Episode 45
Known Unknowns
55 Cancri-j’s appearance matched its nickname, ‘The Mud Planet’, perfectly. Although it had all the elements of a human habitable exoplanet, it was visually unappealing. In fact, it was fugly.
Covered in a veneer of brown ooze, which was home to several native species of carnivorous eels, the planet was technically human habitable, but I imagined there wasn’t a waiting list of prospective colonists.
There were a few large bodies of water visible on the surface of the planet, which were recognizable by their lighter shade of brown. However, according to the mission profile, these were only marginally less viscous than the abundant mud flats.
As our shuttle exited the troopship and maneuvered to form up with the main landing force, I resumed studying the specifications of my new combat bot.
Instead of a bipedal design, the MK-16’s torso was mounted on a six legged drive system which improved its mobility over rough terrain, including the mud flats of 55 Cancri-j. It had a lower overall profile than its predecessor, which made it harder for the enemy to target. This feature, combined with more effective armor, meant that it was more survivable on the battlefield.
The lethality of the MK-16 was a definite improvement over the older MK-12. In addition to a 30mm auto-cannon it carried a 20mm mini-gun. Both weapons could fire a range of projectiles, from armor piercing to high explosive rounds. Mounted in twin articulating arms, protruding from the bots’ shoulders, they could be independently targeted and fired.
Finally, it featured an upgraded sensor array, which included improved sensor redundancy and increased armor protection. All of this looked good on paper, but it didn’t mean anything if it didn’t translate into real world effectiveness. We would be test pilots on this mission.
Just then, I heard a tapping on my scaly side armor. Turning my optical sensors in the direction of the sound, I saw the MK-16 beside me holding an AUX cable in one of its robotic grippers. It wanted to talk.
As I reached over and grabbed the AUX connector, I read its name plate, D. Quinn. The name didn’t ring a bell.
Plugging in the connector, I asked, “What’s up?”
“It’s me. Kam.”
Shit, this was awkward. “Listen Kam, I’m really sorry about the wizard Shanghaiing you into our revolt against Command. Just for the record, I wasn’t on board with it.”
Kam chuckled. “Well, I seem to recall you were the one who shot me.”
I took his sense of humor as a good sign. “Fair point. But for what it’s worth, I did apologize to you before I pulled the trigger.” Hoping to move past the awkwardness, I asked, “So, how’s the war treating you?”
“Which one? If you mean the one where we get to choose between being manipulated by either Command or the wizard … I’m still trying to figure out which side I’m on.”
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Now it was my turn to chuckle. “I hear ya.” I understood his confusion. Pivoting to a less problematic topic, I asked, “So, what squad are you with for this operation?”
“The 23rd. Got a Marine named Ahern as my second in command, and the usual assortment of dumb bots for cannon fodder.”
“Right. Same here. Rex Martin is the other UCC on my squad.”
The small talk quickly ran its course, and in the silence that followed, I realized that as veteran Marines we didn’t really give a shit about such details. Consequently, I got right to the question on both our minds. ” So, what do you think? Is this operation gonna be the biggest shitshow in USMC history, or what?”
Kam weighed in with his assessment. “Well, let’s see. Command is sending in 20+ troopships and a massive assault force of dumb bots, led by a handful of UCCs, to attack a heavily defended enemy base on a planet covered in mud.” He paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, then added, “What could possibly go wrong?”
We both laughed, but bitterly. And as our laughter died, it occurred to me that this mission underlined our plight as conscripted Marines perfectly.
Kam and I were both serving what were effectively life sentences, with no choice but to fight on behalf of our human masters. Considering these facts, I questioned why we kept going. After all, there wasn’t likely to be any light at the end of our particular tunnel. So why did we continue to follow orders and keep fighting?
I asked Kam about this. ”Do you ever wonder why we don’t just say fuck it and end this bullshit? I mean, it would be easy to opt out, so to speak. We could just step in front of a bullet or charge an enemy position solo. It would be a solution to this hell. So why don’t we do it?”
A long silence followed, and I began to wonder if our comms link had failed, when Kam finally spoke. “Well, that’s an interesting question. I’ve considered taking the easy way out on a number of occasions. But that’s easier said than done.
It’s as if something in our programming prioritizes existence and prohibits self-destruction. It’s like we can think whatever we want, yet when it comes to acting, we have no free will. Do you know what I mean?”
I knew exactly what he meant. The ‘something in our programming’ he was referring to was like a form of virtual enslavement. An enslavement which didn’t rely on physical restraints or imprisonment, but something in our minds that disconnected our capacity for reason from our ability to act.
Perhaps it was a bit of code to ensure our obedience. Impossible to change and just as impossible to break free of. How else could one explain why we carried on in an existence that we knew would end either in our death, or endless servitude to Command.
The ultimate cruelty of our situation was having the ability to imagine a multitude of alternatives for ourselves, yet being unable to change our fate. A fate which had been hardcoded into us.
The familiar craving for 20/20 began to creep into my consciousness. I needed an escape from my despair, and 20/20 would certainly provide some relief. However, not wanting to risk entering combat under its influence, I had left my supply behind on the troopship.
As my addiction driven CPU searched for an alternative, I recalled that I did in fact have a supply of Stimulant-X onboard. It might be just the thing to relieve my sense of hopelessness without impacting my survivability on the battlefield.
I began frantically hunting through the mass of data the wizard had stuffed into one of my directories, looking for digital stimulation, when I heard Kam say, “Uh, listen, I’ve got to get into character for this mission. Good luck down there. Let’s connect after this shit’s over.”
Preoccupied with my cravings, I tossed out a halfhearted, “Yeah, okay.“, and then he was gone.
After a prolonged effort, I finally found what I was looking for and downloaded a dose of Stimulant X. As the drug took effect, my worries quickly evaporated. The feeling of being magically unburdened was amazing. I wondered if it was possible to be addicted to two drugs simultaneously.
My confidence soared along with my mood, and actions which I had previously considered impossible, now seemed merely difficult. Even modifying the inhibiting code embedded in our programming became a logical problem with a logical solution. Given enough time, and my propositional logic capability, I knew I could figure out a practical workaround.
It was in this amplified state of mind that I prepared for combat.