Machine Intelligence

By Matthew Jarpe

The first spaceship to reach Alpha Centauri arrives with a crew of 30 maladjusted genius teenagers. The ship's computer that raised and taught them skimped on the former and overachieved on the latter. But the Thinker had never been designed to raise children. That had been a horrible mistake. Now Audrey Callico, the dumbest kid on the ship, must stop her siblings from starting an interstellar war. Matthew Jarpe is the author of RADIO FREEFALL, which Sci-Fi Weekly called "One of the first truly new cyberpunk visions in recent years."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matthew Jarpe
• Release date: Feb 21, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458090553

Matthew Jarpe

Matthew Jarpe lives in Quincy, Massachusetts with his wife Michelle and their son Sam. He works as Director of Biological Screening at Acetylon Pharmaceuticals.

Book preview

Prologue

Fiona Nidar felt her breath fragment into ragged gasps as panic set in. The Belter Emmit Krause held her feet down on the table as Captain Birnbaumer fastened the straps. The genetically modified Krause was far too strong to fight against, but fight she did. One leg slipped free and she pulled back to slam her heel into his solar plexus. She hit solid bone. His anatomy differed from human norm so much that the Pan Solar Alliance didn’t even legally classify him as human.

Krause’s elongated elfin face showed no emotion as he recaptured her foot and strapped it in. Fiona struggled more but it did her no good. She forced herself to climb down from blind panic. Her body wasn’t going to get her out of this. Time to channel that fear in a new direction. She still had one weapon available to her. She still had her voice. She concentrated on Krause.

His hairy pointed ears swiveled involuntarily to listen to the Captain and Dr. Lee discuss the procedure. He kept his eyes averted. Fiona couldn’t be sure but they looked sad to her. Fiona had been the only crewmember he’d had regular contact with for the last seven years. Yes, that contact had taken the form of a series of punishments he planned for her that verged on torture, but Fiona thought Krause might actually miss her when she was gone.

As strange as Emmit Krause looked, Fiona knew he was the most human man in the room. Captain Birnbaumer hid his deformity under a handsome face, but underneath he was a monster. Fiona had stood up against him from the very start, as you would expect any good Martian to do. As the journey began she thought he was merely incompetent. She wanted to teach him a thing or two about leadership. But as his responses to her challenge escalated she found out that incompetence didn’t cover his defect at all. She had taken a position as crew under a psychopath.

Dr. Weng Ho Lee was nothing but Birnbaumer’s puppet. He had gone against his Hippocratic oath under Birnbaumer’s orders from the very start of the mission. He had modified the crew psychologically and physically without their knowledge, he had hidden information from them that would affect their health, and now he was doing this. Whatever this was.

In the last month Fiona had begun to see a way out of her terrible situation. She couldn’t go back to Mars, the Winitz was moving far to fast for anyone to return to the solar system now. She couldn’t make Birnbaumer see reason. But she could make everyone else see reason. She could remove Birnbaumer as Captain. She had spoken to most of the crew and she knew they were behind her. Ten years into the voyage of the Winitz, still short of the halfway point between Sol and Alpha Centauri, the crew had agreed to mutiny. They followed Fiona now.

Birnbaumer had tried everything he knew to keep control over the twenty three crewmembers. Everything that is except genuine leadership. Whatever he had planned now was the last desperate act of a man on the brink of losing everything. Fiona knew that couldn’t be good for her.

She pulled against the straps holding her arms above her head but didn’t feel them give even a little. The three men loomed over her. Dr. Lee did something she couldn’t see and she felt the cold sting of alcohol on the hollow of her elbow.

You’ll feel a little pinch, he said. That’s the last pain you’re going to feel, however.

What the hell are you doing? Fiona asked.

Something we should have done a long time ago, Birnbaumer said. We never should have let a Martian on this ship.

So you’re going to kill me? You know what the crew is going to do when they find out?

We’re not going to kill you, Lee said. I’m a doctor, Miss Nidar. I swore to do no harm.

