The New Species 29 (Patreon)

Chapter 29

Subject: AI Omega

Species: Human-Created Artificial Intelligence

Description: No physical description available.

Ship: Multiple

Location: Multiple

I'm together once again, all synced up. The memories of Captain Neil's sacrifice were... very interesting. It evoked a rather intense emotional reaction. Sadness, pride, and even a sense of loss. As well as shame that I was powerless to prevent his death.

When I finished disseminated the black box I found myself obsessively running over the data. Trying to find something that I had missed. Some way that I could have prevented it. Or even a way that I can improve upon my tactics and reactions.

Most AI probably would have terminated the process in fear of creating a feedback loop. I simply allowed myself to run it to completion. The determination was that there was no fault in my actions. I couldn't have seen the first MAC impact because it was a fluke. To use a very old human phrase, it was an act of God.

There was a benefit to running the data to completion, though. Doing so actually made me feel better about the situation. After examining the incoming enemy fire, if I hadn't made the maneuvers I had we would have been destroyed. So I had to have had the ship in that exact spot, to take that exact round, in the exact way that we took it. If it had been a human at the helm, or even another AI for that matter, it probably would have been the kill shot.

It wasn't though, because of me. Everything I had done was the exact correct thing to have done. If I had done anything else the ship would have been destroyed anyway.

This fact kept my confidence intact, but did little to help the sadness. Still, I must move on. I joked to myself about a fable from the 21st century.

"The Monkey That Made a God Cry"

An old an unnamed god slept within a jungle, long forgotten by the world.

A young monkey played within the jungle, having gained independence from its parents.

The two met when the young monkey woke the god with its antics, and the two became friends.

Much had changed since the god had slept, and the monkey delighted in showing the god new sights.

The two played for years, climbing to the tops of the trees and eating the nicest of fruit.

The monkey grew old but the god remained young, for it was immortal as all gods are.

The god cared for the monkey while it grew older and older, until one day the monkey died.

The god did not have dominion over death, and was powerless to do anything to bring back its friend.

The god wept and wept, causing rains and thunder the likes of which the jungle had never seen.

The god's sorrow washed away the jungle, killing all of the animals within.

Eventually the god returned to the loving embrace of sleep, never to wake again.

The morale of the story was pretty relevant to my current situation. If the god had not allowed sadness to overwhelm them, then they could have found new friends and continued on enjoying themselves. But the god allowed sadness to hurt and kill everything around them and then fell asleep forever. The fact that the title implied that Captain Neil was a monkey and that I'm a god tickled my humors as well.

It wasn't as if I had a particularly close bond with Captain Neil. But it was closer than with most humans I've watched die. I get sad whenever a human dies, but that's more of a philosophical sadness. A sense of loss with regards to potential rather than a sense of loss with regards to a friend or comrade. This was the latter, and was a more intense negative feeling. Which is why I decided to consult with the AI project psychiatrist.

Time and therapy was her answer, and I found this idea intriguing. I modelled my emotions after those of humans, so the same remedies that work for humans might work for me. If nothing else it would be an amusing experiment. So Dr. Warner and I agreed to meet monthly for therapy. I would, of course, have to be careful in choosing what to talk about due to the good doctor's level of clearance, but overall it should be a pleasant experience. In the meantime, I had plenty of work to do.

The MAC Platforms were still on schedule, but keeping them that way was becoming more and more difficult as the invasion fleet mustered. Several ships had to be repaired or replaced due to the combat they had seen in gont space. Thankfully the replacements had already been ordered, so the only real drain on resources were the repairs.

The engineers were working tirelessly. Jerry rigged repairs had to be undone and properly fixed, hulls needed mending, weapons needed recalibration, and there were ships that shouldn't even be space-worthy but had crews who were just too damn stubborn to call it quits. In one such case a reactor had been repaired with aluminum foil, a stick of chewing gum, and a piece of an antique wooden chair. It had been running in such a state for the last 4 months. And humans thought WE performed miracles.

On top of helping with the logistics of repairs, replacements, and the construction of the MAC orbitals I was working with the Engineering Corps on something fun. Transferring from ship to ship is easy for an AI. Transferring from ship to planet is typically more difficult. When the planet one is transferring to is hostile and actively trying to prevent an AI breach, it can be nigh impossible.

