A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [158]
“I am developing speculations concerning the new Soldier compies,” OX said. “However, I have insufficient data to verify my conclusions. Therefore, I am continuing to assess potential scenarios.”
Peter gave the small compy a wry smile. “In other words, you have a hunch, but you haven’t convinced yourself to lay it on the line.”
“That is…an adequate translation.” The compy paused as if calculating. “I have analyzed the design modifications we derived from our study of Jorax and implemented in the manufacturing process of the new-model compies. I find many of the details to be…ambiguous at best.”
“I don’t understand it, either,” Peter said, “but the compies seem to be functioning properly. They’ve passed all tests so far.”
“While they may have passed all tests the Hansa chose to perform, King Peter, I have determined that none of the cybernetic engineers can fully explain the new modules they have installed in the Soldier compies. They have not deconstructed the programming from first principles, but are simply copying existing Klikiss technology with direct assistance from the Klikiss robots. Such ignorance leaves much room for potential problems.”
Peter frowned with grave concern. “But new Soldier compies have already been loaded aboard the main fleet for Osquivel—if you’ve got proof that we don’t understand the modifications we made, then we’d better act quickly. The battlegroup is already on its way.”
“I have no proof of any specific failings, King Peter—only questions,” OX said. “We do not know the full capabilities of these Soldier compies. Klikiss programming is an enigma to me. As a Teacher, I always urged you to question what you do not understand. I should follow my own instructions.”
Peter looked at the Teacher robot. “Believe me, OX, you’re not the only one who questions these things.”
“It is not my place to question industrial processes or decisions made by Chairman Wenceslas.”
Peter frowned. “It is your role to give me fair and straightforward advice. I’m afraid the Chairman is not capable of objectively weighing the potential consequences of adopting technology that we don’t understand, but I’ll…talk to him about it.”
The day before Basil Wenceslas departed for the EDF base on Mars to monitor the Osquivel offensive, Peter hurried to a strategy meeting in Hansa HQ. It was only a small discussion with important military and economic advisers, but Peter was bothered that Basil hadn’t told him about it. He was tired of being treated as irrelevant.
He took a deep breath and entered the room, chin high, interrupting the conversations. “You may begin the meeting now, gentlemen. I apologize if I kept you waiting. I presume you discussed nothing of importance until I could be present?”
He looked directly at the Chairman, and an irritated expression crossed Basil’s face. No one answered him, but the advisers waited until the King took an empty seat, mentally realigning the table so that he sat at its head.
The Chairman said, “General Lanyan’s offensive fleet will arrive at the target system early tomorrow. According to plan, the EDF will spend a day preparing for the operation, and I will monitor the situation from Mars. Green priest contacts will relay real-time reports from Osquivel—no matter what happens there.”
Basil projected a diagram that outlined the complements of the enormous battlegroup on its way to Osquivel, the number of Remoras and Mantas crewed by Soldier compies, and the general outline for the attack, should Robb Brindle’s attempts at communication fail.
Peter absorbed all the details. His predecessor had never paid attention to anything but his ceremonial role, letting the Hansa determine all political matters, while he simply acted as a mouthpiece. Peter, though, had always taken a careful interest. If he had to be spokesman for the Hansa’s decisions and apologize for the mistakes and claim credit for the triumphs, then he deserved some input into the process.
Remembering what OX had said to him about the Klikiss technology, Peter now raised his doubts. “Gentlemen,