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2/16/2017 7:05:27 AM
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Ratterson's Recollection (part 3)

As we ran, I sent information requests fobbing Belisarius' authorizations, and began snooping through the packets in the local network. One of them caught my eye. AI/COM/NPLN: OBESCIENCE, VIKING PYRE. Initiate, announce initiation on wide channels. All local asset compliance. I still wish I was better at swearing. "It's Napoleon. It's jamming the comms. OBESCIENCE, VIKING PYRE had better not be what I think it is." I sent to Belisarus. Immediately, it replied "Sacrifice war assets to prove loyalty." Our last light cast into the void, and nothing but darkness after. "Can you stop it?" I asked. "No. And I'm in the middle of exobytes of data running a simulation of another Warmind. Best guess scenario is Napoleon determined our only chance of survival is to bow down and worship that thing. Currently re-imagining your escape plan." I was half-way to asking Belisarius why as I put the coat on. As it fell on my shoulders, I realized what Viking Pyre referred to. "Napoleon is going to destroy the fleet." I said aloud. "What?" Kyrea asked, next to me. "I've been snooping in the local sub-comms, the ones the onboard AI's use to communicate between devices. There's a directive from Napoleon, saying 'obeisance, Viking pyre." I told her. "Obeisance. Religious supplication, a demonstration to willingly obey." Kyrea said. "I don't know what Viking pyre is referring to." "Funeral rites for Viking warriors involved being buried or burned with everything you'll need in the afterlife. Weapons, wives, slaves, horses, and even a ship." I explained. "Napoleon has turned on us?" Kyrea asked. No, but I decided to skip the long explanation. Functionally, Napoleon was now our enemy. "Looks like it. Comms are down, the networks are flooded, and-" I stopped, as I stared out the window. Above, in the sky, small flashes of bright white light dotted the horizon, blooming in a staccato of bursts that left a grey haze in their aftermath, "The shipyards." Kyrea whispered. "That's where the shipyards are. They're held in geostationary orbit to shield the ships and workers from Jupiter's radiation. Those explosions must be-" "The onboard AI overloading the ship's engines." I finished. "We need to assume any system governed autonomously or by an AI is now hostile." I said, as I forced the networking equipment in my suit to observe without interaction. I left one exception, for any communication directly from Belisarius. "We need to get you to the CIC." Kyrea said. "You need a vacuum worthy suit." I replied, firmly. She glared at me hard until I added "ma'am. There's no telling how long we can count on this base having air." "Locker room's on the way, anyway." Kyrea relented. "Follow me." I followed, only a few steps behind as she lead the way down the corridor. As we walked, I sent to Belisaurius "how's that plan coming?" "Difficult. I'm locked out of every system, except my direct connection to the server farms on Venus." It sent back. I could feel the irritation in its text. "I'm reduced to a bootstrap simulation based off three years of personnel logs. Last-resort scenario is a smuggler's slip-runner placed in isolation near the prison. Ship's booby-trapped and locked bio-metrically. Also, neither of you know how to fly a ship." "My experimental Warmind can't help us. It's locked out of the networks." I told the Sergeant, as we went down another corridor. "The only thing that could help now is another Warmind, but we need a way to contact one. If we have an emergency tight-beam laser, we could contact Charlemagne on Mars." "You can sell that plan to our bosses when we get to the CIC." Kyrea insisted, but she nodded in agreement. "Do you have any combat experience?" "Not much." I admitted. "We have a few demo programs in the armory. I'm probably going to lock your rifle into burst mode until I think otherwise. Hopefully you won't have to use it." Up ahead, a half dozen frames, a form of robot used mostly for menial labour, were stopped at the sides of the hall, leaving us a path. "Odd." Kyrea muttered but started forward. "Wait!" I warned. "Every AI could be a threat." As if that triggered something, the half-dozen frames charged us. "Say 'I told you so' and I'll cap you first." Kyrea said, as she drew her weapon and started firing. We don't make frames to be particularly durable. Of course, 'particularly durable' for a robot involves a level of resilience that us squishy humans really can't match. It took Kyrea a half-dozen shots to bring down one of the frames, and I had no idea how many shots she had left to spend on the other five. "How do I shut down a frame bare-handed?" I sent to Belisarius, Surprisingly, it responded instantly. "Your suit's combat analysis protocols will predict a frame's movement. Use the onboard communications array to blind them, the power core is located in the back of the frame's sensor array." Point for my Warmind. As soon as Kyrea's weapon emptied, I lunged forward and charged the closest frame. True to the Warmind's word, my suit was briefed that the frame would try to lunge and grab me. I managed to dodge left, reached into the back of its head, and yank out the small reactor that powered the frame. I glanced back to see Sergeant Kyrea reload, and rolled the reactor towards the other frames, dashing back towards her. "Shoot that reactor!" I called out. She hit it just as I stopped beside her, and was surprise to see her push me to a halt as she put me between her and the frames, as she fired. The explosion beat the breath out of my lungs, and bits of shrapnel bounced off my armoured back. The onboard sensors registered the impact, but to my immediate relief, it didn't do any damage. "Decent armour." Kyrea said, as she took a step back and glanced around me. "But next time, share the plan with me before you go charging a robot. Even a frame is capable of breaking bones with a gentle squeeze." "Aye, ma'am." I said, turning around and walking down the hall to examine the frames. The three that the explosion wrecked were badly damaged, but I took the power cores out of two of them, and began letting my onboard computer examine the programming. "Pockets. So that's why you got the long-coat version of that suit." Kyrea said, as we went through the door and entered the armoury. Even the minute aspects of my personality were accounted for when Belisarius picked this armour for me. I wonder how many nanoseconds it took the Warmind to finish that decision. "I was going for the old trench coat look from antiquity." "What's with the band on your left arm?" The sergeant asked, as she stopped at her locker. "The bond monitors the status of the Warminds. It's actually ten bands, made from a quantum mirror of the Warmind's core hierarchies. Bottom to top is the Heirarchy of the Warminds. Zero for Rasputin, one for Charlemagne, two for Kublai-" "That one's dark." Kyrea said, and I did my best to keep my sight pointed at the far wall. "The researchers at Ishtar exposed it to those strange machines they found on Venus. Damn fools thought they were in a simulation and wanted to break out of it. Anyway, three," and here I tapped the fourth band on the bond. "That's Napoleon. As far as I can tell, it's operating normally."

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