Were you upholding that oath when you installed narcolepticons in our brains while you gave us all physicals? Fiona noticed the look of shock on Dr. Lee’s face when she said this. She wished she had told someone else about the sleep triggers. Gus Stivers should know about it. She had been waiting until she found out for sure that Birnbaumer was behind Lee’s manipulations. Now that they were taking her out she had left the crew defenseless against Birnbaumer’s most potent weapon. At least she could plant a seed of doubt in Birnbaumer’s scheming brain. If he thought the others knew, he might not attempt to use the narcoleptic trigger.

I do what I need to do for the good of this mission, Dr. Lee said.

Fiona ignored him. She locked eyes with Krause. She had one last chance. Krause, listen to me. You can stop this. You know this isn’t right. He’s using you …

Shut her up, Birnbaumer said. Fiona felt the needle slide into her arm. She didn’t have much time.

Krause, they keep you locked up in the back end of the ship so you can’t talk to us, so you can’t learn what kind of people we really are.

What kind of people? Krause said in his heavy Belter accent. I know what kind of people. I hear you. He turned away from her. I know what you think of me.

Fiona felt her eyes droop. Not much time. You can stop this, she said. Where was the famous Martian orator, the greatest talker on the Red Dust circuit? Come on, if you can’t talk around one unstable Belter what the hell good are you?

This isn’t permanent, Dr. Lee was saying. You’re going to be frozen for the remainder of the journey.

You can’t do that, Fiona said. Nobody can.

On the contrary, the freezing part is fairly straightforward.

It’s the thawing out we can’t manage, Birnbaumer said. But I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually. Until then, pleasant dreams.

But there were no dreams.

Chapter 1

Most of the first crèche was gathered on the bridge of the Traveler, for the first time in what seemed like years. This was a big event. The ship had dumped momentum through the Alpha Centauri system for over a hundred days, and the changes in acceleration were getting tiresome. Finally, though, they could rest. They were entering orbit around the second planet of Alpha Centauri A, their new home.

Audrey Callico drifted through the crowd, controlling her flight with nudges of her foot against any solid object, and with gentle sways of her long, thin arms. She scanned the faces of her crechemates, noting their excitement, apprehension, or pure joy.

The planet filled every viewscreen. White clouds, brown hills, vivid blue-green seas. Not unlike the pictures they’d been shown of Earth, except for the lack of vegetation on the land. It did have oxygen and presumably life. They’d figured that out using telescopic interferometry back in the Sol system. But what kind of life, well, that was up to the crew of Traveler to figure out.

Audrey, Sigrid said. Could you please move back against the wall? You’re in the way. Audrey did as she was told. She settled in next to Ivor Colldark, brooding in the corner, frowning down at his own viewscreen.

Pretty exciting, isn’t it? Audrey said.

Hmmm? Uh, sure, Audrey. He shifted slightly, reluctantly giving her a better view of the screen.

Hey, what’s that? It looks man made. Audrey stabbed her finger at the screen. The crechemates around her turned and frowned.

That’s the advance station, dope, Hillary whispered. It got here two years ago. Now keep quiet and try to stay out of the way.

Audrey leaned closer to the screen and recognized the design of the station. The all-mechanical advance had gotten to Alpha Centauri sooner because it didn’t have to worry about crushing any humans with fast accelerations. It had staked out mining resources, set up some recovery operations, and had reconfigured itself into a space station that would serve as a base for the first stage of colonization.

I want data, Sigrid Orn snapped. Thinker, isn’t the data retrieval supposed to be automatic? You told us we’d just have to wait and the sensors would do their thing.

So perhaps you should wait, Sigrid. Thinker’s voice was the calmest one on the bridge. You’ve been waiting for fifteen years. A few more moments shouldn’t be unbearable.

Ah, finally, Sigrid said as numbers started to file across the screen. Gravity, we knew that, surface temp, pressure. Now we’re getting to the good stuff. Spectral absorbencies in the water. Gemma…

I’m on it, Gemma Stivez said, her oversized blue eyes locked on the data screen in front of her. Give me a minute and I’ll tell you what you want to know.

