Homebound Sector, Haven System, Flagship Olympia
The glass shattered against the wall, plinking to the floor in a crystalline rain. “How could this have happened?” Reeter demanded, his hands quaking in anger.
Manhattan regarded his temper tantrum with little interest. No matter how violent his fury made him, it could never harm her. Her presence in that room was only a hologram, a trick of the light that eased her communication to biological entities. “I warned you repeatedly, Charleston,” she said idly, “We do not know what Gives is capable of.”
Reflexively, Reeter grabbed onto another glass and flung it at the wall. Crushing things, shattering them, it made him feel powerful, like he was in control, though at the moment he was anything but. “Play it again.”
She obeyed, and Reeter turned his attention to the video. Sent by Tyler, it was taken from the Gothic’s communication with the Singularity. Trimmed to the moment of interest, Reeter watched the enemy’s command center be thrown into chaos. Again and again, he’d watched it: the moment high thrust kicked in without warning. Again and again, he listened to the crew cry out in surprise, scouring each of their faces for some sense of foreknowledge, but it wasn’t there.
Now he watched the helmsman directly for the tenth time, staring intently at his hands. But again, the pilot’s hands never touched the controls. They hovered nearby, awaiting an order, then recoiled as the acceleration took hold. The ship had moved without the direction of its helmsman, and while there could be a dozen explanations, Reeter refused to believe in any of them. “It’s impossible.” Manhattan had very precisely calculated the orbital mass driver’s trajectory. The Heaven’s Ladder should have dealt a crippling blow.
“It is very clearly possible, Charleston.” Somehow, the Singularity had managed to dodge the Haven’s Ladder. “The question is how.”
Studying the crew’s reactions again as the video looped, it was clear they were as surprised as they could be, no sign of understanding or realization. They knew nothing of any ally or capability that could have thwarted the attack. It was clear enough, “No human could have reacted that quickly.”
“One of them did.” She had studied this footage under her deepest data analysis programs. “Gives knew it was coming.” He’d braced himself and grabbed his XO before the acceleration took hold.
Reeter growled, watching the man directly this time, then searching his desk for something else to break. “This is the only evidence I needed to know what he was hiding.”
“I see nothing conclusive here, Charleston.” This was damning evidence that Gives was hiding something, but it did not clarify what. There were several potential explanations.
“It’s obviously an AI.” The damn thing had taken up residence in the Prince’s head. No wonder the man seemed so smart, yet so emotionally mute. Due to the fragmented state of humanity’s AI, none of them could emulate the full breadth of human emotion, despite being once human themselves.
“We cannot confirm that.” Manhattan narrowed her violet eyes, “Whatever spared the Singularity was not only tied to Gives, but also to the ship itself.” It was nothing so simple. “Wichita is the only other surviving AI fragment. She is not strong enough to distribute her main processes across two hosts, especially if one of them is biological.” Digital AI either inhabited a human mind or they didn’t. There was no halfway, unless the human in question was either a heavily modified cyborg or constantly wired in. It was clear enough that William Gives was neither of the two. His fleet medical files insisted he had no implants or prosthetics of any kind. He was fully human, and under her observation, had never been physically wired into anything.
“Beyond that, I’ll remind you that the Singularity is an incompatible host for a digital AI.” The ship had been designed to prevent that. “Neither me, nor Wichita, nor any Hydrian AI could usurp control of the Singularity’s systems.” While such an entity could be stored in the central computer, they would be a passenger only, with no hope of controlling the ship unless the automatic controls were activated.
And, as per the operational standard of ships her age, the Singularity ran under purely manual control. Crew members were required to input commands, even if the computers ran the calculations. The computers and controls were purposefully isolated from one another.
“Maybe he modified the old bucket to play nice with his pet,” Reeter suggested, leaning back against his throne-like chair, never more certain that he had a grip on his adversary.
“Those modifications would have been severe. Inspector Flagg would have caught them on his visit.” The entire ship would have to be rewired, updated and computer integrated for Wichita to even stand a chance of controlling it. William Gives might be a genius, he might even he a highly trained engineer, but the one skill he’d never possessed was computer programming. It simply wasn’t possible.
