A Broken Machine (Part Six)

Earth

The news spread swiftly among those previously chosen to know that a colony had been attacked and there was little information currently available.

Governments met, military meetings were summoned and the gears of war began to slowly spin up. A Quorum of War was chosen and invitations were issued.

Earth had given up all hope of direct government many years ago and politics had adapted. The Quorum consisted of anyone appointed, elected or selected by whatever means to deal with a particular issue or to plan for such events. This one had met many times, plotting the response of mankind to an Exterior threat. Other Quorum dealt with humanity's other endless squabbles.

The Secretary of Fleet Forces was the first to speak, "Today is the day we earn our bread. An unknown hostile force has attacked one of our new colonies." She held up her hand, "We have only preliminary data, our satellites haven't yet arrived. As far as I know, this colony is only equipped with the basics and is already subject to sanctions, so I would like some background." She looked at the screen displaying a disgruntled man in his late middle age.

He leaned back, "Fine, although little of this will be relevant." He looked off-screen for a moment, then continued, "The colony hasn't chosen a name for itself and I'm not spending the day reciting its coordinates so I will refer to it as the target. It is an Arboreal colony, first-generation. I'm sure you saw what conclusion our Envoy made and the supporting documents. Frankly, we were about to impose a new government on the place and they knew it." He turned back to the screen again as it updated.

Damn.

"I must tell you that our ship, the Wisp, has been destroyed. It has data-burst its last report, apparently a complete shield failure, multiple hull breaches and the near-certain death of our Envoy. I am forwarding the analysis to you now."

The room went silent as AI spelt out what exactly had happened. An Exterior force had simply passed through the ship fields, impacted on the hull and continued straight through. There was no sign of Intel chatter, and no other shipping was visible on any sensor except visual. They looked like fairy lights or sparks swirling through the darkness.

They watched as the Envoy was cut apart by the indifferent glimmers of light and the ship declared an emergency, presumably to try and land. The numbers said no, or as it phrased it, 'A non-optimal response.' Any child could decode that one.

The Fleet Secretary hummed for a moment and spoke up, "We had an anomaly on one of our supply stations in that area. Nothing but the universe being weird or so we thought. The place was unmanned so it was just a report from its AI that shields had been breached and then repaired. I'll get my staff to take a closer look.'

The representative of the terraforming agency spoke up. He looked uncomfortable, tired and much younger than most of the Quorum, "We have, or at least had, two satellites over the planet. They've been there since we took on the project. My project."

The Quorum understood. That explained the fatigue since terraforming one planet could take an entire career. This was his baby and someone was killing it.

The Fleet Secretary looked at him with a degree of compassion, "Is there anything you can tell us?"

The man nodded, "It was as you would expect, one was mapping the terrain, soil, the new seas. Biology, ecology planning. The other one dealt with atmosphere and solar/system events. Mapping the magnetic heliosphere, that sort of data." Some ghost of previous enthusiasm entered his voice, "We called them the 'twins' and they were the best we have ever designed, cutting years off the project. We knew everything and anything that happened." His voice dwindled for a moment and years fell on his face, new lines that would never leave.

"Our last report before the twins fell silent… the planet is on fire. We tracked our fauna being hunted, and our flora being burned. Even if they are still up in orbit, they couldn't see through the smoke. We put them on standby, but…" he visibly took control of himself, "they aren't responding anymore. I have forwarded the data."

At that, his screen went dark as he cut his connection to the Quorum. No one suggested reconnection, not as they had watched the tears begin to fall from his eyes.

Again the Fleet Secretary took control, "I'm coordinating his data with ours. Our AI insists this is an opportunistic attack and that the planet was simply in the way. The lack of any communication and the indifference to the destruction of the ecosystems indicate that this is not a sentient enemy in the usual sense. It believes we face a self-replicating machine attack. If it is true, then it may well extract sufficient information to come looking for us. Although why it is hunting wildlife is anyone's guess…"

"That one is for me, I believe." An elderly man spoke up. "My name is Jean Mercier, professor of Xenobiology here at Saint Martin's University. I had wondered why I had been invited to such a grim company but I have something to add. Perhaps something useful?"

The rest of the Quorum simply nodded, equally lost.

"Then I will add that I also teach Anthropology and what we are seeing is a very old form of hunting, simply on a scale inconceivable on Earth. You set fires to drive prey to you. Many societies did it in our early years. Anything that couldn't flee the flames was of little interest, in our case anyway. We used it either to kill off the predators at a time of our choosing or drive out herbivores for food. It also allowed us to control wildfires or simply claim the land for agriculture. Members of the Quorum, this is slash and burn on a global scale. I cannot speak to the purpose but this is intelligent behaviour."

The Fleet Secretary added the professor's data to the algorithm and waited, as did the rest of the meeting. She grimaced as the results arrived.

"The AI concurs. It is studying the behaviour again for further correlation, but you have convinced it. Damn. That means it can plan, that it has done this before and that it finds value in the results. I cannot imagine it plans to eat much, not if they are truly machine-based so we must look deeper for a motive."

Another voice spoke up, "Ehh…hello. I'm just an AI dev, but I can say that anything that blasts through our shields and flies through space like some kind of bonfire doesn't need, well, meat. Unless it's truly bizarre. I mean, it would be like trying to run our ships on steak. Perhaps it has a crew? Biological components of some kind?"

The meeting absorbed that slowly. This wasn't getting any better. A quick glance by the Fleet Secretary at the AI caused her to shake her head.

"Unlikely. No effort seems to have been made for the collection of that amount of…material and proteins are very simple to mass-produce. Occam's razor says no."

The AI Dev seemed ready to hide under his desk but then he continued, "Then it has to be data. It doesn't need resources, it passed a dozen planets and moons before the attack. If biology is not important then it's trying to learn something. Sorry."

Hours passed as every relevant member added analysis, opinions and war-mongering bigotry. It all served to feed the combination of AI-driven Intel and human intuition.

Finally, the Fleet Secretary made the call.

“I feel we have reached the end of this process. Submit your votes. They are guarded, I’m afraid, so only you and the AI will know how you choose. The AI will wipe after the results are tallied, so no paper trail I’m afraid.” She let the silence draw out for a moment, letting that sink in.

“The choice is simple: The war is authorised with all our resources or it isn’t. There can be no subtlety here, not if we face an unknown and unmeasured enemy that has already attacked. If the vote fails we will mourn our dead and hope to recover from our defeat. If the vote passes I will lead a campaign to recover our lost world and its people.

May your wisdom lead you to the truth.”

The screens went blank and she sat back in her seat, exhausted. She looked into the dark and muttered, “Fuck you if you say no, I’m going anyway.”

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Silver stumbled towards where the door of his ship used to be, astonished by what he saw. All the glimmers were just …joining in? Feeding? What used to be the channel for his augments was now a full orchestra of data, every bell and whistle that he could have ever dreamed of. Unfortunately, it was combined with a concussion and the worst migraine he had ever had. Right now it was just all an aching noise.

He pressed on, disregarding everything except his mission. Earth must hear about this and it needed to know that there were survivors that needed help. And fire-extinguishers.

As he drew close to the ship it reached out, the rippling skin sweeping past him and pulling him inside.