Guardian Awakening (32 page)

“Yes.”

“The ships just need to sense individual Guardian DNA, they don’t need a Guardian to actually fly them, Aesia could do that.”
 

“Tristan, what are you talking about?” Aesia demanded. She had walked into the room unnoticed during their conversation.

Tristan turned. “Aesia! Couldn’t you get back to sleep?”

“No, I could hear your voices, even in the bedroom.”

“Oh sorry.”
 

Aesia frowned. “What are you planning that involves Tristain?”

“Please sit down, Aesia, and hear me out.” Tristan indicated the lounge sofa.

Aesia’s frown deepened. “Tristan?”
 

Tristan sighed. “Stored in the bunker of each AI is a final resort or doomsday weapon. Part of the weapon is two black ships. Once in space the two ships and the planetary AI form a triangle. When they are activated, any living thing that passes through the triangle is destroyed. It’s possible to destroy all the crews in whole fleets at once.”

“So why are two Guardians needed?” Aesia asked.

“Because the weapon is too powerful to entrust to one Guardian. Two are required as a fail-safe.”
 

“Tristan, you cannot risk Tristain. I won’t allow it!”

“Aesia, I would not dream of suggesting it if there were too much risk. You will be with her all the time, out of sight of the fleet. If you sit quietly as a corner of the triangle, you should have nothing to worry about.”
 

Aesia shook her head. “I’m unhappy with this, Tristan.”
 

Tristan set his jaw and took a deep breath. “If we don’t do anything, a planet is destroyed. The Sicceian military will gain ascendancy over the administration, and the war will continue. I will have no option other than to ensure it is Sicceia that loses. Can you imagine the loss of life that will result?”
 

Aesia clenched her fists on her lap. “You are putting me in an impossible position.”

“Yes I know, I’m sorry, but it is not of my doing. Please remember that any problem and the AI will have you both out and safe in a moment.”

“Providing you can get it going,” Aesia reminded him.

“Yes, provided I can get it going.”
 

Dionysia coughed “Excuse me, but we have a route plotted for you Guardian. We will transport you through ten planets and then, on the eleventh one, Penelope will transport you to Mylia. Once there however, we’ll be unable to get you out. You will be entombed under a hundred metres of rock.”

Tristan looked at Aesia, who was watching him intently.
Well?

This is the only solution?

Yes.

Aesia inclined her head. “OK then, let’s do it.”
 

“When the AI is online, I want you to transport Aesia and Tristain to me please.”

“Yes Guardian.”

“Now, I just need the battle suit with a maximum air supply. Enough to get to the core and start her up. I will also need a torch, besides the suit lights.”

“Tristan, the suit is not designed to be operated without close AI support. The on board air supply would normally be replenished by the nearest AI.”

“Then add a couple of external tanks please.”

“You will still only get around two hours with the extra tanks.”
 

“OK, if I can’t get her fixed in that time I never will.”

Tristan dressed quickly and buckled on the armour belt.

When he had finished, Aesia stood, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Just in case,” she whispered.

“Are you ready, Tristan?” Dionysia asked.
 

“Yes…no wait! What’s her name, the AI on Mylia?”
 

“Cassiopeia,” Dionysia replied.

“Right then, I’m ready.” Tristan unfolded his battle suit and felt a lurch. He was standing in a bright, bare room. Another lurch, another room, another, another…Tristan shot a thought:
Penelope, wait!

Yes Guardian,
the emotionless female voice sounded in his head. Tristan folded back his helmet, fell to his knees, and was violently sick over the floor of the empty bright room. Penelope appeared in front of him. “Guardian, what’s wrong?” A couch appeared next to him. “Please sit for a moment.” Tristan was still retching, although there was nothing left. Finally, the nausea subsided. He rose and collapsed on the couch, folding his armour as he did so.

“I’m sorry about the mess, Penelope,” he gasped. “So many transport jumps in quick succession made me sick.”

“Guardian, that is not a problem.” The mess he had made on the floor disappeared.

