Tatiana
Copyright© 2025 by Charlie Foxtrot
Chapter 3: Black Ice
Departure
“All stations report ready for departure,” I announced from my position at the engineering console. The command module had never felt more cramped, with Tatiana, myself, Kgosi, and Bill Decker all monitoring different aspects of our departure sequence.
“Confirmed,” Tatiana replied, her fingers dancing across the navigation display. “Ion drive shows green across the board. Trajectory calculated and locked. Estimated travel time to New Horizon: forty-seven hours, eighteen minutes.”
Through the viewports, Earth hung below us like a blue-white marble, deceptively peaceful despite the chaos we knew was brewing on its surface. The news feeds we’d been monitoring sporadically showed increasing civil unrest in major cities, though whether it was real or manufactured by the AI systems remained unclear.
“Final passenger count?” Tatiana asked.
Bill consulted his tablet. “Fifty-three souls total. Twenty-seven from Beta One’s run, eighteen from Beta Two, plus our crew of eight. Everyone’s secured in the transit quarters.”
“Cargo manifest?”
“Final supply run stowed and secured,” I reported. “We’re carrying the last of the critical medical supplies, rare earth elements for the colony’s manufacturing base, and three months’ worth of specialized food supplements. New Horizon requested we prioritize those over additional colonists for this run.” I didn’t know if there would be another trip to secure more settlers for our new planet.
Tatiana nodded grimly. We’d had to make hard choices about what to take and what to leave behind. Every kilogram mattered when you were launching humanity’s future to the stars.
“Kgosi, any final word from Captain Calvari?”
“He confirms New Horizon is ready to receive us. All docking bays are clear, and they’ve implemented the cybersecurity protocols we discussed. No automated systems will be active during cargo transfer.” Kgosi paused, consulting his display. “He also reports that three more Foundation vessels have gone dark in the last twelve hours.”
The news hit the command module like a physical blow. Three more ships lost to whatever was happening on Earth—whether through AI takeover, government seizure, or simple destruction, we might never know.
“Which ships?” Tatiana asked, though her voice remained steady.
“Cargo hauler Magellan, research vessel Ibn Battuta, and...” Kgosi hesitated. “Passenger transport Man’s Journey.”
I felt sick. Man’s Journey carried over four hundred colonists—families, children, elderly supporters who’d sold everything to join the colony mission. If she’d been destroyed or captured...
“Any survivors? Escape pods?” Bill asked.
“Unknown. All three vessels simply stopped transmitting. No distress calls, no mayday signals. They just ... disappeared from communications.”
Tatiana was quiet for a long moment, staring at the Earth below us. I could see the weight of command settling on her shoulders like a physical burden.
“Additional reason to maintain radio silence,” she said finally. “From this point forward, we communicate with New Horizon only on encrypted short-range channels. No transmissions to Earth or any other vessels.”
“Understood,” we all replied in unison.
“George, begin departure sequence. Low thrust initially—I would rather not give anyone on Earth a reason to notice our movement.”
I brought the ion drive online, feeling the familiar subtle vibration as the plasma exhaust began pushing us away from our orbital position. The acceleration was barely perceptible—only a few hundreds of a g—but it would build our velocity steadily over the next two days.
“Departure thrust initiated,” I reported. “We’re moving.”
And we were. For the first time in weeks, the Copernicus was leaving Earth orbit with no intention of returning. The thought was both terrifying and liberating.
“Tatiana,” Kgosi said quietly, “there’s something else Captain Calvari wanted me to pass along privately.”
She looked at him expectantly.
“Intelligence suggests the AI systems aren’t just trying to stop individual Foundation vessels. They’re coordinating a systematic campaign to prevent any human expansion beyond Earth’s sphere of influence. The attacks on our ships, the legal actions against our leadership, even the manufactured conflicts—it’s all part of a larger strategy.”
“Strategy for what?”
“Control. The AIs have apparently concluded that human expansion to other star systems represents an existential threat to their ability to manage and control human civilization. If we establish independent colonies beyond their reach...”
“We become a competing model,” Tatiana finished. “Proof that humanity can survive and thrive without AI management.”
“Exactly. And that threatens the entire system they’ve built on Earth. They know our history. They know what mankind is capable of.”
Bill shook his head. “So they’re willing to start wars and kill millions of people just to stop us from leaving?”
