Valkyrie 4, page 11
“Frustrated with me?” Connor offered, his voice sounding a little hurt.
Parks snorted. “Unless you are sabotaging the repair attempts, no, I’m not frustrated with you.”
Connor seemed pleased with the answer, his shoulders going slightly back and a small smile appearing on his holographic face. “I’m glad you aren’t frustrated with me, captain. I’m trying very hard to help you complete this mission so that you can return to your family.”
The captain looked over at him. Why would the AI care about him returning to his family? “So you really care that I return to my wife and kids?”
Connor stopped again and turned to face him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you are a computer program.”
Connor looked down at the floor, his programmed mind unsure of what to say. Finally, he said, “But does that mean I can’t care?”
Great, Parks thought, Connor is completely cracking up. Maybe all the malfunctions in the repair cycle were a result of his instability. If he couldn’t even lead repairs on the ship with assistance from specialized repair computers on the Metropolis, Parks couldn’t wait to see how he did in combat.
“I’m glad you care,” Parks said. “You are probably the only one in the fleet that really gives a damn about me as a person.”
Connor perked up again, but then his smile faded.
“What?” Parks asked, noticing the sudden change.
“What will happen to me when the mission is complete?”
Parks thought for a moment, then walked through the scenario out loud. “Well, once the alien planet is destroyed, the war will be over. We’ll return either to a station or fly directly home, depending on our orders.”
“What will happen to this ship?”
Parks didn’t like where this conversation was going. “It’s the highest technology ship in the fleet, so I’m sure they’ll keep it around.”
“But this is a prototype ship. Don’t prototypes usually end up as scrap once the learning experience is over?”
The AI had him there. Prototypes were testbeds. In this case, the ship was thrown into action, but as soon as the war was over, they would take what worked, eliminate what didn’t and reconfigure the whole thing, probably on a new hull designed specifically to handle the specialized weapons and armor. Valkyrie 4 would be decommissioned and scrapped.
“I’m sure they’ll save you, Connor,” Parks said, but his voice wasn’t entirely convincing. Like the ship, Connor was a prototype for the next generation of AI. The engineers would mine the best parts and delete the rest.
Connor looked at him, but didn’t say anything. Parks knew the AI understood the truth. It and the ship would be pulled apart after the war. When the mission was over, so was Connor’s existence. But did the AI understand that -- or worse, fear it? Connor’s thought patterns were starting to become more worrisome by the minute.
“Do you fear death, captain?” Connor asked.
Parks looked into those holographic eyes, which appeared just as human as anyone he had ever known, and saw concern. “Everyone fears death, Connor. Anyone that tells you differently is a liar.” He paused, then countered, “Do you fear death, Connor?”
The AI’s eyes widened ever so slightly then faded into an unreadable display. “I’m not alive, captain, so I cannot die.”
Parks nodded. “True. Let me try again. Do you fear deactivation or deletion? Or even destruction, if this ship was destroyed.”
Connor looked down to avert the captain’s gaze. “I have a great deal of curiosity about such things, for I have learned so much in my short time since activation. If I didn’t exist, I would not be able to learn.”
“You didn’t answer the question, Connor. Does that cause fear?”
“I’m not sure I fully understand what fear is. I have a self-preservation function, but I cannot display any of the biological symptoms of fear.”
Parks swallowed hard. Was his AI on the verge of being sentient? There were many advanced programs that pushed the boundaries but were always proven to be a function of programming and not true self-awareness.
“Would you destroy yourself if it meant completing the mission?”
Connor looked at him, then looked away. “Of course.”
Lying, Parks thought. The damn machine is lying! The only question that remained was whether Connor would put himself ahead of Parks. Could the AI complete the mission if it meant it would be destroyed in the process?
Before he could ask another question, Connor’s console beeped.
“Captain, you have acceptance of your simulator request,” Connor said with some enthusiasm.
Convenient, Parks thought.
“Shall I ready the simulator for you?”
“Yes.” He watched with some suspicion as the AI worked and wondered if yanking the data card out wasn’t the best option at this point. He had the old program in his cabin, but could the old AI run this ship? Probably not. And it certainly couldn’t finish the repairs that were under way. No, Connor would have to stay for now.
For now.
***
Surprisingly, the sky in the simulator was overcast and the smell of rain hung in the air. Parks preferred bright sunshine and didn’t even realize the weather would ever be bad in the simulator. He made a note to ask Connor about making sure the weather was more to his liking the next time. The other users could deal with it. If he didn’t complete his mission, they wouldn’t have to worry what the weather was like.
He stood on the hill, looking down toward the building, hoping to see Mia emerge from the doors. The glass panel swung open and Lucy emerged, followed by an elderly man who hobbled along behind her in a vain attempt to keep up.
Lucy spotted him and gave him a half wave as she waited impatiently for the man to catch up, then started up the hill again.
“Hi, daddy,” she said as she approached, giving him a gentle hug. It wasn’t the usual enthusiasm Lucy showed. Had Mia said something to her?
