Superdreadnought 1: A Military AI Space Opera

by CH Gideon

  Nothing.

  She left the Melowi behind and strolled down the busy streets of Dal’las Tri to see what she could see. Much of it was the same as what she’d passed a hundred times: stores, markets, bars, restaurants, gaming parlors, and shops of ill-repute. None of those were what she was looking for.

  At last, when she thought she’d have to pack it in and message Jiya to tell her she’d lost Ka’nak, she came across a quiet security station nestled in the middle of all the chaos of Dal’las Tri. She smiled when she realized there was an open-air café across the street from it.

  She secured a table, ordered a drink and a meal, and cast furtive glances at the station. Glass-fronted doors allowed her to see inside. A half-dozen security officers sat around doing a whole lot of nothing.

  There were cups of coffee before the officers, and each looked as if they were eating or had just finished. Their relaxed attitude told Geroux that the local mercenary vendors took care of the bulk of security work on the planet, or there were simply very few laws that meant anything, and the police had almost nothing to do but while away their time eating and becoming caffeinated.

  Either way, it worked out perfectly for Geroux. She spied several computer terminals inside the station. With a determined look on her face, she pulled out her tiny rig, a full-powered hacking computer about the size of her palm, and went to work.

  If they couldn’t find anything about the Kurtherians out on the street, she was sure she could infiltrate the planet’s security systems and learn something. If the Kurtherians were as shifty and slick as Reynolds had made them out to be, they’d likely have a presence in Dal’las Tri’s upper echelons.

  Given enough time, Geroux would hunt them all down.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Phraim-‘Eh Cult Monastery, Lora

  Jora’nal raised his hands before the crowd as he strode across the stage.

  “Hear me, brothers and sisters,” he called, his voice reverberating through the small theater. His robes swished around his ankles. “Long have we stood in the shadows of the new gods, caught beneath their heels and the machine that grinds us down.”

  The crowd gathered before him, close to fifty people, muttered their agreement. They raised their hands in the air to imitate his motions, closing their fists as they chanted.

  Jora’nal stared out at the assemblage and grinned. They swayed to his every word, just as the Voice of Phraim-‘Eh had said they would.

  “Yes, my brothers and sisters, the time has come for us to step out of the shadows and proclaim our allegiance to the old gods, to the one and everlasting Phraim-‘Eh.”

  A muttered gasp tore through the crowd at the mention of the ancient god, a name spoken only in private or in the deepest of whispers. To hear it said so boldly set the crowd on edge.

  “His messenger came to me,” Jora’nal told them. “The Voice of Phraim-‘Eh, whose name I say aloud without fear. He came to me and said I am the chosen of Phraim-‘Eh, he who must spread the word and warn the faithful of the war to come.”

  Jora’nal crept to the edge of the stage and stared down at the followers gathered before him. He pointed a finger at one of the faithful and smiled, meeting the woman’s wide eyes.

  “I’ve no doubt you’ve heard such blasphemies uttered before, seen twisted lips spew falsehoods and claim relevance,” he said, and the crowd nodded their heads in time, “but I am no false messenger.” He clenched his fist and raised his hand to the sky.

  The woman shrieked as she was yanked into the air at the movement of Jora’nal’s hand. Her feet kicked frantically beneath her, her sandals nearly a meter off the ground.

  “Behold!” Jora’nal shouted, motioning the crowd to witness the miracle before them. “I am what Phraim-‘Eh has made me. I am the bearer of his message.”

  He eased the woman back to the ground and she crumpled to the floor, kissing its stained tiles. The rest of the gathering followed suit, dropping behind her and chanting Phraim-‘Eh’s name over and over like a growing storm.

  Jora’nal waited for a moment, letting the swell build, then he levitated above the stage, silencing the converts at his feet. “Have faith in Phraim-‘Eh and all of us shall ascend, my brothers and sisters. Have faith!”

  The crowd roared and Jora’nal stared out over them, seeing the Voice of Phraim-‘Eh at the back of the room. The messenger nodded his approval and vanished into the shadows.

  Jora’nal lowered himself to the stage and waved the crowd to him. “Come. Join me and become one with Phraim-‘Eh.”

  After wandering around Dal’las Tri for hours with no success, Jiya found a dark corner and triggered her comm to reach out to the crew. Static was her only answer.

  She sighed as she glanced around, taking in the lights and glowing signs, realizing the electrical barrage was likely interfering with the communicators. She’d need to find a place where she wasn’t being bombarded, but she wasn’t sure if that would work given that the others were likely under the same interference.

  Since she wasn’t far from the casino where she’d left Maddox, she circled back and returned there, pushing through the growing crowd. As night settled, more and more people appeared and filled the streets and casinos. It was becoming hard to maneuver without running into people.

  She finally managed to make her way inside to the table where Maddox had been earlier, and, to her surprise, he was still there. The stacks of chips in front of him had grown exponentially, and people pressed in around him as he played, cheering and hooting for him. Jiya had to fight her way to his side.

  “Hey. I’ve been looking for—” she started when she was alongside him, but the hazy, indistinct look in his eyes brought her to a halt.

