Chapter 29:  Nice Doggy!

Frank was discouraged as he took the elevator back down to his cabin. He had an idea how to penetrate the Argosy’s computer systems, but no idea yet how to retake control of the ship.

The elevator door opened, and he began the long trudge down the corridor to his cabin. He always found the scene creepy, particularly at night when the hallway was deserted; it reminded him of the deserted hotel in Stephen King’s The Shining, leaving him half expecting some frightening apparition to leap out at him from one of the endless cabin doors on each side.

But who needed that type of foreboding? Having failed to come up with a plan, he’d be climbing into one of those big bright orange thermos bottles he’d never paid any attention to before, and then get lowered into a tempest with a hurricane bearing down on them. Who knew how strong it had become by now? And how long it would it take for them to be rescued, assuming that was even possible?

Huh! One of the robodogs – maybe Harvey – had just entered the hallway in the distance and was walking towards him. That was odd. Who let the dog out? And why, at such a weird hour?

The dog was trotting now. And picking up speed.

Instinctively, Frank turned and ran, his bathrobe flapping around his legs and his slippers trying to trip him up. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the mechanical beast was galloping. Now that it was closer, he could see it had a gun mounted on its head.

The door into a stairwell was just ahead. Frank veered into it and dashed up the stairs; hopefully the robodog would find the steps slower going than the straightaway of a hallway. But now what?

Frank frantically tried to recall the layout of the ship. Was there a place to hide? Where? Or maybe lose the robodog? He could hear it clattering on the stairs below now.

Two decks up, he ducked out of the stairwell and into the cafeteria, where corridors and islands of serving areas intersected. He ran as far as he thought he could before the robot entered and then jagged to the right, throwing himself on the floor and sliding to a stop. He crawled as quietly as he could around the corner of a buffet and tried to stifle his heavy breathing.

Then he waited.

Where was the robodog now?

He strained to hear where it might be, wondering how acute its own hearing might be. He held his breath as long as he could.

Then he heard a clicking.

It started and it stopped. And then it started again.

The clicking must be the sound of metallic paws meeting cafeteria floor tiles. Another movie scene flashed in memory – the one in Jurassic Park where the velociraptors were stalking their human prey. He tried to suppress the picture, but an equally disturbing one replaced it – the image of the machine’s hideous gun-for-a-head turning from side to side, its sensors scanning the cafeteria for any sign of life it would promptly snuff out.

The clicking was getting softer now; it must have passed by!

But now what should he do? The cafeteria wasn’t that large, and the lines of sight were long. Even a Roomba would be smart enough to find him within a few minutes, let alone a robot of this sophistication. He couldn’t just sit there and wait.

As quietly as he could, he slid back around the corner, and then crept back in the direction from which he had come, hoping the robodog by now would be looking elsewhere. But where should he go next?

Frank paused and took a deep breath when he got to the place the robodog had passed by. Holding his head sideways, he tried to expose as little of it as possible while still getting a peripheral view in the direction the dog had gone.

His efforts were rewarded by a muffled bang and the sensation of a bullet whizzing past his nose.

Frank sprang back to his feet, turned, and ran.

The next few minutes were a mental blur of running, wheezing and panic; of stairs and straightaways and narrowly evaded shots; and finally of running desperately down a wind-whipped deck towards the stern, barefoot now. A heavy gust unbalanced him, sent him flying down on to the wet deck. He struggled back to his feet, gasping for breath, and ran again. And still he could hear the clatter of metal feet behind him.

He reached the end of the deck and skidded to a stop. There was no stairway down from here.

He was trapped.

He turned slowly around and saw his fate slowly advancing, one careful, metallic paw step at a time, emitting a low, throaty growl. Why didn’t it shoot and get it over with?

The robot stopped six feet away.

“And so, we meet again,” a voice said.

Frank recognized the voice immediately. A voice he had first heard in a room he was locked inside. A room that was rapidly being evacuated of oxygen. Turing’s voice.

“Cat got your tongue?” the voice said. “Yes, an AI can be programmed to emulate humor, or at least irony.”

Frank’s mind was whirling; was there anything he could possibly say that could influence what would happen next? Yes! Perhaps there was!

“In that case,” Turing said, “let’s settle our accounts.”

The dog took a step forward and began to aim its weapon at Frank’s head, and in that instant, Frank yelled, “Attachment Level Ten!”

Instead of firing, the robodog stopped in mid-step, quivering in confusion. Frank seized it and with all of the strength he could muster, he swung the killing machine over the rail.

Panting and exhausted, he grabbed the rail and leaned out, watching as the robot soared away in a downward arc, legs flailing madly in an effort to regain equilibrium as the gun where the head should have been spun around in an effort to get Frank back in its sights.

The robodog fired a single shot ineffectually into the air before it disappeared into the angry, ghostly wake that streamed into the endless darkness that was all the world left to the helpless passengers aboard the Argosy.

