“Sit down, Quan,” Absen said as Tobias showed him in.
Ekara took a seat in front of the desk, holding a tablet.
“I’ve looked at everyone else’s reports of Michelle’s training,” Absen went on. “She’s off the charts in everything but emotional responses, which are normal. Loneliness, topical depression, mood swings. Bull did a fantastic job setting up the parameters. Even limited her contact with Desolator to e-mails once a day. And the way he integrated Marine VR training simulations was absolutely brilliant. Even if she can’t run a warship, she’ll be one hell of a battle drone operator.”
Ekara replied, “It’s not her competence I worry about, Admiral. It’s not that she is a mechanical instead of an organic. It’s not even her emotional stability, if she were any ordinary being. Stick her in StormCrow or a battle drone, hell, even give her a whole weapons battery and I’m all for it. In fact, I think she’d be perfect to run the offensive-defensive laser batteries. Much better than our current algorithms.”
“But?”
“But I can’t see giving her the run of the ship. Power corrupts. What if she feels threatened? No, better question, sir: what if you were her?”
“Specifically?” Absen tried to pin down just what Ekara was trying to say.
“What if you were held captive by a bunch of dwarves, none of whom were individually as smart as you? What if they had your body nailed to the floor with a knife at your throat, while they asked you to use your brain to do their work for them? Even if you were sympathetic, you’d still be looking for a way to get out of that spot. To reduce your vulnerability.”
“She’s no more vulnerable than most humans. One blast from a plasma rifle and any one of us is dead.”
Ekara leaned forward and seemed to grope for a way to express himself. “But we have laws and customs and...and the military culture to keep our individual paranoia in check. We don’t worry too much that someone will come assassinate us in our beds just because everyone has access to weapons, because instinctively we realize we’re part of a brotherhood, a family of arms. She doesn’t have that, training or no training. And...no matter what we want her to believe, she knows deep down that she is not human. Not like we are. She never will be. That’s a recipe for instability, for resentment and eventually for revolt.”
Absen turned to pour two cups of coffee, and then set one in front of Ekara. He used the time and ritual to think about what his chief power engineer just said. Only after a contemplative sip did he respond.
“I think you’re right.”
“You do? Sir?” Ekara turned his tablet upside-down in his lap and set his coffee mug on it.
“Yes.”
“So you’re not going to let her inhabit the ship? Not like the Desolator AI does Desolator the ship, I mean?”
“Not yet. Not without being more sure.” Absen’s eyes held Ekara’s, blinking slowly.
“Ah. Well. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Listening to me.”
Absen set down his cup. “I make it a policy of listening to my senior officers, even if I don’t see eye to eye with them. Especially if I don’t, actually. Opposing viewpoints make me justify my own views, or sometimes they alter them. But Quan...it doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind as time goes on.”
“Understood.” Ekara picked his coffee up in one hand and waved his tablet in the other. “You still want my final report?”
“Of course. Shoot it to my desk.”
***
Graduation took place not in Michelle’s CPU room, but in the basic training hall. The mishmash of physical and virtual training aids had been cleared – the link medusas, crystal routers, compressed quantum scanners and all the other tools of the cyberneticist’s trade. Ditto the furniture and comforts the Marines and Navy personnel needed during the intense shifts they spent linked in, living ten hours for every one so that their trainee could get the full experience.
The holoprojectors had been left in place, and the parabolic speakers that could cause speech to emanate from any point in space. Michelle had taken a hologram body nearly indistinguishable from an organic’s, at least to the senses of sight and sound. Technology was still a long way from creating some kind of sci-fi “force field” that could simulate touch. Smell and taste were not even on the table.
“Cadet Michelle Conquest, front and center.” Absen and the rest of the EarthFleet members wore dress uniform, the civilians their best suits. All around them, packed in tight formation, stood as many of the humans, military and construction crew alike who could fit into the room. Others watched on monitors around the two ships.
The avatar marched with parade-ground perfection, squaring her corners, her boots seeming to click on the hard deck, a nice touch. She stopped directly in front of Absen and popped an impeccable salute. “Cadet Michelle Conquest reports as ordered, sir.”
“Attention to orders!” Bull ben Tauros’ voice rang out in stentorian tones. The entire room snapped to, and he narrated the framed sheet of foolscap appointing her as a warrant officer in EarthFleet. “...given under my hand this day, 21 August, 2125. Signed, Henrich J. Absen, Admiral, EarthFleet, Commanding,” he finished.
Admiral Absen cleared his throat. “Raise your right hand and repeat after me: I, state your name...”
“I, Michelle D. Conquest...”
“Do solemnly swear to support and defend the Constitution of EarthFleet and its nations...”
Michelle repeated the entire Oath of Office – flawlessly, of course – and Absen could have sworn he saw her eyes tear up. He wished he could fully credit what he was seeing was no illusion, no manipulation of a very clever machine.
“Congratulations, Warrant Officer First Conquest. Shoulderboards.”
Bull ben Tauros and Doctor Egolu moved to each side of her to attach the epaulets that showed the insignia of her new rank. The VR-holo interface put the shoulderboards into the hands of the two, creating the near-perfect illusion that they really did attach something of substance to a real person standing there.
Absen had to suppress the impulse to shake WO1 Conquest’s hand and settled for a salute instead. She grinned, and he couldn’t help responding in kind. About-face, and she marched back to her position.
She’s so damn likable. But anything made of nothing but 4D holo-pixels and programming might be a simulation.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you have just witnessed an historic first. While a number of Sekoi and Ryss have been sworn into EarthFleet proper, and all forces in this system are under EarthFleet command, until now no AI has actually joined. Of course, there weren’t a lot around to join...” Absen paused for a few obligatory chuckles. “But we’ve remedied that. Please give a round of applause to our very first inorganic human officer.”
He led them in that applause, putting on his best flag-officer smile and hoping to hell he wasn’t lying about her humanity.