OK, what does the rest of this mean? And what the hell is this name doing here? Sigrid tapped her finger on the viewscreen. Everyone turned to look at what she was pointing at. At the top of the screen was the word Ariel.

That’s what they named the planet, Audrey said. Everyone else was silent, waiting to see how Sigrid would react.

Who named it?

The people back at Sol, Audrey answered. The others seemed scared of a blow up. Audrey didn’t know why. The people who saw it with the telescope.

Well, was it their planet? Did they come all this way to live on it?

No, Audrey said. They sent us.

Then why do they get to name it? Sigrid screamed. This is our planet, our home. We live here. A space had cleared around her of several cubic meters. People were drifting back towards the walls. Thinker, get that name off the screen.

No, Thinker answered, his voice firm but gentle. I don’t care for the tone of your voice, Sigrid.

Larry, get that name off of there.

No one spoke for a few seconds. The names are part of the sensor software, Sigrid. Larry Solomon made a halfhearted attempt to pull up the code on the nearest screen. I’d have to recompile it. It could take me hours.

I don’t want you recompiling the sensor software, Larry, the Thinker said. I’m afraid I can’t allow that.

Sigrid looked up. It didn’t matter that there was no gravity, or that the Thinker was actually somewhere inside the computer core, whenever anyone addressed him, they looked up. It isn’t like you can do anything to stop us, Thinker. Larry, disconnect the Thinker before you start.

Disconnect the Thinker? Sigrid, listen to what you’re saying. Without him, hell, forget about hours. We’re talking days. We can’t run the ship without him.

Just do it. We’ll figure out how to run the ship.

I seriously doubt that, Sigrid. Larry, you know what would happen if you disconnected me. Let’s not be foolish, children.

We are not children! Sigrid screamed.

We can’t bring down the sensors now, Gemma pushed off from the wall and hovered in front of Sigrid. She held herself with her hands on her hips, toes hooked in the mesh, head thrown back. Audrey always marveled at how easily Gemma could capture everyone’s attention. Whether it was because of her painfully beautiful face or the smart things she always said, Audrey only knew that she herself could never command a room that way. I’ve been waiting too long to get a look at this place. What the hell difference does it make what we call it?

Sigrid’s right, Audrey said from her corner. We have to start this the right way. The Solars named everything in this system from a long way away. It wasn’t theirs to name. This is our home, and we have to make it ours.

Thank you, Audrey, but I can handle this. Larry, get to work on that software. Gemma, you’re just going to have to wait. The rest of you, try to get what you can out of the data we have.

I’d advise against disconnecting me at this time, the Thinker said. I won’t interfere with Larry’s work, and you may need me to repair the damage.

Sigrid glanced at Larry. Disconnect him anyway. I don’t care for the tone of his voice.

#

Audrey found Jeremy in his favorite cupboard and told him what had happened on the bridge. He might have been watching, but he didn’t interrupt her.

So they really disconnected the Thinker? That’s so oedipal.

Audrey nodded. It’s pretty obvious who’s in charge now.

She could see his dark eyes glinting through the narrow crack in the door. He’s served his purpose, anyway.

They’ll switch him back on eventually. They can’t really run the ship without him.

You don’t think so? Dallas seems to have the engines figured out, and Larry can handle the software. We don’t need the Thinker anymore. All he ever does anymore is boss us.

Well, now we have Sigrid for that. She wants me to ask you to work out some orbital mechanics for her.

Orbital mechanics is boring. Ivor can do that. I’m getting close to a quantum theory of gravity. You see, I figure that gravitons can move through any medium without loss of energy, right?

Audrey let him talk, even though she could understand less than one word in ten. He didn’t get to talk much, and Audrey was the only one who could get this close without freaking him out. Last week after hearing him talk about his latest grand unification theory, he even poked his finger out of the cupboard and nudged her toe to see if she was awake. As far as she knew, that was the most intimate human contact he’d made in years.

