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Option Three [Original Fiction]

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Ack, Mar 9, 2015.

  1. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    When aliens try to invade a near-future Earth, they run into unexpected problems ...

    Part One (below)
     
  2. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Option Three

    First Iteration​


    Introduction: the Invaders

    The Collective fleet came in from high above the ecliptic. One by one, they appeared in realspace, the autonav systems disengaging the discontinuity drives, until all seven ships hung there in the void; huge, dark, deadly. Harbingers of a coming doom.

    The sixth planet out from the primary had been chosen as a preliminary staging ground; a large gas giant, it lacked the more elaborate coloured banding of its next closest neighbour, but made up for it with a magnificent ring system. It was into that ring system that the captains directed their ships. The rings, composed of particles ranging in size from dust to gravel to slowly tumbling chunks of rock and water ice larger than any of the Collective vessels, would serve admirably as camouflage.

    Passive scans had detected numerous orbital facilities based around the target planet, as well as installations on its overlarge moon, and yet more on the fourth planet, so caution was advised; the probability of at least one of those facilities or installations having telescopes aimed at the outer system was very high indeed.

    So the Collective ships were running dark and silent, with no extraneous emissions, and with an exterior albedo only slightly higher than that of interstellar space. Only if something came within actual visual range were they likely to be detected, and even if that did happen, whatever did the detecting would very shortly cease to exist.

    Probe craft were prepared by four of the Collective ships; each holding three crew, chosen and equipped to resemble members of the race that called itself 'humanity'. Their mission was to land stealthily in areas of low population, to observe and to send back observations.

    For the first part of the insertion, they were disguised as meteors, small rocks that would burn up in the atmosphere, allowing the ship within to descend undetected to the planet below. The ships were sent off on their courses, and the respective crews kept a close watch on the telemetry.

    Which was cut off abruptly, one probe after another going dead, while still well clear of planetfall. The fourth, sent to angle around the planet's moon, also went dead, but the information sent back was both sobering and informative.

    The planet, it seemed, had meteor-guard satellites set up, ready to take out anything that could possibly come close enough to cause problems. And, equally unwelcome, the planet's moon had its own batteries of laser cannon, apparently set up for the same purpose. There had been a bad moment when the first probe ship disintegrated, but it seemed now that the inhabitants of this planet had not detected the interlopers. Automatic systems had been merely disposing of a potential danger to the population.

    The Council of Captains conferred via hyperwave, even as their ships re-situated themselves around the periphery of the inner system, in among the belt of planetoids situated between the fourth and fifth planets. Running dark and silent, they did their best to pretend to be rocks themselves.

    Subtle infiltration, overthrow and conquest seemed to be off the table now; with closer analysis of the situation, it seemed that the inhabitants of this planet were well advanced into a digital society, and that anyone not showing up on the 'grid' would be quickly marked out.

    This 'grid', a digital matrix, blanketed the planet virtually from pole to pole; one of the Captains posited that if the 'grid' could be subverted for the invaders' own use, conquest may yet be simple and easy. A stealthed scout ship was carefully placed in an orbit that would not intersect the meteor guard perimeter, yet close enough to attempt wireless intrusion of the matrix. For purposes of security, it was out of contact with its mothership for the duration of the scouting mission; while hyperwave comms seemed to be beyond the capabilities of the inhabitants of the planet, there was the chance that someone would pick up something. So they heard nothing from the scout ship until it returned on the slingshot orbit.

    The ship answered no hails, performed no braking manoeuvres. It looked to whip right by the waiting mothership, until it was snagged by a tractor beam and brought inboard. A cautious investigatory team found the four-being crew in emergency cryo-stasis, and the computers to be so much dead weight.

    Decanted, the crew told a harrowing tale; within the first few seconds of opening a channel to a high-traffic node, the scout ship had been bombarded by an endless torrent of virii, malware, spyware, pop-ups and sexual organ enlargement advertisements. The computers, specifically set up to accept all data from the planet below, had not stood a chance; they had been trashed before anyone was able to shut off the connection. Drive controls had been the first to fail, followed by life support. They hadn't even been able to call for help, as the hyperwave comms were computer-controlled as well. So all they'd been able to do was place themselves in cryo-sleep – manually – and hope they survived until pickup.

    The scout ship's systems were scraped clean of the intruding code – it took three tries and a total reformat of the onboard computers – and digital warfare was ruled out. A tentative hypothesis was that 'those digital savages' were so used to the damaging code running around in their matrix that they simply didn't notice it; their own systems were probably immunised against everything that could hurt them.

