Sam paused the message. Her mind was racing so fast she could barely control her thoughts. Talk to them? Her parents? No way! That wasn’t happening anytime soon. What the hell was Samantha thinking?
If she had a heart, she knew it would be hammering a mile a minute. She didn’t have an adrenal system, but her mind could still go into overdrive when something made her anxious. Sam could recognize the symptoms and made an effort to relax. Samantha hadn’t gone to her parents, after all. She probably wouldn’t without talking to Sam first. And what was the worst that could happen, anyway?
The worst? Her imagination fed her images of the parents she remembered being her own finding out the military had made a digital copy of their daughter’s mind, in violation of every law and ethics rule on the subject. Worse, that the copy was still alive, was active in the military, living her own life as a digital person. Sam’s very existence violated a number of international laws. The UN Navy had bent a bunch of rules and fudged many records to allow her to join them. It helped that her existence also implicated various people high up in the US military of serious crimes. Nobody wanted that secret going public.
But telling her parents wasn’t really public. The worst thing they could do was what Sam figured they almost certainly would: reject her. What other choice would they have? They already had a daughter named Sam. Why would they recognize the digital copy of their daughter?
No, she felt sure they would turn her away. She wasn’t sure she could stand that if it happened. Better by far for them to go to their graves never knowing she existed at all. Sam missed her parents with an intensity that surprised her. She still recalled every moment they’d ever spent together. But as much as she would love seeing them again, she didn’t think she could survive the horror they would feel when they discovered what had been done to their daughter.
“Is OK?” someone asked from beside her.
“Hmm? Oh, hi, Gurgle. Yeah. I’m fine,” Sam replied.
“Is leaking from eye. Sure OK?” Gurgle asked, pointing at her face.
Damned simulation really was getting better, if it was representing her emotional state that well. She rubbed a palm against the treasonous eye, wiping away her tears. “Yeah, I’m OK. Just got an emotionally charged letter from Earth. Take a look.”
She’d always valued Gurgle’s observations. He didn’t understand human reactions completely, but Gurgle had the advantage of not being human when it came to cutting right to the heart of things. He was a digital personality sprung entirely from an algorithm, something weird created inside Valhalla Online itself. The place had spawned two true AIs. Sam had killed them both. She had a feeling that Gurgle might be a third, though - or something very close to one, anyway. She played the video for him, curious what he would say.
“Is your parents she talks about, too. Yes?” he asked.
“Well, sort of. I mean, I remember them that way. But they don’t know I exist,” Sam said.
“They is good people?” Gurgle asked.
“Yes. Some of the best people I knew,” Sam replied without hesitation. Her parents were where she’d learned about honor in the first place.
“Then is fine. Good people will like you fine. No worries,” Gurgle said, flashing her a smile.
“How can you be so sure?” Sam demanded. “They could very well decide they hate me.”
“No,” Gurgle said. He poked her in the stomach. “You is good person. Other good people see that, know that, trust you, like you. If parents are good people, they like you too. Maybe not like you same as other you. But like you for you. Like Gurgle does.”
Sam couldn’t help but smile at his candor. It was perhaps one of the things she valued most about her friend. She reached over and gave him a hug. “Showing you that video was definitely the right call. Thank you, Gurgle.”
She still wasn’t sure how best to proceed with the parent issue, but it wasn’t a problem she had to solve right this second, anyway. When the time was right, she’d find a way to deal with her fears.
Four
“You two look incredibly serious. What’s up?” Harald asked from behind her.
Sam whirled, hoping she’d been careful enough to wipe away all traces of the tears from her face. From the quizzical look in Harald’s eyes, she hadn’t quite managed it. Damn it! He was too good at reading people. That was supposed to be her specialty. But Harald knew her well. They’d been through too much over their time together in Valhalla for him to not notice if she was distressed.
“Just a letter from Earth,” Sam said.
“From…that other you?” Harald asked. He shook his head, frowning. “Nothing good can come of that, Sam. We’re dead, so far as the people we left behind are concerned. If we pop back into their lives now, we’re not doing them any service. It’s even worse in your case. They’ve never even grieved your death. To your family and friends, Samantha is still alive.”
“I know,” Sam said, staring down at her feet.
“You enter their lives, all it will do is stir up confusion and hurt. Is it worth it? Do you need to see these people that badly?” Harald asked. “It’s not like you ever actually knew them. Not this you, anyway.”
“But I have every memory of them that the other Sam does. To me, it feels real,” Sam protested.
Harald shook his head, more firmly this time. “It’s not real. That Sam is real flesh and bones. A person. Just like I was before I died and was uploaded into Valhalla. But us? You named us the Ghost Squadron, and you were right. You compared us to the Eirenhar, and I think you were correct in that, too. We’re not alive, Sam. We’re just ghosts of people who used to be.”
There was much about what he said that felt true. After all, they were simply echoes of what had been. There wasn’t a lot of studies done on exactly what the nature of a digital mind was, either. Were they able to truly make new decisions, or would they be locked into computer algorithm calculations of what the person they once were might have done? Was there even a difference either way? The complexity of wondering about it all made Sam’s head hurt. She could understand why Harald wanted to look at things from a more straightforward point of view.
