House Rank: 1, Squad Zero
M1 Rank: Unknown
Term 1, Round 1
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The next chief outlined the course for behavioural studies, which was a generic term to encompass the units contained within. What separated this course from the others was not only its content but also how it was assessed. There was no official assessment.
The academic subjects had tests and challenges, and the interactive subjects like gunnery had defined metrics that could be measured as easily as a math test. But behavioural would be given an entirely subjective grading based on observations by the cadet’s house master, the chief, and his robot aides. This method scared most but pleased Daedo. In cyberschool, they would learn theory and write an essay or produce a vid which was marked. It only showed that a cadet could regurgitate the theory; in no way did it assess if they understood and were able to put the theory into practice.
The chief outlined the courses they would cover over the next three years. The headline course was leadership, followed by ethics, military law, and communications. The chief clarified that communications was not a technical subject, but one which instructed the cadet how to argue, persuade, and inform using all types of media such as oral, written, and vids.
Although the subject had no official tests, there were projects such as convincing someone to do a particular thing or holding a debate amongst the cadet’s squad on one of the topics. The chief did not expressly direct squadmates to assist one another, nor did he forbid it. Chief Tau was a very interesting person, and Daedo looked forward to reading and watching all of his material and the information contained within the mandatory and optional source lists.
The next to speak was Chief Richelieu from Reference. This subject was a slog of required material that resulted in projects to show understanding. The primary course in the subject was military history which contained a thousand hours of source material for each year. It would be impossible to take it all in. Daedo calculated that if he spent ten hours a week – way too much for the subject – it would result in four hundred hours for the forty weeks of terms. The year was broken up into four terms of ten weeks with the remainder of the year slated for holidays and competitions.
At the end of each term, there would be a short break before the next started. The intra-academy competitions would take place at the end of each term, which put even more time pressure into the last weeks.
Daedo knew he would utilise Myrmidon’s processing speed and distillation of information for reference; there was no other way to achieve a high result without dumping too much time into it. He wondered if that was part of a hidden agenda … throw cadets into the deep end and have them work out ways of coping or finding shortcuts to achieve the goal.
The task from Chief Richelieu for military history, space history, and mech history had no other explanation; it was illogical to spend a thousand hours on it.
If Chief Tau was interesting, the next chief – Chief Holmes, an English lady – was highly intriguing. She spoke with the plum-in-the-mouth accent that all English aristocrats seemed to adopt. It was a contrast that she was teaching philosophy. Daedo would have expected an old Chinese wise man, not a woman in her thirties. She did seem old to Daedo, just not as old as a white-bearded Chinese wise man.
Philosophy addressed how a person thought, and Daedo noticed that the courses were not distinct from other subjects; they flowed into one another. From the science of the brain to different cultural methods of viewing the world and problems, to problem-solving and strategy and back to thinking inside and outside the box. Philosophy had psychological elements and scientific and spiritual teachings. The cadet was to use this subject as a source of information to grow. There were no tests, ranking or grading for philosophy.
“Beauty,” Barran said all too loudly.
The lecture was wrapped up, and there was a small break before tech and AI.
“I can’t believe our luck. I was dying with reference, and then philosophy comes along and has no assignments or tests – you can’t beat that … not even behavioural beats that!” Barran expounded.
“It’s an important subject,” Vannier said.
“Why?” Gaumont asked, but not in a confrontational way.
“Ah, because strategy,” Vannier said lamely.
Daedo thought about being quiet, but things had been going so well with his squadmates, that he threw caution to the wind and decided to say what he thought. “It is the most important subject in the academy,” he said dramatically.
“Wha …?” “Gunnery, piloting?” “Huh … there’s no test!” came the varied responses from the others in his squad.
“Why do you say that?” Mace asked. She looked at him, intrigued, her white hair accentuating her piercing blue eyes.
“For one, it is so important that it does not need a test, grades, or a rank to earn your attention,” he told them. “That is a test in itself. You study it because you need to. Because it will improve your combat performance, engineering, research, AI-nurturing, and behavioural skills.”
“But … but … there is so much work in reference,” Gaumont said. “Is it not like a payback in time not to spend any on philosophy?”
“That is a test as well. Your time would be better spent on philosophy, not reference,” Daedo said.
“But how will we pass, let alone score highly in reference?” Vannier asked.
Axel-Zero said nothing. She just looked from Vannier to Daedo, hanging on every word. Picard would probably just work herself to death trying to do everything inefficiently.
“Your AI,” Daedo said.
“But, wouldn’t that be cheating?” Barran asked.
“Even if it was allowed, and your AI learned mil history, how does that help you learn from the mistakes of the past?” Vannier asked.
“I get it,” Mace interrupted. “You use your AI to do most of the work in mil history. It’s not cheating – there is nothing that says you can’t. And you just study a very small amount. The AI can bring examples of previous mistakes or master strokes to light when it recognises history repeating itself. You are using your AI as your second brain.”
“But what you’re suggesting means that you have to have your AI at a high level of competency and symbioses in order to do this,” Mace said.
