War Bodies, page 17
‘So what do you think?’ she asked, holding her arms out to the sides, the smile dying a little and frown lines appearing on her forehead.
‘It doesn’t seem possible,’ he replied. He gestured to the console. ‘But now I’m really starting to understand how far ahead the Polity is.’
She tapped a hand against her leg. ‘They had something of me to work with since not everything was gone. They used bioprinting, and Albermech had already made up the requisite substrates from my cells.’
‘I see.’ It wasn’t such a stretch. In fact, just a further extension of cell welding. However, it had been one the Cyberat never developed, since the option of building a human body back up went contrary to their ideology.
‘Since then I’ve been working in the hold tanks – have you seen them?’
‘No. I only have access to the information in the console – the connections beyond this place are closed. I’ve seen a fraction of this ship but, obviously more than the rest of the Cyberat have.’ She shrugged at that, still smiling, and he continued, ‘I then started taking a look at what you and my father put inside me, which was . . . interesting.’
‘Your father,’ she said, smile maintained but turning glassy.
‘They seem concerned about this technology,’ he added, wondering about her grief and what they might have done to her mind here.
Her smile died completely. ‘That is something we will need to discuss in all seriousness when Albermech gets here. Captain Corisian isn’t too happy about the situation, but agrees that he can’t go tossing people into the nearest sun on so little evidence.’
‘What? Captain Corisian?’
‘This ship is what is known as an interfaced dreadnought. It’s apparently a bit of an anachronism, in that it has a human captain who interfaces, as much as is possible with current Polity technology, with its AI Albermech.’ She seemed glad to have moved on to another subject.
‘As much distrust of AIs as the original Cyberat?’ he wondered.
‘That’s what I thought, but dreadnoughts like this were built after what they call the Quiet War, when the AIs took over Earth and in the Solar system. I’m still trying to figure out the reasoning. There’s some talk of a time when humans could remain functional after an EMP blast, while the AI would go down, but that certainly doesn’t apply now. Maybe the AIs just want to include humans – they certainly don’t need them.’
Piper said nothing to that, though it contradicted part of the story he’d taken from Albermech’s mind. If Albermech was one facet of the duality of an interfaced dreadnought built after the Quiet War, then he couldn’t have been a probe ship AI. That was a lie Piper knew he’d pursue later but, right now, the mention of an EMP reminded him of Castron and of this chamber in which he’d been imprisoned.
‘Why am I locked in here, Mother?’ he asked.
She stood up abruptly and moved over to his console, calling up a menu he had yet to fully encompass, and worked her way through it. He studied the console node and saw those outside connections briefly open to pour in terabytes of data before snapping closed. This intrigued him – it had no doubt been done for her – but it told him there were systems watching him of which he was not yet aware. After finding what she wanted, she detached a remote handset from the touch controls, held it up and walked back over to sit beside him again.
‘As I said, you’ll get that explanation when Albermech arrives. I am not entirely clear on all the details. Meanwhile, I’ve something to show you.’
She was prevaricating, but he let it pass.
She clicked the control and, in mid-air before them, a holographic screen opened. It started out black, as if the contrast was off, then divided into eight views and brought things sharply into three dimensions. These views were of the interiors of huge, long cylinders he knew at once to be the hold tanks attached to the outside of the dreadnought. Bars ran along the length of them through a series of frames. Fixed in these frames, and attached by a variety of umbilici to the bars, were Cyberat. In one view many of them were plug form, inside clear spheres filled with fluid. In the next were those who retained their fighting, or otherwise mobile, bodies and he recognized that most of these were Enforcers. And in another, he saw more of the same, along with a line of huge war bodies – all immobilized and linked in – which raised a stab of anger. There were thousands of Cyberat in these views, but the remaining five showed empty holds.
‘They have been working fast, and I have to wonder how much of this was prepared beforehand,’ said his mother.
‘I understand why Enforcers are here, but not some of those others,’ said Piper. Anger became his foundation for clarity and his overlay started building again. With imagined or perhaps real yellow eyes, he observed only the two nodes available to him, but remained alert. Simultaneously analysing the view into the holds, he noted the lack of movement in the bodies. These people were in some form of hibernation – the ones in glassy spheres perhaps in a deeper version of that because of injury or other damage.
‘With the netlinks open and no longer censored, as far as we know, our Polity friends made them all an offer. Room enough aboard for transport into the Polity, and complete restoration of their human bodies. Many have taken them up on that – mostly those fleeing from the new regime.’
It was as Inster had surmised previously.
‘And in return?’
‘Oh, it’s completely overt and all Cyberat know about the war with the prador now. Five years of service in the war against them, in exchange they get their new bodies afterwards.’
‘So much for the altruistic Polity,’ said Piper.
‘It’s a big war and a fight for human survival. A degree of morality has been sacrificed.’ She glanced at him. ‘Inster and Albermech talk of “cold calculations”. That is, actions leading to the best result, despite the necessity of sacrifices along the way. It seems distant from us but, if these prador win, we’ll face extermination too.’
