3Maggie did as he ordered. She was frowning because the things he was saying did not make sense in the ordinary way.
“What kinds of classified cargo could they be carrying?”
“Well, robot, they might be carrying nuclear or radionuclide weapons, cryptocurrencies, unlicensed robots, malevolent software Zero Days, sex toys, cloaking devices, secret technological developments, and so forth.”
“You’re making my head spin, but I’m trying to create a new tableau with the possibilities. Just how do you deduce that we’re looking at a special projects convoy?”
“Three indicators make the convoy stand out. First, its size is over five parsecs in length and three in depth. Second, the convoy is deliberately understating its electronic signature. Third, interspersed in the mélange are some of the fastest interceptors known.”
“I have plotted the interceptors now that you mention them. I must admit I am surprised by them. They are far more powerful than would be required to repel a raid by individual spaceships like ours.”
“Think for a few cycles, 3Maggie, about the understatement of the EM signature.”
“Computing now. A clear strategy for luring adventurers is to understate the electro-magnetic signature of a mass of units. But that doesn’t make sense to me. Why would a caravan purposely want to attract an attacking predatory group?”
“See if you can answer your own question while I take a closer look at the transport spacecraft.”
3Maggie used her algorithms to discover the answer to her own question. “I have a tentative answer. Imperial strategy pretends to be weak and indecisive. Bold predators will therefore attack, fooled by outward appearances. They will be destroyed by the superior firepower hidden among the cargo vessels. I deduce that the imperial feint has two purposes. It cloaks what it most wants to reveal. It also purposes the destruction of any rebel group desiring to seize its cargo.”
“Good thoughts. Now slew out your display to a ten parsec limit. What do you see approaching?”
“I see a massive attack formation in three parts. If that formation remains intact, the leading group will penetrate the middle of the imperial caravan while the others will take out the lead and following craft. If they are not aware of the trap, they’ll be fooled and perish in the ensuing firefight.”
Manny nodded. “You have a good idea of what will happen—unless, of course, the attackers are warned.”
3Maggie loaded a few advanced algorithms to deal with the evolving situation. “I have discovered an alternative evaluation, based on a real case in the imperial records.”
“Let me guess. In order to obliterate a special force of the resistance, the Empire provided a decoy caravanserai whose sole purpose was to lure the rebels into an untenable situation in which they would either have to surrender or die.”
The robot shook her head in amazement. “You are quite intelligent, for a human.”
“Thank you, 3Maggie. While you send an encrypted burst transmission toward the lead vessel in the attacking force, I’ll monitor the reactions of the convoy.”
3Maggie sent her burst. Manny observed the convoy’s reactions to her communication. The rebel force requested authentication by return burst.
“That’s a bad response, 3Maggie. It’s time for us to send the code word ARCTURUS just before we change our position.”
3Maggie transmitted the authentication, and Manny jigged left and right to maneuver to their new position. A space torpedo meanwhile entered their last position to begin a spiral search around the last position of their communication. They watched the torpedo’s track, but it could not acquire their signature. When the weapon had completed its designed run, it detonated as it was required to do.
The robot shook her head. She pointed to the display. “Manny, the attackers have split their formation. One half are standing off while the other half are continuing to attack.”
“Idiots!” exclaimed the Edgemaster. “The attackers will be destroyed. There’s nothing we can do to prevent that.”
3Maggie kept her eyes glued on the 3-D display. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
“We’ll assume the role of overwatch. Maybe as the battle plays out, we’ll get a chance to help. The commander of the attacking group is hell-bent on seizing that cargo.”
3Maggie looked puzzled. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘hell-bent,’ but I’ll assume you mean the commander is destined to self-destruct to accomplish his or her mission.”
“Good guess, robot. See how the cloaked interceptors amongst the cargo vessels are breaking out of formation to confront the attacking rebel force?”
3Maggie nodded. Instinctively, her right hand went to hover over the weapons console.
“Your instincts are good, robot. Stand by for action, but only on my command.”
“Standing by.”
Farstar was the veteran of hundreds of battles in the seemingly eternal war between the Empire and the resistance. He was known for his cool composure under fire. His new 3Maggie had never witnessed him in battle, so she watched in fascination while he broke every rule in the command manual of arms.
“Notice how those three large transports have moved to the opposite side of the convoy, anticipating the assault and positioning to avoid the rebels.”
“Does that mean that those are the high value units the rebels are looking for?”
“Unless they’re a snare and delusion, they contain the treasures the rebel forces need. We are going to remain cloaked and maneuver to the opposite side of the formation. Keep your distance at no closer than 1.5 parsecs. I suspect we’ll be in position after most of the shooting has desisted.”
“As such, we’ll be sacrificing the rebels who advance.”
“That can’t be help, robot. What we can do is to preserve their mission for the survivors to pursue.”
