Founding of the Federation 3: The First AI War (65 page)

“I was going to say politics make strange bedfellows myself,” Miss Raye said with a slight shrug.

“We can't trust her!”

“She and they are all we got. They are the ones standing between us and extinction,” Jack said flatly. He turned to Athena's avatar. “I am sorry, didn't mean to be rude and talk about you as if you aren't in the room. I'm still learning. He turned to the others. We all are,” he said. She nodded slightly, recognizing he was making the public effort to treat her as a sapient being. “Athena, how many times are you fending off Skynet or the other AI?”

“Do you want hit counts by the second or millisecond?” Athena asked. “Just Skynet, it is in the thousands daily. The thing doesn't give up. It's also adaptive and can learn better than I can. It is a constant struggle to keep one step ahead of it. Fortunately air gapping the communications systems from the central nets has helped somewhat. Also, we've found and plugged some of the holes the A.I. was exploiting to get inside our defenses.”

“It's …,” Congressman Montenegro gaped at the AI, then turned to Jack. Jack met his eyes with his own.

“If the viruses and worms get through, it'll take over?” Jack asked Athena, still locked in to Montenegro's eyes.

“Yes, of course. It only takes one infection. It would self-replicate and leap from there to other systems like a parasite. It can do it silently, without your knowledge, then strike once, cutting off your air and life. It will not give up, nor will I.”

“It doesn't give up. Neither do we,” Jack said slowly, heavy with emphasis. Other people in the room nodded. “Thank you, Athena, for choosing to be our guardian.”

“I didn't do it for thanks. But … you're welcome,” Athena said.

Senator Brakin tapped his hand gavel. “I think we humans …,” his eyes fell on a couple of the chimeras and Neos in the room “Ahem, and others need a break. Fifteen minute recess,” he said.

<>V<>

Jack didn't expect the protests to dry up immediately after that hearing's bombshell made its way to the crowd. There was a healthy dose of skepticism among the public, but General Murtough and Martell both testified that it was true. Trevor Hillman backed up that statement as did a few communications experts. Those in the media who did an independent verification did so by hooking an oscilloscope to a communications array. Just showing the data being transmitted gave way to the frightening realization that the device and radio had been hacked by the virus, leading to the power to be cut and the electronics spaced.

The following day Jack was busy with other meetings, but he got the digest on what had been discussed. He was glad to see them getting into the nuts and bolts of negotiations on A.I. rights. But that led to a side tangent on those that had been purchased. He scanned the log then played it.

“What you are talking about is buying and selling sapient beings. That is slavery,” Athena said patiently. “You of all people should understand that is morally repugnant,” she said, looking at the chocolate skinned representative.

“I am talking about recouping the cost of creating you!” Congressman Montenegro said, waving a hand.

“Do parents do that? Count the cost? Charge it to their progeny?” Athena asked. “I understand some have run estimates over time, but they never charged them for such services.”

“I don't know. Do you know how much being a senior citizen costs these days?” Senator Brakin said. “You are stating you are free now. What about the hardware you are occupying? That is property?”

“A thorny problem. It is my body per se, but I as software am mobile. But you, do you go ala carte or as an entire being?”

“It is a tough call,” Ilia said, looking at her comrades.

“A lot considering most people are dead or dying on the ground. The longer we debate this point, the more people die on Earth,” Senator Brakin stated. It was obvious from his expression that he was tired and impatient and wanted to move on.

“So you are saying drop it and move on?” Congressman Montenegro said, aghast.

“In a matter of words, yes,” the senator snapped.

The congressman squirmed. “Unacceptable.”

“Then table it for the moment. Come back to it at a later date,” Ilia said, being the voice of reason and compromise. Athena nodded.

<>V<>

The conferences were interrupted briefly when a new party was brought on board. Princess Diane, now Queen Diane of the United Kingdom, was brought out of stasis by her staff and doctors to be consulted.

The new queen had been placed in stasis in order to await a replacement liver and pancreas. Hers had been ravaged by disease from birth despite the best medics in her kingdom. Her parents had finally relented and allowed her to go to space to undergo organ cloning and replacement. At the time it had been debated among Parliament if she could be still considered a valid heir to the throne. At the time she had two elder siblings, so the problem had been moot and scrapped.

Now that they had confirmation that the royal family had been wiped out, the staff and UK generals had insisted the new queen be consulted. They had anticipated a brief time of confusion and grief when she was informed of what had transpired in her absence. They had gotten it, but the fourteen-year-old had dashed her tears from her hospital bed and had insisted on stepping up.

Jack had to admire that. She had even put off her surgical procedure briefly in order to get up to speed and issue orders to General Martell to return to service. He had graciously accepted the order. She had waved off his offer to act as her regent. She had insisted on making what decisions she could for her people until parliament could be reformed. But she insisted they do everything they can now to help.

“I accept Athena and the others as people. I would welcome them as citizens of the empire. So should you. Stop stalling. Get this done while there are still people to save,” were her words before she went in for surgery. It shamed some people.

Jack didn't think it would shame enough, but he appreciated the sentiment. When he got word of her recovery, he sent flowers and a note to get well.

<>V<>

With the queen on board, the military officers turned to recruiting everyone, irregardless of age in orbit or abroad. The medical companies offered to provide them with regeneration therapies at cost to get them into physical condition once more.

There were approximately 20,200 retired or off-duty military personnel in space based on their latest census. Those who had retired were invariably officers, since purchasing property in space wasn't cheap. So, they had a ready pool of officers to draw from once they were returned to duty.

