The surviving Hammer Shark units regrouped, their AI collectively recognizing the deception. They redistributed targets based on damage probability, approach angles, and remaining fuel. Two torpedoes even went dark, loitering in place while their brothers drew defensive fire.
“Holy hell,” someone whispered.
The attack unfolded like a deadly ballet. Torpedoes feinted high, drawing defensive fire, while others slipped through the noise below. The carrier’s escorts found themselves turning to engage threats from every quadrant, their overlapping defense zones suddenly full of gaps.
When the simulation ended, the carrier listed dead in the water, both destroyers were sinking, and a frigate burned from stem to stern.
“Six Hammer Sharks expended,” Mack tallied. “Total cost: forty-eight million. Damage inflicted? One carrier group mission-killed. That’s a thirteen-billion-dollar trade in your favor.”
“True, but they’ll adapt,” Tang said quietly. “The PLA will develop countermeasures.”
“Of course. I’m sure they already are.” Mack pulled up some intelligence photos that US Naval Intelligence had cleared for her to share. They showed Chinese naval bases with new acoustic arrays, towed decoys designed specifically for high-speed torpedoes, even experimental directed-microwave weapons for underwater use. “Which is why we don’t rely on any single system.”
Mick’s voice returned over the speakers. “Dolphins have cleared the test range. We are cleared to resume the exercise.”
“Outstanding. Petty Officer Wang, your team’s up.” Mack reset the range display. “This time, you’re programming a Hammer Shark for harbor infiltration. Target is a destroyer tied up at pier. Defenses include anti-torpedo nets, patrol boats, and active sonar. Show me how you thread that needle.”
Wang’s team huddled over their tablets, fingers flying across the interface. The Hammer Shark’s programming screen looked like abstract art — decision trees branching into probability clouds, behavioral parameters expressed in mathematical notation.
“Sir,” Wang said after ten minutes, “we’re ready.”
“Launch when ready.”
The Hammer Shark slipped into the water with barely a splash, its pump-jet propulsion nearly silent. On the display, it immediately dove deep, hugging the bottom contours.
“Conservative approach,” Mack noted. “Trading speed for stealth.”
The torpedo crept forward at eight knots, less than a quarter of its maximum speed. Every few minutes it would stop entirely, passive sensors drinking in the acoustic environment. When a patrol boat passed overhead, the Hammer Shark actually buried itself in the bottom sediment, playing dead until the threat passed.
“Jesus,” Mick’s voice came over comms. “That’s not a torpedo, that’s a sea snake.”
Three hours later — compressed to twenty minutes in simulation time — the Hammer Shark reached the harbor mouth. Antitorpedo nets blocked the obvious approaches, but Wang’s programming had anticipated this. The weapon located a gap where tidal flow had shifted the net anchors, just wide enough for its sleek body.
“Threading the needle,” Ensign Zhao breathed.
Inside the harbor, new challenges arose. Commercial traffic, police boats, active sonar pinging from shore installations. The Hammer Shark wove between obstacles like a living thing, its AI making thousands of microadjustments.
Then it found the destroyer.
“Target acquired,” Wang announced. “Initiating terminal run.”
The Hammer Shark had two options: impact the hull directly or swim beneath and detonate under the keel. Wang’s programming chose option three — neither.
The torpedo surfaced just long enough for its optical sensor to verify target identity, then dove again. It swam beneath the destroyer, past it, then turned back toward the pier. When it detonated, the explosion destroyed not just the ship but a significant section of the dock infrastructure.
“Mission kill plus infrastructure denial,” Mack said approvingly. “The destroyer’s not just sunk — it’s destroyed the pier. Well done.”
But Wang wasn’t celebrating. He stared at the aftermath display, calculating casualties from the dock explosion. “Collateral damage. Those were civilian dock workers in the simulation.”
“Yes, they were.” Mack’s voice softened. “This is the reality of autonomous weapons. Your programming, your ethics, your choices — they all matter. The Hammer Shark will do exactly what you tell it, so you better be damn sure what you’re telling it is right.”
The room fell quiet. Outside, the real ocean sparkled under the tropical sun, peaceful and deceptive.
“Let’s talk rules of engagement,” Mack continued. “The Hammer Shark can discriminate between military and civilian targets, but only if properly programmed. It can abort attacks if conditions change, but only if you build in those safeguards. Every line of code you write is a moral decision.”
Tang stepped forward. “In a shooting war, those distinctions become difficult.”
