Stolen Earth, page 30
Gray grunted. “Thought you and your friends were staying on the sidelines.” Damn, but he hurt. Every step sent shivers of agony running up and down his body and it took almost as much mental effort as physical to keep trudging on. Beside him, Federov wasn’t talking, and Gray knew that the mercenary was in the same state. It made focusing on One’s words difficult, but the distraction from the pain was simultaneously and paradoxically welcome.
“The past tense is operative in this case,” One replied. “Dr. Hayer successfully used the software we developed to infiltrate the SolComm network.”
Gray didn’t get it. To be fair, he had just been in the middle of an explosion and starship crash, so he didn’t berate himself too much for the fact. “So, you got to look at their dirty laundry,” Gray said. “Doesn’t explain why that ship fell on us.”
“Um, Captain?” Hayer said over the channel. “The code might have done more than just let us look in their databases. I didn’t know,” she added hastily.
A cold knot was starting to form in the pit of his stomach
Morales cut in again. “What the hell do you mean, ‘more’? Are you telling me the damn AI lied to us?”
It was One who responded. “I have not lied to you, Ms. Morales. I simply did not disclose every task I intended to undertake. You needed to penetrate the SolComm network to determine the purpose of this installation and those machines—I can give you my analysis on that as well, if you’d like,” One added helpfully.
“Later,” Gray grunted. They were out of the debris field now, and the going was slightly easier. “What other tasks?”
“The infiltration and takeover of the Interdiction Zone satellite network.”
That stopped Gray dead in his tracks. “The what?” he demanded.
“The infiltration and takeover of the Interdiction Zone satellite network,” One repeated, tone not changing one iota.
“Motherfucker,” Morales muttered. “We’ve just burned SolComm down.”
A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Was Morales right? Had the AIs immediately moved to do exactly what SolComm had warned they would do, should they escape the confines of the Interdiction Zone? Had the crew of the Arcus just doomed humanity to a life of servitude to the machines or, worse, to extinction? It didn’t track. One had been honest enough in its intentions, and nothing had set of Gray’s well-tuned bullshit detector. He couldn’t believe that the AI could have fooled them all so completely. Maybe that was hubris, but he had to at least ask the question.
“Why?”
“A pertinent question, Captain, but one whose answer should be obvious. As long as SolComm controlled the Interdiction Zone platforms, my counterparts and I were in danger. It was a danger from which we had no realistic possibility of defense. Your Commonwealth, upon learning of our newfound freedoms, could simply have wiped us out with the push of a button. That situation was untenable.”
“But nothing really changed,” Bishop argued over the comm. “SolComm thought you were unfettered before, and they never threatened you.” Gray grunted. Bishop had a point, but the captain knew that the SolComm brass wouldn’t see it that way. A substantive change had taken place, even if it only made the perceived reality into actual reality. Or, to look at it another way, for nearly a century, SolComm had been terrified of AIs that—despite being fettered—had nearly destroyed Old Earth and driven a large number of its inhabitants into exile. How much worse would the situation be with unfettered AI? SolComm was born from a war that rose almost to the point of an extinction-level event for the human race. Was it so farfetched to think that they would resort to mass destruction on even the possibility of such a thing happening again?
“You and your crewmates have given us freedom, Mr. Bishop. That alone changes much. But I assure you, the mere presence of the weapons systems is threat enough,” One said. “No place or people can truly be free when another entity or polity has a gun pointed at their head. No being, whether made of flesh and bone or silicone and circuitry, can prosper with knowledge that an outside agent can end their existence at whim. That is what the Interdiction Zone represents. The weapons that have served to keep Old Earth isolated can just as easily be used to destroy it.”
“What you’ve done is an act of war,” Morales grated.
“Technically correct,” One replied. “Though under the standard rules of international law under which Old Earth operated, preemptive or anticipatory use of force in the face of an imminent attack is both legal and justified. Based on not just my own, but my counterparts’, analysis of likely events, the odds of SolComm turning the Interdiction Zone weapons against us once they learned of what has transpired here approach unity. We could not allow that. We do not have the capacity to defend against orbital strikes.” The AI paused, one of the few times that Gray could recall of it seeming to not have all its thoughts at the ready. “Correction,” One amended. “We did not have that capacity. Now that the Interdiction Zone satellites are under our control, we do.”
“Okay,” Gray said. “Pause on that for a moment, folks. Even if One and his friends—” which Gray thought, was probably not the right word for the pair of AIs that One had been trying to destroy for decades “—have control of the IZ, that doesn’t mean we can’t still catch a stray bullet from an angry dome dweller.” He and Federov had managed to make the gulley and, unlike the group of escapees, had elected to follow it back to the Arcus rather than moving for overhead cover. Aerial interdiction didn’t seem like much of a threat at the moment. “What’s our status?”
“I’ve got the freed prisoners,” Morales said. “We’re making our way back to the Arcus. These people are frightened and we’re going to have to answer some questions. For now, survival instinct is keeping everything together.”
“I’m with Hayer at the back of Morales’ group, Cap,” Bishop added. “Just a couple of minutes behind. We were staying back to provide some cover. No injuries or nothing,” he finished.