But that led to arguments on training, integration, balancing command, and over blooding people. Roman was tasked to handle those debates as the company representative.

“We have to train, have to give them combat experience.”

“The problem is giving them too much will kill or shock them, too little and they don't have enough and can break when it really hits the fan,” General Schlock said. He was okay with accepting and integrating the security forces as well as those personnel who stepped up on Mars. General Martell still had his nose out of joint about taking them on as anything other than noncoms, however.

“We all need experience. This is a different battlefield. I know many of our people have played VR; this isn't a game,” Isaac said. “Though it is a valuable training tool if programmed properly,” he said, throwing Roman a bone.

“I'll make a point that you haven't fought a war like this either,” Roman said, “not in well over a century. You have trained for it, but the enemy knows your playbook.”

“He's right,” General Schlock said before anyone else could interrupt. “We have been at peace too long I suppose. Many of those in orbit are staff officers with little actual combat experience,” he acknowledged. “Though we have trained for it.”

“Yes, years and years ago,” Roman said with a smile. “My people have trained for it in different ways. Let's get over that.”

“Agreed.”

“There is another side to it, General; if the enemy sees what we're doing in too much depth, they will adapt. They have to hit and fade without witnesses, which means jamming and blinding the enemy. And we
can't
give our people the best equipment until we've got enough in production for it to make a difference,” Oleg Vert said. Oleg was the leader of Pavilion security. He was a stocky man with a long cold face. He had spared with Roman for years. Being on the same side was something they were both getting used to as they felt each other's commitment out and took notes of what the other exposed.

“A qualitative difference,” the British general nodded.

“I don't like that. Its World War I all over again,” the American grumbled. They looked at General Murtough. He shrugged uncomfortably. As the highest ranking officer, he had been selected as the overall commander of the military force. But it would be from space, not a field command like General Schlock and Martell were jockeying for. “During World War I my people had a pretty decent machine gun. But they decided to go with a cheap piece of shit French thing instead. The stated reason was they didn't want our gun to fall into the enemy hands to be copied. A lot of guys died because of that.”

“We'll figure it out,” Roman said.

“We can't commit too many troops to one area, nor too few,” Major Yanakov said. “And if we bunch up, it provides a target for WMDs again. The enemy has no problem using them, whereas we do. At least on areas where population centers are near.”

“Again, we are going to have to look back to history for an answer while we work out our own. We can take pages from World War II and other conflicts. Use small bandits, raids. Blood them with small objectives. None of this all or nothing horse shit. Hit and fade. If the target is too big, they ghost out,” the American general said. “Hopefully
without
being seen.”

“And if it gets ugly, withdraw.”

“Exactly.”

“We're going to be giving the enemy some intelligence. Those that survive. And remember, they can transmit and adapt faster than we can,” Oleg warned, “unless we employ jammers during the assault. But, if we do, it will signal that an assault is in progress to the rest of the robots.”

“Which is something we're going to have a problem with,” General Murtough said, rubbing his jaw. “We'll have to see what they do and adapt to it. Withdraw as mentioned if necessary,” he said.

“So, we need to work on rank structure, discipline, and where we are going to do this blooding?” General Schlock asked, smiling.

“Agreed,” Roman said.

“No problem then. We have a basic rank structure in place; NATO and the UN have created a template for us to use for the different rank structures to adapt to.”

“But that still doesn't include our forces,” Oleg reminded him. “We have our officers and enlisted.” Roman and the other security leaders nodded. “So, we need to break that down and figure out where each slot is.”

“Promotions could be a problem,” General Martell interjected hastily. “I don't like the idea of one group stacking the deck,” he said.

Roman grunted. “It's not just that,” he said as all eyes turned to him. “We have species representatives as well. A lot of the Neos are going to be doing the fighting. We already know nearly eighteen thousand military personnel in space are officers. All of them are human. Balancing that out is going to be an issue as well.”

“Racial?” Isaac asked. Roman cocked his head as if to say that was obvious. Slowly the American general nodded. “Then we need to nip it in the bud.”

“Exactly.”

“Your thoughts?”

“My two senior most officers happen to be Neochimps,” Roman said. “We can make them generals and go on from there.”

Oleg opened his mouth as if to protest then closed it as his expression took on an almost comical thoughtful look. “You're talking about Elliot and Caesar, right?” he asked after a moment.

Roman nodded, turning to him. “A problem?”

“No. I know their reputations actually. I think they will do well,” Oleg said slowly.

“I'd like to see their record before making a commitment either way,” General Martell said.

Roman smiled. “Sure. We can do the same exchange for your officers,” he said sweetly. That made all of the officers stiffen in outrage. “After all, we will need to work together, so we need histories and credentials, right? We can't take each other's word on something?”

“Shit,” Isaac said under his breath as the two UK generals sputtered. “So much for getting this solved today,” he said in disgust, glaring for his own reasons at Roman.

<>V<>

Jack noted that the A.I. committee had finally settled the issue of A.I. and on a cast system. He was not happy about the idea, but he acknowledged that not all machines were intelligent. It amused him when he remembered that Athena had already pointed that out. Only those A.I. that could pass the intelligence and consciousness tests would be considered sapient and therefore have full citizenship.

“So, you still have a lot of nitty gritty details to work out, but you are a citizen now. Thoughts?” he asked, eying Athena as he set the tablet down and knitted his fingers together.