“My God, that’s a chilling prospect.”
“That’s why we need to get to the Aegis,” Hiccock said.
“Because it has a super computer?”
“Well, this particular cruiser was a Parnes-directed project. It has the biggest, fastest computer in the world, now that ALISON is dead.”
“Snoozing!” Kronos corrected. “ALISON is in sleep mode. In tens of millions of computers across the web.”
Mid-flight, Janice moved over and sat next to Bill, who was lost in thought looking out the window. “What’s got you looking like you lost your puppy, Bill?”
“I spent the better part of my life trying to achieve the unfettered thinking and advances to mankind that true artificial intelligence could achieve. And now I am responsible for killing it.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, Kronos recorded most of ALISON’s so-called gifts. Kronos thought he was going to be the richest man in the world.”
“He’s always looking for an angle.”
“Well, he didn’t find one this time. Over the last three days while we were waiting to get dug out, he and Parnes’s smart guys went through ALISON’s programming. The only thing ALISON seemed to get right was the brain mapping. Otherwise, she missed a couple of things. For instance, her longevity revelation will only work with synthetic life. Organic humans also have organic microbes, germs, and viruses. So it averages out to about eighty years.”
“You can’t fool mother nature.”
“Or father science either. The interplanetary space ship? It would take all the natural resources and energy of five planets the size of Jupiter to achieve light speed. Not very practical since we’d need one to get to the next Jupiter-sized planet outside our solar system.”
“But she got the brain thing right because she empirically learned the practical dynamics dealing with millions of brains. The baseline input was wrong on everything else, but given time we might have been able to input the practical and then maybe …”
“Hold on to your dreams, Billy. The reality is that all we did the other day was kill a killer.”
The Marine chopper was cleared for landing on the base’s helipad. The base commander, still buttoning his dress shirt, waited in a Jeep. Someone will pay for this, he thought as the spinning blades of Marine One slowed, not giving me any warning of a presidential visit. When the blades stopped, a hastily assembled band started to play “Hail to the Chief.” The lead Secret Service agent popped his head out of the copter. After scanning the area, he stepped aside for the president. Mitchell descended the small gangway to the tarmac and immediately gave the cut signal to the band. They abruptly stopped, with the resounding dissonance of a very inappropriate chord.
The base commander saluted the president. “Sir, I apologize. We had no advance warning of your …”
“That’s not a concern, Commander. We are here on a vital mission of national security. I need your Jeep.”
“Excuse me, Sir?”
“Thanks.” The president whistled as if hailing a cab. “Let’s go!” he called to the others in the chopper and then they were off. A Secret Service agent pulled a sailor from another Jeep and took off after his charge.
Hiccock was already up the gangplank and jumped down onto the deck. The captain of the Aegis cruiser was a little put off by this. Hiccock, realizing his error in nautical protocol, jumped back up on the plank.
“Permission to come aboard, Sir?”
“Who are you?”
“Science advisor to the president, William Hiccock, Sir. We need your boat.”
“It’s a ship, and what do you mean you need it?”
“That’s classified, Sir.”
“What? You barge onto my command and make demands … just who do you think you are?”
Another man came onto the deck from the gangplank. “I don’t know who he thinks he is, but I know who I am. Do you, Captain?”
The captain involuntarily blurted, “Holy shit.”
“That’s what I would have said, Captain. Now give this man and his team everything they ask for, without hesitation. Whatever they request is to be considered a direct order from me, is that clear?”
The captain was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. In one second’s worth of calculation, the lifelong Navy man uttered words he would have thought unthinkable sixty seconds earlier. “Sir, we have never met, and you do look like the president. But Sir, this is a warship of the United States. I cannot relinquish it to … I mean, Sir, there ain’t nothing in the book that covers this.”
Just then, one of the Secret Service agents clambered up the plank. Attached to his wrist was “the briefcase.”
“Mark, let me have the football,” the president ordered, his eyes locked on the captain as Mark uncuffed the case from his wrist and placed it on a munitions locker. The agent took the key from around his neck and opened the lock. The president opened his shirt and removed a key on a chain around his neck and inserted it into one of two keyholes on the console inside the briefcase. The agent inserted a second key into the other safety lockout switch and was about to turn it.
The president stayed locked on the captain’s eyes with a grim expression that was having the desired effect on the man. “I could launch a few nukes, if this isn’t proof enough.”
With his eyes as wide as biology allowed, the captain swallowed hard and snapped a salute. “Sir, the U.S.S. Princeton and her crew stand ready to serve, Sir.”
“Thank you, Captain. Mr. Hiccock.”
“Kronos.”
“Yo, Captain, we need to get to the computer room and we need your best guy.”
“Ensign, take them below and get Mr. Carson to the ECM room.”
Kronos and the Admiral followed him.
“Who’s the woman?” the captain asked.
“That’s Admiral Henrietta Parks,” the president said.
“Day for surprises, Sir. Would you like to have my quarters, Sir?”
“Actually, Captain, I want you to trim your crew. Just the essential personnel that you’ll need to keep the computers going and to be ready to steam out twenty miles. Oh, and I want my helicopter to land on your deck.”
The captain took all this in with an air of incredulity. “Yes, Sir, anything else?”
“Yes. If you have any personal items onboard, please leave them on the pier.” That last statement confused the hell out of the captain, but, hey, this was the president.
“I’ll have to alert the harbormaster of our estimated time of departure.”
“Hopefully in twenty minutes. Tell him it’s classified.”
“Sir …”
“Yes, Captain,”
“Are we now Navy One?”
The president descended the ladder and joined the team in the electronic countermeasures room.
“Attention on deck.”
Every sailor, whether working or not, stood and snapped to attention.
“Carry on, men.”
They stared at their Commander in Chief.
“Just out enjoying one of my boats, men,” the president mused to relax the crew.
“Ship, Sir,” a startled-that-he-even-said-it ensign pointed out.
The president turned and shot him a look, then softened. “Excuse an old Air Force fighter jockey. Sorry, no disrespect intended to your fine ship, Ensign.” He turned to Kronos, “How’s it going?”
“Well, I got the attractor written and the Admiral is creating the firewall that will fool the code. We’ll be ready to try it in five minutes.” The president gestured for Hiccock to follow him. They moved to the officer’s mess, asking a couple of stunned officers to give them the room.