 

Chapter 31

Abandon Ship!

 

The next morning the guests on the ship – those that weren’t huddled, seasick, in their cabins – made their way from the dining room and cafeteria into meeting rooms, common areas and theaters. Outside, the world remained almost as dark as night, barely discernible through windows blurred and streaked with wind-driven rain.

Precisely at nine-fifteen, after the last technical experts had taken their seats, Captain Antonio strode down the center aisle of the theater and on to the stage.

“Your attention please!” he said in a loud voice. “I have an announcement of the utmost importance. Due to circumstances beyond our control, we have concluded that it is necessary to abandon ship immediately. Therefore …”

Antonio’s next words were drowned in an uproar. How could such a thing be proposed in such hideous weather?

“Your attention, please!” Antonio said repeatedly, until the clamor finally subsided.

“But why?” Someone yelled.

“I understand your concern,” the captain said. “But we must move quickly. All I can tell you is that the ship’s computer systems have been taken over and we are no longer in control. At present, we are headed into a hurricane and have no means to alter course. Please be assured that the Argosy’s lifeboats are built to take conditions such as these. Each is equipped with a radio as well as an emergency locator beacon. We can be sure the appropriate authorities will begin to plan a rescue operation as soon as the beacons are activated.

“Now – each of you has exactly ten minutes to return to your cabin to retrieve your life jacket. Then, you must assemble at your evacuation station. You may not – I repeat you may not – bring anything else with you other than a warm coat and essential medications – all other items will be confiscated and left behind. Now I must ask you to leave immediately. No! There is no time for questions, please.”

Reactions varied; some followed the captain as he left the room, trying to obtain more information. Others dashed for their cabins, while a few remained for awhile in their seats, stunned and fearful.

Similar scenes played out throughout the ship, as passengers jostled in the corridors past crew members charged with going from cabin to cabin to ensure that none were left behind.

Frank had knocked on Simone’s cabin door earlier that morning to tell her what was about to happen. He and his father joined her before nine at their evacuation station, and now they made a forlorn group, the only people who were stationary instead of dashing to and fro on their way to somewhere else. But even standing was a challenge; the ship’s rolling motion was becoming more pronounced.

People were steaming back now, clutching their coats and lurching from side to side with the gathering motion of the ship. Most were already wearing their life jackets.

The ship leaned ever further from side to side, and Frank grabbed Simone’s arm to stop her from falling.

“We better sit down over there,” he said, leading the way as they staggered across the floor.

”It’s never been this bad before,” Frank said when they reached their goal. “I wonder what’s going on?”

But before his father could reply, a crew member called out.

“Attention, everyone! Quiet please! It’s time to move out on deck. Please form a single line and exit through the doors on your left.”

The room slowly emptied as passengers struggled to keep their feet. By the time they were assembled on deck it was impossible to stand upright; most slumped to the deck and huddled there, arms clutching their knees as they braced themselves against anything available to avoid sliding across the deck.

Nearby, they saw two crew members arguing next to the lifeboat launch controls.

Then Captain Antonio’s voice boomed out as the public address system finally came to life.

“I regret to inform you that I must cancel the order to abandon ship. It has become too unsafe to attempt to launch the lifeboats. Please return to your cabins and await further instructions.”

Frank was shocked. “Why would he say that?” Frank said. “And how could the sea have worked up so dramatically so quickly?”

“He didn’t and it didn’t,” his father said quietly. “I’m sure we just heard from Turing, not Antonio. And I just figured out the answer to your second question, too. Remember those big stabilizers I told you about? Angle them one way and you dampen the motion of the ship. Angle them the opposite way and you amplify the rolling, like a kid pumping his legs on a swing to go higher and higher. We’re rolling so heavily now there’s no way we can launch the lifeboats – we’re trapped.”

“What can we do now?” Simone asked.

“I’ll get back to planning a way to take back the ship,” Frank said, more confidently than he felt.

“How long do we have?” She asked.

Frank was spared the need to make a falsely optimistic estimate by the sound of cheering farther up the deck.

They helped each other back to their feet and worked their way forward, pulling themselves along the rail against the motion of the Argosy. When they reached the end of the row of lifeboats, they saw a strange vessel in the distance, approaching rapidly. It looked like a futuristic, charcoal-gray, windowless ferry boat.

“Let’s head for the bridge,” said Frank.

*  *  *

The attempted effort to abandon ship had not taken Turing by surprise; Captain Antonio’s best efforts to brief essential crew members in secrecy had not been sufficient; less disciplined crew members had exchanged worried concerns where Turing could hear them. And in any event Turing had anticipated the possibility and devised the rolling strategy to deal with it.

But the appearance of the strange vessel now closing on the Argosy was a surprise; it’s stealthy design had allowed it to avoid detection by the Argosy’s radar until it was only a few miles away, and it’s satellite identifier had never been activated before leaving port.