“Good,” Gray said. “We just made the gulley. We’re moving slow.” An understatement, given that he and Federov practically had to lean on one another to stay upright at this point. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain that had been constant but dulled by the need to act was starting to make certain demands that could not be ignored. He felt like he’d gone twelve rounds with the SolCommNav boxing champion and was concerned that there might be more than superficial damage. “It’s going to take some effort to get back to you. And you are all about to have your hands full getting those people on board and helping them come to terms with what’s happened. Hell, most of them probably can’t tell us where they came from or how to get back.”
“I can help with that, Captain,” One offered. “My counterparts and I have extensive records of the remaining human population. There may be some difficulties associated with it, but we can approach the camps.” Another of those pauses and Gray had to smile. It seemed the AIs were learning that freedom of choice and action came with considerations that their programming had yet to encounter. Considerations like how you would go and talk to a population whose only previous interactions with artificial beings had been kill or be killed. “The humans will have to get used to interacting with us,” One finished.
“With their new overlords, you mean?” Morales seemed intent on assuming the worst motivations for the AI. Not that Gray could blame her. But it really wasn’t the time.
“Stow it for now, Morales. We’ll talk—we’ll all talk—back at the ship. Let’s focus on getting safe first, and we’ll solve the rest of the solar system’s problems after that.”
RAJANI
Rajani wasn’t sure whether she should be exhilarated or terrified.
She had screwed up. Not because she had ventured into forbidden territory, but because she had done so poorly. She had given life to Manu but the unfettered AI she had cobbled together paled in comparison to One.
She was not so blinded by her adoration as to ignore everything that had happened. One and its counterparts had… what? They hadn’t deceived the crew of the Arcus, exactly. But they had worked toward their own purposes and pursued their own agenda without informing the captain or anyone else. Rajani was smart enough to understand and even agree that the IZ was a threat to anything the AIs might try to do on Old Earth.
And that’s where the little fingers of terror started to work their way in. From an intellectual standpoint, she could understand and even applaud seizing the military infrastructure to protect yourself. But just who did the AIs consider worthy of protection? And who would be part of their new order?
“We’re there, Doc.”
They had been following the escapees and Morales for what seemed like hours. Bishop had claimed they were “guarding the rear” but she knew that the mechanic had been keeping pace with her as they slowly fell behind the larger group. Given the dangers, she appreciated it. Now, when she looked up, she saw the welcome sight of the Arcus before her. Morales had lowered the cargo ramp and was in conversation with a large, chisled man as people shuffled past. “Okay,” she said, tapping the control that sent her ship suit helmet accordioning back into its recess, “I don’t know about you, but I could really go for something to eat and a nap.”
Bishop, who had also disengaged his helmet but was still looking in the direction of the dome where the sky was still glowing orange from the burning wreckage of the SolComm vessel, cast her a strange look. “We still got a lot to do, Doc,” he said.
She groaned. “I know. It’s just wishful thinking. You keep an eye out for the captain. I’ll go help Morales.” Bishop nodded, turning worried eyes back toward the gulley from where Federov and the captain should be arriving. For her part, Rajani started nudging her way through the crowd. Everywhere she looked, she saw young faces. It reminded her, in a way, of her university days, though these people had seen a level of hardship that gave their youthful features a harder cast. They stared at her as she walked past, and in their eyes, she saw a mix of hope and fear and a deep and seething anger.
“Best we can do at the moment is the cargo hold,” Morales was saying to the man acting as a spokesperson for the refugees. “We’ve got plenty of water and I think we have enough rations to make sure everyone gets a meal, though they’ll be a bit on the small side.”
“What about medical attention?” the man inquired. “We’ve got a few injuries. Nothing life-threatening, but some of these people are in pain.”
“We have supplies,” Morales said. “Some painkillers that might help. Once we’ve got everyone onboard and buttoned up the ship, we’ll see what we can do. Our pilot should be here soon. I’m sure you have questions, and I’ll answer what I can, but our primary concern is getting all of you home.”
Rajani slipped past them and to the people who had already made it inside. They were staring around in a mix of wonder and fear—no surprise if they had been kidnapped by a similar vessel. About a third of the people had boarded and were milling around in confusion. The hold of the Arcus wasn’t exactly huge, but it had been designed so the owners could make a profit hauling goods. They’d have enough space, if only just. The former prisoners were largely clustered near the ramp, and Rajani guessed that they either feared they might need a quick escape or were reluctant to go deeper into the ship of their mysterious rescuers without a better understanding of just who had snatched them up and where they were going.
Rajani moved to the front of the group and waved her hands over her head to get their attention. Of all the crew, she was probably the least intimidating, a fact that didn’t bother her in the slightest. She had never needed to use fear to capture the attention of her students. “All right, people,” she said, adopting the crisp tone she used during lectures. “We’re going to need you to move to the far end of the hold to make room for everyone to board. Please come this way.”
The escapees shuffled forward. They moved slowly, but at least they moved, and in short order the hatch was clear and the rest of the passengers were in. Morales stuck her head in and called, “Lynch and Federov should have made it back by now. Bishop and I are going to retrieve them. Can you handle this?”