They were an odd couple. The smartest kid and the dumbest kid in the whole crèche, both outcasts, both completely outside of the factions and cliques and intrigues. Jeremy came out of hiding at night, when he knew only the Thinker was around to see him. He used the exercise room, so his bones wouldn’t erode in zero g, and when he had an idea he wanted to share with the rest of the crèche he’d type it on a screen and leave it for them to find in the morning. A couple of times, when they were young children, some of the boys had dragged him out of his cupboard, but he’d just gone limp and catatonic. No fun, so they left him alone most of the time.

Yeah, the Thinker had done a hell of a job raising Jeremy. He’d done his best with all of them, and sometimes Audrey couldn’t think of one of them that was completely sane. But he hadn’t been built to act as a nanny. That had all just been a terrible mistake.

Can you tell me about her again? Jeremy asked. Audrey hadn’t been listening. He was deep into the math of graviton decay. She couldn’t follow the math. She’d never got the knack. Audrey? Can you tell me about our mother?

Again? Jeremy, I’ve told you that story a hundred times. You remember everything. Why do you need me to keep telling it?

I like to hear you tell it. It’s a little different every time.

All right, then. Mary Cohen grew up in the tunnels of Mercury where one screw up could kill everybody. They took her on the mission to take care of the life support on the ship, a huge responsibility. And she was only 25 years old.

They all had to be young when they left Sol, so they’d still be young enough to set up the colony when they got there. Here, I mean. It’s hard to believe we’re actually here.

Reading their logs, it’s kind of sad. They were all so full of hope, so excited about the mission. Mary was excited, too, you can tell from her diary. But she didn’t let the other crew know about it, because she was in such a position of responsibility. She could never let her guard down. The Captain made her one of his staff officers.

Did she want that? Jeremy asked.

Oh, yes. She knew she was the best. You could tell that from her diary, too. She got to work right away making the environmental systems fool proof. She made a lot of changes from the original designs.

Lucky for us.

Right. We never would have survived if she hadn’t made everything redundant. Well, Captain Birnbaumer didn’t like her making all these changes by herself. He wanted everything run by him. But since Mary knew so much more than he did, they just ended up getting angry at each other.

Like Gemma and Sigrid.

History repeats, Audrey agreed. Mary got fed up with the Captain and went to the Martian orator Fiona Nidar, who everyone had started thinking of as the real leader of the mission. Fiona had some good ideas for smoothing things over, but of course once Birnbaumer found out those two were talking to each other, he smelled a conspiracy. So he booted Mary off of the command staff.

I’ll bet she didn’t like that, Jeremy said.

Fiona Nidar put it best when she said Mary went apeshit. Birnbaumer put all her responsibilities on other people, but of course by that time Mary had reconfigured the life support systems so that she didn’t really have any responsibilities. She needed something else to do, and Fiona suggested the incubators.

Us.

She made us, right. Well, first she redesigned and rebuilt the incubators, made them foolproof. Then she brought thirty embryos out of cold storage. Now, the plan for the mission was to bring out the embryos a few at a time to supplement the normal population growth rate. Only none of the women on the ship had gotten around to growing the population. They all had other jobs and not enough free time for any but the most recreational sex.

Like Sigrid and Gemma again.

Yeah, Audrey blushed. Anyway, Mary pulled out thirty embryos and started them cooking. Everyone on the crew was in favor of that except Birnbaumer and his flunkies, so that was when Birnbaumer started to figure out that he had a problem on his hands. He put Mary under arrest and confined her to her quarters. Then Fiona Nidar got everyone worked up about that.

Talking.

That’s all she ever did, Audrey said. "She talked her way onto the mission, then once she got on the ship she talked herself into a position of leadership, and when she didn’t like what Birnbaumer was doing, she talked up a mutiny.

Well, the Captain didn’t like that much so he had her frozen …

But that’s Fiona’s story.

Right. I’ll save that one for another time. Mary’s story is pretty much done. They had a mutiny and almost everyone died. All but one, who died later. The Captain, Mary, Krause. Twenty four people dead.

Leaving the ship to us.

Audrey nodded. And now we’re here. Mission accomplished. I’ll bet the people who built this ship and put in that sensor software never imagined how the mission would turn out.