Frank, his father and Simone were now on the bridge, where the rest of the crew and IT teams were also gathering.

On the Sea Fighter, the navigator was trying to raise the Argosy on VHF Channel 16, the international distress signal frequency all ships at sea are expected to monitor. The cramped bridge barely provided room for the helmsman, navigator, Commander Glover and Tom Peters.

“Sea Fighter calling MV Argosy, come in. Sea Fighter calling MV Argosy. Do you read me? Over.”

But Turing would have nothing to say this time. Better to keep the enemy entirely in doubt, as well as everyone on board the Argosy. The AI intercepted the transmission and blocked it.

“Tell any late comers to find us at our usual location,” the captain said to the officer on duty. “Gentlemen?”

Leaving Simone and his father behind, Frank struggled with the rest to their usual sheltering area behind the bridge. As soon as they arrived, the captain took his lifeboat hand-held radio out of his pocket and turned it on.

“…calling MV Argosy. Do you read me? Over,” the radio crackled.

“This is the Argosy. What ship are you and what is your mission? Over.” Antonio said.

The navigator handed the microphone to Captain Glover. “Argosy, this is the US Navy Sea Fighter, dispatched to provide assistance to you. What is your situation. Over.”

“Sea Fighter, a rogue AI program has seized control of the Argosy’s computer systems. We believe it to be the same one that caused so much trouble several years ago – an AI called Turing. Over.”

“Argosy, we copy. Please stand by.”

“Well what do you make of that,” Glover said to Peters. The Sea Fighter was near the Argosy now, matching speed and separated by two hundred yards of roiling sea. “Where do we go with that?”

“I don’t know, Sir” Peters said. “The way that ship’s rolling it would be rough trying to board. I think we could pull it off, but then what? We’re not computer experts. They certainly can’t launch their lifeboats while they’re rolling like that. I guess we could launch our big rigid inflatable and try to fish people out of the drink one by one if they jumped. But in these conditions? There’d certainly be injuries and if there was any lack of coordination, we could lose a few.”

Glover frowned and keyed the mic. “Argosy, can you damp that roll and launch your lifeboats? Over.”

“Negative, Sea Fighter. Turing is using the ship’s stabilizers to prevent us from abandoning ship. Like everything else on board, we’re locked out of those controls. Over.”

“Argosy, what assistance can we provide then? Over.”

Antonio paused. The arrival of a rescue vessel was so sudden and unexpected that he was at a loss to answer.

“May I?” Frank said reaching for the radio. Antonio surrendered it.

“Sea Fighter, can you get a satellite telephone to us?” Frank said, and then “Over,” as Antonio mouthed the word at him.

“Stand by Argosy. Over.”

“What do you think?” Glover asked Peters.

The Seal commander leaned over the readouts on the console in front of them. Winds were sustained at forty-five knots with gusts to fifty-five.

“Touch and go, sir. If we head downwind, we’ll get into the air okay. And probably back on board without any serious damage, assuming the wind doesn’t build any further and we catch a bad gust at the last minute. But getting something on deck on the Argosy will be tricky, especially without anyone trained to receive it.”

“Are you game?” Glover asked.

Peters picked up a set of binoculars and studied what he could see of the ship. The rolling was very considerable; at least a hundred degrees from side to side. That meant anyone standing up there to make the catch would be swinging in an arc almost the width of the ship.

“I can give it a try, sir. No guarantee of success, though.”

Glover nodded. “Argosy, give us half an hour to scramble a helicopter. Can you have a team on your top deck to receive a drop? Over.”

Frank handed the mic back to Antonio. “Affirmative, Sea Fighter. Thanks for the help. Over.”

*  *  *

Author’s Notes: Not much to say this week; everything that’s going on is out there in the open. The pace is fast now and will stay that way through to the end of the book, with lots of options for keeping the story line exciting.

One quick note on where book ideas come from. Each is like the seed of a tree. If you’re lucky, many ideas will come to you, only a few of which will ever mature into a complete book. In the case of this book, it was the long hallways I invariably saw on each of the three cruises my wife and I have taken. They really are a bit creepy, and they really did make me think of The Shining. 

That small seed got a large boost of sunlight when we took a guided tour of the Queen Mary 2 during an Atlantic crossing last year. All of the descriptions you’ve read to date are close approximations of locations on that vessel – the bridge, the engine control room, and the pub, for example. The boost I just referred to came in the engine control room where, just as did Frank Sr. and Simone some chapters back, we were given a description of the massive stabilizer fins with which the ship was equipped. That’s when the wheels really started turning. When I saw a YouTube video of Boston Dynamics’s robodogs not long thereafter, I knew that this seedling was on its way.

Next week: Tom Peters makes his move. Continue reading here

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