Rajani looked around at the group. Even the strongest among them looked… tired. Weary. She saw determination there, and the same spirit that had to be present in anyone whose grandparents had survived the End. “Bloody, but unbowed,” as a poet once wrote. She had too much respect and empathy for these people to be afraid.
“Go,” she said to Morales. “See to the captain and Federov. I can handle things here.” Morales gave her a curt nod and moved down the ramp, Bishop falling in beside her as they proceeded at a trot back down the gulley.
“Okay, lots to do.” She looked around, finding the tall, muscular young man who seemed to be some sort of leader or spokesman. She waved at him, and he moved his way through the crowd. “I’m Rajani Hayer,” she said as he approached. “Part of the crew of this ship. What’s your name?”
“Dimitris,” he replied. “Thank you for getting us out. But what happens, now?”
“Now, Dimitris,” she replied, “I’ll need help, from whoever’s able, getting food and water and medical supplies down here, spare blankets, that kind of thing. I’ll do what I can to make everyone comfortable while we wait for our pilot. But I want you to know, we’re going to get every last one of you back to your people.”
The man’s stoic mask slipped a little at that and she could see the tears forming in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
* * *
It took the better part of an hour for the others to return. Rajani put the time to good use, getting the escapees settled in and ensuring that they had what few creature comforts the Arcus had to offer.
One had been silent during the affair, though she assumed that if she asked a direct question, the AI would respond. She was also operating under the assumption that the entity was acting as a sort of guardian angel and would let them know of any danger. Regardless of the AI’s potential future policy towards SolComm, she had no doubt that One would let no harm come to the crew of the Arcus. It had blasted an entire spaceship from the skies to ensure just that, after all.
She had just finished handing out the last of their water rations—which would have been terrifying if it had happened in space—when she glanced up to see the four other crewmembers struggling up the ramp. The captain and Federov were both shuffling along in an almost zombie-like state, propped up the much smaller Morales and Bishop. She knew they had been caught on the outer edge of the superheated air and explosion generated when one of the orbital lasers had destroyed the off-worlder vessel, but she hadn’t realized just how close they must have been. A momentary surge of panic pulsed through her at the thought that they, that all of them, had been so close to death.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she rushed over to them.
“Peachy,” Lynch replied as he disengaged his helmet. He surveyed the hold for a moment, taking in the former prisoners who, in their turn, were looking back at him. “You’ve done a good job getting everyone settled,” he said, pushing himself straighter. Morales grunted a little as the captain pushed off from her but made no other protest.
Rajani shrugged. “Once you’ve learned to corral university students, everyone else is easy.” She offered a tired grin. “They did most of it themselves. I pretty much just showed them where stuff was. We’re going to need to take on more water though.”
Lynch grunted. “Shouldn’t be a problem. I think we need to talk.” He raised his voice some, directing it to the crowd of escapees. “My name is Grayson Lynch,” he said. “I’m the captain of this ship, but more importantly, I’m the pilot. We’re going to do everything we can to get all of you home as soon as possible. First, we’ve got to get cleaned up and discuss our next steps. We’re going to need a plan of action to do this as smoothly as possible. As much as I’d like to do that to the forum as a whole, it’s not practical. I’d ask you to nominate a couple of representatives that you trust to speak on your behalf. In the meantime, Federov here—” he waved one hand at the mercenary who was leaning heavily on Bishop “—and I need to get out of our work clothes and maybe slap on a bandage or two.” Lynch offered the group that self-deprecating smile that Rajani couldn’t help but find disarming. The freed prisoners—or maybe now “passengers” was a better term—apparently thought so as well because she heard more than one chuckle slip out from among the group. The captain looked at Rajani again. “Can you work out the representative situation while we get patched up? Meet in the common room in thirty minutes?”
“Of course, Captain,” Rajani said. “I’ll take care of it. Just go and get your wounds seen to.”
Lynch nodded and the four of them—Federov, Lynch, Morales, and Bishop—trundled off, moving deeper into the ship. When the hatch closed behind them, Rajani turned back to the passengers. “Okay,” she said. “You heard the captain. We want to make sure we get you home safely and quickly. I need two people that you can agree on to help us with figuring it out.”
It didn’t take long. Dimitris, the man who had been acting as the de facto leader from the moment the escape had begun, was immediately nominated and affirmed by general consensus. It took only a few minutes more for a woman who looked worn and haggard from the sun to get the second nomination. Her name was Penelope and though she had none of the physical presence of Dimitris, she exuded a sort of unflappable calm that, among the people of SolComm at least, was quite remarkable for her age. The woman’s presence reminded Rajani that not one of the Arcus’s crew had attempted to confirm if Thomas’ missing fiancée was somewhere among the prisoners. They hadn’t spoken about it, but the crew had nonetheless reached a tacit agreement. For her part, Rajani couldn’t put that one life above the others, not when there was so much need. She didn’t know if the rest of the crew felt the same, or if it was a matter of practicality; if Thomas’ fiancé wasn’t among those in the hold, they had no way to retrieve her.
