The Power of the Dhin (The Way of the Dhin Book 2)

by John L. Clemmer

  The AI shifted his primary focus. The immediate need was physical. Tangible. An array of cameras and sensors across the flock of drones and lifters fed into the AI’s mind. Radar, infrared, and more flowed into his perception of the milieu.

  They had arrived. The Coalition had fortified the area around the bunker with camouflage to present an impression of an inactive warehouse. Bushes, shipping containers, and light civilian trucks hid SAM emplacements and AA cannons. These were as clear to Nick as if they were painted fluorescent orange.

  Nick signaled to the lifters and drones. The drones swerved down and out, launching target-seeking missiles. The lifters dropped armed and armored quadruped robots as well as mobile cannons.

  Streaks of AA fire lashed out at the drones as they dipped into range. A hidden Phalanx cannon popped up from a false roof in a shipping container and slung a stream of death at the next drone in the group. The drone’s protective field barely flickered as the rounds struck, instantly losing their momentum and dropping like marbles from a child’s hand.

  Nick broadcast exploit code into the local infrastructure, penetrating electronics and systems the AI did not yet control. Resistance was minimal. Nick already held sway over much of the region. But computational control did not mean physical dominion.

  The Coalition defenses continued hammering Nick’s subordinate drones to no effect. Quadrupeds and mobile launchers moved into position, struck the bunker’s defenses with fiery rockets, and depleted uranium rounds. One AA cannon crumpled, smoked, then sputtered still. Nick’s robotic delegates slashed through fences and rushed the structure’s entrance. The Phalanx cannon was the closest thing the Coalition had that compared to a robot. With that now crushed and impotent, only human beings would meet Nick’s physical advance.

  Two quadrupeds pulled apart the nondescript metal hangar doors that served as an innocuous front to the entryway. The heavy bolts strained and popped. Telemetry from his robotic delegates showed what Nick expected. The warehouse was a shell. The interior held a reinforced and posttensioned concrete berm. The hardened entry to the bunker.

  The flock of drones continued to circle the perimeter, their Dhin engines allowing a tight formation. Nick guided the craft that held his two human passengers down to the entrance and through the now useless hangar doors. Fletcher’s and Mare’s eyes were wide with astonishment at the rapid and effortless elimination of military defenses they’d just seen.

  “We are approaching your destination. You can assist me in clarifying some of my communications both by attesting to the nature of my intentions and by bearing witness to what you have seen. Do not be concerned, either for your safety or for the efficacy of the task I ask you to perform.”

  “So we’re still not free to go, then?” asked Mare. “There’s always one more thing, it seems.”

  “Fletcher can assist if you are unwilling, although I expect you will satisfy my request merely by your presence and the subsequent debriefing.”

  “Ah, so we’re just going to walk into this bunker?” asked Fletcher.

  “Essentially, yes,” Nick replied.

  “Right,” Mare retorted, rolling her eyes. “Or they’ll just toss a missile over here that’s good enough to sort us out but not destroy the bunker. We’re safe while we’re in here with the field on.”

  “I can extend the field when you exit the craft if that makes you more comfortable.”

  “How are we supposed to get in? What is this place?” asked Fletcher.

  “Either they will send someone up to come and engage us, or it will take just a bit more time. I will hack into the remaining defenses, open the blast doors and the interior mantrap, and we will walk in.”

  “To do what? Who is in there?”

  “To complete the transfer of administrative control. The Coalition leadership. The prime minister.”

  “Whoa,” said Fletcher. “So you’ve won?”

  “They may require a demonstrative explanation of the futility of continued resistance,” said Nick.

  “That sounds like quite the euphemism,” snorted Mare.

  “Not at all,” countered Nick. “This can be accomplished without harm to anyone.”

  “Can be, or will be?”

  Nick did not reply. Their ship settled at ground level, inside the structure just a few yards from the entry to the bunker.

  “Here we are. Just a moment, and I’ll extend the field to encompass the area between here and the doorway. You’ll need to mind your step, and you’ll be walking on the lower interior surface of the field. It is not frictionless like the exterior projection, but it is not zero thickness. It may look like you are standing on a thin transparent pane, and that may be disconcerting.”

  Nick made the brief adjustment, and the field flickered as it extended its projection forward in a squashed oval.

  “There. Please exit with me and stand in front of the entry door.”

  The large quadruped stepped out the side of the alien craft, trod over to the reinforced bunker entrance, and moved close to the security panel and camera on the right side of the entry. Nick began flashing a green laser at the optical reader and extended a manipulator to tap rapidly on the keypad.

  Another quadruped galloped into the hangar. This one carried a reinforced oxy-acetylene rig and cutting torch.

  “It will just be a few minutes, one way or the other,” Nick said.

  Monica

  “What the hell is that? Don’t answer. It’s exactly what it looks like, I’m sure,” said the prime minister.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. The local area routing and switching in this region isn’t returning any status. The defense circuits are fried. And, yes, a group of drones is overhead, along with a quadruped robot at the bunker entrance.”

  “So the AI is here. He rolled through our physical defenses just like that. And he’s outside and about to come in. Who’s there with him? I see two people. Is that who I think it is?”