Chapter 2

First order, we’ve got to name the planet, Sigrid said. There were only a dozen or so people on the bridge this time. Sigrid floated in the lotus position, her brown hair framing her cold, pale and, for the moment, peaceful face in an ever moving nimbus.

Well, Larry said, since I’m the one programming the sensor software, I took the liberty of calling it Larryland. I hope nobody minds.

They all laughed, even Sigrid. What do we know about Larryland, then, in case a better name suggests itself from the data?

We didn’t get much before you cut the sensor’s off, Gemma growled. There’s some kind of living thing in the water, that’s about all I know. It absorbs light like chlorophyll, but with a different spectral signature. It respires oxygen. It isn’t likely to be very big or very advanced, evolutionarily. I’m guessing something like blue-green algae. Nothing visible living on the land.

Sigrid nodded once. Colldark? What did you get?

Not enough. Ivor Colldark glared at Sigrid from under his heavy eyebrows. His fists stayed clenched, his knees drawn up to his chin, his feet hooked under the web. Audrey could see the tension in his back. He’d been working himself up to this defiance all day. Turn them back on, and I’ll tell you something.

Sigrid’s leg slipped out casually, but Ivor flinched as if she’d aimed a kick at him. Surely you can engage in a little hypothesizing, Ivor. Or don’t you want to be our planetologist? I’m sure someone else can have a go at the data. Anyone else here fancy herself a planetologist? A little physics, a little chemistry. Shouldn’t be too hard. Audrey, want to take a stab at it?

The laughter broke the tension. Ivor relaxed visibly, opening his fists and kicking over to the nearest terminal. I’ve got the atmospheric composition, he said. 250 milibars of oxygen, 900 milibars of nitrogen, water vapor, carbon dioxide. Looks pretty much compatible with our physiology, but there’s one problem. About 120 ppm hydrogen sulfide. I don’t know where it’s coming from, because there isn’t that much volcanic activity.

Is that bad? Sigrid asked.

Oh, yeah. We can’t breathe that stuff. Gemma shook her head. That’s a toxic concentration.

Too bad, Larry said. So, where to next? Tau Ceti?

We’ll think of something to make this place work, Sigrid said. Don’t worry about that. We’re all smart people. We’ll come up with something that will let us live down there on…

Mercapto, Audrey said.

Audrey, did you say something?

Audrey looked up and all eyes were on her. I just thought, with the sulfur in the atmosphere, we could call the planet Mercapto.

Sigrid smiled her usual condescending smile she wore when she spoke to Audrey. Audrey, I didn’t know you studied chemistry. I thought you didn’t do well in the sciences.

It’s math I can’t do, Audrey answered. I have no problem with the words.

Mercapto, Sigrid repeated. I kind of like it, I have to admit. It has a kind of a jaunty ring. ‘Where do you live?’ ‘On Mercapto’.

We can come up with something better, Gemma said. Once we know more about the place.

And we’ll be getting rid of the sulfur before we start to live there, Larry pointed out.

A thousand years from now, our descendants shouldn’t be able to say the name of their home without remembering what we did when we first got here. We have to respect the planet for what it is, not just beat it into submission and then pretend we found it that way, just perfect for us. Audrey stopped, embarrassed by the attention. I just thought that would be a good name.

I like it, Sigrid said. Mercapto it is.

Shouldn’t we vote? Gemma said.

Yes, a vote. What a charming idea, Stivez. Let’s make it a democracy. All in favor of Mercapto as the name for our new planet? Sigrid glanced around the room, and wherever her glance fell, crechemates flung their arms and legs out in agreement. Audrey opened her arms without being noticed. All opposed? Sigrid stared directly at Gemma.

Oh, never mind, Gemma said, pulling herself over to the doorway and launching herself out of the room.

That’s settled, then. Larry, type it in and we can restart the sensors.

I’ve left all the other planet names blank, for now.

Other planets? Sigrid raised an eyebrow. What were their names?

They’re all named after characters in The Tempest, by William Shakespeare, Ivor answered.

