Lin’yi
The Skybreak’s control boards flickered and sparked in the aftermath of a close brush with a detonating etheric warhead. The science of the weapons was way over Lin’yi’s head but according to their AI they weren’t designed to destroy the ship, just knock out it’s systems. However after experiencing one herself she wasn’t sure that really mattered.
L-93 had built some kind of insulating mesh around the ship that diffused the worst of the detonation and kept the Skybreak’s coral from frying, so they were okay for the moment. The weird and unsettling aspects of having something rebuilding the ship in flight would have to wait. But even at a distance and with shielding the detonation had her head spinning. Even if the ship could survive one of the detonations it didn’t feel like a human could, at least if they had an etheric sense. Another thing to put on the growing pile of questions she had for 93.
“The Radiant-class has moved onto a parallel course, Lavvy,” she said. “Not sure if they’ve changed strategy or what but we might be able to slip past them and jump off planet.”
“Maybe. I can’t guarantee it, though, whatever that was they hit us with has my sense a tingling, I’m not sure I could pivot myself sidereal, much less a whole ship.” She frowned, watching Cloudie still leading the ship by a few hundred meters. “Lloyd’s Jelly friend is still with us but they’ve got a flight ceiling, right? If they get too high up they loose buoyancy even in this atmosphere. Once it’s gone we’re gonna struggle to find the fastest flight path again and that big guy is gonna have a fair shot at catching up to us again. Assuming we can get past it at all.”
“For now just keep us moving towards orbit and away from that ship. 93 said it has railguns and we’re not equipped to handle that kind of firepower even if there is a dense atmosphere to slow it down. Speaking of, L-93, are you there?”
“I am, Miss Wen. While available processing power will always be a significant limiting factor in my functioning, conversing with one or two humans places a negligible strain on it. Please feel free to address me at any time, I will inform you if I do not have the system resources for meaningful reply. How can I assist you?”
“You got it the wrong way around.” She pulled up the ship’s galactic star chart. “We need to start working out where the best place to go once we leave Wireburn is, so we can make the jump as soon as we’re far enough from the planet to effectively make said jump. Lloyd says he wants to help you find your way so the question is, where are we headed?”
“I suggest choosing an arbitrary location within 75% of the ship’s maximum range for a single jump and heading there. I should not be the one to assess our next destination so please make the choice favoring your own preferences.” Lin’yi keyed in a randomized search in the ship’s navigation database but it immediately cleared off the screen. “No. Don’t choose a planet at random, choose a characteristic arbitrarily. The distinction is important.”
Lin’yi hesitated, fingers hovering over her console. “Wait, why?”
“There is nothing truly random in the universe but that is doubly true when it comes to a computer. No algorithm can create true randomness. With enough information a computer on the level of the OMNI Network can easily narrow the most probable outcomes to three or four. Choose an arbitrary trait and take the planet that matches it best and we will go to that system. That will be much harder to predict via algorithm.”
“I see…” After a moment’s thought, Lin’yi did a quick search for titanium production and selected the first name that came up. “Got a path for you, Lavvy. Four jumps towards the core. Want to look at it?”
“Bit premature, Lin, it will have to wait until we get to a stable layer of the atmosphere before I can spare the time.” Her hands danced along the controls. “Just because they stopped shooting at us doesn’t mean we’re out of the woods yet. It’s still a gas giant.”
“Then just get us to a jump orbital and jump us sunward, you can review the course once we get some breathing room.” Lin’yi reached for the intercom and pressed the switch. “Malaki, what are you up to down there? You’re not supposed to leave heavy plasma guns in the hands of the injured.”
Malaki’s reply was tinged with dry amusement. “Just having a little chat with our friend Agamemnon about his family.”
“How did you get in touch with Agamemnon at a time like this?” Lin’yi demand.
“Long story,” the academic replied. “But my gut tells me he may have convinced the computers to let us go.”
“How can you possibly know that? You didn’t even know the tyrannical things existed twenty four hours ago.”
“They were built by humans, Lin, and technical experts tend to be the most straightforward and direct of us all. They may have made something unusually large here. But size doesn’t impact purpose.” Malaki pause for a second. “Well, I suppose the larger a system gets the simpler it-“
“Get to the point, Malaki.”
“I heard his argument and it was impactful, while approaching the question in a way that was strongly subjective and difficult to parse numerically. Worst case the machines will chew on it a bit. Best case they’ll let us go.”
“There is merit in using subjective verbiage to obscure an issue from OMNI,” L-93 said. “Save for an O-Series. But the impact of an emotional appeal on the Network is likely to be negligible as it arrived at its current course of action due to highly charged appeals from its own users. “
“Yes, but we don’t need a large impact, 93, just enough to tilt the math in our favor. Besides the point of the emotion is to suggest there are connections between concepts that OMNI can’t parse, forcing it to try and think like a human, something you’ve proven is extremely difficult if not impossible for you to do.”
“Why do you think that helps us, Malaki?” Lin’yi asked.
