as broadcasting a message?”
The Singularity Trap Page 30