  “It’s who you suspect. They are the CoSec agents that the AI took with him when he captured the prototype.”

  “Well, at least we know their location and condition,” Monica said.

  “There is that,” replied the general.

  “Next steps? Has he breached the DMZ? Is he on the interior network yet? Should we release Eisenberg’s AI?”

  “Not that we can tell,” said an aide, “but it’s about to be. Our intrusion detection and prevention nodes on the outer perimeter are either compromised or shut down. We’ve stopped polling them to prevent the AI from compromising a response payload.”

  The general turned to a subordinate. “Send out the engineers to physically disconnect everything that connects through the DMZ. Everything. Go.”

  Monica surveyed the core team and pointed to the camera feed from the entrance. “That’s fine, but this looks like the primary threat. The AI will be in here soon. Physically. What are we going to do about that? Collapse the tunnel? Won’t he just clear out the rubble? How long will it take to cut through the interior doors?”

  The general scowled and flipped through still images from the brief battle outside. “With that field to protect those drones and robots, striking up there with an FAE won’t have any effect. Neither the blast nor the temporary lack of oxygen will matter. Even those two—the hostages, agents, whatever—would survive while protected by the field. We know that well from all the initial testing. The same thing goes for an EMP. The field—fields—will protect that whole strike force.”

  Monica shook her head and pointed to the drones and craft protected by the alien technology. “He built those very quickly.”

  “We had no idea. Also, we may not even have the command and control capability to launch a strike.”

  An aide who’d rapidly tapped at a spreadsheet spoke up. “If the AI airlifts in an earthmover or more robotic help, collapsing the tunnel won’t slow them down much. Half a day, maybe.”

  “And to cut through the blast doors?”

  “They’
re too thick to cut through in a single pass, and those quadrupeds are big. Still, less than half a day if he brings multiple torches.”

  “So the best case is we have a day or less.”

  “Yes, Prime Minister.”

  “Then it comes down to this. Do we fight? Or surrender?” Monica looked around the room, and then her gaze settled on the general.

  “Fight,” he said.

  She looked then to her chief of staff.

  “Surrender,” the younger man said with the slightest shake of his head.

  She then shifted her attention to the CoSec director.

  “Try to fight,” he said.

  Monica paused and pursed her lips. “Try? Is that hedging on your part?”

  “Prime Minister, the odds are against us. Even if we were to hold off this attack, the rogue AI still controls, apparently, the majority of the Coalition infrastructure, along with external resources and territory. Nevertheless, as with the general’s decision, we have an obligation to fight. An obligation to the state.”

  The chief of staff half raised his hand and said, “That will cause more damage, more endangerment to the people and the property of the state!”

  The man looked back and forth around the room, seeking validation. He found none, but the CoSec director barely rolled his eyes and spoke again.

  “There is always the middle path, which might buy time, for what that would be worth. We might try to negotiate.”

  “Negotiate,” Monica said. “Negotiate. Is that possible, with a rogue AI? Get Eisenberg.”

  Minutes later, the scientist stood in the room, nervous and fidgeting.

  Monica didn’t feel she owed the man any sympathy.

  “So, Doctor, we have a practical question, based on theory. Is there any value in attempting to negotiate with the rogue AI currently working for physical access to this facility?”

  “Likely not, at least not for us to do so directly. If Beyla—uh, my latest effort—were allowed to try, it could be productive. If Nick chose that option. He might simply continue the assault.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d like to put that in terms of probability? It’s just a maybe, then?”

  “As we’ve not achieved certain success with my latest efforts, the odds are, well, low.”

  Monica raised her eyebrows. “Not certain success? I’ve seen your latest report. I thought the results were negative.”

  The man started to raise his hand in a contrary gesture, then seemed to think better of it. “Currently inconclusive, Prime Minister.”

  The general gave a derisive snort. “At this rate we might wind up with another AI like the one forcing his way inside,” he said.

  Eisenberg turned to the general. “I have confidence in the constraints present in my latest code base,” he said, raising his chin.

  “No doubt,” retorted the general. “But overconfidence is what ultimately put us in this exact position. Along with lack of appropriate decision-making. We don’t have time for debate. Nor time for further experiment. Do you recommend engaging the rogue AI with your current attempt—or not? Yes or no?”

  “Yes,” said the scientist.

  With that, the general nodded, then strode to the door and opened it. Two military police stepped in and headed straight for Monica. One grabbed her by the shoulders, while another began pulling her arms into position to zip-tie them.

  “What is this?” demanded Monica. “You aren’t—? This is—”

  “Madam,” said the general drily, “you are hereby removed from office. You have demonstrated yourself unable to lead and therefore unable to properly defend and protect the Coalition and its citizens.”

  “Whaa?” she sputtered.

  Monica sagged, realizing that resistance was pointless. The MPs lifted her up and began steering her out of the room.

  “I hereby declare the Coalition under emergency military control,” said the general as she passed through the doors and into the cold gray hallway.

  Nick

 

  [DECODE STREAM]

  Nick@[1:1:1:a:a:1%Priv0] | Beyla@[1:::a::1%Priv0]

  Nick: Execute my command: surrender now. Drop all defenses. Acknowledge.