  A grin that stretched his cheeks sat on his face, and he laughed and chatted with the dealer as cards flew. Jiya nudged his shoulder, but he kept playing, ignoring her.

  She glanced around the table, and it struck her. While she couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, it looked as if these were the same people who’d been there when Maddox had first started playing.

  “Hey, Reynolds needs us,” she whispered into Maddox’s ear, but the general blew her off again, throwing his cards down and shouting that he’d won.

  The crowd around the table erupted, and Jiya eased back to get a better look.

  Just like Maddox, there was a frenzied expression on all the players’ faces. It didn’t look natural.

  Despite the cool air of the casino, all of the players were sweating, a sheen of moisture reflecting the bright lights. Their hands shook as they handled the cards and chips, and they smiled so widely that Jiya feared they might dislocate their jaws. They looked manic. There weren’t even any drinks on the table to explain it.

  Something was wrong.

  She backed farther away, easing into the crowd, her eyes scanning the nearby tables. They were the same.

  The players looked crazed, throwing themselves into the games with reckless abandon. Some were winning little bits here and there, but most were losing. Still, they didn’t seem to mind. They threw down chip after chip even as the dealer scooped them away, and the crowd kept cheering.

  Caught up in the swirl of the crowd, Jiya angled back toward Maddox’s table only to bump into a man in a crisp black suit.

  “Oh, my apologies,” she told him.

  He nodded and smiled. “No worries, ma’am,” he replied, slipping into the throng with practiced ease, but his eyes lingered on Maddox’s table. She watched the well-dressed man carefully.

  Jiya realized right away he was casino security or management, so she eased after him and closed on him to observe. She watched as he spoke quietly into what she assumed was a comm built into the cuff of his sleeve and she inched closer, focusing on his words to the exclusion of everything else.

  “Table 6. Tweak the algorithm,” he whispered. “Got a guy cleaning house.”

  Not more than a second later, the low whine she’d noticed and ignored earlier pulsed through he
r head again, bringing with it a slight headache. She squinted as the hum wavered, then seemed to fade away much as it had when she’d first entered the casino.

  There was a roar from Maddox’s table right then. Jiya left the suited man behind and circled back around as casually as she could. She spotted Maddox through the crowd. The dealer scooped a stack of chips from in front of him and pulled it across the table.

  Maddox didn’t seem to care. He shoved more chips onto the playing area and grinned like a madman. So did all the people around him. Although they barely had any chips left, they kept betting as if their life depended on it.

  Jiya had a feeling it just might.

  She watched for a short time longer. Maddox lost again and again and again, but his posture never changed, and he never stopped betting. He was all in…and then some.

  Having known the man nearly her entire life, she knew that wasn’t normal.

  The time alone in her father’s prison might well have changed him, but she doubted it. This was no gamer’s high.

  She took one last glance in the security man’s direction and saw him watching Maddox. He grinned and spoke into his sleeve again before wandering off, apparently satisfied.

  That cinched it for Jiya.

  She had an idea what the casino was doing and needed to do something to stop it.

  Certain Maddox would stay put, she made her way outside and went in search of a quiet out-of-the-way place where her comm would work so she could reach out to the rest of the crew and Reynolds.

  A short distance from the casino, Jiya spotted Geroux hunkered down at an outdoor café. Jiya recognized the intense look on her face, realizing she was surreptitiously working on her computer. She eased into the café and grabbed a seat at her table.

  “Hey,” she said, offering the girl a broad smile in case anyone was watching. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  Geroux snarled. “Trying to hack the planet’s security,” she replied barely loudly enough for Jiya to hear her, “but it’s like crazy complicated.” She shook her head, her frustration obvious. “It shouldn’t be this hard. I’ve been at it for a while.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The tech they use here is comparable to Lariest’s in design,” Geroux told her. “The coding looks basic, not even as complex as the systems at your father’s compound but for some reason, I can’t seem to get past the initial line of defense. It’s like there’s a second layer of a different kind that stops me cold. It’s weird.”

  Jiya nodded. “It’s not the only weird thing about this place,” she told her friend. “The Gold Mine Casino is operating some kind of scam.”

  Geroux looked up from her computer, eyes narrowing. “A scam?”

  “Yeah. They’re doing something to make the players keep gambling even when they lose.”

  Geroux chuckled. “That’s just what gamblers do, Jiya. It’s normal.”

  “No,” Jiya argued, “it’s more than that. Maddox is in there losing a bunch of Reynolds’ money. He hasn’t left his seat once, hasn’t ordered a drink, and hasn’t tried a different game,” she explained. “He was winning big, then I heard one of the casino men mention tweaking the algorithm and all of a sudden, Maddox was losing. Losing big, and he didn’t care.”

  “Well, it isn’t his money,” Geroux suggested. “Maybe he’s okay with facing down Reynolds for its loss.”

  Jiya shook her head. “When have you known Maddox not to be disciplined?”

  “Uh, true, but he has been locked up for a long time,” Geroux replied. “He could be making up for lost time.”

  “I thought that too, but no. We need to get him out of there, but comm is down.”

  Geroux tried hers and grunted. “Mine too. It’s all this interference,” she said, gesturing to the lights and signs.

