Chapter Thirteen - Talking To Yourself

“The Protectors are doing humanity, and America, a favour. I’m a big fan of these guys, always have been. I think aliens are real cool. It goes without saying that, based on the weaponry easily given to these so-called Vanguard, these extra-terrestrials could easily wipe out humanity. Big threat.

Some people are going yap yap yap about it, but they’ve got no proof that that’s what these aliens want to do! It’s lies! Fake.

I think we should look at how many people they’re saving--and it’s a lot of people, and it bothers me that we didn’t save them ourselves--but we will because these aliens are our friends. These aliens are saving so many lives.

And with their help America is going to be so good.”

-- excerpt from a brief given by the president of the former nation of the United States, January 2021

***

The sound my shoes on the steps sounded loud, far too loud. Even my breathing, calm and shallow as it was, felt as if it was echoing down the stairwell.

There was no reason to be so nervous. I’d look down between the rails already, the doors below were closed and I didn’t think there was anything waiting for me.

But I was alone, and in a building with some aliens that would like to do little more than eat me, and not in a fun way.

The kittens and the others I’d left behind, all of them waiting near the entrance to the stairs until I returned or an hour passed. It slowed us down, a lot, but it also meant that we wouldn’t have an army of screaming kids to deal with if one alien rounded the corner.

I licked my lips. “Hey, you think you can do music or something?” I whispered.

I’m afraid not. I suppose I could hum? But I wasn’t built to be musically talented. Is music something that interests you?

“No. Not really. I’ll listen to a bit of everything, I mean, but I don’t play any instruments or love any bands.” I said. I wasn’t going to discuss teenaged band crushes with AI riding piggy-back in my head. “So, uh, built, huh?”

Are you trying to learn more about me? You are not terribly subtle about it if so.

“Yeah well, you’re living in my head, yeah? Might as well.”

I reached the bottom of the stairwell and came up to the door. It had a little rectangular glass in it, one covered by a mesh. I peeked through, taking in a quick glimpse of a grey-walled corridor with an exposed ceiling and cheap tile floors. No aliens, no humans, nothing of any real interest save for some posters on the walls and some hastily discarded trash on the floor.

I’m afraid there isn’t much to say. I am a custom-built support AI. One of many given to the vanguards of humanity in order to assist you and prepare Earth for a full scale invasion of the Antithesis.

I paused while reaching for the handle. “Full scale? They’ve been hitting us since... shit, way before I was born.”

Those are scouting and probing attacks. Small, with the capability to become a full scale hive, but still relatively easy to excise. A single low-yield nuclear weapon could eliminate most of those sores. Humanity has done so before. A full-scale invasion would involve a force of Antithesis organisms outmassing your home world’s moon.

“They didn’t tell us that,” I said.

I am not affiliated with any Earthly governments. What they find necessary to censor does not concern me or my brother and sister AI.

I took a shallow breath. “Yeah, great,” I said. I pulled the door open, planted my foot to keep it that way, then pulled my Trench Maker out from my back.

Nothing jumped out of the shadows.

I stepped in and started moving. The building had stairwells more or less behind each elevator bank, which meant crossing over half the floor to get to the next one. Fortunately, after this floor was a maintenance floor where the parking garage was located. If there weren’t any aliens around, then we were home free.

My makers, the Protectors, can assist humanity in repelling an Antithesis incursion. But the cost to our infrastructure would be great. Hence; uplift.

“You need soldiers,” I whispered.

No. The numbers are in our favour. We could, and probably would, win against even the largest Antithesis fleet. The issue is logistical. If Earth is invaded once a year, then stationing a defensive fleet would be a necessity. That same fleet could be used elsewhere. If humanity learns to defend itself, fewer resources will be spent in your defence. The policy regarding primitive races was always to observe and protect. The Antithesis changed this.

“Aren’t you just a bunch of saints,” I said.

I don’t think so. New cultures, ways of thinking, and even species are interesting, but that is all. Taking some humans and relocating them would be easier than protecting an underdeveloped world like Earth. But that would go against the moral code by which the Protectors live. That the weak must be protected.

“Weird code,” I said as I panned my vision over the ceiling. I didn’t like all those pipes and the shadows behind them.

It is that code that chose you. You placed yourself at great risk to protect someone else. You were rewarded with the opportunity to become a Vanguard. Now you’re better equipped to protect even more of your human brethren.

Myalis’ argument had some holes in it. If they could provide me with such good equipment, why weren’t they taking care of the incursions themselves? But that was for later. If the freaky all-powerful aliens just wanted to give us the toys to fix the problems ourselves that was their prerogative.

The corridor came to a four-way intersection up ahead. I slowed down, stepping lightly with my weight shifting from side to side to keep my footfalls quiet. I probably looked like an idiot, but I was an alive idiot.

I arrived at the intersection and stared. The corridor ahead led to more maintenance things. To the left was towards some smaller, cheaper offices, and to the right was the fastest route to the next stairwell. It was also supposed to lead through a little area with shops and cafes and shit. Somewhere where the people working in this building could buy stuff and grab a bite to eat.

I moved rightward.

Soon I arrived at a pair of double doors, one of them slightly ajar. The fact that it was being held open by a boot didn’t go amiss, nor did the sounds of distant gunfire, screaming and explosions.

“Ah, shit,” I muttered.

***