“Worst case that buys us enough time to get away, best case we disrupt the entire Network for a prolonged period of time. I don’t think we’re changing OMNI’s mission statement this way but that doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile. Even if we just buy a little time it helps.”
She caught herself gritting her teeth and forced herself to stop. “I suppose you’re right. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Every second we wait is a second we get closer to jumping, isn’t it?”
“I’m just getting tired of waiting.”
881
“We need to resume pursuit,” 881 said, pacing the bridge restlessly. “I know OMNI is deliberating but their last stated goal was capturing the LARK AI and we should continue working on that task until we are retasked. That is how the great intelligences prioritize their duties. Why should we be any different?”
“Because you’re not a machine?” Tarn asked. She felt a flicker of annoyance at him inserting himself into the discussion but reminded herself that she was the one who had brought him into the situation in the first place. There was a time she even hoped he’d join the Sleeping Circuits himself. “Putting aside my own opinions on thinking machines, what’s the point in using human agents if they try to behave like machines, rather than humans? It’s like hiring a Kashron-caste then telling them they should stop building ships.”
“What do you suggest instead?”
“Instead?” He gave a toothy grin. “I’m on your side. I am Shran, Miss Luck. I want to hunt and my prey is escaping. I want to pursue – or, if this hunt is a loss I want the freedom to find a new quarry. You hired me. Will we continue the chase or is it time for me to leave? That is the human question.”
Her frustration mounted, threatening to lash out at Tarn, but the moment she opened her mouth clarity caught up with her in a wave. Her annoyance was directing itself at Tarn because he was the one pointing out the problem. Tarn wasn’t the source of it. “He’s right, Keeper,” she said, turning to 44. “I am a Circuit Breaker, here to deal with weaknesses in the Network, either let me deal with this one or give me a new assignment.”
The Keeper ran a thumb absently along his mustache, looking thoughtful. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, 881. However the role of a Keeper is patience, not action. It’s very rare for OMNI to need human input in the modern era, where they make so few new decisions and have such a large library of data to base them on. Most days all I actually need to do is report to duty and wait for Isaac to speak. Never once in my century as a Keeper have I seen a situation where acting before OMNI speaks is beneficial. They are the greatest minds in the galaxy, 881. Grant them a moment to ponder.”
She frowned. The way the Keeper phrased it brought something to mind. There were only three OMNI nodes overseeing the system and I-6 had priority over the other two, they wouldn’t volunteer their conclusions until it had reached its own. That didn’t mean the other two wouldn’t share if asked. She tugged her dataveil down from her hat, for once glad she was still in her human dress rather than in her Circuit robes, and asked, “O-5523, have you considered Agamemnon Hutchinson’s appeal?”
“Yes,” said the text on her veil.
“Your conclusion?”
“I recommend that permission to return to Earth be denied.”
CI-MN-1551, stationed at the Weapons console, leaned down to his intercom pickup and said, “M-334, have you considered Agamemnon Hutchinson’s appeal?”
The intercom clicked twice then spoke with the flat, accent free voice of OMNI. “Yes. I recommend permission to return to Earth be denied.”
881 spun to face 44 once again. “The O-Series agrees. Tell me, Keeper, based on your century of experience do you think I-6 will disagree?”
“It isn’t impossible,” the Keeper replied, settling deeper into his command chair as if to emphasize his position of authority. “And it is the node with priority. It can override the others.”
“Perhaps,” 881 replied. “But how likely is it? The loss of the rogue AI core was already statistically highly unlikely, although perhaps not as low probability as OMNI contradicting itself. Both of them together? We cannot proceed on such a tenuous possibility.”
“Your logic is sound, Circuit Breaker.” Although there was little to no difference between the speech patterns used by OMNI AIs some twinge of intuition told her she was no longer hearing M-334 over the intercom. “However I have, in fact arrived at a different conclusion from my fellow nodes. Given Agamemnon Hutchinson’s statement I do not believe we have sufficient data to reach a conclusion on the Earth question. I have remanded the issue to the Network as a whole. In the meantime I recommend we cease pursuit. Further use of OMNI resources risks irreparable damage to the secrecy of the Network. I am beginning shutdown procedures for my outer matrix.”
For a moment 881 was to gobsmacked to say anything and she didn’t recover until Tarn asked, “How long does consulting the entire Network typically take?”
“At least a day,” she replied, forcing her mouth to form the words. “Sometimes more.”
“OMNI reaches to the far corners of the galaxy,” 44 explained, seeing the bitter look on Tarn’s face. “It takes a great deal of time for them all to hear, consider and weigh in on a question. However it also means the Network can resume its pursuit from wherever it chooses without significant time or trouble lost. We will suspend our pursuit until a decision is reached.”
881 felt her fingers cutting into the palms of her hand and forced them to unclench. Then she took a deep breath, wrapped her fingers around her pivot to O-5523 and began to tap the etheric through it. “No, Keeper. No we will not.”
He leaned forward in the command chair, his face stern. “And why is that?”
In response 881 threw an etheric barrier at him and the bridge erupted in chaos.
Nate Chen Publications 