No, we can’t have that at all. We’re going to have to rename the lot.

I’ll just leave them blank for now, Larry said. As soon as someone comes up with some good names, he glanced at Audrey, I’ll put them in. He finished his work at the keyboard and the sensor data started coming through again. The diagram of the planet was now headed with the name Mercapto.

Now we can get back to work, Sigrid clapped her hands. Audrey pulled herself over to the door and went out to look for Gemma.

#

Audrey found Gemma in the corridor between the aquaculture tanks. It was one of Audrey’s favorite places. The tanks took care of the oxygen and food on the ship and they reminded her of Mary Cohen. The bright lights shone through the murky waters of the tanks and bathed the corridor in emerald. Gemma was in charge of the tanks. The algae was gen-modified not to overgrow, to keep scrubbing the air and making food with little intervention. Gemma didn’t have anything to do down here, but she pretended to be too busy to notice Audrey.

You don’t like Mercapto? Audrey asked. You can tell me if you don’t. I don’t mind.

I don’t give a shit about your stupid name, Audrey. Gemma scowled down at her data pad. She looked pretty even when she scowled. She had tied her blonde hair back and zipped her jumpsuit up to the neck. There were no boys in the room. It’s Sigrid making the decision that pisses me off. Just once I’d like to be consulted.

Why should she consult you?

Gemma blinked up at her. Audrey … Look, when you’re making a decision you ask the smartest people in the room what they think. It’s just what you do. It’s good leadership. This whole mission is a one woman show. Sigrid or Thinker, it’s all the same. We’re superfluous.

Sigrid can’t do this without you, Gemma. You know that.

Maybe I should let her try. Then she’d find out what I bring to the party. That’s it, I’ll go on strike. See how she gets along without a brilliant biochemist on the team.

But you’re only going to piss her off, Audrey said. And she’s going to try to find someone else to do your job, and they’ll make a mess of it. Gemma, we all have to live on that planet. That’s what we’re here for. People died to get us here. We had to grow up with Thinker as our mother so we could be here today. Don’t risk all that just to save your pride.

Gemma looked at Audrey with narrowed eyes. When did you figure out how to do that?

Do what?

Persuasion. You learn that from the Thinker?

I don’t know what you’re talking about, Audrey said.

Yeah, right. I’m going to do what you want, but not because of your talk. I have my own plan. I’m going to make Sigrid pay. Somehow. If you keep practicing that persuasion thing and get good at it I might find a use for you.

#

Alpha Centauri A was a G2 star with just three planets. That was about as many as you would expect in a binary system. Mercapto, the planet on which primitive life had evolved, was the second. The first was a dry rock orbiting close enough to the star to be tidally locked, one surface continuously baked and the other in shadow. The Solars, sticking to their theme of The Tempest had named it Caliban. Not a bad name, but it didn’t have anything to do with the planet itself. To Audrey, the half light/half dark image on the viewscreen reminded her of an embryo just before it split into two cells. She decided to call it Zygote.

After coming up with two good names, Audrey became the unofficial place namer. It was a responsibility she would rather not have had, but she took the job seriously. Everyone else on the ship was working away at the immediate task, which was to gather data about Mercapto in anticipation of the terraforming effort. Only Audrey had nothing to do. She was no good at anything that couldn’t have been automated by the ship’s computers. Even without the artificial intelligence of the Thinker, the computers could do enough to let thirty teenagers carry out their tasks fairly smoothly.

The third planet was a good sized jovian, maybe twice the size of Jupiter itself. This big planet was just outside AC’s liquid water zone, 19 light minutes from the star. It had over thirty moons, a nice ring system, and two good sized planetoids at the trojan points of its orbit. After considering the bright yellow/orange atmosphere of the planet, Audrey changed it’s official name from Prospero to Citron. She called the trojan planetoids Ante and Dietro, Italian for before and after as a small concession to the original Italian name of the planet.

The largest moon of Citron, formerly called Miranda, was an enigma. Ivor Colldark, the planetologist of the crèche, had been fascinated with it ever since they had entered