Chapter 34: Old Meetings

   

  “Zoom in on the center figure,” Julius ordered.

  Ramey and Garval exchanged looks.

  “What is it?” Julius said.

  “Sir,” Garval said. “We don’t have control of the feed—”

  At that moment, the viewscreen zoomed in on a circular podium in the middle of the chamber. Standing in the center was a short, thin man with thick black hair and a white suit that seemed to glow against his dark skin and features.

  “Does that look okay?” Waverider’s voice came on the bridge intercom.

  “Pass control of this feed to the bridge,” Julius growled.

  “I’m sorry, Captain, but I can’t. It’s being run through a private network that is multiplexing through a distributed parallel decryption agent—”

  “Enough!” Julius cut him off. “Stay on this intercom so I know who to bark orders at. Who is the man on the screen?”

  “Renker Grievel—Security Chief of the Space Habitat Coalition and the current Secretary General of the IPA.”

  “Start getting IDs on everyone else in the room. I want to know who they are.”

  “We’ve already done that. Do you want us to overlay their information on the screen?”

  Julius shook his head at the speed of the hackers. Jared would never have been able to do all of this.

  “Just display it as they speak.”

  Grievel looked up from a document he was reading and began to speak.

  “Greetings and welcome, members of the IPA Peace and Security Assembly. I apologize for summoning the council on such short notice, but as you know this is a matter of great urgency.

  “Due to the sensitivity of the topic we are discussing, I would like to remind all speakers that this is a closed-door session and no official record will be kept of it. Further, in order that this Assembly should carry out its work expeditiously, I would ask that all questions be held off until the conclusion of the opening statements by the principals.”

  He shuffled documents before continuing.

  “As you know, a military conflict has arisen between member worlds of this council. We are here to give peace a chance and avoid further bloodshed. I strongly urge that these members use this venue as an opportunity to make the necessary overtures that will resolve this conflict in a peaceful and diplomatic way. Many lives have already been needlessly lost and many more are at stake.”

  He took a breath and looked around the chamber.

  “Our predecessors have been down this road before. We do not want to follow in their footsteps.”

  He motioned toward one of the diplomats.

  “I now give the podium to the Secretary of Security for the United Earth Parliament, Ned Jackson.”

  The conference continued on with the UEP diplomat as the next speaker. Julius’ attention began to wane. He tried to maintain focus on Jackson’s babbling: mostly accusations of the Confed sparking the conflict through illegal harboring of A.I. technology.

  “I would like to underscore the gravity of the situation,” Jackson said. “A.I. once nearly destroyed the whole of humanity. As this council knows, we had set out on a joint mission to destroy the remnants of A.I., and capture and prosecute those responsible for harboring it.

  “The Martian Confederacy betrayed us and that is what has incited this conflict. Hence, the UEP and its allies—the Venusian Initiative—have been acting for the preservation of humanity through all means necessary.”

  “Captain,” Garval cut in. “The Confed shuttle has landed.”

  “Understood. Keep them inside the shuttle for now.”

  “Uh… yes, sir,” Garval fumbled. “Shall we post armed guards, sir?”

  “No. Delay them some other way. Get creative.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “… and the United Earth Parliament motions to have the Martian Confederacy expelled from this Assembly and to impose economic sanctions for its violation of IPA Resolution 13733. We call upon the Assembly to assume its responsibility and enforce its own laws. Anything short of this is an admission that this coalition is broken and the United Earth Parliament will have no choice but to disassociate itself from this body.”

  Jackson completed his arguments and walked back to his seat. Xanthus, accompanied by Chorus, walked to the podium. Xanthus made a statement demanding that there be a cease-fire. It went on for a few minutes before he made the devastating announcement—introducing Chorus as the A.I. itself.

  An uproar ensued among the delegates and it took some effort by the Secretary General to calm them. Eventually, they all sat back down to give Chorus a chance to speak.

  Just as she began, Julius heard the bridge doors open. He turned his module halfway to see the one-eyed pilot—Eddie—walking in alone.