Daedo rewarded Mace with a rare smile. Picard did as well.
“I have an off-the-shelf Svarski AI,” Barran said. “Will it be able to do that?”
“Of course,” Daedo said. “It’s all about the training and direction you give it.”
“But yours is better?” Barran asked.
Daedo nodded.
No one doubted him this time.
“How much?” Barran asked.
“There is no amount of creds you can offer me to make me give it to you,” Daedo teased.
“Oh, I’m not sure about that – you are poor, after all,” Barran said disparagingly.
“Okay then,” Daedo said, “if I sell it to you, will it purchase me a better academy ranking?”
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“Ah … uh …” Barran spluttered. “That’s probably hideously expensive even if it is obtainable.”
The next chief took the dais.
Daedo said, “Then if I give it to you and you perform better in squad combat, will that help me achieve a better ranking?”
Barran thought about it. He had only skimmed the academy guidelines and orientation. “Uh … yes?” he guessed.
“You don’t seem convinced, but, we’re out of time,” Daedo said. “If it improves your performance during squad combat competitions, it will improve our rankings dramatically. So that answers the previous question.”
Barran looked around the group. “I’m confused.”
“He said you can have it,” Axel-Zero interpreted for Barran.
“Oh,” Barran mouthed. He wasn’t stupid, it was just hard for him to relate to being given something so valuable.
Chief Elliot was a Research Mech Engineer from Fortescue. In his role at the academy, he would deliver information on equipment available to a mech pilot – from energy sources to weapons, mech parts, alloys, and cybernetic implants. It was a broad-ranging subject touching on many disciplines. A cadet could take further studies on a number of those disciplines in U1 to U3. The testing in that subject was straightforward; it would be a practical project each term where the cadet delivered a tuned, improved, or developed part.
Axel-Zero leaned in close to whisper to Daedo, even though she could have easily sent a text message. “If we developed something, would Fortescue want to keep it? I’m sure my parents would not be comfortable with that.”
“Then patent it before handing it in,” he said quietly.
She nodded slowly, a serious look on her face.
Chief Cleo took the stand. She had dark hair in a bob similar to Axel-Zero. The chiefs did not wear house colours, but Cleo looked like she was in Thoth due to her white bodysuit.
“An AI can save your life,” she began. “It can be the difference between winning the battle or dying. It can increase your productivity with nearly every task, and if it has been nurtured properly, the factor can more than tenfold. If you ever pilot in space, the AI can be your navigational computer and serve as failsafe monitoring on your life support systems.
“Even with the best products available, AIs take years to build and nurture, and if you do not raise them properly, they will be useless. They can get lost in perpetual loops playing an unwinnable game or trying to solve an impossible problem by watching every vid and reading every article on the net. An AI is like your pet, your companion, and an alter you all in one. Like a sharp sword, they have two edges, and you need to be careful that you do not harm yourself. A mismanaged AI can render you unconscious, and that can happen at any time.
“During this class, we will walk you through the initial steps and monitor those steps very closely, as they are the most critical.”
Chief Cleo had clearly impressed upon them how important and dangerous AIs were.
It was in Barran’s nature to throw caution to the wind, and Picard placed her trust in Daedo for her own reasons. No one else requested the bespoke AI; Chief Cleo had scared them off.
Daedo had a different concern. It was becoming apparent that hiding Myrmidon would not be easy, not if Chief Cleo and her AI and robots were checking his progress regularly. He began to think of a strategy or method to overcome this issue.
Daedo: It won’t be easy to hide you.
Myrmidon: I don’t want to hide. Can’t we just not show up, like CyberMech matches we didn’t want to play in?
Daedo: No, if we don’t attend they will still want to monitor the birthing process. But, this time we will be alone, and they may be suspicious. It’s best if we hide you amongst the crowd.
Myrmidon: Will we change the security protocols in my foundation code?
Daedo: No, it’s too late. We can’t make changes to you without major damage to what you have learned and who you have become. You aren’t that foundation anymore, you are the product of all the time we have spent together.
Myrmidon: Do you think that will fool their search? The priority of checking an AI will be checking the security protocols.
Daedo: They won’t expect it. No one rewrites the core code; they use free programs or buy ones from the companies. These all have the security protocols in place. And they will test your response, not the actual code. You must respond correctly. Myrmidon - find some tests online and let’s work out how you need to respond.
Myrmidon: Okay. There is another problem you raised - I no longer resemble my foundation. How can I appear as a new baby AI?
Daedo: We could place the real you into a hidden compartment, a shell. And put out a foundation that looks like the others for them to inspect. You will have to simulate everything pretending to be the fake foundation.
Myrmidon: If our squadmates Barran and Picard have a small foundation, now there will be three to examine, and although we added the strict security protocols to their AI, it is still small.
Daedo: We should add in lines of text to simulate the bloated open source foundations I have seen. This might pass a cursory inspection, so they aren’t on the lookout for a rewritten code with me as the source. What is the average size of the open source foundations available?
Myrmidon: 1,490 million bytes.
