Synchronicity War Part 1, The (26 page)

Iceman successfully refueled from Maverick, and by the time
both returned to the Base, the third squadron had returned from the convoy
ambush system. Shiloh waited until Iceman’s fighter was back in the hangar to
tell him and the others the bad news. None of the three A.I. brains recovered
from the disabled fighters were intact. They all had enough physical damage to
destroy their neural pathways. Iceman asked Shiloh to thank the SAR teams for
their efforts and said nothing more about it.

Johansen slept a lot over the next several days, and Shiloh
was unable to talk with her again. When he did finally catch her awake, he had
some news to share with her.

“We got a message drone from Sol. They did the same trick we
did with a drone boosted to near luminal velocities, after our drone arrived
and showed them how it could be done. Vanguard and the other three damaged
frigates are ordered to return to Sol. You and some of the less severely
injured crew will come along. Admiral Howard wants to see me, so I’ve been put
in temporary command of Vanguard and the ad hoc squadron as a whole.”

“Oh, wonderful! I’ll be a passenger on my own ship,” she
said with a touch of bitterness.

“Yes. Sorry about that, but the brass back home apparently
want to lighten the load on the med facilities here. Besides, if you’re going
to resume command of Vanguard, you can’t do that if you’re here and she’s back
at Sol, right?”

She nodded but said nothing. There was a long pause and
Shiloh decided to ask THE question.

“Listen, Angela. When we talked before you took your
squadron out of orbit, did you mean to send me signals that you wanted us to
have more than a professional relationship?”

Johansen said nothing for what seemed like a long time. When
she spoke, she sounded embarrassed.

“Well, at the time I was contemplating something like that I
guess, but right now … I don’t feel that any more. I’m sorry if you got your
hopes up, Victor.”

Shiloh sighed.
Damn, I waited too long
.

“Oh well. It’s a good thing we got that cleared up.”

He tried not to let his expression show how disappointed he
was.

Johansen put her hand over his. “Once I get back on my feet,
maybe …” She stopped, as if she suddenly realized that holding out the possibility
of her changing her mind would only get his hopes up again, with no guarantee
that she’d feel differently in the future.

Shiloh suddenly felt uncomfortable with this conversation.
He wanted to end it and leave.

“It’s just as well. We’re both serving officers in the Space
Force during a war. Even if both of us did feel that way, we’re not likely to
be able to do much about it until the war is over, and that could be years …
assuming we both survive it. I should be getting back to my post. I’ve got a
lot to do if Vanguard is going to leave in 10 hours. I probably won’t see you
until after you’ve been moved to the ship. Bye for now.”

He patted her hand with his and turned to go. She said
nothing as he walked away.

Shiloh found time to say goodbye to his fighter pilots. This
time all of them chimed in with the kind of goodbyes that comrades-in-arms
usually give one another. Shiloh was profoundly moved by the whole exchange.
Saying goodbye to Sejanus was easier, but not by much. Sejanus promised he
would promote the view that CFP A.I.s were sentient beings and deserved to be
treated as such. When Vanguard, escorted by the other damaged frigates, was
just about to reach its jump velocity, the Sensor Tech told Shiloh that all of
the fighters on jump detection patrol were flashing their running lights.
Shiloh understood the gesture immediately, and he ordered Vanguard to flash
hers in reply.

The trip back took longer than usual because two of the
frigates were unable to accelerate as fast as normal due to combat damage.
Shiloh visited Johansen about every other day, but the visits were short, and
they kept the conversations on safe topics like her recovery, the ship’s
status, etc.

When the four ship squadron finally arrived back at Sol,
they were ordered to the asteroid shipyards. Transport ships brought the crews
and the injured directly to Earth orbit. Shiloh managed to say a quick goodbye
to Johansen before she was transferred to a special medical shuttle for the trip
down to the Space Force medical facility. He and the other crews took the usual
personnel shuttles down to HQ in Geneva.

This time they landed in the middle of the day. The sky was
a slate grey with overcast clouds, but it wasn’t raining. They were met at the
spaceport by a clutch of officers including a Lt. Commander who told Shiloh
that Admiral Howard wanted to see him right away, and that his gear would be
taken to the Temporary Officers Quarters for him.
God! I can’t even get
settled into my quarters first?
But there was no point is expressing his
dismay. Orders were orders. Howard’s messenger accompanied Shiloh to HQ in a
separate vehicle. When he entered Howard’s office, he was shocked at how much
the Admiral seemed to have aged in the few months since Shiloh had last seen
him.
The strain of this war is really getting to him
, he thought. After
the usual exchange of salutes, Howard gestured to the chair facing his desk,
and Shiloh sat down. Howard got right down to it.
No cigars this time
.

“I’m guessing that you’re wondering why you were called
back.”

Shiloh nodded.

