Chapter 8

Any resemblance between the content of this story or any of the characters depicted herein and real persons or events is highly unlikely and purely coincidental.

Kayla stood a step back. Her first two hook rugs hung side by side. The colors seemed to sparkle. The yarn Kayla used had pieces of silk embedded within it. The industrial area AI, Vulcan, projected that the probability was high for a positive reception of the artwork. A time-lapse video of her creating the rugs would be part of the package, adding to the overall value.

What these aliens found value in seemed perplexing. The mother of her daughter's new friend shipped macramé off planet. The pictures she used to make these rugs came from an older brother's room of the same family. A hand touched Kayla softly to get her attention.

"You do belong here working." Jodie Nez, her boss at the Rug Loom, kept reassuring daily. "I'm glad you decided to not make them mirror images." Jodie leaned in to look at the picture inspiration. "The one on the left does have extra color bits."

"What," Kayla cocked her head. "They look the same to me."

Jodie pointed at several places on the paper. "This bit of gold here, and here."

"Excuse me Jodie." Vulcan interrupted. Kayla jumped a tiny bit. The AIs here were very vocal. "Could you circle those with a pen?" Over the next two minutes, a frantic search began. Vulcan had to replicate a felt tip highlighter.

Even with Jodie marking the differences, Kayla struggled to see them. It took a moment but the variations started to become visible. "How do you see these?" Kayla pointed at the marks.

"Centuries of practice. Navajo women have been employed to verify that printed circuits passed quality control," she continued. Rarely did people know this particle of trivia. "Over generations, the rugs we women have taught our daughters to weave helped us develop an eye for patterns." She stood back, glanced up and down, and then made two more quick marks.

"Well," Kayla said raising an eyebrow; everyone here was related to Jodie by blood, except her. "My first day here, you had your sister say." She held her right hand in a stereotypical Hollywood Native American greeting. "Me'um welcome white squaw, who make'um rug."

"That was priceless." Jodie took a snorting breath. Both women shared a giggle. "The hook rugs are gorgeous."

"I'm flattered," Kayla looked at one of the looms. "I would like to learn to weave one day."

"It will take about six weeks to see if the rugs sold." They exchanged a hug. "We'll start training you next week."

"Please place those pictures at the front desk." Vulcan interjected. "Randy Jenkins will be coming to take the pictures for comparisons."

For the third time, Hobson restated, "I am unable to provide an answer."

"OK, let's try another tactic." Randy needed to stay calm. He was embarrassed by the fact he could not see the difference in the patterns without having them first pointed out. "Is this a prohibition on information about AIs for humans and/or something else?"

The resulting pause put more questions into play. "I can not directly answer that question." Hobson seemed to be apologetic.

Randy needed to think. Trying to outsmart an AI was pointless. Even back if Florida, when he added all of his classmates as dependents to Mr. Jenkins, Randy didn't put one over on the AI. Randy had just made the AI aware of the facts. "Who could answer that question?"

"Colinda or the AIs at Voliereat," Hobson's answer confounded him.

"Why?"

"Colinda was created one hundred Earth years before the Sa'arm threat was initially identified. The restrictions she has may be different from ones I am subject to. I have limitations imposed via the house's hardware." Hobson seemed to take a breath. "The AIs of the home world keep their own counsel."

Randy took time to digest what Hobson had shared. He held up the paper he retrieved from the Rug Loom. "Can you make three copies of this picture?"

"Exact copies of the picture can be created. They will be waiting for you in the downstairs replicator."

Randy changed to his overalls. If he left right away, he would have time to speak to Colinda at the government building, and then make it to his night duties at the newly started cattle ranch. Halfway to the ground floor his plans changed. He could smell Joyce's sweet yellow cornbread. His stomach growled in protest. He joined the end of the buffet line. He would speak to Colinda on the way home.

Fifteen minutes in a shower to relax, and then Anton had to suffer three hours of individualized debriefing. The private did not feel like a hero. No one but him had survived. The last hour the entire Team Blanc faced a cohesive systematic deconstruction of the exercise.

Anton Zidane felt more like a failure, his great action in the exercise was a retreat. He ran. That was his great contribution to the effort. Getting out of the simulation would have meant that his squad was dead. Questions about his worth to the squad flooded his mind. He remained in the briefing room after the others left.

"Private Zidane," Rejo, the base AI, spoke with its subtle Cuban accent. "Do you understand the reasons behind these exercises?"

"I believe the exercises are showing me my real worth as a soldier." He almost spat the words. "I left them to die."

"This simulation pitted five hundred troopers against twelve marines." External shots of the Swarm tunnel system that carried the code name Mercury Incident were displayed on the wall. "We have very little data on how the troopers behave in tunnels or during ship boarding." The images changed to the last a few images from a castle class corvette as Sa'arm troopers overran it. "Your efforts here will increase survivability of our forces."

"I abandoned my comrades." The fifteen-year-old came to the foreground, residing in a two-meter mass of muscle. "I was glad when Sergeant Capoue ordered me to run."

"Private, what would have been the probable result if Sergeant Capoue had ordered you to stay and engage the Sa'arm?"

The answer hinted at the commitment Private Zidane held for his team. "I would have killed them all."

"On the planet Thule it was discovered that caltrops could impede swarm troopers." Zidane cocked his head. Rejo displayed the four-pointed object as a hologram. "Your squad was issued white phosphorous grenades for the simulation. The projected effect is worth further study. In the confined space, the squad's use of phosphorous grenades shows potential."

"I still ran."

"Who are the fastest members of the team?"

"Alou Petit and I," Anton saw that the blips that showed their movement during that last sprint down the corridor. His and Pettit's dots separated themselves from the other team members. The gap always increased.

"You ran when you were ordered to do so. Sergeant Capoue had additional orders to survey and return with internal data of the tunnel system. That data was stored in your armor.

"Then he, the sergeant ... he sent us ahead to fulfill the mission."

"Yes."

"Everything was like a big video game." Anton Zidane stood. "I never understood the potential of finality. When my team's comms ended ... I need to do even better, don't I?"