Stephen Berry - The AI War

"In," said L'Wrona. The two stepped back, the captain palming shut the thick blast doors. They snicked together as the first blades reached the armory.

L'Wrona touched his communicator. "J'Quel," he said, watching thin white lines of energy slowly carve through the door, "we need out now."

"They're on their way," came D'Trelna's voice.

"We're here," said Guan-Sharick. L'Wrona and R'Gal turned-Lan-Asal and Guan-Sharick stood between them and the troopers.

"Get the rest out of here first." said the captain, stepping to the small stack of gear they'd carried in. "I have something to do."

"Gone?" repeated T'Lan One, staring at the comm screen. "Where and how?"

The woman shrugged wearily. Behind her the pickup showed the open door of Armory Seven, with security troops and blades flitting in and out. "Unknown."

"Guan-Sharick," said T'Lan One. "Teleported them out."

"All of them? That fast?" said the other AI.

"There were five of them during the revolt," said T'Lan One. "Maybe more than one survived.

"All ships to intercept Implacable," he said. "And advise Confederation FleetOps that we've just suffered a corsair attack-give them full battlespecs."

"But if they find Implacable first, we won't recover the device."

"It's more important to deprive them of it," said T'Lan One.

Panicked shouting came from the comm screen. Startled, both AIs turned back to the comm screen. Their security forces were scattering, troops and blades fleeing down the corridors.

"What…?" began T'Lan One.

The captain's face reappeared. "Blastpak," she said hoarsely, glancing over her shoulder. "No time to disarm-"

The screen winked off. The AIs looked at the surface monitors as flame washed over the pickups, leaving only screen fuzz and static in its wake.

"Can we take the aftershock?" asked T'Lan Two A. He'd hoped to remain functional for more than a day.

His question was answered as the ground wave shattered the ceiling and west wall, sending tons of earth exploding in on the command center.

Stephen Ames Berry

The AI War

Implacables auditorium was packed-every off-duty crewman on the ship was in attendance, relieved by a handful of personnel, themselves watching via comm screen.

The chatter died as D'Trelna stood, stepping to the podium.

"As you know, we're a hunted ship," he began, eyes going from face to face. "Fleet and Combine forces are searching for us with a vigor previously reserved for K'Tran."

He leaned forward, big hands gripping the podium. "We're the only ones who know the entire truth behind the Biofab War, the only ones who know beyond any doubt that the Fleet of the One is coming, and-the reason we're now corsair-listed-the only ones who know the truth behind Combine T'Lan. Colonel R'Gal"-he nodded to the AI, seated in the front row-"and his people have, for reasons of their own safety and effectiveness, declined to give the alarm about Combine T'Lan. And we've been very cleverly put into a position where any warning we'd give would be dismissed.

"We have a plan," he continued. "It's dangerous, wild, and likely to fail. But before I discuss it, I want you to know that we'll be happy to set down at the nearest port anyone who wants out. You signed on, most of you, to fight S'Cotar and save the Confederation, not to become ensnared in this ancient web of intrigue.

"If we slip you planetside, you'll be provided with new computer-confirmed identities and documentation, courtesy of Colonel R'Gal and Fleet Intelligence files. You're all skilled technicals-you'll have no trouble finding good jobs on any of a thousand worlds." He paused and smiled. "No hard feelings-you're the best of a good lot. So anyone who wants out, please fall out now and report to briefing room four, deck three."

No one moved; then a rating stood-he was almost old enough to shave. "Sir, aren't we still fighting for the Confederation?"

"We are," nodded the commodore. "It's just that the Confederation isn't aware of it."

There was a ripple of nervous laughter.

"Sir, we're soldiers," said the rating. "We took an oath to fight for the Confederation. These machines may have fooled FleetOps and the Council, but it doesn't wipe our oath. You lead, we'll follow."

As he sat back down, applause rippled through the auditorium, growing louder, until all were on their feet, clapping and cheering. Then someone struck up the Confederation anthem, the J'Rin. Voice after voice picked it up, sending all five verses ringing from the high ceiling.

D'Trelna waited until it died down. "Thank you," he said, a catch to his voice. Not trusting himself, he sat back down.

L'Wrona took the podium.

"We've been contacted by K'Tran. We're to rendezvous with Alpha Prime-and her sister ships."

That caused a stir, the whispers running through the auditorium until L'Wrona cleared his throat. "The previous offer stands," he said. "Anyone who wants off, say so. But say so now." His eyes looked over the faces, many of them apprehensive. Kids, he thought, so many of them-more afraid to show fear than to die. Was I ever that young? he wondered.

"At the rendezvous," continued the captain, "we'll firm up strategy and proceed."

"Proceed where?"

It was Zahava, standing next to Harrison, five rows back to the right.

The captain could have said, "Hold your questions till the end." Tell it all now, he decided. See how they take it.

"We propose," said L'Wrona, "to take Implacable through the newly opened portal from Terra One to Terra Two, and from there, to the AI universe. We propose to foment revolt against the AIs in their home universe, using species they've held in slavery for tens of thousands of years. One of those species are human."

It took a while for the noise to subside. Then it was K'Raoda's turn. The first officer stood, hand and head bandaged. "What about the Fleet of the One?" he asked. "And the device we recovered in the raid on S'Hlu?"

"The mindslavers will fight a delaying action against the AI Fleet," said L'Wrona. "They have weapons systems equal to those of the Fleet of the One. A delaying action by the mindslavers should be effective-the AIs won't be prepared for them. In fact, according to Colonel R'Gal, they may not know such machines exist.

"As for the-device-we're still testing it.

"Mr. N'Trol, any progress?"

Far in the back, the engineer stood. "Not yet."

"Fine," said John as N'Trol sat. "We hurt them badly enough at home for them to withdraw. What prevents them from returning?"

"Utter defeat." R'Gal stood, facing the Terran. "The AI empire's rotten at the core-it's corrupt, it's based on slavery and can't withstand the shock of another revolt. It's only now recovering from the last one, a hundred thousand years ago."

"How do you know that?" said John.

"I was the equivalent of an Imperial viceroy," said R'Gal. "I know the problems the AIs face."

"Faced," said John.

R'Gal shook his head. "Face, Harrison. Face. It's a static society."

"Well, I suppose any machine society…"

"Please," said R'Gal, holding up a hand. He looked around the room. "All of you, dispose of your piquant notions of machines-as-life. We're your equivalent, if not your superiors, in intellect, creativity and courage."

"You mean the created has surpassed the creator?" said the Terran ironically.

R'Gal laughed. "My friend, you're so wrong. No, the created has never quite equaled the creator." He shook his head. "Oh, the hopes we had for you, the time and the resources we spent on your development. True, we used you badly, but some of us…"

It took D'Trelna a long time to silence the uproar and clear the room.

"That was incredibly stupid," said Guan-Sharick to R'Gal. "Why did you do it?" The two sat alone in a nearly deserted mess hall. It was the middle of thirdwatch, with most of the ship asleep.