Chapter 10

Month 76—April on Anouilh

“OKAY, ORLANDO. We can accept a trickle of vacationers starting in September.” We’d hammered out a pretty profitable way of using the Cuban travel department as our booking agent for the resort. Not bad. In turn, we were going to remodel the old resort on Papillon for tourists who didn’t want the porn goddess experience.

We’d spent a couple of hours with the trade negotiators from both the Confederacy and Cuba, watching Dakota direct camera angles and action. A dozen girls started in the kind of costumes you’d expect in a sexploitation jungle war movie where the girls were guerilla fighters. They wore torn camo short-shorts with their cheeks hanging out and bandana tops. Their camo makeup looked more like the black streaks under a quarterback’s eyes than any serious attempt at camouflage. And as the scenes progressed, the clothing was lost in bits and pieces until the girls were fighting naked.

“And they will have a part in these action scenes with the girls?” the negotiator asked anxiously. He was obviously thinking of becoming one of the first vacationers to have an action role adventure on the island.

“He will. Just remember, not every girl on the island is interested in having a boy/girl sex scene. There will be limited options,” Dakota said.

“Ah. Only the ugly girls get laid,” Iglesias nodded knowingly.

“There are no ugly girls on the island,” Miss Molly snapped, putting the little man down firmly. She’d chosen to wear a leather dominatrix outfit today that was mostly three triangles connected with leather straps and a pair of thigh-high boots. Iglesias was still displaying a hard lump in his pants an hour after the filming ended. The Cubans left, escorted back to the confused troops on the other side of the causeway.

“Now,” I turned to the Confederacy negotiators. “What is it you want from our little island?” Major Thom looked uncomfortable but buckled in for the negotiation.

“We want the right to produce any weapon you invent for the game. We have Marines who like playing the game and using the virtual weapons. As they become more proficient, they’re making models of them and having contests to prove their prowess. A few of your designs are unique and could be powered by existing methods. Unless you’ve got methods of powering them in the design.”

“That’s not a bad ask. We don’t have much in the way of a manufacturing ability here on the islands. We’ve had to farm out the manufacturing of our toys, the game controllers, and the masturbators. What I’d like are working weapons based on our designs. In exchange for your right to produce them and distribute them for the Confederacy, we’d receive shipments of working weapons with the right to distribute them here on Earth. I know out there you have needs to be met right now. Here on Earth we still have a few years before your lines fall. We want to have players on Earth who find themselves ready to do actual battle when the dickheads get here,” I said.

“It really is a training game, then,” Major Thom said. “That was our guess, just seeing how well the Marines are taking to it. But your Earth warriors won’t have the muscle and reflex upgrades of Marines.”

“Can’t have everything, Major. That’s one of the reasons we use girls as the avatars in the videos. If they can make players believe a girl can fight like this, it will give them confidence that they can do it, too,” Tatts said. She’d been quiet through most of the negotiations, but this was where she’d agreed to reveal herself to the visitors. “Ubie, how many of the prototypes do you manage and target?”

“One hundred seventeen,” a voice said from just behind Major Thom. The Major turned quickly only to hear the voice from a different direction.

“So, you do have an AI,” Thom whispered. “When we got the message sent from Anouilh, there was speculation that it was faked and the AIs wouldn’t corroborate any speculation of an AI here. Centurion Oswald said there was. Both the Arabs and the Cosca built ships based on ancient data but they didn’t have AIs. You didn’t build this one yourself.”

“He was budded and placed in our care. He’s a quick learner but we’re taking our time to make sure we’re all shooting at the same target,” Tatts said.

“And how are you qualified to raise a budded AI? In the Confederacy, AIs are programmed and trained by other AIs,” Andrea said.

“I am Dr. Rachel Gunn. You may not have access to all my records. Most, I assume, are still classified since I still can’t talk about them. I’m a computer psychologist.” Both Andrea and the Major got a faraway look in their eyes, something I’d learned to recognize from my previous encounters with the Confederacy.

“You’re right,” Thom said. “Most of the information is classified way above my need to know. We have been informed, however, that you are eminently qualified and competent in dealing with artificial intelligence. I can tell, however, that you must have spent time in a med tube for a sixty-year-old woman to look like you look.”

“It was part payment for services rendered,” Tatts said.

“I’m satisfied,” Andrea said. “Now we’d like to know what you are doing in the asteroid belt and how the Confederacy could benefit from it. We’ve been sending out mining operations to the belt on a regular basis, but there are inefficiencies, shall we say. I have a shortlist of elements that are needed for weapons and ship building that are rare in the universe. If Major is providing functional weapons for your Earth force, we’d like you to provide raw materials to power them.”

“Major, you held out on us. That’s your name, not your rank.”

“Both,” the man replied. “No one wants to talk to a Major Major Thom, so I don’t repeat it. My mother was a big David Bowie fan.”

“Then to answer the question bluntly, we don’t want money. What good is that going to do here? Oh, there is still a majority of Earth inhabitants who believe accumulating wealth will somehow help them stave off the aliens—if they even believe in them. But we need something very different from the Confederacy.”

“So, you want out of here after all,” Andrea said. Her disgust was apparent.

“Quite the opposite,” I said. “We want you to ignore us. Completely. Don’t look around our operation in the asteroid belt. I’ll tell you we have four miners out there and they are supplying materials for our replicator there. Don’t give any more thought to our game than playing it and manufacturing the weapons. Don’t investigate our AI. He’s disconnected from the AI network. Don’t attempt any more pickups on our island, no matter who comes to visit. On the other hand, we have no qualms about Confederacy operations on Papillon. In fact, we’re renovating the resort over there so there will be an attractive haven for prospective pickups. You might find it useful.”

“Ignore you. You aren’t just mining the belt, you’re manufacturing something. Something we might not want you to do,” Andrea said. “I need one assurance, though. I need to know that nothing you have created, will create, or use will be employed against the Confederacy.”

“As long as there is a peaceful relationship between Earth and the Confederacy, none of our weapons will be used against them. If, however, we discover ourselves being invaded or attacked by the Confederacy, we will retaliate. That includes invasion by human members of the Confederacy. As long as we’re fighting a common enemy, we’re good. Once that enemy is gone, there will be an arms’ length relationship between us and you.”

“You can’t speak for Earth,” Major said.

“Right! I’m speaking for the Pussy Pirates. And you should understand that nothing we plan or implement will be used to take us out of the system. Unlike the Confederacy, we are here to stay.”

Month 79—July in LA