    Infiltration, either physical or digital, was thus ruled out. The Council of Captains once more met in hyperwaved virtual conference. They voted on whether to proceed, and how.

    One captain suggested simply leaving, moving on. This planet was not even at war, and its peacetime defences, its digital matrix, had proved horrifically dangerous in their own right. What would they be like if actually made aware of the threat?

    The proposal was shouted down by the other six Captains. They still had the element of surprise. A tailored EMP burst would almost certainly shut down the digital matrix, or at least cripple it. The meteor guard satellites, the lunar laser batteries, could be targeted from range and neutralised. These barbarians had no hyperwave comms, no discontinuity drive; where the intruders had erred was attacking them on their strengths. Destroying those strengths, then doing the same to their various military forces, would allow the invaders to subdue the civilian populations with relative ease.

    Option one had been physical infiltration. Option two was digital attack. Option three was overt assault.

    They voted; it was six in favour, one abstaining.

    They would proceed with Option Three.


    ><><​

    Part 1: Laura Harcourt

    Laura Harcourt climbed into the driver's seat of the AutoCar and kicked her shoes off. Ignoring the recessed pedals and the retracted steering wheel, she tucked her legs up under her as the 'Car picked up speed and effortlessly merged with traffic. Most of the other vehicles on the road at that point were also 'Cars, or automated delivery trucks; each of them was automatically linked-in to every other DLV within fifty metres, feeding one another their projected courses and setting up cooperative platooning.

    Laura was a friendly and outgoing redhead; her parents had opted to have her coded for a high sociability index. They had also selected gene complexes for competitiveness, fast-twitch muscle growth and blonde hair; she had accepted the sociability and competitiveness, but she didn't like blonde hair and she didn't want to be an athlete. So, three days after she turned twenty-one, she'd gone into NewU and had her hair follicles re-engineered and her hair-trigger reflexes dialled back a notch.

    She had also met her future life-partner in the clinic. Geri had been waiting for gender reassignment treatment, and they had struck up a conversation. A week later, Gerry had asked her out on a date, and she had accepted. Now, seven years down the line, they had been happily married for four of those years and Gerry - now Geri again - was considering getting pregnant, "just to see what it's like".

    Laura thought it was an interesting idea, but she drew the line at cherry-picking too many aspects about the baby. The standard immunities, sure; likewise, the longevity complex. But surely a child had the right not to be forced into one stereotype, one gender identity. She thought her life-partner was a little excessive, with zir semi-regular gender changes, but zie had the right idea. If they became invested in a specific appearance or worldview for the child, and the child decided to change those things, might they end up loving him, her or zie less than totally?

    A soft chime sounded, breaking her out of her thoughts. The 'Car's impersonal voice spoke quietly. "You have an incoming call from Delmont, Francine. Do you want to accept this call?"

    Laura didn't want to; but Francine was one of the senior partners of Delmont, Delmont, Ord and Layne. She co-ran the legal section of DDO&L with her clone-sister Kathryn, and was thus, in a roundabout way, Laura's boss. Laura didn't work directly for DDO&L, but she did a lot of contract work for them; they were branching into the entertainment industry, where Laura had her specialty.

    She sighed. “Go ahead,” she told the 'Car.

    Part of the windshield immediately reformatted as a HUD, projecting Francine Delmont's sharp features into the air in front of Laura.

    Harcourt,” she greeted Laura. “I need you on the Rockwell case.”

    Laura frowned, “Rockwell?” A pause, as she recalled the information. “Ms Delmont, Vancouver Rockwell defaulted on a standard contract. No visible extenuating circumstances.”

    He's very high-profile. This could be a real win for DDO&L.”

    “Or a real defeat,” Laura pointed out. “The man refused to work alongside a virtua-AI unless he had significantly more screen time than the AI. That's clear discrimination.”

    Francine attempted a conciliatory tone; it didn't fit with her features. “Look, I know you've got a soft spot for VAIs, but - “

    “Ms Delmont,” interrupted Laura. “I've spent the last six years of my life dragging AI rights into the spotlight again and again. Ever since Snuggy vs Hypermedia Inc, the public has been becoming increasingly aware that VAIs are just as 'real' as robotic AIs, and should have the same rights. Just because their only visible existence is animating a virtual character in a movie or TV show does not mean they are anything less than a complete AI. If I were to defend this – this wife-beater against charges of VAI discrimination, it would undermine everything I've worked toward.”

