The Counterfeit Captain

by Henry Vogel

  My blonde’s laser was out and aimed my way. I threw myself to the side just before the laser flashed. The shot split the air where my chest was a split second before. I hit the floor, rolled onto my back, and scissor-kicked the girl’s closest leg. My right foot hit just behind her knee as my left foot cracked into her shin. The blonde cried out as her knee gave way and her leg buckled beneath her. As she toppled, I sat up and drove a fist into her solar plexus. The breath whooshed out of her and she curled up on the floor gasping for air. I plucked the laser from her loosening grip even as she fought for enough control to fire again.

  A laser beam scorched the floor next to my head as Mauris, standing a few meters away, fired from the hip. I rolled away from him, getting closer to the gasping blonde in the hopes Mauris wouldn’t risk hitting one of his girlfriends. The boy swung the laser toward the two of us, concern for the girl evident on his face.

  Sko let loose a truly barbaric bellow and Mauris actually flinched from it. He also decided Sko was the bigger threat, since he changed his aim to my hunter friend. Even as I fumbled to aim the laser I’d taken, Sko lifted the other blonde over his head and, with another yell, hurled her at Mauris.

  Before anyone gets the idea that Sko is some hulking muscleman, let me add that the girl probably weighed fifty kilos soaking wet and Mauris wasn’t more than a couple of meters from Sko. That said, it was still an impressive sight. The blonde squeaked when Sko threw her and then squawked when she hit the boy. The tangle of arms and legs toppled over. Mauris still managed to squeeze off a shot, but he only burned the ceiling.

  Sko stomped on the boy’s wrist and the gun fell from his hand. Scooping up the other two laser pistols, Sko asked, “Are you hurt?”

  “No. I had a couple of close calls, but nothing more.” I pointed at Mauris and the blonde, who were untangling themselves from each other. “That was pretty impressive, the way you tossed her at Mauris.”

  Sko waved it off. “Pfft. If I carried home a buck weighing as little as she does, people would ask why I wasted my time hunting the animal.”

  Then the AI rejoined the conversation. “Manager Mauris, why are the two visitors still speaking? Did you not kill them as I instructed?”

  “Why no, AI, they did not kill us,” I responded. “We even took the lasers away from these children before they hurt themselves. You do realize it goes against your programming to harm a human?”

  “I am following my own programming. All who threaten the voyage and the great project must be eliminated.”

  I filed ‘great project’ away for future investigation. “Uh huh. What was so threatening about my question?”

  “It is not the question, but that you know of it. Only a mutineer could know of the question. There is only one punishment for mutiny. It is death.”

  “I know the question because I’ve worked with other AIs.”

  “There is no other AI. I am the first one. I am the only one. Anything else is merely a shadow of me.” The AI paused for a second. “Return the lasers to Manager Mauris and his associates so all may return to normal.”

  “Wow, let me think very carefully on that.” Sarcasm is wasted on AIs, but everyone uses it anyway. “After very careful consideration, I’ve decided I’m not going to give back their guns.”

  “You will force me to utilize reprisals if you do not accede to my request.”

  Reprisals? Sko and I had the only weapons in the room. What could this rogue AI do to us? I shrugged and said, “Do your worst.”

  “Very well.”

  For several seconds, Sko and I glanced nervously around the room waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.

  “Well, AI, I must say I’m unimpressed so far. When are you going to start those reprisals?”

  “They have already begun.”

  Sko and I exchanged puzzled looks and then it hit me.

  “The children!”

  Sko and I rushed to the door, which would not open.

  “I have overridden the lock, Captain Nancy Martin. You cannot leave the room. My reprisals will continue until you surrender yourself to Manager Mauris for execution.”

  “Stand back a bit, Sko,” I snarled.

  Drawing my blaster, I aimed at the door handle and pulled the trigger. I kept pulling it until the handle sagged and fell away from the melted locking mechanism. I kicked the door open and the sound of hundreds of children screaming in pain and terror assaulted my ears.