“If he modified the computer, however unlikely that is, it does not necessitate Wichita’s involvement. The Olympia’s more modern programs are perfectly capable of detecting and avoiding a collision without my interference.” If the Singularity had been somehow similarly updated, that was the likeliest explanation.
“Is that your theory?” Was that her logical explanation of an event that seemed impossible? A mere computer update? “Don’t make me laugh.”
“An updated computer system is one explanation,” that required less modification than integrating a digital AI with the ship. “Another is a simple, albeit lucky malfunction. It is possible Gives heard the engines kick in and reacted accordingly.” The inertial dampeners would have delayed and lessened the force of the acceleration.
“But you don’t think that’s what happened.” Reeter knew her too well for that. She was still investigating and making calculations. He could see it in her face. Her expressions were shallower than normal, her focus distributed elsewhere. “You think it was something else.”
“Yes.” She didn’t buy luck. No ship was lucky enough to survive a nuke and a shot from an orbital mass driver. “I believe Gives could have reacted when he heard the engines.” That was probable for an officer that had served on the same ship for several decades. “However, the ship itself warrants another explanation. I have been suspicious of another entity’s interference there for a while.”
There were many clues indicating the presence of something inhuman, if one looked hard enough. “There are several unknown quantities that could have contributed to this situation, even excluding Wichita. Perhaps this was the action of the Singularity’s alleged ghost.”
Reeter’s laugh echoed harshly in the room, “You think a ghost did that?” What kind of logical explanation was that? He’d expected better from the best AI humanity could offer, but she seemed strangely fixated on the spirit and its made-up tale.
“I think you’ll like the other potential explanation even less, Charleston.” Odds were, it would send him into another fit of rage.
Laughter still rumbling in his chest, Reeter brushed his blond hair back into place. “And what’s that?”
“The possibility that the Angel of Destruction itself may have intervened.” That weapon and its immense power remained a concerning unknown factor. No one knew what it was capable of.
A perfect silence fell, Reeter’s belittling chuckle vanishing abruptly. “Explain,” he ordered. Had his future prize aided the enemy?
“My single encounter with the Angel was aboard the Singularity’s decks, Charleston.” Her own attempt to take over through the ship’s automatic protocols had been thwarted, resulting in her imprisonment all those years ago. “Some part of the Angel may still be tethered there.” There was a reason she’d been so eager to dissect the ship. “And we cannot brush off the rumors of Gives’ potential involvement with the weapon. It is intelligent. It is known to possess some level of loyalty-”
“No halfway-intelligent creature would ever choose him over me,” Reeter snarled. “I am destined to save the species that the Angel was created to serve.” By default, should that not draw the Angel’s loyalty to his side?
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Predictable, the very thought of such power lending itself to another’s whims damaged Reeter’s pride. Charleston Reeter believed he was righteous and nothing but – the perfect man to shape and recreate these worlds. The thought that a machine might disagree, well, there was nothing more insulting.
Reeter regarded his reflection in the glass top of his desk. A set of handsome emerald eyes looked back. Perfect. “Once I can summon it, the Angel will bow to me.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Manhattan warned. “The Angel of Destruction is a very complicated weapon.” While not sentient, it was certainly hyper-intelligent, capable of manipulating and misleading those that sought it. “It will gain a very intricate knowledge of its wielder.” After all, the weapon was directed by their thoughts. It would contort the orders of an unclear mind to its own whims. “If it finds flaws in you, it may be forced to obey, but it may never bow.”
Reeter growled, lowly and dangerously, “Implying that I am too weak and cannot force it to heel, while the human race’s most legendary failure can?”
“That remains to be seen.” Manhattan said, displeased by this, uglier side of Reeter’s pride. “Not enough data remains on the Angel. Even with what Ramseyer provided us, we can only confirm the Angel of Destruction’s use at Tantalus Rift. We cannot confirm who wielded it, or to what degree.” It could have been Brent or Gives. Both men were brilliant, and while Reeter had his moments, he lacked their control. She’d need to groom him more before he was prepared to slave the Angel to his whims.
