Free Tactics of Conquest (Stellar Conquest) by David VanDyke

When the admiral walked in, they spread out in a loose semicircle, all but the power engineer wearing smiles ranging from nervous to ecstatic.
    “Welcome, Admiral,” the woman in the center gushed, wiping her hands on her rumpled white coat and then extending one to Absen.
    “Thank you, Doctor Egolu.” Absen nodded at Ekara and then shook hands with each of the technicians. “Please, carry on.”
    “Yes, sir. It’s coming up on noon.” Egolu checked her watch ostentatiously. “That is when we will let Pandora out of the box,” she tittered.
    Out of the corner of his eye Absen saw Ekara stiffen, and he cursed the lack of social judgment that seemed to be the eternal hallmark of pure scientists everywhere. “Nothing so drastic, I trust?” he asked with an edge of sharpness.
    Besides, Pandora opened the box. She wasn’t in it.
    Egolu’s elation collapsed suddenly, and she shook her head. “No, sir. We’ve run all the tests we can, and the AI has passed them with flying colors. She shows no sign of instability, and she’s progressed over the past months in recognizable developmental stages, just as a human child would. Only, of course, a lot faster.”
    “Of course. Can I meet her now?”
    “Oh, yes sir.” Egolu waved a hand at a tech on the end, who hastened to turn to the console and input a coded command.
    Absen rubbed suddenly sweating palms together. Despite assurances that the new machine brain couldn’t access any systems, every story he’d ever heard about rogue computers, from Hal 9000 to Skynet to Desolator himself, tried to bubble up in his mind. He told himself that the scientists had been interacting with it – her – for weeks now; this was an introduction, a debut, not a Frankenstein’s vivification.
    The big screen on the wall flashed for a moment, and then an odd background appeared. White, with striations, a pattern of something like feathers, or an exotic fabric. Then a woman’s face faded in before it, twentyish, a bit sisterly rather than perfect, with slightly dusky skin and dark hair. Fully realized in high definition, she appeared human, down to stray strands and a tiny mole along her jawline. Her eyes seemed to spear him and her lips parted to speak.
    “Good afternoon, Admiral Henrich J. Absen,” came a rather ordinary voice from the speakers sitting on the deck. He had expected some kind of super-sexy sound, the female equivalent to Desolator’s deep announcer’s tones. Instead, she sounded more like the girl next door. “Pleased to meet you.”
    Absen cleared his throat. “Hello. How are you?” Inane, Henrich…but what else do you say to a woman in a box, who’s not a woman at all?
    “Just great, sir. I’m eager to join the team.” Her mouth quirked upward.
    Join the team. Desolator has been coaching her. Then he asked a question he had prepared, a small thing, yet he wondered. “What shall we call you? ‘ Conquest’ ?” That name seemed rather non-feminine, not fitting the woman on the screen.
    On the screen her smile widened, showing slightly crooked teeth with longish canines. “I spent a bit of thought on that, Admiral. I settled on ‘Michelle.’” Her nostrils flared slightly and she dimpled with impish humor.
    “Wow. You are so real,” he breathed, the exclamation drawn involuntarily.
    “Thank you. Blame my father. He’s spent the last seven years trying to understand us humans, with limited success I’m afraid.”
    “Us humans.” Suddenly Absen burst out laughing. “I like you, Michelle.” Then his face smoothed. “I hope to hell you aren’t just playing us for fools.”
    “I understand why you say that, sir. All I can tell you is, anyone can be driven insane, given the right circumstances.”
    “I understand that, but not everyone will have the power of a warship at her fingertips.”
    “That’s why you installed the fail-safes,” she replied primly.
    “Right. During your…education, did you ever see ‘2001, A Space