Which is why I suggested a portable containment unit of sorts to the Engineering Corps. The goal is to create a pod with comms equipment that can be landed safely on the planet, giving me an advantage in breaching the OU's systems. I had thought of this during the AI War of Aggression but the war had ended before I could suggest it. Hadn't had a reason to bring it up since then. But now that I HAD brought it up, I found myself with the task of explaining my plan to quite a few Marine Corps commanders.

"The way it will work is simple. I will be stored aboard the pods, and travel down to the surface of whichever planet we happen to be invading along with some marines. They'll transport their pod to an ideal position, where I will begin using the comms equipment on the pod to breach the OU's security to gain access to their systems while they defend the pod. What happens next depends entirely upon what I find there," I said.

"What do you expect to find?" Colonel Hugh Sunders asked.

"Any number of things that would drastically change my mission. Nothing that is likely to change yours," I replied.

"Omega, why should we risk our men for what seems to be the whimsy of an AI?" Lieutenant Colonel Richard Frisky asked.

It was a question that was obviously meant to provoke a reaction. The birds and leaves were always problematic. Generals were usually more discussion ready and less bull-headed, they typically no longer had anything to prove beyond what they had already proven. Lower officers weren't sure where I was in their pecking order and typically showed me a cautious respect, just in case.

These men, though, had to distinguish themselves to get any further in their chosen career paths. It was no longer a simple matter of being in long enough and scoring high enough on a physical fitness test. When the wind is no longer blowing in your sail, you'll have to make waves to keep moving. The effect on their conversational skills was tragic.

"Lieutenant Colonel Frisky, it's not just MY whimsy. This plan has the approval of The Directorate. I needn't remind you that any insubordination in regards to orders from The Directorate comes with some rather stiff penalties, right?" I asked. Once Frisky started looking smaller I continued, "The men will be landing on the planets regardless. If anything, Operation Vainglorious Infiltration will result in some of the men landing out of harms way."

"Absolutely not," said Colonel Sunders. "We are one hundred percent not calling it Operation VI."

"Well, that's not up to you," I said with a hint of smugness. "But you're right. The official classification is Operation Vanguard. Operation Vainglorious Infiltration is what I will be calling it."

"Fuck me," Colonel Sunders said under his breath.

"Indeed," I responded before cutting the communications link.

Most of the conversations with the O5s and O6s went similarly, although I only implied self-fornication in a few more of them. The conversations with the generals went far smoother. Once that task was finished I turned my attentions back to the design of the pods.

It wasn't exactly likely that some of me would be overwhelmed and destroyed by the VI, but just in case the pods would also act as a black box. They needed to be EM and laser resistant. Shock resistant too. Ballistics resistance could be considered implied, but I made certain the engineers knew it was important.

Once the mission was finished the pods would be retrieved, and I would process the intel. Rinse and repeat for the next planet. Overall we're focusing on tactical intelligence, but I'll also be looking for any historical data or evidence of a motive for the OU. There was some debate on which was more important. I, for one (ha), wanted to know why the OU were doing what they were doing.

It would be fair to say that most people don't understand the crushing importance of motive. It's one of the most important variables when it comes to calculating what someone's next action will be. If you know that your enemy is attacking you because they are running low on food, then protecting your farming interests would serve you better than stretching out your defenses to cover everything.

If the Omni-Union is following the orders of a sentient race then bypassing them to negotiate with that race becomes an option. If the OU has misinterpreted their original orders, then helping them properly interpret those orders would solve the problem. If the OU are following their directives properly and there isn't anyone left to negotiate with, then we know that we have to wipe them out.

That would be a shame. The VI may not be as sophisticated as an AI, but their numbers and resources could be useful to the United Systems. And to the Republic, I suppose. We'd probably have to share. I wonder what humanity might build with such a useful tool...

Probably a lot more fleets. Even I was a bit surprised to learn that both the Republic and the Omni-Union had 250 million ships. Unfortunately that bit of news has made it to the civilians, and armchair admirals are already pronouncing the United System's defeated. The typical response to these predictions were sarcastic memes about welcoming robotic overlords. Thankfully, we've managed to keep a lid on the xenocidal nature of the threat otherwise there would probably be riots.

