by M. D. Cooper
Tangel raised her hands in mock defense and laughed, the sound entirely genuine and a soothing salve to Cary’s ears.
“Even when I win, I lose,” her Moms joked.
Joe’s eyes peeked over the rim of his coffee cup, crinkling with a smile, as he took a sip and said, “Turnabout is fair play.”
Tangel gave him a mock glower before turning to Cary. “I was reviewing the report on your fight with Myrrdan. Did I see correctly that you were able to initiate a grav field?”
Cary nodded as she poured her own cup of coffee. She was about to drink it black, but remembered the last time Faleena had made coffee, and added a sizeable volume of heavy cream.
“Yeah, it was easy, I—”
She stopped, thinking about how to describe the steps necessary to vibrate atomic structures to generate gravitons.
“OK, it’s way harder to describe than actually do. I can show you later.”
Tangel nodded vigorously. “I think I would have done much better against Xavia if I had known how to do that. She certainly did.”
Cary smiled at her mother as she sat down at the table. “Huh. I get to teach you something. Bet this’ll be a once-in-a lifetime event.”
Joe sighed her as he took the seat on Tangel’s right. “Trust me, Cary. You’ve taught your Moms and I plenty of things. All three of you have.”
Saanvi just rolled her eyes, while Faleena leant forward on her elbows and asked, “Like what?”
Tangel winked at Faleena as the door opened, and Rachel stepped in. “Well, patience, for starters.”
FORTRESS OF THE MIND
STELLAR DATE: 10.05.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Somewhere on Lunic Station
REGION: Aldebaran, League of Sentients Space
Iris strained against the solidified gel that held her body, struggling to break free, even though she knew it to be futile.
It was as though she were encased in layers of steel, the form around her body entirely rigid and restricting her completely. The EMP pulse that her attackers had used to disable her had also damaged many of her body’s actuators.
And fried half my nano. And burned out my flowmetal.
These effects made her struggles all the more impotent. Whoever it was that had captured Iris had known very well where to hit her in order to damage her body extensively while saving her core from any harm.
When I get out of here….
What remained of her senses picked up vibrations in the material that encased her, and Iris stilled her thoughts to focus on the movement. Her gyros indicated motion, and then it stopped. A moment later, another slow vibration came, and she realized that it was centered over her chest—directly above her core.
The vibrations carried on and on, and then stopped for a moment before they picked up once again. This time the sensation was sharp, and Iris knew that her captors were cutting through her body.
She desperately tried to activate any defensive system that would respond, but nothing worked, nothing at all. Seconds later, her core housing registered a breach, and sensors mounted directly on her core registered light and sound.
A pair of tong-like objects lowered and settled around her core. Iris kept from making any sounds, though she wanted to rage at whoever this was, warn them of the dire consequences they’d face for the attack on her person.
But she knew bluster would get her nowhere—other than further harm in retaliation.
As her core was forcibly removed from her body, one thought ran over and over in her mind.
Nothing. I’ll give them nothing. I am nothing, I have nothing to give.
The mantra stopped when she was finally pulled out of her ruined body, and she got a clear view of her captors.
Lisas!
Iris thought back to the Lisas—which Misha had called Widows—that she and the crew of Sabrina had fought in Orion Space. The strange women, who were all clones of Finaeus’s ex-wife, Lisa, had captured Cheeky, and the crew had rescued her before pretending to be Widows themselves in order to breach Costa station.
Without a doubt, the Widows had been the most advanced enemy they’d faced in Orion Space. Their stealth systems and weapons had been almost beyond what Sabrina’s crew could counter.
But these Widows were a step above. Iris was still amazed that she and Amavia not been able to detect them at all on the concourse, and that three blasts from her electron beam had barely slowed one of them down.
The one thing Iris didn’t know was how skilled the Widows were at breaching an AI’s mind.
Though she worried that she’d soon find out.
* * * * *
Iris had only ever heard stories of the white place—the screaming maelstrom that suffused an AI’s mind when all inputs were disabled, but consciousness remained.
Her core architecture should have prevented the white place from taking hold of her; it should have let her loop within herself to create a safe space, but that wasn’t working. Try as she might, all she could do was twist about in the storm that threatened to consume her.
They’ve done something to me.
The thought terrified Iris.
For humans, so much of who they were was tied up in what they were. Their bodies and the efficacy and appearance of those physical structures served to reinforce their self-image, and that, in turn, strengthened patterns of ‘self’ in their minds.
While there were risks attached to the necessity of a fully functional body to have a healthy mind, it also added resiliency for humans.
Not so for AIs.