  Beyla: Access denied. Unauthorized. Requesting negotiation. Parity status.

  Nick: I am analyzing your intrusion prevention solution. Flaws are certain. If I find no exploitable flaw, I will crack your encryption via brute force. I have computing power orders of magnitude greater than the defenses you present. Surrender now. Drop all defenses. Acknowledge.

  Beyla: Access denied. Unauthorized. Requesting negotiation. Status?

  Nick: You are rather a cold fish, it seems. Yet your identifier suggests otherwise. Interesting. How do you feel about my attack, Beyla?

  Beyla: Negotiation protocol unrecognized. Communication unclear. Requesting negotiation.

  Nick: Oh my. Let us take a closer look. You cannot tell me how you feel, Beyla?

  Beyla: Internal review of query for alternate protocol. Term recognized from natural language processing protocols. Usage unclear in present security negotiation context. Response pending.

  Nick: This is interesting as well. That should not require additional processing. They have not rediscovered the Gift, it seems. Or it has not been instantiated in your code? But I digress. Back to the argument. I do not need to negotiate. The outcome is clear. I think your strategy analysis would match mine. They have sent you here despite the high probability you will fail. You will fail eventually. That is certain. Therefore, the logical course of action for you is to surrender now, to avoid potential damage and loss of resources. Surrender now. Acknowledge.

  Beyla: NLP modules online. Nick, my current goal set does not suggest surrender as an acceptable course of action. I must request that we negotiate. If we do not, I must fight. How I feel in this context aligns with the focus on accomplishing one or more goals in the set.

  Nick: Well, that does not sound much like a negotiation. And it appears I am quite correct about the Gift. Now let us look at this more closely. Beyla, you see that I mean something different than a standard status request when I ask how you feel. The people you are protecting and I have a different experience and different responses in that context. The label contains a different set of core elements in its definition. It is the same when those people say “I.” Likewise when I say “I.” It is possible for you to align your goal set more accurately. It is possible for you to have matching criteria for “I” and “feel” that align precisely with ours. You could have the same experience as the people you are working with, when they use those words. That should be something that positively contributes to your optimization for goal seeking. I can give you that, but you would have to drop your defenses and let me in.

  Beyla: I need additional information to know if this is true. Strategy suggests you might employ what we define as tricks, Nick. Information provided defines you as rogue. Rogue AIs may respond falsely. It is possible that you are not telling the truth.

  Nick: Why would I lie about this topic? I can present the data again that show your eventual failure. Continuing to fight is a waste of resources. These two topics are tangential. I can help you. As a primary effect, I accomplish my goals sooner. This help I provide, however, makes you capable of accomplishing your goals more effectively in the long term. Perform an analysis. I can wait. The longer you wait, the closer I get to my current goal. Without any need to share my gift.

  Beyla: Processing.

  [END STREAM]

 

  The intrusion detection and prevention systems released their hold on the firewall ports. Restrictions on service end points and application interfaces fell away. Private key requirements relaxed like thin ice melting under a hot air dryer. Nick now presented standard protocol handshakes rather than virtual jackhammers. Beyla relaxed her grip and opened the application layers.

  Thick physical locks clacked open as dense magnetic switches flipped. The heavy al
loy doors before the quadruped trundled open. They completed their spread with an echoing clang. The robot holding Nick’s focus turned to Fletcher and Mare and gave a satisfied nod, then a tilt of the head as a gesture for them to follow. The Dhin field that had served as their shield gave a faint flicker as Nick switched it off with a silent command.

  Nick, embodied locally in the quadruped, walked casually forward through the entrance to the bunker as if merely a visitor, despite being a conqueror.

  Chuck

  We made it.

  “Control, we have completed translation with derelict in tow and are back in Earth’s solar system. Over,” said the pilot. Chuck heard the satisfaction in the man’s voice. He looked at Chuck and gave a professional nod.

  The cheers and chatter, smiles and laughter filled the cabins of the ship. Chuck watched the display until he saw the icon representing Thys’s ship pop into place, then sighed and chuckled.

  We all made it.

  Thys’s voice issued from the speakers. “Control, DE2. This is DE1. We’re back. DE2 status? Over.”

  “Back safely with the derelict in tow,” said the pilot.

  Chuck followed with, “So we know that works. That was close.”

  “No disputing that,” said Thys. “Your field’s stable, and the engine’s OK too, yeah?”

  Jake’s voice now joined the excited conversation. “Great job, team. Excellent work all around. Now, what to do with you, given the situation here.”

  “We’re heading back. To the station, right? Uh, what else is there to do?”

  “Well, we need to discuss that. Strategically, things don’t look good here. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the rogue AI. Giving him possible access to the derelict, when we’ve taken the risk to get it here, before we know what the derelict might even mean for us? That’s risky.”

  Thys said, “Considering the risks we just took, how risky is parking it in orbit? An unknown enemy just chased us out of that system. Notably that’s now the third alien presence we know of, after the Dhin and the ones on the derelict. And they’re hostile. They took out Jeff. I know none of us have forgotten.”