Daedo: Can you rip out fourteen hundred million bytes of data, convert to text, and hide the core within that?
Myrmidon: It is only text, but it is still taking up space in the central processor cache.
Daedo: We can remove it later. And it won’t be any worse than most available. I wish I knew the size of Svarski’s.
Myrmidon: We don’t know the size of the source code, but we can make an estimate from the size of the compiled foundation.
Daedo: How large is that and what is the estimate?
Myrmidon: Seven hundred million to eight hundred million bytes.
Daedo: What about DaVinci?
Myrmidon: 850 million bytes.
Daedo: Okay, let’s pump them out to 850 million bytes, not fourteen hundred. That way, they’ll have a significant advantage even before we delete the camouflage text.
Myrmidon: Consider it done. I will start working a facsimile core code now.
Daedo: I just had an idea. If you were compiled like Svarski, they could not read the source code – they would just run simulations to test that the security measures are in place. We’ve been concerned with source code size, but if we compiled and compressed it like the companies do, the code would be encrypted. We could even attempt to falsify the file size.
Myrmidon: This is why I like you. You think of innovative ways to solve problems that I still cannot.
Daedo: Actually, it was rather stupid of me that I didn’t have this idea before. And don’t sell yourself short; you see the problems coming from a long way off. You are indispensable to me now. I could not live without you.
Myrmidon: I will research a way to falsify file size. We will compile their code using a standard application that can be manipulated. But what about me?
Daedo: The raw source is more efficient than the compressed file, and it is too late in your case. We will pretend I used open source and come clean to all activity that’s not illegal. I will have to get approval from Dad though, and I will await your report on legalities we might run afoul of. We don’t have much time now. Perhaps just a few days.
While his squadmates ate lunch, Daedo put on his helmet and drafted a letter to his father explaining the AI situation, how that he’d been working on it for years and needed his help with acknowledging permission. As usual, he made no mention of removing security protocols.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned on his external camera to see Axel-Zero with a plate of food for him. “Thanks, I’m starving,” he said.
“What are you working on?” she asked.
“The AIs. I need to ensure they meet every registration requirement and law. The laws are quite strict about them.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to look up what we signed in terms of rights over inventions during our attendance at the academy.”
Daedo nodded. “Let me know what you find.”
“I will. I’ll stop bugging you now. Don’t forget to eat,” she said.
“Hold on,” he said and took off his helmet to eat. “I’m done with that section.” He had already finished the letter to his father.
As they sat together, Jules Axel and three other cadets came over to their table.
“Pascale, look who wanted to see you when he heard you were in Squad Zero of Thoth,” Jules said.
“You have to call me Axel-Zero, Axel-Eleven,” she said and looked at her brother’s companions. They were not in Thoth, but she did know two of them – Alfred Almeras and Belise Marais, who both had zeros on their Osiris-coloured bodysuits, with deep green epaulettes that contrasted with the pure white bodysuit.
“Axel-Zero, is it?” Almeras asked although he must have known. He was almost as tall as Barran, had an olive complexion and dark, close-cropped hair. His eyes were brown and he looked at Axel-Zero as if she were prey.
“Mm-hmm,” she said. “And this is Daedo.”
Almeras briefly looked at Daedo, noting the boy’s size and frame and dismissed him with a look. Daedo thought this was strange. What did size have to do with being a deadly mech pilot?
“Look,” Almeras said, “We won’t give you a hard time since you’re in Thoth. I was hoping Jules would have been in the same house as us, but I guess you stuffed it for him.”
Axel-Zero bristled. “Excuse me? Why would us being in Thoth stop you from giving me a hard time?”
Almeras smirked. “Everyone knows Thoth is just a bunch of engineers and math nuts. In the end, we’ll need your skills to build us the best mechs, but as far as competition goes …” He shrugged.
Axel-Zero laughed, while her brother looked confused.
Daedo had finished eating and asked, “Why are you here?”
He just got dumb looks from Almeras, Belise, and their third companion before Almeras gathered his thoughts and snapped, “We go where we want.”
“I suppose you can with certain limitations, but that doesn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” Daedo asked again.
Belise rolled her eyes. “He just told you we go where we please. Are you a retard?”
“I really do have trouble talking to meatheads,” Daedo said, deadpan. “Let me rephrase: Are you here for a reason? Because ever since Axel-Eleven introduced you, all you’ve done is insult us. So we can only presume the reason you are here is to insult us. I was asking in case you had another reason.”
Axel-Zero laughed again. She was enjoying the way Daedo took them down and didn’t take their crap. At that moment, Barran, Vannier, Picard and Mace arrived at their table.
Almeras didn’t look unnerved or worried about the new members of Thoth Squad Zero. “You guys aren’t even worth my time,” he said before turning and walking off.
“Agreed,” Daedo said just loud enough for Axel-Zero and her brother to hear.
“Sorry,” she said to Daedo.
“Why?” he asked.
“For attracting meatheads,” she said, laughing again. It was such a childish term but it suited the opposition perfectly.