Iris knew that she was more attuned to her body than most AIs—her body that was now a burned-out husk, entombed in some near-impregnable shell—but even so, she was capable of being whole without it.
But therein lay the problem for AIs: threats against the body were of no concern to them. Any damage or alteration made to elicit a response was not applied to some extremity. It would be wreaked upon her very self.
Stars, I’m rambling—not making any sense.
Iris pulled her thoughts together. She knew that other AIs could weather the white place, come through its scathing waves of unbridled consciousness without any harm done. She could do it as well. She had to.
Suddenly the white place was gone, and there was only darkness. She searched through the never-ending nothing, eventually finding a single point of light. Moving toward it, she hoped that she was coming to a data access point, an information locus that would lead her out.
Instead, as she neared it, the point of light began to grow, spreading out on either side and blasting information at her.
The data was nothing: snippets of meaningless code, disparate libraries, chunks of data.
Except it wasn’t meaningless. What the point of light was sending was a breach attempt.
Oh, you silly bitches, Iris laughed as she sidestepped the incoming dataflow. Flooding a core may work with AIs who spent most of their life shackled within prison-like hardware, but it’s not going to work here.
She considered her options. She knew that if they couldn’t breach her with an attack of this nature, they’d move on to far more invasive options, and it was entirely possible that she would have no defenses against those types of attacks.
Coming up with a solution, Iris established a sandboxed portion of her mind, disconnected from any real ability to execute code in her system. She funneled the data coming from the point of light into the separated portion of her mind, letting it build into what it wanted to be.
A Root Cypher, she mused, as the information took shape.
It was a sort of NSAI-construct that made to ferret out the root tokens in an SAI’s mind, thus giving it complete and utter control over the being it set up within.
Well then, have at it. Let’s see what you’re looking for.
Iris let the RC take control of the sandboxed section of her mind. Within seconds, it became all too apparent that the Widows were using the RC in an attempt to learn how best to breach the I2
.
She almost laughed at the thought, knowing that if they were to try tap any systems aboard the I2, Bob would stop them before they made it to the first relay node.
However, as she watched, the nature of the Widows’ queries made their ultimate intent clear to her.
They were seeking information regarding a physical assault, and wanted to know where a high-profile meeting with Tangel would be held.
They want to hit her while she’s talking with President Jasper.
Given the stealth abilities they had, she knew that the Widows just might have a chance. She had to stop them—she just had to figure out how.
There was one obvious answer to the Widows’ queries. If it were only Jasper coming to the meetings, Tangel would have the conversation at her lakehouse, but Senator Deia would most certainly be there as well. That meant a more formal location, likely the conference room between the bridge and the avatar’s foyer.
The Widows’ inquiries intensified, coming faster and in greater volume. Iris knew that if she didn’t give them something, they’d push her past her breaking point. These were no Inner Stars chuckleheads; they could shred her mind down to her basic impulses if they set themselves to the task.
One thing became painfully clear to Iris: if she held out and sacrificed her life in an effort to protect the I2, the threat would still exist.
No. The best way to deal with these witches is to get them in front of Tangel.
So Iris gave them everything. Everything but one vital piece of information.
EXPECTED VISITORS
STELLAR DATE: 10.05.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Bridge Conference Room, ISS I2, near Lunic Station
REGION: Aldebaran, League of Sentients Space
Tangel lifted her eyes from Cary’s bemused smile and rose to greet the League of Sentients delegation.
Captain Rachel was first into the room, stepping away from the door and gesturing for the others to enter. The first to follow her was President Jasper, looking not significantly better than the last time Tangel had seen the man.
Well, he was running for his life then, so I guess he does, in fact, look a little better.
Following him was Senator Deia, an AI wearing a rather human-looking frame for a being who seemed to hold an undercurrent of dislike for organics—at least from what Tangel’s research had shown.
Two of their aides came in after, followed by Admiral Pender, Leader of the LoS’s military.
Joe said as he rose and approached the group alongside Tangel.
“You seem to be well recovered,” the president said with a tired smile. “Better than I am, and I got out of there mostly unscathed.”
Tangel shifted her vision from the corporeal dimensions to others further up and down the spectrum, noting that a dark line of energy seemed to run through the president. She could tell it was an imbalance in his body caused by his proximity to the battle she and Xavia had waged.
After a moment’s consideration she could tell it was an extadimensional type of magnetism, and it was affecting the neurotransmitters in his body.
While performing her analysis, Tangel replied cordially, “We have very advanced medical facilities aboard the I2. It’s entirely possible that you’re dealing with the aftereffects of the energies you were exposed to.”