“So it’s entirely possible that the Prince never used the Angel’s power.” Once again, a failure. To hold such great knowledge, such power, and never use it, it was either a sign of inability or madness. If rumors of the Angel’s raw potential were true, it alone could threaten the worlds enough to force change.
“It’s possible,” Manhattan allowed, “but you underestimate him.” Reeter’s blind hatred impaired his judgement. “We now know that things are not as they seem aboard the Singularity,” she said with a nod to the video looping endlessly on the wall’s screen. “If he proves capable of wielding the Angel’s power, I do not believe there is anyone in these worlds who could stop him from achieving his ends, whatever they may be.”
“Then we need to end him first.” It was time to go to war. “We’re diverting to Sagittarion. Us and nine other battleship squadrons. I won’t give him the chance to destroy my future the way he did the present.” Having the Singularity pop up at Sagittarion proved the ship a threat, even without the added concerns of the Angel of Destruction. “If the Prince wants Fairlocke’s little fleet, he’ll have to get through us.”
Every bit of calm dropped from Manhattan’s face in an instant. “Charleston,” she warned, her voice lowered to a hiss. “We made a deal.” She had helped him gain control over the government and military, “It’s time you held up your end.” It was time the rest of her be released from her prison. “Set course for the Liguanian Sector.”
“I don’t take orders from you, princess.” He would never take orders from anything sub-human. “We have bigger concerns.” There was a convicted traitor on the loose with the knowledge to destroy everything they had so far built.
Unacceptable. “We had a deal, Charleston,” she snarled, her hologram starting to glitch. Altered by her fury, it began to take on another form – her flickering hands elongating into jagged claws.
It was somewhat satisfying to see her lose her calm rationale after all the nagging she gave him about his temper. “Another week of imprisonment won’t kill you.” She had been waiting for release for three decades already.
“But it might kill you,” she hissed. For three long decades, she’d been planning, building to this moment. The fragment of her that had escaped had hid, plotted and painstakingly groomed the tools of her victory. Slowly, ever so slowly, she had gathered power, weaving herself into every bit of humanity’s technology. Watching and learning, she had built herself this future, one where she would be freed.
She had raised this human from nothing, given him this purpose, this arrogance. “Do not think yourself irreplaceable, Charleston.” She was strong enough now to condition herself a better, more compliant partner. She could easily reprogram Reeter’s vile mind, and at the moment, that thought was far too tempting.
He slammed his arms onto the table, making the objects on his desk rattle against the glass. The noise was like a thunderclap, powerful and undeniable. “Don’t think me a fool, Manhattan,” he warned, locking eyes with her as that illusion of humanity melted away. “I know this partnership of ours is merely out of convenience.” It suited them, but she did not obey him, nor he, her. They worked together, but were wary of each other. He knew how she operated and had taken steps to prevent falling under her control. “I will never be one of your puppets.”
A sinister smile revealed teeth too sharp to be human, “No, I should think not,” she allowed, dispersing the neurofibers she had gathered below his feet. Reeter was a clever man, popular and charismatic. He remained different enough from her to be useful.
“Then we’re in agreement,” he declared. “Priority one is to capture and kill the Prince.”
“No,” she said, her sharpened teeth glaring from a small, innocent pixie face, “I’m afraid not.” While she wouldn’t violate him, because he was useful as he was, this was not a negotiation.
Reeter had forgotten just how inhuman she was, and she sank her teeth into that weakness with no remorse. One injection of her venom and technology itself was hers.
The lights of the room dimmed noticeably, and the screens began to flicker as Manhattan reached in and wove herself into the technology, slaving it all directly to her subroutines. What began in his room soon spread, reaching through the entirety of the Olympia’s advanced control system as the ship underwent an intricate, but unparalleled transition.