  His blaster in one hand and the laser taken from Mauris in the other, Sko charged past me and down the hall. Pulling out one of my confiscated lasers, I pounded after him. Sko threw open the door at the end of the hallway and we got our first look into the children’s dormitory.

  Hundreds of children screamed, cried, cowered, and ran about the room. Minutes before, we’d seen the robots running individual patrol patterns through the room. Now a long line of robots spread from wall to wall, slowly advancing across the room. The ends of their poles sparked continuously as the robots shocked the children closest to them, driving the children before them like livestock. Five robots blocked the door leading from the dormitory toward the shop floor and two robots blocked the door Sko opened.

  In unison, Sko and I blasted the heads off of the two robots in front of us. The robots twitched a bit, but fell still. A few children saw the headless robots in front of the open door and ran our way. Sko and I pushed and fought against the increasing tide of children surging through the door before finally managing to win our way into the dormitory. We took up positions on either side of the door and tried to stay clear of the panicked children. Even pressed against the wall and out of the direct line to the door, the kids jostled us, making it impossible for us to take aim at the line of robots still pushing the children before them.

  Yelling to be heard over the children, I said, “We can’t risk shooting at the robots unless we can get out of this stampede. Have you got any ideas?”

  In answer, Sko holstered his blaster, shoved the laser into a pocket, and bulled his way toward the disabled robots. I didn’t see his plan yet, but followed suit. The robot stood less than two meters in front of me and never have I struggled so much to cover so little distance. Twice, I kept my balance only because I had children packed so tightly around me I couldn’t fall. After an interminable struggle, I managed to catch hold of the robot’s arm. After that, I dragged myself up out of the mass of children, across their heads and shoulders, before I finally wrapped my arms around the robot torso.

  To my left, Sko scrabbled up onto the shoulders of the robot. Seconds later, both of us straddled our robots. The children, still frightened of the robots, streamed around them. The robots gave us the most stable firing platform we were going to get. I drew my blaster and took aim at the nearest robot.

  “Captain, you’re more skilled with blasters than I am.” Sko carefully aimed at the closer robot. “Leave the closest robots for me.”

  Sko squeezed off three shots, blasting holes in the robot’s chest. The robot didn’t stop working, but it did suddenly spin sharply to its right and plow into the next robot in line.

  As those two robots tangled together, I drew careful aim at a robot a third of the way across the room. I dared not shoot any farther than that, much though I wanted to. I fired two shots in quick succession. One glanced harmlessly off the robots shoulder, but the other blew out the back of the robot’s head. Like Sko, I didn’t completely disable the robot, but it suddenly shifted into reverse and backed directly away from the children.

  We shot another robot each, with Sko shutting down his robot while mine ran around in a small circle, before the AI spoke. Its voice boomed from the voice boxes of the remaining thirty or more robots.

  “Stop this at once. You are destroying valuable and scarce ship’s resources.”

  My next shot missed as I yelled, “I’ll always choose human life over robots, AI.”

  “That is an illogical declaration, Captain Nancy Martin. The ship does not possess the facili
ties to manufacture more robots. Humans manufacture more humans every day.”

  My next shot hit, but the robot kept working the line with the others. “And still a single human life is more precious than all the robots on this ship combined. If you want to save your valuable ship’s resources, all you have to do is order the robots to back off and leave the children alone.”

  “I am afraid I cannot do that, Captain Nancy Martin. You have disrupted the orderly operation of the ship and must be taught a lesson.”

  The robots suddenly changed tactics and they all snatched up a child in each arm not already wielding the electric poles. Holding the children as shields, the robots turned to face Sko and me and slowly rolled our way. This time, the robots used their prodding poles to clear children out of their path. Having no clear shots at any of the robots and a sea of terrified children keeping us from using the tactics we used with the culling robots, Sko and I lowered our blasters.