Piper grunted an acknowledgement. What surprised him was that this was so overt. From his own experience so far with Inster and others, he expected a more sneaky approach. He gazed at the images, now seeing handler robots like steel spiders bringing in more Cyberat at the far ends of the holds, and swiftly lifting them up to attach. So, besides the Enforcers, here were Cyberat who had worked for the Old Guard, along with some of the rulers too. He didn’t like that at all. Would the Polity have offered Castron a place here too if he’d asked? The data feeds to the console opened again and the image abruptly shrank down to a dark area at the centre of the holographic screen, before expanding into the shape of a man. As he stepped out of the screen, the thing collapsed behind him.
‘Albermech,’ said his mother.
The avatar of the ship AI was perfect. It even looked as if the carpet was indenting under his tread. He nodded politely to them both, then walked over to the console, grabbing the chair there and pulling it across before them, to sit astride it with his hands resting on the back. Piper had no idea how he’d managed this until he saw data fragments swirling in his inner space, new nodes forming and deforming amidst it. During their deformation phase, he glimpsed a lot of technology now active all around them – in the walls, the floor, pin-head emitters poking through between the tiles of the chamber. Though his access was limited, from this he at least understood it was a grav vortex, working through the floor, that had moved the chair. The nodes kept changing shape, and then falling back into hard impenetrable slickness. His reptile responded with avarice, gathering data, seeking routes to control.
‘So,’ said Albermech, ‘the rebels are now in power and establishing their free and fair regime.’ He grimaced.
‘It’s easy for you to mock from your lofty position,’ said Reema. ‘We will do our best. The progression hospitals will be closed down and the birthing facilities . . . well, they will be changed. Of course, there will be some chaos to begin with.’
‘Ah, but it seems that hunting down and summarily executing members of the old regime, including disabled Enforcers, is of prime importance.’ He gestured behind him where the screen had been. ‘We’re rescuing as many as we can, but still . . .’
Reema frowned and bowed her head. ‘I have to go back there. They will need me.’
‘Indeed,’ said Albermech. ‘You are a figurehead and in a strong position. Perhaps you can tone down the enthusiasm of your fellow rebels.’
‘Of course I can,’ she said, ‘but right now we must get to the matter of my son.’ She reached out and put a hand on Piper’s shoulder. He looked at it, noting its perfection, and remembered the previous inset metallic channels, and the two fingers of composite.
‘You had some understanding of what your husband was doing, but perhaps not enough,’ the AI avatar told her. ‘The hardware in his bones is comparable to our present AI crystal and related subsystems.’ Albermech focused on Piper. ‘You were made into a weapon whose purpose you already know, and made very well. However, when I connected to you, I found that the nature of your substrate is fractal and extends down into the Planck realm. Even we aren’t quite capable of doing that, at least not with the degree of complexity evident in you, but it is something we have seen before.’
‘Alien technology,’ said Piper. ‘Inster told me . . . civilization-destroying dangerous.’
Even as he spoke, Piper continued probing all the systems around him. He wanted to stop but the action seemed almost automatic. This aroused further anger at his lack of self-control, which frustratingly transitioned into him seeking control outside of himself.
‘They were named the Jain,’ said Albermech.
‘The Jain,’ Piper repeated, focusing on the word as an anchor. ‘Why the Jain?’
‘Apparently named after the daughter of the archaeologists who first found remnants, though the spelling of the word later changed. I suspect the twisted humour of some other AI in that, since it’s the name of a pre-Quiet War, peaceful religion.’ Albermech’s mouth twisted, and Piper wasn’t sure if he was frowning or suppressing a smile.
‘And why so dangerous?’ Piper asked. It was easing now – the conversation pulling him back from trying to get a grip on surrounding systems.
‘Over the years various artefacts were found and gathered, but it was once they were passed over to an AI for analysis that we learned the truth. This AI only just managed to escape intact when some kind of comlife emerged from an artefact and tried to sequester him. Future studies were conducted with more caution and the assessment is this: the Jain were a hostile species that created a technology capable of seizing control of other technologies on a computing level, and even on a physical level too if enough energy and materials are available. It reacts to the complexity of intelligence and is otherwise mostly inert.’
‘I see,’ said Piper, and he did. How could he not see the connection between this alien technology, built to sequester other technology, and what lay inside him, which had been fashioned for the same purpose? He could feel it within him now, driving him to seize control here. The hostility of that inner reptile infected his thinking. Yes, the explanation fitted exactly.
‘Only in looking into a piece of Jain technology have I seen the subnano complexity I see in your bones. So, I believe your father used Jain technology.’
‘You believe,’ Reema repeated.
Albermech turned to her. ‘It will need to be confirmed one way or the other. Inster tried to seize what he could find of your husband’s work.’ He paused for a second then added, ‘But it would appear someone got there beforehand. Do you know anything about that?’
‘No, I do not.’
She looked puzzled to Piper and he believed it was real. She’d only just reacquired a face so he doubted she had learned to conceal her emotions yet.
‘We will find what we can,’ said Albermech.
‘Without permission.’ Reema found something to be angry about. ‘You are behaving like the AI autocrats we Cyberat feared.’
‘No. The AIs you feared would have sown your world with CTDs.’