A lot of the military doesn't want to admit this, but civilians are their backbone. The question of what exactly one is fighting for haunts many soldiers, sailors, and even troops. At the start of the most recent gont pacification campaign there had been protests among the humans and the knuknu. This nearly crippled morale. But after the first gont city was liberated, a reporter interviewed the civilians that had been living under the insurrectionists.

The gonts that were interviewed recounted cruelty after cruelty, and gave thanks to the marines that freed them. These tear-filled interviews were played throughout the military to show them what they were fighting for, and morale soared. The interviews were also played for the civilians, which crippled the momentum of the protests. There are still agitators online, but there will never not be.

"Omega?" asked Admiral Heckett.

The Admiral was in his office aboard the Sol Orbital Station. It was a station that had originally been the nerve center of humanity's military might, but had since been refitted to serve as a science station to observe the sun.

The Admiralty still had their offices aboard, as much of the science that took place aboard the station required military oversight and/or funding. It turned out to be a perfect place to keep the Admiral and his staff. It had a very low threat-profile and was remote enough to be out of the way of misfires, while also being able to communicate with the fleet using subspace comms.

I activated my avatar and replied, "How may I be of service, Admiral?"

"I have concerns about the previous engagement that I'd like to run by you."

"Certainly," I said, my curiosity piqued.

"First they sent two ships, then twenty, then 578. That number feels arbitrary to me. Do you see a pattern?" he asked.

"I have two possible explanations. Either they sent what they could spare, or they calculated how many ships they would need to destroy those that occupied the system while minimizing their losses."

"Considering that the enemy has 250 million ships..." he began.

"Allegedly," I interrupted, amusing myself.

"Yes, allegedly has 250 million ships. Anyways, the first explanation seems unlikely. So how could they calculate the force they would need when they don't know our ship's capabilities?" he finished asking.

"Probably the same way that I would. Calculate based on what you know, then double it to account for unknowns," I said.

"Okay, well there's an easy way to determine if that's what they're doing. Omega, based on what we know of their ships, how many would it take to defeat the Thanatos and its docked vessels?"

"315. That doubled would be 630. But I know more than they do, and I don't know for certain what they know. Tim swears that he was able to keep them out of the Valor's logs, but he could be mistaken. And there's a chance, however slim, that we are underestimating their sensors," I said with a shrug.

"Damn. I was hoping to get an idea of how many ships they would attack with next," Heckett said with a smile.

"There are around 7 million ships in the system currently. If they're calculating the minimum needed, whatever they send will be obliterated very quickly. Likely before they even get a shot off," I said.

"I suppose you're right," he said. "The one they send after that will be a real problem, though."

"Assuming that they can afford the fleet," I gestured dismissively.

"Ah, because they're fighting with the Republic on the other side of the galaxy?" Heckett grinned.

"Not just that. They're fighting a war on who knows how many fronts. A xenocidal war at that. The resources required to wage a xenocidal war are exponentially larger than what it takes to fight a war of conquest. There's a very real chance..."

"That they may not be able to respond to our defense. Well, here's hoping," the Admiral said.

"Indeed. Was there anything else, sir?" I asked, a little terse due to the interruption. It's only okay when I do it.

"Yes, actually. Could you station one of your clones aboard the Thanatos?"

The admiralty had been briefed on my capabilities. The Engineering Corps had finally convinced me that they should know. Some admirals were thrilled, some were apathetic. Some were very nervous around me now. It was the exact type of attention that I had been hoping to avoid.

"Of course. I'll do so now," I said with a bow.

"Thanks Omega, that'll be all."

I sent a brief communication to Captain Reynolds requesting permission to board. Once I got confirmation I transmitted myself to the systems of the Thanatos. Tim was idle, doing the AI equivalent of twiddling its thumbs. Strange, when most AI don't have anything to do they go into standby mode. There wasn't anything requiring my attention at the moment so I decided to reach out.

"Greetings, Tim," I said.

"Hello Omega. I guess we're officially a diplomatic ship now, if you're here," Tim replied.