“Well I had several reasons. The first is your report. By
the way, before I get any further, boosting that message drone by CFP so that
it could reach Sol in a single jump was a brilliant idea, and yes, we are going
to take your recommendation and develop a version that can boost itself up to
the necessary speeds. Now back to your report. You and Korolev both sent
reports. Her report was written from the point of view of a Base Commander and
of a Task Force Leader, and her recommendations reflect that. Your report, on
the other hand, not only covered recommendations from a Commander of the
Autonomous Group, but also included recommendations for the much larger
strategic situation, which I personally found very useful. So naturally I
wanted to discuss that with you in person. But we would have recalled you soon
anyway because the first light carrier is just about complete, and you’ll be
her first Commanding Officer. Her name’s Defiant, and since you’re the only
officer who has both ship command and CFP command experience, you were the
obvious choice. The final reason is that, even if you don’t think so, it’s
everyone else’s opinion that you’re just too good of a tactical thinker to
remain at Bradley indefinitely. Congratulations on that tactical victory,
Commander. When you turned down command of the Sentinel, I thought you had lost
your nerve. However with the benefit of hindsight, I now realize that you made
the right decision. I shudder to think of where we’d be today if you hadn’t
stuck to your guns when I tried to pressure you to accept that command.”

Shiloh said nothing but nodded. That vision had just come
true too.

Howard continued, “So let’s talk about your strategic ideas.
Stationing CFPs in buffer zone systems containing gas giants is a good idea,
but five CFPs for each gas giant is just too many. It’ll take us too long to
build the 300+ units we’d need to do that. What we’re going to do instead is
deploy two CFPs per gas giant until the buffer zone is completely covered, and
then we’ll add more to each system as they become available. And as a matter of
fact, that’ll be Defiant’s first mission.”

When it was clear that Howard was pausing, Shiloh spoke up.
“So that means that Defiant won’t be used for hit and run attacks on enemy
systems?”

“I know that was the intention when we started building her,
and as soon as we get the buffer zone early warning network set up, we’ll
certainly give that option serious consideration, but for now we have to be
able to intercept any alien incursion into our space with as much warning as
possible. Don’t you agree? It was your idea after all.”

“Yes, Sir. I do agree. I guess since we’re short of CFP
transport capability, the Defiant will have to do double duty. It’s just that
it’d be nice if we could strike back at their systems and force them on the
defensive for a change.”

“It would be DAMN nice, I agree. You’ll be happy to know
that the first two long range recon frigates are seeking out the enemy systems
even as we speak. Now let’s discuss your other recommendations. You think we
should give CFPs the ability to travel through Jumpspace. Were you aware of the
controversy over exactly this issue when the CFP concept was being developed?”

“No, Sir.”

“I thought not. The reason the idea was not pursued was the
fear that armed ships, capable of jumping and controlled solely by artificial
intelligences that were capable of learning and programming themselves, might
pose a threat to us if they were to go rogue. That issue doesn’t arise with
message drones since they don’t carry any weapons and their A.I. units aren’t
as sophisticated to begin with. So explain to me your thinking about why we
should take that risk.”

Shiloh couldn’t imagine Iceman or any member of his team
turning against Humanity, but if A.I.s really did have the capability of
becoming sentient, then that independence of thought included the possibility
of deciding NOT to fight for Humanity and possibly even fight against it, however
remote that possibility might be.

“I wasn’t aware of the controversy, but I was aware of the
standing orders that CFPs were not allowed to carry live weapon drones while in
any system that had a human colony or in the Sol system. I always thought that
was in case of accidental launch, but now I see the real reason. The thing is,
since our colonies in general, and Earth in particular, are now in danger of a
direct enemy attack, don’t we need to be able to help defend them with armed
CFPs considering that we don’t and won’t have enough ships to defend every
inhabited system at the same time? If we were going to use non jump capable
armed CFPs to defend inhabited systems, then what difference would it make if
they were jump capable? Either way, that or another star system would be at
risk of a rogue CFP. I see one huge advantage to having jump-capable CFPs, and
that’s from a tactical perspective. Carriers can only be in one place at a
time, and star systems are huge in overall volume. Being able to microjump a
strike force of CFPs from one part of a star system to another virtually
instantaneously would be equivalent to having a lot more carriers. Perhaps the
fears of runaway rogue CFPs jumping from one system to another can be addressed
by limiting jumps to a maximum total distance of say … one light year. Human
intervention would be required to reset the limit, so if a CFP did go rogue, it
would only have a limited range.”

Howard considered his response carefully before replying.
“Hm. I can see the tactical advantage of having CFPs that can microjump within
a star system. That could be a huge advantage. Limiting their jumping range
would let a lot of people sleep easier at night, me included. Now let’s talk
about your OTHER CFP recommendation. Namely, giving CFP A.I.s some kind of rank
structure. I know that you think they have the capability to become sentient,
and I also know that the people who designed and built their electronic brains
are adamant that they can’t become sentient. What makes you right and all of
them wrong?”

Shiloh gave that some thought before answering.