‘CTDs?’ Piper asked his mother.
‘Contra-terrene devices. Antimatter bombs,’ she said in confusion. ‘So you really are serious about this? It’s not just another seizure of a useful asset for your war?’
Albermech waved a finger in a circular motion above his head, indicating their surroundings. ‘If there is Jain tech on your world, it could become active at any time, and prador at the Polity back door would be a far lesser worry. And if the basis of what your son has in his bones is Jain tech, and it usurps intended function to take control amidst your technology or our own, that could be the end of the Cyberat, or the end of the Polity.’
‘Hence Captain Corisian thinking the sun would be a better place for me,’ said Piper.
‘Corisian is hasty,’ said Albermech. ‘If Jain tech is the basis of what’s inside you, the main question that arises is why it hasn’t activated to seize control of you and everything around you.’
Piper felt sick. Even though they had no firm confirmation of this, again he felt sure Albermech was right. It also explained his out-of-character decisions to be so careless with lives, including his own. It had to be the hostility of these Jain, arising inside him, and only just held in check.
‘So what are your plans?’ Reema asked. She glanced at Piper again, and he saw the annoyance in her expression. ‘I’m not going to fool myself into thinking I have any influence on them.’
‘When we are ready, we will leave,’ said Albermech. He turned to Piper, ‘And you will be coming with us.’ He swung back to Reema. ‘The only thing in doubt is whether you will accompany him.’
Piper didn’t need to hear her answer – he had already read it in her face.
His mother came back and visited him two more times. She took on her lecturing persona during those occasions, probably to cover the guilt she felt. His own feelings were odd to him. He experienced a dip in his mood when she left for the last time, to catch a lift on a shuttle heading down to the surface. Sure, on acquiring a new body she had changed but, like his father had been, was still cold and didactic. Then excitement to be on this journey into the unknown quickly supplanted those feelings. He also felt the way he had when the Cyberat doctors began treating him for his problematic aggression, and then finally when they called him in to a progression hospital to have his implant. He’d had a problem, a serious problem, but was in the hands of the experts who would deal with it. The dichotomy here was that before he’d trusted his Cyberat doctors, while now he didn’t trust the Polity at all. That earlier trust had been misplaced; now he hoped, illogically, his mistrust here might be erroneous too.
‘Isn’t it dangerous to keep opening up the projection and scanning equipment like this? I’m learning more about it every time,’ said Piper.
Inster had appeared, and was wandering around the room, pausing momentarily to look out of the window, and again to peer over Piper’s shoulder at what he had up on his screen. Eventually he went over and slumped in the sofa. It sank underneath his weight, which was odd, of course, since being a hologram he had no weight at all.
‘All risk assessed,’ he said, waving a dismissive hand. ‘If we were inclined to take no risks at all, well, that would have been Corisian’s solution. But Albermech wants to learn as much as possible about you so, therefore, windows have to be opened.’
‘But this much risk? He can’t scan me without making himself vulnerable.’ Piper didn’t look round. He flipped to the next page on the screen he was reading and continued. He had it now, though whether it operated through the hardware in his bones or the wetware in his skull was unclear to him. But he could read Polity Anglic.
‘Indeed, and he is gathering as much data as possible for Kalaidon to work with.’
Piper pushed his chair back. ‘Kalaidon?’
‘An expert in such matters,’ said Inster. ‘He was the AI who first investigated a Jain artefact and nearly lost his mind to it.’
‘So we’ll be heading to Earth?’ During his investigations Piper had discovered that most Jain artefacts were stored in the museum on Earth’s moon.
‘No, as it happens, Kalaidon has found other employment and is working in one of our war factories. Room 101 – look it up, you’ll find it interesting.’
Piper shrugged, waved a hand and brought the holographic screen into being. Only after he’d done it did he feel a hot flush of inappropriate embarrassment. He’d called up the holographic screen without using the console controls – activating it from the inside. Even though he’d been avoiding using this ability, it had almost sneakily crept out. Embarrassment then transitioned in a surge of panic. Was it a further sign of the Jain technology inside him starting to take over? And yet, even as he feared this, he input a search mentally and called up images of Factory Station Room 101.
‘About a hundred kilometres long,’ said Inster. ‘I’m sure you’ll have a fun time looking up the stuff that it’s doing.’
Piper nodded as he watched ships streaming out of an oblong factory station, with giant square bay entrances down the sides. He really grasped the scale of it after noting that many of the ships were of a similar design to the one he was sitting aboard. Now, almost with stubborn intransigence, he took the data on the war factory directly from the console’s storage into his mind. The information dropped into his thoughts as if it were something he’d learned thoroughly, while he couldn’t detect if it resided in his organic brain or in his bones. On this level, there seemed to be no division between them at all. Was this the bait of Jain technology: the ease and the power? He just didn’t know. Before he could question it further, he felt a surge through the console, as well as in the various emitters and scanners all around him. The war factory distorted and shrank to a black dot, which then expanded into a corridor in the Albermech. Walking along it came Geelie, Cheen, Sloan and Meersham. They were holding various bottles and packets as they stepped through into his room. The sense of their presence was intense.