  “I’m starting to think it’s more than that,” Jiya told her. “Let’s head back to the tarmac and see if we can reach Reynolds.”

  Geroux nodded and rose to her feet. It was only then that Jay realized the Melowi wasn’t with her.

  “Hey, what happened to Ka’nak?”

  Geroux sighed. “Lost him at the fight pits hours ago.”

  “Of course you did,” Jiya replied, grunting. “We should have kept him on a leash.”

  Geroux giggled, thinking of the huge fighter wearing a leather collar and being led around, and the pair made their way back to the landing area.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Are you sure about this?” Reynolds asked once the two crew members returned to the superdreadnought.

  “Whatever they’re doing in there, it’s not natural,” Jiya replied.

  “I tried to hack Dal’las Tri’s systems while I was there, but they kept kicking me out like I was some baby hacker in diapers,” Geroux added. “There’s no way that’s normal for a place like this.”

  “I’ve opened a running tab for Maddox to keep him in place, although he’s going to have to work his ass off to repay this if we don’t collect his losses from the casino,” Reynolds said.

  “It’s not his fault,” Jiya argued. “They’ve hacked his brain or something. We need to get him out of there.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it, but right now, we need to figure out how to disengage him from the game.” Reynolds glanced at the XO’s station. “XO, have you been able to penetrate Dal’las Tri’s security?”

  “The kid’s right,” XO answered. “There’s a deeper system buried beneath the exterior level, and it’s complicated as shit. There’s no reason for a tourist-trap planet like this to have security of this caliber. It’s way out of proportion to the level of tech on the planet.”

  “Kurtherians?” Reynolds asked.

  “Maybe,” XO told him, “but I can’t be sure. Whatever it is, I’m slowly beginning to peel it apart. There are some pretty complex layers involved.”

  “There!” Tactical called, and the viewscreen flashed to life.

  A number of waveforms appeared on the screen, and XO began separating them and deleting them from the image until only one signal remained.

  Geroux gasped. “That’s a neurological wave beam.”

  “Exactly,” XO replied. “It’s emanating from the Gold Mine Casino and seems to encompass the entire gaming area, as well as some of the nearby buildings. I’m guessing they are owned by the same people.”

  “Does it cover the fighting pits?” Geroux asked.

  “It looks like it does,” XO replied.

  “That likely explains Ka’nak’s attitude then,” Geroux said, clearly glad the warrior had more of an excuse than simply wanting to brawl.

  “Is that what’s making Maddox and the others gamble everything away?” Jiya asked.

  “Most likely,” Comm told her. “This type of signal works like a neural inhibitor, suppressing certain aspects of a person’s personality.”

  “In this case, it’s likely working on their restraint or concern for consequences, judging by what you’ve told us,” XO continued. “Although you may be right that his time in solitude made him more susceptible, the beam is powerful and would catch nearly anyone in its trap.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t fall under its spell,” Reynolds told Jiya.

  “I never played any of the games,” she answered with a shrug. “Plus, when I was young, my uncle was a drunk and a gambler. I watched him gamble away everything he had in a drunken fugue.” She sighed. “My father ultimately exiled him to who knows where, but I got to see the fallout day in and day out until he disappeared. I swore I’d never be like him.”

  “I remember him,” Geroux said, leaning in and giving Jiya a hug. “He was kind of an ass.”

  “That probably helped,” XO said. “This beam is tightly focused, it appears, and it’s definitely designed to attack a person’s inhibitions. The slightest hint of an addictive personality and it sets it off.”

  “Which explains Maddox,” Reynolds said. “You can’t rise to the top of the military without
collecting a number of coping mechanisms, which usually involve alcohol. Ka’nak’s addictions are different, but this device is likely working on him just the same.”

  “So, can we shut this thing off?” Jiya asked.

  “Not from here, I’m afraid,” XO answered. “While we can detect the waveform with narrowed sensors, it’s not actually a part of the planet’s system. This is an independent device, so it has to be shut down from the source.”

  “The casino.” Jiya groaned. “Great. Guess that means we’re going back to the planet. It seems like the only thing we run is rescue missions.”

  “Looks that way,” Reynolds agreed. “Go see Takal. He’s been working nonstop on those suits of armor since we dug them out of storage. I’m sure there’s something there you can use while we’re down on the planet.”

  Jiya nodded, remembering the cloaking device Takal had shown her the last time she’d visited his lab. If that was ready, she could definitely use it.

  “Will do,” she replied, offering a salute to Reynolds. She and Geroux left the bridge and headed to the lab.

  With Maddox stuck in gambling mode and Ka’nak busy busting heads for money, it was up to them to make things right.

  Jiya was okay with that.

  Rasaka stood on the bridge of the Exeter, the Thra’kali Department of Exploration’s recovery craft. He stared at the viewscreen which showed the wreckage of a Thra’kali scout ship he’d come to collect.

  There’d been a report of one of their ships going missing on a scouting mission, and they’d only just managed to track its beacon back to the source.

  “No wonder,” Rasaka muttered, seeing the absolute ruin that was the scout ship. “I’m surprised we received a signal at all.”