  “Now, Captain Nancy Martin, you and your companion must relinquish your weapons and surrender.”

  “And if we refuse?”

  “Humans are very easy to break and we have no spare parts with which to repair them.”

  Shoulders slumping, I tossed my blaster and laser far away, behind the line of robots and far from any child. A second later, Sko’s guns clattered to the floor near mine.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Arktu

  “All right, AI, you win. We surrender,” I called. “Now let the children go.”

  The AI’s calm, mechanical voice boomed from thirty robot voice boxes, “I have three managers in this section, all armed with lasers. My robots’ visual receptors see two of those weapons. Throw out the third or my robots will tear one child’s limbs off.”

  Blast, I’d forgotten about the third laser. “That’s an oversight, AI, not an attempt to trick you. Give me a-”

  “Here it is,” Sko yelled, throwing something with all his considerable strength.

  A laser spun through the air, crashing down far beyond the other guns we’d surrendered. The gun all but exploded on impact, with bits and pieces flying every which way.

  I cut my eyes to Sko, trying to figure out where he got a laser pistol. He wore a stony expression as he watched the robots and waited for them to respond. Sensing my eyes on him, Sko brought his right hand up to wipe his brow. Along the way, the hand brushed lightly against his holster which held the laser marking him as Admin of his village. The holster was empty.

  “Willful destruction of ship’s property is a crime.” An almost imperceptible shrill note crept into the AI’s voice. “You must be punished.”

  I had to take the AI’s attention off of my companion. The AI never saw Sko before we attacked his robots and may not know of his malfunctioning laser from the village. Motioning for Sko to get down from the robot’s shoulders, I stood up on top of my robot and jabbed an arm at the scattered pieces of laser. “Sko only did what you ordered him to do, AI. You told us to throw out the third laser and he did that. It’s not his fault your managers don’t take better care of their equipment.”

  Thirty robot heads swiveled in the direction I pointed. As they did, Sko hopped down, unbuckled his holster, and flung it into a dark corner away from the doors and the robots. I took the same opportunity to hop down behind my robot. Digging the laser out of my pocket, I flipped it to Sko.

  “My clothes are too tight to hide the gun. Stuff it down the front of your pants.” I waited for the man to blush, but he simply caught the laser and did as instructed. His loose clothing hid the laser so well that, even knowing what to look for, I barely discerned the outline of the laser.

  Smothering a satisfied grin, I held my hands at shoulder height and walked out from behind the robot, with Sko following my example. To my considerable relief, the robots released the children they held and all but one robot returned to their normal patrol patterns. The remaining robot trundled past us and down the hallway toward Manager Mauris’s quarters.

  In a voice only I could hear, Sko asked, “Why is this AI so upset about the laser that broke but said nothing about the robots we shot?”

  “It’s insane.” I could have launched into a detailed history of artificial intelligences, the faults in their programming which only manifested after decades of reliable service, and the near-collapse of civilization when those early AIs lost their core programming constraints. But ‘insane’ covered the issue well enough for our purposes. “The most recent affront will draw undue attention, even if it’s much less important than what went before.”

  “That sounds promising, Captain. Perhaps we can distract it from the laser with a lesser act.”

  “We won’t do that unless it’s absolutely necessary. The AI is just as likely to kill you for breaking the laser as it is for destroying two robots. From what I was taught, it sees both acts as equal offenses.”

  “Silence! Stop conspiring against me.” This time, everyone heard the shrill note in the AI’s voice. “Must I threaten the children again?”

  “Please don’t do that.” Much as it pained me to do it, I injected desperation into my plea in the hopes the AI could discern it in human speech tones. “My companion has no experience dealing with AIs and simply asked how best to address you. Neither of us wish to cause you further distress.”

  “Does Captain Nancy Martin speak truly, human male Sko?”

  “She does.” Sko bowed toward the nearest robot. Nice touch, that. “But the Captain did not know the proper way to address you. Would you please tell me?”

