The AI War Read Online Free PDF Page A

"No, I suppose it wasn't. The facts stated are correct, Commander T'Lan?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "Have you anything to add?"
    "Where I'm from, sir, we pay for what we get."
    D'Trelna sighed. "You're from a subtropical paradise larger than our capital, Commander. You were raised in a garden—everyone in your father's employ, no one except tutors and guardians about to deny you anything. And you had a generous allowance, no doubt. That's what you mean, isn't it?"
    "Yes, sir."
    The commodore nodded curtly. "Wheru we are now, Commander T'Lan, is a big chunk of space that's probably hostile and is certainly a long way from home."
    "I'm aware of that, sir."
    "You're aware of it, sir. But do you know what it means? There's just this big old ship and a few hundred of us. To succeed, to even survive, we must work together. That means, T'Lan, a minimum of friction, a low level of animosity. There should be some friendship, some good feeling." He waved his hands. "Whatever. But I insist-any competent commander would insist—that there at least be mutual respect. To offer a shipmate money for an act of friendship is disrespectful. Clear?"
    "Clear, sir. Sir, I am due on watch in—"
    "You transferred aboard off Terra, Commander. You have been condescending, petulant, lazy and certainly insensitive. That will change. Clear?"
    "Sir ..."
    "Is that clear, Commander T'Lan?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "You are heir to a rich and powerful dynasty, Commander. Although of combat age the last two years of the war, you were medically deferred for . . ." His eyes searched the screen. "What is 'severe melancholia,' Commander?"
    "Sir, it is a condition of dysfunctional depression occasioned—"
    "Never mind. You were directly commissioned and assigned as this expedition's Alien Artifacts Officer over many others far older and far better qualified than you. To date, you've shown yourself unworthy of the trust reposed in you by Fleet and Confederation." And the enormous bribes it must have taken to get you here, he added silently. "That will change, won't it?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "The watch preceding your duty-time for the next four weeks will be spent as part of a team, replacing some of the older hullside sensor clusters. It is tiring, tedious work. It can be dangerous if you don't cooperate with your teammate. Space"—he jerked his thumb over his shoulder— "forgives nothing."
    "Yes, sir."
    "I hope for your sake and ours, Commander T'Lan, that your attitude and performance change. Quickly."
    "I assure the commodore—"
    "Don't assure me. Show me. Dismissed."
    D'Trelna touched the commlink as the door hissed shut. "L'Wrona," he said.
    The captain's face appeared in the scan. "Did you chew on him, J'Quel?" he asked with a smile.
    The commodore nodded. "Surprised me and took it well. Who knows? There may be hope."
    "And you?"
    "A sharp homily to S'Til—tempering anger with reason. She didn't protest the detail."
    "Does she know who her teammate will be?"
    "She will secondwatch, when they suit up."
    "I'd like to see that." They both chuckled.
    "We're about to make the final jump," said L'Wrona.
    "Ominous."
    "You know what I mean."
    "Fine. Sound briefing call as soon as we jump and we'll give them the happy news."
    "How far from home, any idea?" asked Zahava.
    "Over three hundred light-years," said John. High atop Implacable, they had the small observation dome to themselves. Outside, the hull swept past them, a mile to the bridge, another mile back to engines, half a mile to either side: a gray expanse of battlesteel broken by weapons turrets and instrument pods.
    "Earth's not even a point of light anymore," he said. The stars were few and scattered in this part of the galaxy. The brightest object was a swirling red nebula, thousands of light-years away across the interstellar rift.
    "One month," said Zahava, "and I've had it with the majesty of space."
    On Terra, they'd been an odd couple: John, a slim, blue-eyed WASP; Zahava, a petite, olive-skinned Israeli. On Implacable, no