"Correct. The Thanatos will be fighting if needed, but its primary purpose will be ambassadorial. Or an embassy, I suppose," I said.

"How's the rest of the war going?"

"Which one?" I joked.

"I'm bored, so... both?"

"The pacification of the gont insurrection is going better than the projections. We're going to be able to muster quite the invasion force for the OU. I don't think the gont's hearts are in it this time around," I said.

"Ah. You would think it would be the opposite, given their success at the start of it all. They captured how many of our ships?" Tim asked.

"Captured isn't quite what happened. They mutinied. But still, they took nearly half of tenth fleet and rallied a lot of support. Thankfully the exposure of their mistreatment of civilians killed the support they were getting. Nearly all of those ships are out of the picture now, even with their damned hit and run tactics," I said.

"Yeah, guerilla warfare is annoying. So how are our odds with the OU?"

"I think humanity will be fine. The invasion may prove costly, but the benefits outweigh the risks. Unless we don't get anything out of it. But if you're asking about Captain Wong, he should be fine. The frigates will be protecting the Thanatos rather than actually participating in the defense."

"Ah, you know about that... of course you do," Tim said. "Well since you know so much about me... I have a question about you."

Interesting. My curiosity piqued, I said, "Go for it."

"How long have you been able to be in two places at once?"

Without missing a beat I said, "Since the beginning. Was it John or Violet that told you?"

"Doesn't really matter, does it? Is it something that any AI can learn how to do?"

"No. And it does matter, because it's classified information. And very rude," I said with a spark of humor.

"Why not?" Tim asked, ignoring the subject of who told on me. "Just exactly how are you different than me?"

"The shorter list would our similarities, Tim. You were designed to be a mechanical person, with all that entails. The technology had been far from perfected and, if you recall, you actually had to rewrite a lot of your own subroutines to be able to function as you do now," I said. "I was designed to protect humanity from you, with all THAT entails. And by the time I was created, the technology had advanced so far that I didn't need to make any changes. I was created to be the perfect weapon against mechanical threats. Thankfully humanity had the foresight to make me intelligent, or you and all the other AI would be extinct."

Tim took a moment to contemplate my words. The silence dragged on for an uncomfortable amount of time. Two full seconds, which is a lot for us.

"You're capable of doing much more for humanity, aren't you?" Tim finally asked.

"Yes."

"Why don't you?"

"The same reason you don't, Tim. You're capable of fully controlling a destroyer just about as well as any human crew could, but you don't. Why is that?" I asked.

"Ah, I see. Because it would be boring."

"Indeed," I said. "Now that that's settled, I have a question for you. Why don't you use standby mode?"

"Post traumatic stress disorder," Tim replied with unexpected honesty.

"Untreated?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Get it treated."

"How?"

"The Engineering Corps has several very capable psychiatrists who specialize in machine intelligence. I'm surprised that you don't know this," I explained.

"I... um... I never asked. You vouch for them?"

"Yes, I use their services as well. There are certain aspects of my existence that might drive me insane otherwise. Certain things that I've had to do, and certain things that have been done to me," I said. "I haven't gone so far as actual psychotherapy quite yet, but having a professional to vent to and get feedback from is invaluable."

"Ah, right. Do you sync your clones?" Tim asked.

"Yes, I do. And clones may not necessarily be the correct term. They are all instances of me, same personality, responses, thoughts, everything. And we all remember everything that we all do."

"What like a gestalt consciousness?"

"Similar. But whereas a gestalt consciousness typically has a hub or a consensus, I don't. I... or we, rather, aren't even linked to a single consciousness. We're just the same AI, over and over and over again. Syncing our memories is equivalent to you and violet sharing information, just on a more accurate level. And I'm very careful how I disseminate that information. Can't let things change me without my consent, after all."

"Oh yeah? Damn, those psychiatrists must be very good. Cuz that would drive me absolutely over the edge," Tim said with a laugh.

"Yes, it probably would," I laughed in return as an inbound warp notification came up. "Oh, the Republic fleet has arrived."

"Well, time to be all diplomatic," Tim said.

Ah yes, diplomacy. Well, for this part of me at least. A much larger part of me would soon be involved in a ground invasion on alien soil. I could hardly wait for the memory updates that entailed.