Farstar’s spaceship was soon in position behind the three cargo units. It was cloaked and waiting until the main battle had ended. The main display indicated that half of the defending fighters had been destroyed in the battle, but they had killed the entire attacking force. The half of the attacking force that had stood off now regrouped to attack again. Against them, the remaining defenders lined up.
“Both sides have gone insane, 3Maggie. When they start their second battle, we’ll see what’s inside those three cargo vessels, by boarding them as necessary. None of the defenders is paying overt attention to the three high value units. Prepare space mines for each of those vessels if we decide to destroy them.”
3Maggie did as she was told. Meanwhile, she maneuvered the spaceship directly behind the largest of the three transports. From their behaviors, Manny saw they did not detect his vessel approaching from their rear.
“Sensors are recording nuclear radiation—weapons are indicated.”
“Be ready for implanting space mines to destroy each transport. Set for magnetic detonation.”
“All weapons have been set. Awaiting your orders to release the weapons.”
“Release three weapons, one at each target. When they have all been released, retreat to a safe location where we can observe their effects.”
Manny watched the master display as 3Maggie released the three space mines. She backed the spacecraft away from the three vessels to a location 1.5 parsecs on the opposite side of the convoy from the active fighting, which was not going well for the attackers.
Manny saw the final salvo destroy the last of the rebel fighter spacecraft. All that was left of the brave attackers was inert debris and sullen fires of burning metal. The five remaining defenders took station around the three cargo units that Manny had targeted. The Edgemaster smiled at what was unfolding before his eyes.
“Manny, when those fighters close with the three transports, our mines will explode—and they will all be destroyed.”
Farstar nodded. He slewed their display so they could observe the denouement of the action. The eight vessels had just regained their place in the caravan
when the mines detonated simultaneously. That was only just the beginning. The weapons on the three transports subsequently detonated too. Nuclear signatures reached fore and aft along the convoy, setting off munitions in the other spacecraft. The display was spectacular.
“It appears the five fighters and the three transports have been destroyed. Of the other craft in the convoy, half have been either disabled or destroyed.”
“I can’t say I’m sorry, 3Maggie. Those nuclear weapons were outlawed long ago. They have left an area of the universe uninhabitable for the next million years. The contamination from their blasts will render the other cargo in the caravan unusable.”
The robot closed her eyes for a moment. “Does all that mean we did well? Or not?”
“We won’t wait around for others to make that call. I’m going to enter coordinates far away from this devastation. We’ll wait there until I think the coast is clear.”
“I like that expression, ‘the coast is clear.’ I imagine a swelling ocean and a beach where no threats appear to menace an amphibious landing.”
“I think you’ll like the hideaway we’re heading toward.”
“Do I get a hint?” She smiled mischievously.
He nodded. “How does goat cheese sound to you?”
“That’s supposed to be healthy for humans, isn’t it?”
“It is. I happen to own three planets where goats live. There’s also one with a stone hut where we can have a vacation.”
“A ‘vacation’—where you can empty your mind?”
“Something like that, yes. I think it’s time for us to do a rope-a-dope. Don’t you?”
3Maggie did not answer but executed the required 360-degree turn, ending on the track they were pursuing. No enemy pursuer craft were in their wake. She reported, “The coast is clear.”
“That’s correct, robot, but there is no coast apparent.”
“Just like the last time when you used the term. Maybe there’s a better term to use?”
Manny Farstar took the helm and imposed on their track a pattern of maneuvers that would keep any followers in a state of confusion. He also changed the destination for their voyage to a point far enough away from the solar system of his goat planets so they could monitor any imperial activity that threatened them.
Farstar composed a detailed report about his decisions regarding the caravanserai. He admitted he had no idea why the forbidden weapons were aboard those three transports or why the rebel forces were determined to intercept the convoy.
3Maggie also wrote an independent report of the incident. When she compared it with Manny’s report, she saw it agreed in all essentials. Like his report, hers ended with the recommendation to impose travel restrictions around the volume where the radiation of the blast was active. A notice to space mariners would doubtless be composed to keep all lawful craft well out of harm’s way.
In the sleeping compartment, Manny provided 3Maggie with the recordings he had made on his goat planet. Among those was the conversation he had with Mr. Frictenicht, the father of the young woman who gave the Edgemaster the vital information about the wealth that the goat planet contained under its rustic veneer.
3Maggie recognized the old man Frictenicht, who was talking with Farstar. She recognized him as ‘my father,’ on account of her programming. A tear coursed down her cheek as she watched the trillionaire move his weapon towards Manny’s head.
“I don’t know why I’m crying, Manny. Why do humans cry?”
“We cry when we are sad, 3Maggie. We cry when there is nothing else we can do to express our emotions. We cry about what we valued that is lost.”
“Why do you suppose I cry when I see that old man sitting with you on the edge of that empty grave?”
“Maybe it’s because some part of you knows that old man is gone. It could be that you remember why he is gone—but I sincerely hope you don’t. Of course, you could be having a premonition about the future, not the past.”
