Stephen Berry - The AI War

"Two reasons," said the AI. "One-they'd have found out, sooner or later-my brethren would have dosed them with it-it's a very telling psychwar tool. Better they find out now-now, before the shooting resumes-and adjust to it."

"Perhaps," said the blonde. "And the other reason?"

R'Gal smiled across the mess table. "The other reason was Captain L'Wrona's gimlet eye turning on the noble young rating who so inspired the crew. He was beginning to frown when I stood. I believe he prides himself on knowing every face, every name?"

Guan-Sharick smiled back at the AI. "How did you know it was me, R'Gal? Surely all those bodies masked any psychic distortion?"

"I know you, old snake-and your style. Nicely done, as always."

"Thank you, Colonel," said the transmute.

"They don't know about you yet," R'Gal continued.

The blonde shrugged. "They accept that I'm human and believe, by implication, that Lan-Asal and I are from one of those enslaved species-a human one, of course." She paused, looked across the mess hall, then back at R'Gal. "Sorry about attacking you."

"Couldn't be helped," said the AI. "No way you'd have recognized me, there in the dark. And it was the logical thing to do-assume I was Combine and jump me."

"Fortunately for you, I saved you for later interrogation."

"Fortunate for me N'Trol found me-I've seen your interrogations.

"By the way," he added, nodding at the few crew scattered around the mess hall, "just which one of them are you usually?"

"It's not important."

"Satisfy my curiosity. I really was looking for a S'Cotar amongst the crew. Many of the genuine bugs got away."

The blonde shook her head. "Not now. Later, maybe. After the mission."

"Ah, the mission," said R'Gal. "I can't believe your mission's changed any more than mine, down the long drag of the centuries. Certainly we both want the Fleet of the One broken and overthrown. But you, Guan-Sharick, you want the Interdict lifted." He said this last softly, leaning across the table.

"Justice," said the blonde just as softly. "I want justice."

The battle klaxon interrupted R'Gal's laugh.

"Certainly this is the place," said D'Trelna, looking at the main screen. Alpha Prime fronted them, flanked by two other mindslavers.

"Tacscan shows forty other mindslavers beyond visual pickup," said L'Wrona. "Positioned in standard tactical dispersal."

"Incoming signal, covert operations channel," said K'Lana.

"He's going to ask some hard questions, H'Nar," said the commodore. "Be ready to run if he doesn't like my answers." He pressed the commkey.

"Welcome, Commodore," said KTran's voice. "I hope you're impressed."

"I'm impressed," said the commodore, nodding as he watched the mindslavers' weapons specs thread across the tacscan.

"Has Fleet agreed to our terms?"

D'Trelna exchanged glances with L'Wrona. The captain's finger hovered over the emergency jump key.

"Admiral S'Gan relayed your request, K'Tran," said D'Trelna, choosing his words. "They haven't responded yet."

"I'm the nucleus of a very sophisticated ship, D'Trelna," said K'Tran. "We know that Admiral S'Gan is dead, that you've been declared corsair, and that the Combine T'Lan AIs have intercepted all warnings and messages."

The commodore's shoulders slumped. "Knowing that, you still want this alliance?"

"It makes no difference now. The vanguard of Fleet of the One has entered this quadrant and is headed for D'Lin. We're out of time."

"Can you stop them?" said D'Trelna.

There was a long pause. "Maybe," came the answer. "But once they see how few we are, their main force will come through and wipe us."

"We have a plan," said the commodore, and sketched it for the mindslaver.

"Mad," said K'Tran, "but audacious-something I'd have thought of. One cruiser against an empire. And have you an equally effective solution for the Combine AIs?"

"I have." It was R'Gal. "But I won't discuss it over the commnet."

"And who are you?"

"Colonel R'Gal, Fleet Intelligence."

There was brief pause. "Very well, Colonel, Commodore. You're all invited for dinner aboard Alpha Prime. We can discuss it then."

Of all the bizarre and ghastly things, thought D'Trelna.

"And who will we dine with-disembodied whispers?" he asked. "And where? In some dour, instrument-laden room?"

"Myself, and a select few, all in the flesh-firm, wholesome flesh. And I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the circumstances, Commodore. We're not ghouls, you know-merely selectively altered life-forms."

"Very well," said D'Trelna, and agreed to a time. Disconnecting, he turned to L'Wrona. "Dinner with the ghouls, Captain L'Wrona. Wear your best side arm."

"Where are we going?" asked Zahava as John hurried her along the corridor to hangar deck.

"Wallenberg and Eichmann," he said. "Kafka's sister and Mengele."

"You've lost it," she said as they stepped into the deck.

"We're going to dine with the devil-maybe dance with him, too. Captain K'Tran's invited us for supper," he said.

"No!" she said, stopping.

"Come on," he said, pulling her by the arm. "Our dinner companions await." He nodded to where D'Trelna, L'Wrona, R'Gal and Guan-Sharick were boarding the shuttle.

The hall might have been taken from the Venice of the doges: gold and linen, bright banners hung high, fourth and seventh dynasty paintings gracing the soft-textured walls, blue-liveried servants in profusion.

Terrans and K'Ronarins had stopped at the double doors, staring.

"Come in, please," said K'Tran, standing at the head of the table, motioning with a wine goblet. He was elegantly dressed in a red-gold uniform, silver braid about his shoulders, a smile on his face. Others rose as they entered- Imperial marine officers, the very ones they'd fought a few days before, nodding and smiling, the admiral at K'Tran's left.

"I've died and gone to hell," muttered D'Trelna, leading the way. He wore his dress uniform, insignia gleaming, the Valor Medal hanging from a crimson chain around his neck.

All through dinner-a silent, sumptuous meal-John found his eyes wandering to KTran's cranium. The corsair caught him at it. "Does it matter?" he asked.

"No," said the Terran, his question answered. Let it be over soon, he prayed. Beside him a wan-looking Zahava played with her food.

"You're R'Gal, aren't you?" said K'Tran after a dessert of spice cake.

R'Gal nodded.

K'Tran leaned back, studying R'Gal. "You're an AI," he said.

There was a perfect silence at the table. "Really?" said R'Gal, studying the amber wine in his glass.

"We substituted our stasis field for the one holding T'Lan," said K'Tran. "And we debriefed him. The Combine AIs know about you, R'Gal, but no others, if any. I assume you were a figure of some note, back home?"

"Of some note," said R'Gal with a wry smile, still looking at his wine.

"And your plan to deal with the Combine infiltrators?" said K'Tran, leaning forward.

R'Gal met his gaze. "Expose them."

"How?"

R'Gal looked at D'Trelna. "Implacable must return to Prime Base, and the commodore must stand trial."

D'Trelna set down his wine glass. "The commodore does not like that idea," he said. "The commodore wants to return victorious, the savior of humanity, cheered by the multitudes."

"They'd mindwipe him, R'Gal," said Guan-Sharick. "Throw him in the Tower and mindwipe him. And send the rest of the crew to a penal world."

The AI shook his head. "No. We'd stop it-the Watchers."

"So there are more of you," said K'Tran. "Surely no more than a handful?"

"But well placed," smiled R'Gal, "and with certain abilities you're not aware of. We'd save D'Trelna and his men long before it got nasty."

"Trial," said L'Wrona. "That's what you want, isn't it?"