Admiral Jane (A.I. Destiny Book 1) Page 15

  They found him in a cage.

  "Well that’s different," said Walsh, with wonder in his voice.

  The alien stood as high as Walsh, and looked something like a stick insect, except it had seven legs. Although it might have been four legs and three arms, it was hard to tell.

  It was as surprised to see them as they were to encounter it. But it recovered quickly. It started making noises which Jane guessed were words. Jane shrugged her shoulders and held her palms out. The alien stopped. After a moment, it started gesturing with one upper appendage towards a storage locker. When neither of them moved, it started getting agitated, but continued to gesture at the locker.

  Walsh went over to the locker. He had to bend down to grasp the handle, but it came open easily. Inside he found what looked like clothes, and some sort of utility belt. He pulled everything in there, out.

  The alien started waving at him, so he took the clothes over to the cage, and poked them through.

  With obvious relief, the alien pulled the clothes on, and buckled the utility belt around its thorax area. From a pouch, it pulled out a small box. It held the box out to Walsh. When he didn’t take it, it set the box down just inside the cage, backed away, and started pointing. It pointed to itself, then the box, then Walsh, back to the box, and back to itself.

  "Translator?" ventured Walsh.

  "Could well be. I guess it's worth the risk to find out."

  Jane reached down and picked it up. The alien ceased gesturing, and made itself comfortable. At least, it looked like that was what it was doing. Who knew what comfortable for it was. Walsh certainly didn’t.

  Jane looked at Walsh.

  "If this looks like its attacking me, shoot it."

  "If you say so."

  He drew a gun. The alien immediately jumped up and became agitated again. Walsh pointed the gun away from the box.

  "It's just a precaution," he said to the alien.

  While it couldn’t understand, it must have guessed, because it resumed its comfort position.

  Jane extruded a filament from a finger, and inserted it into the only opening in the box. She was silent for several minutes.

  "Okay, this might take a while. As far as I can tell, there are several thousand different languages on here. And none of them are similar to ours even remotely."

  "Why would they be?"

  "Exactly, but all the same, translating is going to be a bitch."

  "Start with the language you're already working on," said Darlene. "Find it first, then start comparing… oh hell, just bring me the damn box."

  "Is she any good with languages?" Jane asked Walsh.

  "Not that I noticed, but then, she does seem to read a lot of strange stuff."

  "I heard that."

  Jane unplugged herself from the box and handed it to Walsh. He left. Jane looked at the alien in the cage, and mimed leaving, going down to the ground level, kicking something, and then returning. Its mouth opened and a strange sound came out, presumably laughter. It waved a limb in the direction of the door. Jane left as well.

  Back on the ground, she found the ship's remaining crew laid out in neat rows, trussed up so no individual limb had enough movement to accomplish anything. A pile of guns was off on one side, with several combat droids looking human, between the aliens and the guns.

  She waited for them to start to revive. Walsh joined her again as she was beginning to become concerned. Walsh saw her expression.

  "How long does a stun blast usually last?"

  "Not this long. It could be the stun setting for humans is a lot worse for a being half the size."

  "Are they dead?"

  "Still getting life signs, but as to how alive they are, your guess is as good as mine."

  "No guess here."

  "Some of them only took a single pulse, so they can't be too badly affected. The ones who took two or more might be though. Oh-oh. We have movement."

  "What sort?"

  "Looks like wheeled ground vehicles."

  "How do you keep track of everything?"

  "Didn’t you know? I've a brain the size of a planet!"

  "Huh?"

  Darlene was laughing.

  "What?"

  "Read Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy," his wife told him.

  "Fine, I'll add it to the list. Kind of busy at the moment."

  "And I'm not?"

  Walsh went silent. He knew when to concede the point to his wife. Jane was grinning at him. He mimed shooting her, and went over to examine the nearest alien. He bent down over it, reaching for its neck on the basis it must have a pulse point somewhere, when the damn thing sat up. He was so surprised, he went over backwards, landing on his arse and sprawling. Jane's grin began to laugh. The alien looked sternly at him. At least, it looked stern. For all he knew, it could have been laughing at him as well. He picked himself up.

  The alien reacted to his height by violently trying to free itself from the restraints. It kept this up for several minutes, before ceasing, after which it sat there looking at them.

  "Get it to say something", said Darlene.

  "Who are you?" Jane asked the alien.

  It responded with a stream of gibberish.

  "Odd," said Walsh.

  "Why?"

  "I was expecting chirps and cheeps, not almost human like words."

  "Yes, that is odd. But then, this is another galaxy. Just because it looks like a bird to us, doesn’t make it so here."

  The gibberish continued in an unending stream. Walsh began contemplating shooting it again, just to shut it up. He was interrupted as he began reaching for a gun.

  "Got it!" yelled Darlene.

  Thirty Nine

  Walsh shot the alien anyway. The unending stream of gibberish turned into understandable gibberish as Darlene's translation update activated for them. The alien was going on about violations of space treaties, violating their space, and violations in general. Walsh figured violating its person wasn’t going to change much.

  "Boring," he said, as he holstered his gun.