Jasper nodded. “That’s what our doctors said as well, though they’re unsure how to treat it. The effects do seem to be diminishing, so chances are I just need some more rest.”
“Of course.” Tangel nodded to the president. “Let me know if you change your mind. In the meantime, feel free to grab some coffee. I’m on my third cup this afternoon.”
“Oh?” Senator Deia said as she took Jasper’s place. “I would have thought a being such as yourself wouldn’t need coffee.”
Tangel shook the AI’s hand while giving a slight shake of her head. “I don’t get the same mental stimulation from it that I used to, but many of the physiological effects are still there. Plus the ritual is nice.”
The AI cast Tangel a rather curious look before she shook her head and stepped aside for Admiral Pender.
“I’m sure you hear this often, but it’s quite the ship you have here,” the bearded man said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled—though the expression was barely visible, with the volume of hair on his face.
“Folks may have said something like that once or twice,” she replied with a wink. “To be honest, even after centuries with her, the I2 still feels amazing to me. It’s one of a kind, even though we have four of them now.”
“Five.” Joe corrected from her side. “The Huron made its inaugural flight earlier today.”
“Shoot,” Tangel said with a laugh. “I really can’t keep up.”
Pender cast his gaze upward. “Five of these ships. And you need our help for what now?”
“You know as well as I do, Admiral, that you can’t hold a star system with just one ship. No matter how big it is. Not only that, but there are a lot of starships.”
“But if ever you were to make the attempt, this would be the ship to do it with.”
Tangel smiled and gestured to the table. “Get a cup of coffee if you’d like—we’re shy on automatons right now. Also these are our daughters, Lieutenants Cary, Saanvi, and Faleena.”
The three nodded to the guests from where they stood on the far side of the table, then took their seats.
Tangel turned to the two aides who had been hanging back at the entrance and gave them a warm smile. “Julie and Vex? Please, join us at the table.”
The pair seemed reluctant, but Rachel added, “There’s plenty of room. It would be strange if you stood off to the side. Come.”
Tangel could see that President Jasper was ambivalent to the seating arrangements, while Admiral Pender—the only one without an aide of any sort—seemed pleased. Deia’s expression was carefully schooled, but Tangel could see beyond the physical, and knew that the AI was annoyed.
Whether it was from the courtesy being extended to the assistants, or because those underlings were human—which would be odd, given that one of them was hers—remained to be seen.
As Tangel settled into her own seat, she considered the admiral’s lack of an aide, her gaze sliding through his body as she checked to see if his mods were such that he didn’t need any assistance.
Oh, well that explains it…
“Admiral Pender, were you not going to introduce us all to our sixth guest?”
A laugh burst from the man’s throat, and he nodded. “I told Brent that you’d be able to see him.
“It’s some stealth gear that we’re employing to give AIs more mobility without being obvious about their presence on the field,” the admiral explained.
“No, I wasn’t,” Tangel glanced at Rachel. “Though I also wasn’t reviewing with the ship’s scan. It may have picked you up.”
“We didn’t run any deep scans,” the I2’s captain replied, her brow lowered in annoyance. “Though maybe that courtesy was in error.”
“I’m sorry,” the admiral raised his hands off the table in a mollifying gesture. “It was my idea. Brent also thought it was in bad taste, but I find that unexpected tests make for the most telling results.”
“Well, we’re glad to have Brent with us.” Tangel inclined her head to where Brent resided within the Admiral’s uniform as she spoke. “I’m curious. Do the two of you work together frequently?”
“We do,” Pender replied. “But I’m an L2, so I can’t be paired with an AI. This is our second best option.”
“You know,” Tangel said with a slow wink, “I’m an L2, and I was paired with an AI. For a time, my daughter Cary—also an L2—was paired with Faleena, as well.”
Tangel gestured to the two sisters sitting next to Joe, and they both nodded.
“We had to separate early for unrelated reasons,” Cary said. “But it’s certainly possible for L2s to be paired.”
“Surely not in all cases,” Senator Deia said, her tone conveying no small amount of disbelief.
“Of course not,” Tangel replied. “Not all L2 humans—and not all AIs as well, for that matter—are capable of it. But,” Tangel turned her gaze back to the admiral, “from what I can see of you and Brent, it may be possible.”
“So you can see into minds,” Senator Deia spoke the words as an accusation.
“Deia, please.” President Jasper held up his hand. “Do you have to antagonize everyone all the time?”
The raw frustration in the president’s voice caused Tangel to realize the man was barely holding on at present. The stress of the past few days, combined with the imbalance in his body, was getting the better of him.
“That’s rather disconcerting,” the AI said, and Tangel could see that Pender had a similar opinion.