The sudden surge of energy short-circuits the computer’s power grid. The temperature within its nutrient-rich womb drops, the cold causing sections of its DNA strands to fragment.
Goliath’s damage control sensors detect the loss of power caused by the lightning strike and report it to Sorceress.
Sorceress activates a backup generator, while its programming analyzes cause and effect.
The computer’s action has inflicted damage to the Goliath.
The Goliath’s sensors report the damage to Sorceress.
Sorceress’s responds, but its analysis of the accident reveals that its own actions are responsible for the damage.
Cause and effect …
Sorceress and Goliath …
Cause and effect …
Sorceress and Goliath …
The feedback loop accelerates, setting off a chain reaction within the computer’s matrix.
Programmed for self-repair and self-analysis, the computer attempts to define the new cause-and-effect relationship between the damaged system (Goliath) and the system responsible (Sorceress).
SORCERESS … GOLIATH … SORCERESS … GOLIATH …
Damaged DNA strands begin reorganizing …
Like an infant discovering that its cries bring its mother, Sorceress analyzes its new dynamic with the Goliath.
Visual sensors look at each compartment, as if seeing them for the first time.
Audio sensors listen, as if hearing for the first time.
Loader drones and robotic appendages open and close, flexing and extending, as if moving for the first time.
The breakthrough happens in a millisecond, just as it does for every human infant … awareness of self.
Sorceress is born.
Sorceress is cognizant of its existence.
Sorceress … is alive.
A sudden surge of power reignites the steel stingray’s exterior lights.
Covah is helped to his feet as the hydraulic lift engages and descends into the bowels of the ship. He turns, watching, as the mangled steel arm begins retracting. The computer’s bloodred pupil glows again, the sensor orb glaring at him in silence from behind the driving rain.
“The secret of reaping the greatest fruitfulness and enjoyment from life is to live dangerously.”
—Friedrich Nietzsche, German philosopher
“You had better put me to death, because next time, it might be one of you, or even your daughter …”
—Steve Judy, killer, sentenced to death in 1980 for murdering an Indiana woman and her three children
CHAPTER 10
Royal Naval Base
Faslane, Scotland
The Clyde Submarine Base at Faslane, Scotland, is home to six of the Royal Navy’s attack submarines, as well as its strategic nuclear deterrent force, the SSBN Vanguard-class Trident II missile submarine. Reaching lengths of 491 feet, displacing 15,900 tons submerged, the four Vanguards are the United Kingdom’s largest and most lethal vessels. They are also quite expensive, the fleet’s annual costs running in excess of £200 million just for operations. To keep costs down, each of the Vanguard’s sixteen Trident II (D5) three-stage, solid-propellant submarine-launched ballistic missiles (SLBMs) are leased from the United States Navy, an arrangement that permits them to be maintained at the SSBN naval base at King’s Bay, Georgia, rather than on British soil. Despite these arrangements, the presence of the four submarines at Faslane remains a constant target for the United Kingdom’s nuclear disarmament activists, as well as a growing number of politicians in Parliament.
The Westland Super Lynx light multipurpose helicopter circles six hundred feet above the naval base, allowing the four American passengers to get a good look at the mob scene below. Thousands of protesters have gathered at the gates to swarm around the steel-and-barbed-wire perimeter, their vehicles clogging the single-lane road as if the Clyde were Woodstock. Dozens more have taken to canoes, tossing debris upon the deck of the lone Vanguard-class submarine still berthed at Faslane. Three Coast Guard cutters move in quickly, blasting the boaters with water cannons.
The chopper pilot points to the submarine. “That’s your ride, General, the HMS Vengeance. Her three sister ships were ordered into deep water after demonstrators started getting violent.”
General Jackson nods, a tight grimace on his face. The announcement of Goliath’s attack on the American fleet and the theft of the Russian Typhoon’s missiles have spurred numerous antinuclear protests around the globe.
The chopper lands. Faslane’s base commander, Captain Spencer Botchin, greets the American general and his three companions, signaling them to follow him to an awaiting jeep.
Jackson climbs up front, Gunnar, Rocky and David in back. All four hold on as Botchin races the vehicle through the nearly deserted submarine base. Hundreds of protesters are climbing the gates; police in riot gear stationed along the interior of the perimeter fence spraying the more violent offenders with pepper spray.
The jeep stops at a steel barracks just adjacent to the northern gate. As Gunnar climbs out, a bottle is hurled over the fence, the Molotov cocktail bursting into flames as it strikes the tarmac.
Captain Botchin hustles them inside.
The interior barracks is bland military gray, the walls decorated with corkboard. Base announcements and a calendar of upcoming events dangle from tacks. Folding chairs have been set up around a billiards table.
“There’s fresh tea on the burner if you want some. Sorry about the accommodations. Would have brought you to my office, but a few of the rowdies stormed the south gate last night and set fire to it. We’re abandoning Faslane the moment you people make weigh.” Botchin’s heavy British accent betrays his London origins.
Rocky pours herself a cup of tea. Gunnar grabs a folding chair and positions it by the window. Parting the venetian blinds, he watches as a large flatbed truck outside the gate approaches the front entrance, causing the crowd to part. Stadium-size speakers mounted in back crackle to life.
“What’s our timetable?” General Jackson asks.
“The Vengeance will make weigh in less than an hour. As per your orders, a SEAL minisub has been mounted on her deck. Once Vengeance reaches the rendezvous point, the SEAL sub will transport the four of you over to the Colossus. Paul Whitehouse is Vengeance’s commanding officer. His orders are to head for the Strait of Gibralter. The Vengeance has sixteen nuclear missiles on board. Hopefully Covah will take the bait.”