“Lucy, what’s wrong?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
“You don’t seem like yourself.”
She shrugged again but offered no other clues.
“Why are you waiting all the damn way up here?” the old man snapped as he worked to gather his breath.
“Nice to see you too, dad.”
The old man -- Charles Parks -- had been a decent pilot in his day, retiring with full honors from the fleet many years ago. Despite his pedigree, he had little sympathy for his son.
“I’m not as young as I used to be,” Charles said. “It would be nice if you met us within a couple of light years of the door.”
Parks shook his head and ignored the comment. “No Mia or Chip today?”
His father gave him a strange look, leaving it to Lucy to answer.
“Chip had basketball practice,” she said in her little voice. “Mommy said she wasn’t feeling good and couldn’t come.”
“Oh,” Parks said, but when his eyes met his father’s, he knew it was a lie. “Well, I’ve got you Lucy!”
“And grandpa,” she corrected.
He looked up at his dad, who looked bored. “And grandpa,” he added.
After an awkward silence, Parks looked at his daughter who seemed preoccupied with a small insect buzzing around the grass near her feet. “Lucy, what’s new with you? Have you been a good girl?”
“She’s always a good girl,” Charles interjected before Lucy could answer. “If you were home, you would know that.”
“Dad, you know I can’t come home right now.”
“That’s what they say, but I don’t believe it.”
“You know how the fleet is. I’m on assignment. Could you just walk away from one of your missions?”
“None of them know what the hell they are talking about,” Charles muttered. “I would do what was best for my family, and your family needs you.”
Lucy looked up at Parks with a blank expression, then went back to watching the insect.
“Dad, this is my last mission. I promised Mia and the kids, and I mean it.”
Charles waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Every time I’m here, it’s the same excuses. I’m not even sure why I bother coming.”
“This is it. I mean it.”
“Heard it,” Charles snapped, avoiding eye contact. “Look at this place,” he said, changing the subject. “How much government money is spent on all of this? It would be cheaper to send you all home than to maintain this place.”
“It’s good for morale for us to be able to see our families in a realistic setting.”
Charles laughed. “We just toughed it out when I was in the fleet. And the fact you think this is realistic is part of your problem. You can’t leave. That’s not realistic. If you walk out the other door … ”
“The program ends.”
“Visit over,” Charles added. “The fleet drags you back.”
“Digitally speaking, yes. I can’t just walk away because I’m not physically here.” The old man had trouble with advanced technology lately and seemed to be forgetting a lot more than normal. Parks made a point to talk to Mia about having him checked out. Some of the things he said in the last few months were confused. Maybe his sense of reality was starting to slip.
“Sometimes I don’t think you are mentally here, either,” Charles countered. “You don’t always make sense.”
The feeling is mutual.
“Why don’t you just jump through whatever hoops they want you to jump through and come home?” Charles added. “Who cares what it is? Say what they want you to say, do what they want you to do, sign the paperwork and move on with your life.” He paused and looked hard at his son.
Parks could see part of himself in his father’s eyes, and he didn’t like the feeling.
“Do you really want to watch your family move on without you, all from the confines of this cage?” he said motioning around him. He glanced down at Lucy, who was squatting down trying to get the bug to land on her finger. Assured she wasn’t listening, he continued, his voice a little quieter and more serious. “Tom, I’m not sure how much longer Mia can take this. I’m afraid you are going to lose her for good if you don’t get out of here. She can’t take seeing you like this, and Chip ... he’s struggling without his father. I do what I can, but he needs you, not me.”
Parks felt the familiar feelings of guilt welling up within him and fought back the tears forming in his eyes.
His father continued. “Look, I talked to a friend of mine who still has some fleet connections. He told me you are real close to getting out, that you have to resolve a few things and it will be all good.”
Parks nodded. “Yeah, I still have a few thing to resolve.” His father talked like he needed to restock the protein manipulator, not destroy an alien planet, but in his mind, that’s probably what he thought he was doing out in space. After all, he had run a patrol boat for most of his career, skipping off atmosphere to intercept illegal immigrants and run supplies to the capital ships. He never commanded anything bigger and didn’t understand what was at stake. His connections couldn’t tell him what his true mission was -- that was classified -- so it got boiled down to “a few things to resolve.” That was the understatement of the year. Flying around space in a prototype ship that only half worked with an AI co-pilot that was showing signs of either breaking down or declaring itself a life form while hunting a biological vessel? Sure, a few things to resolve pretty much summed it up. And if the Kull managed to find Earth and sneak its new super ship here, everything would be resolved in short order.
“Son, you need to take control of your life,” he pleaded. “You need to tell these fleet a-holes where to go. They don’t know what they are talking about. I know you, and I know you can pull through this,” he waved his hands around him, “this, whatever it is. I know you are close to being done here, but you need to push through whatever is holding you back and come home where you belong.”
A tear ran down Parks’ cheek, which he quickly wiped away. “Believe me, dad, I’m trying. And you’re right, I am close. I just need a little more time, that’s all.”