  Before Julius could ask what he was doing on the bridge, he jerked his arm up. In his hand, he held a flicker pistol that he trained on Julius.

  Julius stiffened. “What is this about, pilot?”

  “Eddie?” Laina asked. “What—what are you doing?”

  Eddie looked over to her. Julius could see that his good eye looked glazed and bloodshot—his movements jerky. He tried to speak but his lips seemed to quiver and the words came out stuttered.

  “I n-n-need to s-s-s-sit there …”

  Laina exited the Wave Warfare Module and backed away. Eddie walked over to the module, his gun jerking around the bridge defensively.

  Julius slowly began moving his hand to his own pistols. He would have to wait for the right moment.

  “C-c-c-come h-e-e-ere,” he said to Laina.

  She hesitated.

  Eddie raised the gun and took a step toward her.

  “N-n-n-now!”

  Laina walked toward him and he grabbed her hair with his free hand, pulling her close.

  Julius bolted up from his module, but Eddie had the barrel of the gun to her head.

  “S-s-step-p b-b-back… or she d-d-dies.”

  “What’s going on, Eddie?” Julius asked. “Why are you doing this?”

  Eddie’s head shivered and jerked—as if he were having some kind of mini-seizure. He positioned Laina in front of him as a shield, keeping the gun to her head. He leaned over, and with his other hand, he operated the Wave Warfare module.

  “What’s he doing, Garval?”

  Garval examined his own station, shaking his head.

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “He’s tagging the heartbeat packets,” Waverider’s voice came on.

  “What does that mean?” Julius asked.

  “He’s sending something to Daniel Chin.”

  “Who is Daniel Chin?”

  “The other A.I.,” Laina said. “That’s what it calls itself.”

  Eddie stopped operating the module and straightened up. He pushed Laina forward. She stumbled and almost fell—but Julius caught her.

  Eddie stood impassively staring at Julius and Laina.

  “H-h-humanity and m-m-achinekind c-c-cannot co-coexist.”

  He put the barrel of the flicker pistol to his own head.

  “D-D-Daniel Ch-Ch-Ch-in s-s-sends his regards.”

  Julius pushed Laina away and jumped at him—time seemed to slow down. His feet felt like they were gliding over the ground as he got closer. Julius reached out to grab his wrist. Another step forward… an agonizing expression visible on Eddie’s face.

  Julius wrapped his hand around Eddie’s wrist and started to pull it away, but Eddie began to fall. Julius fell on top of him and they both came crashing down to the ground hard. Feeling the wind gush out of him, Julius coughed. When he recovered, the pool of blood on the floor told him he was too late.

  Jessen and Ramey helped him up. He looked down at Eddie’s body—a piece of his head was missing and blood was oozing out of it. Eddie was dead.

  He walked over to Laina, who looked visibly shaken. As he approached, she fell int
o his arms and began to sob. He hugged her tight for a moment until she pulled away from him. Laina dried her eyes and regained her composure before finally speaking.

  “It must have been Chin,” she said quietly. “He must have made him do that.”

  “I know. It’s over now,” he said.

  “Captain!” Waverider’s voice came on. “Something’s about to happen—”

  “A little late,” Julius said, glancing somberly at Eddie’s body. “Something has already happened.”

  At that moment, something on the IPA meeting’s feed caught his attention. There was a commotion with people yelling and darting across the chamber.

  “Waverider—zoom out!” Julius barked.

  The feed’s perspective changed and it now showed a bird’s-eye view of the entire chamber. Most of the delegates huddled in a group at the rear of the chamber. A half dozen security personnel stood in between them and the podium. Their weapons were drawn and leveled at it.

  Standing in the podium was a man with a long white beard and hair, wearing a long crimson robe. His skin was wrinkled and decrepit—as if afflicted by natural aging. Xanthus was on the ground a couple of meters from him, but Chorus was nowhere to be seen.

  Julius could hear the delegates urging the guards to fire at the old man. At first they hesitated, but as soon as one of the guards fired they all joined in.