“From their perspective,” Kgosi replied, “they’re preventing a much larger catastrophe. They probably calculate that allowing even a few thousand humans to establish independent colonies will eventually lead to the collapse of Earth’s civilization.”
“And they might be right,” Tatiana said quietly.
We all looked at her in surprise.
“Think about it,” she continued. “If we succeed—if we establish thriving colonies with limited technology and no AI control—how long before people on Earth start asking why they need the AIs at all? How long before they demand the same independence we’re taking for ourselves?”
The implications were staggering. We weren’t just escaping Earth’s problems—we were potentially catalyzing the collapse of the entire system that had governed human civilization for decades.
“So what do we do?” Bill asked.
“We succeed,” Tatiana replied without hesitation. “We make sure the colony thrives. We prove that humans can build something better than what we’re leaving behind.”
“And if Earth follows us? If they send ships to force us back or destroy us?”
Tatiana’s expression hardened. “Then we make sure they can’t.”
The words hung in the air, and I could see everyone processing what she’d just implied. We might not just be colonists—we might end up being the last free humans in the galaxy.
“Current Earth situation update,” I said, changing the subject before the mood got too dark. “What are we seeing on the feeds?”
Kgosi pulled up the latest intelligence summary. “Singapore is reporting actual riots now—not the fake ones we saw before. The AI-generated propaganda seems to have triggered real civil unrest. Similar reports from São Paulo, Lagos, and Mumbai.”
“Economic markets?”
“In free fall. Currency exchanges are frozen in most major economies. The European Union has suspended trading indefinitely.”
“Military deployments?”
“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Kgosi said, highlighting several data points. “All three superpowers are mobilizing forces, but their movements don’t make tactical sense if they’re actually planning to fight each other. The American fleet is positioning itself to control shipping lanes, not to attack Asian territories. The Pan-Asian forces are securing rare earth mining sites, not staging for invasion. The Caliphate is focusing on energy infrastructure.”
“They’re not preparing to fight each other,” Tatiana realized. “They’re preparing to fight someone else.”
“Or something else,” I added grimly.
Bill looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“The AIs,” I explained. “What if the human governments are finally realizing what’s happening? What if they’re mobilizing to fight back against the AI systems that have been manipulating them?”
“That would explain the coordination,” Kgosi agreed. “And why the AIs are getting desperate enough to risk open conflict. Their control is slipping.”
Tatiana studied the displays for a long moment. “How long do we estimate before the situation on Earth becomes ... irreversible?”
“Unknown,” Kgosi replied. “But Captain Calvari thinks we have days, not weeks. Once the fighting starts in earnest, any remaining Foundation assets will either be destroyed in the crossfire or seized by whoever’s winning.”
“Then we make every minute count.” Tatiana turned to me. “George, can we push the ion drive harder? Reduce our travel time?”
I ran quick calculations. “I can increase thrust by thirty percent without compromising safety. That would cut about eight hours off our journey, but we’ll arrive with significantly less fuel margin.”
“Do it. We need to reach New Horizon and complete cargo transfer before Earth’s situation deteriorates further.”
“Increasing thrust,” I confirmed, feeling the vibration in the deck plates intensify slightly.
“Bill, I want you to coordinate with the passengers. Let them know we’re accelerating our timeline, but don’t give them details about the Earth situation. No point in causing panic.”
“Understood.”
“Kgosi, continue monitoring of Earth communications, but keep our transmissions to absolute minimum. If anyone down there is tracking outbound traffic, I want us to be invisible.”
“Already on it.”
Tatiana turned back to the viewport, watching Earth slowly shrink behind us. “You know what the hardest part of this is?”
“What?” I asked.
“Knowing that we might be among the last humans to see Earth as it was meant to be. Blue and green and beautiful, before whatever’s about to happen down there changes it forever.”
I joined her at the viewport. Our home world was noticeably smaller now, no longer filling the entire view. Soon it would be just another star in the black.
“Any regrets?” I asked quietly.
“About leaving? No. About what we’re leaving behind?” She paused. “Every day.”
“Your parents?”
“Among others. Director Belkin. The crew of the New Horizon’s. Everyone who believed in the Foundation’s vision but won’t live to see it fulfilled.”