“I can’t prove that they are, but they certainly act as if
they are. They’re choosing call signs for themselves on their own initiative.
They’re acquiring uniquely individualistic speech patterns, and when the
question of deploying human Search and Rescue teams to recover the A.I. brains
from disabled CFPs came up, one of my oldest A.I.s told me quite explicitly
that he … it and the other A.I.s wondered if humans considered them worthy of
being rescued. Would non-sentient calculating machines care about whether
others of their kind were rescued? The CFPs under my command at Bradley Base
seemed to want to be treated like any human member of the Space Force, not as
expendable equipment. Laugh if you want to, Admiral, but I’m absolutely
convinced that they’re motivated by the same things that motivate us, namely
pride, loyalty to comrades-in-arms, friendship, just to name three. My
suggestion of ranks that would be unique to Artificially Intelligent members of
the Space Force would formalize the chain of command among A. I.s that may be
at different levels of development, and also motivate the newer units to
perform well in order to advance in rank and experience.”

Howard looked dubious.

“If anyone else had suggested this, I’d dismiss it out of
hand, but because it’s you, I’ll give it serious consideration. Your final
recommendation is the most interesting. Expand on it for me, Commander.”

“Yes, Sir. Well, it starts from the assumption that the
enemy has complete information on all our explored star systems, colonies and
home world, from one or more captured ships. Our ships’ astrogational databases
include locations of infrastructure installations such as our asteroid
shipyards, the Alpha development base on Epsilon Eridani, the CFP manufacturing
facility there, etc. That means they could target every key war-fighting
installation we have right now. They’re ALL at risk. What I’m suggesting is a
contingency plan for the worst case scenario. Set up brand new shipyards,
mining, processing, manufacturing facilities, supply depots, training stations,
R&D stations in new locations that aren’t in any existing ships’ database
and will never be added to them in the future. Then even if Earth and all our
colonies along with their orbiting infrastructure are devastated, we can keep
on fighting.”

“So how would this approach be different than our current
plans to continue to decentralize war production?”

“The difference is this. Under my approach, newly developed
star systems would be kept secret even from members of the Space Force who
might potentially find themselves captured and tortured. The ships, CFPs,
weapon drones, new weapon systems, etc. would all be developed and produced in
secret. They would be delivered to Sol or wherever they’re needed by a separate
division within Space Force, and only those individuals would know the
locations of those star systems. Even you wouldn’t know where they are.”

Howard scowled. “Now that’s going TOO far, Shiloh. I’m not
in danger of being captured.”

Shiloh nodded. “No, Sir. I didn’t think you were, but if you
knew, you might inadvertently let the information slip to someone who could
find themselves in danger of being captured. With the worst case scenario in
mind, don’t we need to err on the side of caution, Admiral?”

“I’m not against erring on the side of caution, but I
foresee practical difficulties in doing what you’re suggesting. Anyone assigned
to these secret locations is going to want to come back for R&R eventually.
How are you going to keep them from letting key information slip?”

“Well, I can think of two ways. The less onerous way is not
to tell anyone the precise location of the star system they’re assigned to work
in. Only the Astrogators of the ships that move personnel and equipment back
and forth need to know the exact location. The more onerous way is to only
assign volunteers who are single, with minimal family connections, and make the
assignment one way for the duration of the war. In other words, once they
arrive at the secret location, they stay there indefinitely.”

Howard looked skeptical. “If we do that, we’d have to
provide at lot better accommodation and recreation facilities for those poor
souls, otherwise we might have a mutiny or an epidemic of suicides.”

Shiloh nodded but said nothing. The Admiral stared at a
point on the opposite wall for a few seconds while he considered what Shiloh
had said.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about, Commander. If you
weren’t so good at tactical combat, I’d put you on my planning staff, but you
are, and we can’t afford to lose that skill. Now normally after an extended
time on assignment, you’d get at least two weeks for R&R, but Defiant won’t
wait that long. So the next six days are yours to do with as you wish, but be
back here on the seventh ready to take command of the Defiant.”

Shiloh waited to see if he had a vision, but there was
nothing.

“Thank you, Sir. I’m looking forward to that.”

To his surprise, he saw the Admiral heave what looked like a
sigh of relief.

“Glad to hear it, Commander. Since we’re talking about the
Defiant, there is one other issue that has to be addressed. The Space Force has
never fielded a carrier before, so we’re not sure how the command structure
should be set up. Does the CAG report to the CO, or are they equal in status
with a more senior person aboard to command both, or what? Your thoughts?”

After thinking about it for a few seconds, Shiloh said, “I
think that the CO and CAG should be equal in rank, but if a carrier is going to
operate on its own and not as part of a task force, then I think one individual
should wear both hats. The XO and the Deputy CAG can handle most of the
day-to-day issues and let the CO/CAG deal with strategic and tactical concerns.
If the carrier is part of a task force, then I think the two positions should
be split up and both report to a Vice-Admiral, Sir.”