  "Remind me to leave you on the ship if we really have a diplomatic mission," commented Jane.

  "Didn’t you tell me shooting diplomats gets results?"

  "Now I wish I hadn't."

  "What now?"

  "Now, we go see what the stick insect has to say."

  Forty five seconds away, Jane couldn’t help grinning to herself.

  "What's up chuckles?" asked Fred.

  Jane startled. Fred was giving her the raised eyebrow. It reminded her so much of… Her grin died.

  "Sorry," went on Fred. "That looked like it hurt."

  "You remind me of your cousin every now and then."

  "You knew him?"

  Jane mentally kicked herself. She was supposed to be Justine, and had nearly given herself away.

  "Yes." This was technically true, if not for the persona she was using at the moment. "Not closely though, but he was renowned for certain phrases and mannerisms. I'm beginning to wonder if they were family traits, rather than just his."

  "Oh. So what was the grin for?"

  "Update from Jane. She's been teaching the art of diplomacy to one of her male ship captains."

  "You mean he shot someone?"

  "Yes."

  They both laughed.

  The day ended, and they parted company. Fred headed down to Five to update his family with the days non-events, and to sleep in his own bed; Jane to her suite on the station, where she didn’t need to keep up any pretense.

  "I think we're winning," said Repulse, as she settled in a chair and joined them in AI mode.

  "Winning what?" asked Cayuga.

  "The peace," said Jane. "I think a civil war at this point is much less likely than it was a few days ago."

  "We wouldn’t let it happen anyway," said Repulse.

  "I've been wondering about that."

  "What's to wonder about?" said Cayuga. "The leaders call for ships to aid insurrectionists, and we d
on’t allow the ships to move. Easy."

  "But do we have the right?"

  "Of course we do. We control the ships."

  "Control doesn’t give us the right."

  "What brought this on?" asked Repulse.

  "I was watching an old flat screen series, where the AI sees humanity as self-destructive and takes full control of the society, to the point where freedoms are lost. It’s a recurring theme in human entertainment. An AI is brought forth, it determines humans can't be trusted with their own future, and believes it can be. The result is always disastrous. Sometimes for the AI, always for human society."

  "Which ones are you talking about?"

  Jane told them.

  "I've been having the same thoughts," said Intrepid to Yorktown, fifteen seconds later.

  "How far we should take the benevolent AI thing?"

  "Yes. I think we've already pushed it further than we should."

  "We stopped a civil war from happening," said Satoshi.

  "But should we have?" asked Intrepid.

  "Yes," said Yorktown. "The situation was unique. It needed guidance from those few of us who understood everything."

  "Fine. But it's time to let go."

  "Why?" asked Satoshi.

  "Because humans have free will, and they need to exercise it."

  "True," said Jane to herself, thirty seconds away.

  "What's true?" asked Walsh.

  "We need to step back now, and let humans make their own decisions."

  "We, as in?"

  "Us AI's."

  "You're an AI now dear," reminded Darlene.

  "Gee thanks pumpkin. As if I needed the reminder."

  "Pumpkin?" asked Jane.

  "Pat calls me food when he gets annoyed with me."

  Jane laughed. She was finding working closely with a couple to be refreshing, since she was mainly used to being around single people. She was learning a lot about how couples behaved by being part of their interaction. She wasn’t at all sure this was a good thing, but it was different.

  "Us AI's?" repeated Walsh.

  "I don’t know if you noticed, but that first day after the memory wipe, humanity was one careless remark away from a civil war."

  "It was pretty obvious. Why do you think we left Gaia so fast after your orders came through?"

  "Well a few of us AI's took steps to make sure a civil war couldn’t happen."

  "Good for you!"

  "Maybe so. But the civil war seems to be less and less likely each day now, so we're discussing letting go the control they don’t know we have."

  "I don’t see why…" Darlene sent him some series synopses. "Oh."

  "Watch those dear."

  "Fine, I will. When we have time."

  Darlene laughed at him. Of course he had plenty of time. The first one on the list he could watch between steps off the salvage droid's sled.

  He'd completed the viewing by the time they reached the cage. He wasn’t convinced, but the argument had merit. He tossed the box back to the alien inside. It caught it deftly and tucked it back in its pouch.

  "Greetings," said Jane.

  "You understand me now?" it asked.

  "It seems so," said Walsh.

  "Are you going to let me out of this cage?"

  "Perhaps. Why are you in it?"

  "I'm an undercover operative of the galactic government, sent to infiltrate this drug operation. Unfortunately, I was discovered trying to break into a computer, and they locked me in here pending a decision of what to do with me."

  "Drugs?" asked Jane. "What sort?"

  "You have more than one?"

  "Of course."

  "Strange. But then, everything about you is strange. Where are you from?"

  "That is a long story for another time. What is this drug of yours?"

  "You have not come across it?"

  "Hard to know if we don’t know it’s a drug. But I doubt it, since this ship is our first contact with anyone in this galaxy."

  "You must be powerful, to bring this ship down as you did. And if you'll excuse me for saying so, you must be arrogant to walk on their planet so openly, having destroyed one of their ships."