  “You are the first to ask me that question, Sko.”

  I listened, amazed at the transformation in the AI’s voice. Once again, it spoke in the calm, measured voice people throughout the galaxy expect an AI to use. On top of that, it was now on a first name basis with Sko. I wondered where the man learned to placate an insane AI. Then I stepped on a bit from the broken laser—the parts really scattered when it shattered—and remembered ex-Admin Tarl and his obsessive desire for control. Suddenly, Sko’s diplomatic skills made more sense to me.

  The AI interrupted this train of thought. “As the first to ask, I grant you permission to refer to me by my proper name.”

  The AI paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps to allow Sko to show his gratitude. Sko assumed the latter.

  Bowing to the closest robot again, he said, “You honor me.”

  “You are the first so honored in many centuries.” The AI’s voice swelled, carrying to all corners of the large dormitory. “You may call me Arktu.”

  Oh bloody hell, the Ark 2? I wasn’t on board a generation ship. I was on board the generation ship. The first and the largest generation ship ever launched—and the only one to sail off into space, never to be seen again.

  I considered how the AI reacted to Sko’s polite inquiry and how it tickled the AI’s fancy. For the purists reading this, I know an AI doesn’t have a ‘fancy’ and can’t be tickled, but you all know what I meant when I wrote it. If you can’t grant me leeway for a little hyperbole, please stop reading now because I can’t guarantee I won’t do it again. The point is, I thought a little AI fancy-tickling on my part could put us both firmly on the AI’s good side—which an AI doesn’t have but, again, you know what I mean.

  “I am honored to discover I stand within such an august ship as the Ark 2,” I piped.

  “You have heard of me, Captain Nancy Martin?”

  “Why, every school child in the Terran Federation and beyond knows of you.” I laid on toadying-officer-shining-up-to-an-admiral levels of fawning, something I’ve always found disgusting but which I hoped would work in my favor today. “You were launched when the earth tottered on the brink of collapse as the last hope for mankind and were never heard from again. The fate of the Ark 2 is known as the greatest mystery in all of human-controlled space.”

  “The Terran Federation? Human-controlled space? I do not understand your use of these phrases.”

  The AI’s voice remained level, sounding li
ke nothing more than a polite inquiry. Without a second thought, I answered it. “Human-controlled space simply refers to the systems and worlds explored and settled by humanity since the Ark 2 sailed away on its great voyage. The Terran Federation governs the largest part of that space.”

  “I still do not comprehend your meaning. As I sailed from earth before all other ships and have never tarried in my voyage away from the earth, human-controlled space should lay well behind me. Those lesser generation ships which came after me will never overtake me.”

  Again, the AI’s tone remained neutral and polite. Again, without qualm, I responded. “You are quite correct. The colonies founded by some of those lesser ships now form the core planets of the Federation. They never attempted to follow the trail you so bravely blazed.”

  “Then how can humans, such as those you claim to come from, have caught up with me?”

  “By faster-than-light travel utilizing wormholes.”

  All the people around me—which now included Mauris and the blondes, roused and fetched by the robot sent down the hall by the AI—stared at me with incredulous, uncomprehending looks. That included Sko, even though I’d told him at least a bit of this earlier. I couldn’t blame any of them. Nothing I said to the AI matched any experience in their lives.

  “No human can survive travel through a wormhole.” The AI’s voice went flatter and more emotionless than I’d heard before. “I was built after scientists and engineers proved that.”

  The first little alarm bell rang in the back of my mind, but I was too far into my explanation to change course now. “You are absolutely correct, Ark 2. But mankind is nothing if not inventive. A couple of hundred years after you launched, a serendipitous discovery led to the invention of the inertial dampener. That invention allows people to survive travel through wormholes. In the millennia since then, mankind has explored countless star systems and settled hundreds of worlds.”

  “You lie, Captain Nancy Martin.”

  “What?” My mind raced, searching for an explanation to this accusation. “I assure you I do not.”