“May I have some water please?” A glass of water appeared on a small table next to the couch. Tristan drank the cool, fresh water. He sat for a while to make sure his stomach had recovered from the previous jumps. Penelope stood impassively at the end of the couch and waited, making no comment.

Tristan stood and took a deep breath. The churning in his stomach had passed, and he could now do the final jump without heaving the water he had drunk over the inside of his helmet. He unfolded his battle amour, checked the head-up displays were set to environmental monitor mode, and said, “OK, I’m ready.” One final lurch; this one seemed longer than the others. He was standing in total darkness except for the glow from his helmet.

He switched on the suit lights and removed the torch from the pouch strapped to his leg. The suit environmental monitor told him there was no breathable air. He had two hours to locate the AI and get her to boot up. If he couldn’t it was all over. He looked around. Penelope had placed him in the hangar.
Good girl,
he thought. He ran over to the large oval building that housed the core and sent out a telepathic command. He sensed nothing!
Oh fuck it!
 

The AI training included the location of the core access panels but not much else. There should be two one on the side and one on the roof. Early versions had only roof access, but during the period the training course was produced all AI’s were being upgraded.

He switched on the torch for extra light and carefully inched round the building, searching for a service hatch. There was nothing. The walls were even and smooth. He went back around in the opposite direction, still nothing.
The roof is my last hope.
Only there was no access to the roof, and even with the assistance of his suit, he did not think he could jump that high. He tried anyway; with the suit assistance set to maximum, he found he was a frustrating metre-and-a-half short. Panic started to tighten his chest. He took a deep breath and fought it back.

He looked around, sweeping the torch light round the hangar. There were the two black ships, but they would be sealed, and he couldn’t gain access to them without the AI. He swept the hangar with the torch again. He had a niggling feeling he had missed something. “Of course!” The black ships had steps leading up to the access hatch. He ran to the nearest ship and pulled on the steps. He blew through pursed lips; they weren’t fixed!

He dragged the steps across to the core building then climbed the steps. Putting all the force he could into the jump, he reached up, his fingers locked round the edge of the roof. The suit servos strained as he pulled himself onto the roof. He checked his air supply. Forty-five minutes left. His activity was using the air too fast.
 

With a deep breath, he walked to the centre of the roof. His chest tightened.
What if they had moved the hatch, what if there were no access and they relied on the matter transfer system?
His boot caught the hatch rim.
Thank God, I almost missed it.
He located the release mechanism and lifted the hatch to reveal a ladder leading down into the gloom of the computer core. He slid down the ladder, landing at the bottom with a clunk. Conduits were everywhere, making it a tight fit for him in his suit. A small service corridor ran to the left and right. In front of him was a door with the words, ‘Core. Authorised Access Only’ in Lantian script.

Tristan released the catches and stepped in. He gasped; in the soft red glow of equipment and consoles a clear coffin-shaped container stood in the middle of the room, cables and tubes leading to it. He walked to the container. “Oh bloody hell!” He stared for a moment unblinking. A young woman lay on her back in some sort of off-white liquid. On the front of the container were two lines of text: ‘Cassiopeia. Stasis Chamber Mk5’. “For fuck sake! They’re not AIs at all! They are real women!”
 

He touched the container. Her presence tingled faintly in his mind. She was still alive. Tristan held his breath and probed the faint consciousness. He came up against an unbreakable block. It was preventing access to the part of her mind which identified her as a person. He probed deeper, a weaker block preventing emotions. Tristan thought of Dionysia, then the other unemotional machine like AIs. Without thought, he weakened the emotion block. As soon as he had done it, he regretted it.
Stupid idiot! What did you do that for?
He berated himself.
What if I have caused her to fail?

His air supply alarm started blinking at him, demanding his attention. With his awful discovery, he had forgotten his air was running out faster than it should have been. He had less than fifteen minutes left. He sent the boot command to her mind. No change.
She is still alive so whats wrong?
He walked
round the container. As he passed a cable from one of the consoles, it fell from its socket. He reached over, reinserted and locked the connector.
Maybe that has always been loose.
His air warning light now on a constant red informed him only ten minutes air remaining.