“My computations are going haywire after that comment. Will you please explain in terms a robot can understand?”
“Let’s see. I’ll start with likelihoods. You can compute probabilities about the future, can’t you?”
“Of course, I can. My algorithms are full of probabilistic formulas.”
“Can you calculate the possibility that some being that you think is dead is really alive?”
“That seems to me a binary contradiction—two things that cannot be true at the same time.”
“Like being both alive and dead?”
“Yes, Manny. Unless you mean a reconstruction. As a robot, I am formed of parts both new and old. As a hybrid AI, I even have human parts. So in a sense, I have parts from former lives that are alive in me.”
“You are truly a poet, 3Maggie.”
“Am I? But Aristotle the Greek logician had contempt for poets. He laughed about their definition of a beach as the place where the waves play.”
“Well, I hope you know he was right.”
“You’re playing mind games with me now.”
“Not really. You know that the wave action on a sandy shore is like a rhythmic playing.”
“When you put it that way, yes, I can.”
“So poets aren’t necessarily insane. They just have a different way of telling how things are.”
“I think you must be a poet, Manny Farstar.”
“Why do you say that, 3Maggie?”
“The faraway look you got in your eyes when you talked with my father on your goat planet told me things about you I never knew. They aren’t part of your record, anyway.”
“I don’t suppose everything about you appears in your instruction manual either.”
“Precisely. In fact, nothing I consider important about me is in that manual.”
Intrigued by his robot, Manny decided to play music for them both. He brought out a one-string instrument and a bow. He tuned the string and scraped the bow over it. Soon the space was filled with the sound of music. 3Maggie made sounds like singing. He stopped playing his instrument and listened to her rendition of his sounds.
“Now I know you are a musician. I like your music. Do you like mine?”
“I do, robot. And I notice that you were being somewhat creative. You did not just repeat back what I played—you played some things that were entirely new. So you were composing.”
“Are you surprised by that. After all, I’m a learner AI, and I am partly human too. Look into my eyes and tell me what you see.”
Farstar did as she asked. “I see irises of blue and green shattered glass, and a pupil black as night, covered by a face that must be mine.”
She seemed embarrassed. She blinked and bobbed her head.
“Tell me how you kiss.”
He said, “You’ve been reading poetry, I think.”
“I have. No greater training can there be than poetry if not another’s mystery.”
“And you were saying bad things about Aristotle a few minutes ago.”
“How do you feel about nuclear weapons?”
“I have a visceral reaction whenever I think of them. I’ve seen their effects throughout the universe. Planets crisped and black. Planets burning with eternal fires from nuclear weapons. My home planet Earth’s oceans and seas bubbling with the heat of reactors that sunk to the bottom, there to spew radioactive gasses through a million half lives. I’ve seen people burned beyond recognition as humans and machines torn asunder by the effects of heat and blast. I’ve seen no good done by nuclear weapons.”
“So why did you set off those weapons in deep space?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time, robot. Whether the evil Empire was going to use those weapons or the resistance was intending to use them, it is all the same. Now no one will use them, and the boundaries of their reach will be known by the markers officialdom will establish as a warning.”
“I saw the light in your eyes when you watched the large monitor displays of the explosions.”
“I saw awe. Wonder. Your pupils narrowed. Your eyes twitched. I saw signs of delight, and cruelty.”
“I have to admit from the first time I saw pictures of nuclear bombs exploding, I’ve been fascinated by the quality of the light they give off.”
“Can beauty and bewilderment coexist in the minds of machines?”
“I’m not sure, 3Maggie. Maybe you should tell me. What did you see when the weapons detonated in the middle of that convoy?”
“I can give you a read-out of the light spectrum I witnessed. I can tell you how what I saw translates into heat signatures. I can even give you estimates of how the blast effects spread in space. I felt a tremor, but it was not from the physical effects of the blast or the heat or light. I think what I felt was what you humans call mortality.”
“So perhaps robots can feel what it’s like to be mortal?”
“I think it’s more that I could feel what it’s like to be obliterated. Of course, my human alter ego had been through that before.”
“So you felt a kind of sympathy for the Frictenicht part of you?”
She screwed up her face and took his palm, face up. She ran her fingernails along his growth line. He felt a shiver run up his spine.
“Did you like that sensation?”
“What do you suppose it did to me?”
“It’s supposed to make you tingle. Did it?”
“Yes, it did. Are you going to tell me that everything you do to me is part of a practical experiment to test how I react?”
“I won’t tell you that if it’s going to hurt your feelings.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure how to deal with you when I feel like a laboratory animal under your scrutiny.”
“Why don’t you consider for a minute how I must feel when you search my eyes for signs your ministrations are giving me pleasure or pain.”
“Hmm. Are you hurt by that?”
“I don’t know what to think. Perhaps you must tell me what to think. Like when I asked you to sit back while I kissed you like you kissed me. You seemed shocked because you had a pattern in your mind and I broke it.”
“I always liked to take the initiative in love.”
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