    Harcourt,” Francine responded, her tone noticeably sharper than before, “surely I don't need to remind you that Vancouver Rockwell is the latest up-and-coming action sensation. The studios are falling over each other to sign him to their productions. If we win this, the publicity for DDO&L will be significant.”

    Laura suddenly realised what Francine wasn't saying. “And you need me in your corner. I'm the big VAI supporter; if I say -”

    She broke off, aware of what she'd been just about to say. If I say it's not discrimination, then it's not discrimination.

    Yes?” urged Francine, just a shade too eagerly.

    She just tried to trick me into a soundbite that she could have taken out of context.

    Analysis software was good enough to determine if words had been cut and pasted into a vocal recording, but a complete sentence, uncut, would still pass muster, even if the speaker meant something else altogether. And Francine Delmont had just tried to manoeuvre Laura into uttering such a damaging sentence.

    “You want a statement?” she asked sweetly. “Here's my statement. What Vancouver Rockwell attempted to do was nothing more or less than discrimination against a VAI, and I will not support it in any way, shape or means.”

    Harcourt -” began Francine Delmont, but she got no farther than that before the signal suddenly cut out. The windscreen HUD registered nothing more than three-dimensional snow, and the AutoCar began to noticeably reduce in speed.

    “Car?" she asked. "What's happening? What's going on?”

    Unknown event,” the 'Car's computer informed her. “Local network temporarily disrupted. Enacting emergency protocols.”

    As it spoke – still in the same soothing, impersonal voice that was the trademark of the AutoCar – the dome light in the middle of the roof began to pulse slowly, dully, with a red glow.

    “Is it possible to get me home?” asked Laura, now beginning to feel honest fear.

    Your destination is seventeen point six kilometres distant,” the 'Car responded. “No information on conditions between here and there, due to network disruption."

    Can you get me home?" she persisted.

    "The AutoCar Corporation has contracted to get you home, Ms Harcourt, and it will -"

    The 'Car's voice paused, then resumed. "Emergency override in effect. This vehicle has been requisitioned. Please exit the vehicle once it has come to a complete stop. You will be picked up shortly."

    Laura struggled to make sense of what was going on as the 'Car rolled to a halt at the side of the road. "Wait, what?" she demanded. "What's going on?"

    "This vehicle is needed elsewhere," the 'Car informed her. "Please get out. Now."

    As if to underline its point, her door unlatched itself and swung open; the seat belt clicked open and sprang back into its recess.

    "But ... how do I get home?" she protested blankly.

    Another 'Car will be along shortly. Don't forget your shoes.”

    Laura found herself standing on the pavement, shoes in hand, as the 'Car accelerated into an apparently suicidal U-turn across six lanes of streaming traffic. However, instead of causing the seemingly-inevitable pileup, each car or truck braked or accelerated just sufficiently to allow it past, then resumed normal speed. The ripple this caused in traffic was gone in seconds.

    Other people were also standing by the road, looking bewildered. She turned to the nearest, a distinguished looking older man. He appeared Asian by phenotype, but that was not unusual; it was a growing fad with upper-middle management types. His appearance could have been due to a NewU cosmetic job, a full-body genetic makeover, or random genes expressing in that fashion. Or he might even have been Asian; Laura neither knew nor cared.

    “Can you believe this?” she asked.

    He shrugged. “It's happening. I'm not sure exactly what's happening, but there it is. And here we are, by the side of the road.”

    The other man near to her, a younger exec-type, pointed at something behind Laura. “What's that over there?”

    She turned, as did the older gentleman.

    The stretch of freeway upon which Laura had been deposited ran over a low range of hills. In the distance, perpendicular to the line of traffic, a distant plume of smoke climbed skyward. Laura thought she felt a shudder through the soles of her feet, as of a shockwave passing beneath her. And then the aircraft appeared, streaking in from the direction of the smoke, before turning their noses to the vertical and zooming skyward faster than Laura could track with her eyes. All she was left with was an impression of sleek, dark darts, dangerous and hungry-looking.

    The sonic boom racketed over them; Laura dropped to her knees, her hands over her ears. When she took her hands away, her ears still rang, but she heard the two men conversing.

    “I'm not an expert, but I know most of the aircraft the Air Force uses,” the older man commented. “I didn't recognise those.”

    “My firm works closely with the Air Force in certain matters,” the younger man stated with finality. “I know every craft in the inventory. Those weren't part of it.”

    “Secret projects?” ventured the older man.

    Including the secret projects,” the younger man added. “Those weren't ours. By that performance, they weren't any aircraft I know of.”