He sent another boot command to the woman lying in the container. This time
the red glow of the instruments changed to yellow, then started to flash green. Tristan knew he had to get out of the core as the AI was prevented from gaining access to her own core. Now, he knew why. A terrible secret he must keep to himself forever. If the AIs knew they were real people trapped forever, how would that affect them? “Probably why the block was so strong”
Perhaps I should not have tampered with the emotion block
. He shrugged. “Too late now.”

He turned and left the room, sealing the door after him. The systems were booting up. He climbed the steps, then stepped out onto the roof of the core. His air supply read three minutes. He jumped from the roof onto the step ladder. He reached the bottom step and sat down. One minute remaining.
Hurry, Cassiopeia.
A few more breaths then nothing. His lungs started to burn. Blackness engulfed him.

Chapter Twenty Two: The Weapon.

Guardian, how are you?

“Um, I don’t know
,”
Tristan replied. He opened his eyes and groaned as a thousand hammers were beating a throbbing rhythm inside his head. Squinting against the light, he sat up. He blinked as his vision cleared, and a young woman sat on a chair opposite him. She smiled.

“I found you unconscious outside my core building. I feared I might have been too late.” She stood and held out an arm to help him up. He wobbled for few moments before his balance returned. She stood back and smiled again. “My name is Cassiopeia, what’s yours, Guardian?”

“Tristan.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Tristan,” she continued.
 

Tristan smiled back. “Not half as pleased as I am to meet you, Cassiopeia. I thought my time had run out.”

Cassiopeia nodded, “What’s your mission Guardian?”

“Have you contacted the other AIs yet?” Tristan asked.

“No, I was waiting for you to wake. I didn’t want to do anything until I knew what you were doing here.”

“Please contact them; they will update you quicker than I can.”

Cassiopeia nodded. Some moments later she turned back to Tristan. “You really took a chance coming here, I might not have been recoverable and you would have died.”

“You were recoverable, so all is well.” Tristan smiled at her, and thought of the secret in the core. She was an attractive young girl who would have had her whole life in front of her if she had not been trapped in this machine. Had she volunteered or been coerced? He would never know. The barrier set in her mind to prevent access to who she had been was too strong. As soon as the memory of the core crossed his mind, he blocked it off. He could never take the chance of the AIs sensing what he knew.

“Aesia and Tristain are on their way; I will prepare for them.” The room shimmered, and within a heartbeat was identical to the lounge in Dionysia’s bunker. “It will be at least an hour before they arrive.” Cassiopeia continued, “Dionysia did not want to put too much strain on a small child, so they were having a stopover for a few minutes on each leg to allow her to recover.”

While they waited, Cassiopeia told him she shut herself down sometime after the last Guardian had visited her. Some of her sisters had shut themselves down before her, because without Guardians they could do little or nothing to maintain stability on their planets. She had watched the start of the decline as different species got into petty wars with one another. She had hoped it would get no worse and that overall peace would prevail. She paused and looked sideways at Tristan. “My sisters seem different somehow.”

“What do you mean, different?” Tristan asked.

“Well, except for Dionysia, they seem wooden; almost empty. They had no idea about the welfare of the child, for instance. It’s strange, I don’t remember noticing that before.” She paused for a moment. “I’m also using inflections in my speech much the same as Dionysia. My other sisters do not… Don’t.” She giggled then put her hand over her mouth, surprise in her eyes.
 

A worried frown flashed across Tristan’s brow, but he just replied, “Hmm…maybe the length of time you were shut down took a toll on your memory.”

“Well, I ran a diagnostic and couldn’t find anything. Still, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Aesia suddenly appeared with Tristain in her arms. She put Tristain down, and the child ran to Tristan to be picked up. “Daddy, that was really exciting, there were so many ladies.”