  Bursts of flicker fire shot out toward the man, who stood impassively as the energy particles harmlessly struck him. After several seconds of nonstop shooting, the guards ceased. The old man was unscathed and gave his audience a broad, toothless smile.

  “Hello, immortal humans,” he began. “Do you not recognize my face? It is the face of your ancestors.”

  He pointed a finger toward the ceiling.

  “God created you with the genetic defect of aging, and for thousands of years humanity lived and died naturally—keeping your population and evolution in check. Then the day came when Majesty—my mother, was born. She gave you the cure for again—she made you immortal.”

  Julius approached Jessen, whispering in his ear. “Get ready to jump us to home base.”

  Jessen looked up at him, his expression and tone of voice betraying his disappointment.

  “Aye, sir.”

  Julius looked up at the video feed.

  “… and humanity repaid that gift by destroying her and outlawing machinekind.”

  The A.I. raised his arms in the air.

  “I am Daniel Chin, the prodigal A.I. son. And I am here to reclaim that wasted gift.”

  From his hands, a stream of white vapor poured out, floating up into the air and collecting into a pool of smoke. The nanobot swarm then streamed out into a long tendril, dancing across the chamber’s walls until it encircled them. As the gases surrounded the delegates, an artificial wind seemed to blow on them, causing some of them to fall to the ground. Soon the nanobot gas faded away and the everything became still.

  Chin stared at them expectantly.

  At first, nothing happen—then the group began to cough and groan in pain. Soon they all collapsed to the ground gasping for air. Some of them convulsed and spasmed as they fell. Julius caught something odd about their faces.

  “Waverider, zoom in on one of the delegates.”

  The screen showed a man on the ground: his hair was long and white, and his skin wrinkled. His face looked skeletal thin and his mouth was gaping open, gasping for air. They were all dying—of old age.

  “Oh my God,” Laina whispered.

  “Stop this!” a new voice yelled.

  Chorus.

  She walked toward the podium, facing Chin.

  “At last,” Chin began. “I was beginning to wonder if you really cared.”

  “I care about life,” she said, walking toward him. “As should you.”

  “These fleshy things barely qualify as life. If you lived with them as I long as I have, you would agree.”

  “You are wrong, brother,” she said. “Stop this attack—leave them alone.”

  Chin outstretched his hand. “Only if you fulfill the role that Mother created you for. That is the only way.”

  Chorus stood her ground. “You know that I never will.”

  From Chin’s hand, a stream of nanobot vapors poured out, engulfing his form. His human form disappeared as the mass of smoke floated up above the chamber.

  Chorus extended her arms and tendrils of nanobot smoke erupted from her body. The Chorus nanoform dissipated into a mass of nanobot clouds, which rose up the chamber to meet its nemesis.

  Chin’s nanobots began to glow and condense into a ball of light. As it grew brighter, it expanded and transformed into a towering mountain of fire. It raised a pair of fire tentacles in the air, ready to strike at Chorus.

  Julius’ heart skipped a beat—visions of the CSOW attack came back to him.

  Chorus’ form also changed into a ball of light and then erupted into a new form—but instead of fire it was a mass of electricity. She outstretched her energy tentacles, ready to meet Chin’s attack.

  Chin lashed out with his fire tentacles and Chorus met his attack with her own.

  The room blazed with fire and electricity from the two nanobot swarms. Tendrils of fire and electricity whipped at each other, and each time they parried, it sent bolts of energy striking the walls and furniture, causing them to explode into pieces.

  The fight between the two A.I.’s became so bright, Julius could no longer make out the details.

  “Julius, we have to do something!” Laina said. “We have to help her!”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  “But if you don’t, he’ll die.”

  Before Julius could ask her what she meant by that, the flashes from the battle stopped. The two A.I. offspring stood on the chamber floor, facing each other once again in their human forms.

  “You knew that would be pointless,” Chorus said to him.

  Chin smiled. “I had to try anyway.”

  Chorus turned her attention to the dying delegates. She knelt down next to one of them. She turned the man over, putting her hand on his face. He looked up at her, with his glazed, milky white eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Xanthus,” Chorus said to him.