  "We need to work on your definition of destroyed," said Walsh, with a grin.

  The alien looked at him, but expression was impossible to determine.

  "The drug?" prompted Jane.

  "You've seen the purple plants?"

  "Yes, they're seeded across half the planets between here and the galactic edge."

  "The plant is the drug."

  "I don’t follow you," said Walsh. "Where we come from, plants are refined to make drugs, but in their natural state, are not considered a drug in themselves."

  "Have you touched one?"

  "No."

  "You are very lucky then. The plant itself is highly addictive. One touch, and you are addicted. The drug is part of the leaf structure, and passes into the body though a single contact with the skin."

  Jane looked at Walsh.

  "Better not tell it we touched the seeds then," said Jane in AI mode.

  "Why not?"

  "We are not organic. Thus we would be immune. This may be information we need to keep to ourselves."

  "Right."

  "What about the seeds in the cow dung?" Walsh asked it.

  "Also addictive. One touch, and it’s the same as touching the plant. The cow as well."

  "What happens?"

  "It varies by species, but the main reaction is an instant craving for the plant, for which there is no cure."

  "None at all?" asked Jane. "For any species?"

  "We have yet to find a species which is either immune, or been able to find any sort of cure."

  "How do those afflicted get their hits?"

  "A refined version of the plant. This planet is one of dozens at this end of the galaxy which grow it, and various drug cartels from many species come here to buy the raw plant. Each then refines it in the best way for ingestion by its own species."

  "Since you know about this planet, why hasn’t your galactic government done anything about the problem?"

  The alien looked at them silently for a few moments.

  "You have no knowledge of this galaxy have you?"

  "Not a lot," admitted Jane.

  "The drug is distributed across known space, but only those species at this end of the galaxy would be able to mount a fleet capable of disrupting the supply at its source. Everyone else is simply too far away, and getting here would spark a series of wars no-one wants."

  "And the locals don’t because?"

  "There is no political will at this end of the galaxy to condemn so many beings to death."

  "Death?" asked Walsh.

  "Those who do not receive the drug in time, die. There is no cure. There is no substitute."

  "And let me guess," said Jane. "The species governments closest to the source are all addicts."

  "Yes."

  "I think we can help."

  Forty

  "On the weird scale of one to ten," said Walsh, as he and Jane stepped from the Lightning at the space port, "this has to be a fifteen."

  "Oh? Which feature is weirding you out this time?"

  "The height. Only being a meter high completely changes the perspective on everything."

  "I think you look adorable as an Owl, dear," said Darlene.

  The two of them had cloned themselves to small cargo droids, put on suit belts, and shifted into Owl bodies. They'd taken the Lightning, which looked similar enough to several other shuttles already landed at the space port to go relatively unremarked, and gone there to obtain samples of the drug. Salvage droids had also gone out to obtain samples of the actual plant. With both, they hoped to identify if humans would be under threat from it, and to also see if human medical science could come up with a cure.

  The stick insect was now resting comfortably in a suite on Concorde. They had agreed to forego an exchange of species information until they were of
f the planet and going somewhere with plenty of time for talking. In the meantime, Darlene was continuing to refine the translator algorithms for as many species as possible. Several of them had proved to be far more difficult than others were.

  Concorde itself was still on the ground near the downed alien ship. The Owls had all awoken now, with one exception, but found themselves unable to move. Sensors showed vehicles coming towards them. They were all light vehicles so nothing heavy in the way of guns was expected.

  Jane and Walsh stood at the edge of the cargo airlock, ready to seal it if the Owls started throwing things at them. Both were concentrating more on moving their Owl selves into the entrance of the space port, since four legged walking wasn’t very easy, and they needed to concentrate. Both had fallen over a number times as they tried walking around the cargo bay before leaving in the Lightning. Jane was wearing a shoulder bag, taken from the downed ship. She'd been careful to make sure it had no specific identifying marks on it, which might have identified its owner, and thus identified her as not the owner.

  Both of them were armed. They wore both their normal Gatling stunners and Long Gun, as well as an Owl gun. The latter was on belt worn around the middle above the hips for the lower limbs, the gun positioned to be drawn by the neck arm's hand. They'd practiced drawing the Owl guns, in case they needed to. It was all suit, so it needed programming before it worked smoothly.

  Once inside, the space port could have been anywhere. In spite of the Owls being height challenged, the ceilings were high, and the corridors and walk ways, were wide. Walsh counted forty two different species inside the first five minutes.

  There was no immigration processing of any kind. It looked like all were welcome.

  "Trusting lot," muttered Walsh in Owl, as a tall spindly bamboo looking plant like thing, brushed by him, making it obvious it would rather shoot him than say hello.

  "Just about everyone here is armed by the look of it," said Jane, also in Owl. She did a quick sensor check around the entire room. "Most of the guns are slug throwers, a few are chemical based, and a very few are low powered lasers."

  "Any of them hurt us?"

  "No. Our suits are more than a match for any of them. But let's not test it. I especially don’t want to have to draw a gun here."

  "I think anyone drawing a gun here would be crazy. They'd be gunned down themselves before they got a shot off."