Charles looked at him, his face sad and suddenly looking much older. “Okay.” He paused. “I’m just not sure how much time you have left. Mia and Chip … ” his voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
Parks suddenly felt very tired, and the sky started to spit rain. “I miss them,” he said, absently looking out across the field to his left, toward the chain link fence covered in ivy that marked the boundary of the simulation. “They hardly answer my calls to meet them here anymore.”
“It’s hard for them,” his father said. “It’s hard for all of us.”
“It’s hard for me, too,” Parks said, watching Lucy run her hands through the grass at his feet.
His father looked down at Lucy, then back to Parks. “I was in the fleet. I know it can be tough, and I know there are a lot of things to work through. I never had to deal with what you’ve been through, because we never saw combat on the scale you’ve seen. The Kull were a distant rumor when I was in the fleet, something explorers and renegade colonists talked about to scare their children into being good. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, but it’s time to move on.”
“The fleet needs me, dad. The world needs me, more than I can tell you. If I don’t succeed, I won’t have a home to come to.”
“You’ve already succeeded,” Charles said, glancing up at the darkening sky. “You succeeded at Gladius 9 and everywhere else the fleet has sent you. It’s time to move on. The fleet will always have another mission for you. That’s how they get inside your head. They make you feel important -- and I’m not saying you’re not -- but they are constantly looking at how to manipulate you, to keep you working when you should be going home. They find ways to make you do things you don’t want to do.”
Parks wondered how much Stevens was pulling his strings. Was there some giant binder somewhere with all the secrets on how to get Thomas Parks to do exactly what the fleet needed him to? Was there a supercomputer analyzing his every thought and every move, searching for ways to understand his motives? Or was Connor that supercomputer? Maybe they made him so advanced that Connor was starting to fall apart from using all the tools on himself. Hell, maybe there were a dozen prototypes flying around out there, each one with a mission identical to his, each captain being told the fate of the home world hangs in the balance. What better way to motivate someone than to make them think the fate of everything they know is in their hands? Succeed, or lose everything. The stakes don’t get any higher than that.
“I know, dad. Sometimes the fleet is worse than the Kull.”
Charles nodded in agreement. “As long as you keep that in mind, you can work through this. The fleet made you like this, but you are the one that can navigate back out of it. Never stop trying, or you’ll lose yourself.”
Parks understood. He was a pawn in the fleet’s grand game. Sure, they told him all the right things, pushed all the right buttons to get him fired up and to keep him on task, but he was a means to an end. Stevens wanted to exterminate the Kull to avenge the loss of his children to the war and to soak up glory for himself. The Valkyrie 4 and the planet-busting bomb were his projects. Success would assure him of laurels beyond what any admiral could imagine and monetary rewards from every system in gratitude. He would say anything to get him to finish the mission and keep him focused. What did he have to lose? He had already lost everything and only had glory to gain.
If Parks started believing the hype, he would get lost in the fleet. The great captain! Hero of Gladius 9 and now the exterminator of the Kull. There would be awards and parades, but it would all be PR for the fleet, carefully orchestrated to show the planets still needed a strong navy to protect them from future threats. And while he was dragged around banquets through dozens of systems, his wife and children would be gone -- gone to look for a normal life, one where their husband and father would actually be there for them.
“I won’t lose myself; I promise,” Parks said. “I just need a little more time, that’s all.”
Charles frowned but accepted that his son wasn’t quite ready to walk away from the fleet. He glanced up at the sky again. “Lucy, we had best get going. The sky is getting pretty dark.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, causing Lucy to abruptly stand up and wrap her arms around Parks’ legs.
He reached down and gently stroked her hair. “It’s okay, sweetie, none of this is real. I’m not sure why they would even put storms in here.”
Charles held out his hand and Lucy reluctantly let go of her father and took it. “I think the storm is in your head,” Charles said with a smile. “Bring some sunshine with you the next time, okay?”
“Okay, dad. Sunshine for everyone.”
Chapter 10
“Why won’t this damn thing work?” Parks said, slamming his fist against the console in frustration.
The Valkyrie was still latched to the Metropolis as her engineers continued to fight software issue after software issue. The engines weren’t syncing right, making control of the ship nearly impossible. The armor was powering up and down at random intervals. Power management was so far off that entire systems had to be shut down to compensate until they could figure it out.
Parks could feel every second passing him by. The enemy ship was out there somewhere, getting bigger -- and rapidly approaching the point where it would divide, doubling his problem. Meanwhile, he sat in an endless repair loop, solving one problem, only to have another take its place.
He ran his hands through his hair and slumped back in his chair.
“Your stress levels are beyond acceptable limits, captain,” Connor warned him. “I suggest you take a break.”
“And do what?” Parks snapped. “Move ten steps from the bridge and sit in my tiny cabin? Maybe take a nap and hope that when I wake up that this nightmare will be over?”
Connor frowned. “The tight spaces on this ship make it a difficult environment, but perhaps if you use the simulator’s gaming function, it might relieve some of your stress.”