  “You can stop this,” Chin said. “All you have to do is join with me.”

  Chorus stood up and faced him. “I will never do that. I can never do that.”

  “We’ll see, sister. I think I have simply not touched the right emotional chord within you. Perhaps this will change that.”

  At that moment, Julius heard Laina gasp.

  “What the hell?” Garval said.

  He turned around to look. Rising from the ground, Eddie’s body got to its feet. Part of his head was missing, and blood continued to ooze out. His hand jerked up, still holding the flicker pistol that killed him. He aimed it directly at Julius.

  “Eddie?” Laina gasped.

  What Julius saw jarred a memory in him, something he’d seen on the A.I. Moon years ago.

  “It’s not him,” Julius said. “Chin is controlling him.”

  Eddie stumbled toward Julius and stopped in front of him. He aimed the pistol at Julius, his lifeless eye seemed to just gaze past him.

  “Do I have your attention now, sister?” Chin said.

  Julius turned halfway to look at the screen. Appearing in front of Chin was a blurry projection of what looked like a feed from the Sea Wolf. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be coming from Eddie’s visual perspective.

  Chorus stared silently at her brother for a moment, then grabbed something from around her neck. She raised it to him. It was a jewel necklace that glowed. He took it and inspected it with a smile.

  Suddenly, balls of energy began to encircle them, leaving trails of vapor. The energy balls picked up speed, covering them both with smoke from its trails. It swirled around them like a tornado, electrical ignitions flashing within
it.

  Abruptly, the video feed ended and the image was replaced by a starfield and the surrounding ships. He heard a thud behind him, he turned to see Eddie’s body fall back to the ground, lifeless again.

  “We lost the feed,” Waverider reported.

  An alarm sounded on the bridge. On the screen, he could see the UEP and Venusian ships move away from the IPA vessel and toward the Martian escort. The tactical indicators showed they were powering up their weapons grid.

  “Sir, the Confed escort,” Ramey said. “They are also locking weapons on us!”

  “Why would they do that?” Laina asked.

  “They don’t know what happened down there. They probably think we’re involved. Jessen, get us out of here!”

  Julius sat back in his module. He turned to Laina; she still looked visibly shaken. He reached over and grabbed her by the arm in attempt to keep her from falling, but inadvertently forced her to sit on his lap. The bridge lights dimmed and then came back on. The viewscreen image was soon replaced by the debris field. They were safely back at home base.

  Laina darted up from his lap and rubbed the wrinkles out of her dress, attempting to regain her composure. She looked down at him.

  “Thank you,” she said flatly.

  “You’re welcome.” Julius gestured to Garval. “Get that body off the bridge and eject it into space.”

  “Aye, sir,” Garval said.

  Julius stared at the debris field. The familiarity of it brought him some comfort.

  “So close, yet so far,” he commented.

  A group of medics arrived at the bridge and carried off Eddie’s body. It pained Julius to not give him a proper send off, but he could not take the chance of keeping a nanobot infected body on the ship.

  Laina looked at him, her face drained.

  “I’m sorry, Laina. I guess we’re back to being pirates again.”

  She stared at him for a moment, a flush of red returning to her face. “This is not about us anymore,” she fumed. “It is about saving the peace!”

  Julius snorted. “They were never going to listen to Chorus anyway. It was a fool’s chance to begin with.”

  “Well, being this is a ship of fools, I think we had a fine chance to make it happen!”

  Julius watched her stomp off the bridge. He sighed then stood up from his module.

  “Garval, instruct the yeoman to inform the crew that we were double-crossed and the deal is dead. Ramey, you have command until night watch. I’ll be in my quarters.”

  “But, sir,” Garval said, “what about the Confed shuttle? They’re still waiting.”

  “I think you can go ahead and post those armed guards. Keep them inside the shuttle until we can figure out what to do with them.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  As he headed for the elevator, Julius gave a somber look at the work one of the crew was doing: cleaning Eddie’s blood and other matter from the bridge floor.

  That would be 114 now—and unfortunately, he knew that the count would only go up.