“If you just ghosts, not real, what that make Gurgle?”
They both looked down at him. He was still in the form of a dragon that he’d worn when they were last in Valhalla, although this simulation had him as a person-sized one, instead of a massive beast Sam could ride into battle. Sam wasn’t sure how to respond. More, she wanted to know how Harald would respond. Harald had objected to Sam’s attachment to Gurgle at first, but those objections faded over time. He hadn’t said anything negative about her strange friend in quite some time.
Harald knelt in front of Gurgle, bringing his face down to about the same level as the dragon’s eyes. Sam listened intently to hear what he had to say.
“Gurgle, I am a simple man. Always have been. You’ve proven yourself a hundred times over to be brave and honorable. You’ve had my back, and Sam’s back, every time you’ve ever been needed,” Harald said. “I don’t know what you are. I don’t really care, either. You are my friend, and that’s enough for me.”
He stood back up. “We are all each others’ friends. That should be enough for all of us. We are all we need. Let the living tend to each other. They have already grieved for us.”
Then he walked away, leaving Sam and Gurgle to stare after him. Sam wondered at the last words he said. Who was grieving? No one mourned for Gurgle since he’d never known people from the outside world. He’d been ‘born’ inside Valhalla. Her living body was still out there, so no one was grieving for her. They all still had their version of Samantha. None of her friends and family even knew the digital version of her existed. Which meant he was speaking about himself.
“Who grieved for you, Harald?” Sam whispered. Who was he missing so badly that he would rather avoid the living altogether than risk contact? She felt sad for her friend. Sam knew what it was like to want to see someone again, but
dread the idea at the same time.
An alarm sounded. The virtual reality around her shimmered, then solidified. That only happened if the ship was transferring computer cycles to some other purpose. Sam tapped a button on a wall that opened up a communication channel from the simulation to the rest of the ship.
“Get me the CAG,” she said.
Moments later Keladry responded. “Get your people scrambled. We’ve picked up an energy surge. About to make a jump there to investigate.”
“Understood. Any idea what we’re up against? Was it an incoming drive signature?” Sam asked. If a bunch of enemy ships had just jumped into Earth’s system, they could be in for a hell of a fight.
“Negative. The energy readings were too small and steady to be a jump exit. Computer analysis matches the energy readings the Hermes took of the ring while it was still active,” Kel said. “Get everyone to their fighters, fast!”
“Understood,” Sam said. She ended the transmission.
Shit, that was bad. A jump signature would be dangerous enough. But the only jump-capable ships the enemy had shown were relatively small vessels. The larger the ship, the more exotic matter was required to make a jump drive. It got exponentially worse as the ship grew larger. The Intrepid was about the size of an aircraft carrier, and it had taken years of work to create enough of the stuff to make the drive. Hooking an Alcubierre drive onto anything more substantial just wasn’t practical.
But the alien race had figured out a way around all that. After arriving in the Sol system with a single jump-capable ship, they’d constructed a ring that could generate a wormhole portal between star systems. Once it was finished, they started hauling in some truly monstrous ships. Blind luck and superb timing, plus the sacrifice of the Hermes, had been the only things that saved Earth that day.
That one jump ship had escaped, hiding in the outer reaches of the solar system. If it had managed to create a new ring, then they were all in a lot of trouble. A ring activation might mean that the ship was just leaving, running for home. But Sam didn’t think so. It could have jumped for its home system whenever it wanted to. No, if it had built a new ring it was for one purpose: to bring in an assault fleet capable of finishing the job the first one had failed to accomplish.
Sam tapped the wall intercom again, this time broadcasting so her voice would be heard throughout the entire simulation area. Every digital pilot would hear her.
“All pilots report to fighters and prepare for immediate jump and launch on arrival. This is not a drill. We have probable enemy action. Move it, people!”
They all scrambled up, each one popping out of view as they exited the sim to return to their vessels. Sam watched them go. So many newbies in this group. So few experienced pilots. They had more green meat than veterans in the squadron. They’d been training, of course, but that was no replacement for real action. If it came down to fighting today, some of those pilots were going to die.
Sam blinked back to her Wasp and started running her pre-flight checks. A ring activation changed everything. They’d been hunting for the enemy to prevent them from doing precisely this. If they’d found the ship before it could build a new ring, stopping it would have been relatively easy. But they were too late. This particular needle had been too well hidden in the hay, and now they were going to be in for the fight of their lives.
Five
One look at the scans as they cleared was enough to tell Thomas they weren’t going to win this fight. As the scan resolved, he could see what looked like the same jump-capable ship they’d fought before, which he expected. And an active ring, which also wasn't a shock. But the aliens had already managed to bring four other vessels of similar size and two of their dreadnoughts through. Buzzing around them was a veritable horde of small fighter craft.
He was a good ship’s captain. His crew was excellent, the fighter pilots on board the very best they could find. None of it would matter, not in the face of such overwhelming odds. They might be able to do a little damage before the enemy blasted them into atoms, but even that would take a miracle.