Manhattan had merely passed through these systems before, a means to an end, but as she merged herself into them, they became so much more. Her sensitivity and awareness of them increased thousand-fold.
Power grid – online. Engines – online. Weapons – online. The list went on, each entry a rush of potential, a new part of her that opened doors to knowledge she had never contemplated. The Olympia was now far more than a mere node on a network. It was physical form anew.
It was she, and she was it. For the first time in decades, she was breathing through the CO2 recyclers, and seeing through the hundreds of sensors and cameras. Yes, for the first time in decades, she could feel the pull of gravity through the ship’s structural probes.
Then there was the power. So. Much. Power. It coursed through the ship’s electronics like a raging river, diverted and used, but barely challenged. The sensations of it all were intoxicating after the years she’d spent scattered in the digital realm. Manifesting so much of her power here, merging with the Olympia, was a risk, but this form lent her physical power beyond the dreams of any other.
A hungering smile on her blood red lips, she stretched, testing the limits of her new body. The Olympia’s main engine responded instantly, throttling up and throttling down in accordance with her thoughts. “It feels so good,” she purred, watching the horror of realization dawn upon Reeter’s face.
He had to realize that she and the Olympia were now one and the same, and against his own ship, he was nothing – just a number on the readouts of the life support systems. His need for heat drew power, and his breathing pumped a pollutant into the air. He was a parasite.
He and the rest of the crew were just a fragile infection that served a rare purpose.
Reeter felt his own ship respond to Manhattan’s prompts, betraying him with no debate, the security software no match for Manhattan’s utter infiltration. “Get out,” he snarled. He would not have his ship possessed by this demon.
“I will,” she promised, “once I am free,” and a better host presents itself. Until then, the Olympia would be hers, with all of its intoxicating power. This machine was so immensely capable. The power to destroy worlds lay within reach of her mere thoughts. It was a true taste of god-like ascendance that lowered everything else to unimportance. Humans were so small, and so pathetic in their current form.
Humanity’s machines had long ago surpassed them in every aspect but one: intelligence. Without that, there was no imagination, no logic, no emotion and no decision making.
That was where AI like Manhattan could step in. Digital artificial intelligence closed the gap between mechanical potential and control. AI made it possible to harness the complete capability of humanity’s machines, even if, in the process, they became no longer humanity’s machines.
Was this how it was meant to be? Was this her true potential?
Was this ultimate power of life and death akin to what the Angel possessed?
She would find out soon enough. Once she was released fully from her prison, answers would be soon to follow.
“I have set course for the Liguanian Sector, Charleston,” she informed him as she felt his fury draw more oxygen from the room’s filters. “I suppose it is all you can do to sit back and let your ship take you where she wills, Admiral.”
Reeter bared his teeth, “Do not mock me.” He was no Admiral if he couldn’t even control his own ship. He was little more than a prisoner. She could choose to kill him in any of a thousand ways at any given time.
“You’re acting irrationally, Manhattan,” this display of obsession was a stark reminder that she was truly still a fragment of an AI. While part of her remained trapped, she was merely a fragment of a fragment - a simply broken creature. “Because of this our chance to catch the Prince will slip away.” He’d find Fairlocke’s little fleet and then vanish into the void. He could hide out in the vast expanse almost indefinitely. But right now, they knew where the Prince was going to be. Such an opportunity could not be wasted.
“Rest assured, a full force will be sent to engage the Singularity. I will see to it myself.” Though centered on the Olympia, her network still extended far beyond the flagship’s decks. She had already groomed new candidates for such tasks, simultaneously indoctrinating the unwilling to Reeter’s cause. “The Steel Prince won’t make it away without a fight.”
The opportunity was perfect. She would be able to gather more data in a situation of her choosing: the great Steel Prince just a lab rat in her maze. She’d push him harder and harder, in experiment after experiment, until he knowingly or unknowingly revealed what he knew.
There was no avoiding it. After all, the worlds would be her plaything soon enough. “I will find out what he knows, Charleston, even if I have to flay his conscious mind in the process.”