c. 2026 Rod Ice
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(5-26)
Kelly Strafe seethed with irritation, when beholding the Seagull bots that surrounded their Digger shuttle. She hissed and stammered, and stomped her feet. But for Judson Baines, this unexpected sight evoked more curiosity than alarm. He wondered openly how the surveyor machines were designed and controlled from so great a distance.
“Serge, you can tell us a lot about how these things operate, I would guess. They seem to be acting independently, but at the same time, show evidence of remote guidance. It is almost as if they have default settings, some kind of standard algorithm maybe, which operates in relation to local conditions. But then they receive updates from a central controller...”
Tarka nodded in response, and paused to think for a moment.
“You are perceptive, which must be a prerequisite for teaching at a respected university. The Seagull program was originally developed as a way to explore uninhabited regions outside of our own republic. We didn’t have the communications technology to build a fly-by-wire system, at least in the beginning. So, they were literally searching on their own, before reporting back to us with a delay in effect. Each unit can interact with the others, while on a mission, which enhances their operation. Data is then shared with the facility at Toqua Platte, on our Pacific coast. It takes time to cross the continent, and process all that information. Eventually, we incorporated a variable element in the programming, for redirection as needed. It’s a slow link-up, but works well enough to make the devices useful.”
Strafe flipped her long ponytail from side to side, and spat on the ground.
“If we had any weapons, I’d blow those mechanized birds to bits!”
The Calimex engineer was slightly amused by her oath, but also concerned.
“You don’t have any offensive capabilities? That has to be a handicap when roaming around in an alien territory!”
Baines shrugged off this worrisome comment. Then, he offered an explanation of their core philosophy on Mars.
“See, it’s a matter of evolutionary thinking. Our progenitors knew that war and conflict had ruined the old world. It made Planet Earth a desolate and unfriendly piece of rock, which they had to escape. In addition, to survive in the colonies, we had to breed out those qualities that made it all happen. Humanity had to better itself, in order to endure. Therefore, none of the Morningstar vessels carry lethal implements. It would be against our creed as a civilization to fight with other races, on neighboring bodies in the solar system. We are seekers of knowledge, and traders in goods and services. It is how we have lived for so long in sealed environments on the red soil of our homeworld...”
Tarka was somewhat embarrassed to be puzzled by this resistance to do battle. But inspired by the nobility of it, in principle, as a method of living in harmony and peace.
“Those are brave words, indeed. Our governors speak with such goals in mind, when debating over the rule of law in our coastal republic. But I suspect it never quite works so easily, when dealing with outsiders and foreign agents. We haven’t fought a war in generations, basically because the independent enclaves are so distant from each other. Though I am certain our Prime Keeper would be willing to use force to impose his desire to unite the districts, if necessary. He has a heavy hand with our own people...”
The former Space Force lieutenant clenched her fists, and reddened while listening.
“So what can we do, just stand here and watch those surveyor bots steal our ship? That doesn’t work for me, I think we need to get busy, do something!”
The professional scholar did not disagree, yet had his own strategy in mind to defeat the surveillance bots, and preserve their safety.
“What kind of link is there between your western facility, and these airborne machines? Just a basic form of radio transmission?”
The Frigoris-Farragut commander gestured with affirmation. He had already begun to form a plan of sorts, subconsciously.
“Yes, that’s it in simple terms. The connection depends on geography and weather, being over such an extended distance. Cyclical storms sever the link sometimes. Physical obstacles make reception difficult or even impossible. That is why the Seagull units had to have their own capabilities as independent observers. They can’t be effectively controlled in real time, all day, every day. We don’t have your advanced methods for data processing, either. It works well enough to serve our needs, but is far from perfect!”
Baines lowered his head while pondering. Then, exhaled with a breathy burst of inspiration.
“That’s it then, the solution is one we can implement in two phases. First, jam the hook-up between your technical center and the surveyors, so that no data can be exchanged. After that, we scramble their onboard paradigm by introducing a computing error into their archives. A virtual virus you might say, that will stall their regular operation and cause chaos to abound between members of the flock. I’m guessing they will regress into standby mode at that point...”
Tarka smiled at this direct and non-violent solution. His role in their escapade of sabotage was now obvious, and one that might bring him a restored sense of being liberated from Lotharian Gardino.
“I have the functional equivalent of their transmitter array on my lander. Give me enough time to retrieve it from the hilltop where we crashed, along with some power cells from the cargo store, and I can set up what we need. The streaming platform will accomplish what you have described, in a matter of minutes. Once the wireless connections are broken, and protocols are erased, our standoff will be ended. The team at Toqua Platte will be confounded by their failure. As will the governors on our ruling council.”
Kelly Strafe was still uncharacteristically aggressive, after her cranial injury and restoration. She lusted for a more combative solution.
“I’d rather zap them with a laser gun, or maybe T. C. Lincoln’s old Ithaca Model 37! But have it your way, boys, we can finally settle this dispute, and flip a middle finger to those bastards on the west coast! I guess that’ll be good enough for me!”
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