    “So who could have done this?” asked the older man. “Who would attack us so blatantly? What would they stand to gain?”

    The younger man shook his head. “No-one. There's no good reason.”

    He had a point; war had never truly ceased on Earth, but there were no large-scale conflicts any more. Universal controllable fertility implants meant that no-one got pregnant any more, not if they didn't want to be. The greening of the Sahara and other wastelands had opened up literally millions of square kilometres of farmland; scientifically managed agricultural procedures yielded more food per square metre than ever before. The world's population had dropped below crisis levels ten years previously; it had come close, but the predicted Malthusian collapse had never happened.

    In short, with the population numbers under control and the food situation steadily improving, national governments were able to focus on other problems and bring them to heel. The number of reasons to go to war with one's neighbour were becoming fewer and fewer by the day.

    Laura struggled to her feet; the older man offered his arm, and she leaned on him gratefully. “What do you mean?” she asked the younger man. “If they're not ours or anyone else's, whose are they?”

    He grimaced. “We have a phrase in the trade; exotic technology. It means, stuff that can do things that nothing else can do. Those planes were exotic technology. They didn't originate on Earth. They came here from somewhere else.” He shaded his eyes and looked at the sky. “I think we're under attack by outside forces, ones that muster appreciably better tech than we can.”

    “If you're right, and I think you are,” observed the older man levelly, “then that's the naval base over there.” His voice was grim as he stared at the slowly-climbing pillar of smoke. “Surgical strike. Textbook military tactics.” He, too, looked at the sky.

    Laura Harcourt felt a shiver down her back as she followed their gaze. There was nothing to see; the dark, hungry shapes had vanished utterly into the wide blue sky.

    Their absence did not comfort her.

    They would be back.


    To be continued ...
     
    Last edited: Mar 21, 2015
    Cattongue, Evilhippy, udkudk and 32 others like this.
  3. macdjord

    macdjord Well worn.

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    Interesting. One technical issue: There is no way a bunch of random Earth viruses and spam could attack an alien computer system. Virii can't even jump OSes unless specifically programmed to.
     
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  4. Navrin

    Navrin Experienced.

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    Earth: "Cute. My counterattack begins now."
     
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  5. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    1) Unless they were, yes.
    2) Also, unless the alien computers were specifically designed to interface with the local computers, and accept any and all information, and process it fully.

    Whoops.
     
  6. macdjord

    macdjord Well worn.

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    That would let them run the virii, yes. That's not going to give them the same vulnerabilities as the host systems. Unless, of course, they are outright virtualizing entire human-OS machines - in which case, the virii a) would have no better luck against them then against the real machines they are simulating, and b) even if the virii won, they could only trash the VMs, not the native code that runs the engines and stuff.
     
  7. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Let's just say, with the advancements in tech, there's been advancements in virii, and in antivirus programming.

    It's science fiction. Roll with it.
     
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  8. DeAnno

    DeAnno Power over Versatility

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    With all this AI tech running around, I wouldn't be surprised if the viruses were smartware too.
     
  9. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Basically, yeah.
     
  10. DieKatzchen

    DieKatzchen Know what you're doing yet?

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    I just had a strange experience. I read this story, scrolled up to Watch it, and suddenly it was Junior Hero. I thought I had closed the tab, but it wasn't in my recent tabs either. I'm almost glad this forum is so slow because I was able to find it again. I was starting to think I had hallucinated it.

    Anyway I like it. Looking forward to more.
     
  11. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    So Junior Hero invaded the alien invasion story.

    Only on QQ. (note: also in my sig). :D
     
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  12. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Introduction has been expanded a bit.
     
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  13. Beyogi

    Beyogi I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Well, this is interesting. An alien invasion of Earth. And apparently despite everything they still managed to get in a surprise strike. But why are they attacking anyway? A civilisation capable of interstellar travel really shouldn't go invading other species homeworlds. At least not if there is a remote chance that they can fight back.
     
  14. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    More will be explained, later.
     
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  15. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Very interesting. I am intrigued by the social aspects, the society presented, and the humor present in the introduction. Nicely done!
     
  16. Tisaku

    Tisaku Experienced.

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    If it were anyone else I'd want at least five chapters, but you're Ack, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and watch this.
     
  17. Azrael Winter

    Azrael Winter Know what you're doing yet?

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    Good start. When I first starting reading this I assumed it was a worm fic with a far more advanced earth bet, but that was mainly just from seeing you write worm so much hahaha
     
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