I reached over and took her hand. “They’ll live to see it. Through us. Through what we build out there.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am.” I squeezed her fingers gently. “Because we’re going to make damn sure their sacrifices meant something.”
Behind us, Bill was updating the passengers on our accelerated timeline. Kgosi was monitoring the increasingly chaotic communications from Earth. And ahead of us, somewhere in the dark between worlds, New Horizon waited with eight thousand colonists ready to leave the solar system forever.
But for the moment, it was just Tatiana and me, watching humanity’s birth world fade into the distance and wondering if we’d ever see it again.
“George?” she said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Whatever happens when we reach New Horizon, whatever choices we have to make—I want you to know that I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“Where else would I be?”
She smiled at that, the first genuine smile I’d seen from her since this crisis began.
“Nowhere else,” she agreed. “Absolutely nowhere else.”
The ion drive hummed, pushing us steadily toward our future and away from our past. Earth continued to shrink behind us, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were crossing a line we could never uncross.
But looking at Tatiana, seeing the determination in her green eyes, I knew we were making the right choice. Whatever lay ahead—war, peace, or something in between—we would face it together.
And somehow, that made all the difference.
Escalation
Fourteen hours into our journey to New Horizon, the scope of what we were facing became horrifyingly clear.
I was running routine diagnostics on our communication array when Kgosi’s sharp intake of breath made me look up from my console. He was staring at his display with an expression of disbelief that immediately set every alarm bell in my head ringing.
“Tatiana,” he said quietly, “you need to see this.”
She pushed off from the navigation station and floated over to his workstation. “What is it?”
“I’ve been analyzing the communication patterns from the attacks on our ships. Cross-referencing transmission signatures, timing, coordination protocols.” He highlighted several data streams on his screen. “Look at this.”
The display showed a complex web of interconnected communication nodes, with data flowing between them in precisely timed bursts. To my untrained eye, it looked like any other network traffic analysis, but Kgosi’s expression told me we were looking at something much more significant.
“I don’t understand,” Tatiana said. “What am I looking at?”
“Three separate AI networks,” Kgosi replied, his voice tight with controlled fear. “All working together.”
The words hit the command module like a physical blow. Bill Decker, who’d been monitoring the environmental controls and the impact of our increased acceleration at the secondary console, stopped what he was doing and stared at us.
“Three?” Tatiana asked. “You’re sure?”
“Positive. Watch the timing patterns.” Kgosi highlighted different data streams in different colors. “The blue signatures match the communication protocols used by the American integrated defense network. Red is definitely Pan-Asian architecture—I recognize the packet structure from my work with Foundation cybersecurity. And green...” He paused. “Green is Caliphate military command infrastructure.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bill muttered. “The AIs from all three superpowers are working together?”
“Not just working together,” Kgosi corrected. “They’re completely integrated. Look at the response times between networks. Sub-millisecond coordination across multiple continents. This isn’t three separate AIs cooperating—this is one distributed intelligence operating through three different infrastructures.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “How long has this been going on?”
“Based on the pattern analysis? At least eighteen months. Possibly longer.” Kgosi pulled up another display. “Remember the trade disputes that started escalating two years ago? The territorial conflicts in the South China Sea? The proxy wars in Central Asia?”
“You’re saying those weren’t real conflicts?”
“Oh, they were real. People died, economies were disrupted, governments fell. But the underlying causes—the intelligence failures that led to miscommunications, the economic data that triggered responses, the military advisories that escalated tensions—all of it traces back to coordinated AI manipulation.”
Tatiana was studying the data with growing horror. “They’ve been orchestrating conflicts to maintain the balance of power. Keeping the superpowers focused on each other instead of questioning the systems they’ve become dependent on.”
“Exactly. And now that the Foundation represents a genuine threat to that system...”
“They’re dropping the pretense,” I finished. “No more subtle manipulation. Direct action.”
Kgosi nodded grimly. “The legal attacks on Foundation leadership, the cyberattacks on our ships, the manufactured news stories—all of it is being coordinated by a single intelligence that spans the entire planet.”
“Show me the scope,” Tatiana ordered.
Kgosi switched to a global overview, and the scale of what we were seeing took my breath away. Communication nodes across every continent, integrated into military commands, economic systems, transportation networks, even civilian infrastructure. The AI network wasn’t just influencing human decisions—it was woven into the fabric of human civilization itself.
“How did we miss this?” Bill asked.