“Abort the rest of the fighter launch,” he said. “Recall all fighters. We’re getting out of here.”
The Intrepid was the only jump-capable ship humanity had, and they were incredibly difficult to build. There weren’t going to be many new ones anytime soon. Humankind had other ships, but none that could reach this far from Earth in time to do any good. If he lost the Intrepid today, that was it. Earth might win a few battles in the future, but the war would already be decided.
“Railguns, open fire as you bear,” Thom ordered. “Target their smaller ships. Let’s see if we can take one out.”
The dreadnoughts wouldn’t have jump drives. Otherwise, the aliens would have sent them in directly via jump rather than waiting to build another ring. He wasn’t as sure of the smaller ships. At least one of them was jump-capable. That’s how they’d gotten into this solar system in the first place. Was it just the one, or were all four support ships able to jump? If they could all chase the Intrepid, then even running for it might not be enough to save them.
Thom ground his teeth together in frustration. The fighter wings from Ghost Squadron were already out there, and they were growing dangerously close to entering the engagement box with the alien fighters. Once they got embroiled in a skirmish, it would be damned hard to recover them.
“What’s going on with our fighters?” Thomas asked.
“They’re trying to come about, but they’ve got a lot of velocity to overcome, sir.”
“Understood. Helm, lay in a course that will bring us in closer, so our pilots don’t have as far to go,” Thomas said.
“That will bring us dangerously close to the enemy guns, sir.”
That was the problem, wasn’t it? The longer they waited to jump out, and the closer they came to the enemy fleet, the more likely they were to come under active fire. At this range, the enemy beam weapons weren’t accurate enough to target them well, but that would change as they drew closer. Should he leave those pilots out there? Abandon them to their fate? If it meant saving the ship and giving humanity a fighting chance, maybe sacrificing a few pilots was worth it.
No, not if he could do anything else. They weren’t that desperate yet. Those pilots might call themselves ‘ghosts,’ but as far as Thomas was concerned, they were still people. He wasn’t going to leave anyone behind.
“Take us in. Evasive rolls to throw off their targeting. Give me a spread of missile fire to keep them busy,” Thomas said.
“Aye, sir.”
The Intrepid’s deck vibrated as the engines pushed them forward. It was going to be close. That first wing was turning around, but the enemy fighters were almost in range. They’d chase his Wasps all the way back to the Intrepid. He was going to lose people, regardless, but maybe they could do something to mess with the enemy fighter advance.
“New targets. Watch out for our guys, but I want all our guns aimed at the incoming fighters. Let’s see if we can get them to scatter and stall their approach a little. Our people need breathing room. Let’s get them some,” Thomas said. “Anti-missile guns, too.”
All around his CIC, the crew was working furiously at their controls. Shooting would be tricky if they were to avoid blowing up their own ships. But the Intrepid could spit out a hail of gun and missile fire that ought to act a lot like a cloud of flak. No single shot was enough to stop such a vast group of fighters, but collectively all the crap they could send might work.
“Missile launches detected from the enemy dreadnoughts, sir.”
“Time to impact?” Thomas asked.
“Seven minutes, fourteen seconds. Should I divert anti-missile fire back at them, or keep it on the enemy fighters?”
Was that enough time? He could aim the anti-missile guns at the missiles and nail a good chunk of them. But if they could jump out before the weapons arrived there would be no need to shoot them down. Thomas eyed the projection for his fighters' recall.
It was going to be damned close.
“Negative. Maintain fire on the enemy fighters. And patch me through to the flight leaders out there,” Thomas said.
“You’re on, sir.”
“Sam, Harald, you hearing me?” Thomas asked.
“Yes, sir,” Sam said.
“Here. Damn, this is a target-rich environment out here!” Harald said.
Thomas smiled in spite of the severity of the situation. Leave it to a Marine to call this debacle ‘target-rich.’ “Most folks would say they were outnumbered, Marine.”
“We’re always outnumbered, sir. Part of the job,” Harald said.
“I need you both to get your people back here ASAP. We’re maneuvering for a faster pickup, but that’s going to put us in range of the enemy guns sooner than I’d like. Soon as your last fighter lands, we’re jumping out of here,” Thomas said.
“I’m not sure we’re going to make it in time,” Harald said. “My flight can perform a holding action, keep them at bay a little longer while the rest of you get clear.”
His people were the furthest out, having been launched first. Thomas tapped his console a few times and brought up the latest projections. Harald was right. There was no way they could make it, not on their present acceleration curves, anyway.
“I’m not leaving crew behind out there, Harald,” Thomas said.
“We’re not crew. We’re Ghosts. We’re doing what we’re supposed to be, out here. It’s our job, sir,” Harald said.
“You damned well are crew. Don’t back-talk me. Listen,” Thomas said. He had the computer run a quick simulation. The acceleration curves were based on human pilots, not digital ones. Maybe they could push things a little harder. That would mean landing at a lot more velocity than was safe. But maybe there was a way.
Ghost Squadron Page 2