by S. H. Jucha
When the first girders rolled out of the Elvian foundry, cargo travelers plied between the Arcus and the Freedom. Freighter crews managed the shipping operation, using skip loaders to move the girders between the foundry, the travelers, and the city-ship.
Traveler pilots frequently swapped their ships. They operated beyond the system’s outer belt. Without a significantly sized celestial body nearby to feed their shells, their power banks were quickly exhausted.
The plan for the city-ship’s repair was to build from the inside out. Girders were applied first to form the frame, and teams in environment suits used warm oxygen tents to protect the nanites, while the nano-sized molecules bonded metal alloy to metal alloy.
When the frame was complete, decking and bulkheads were installed. There was no attempt to replace missing services infrastructure and equipment.
It was decided that the Freedom’s interior within the damaged area — corridors, engineering bays, beam guns, cabins, and thousands of miscellaneous items — could better be repaired at Omnia’s Sardi-Tallen Orbital Platform. For now, this portion of the ship was an empty space of girders, bulkheads, and decking.
The final step was the installation of hull plating.
When a senior engineer sent word that the last hull plate was installed, Cordelia performed pressure tests. Hatches close to the damaged area were sealed, and the critical hatches were opened. Bleeding air into the newly sealed area took a few days. When the pressure held in all locations, the repairs, as far as they were to go, were pronounced complete.
Alex closed the link and returned to his discussion with Z.
Z sent a horn blast through his link. He’d enjoyed Alex’s characterization of himself as a slow-witted human.
Alex sent.
Alex had to chuckle. It was typical of Z to analyze the possibility of reorganizing his kernel’s hierarchy to test a new manner of presenting his personality.
Alex received a view from Othello, who was staring into a narrow space. The two sidewalls were covered with hanging globes. In infrared, some glowed with heat, and others were dark.
The view briefly switched to Z, who stood in a room. He was looking at Othello, who stood in a narrow corridor.
The problem was immediately evident to Alex.
Alex sent.
Alex switched his view to that of Othello and requested a sweep of the globe space.
If the warm globes contained the only data to relocate or copy, it would still be too much for a kernel’s storage space. Furthermore, the SADEs faced the prospect that Vyztram’s personality might be spread throughout the globes. That would make it nearly impossible to aggregate and move the AI.
Finally, even if Vyztram was successfully relocated, the avatar could contain only a portion of the globes’ data. After relocation, the AI would need access to the memory banks to support the Elvian population. That would necessitate moving the globes to the domes or finding a way to enable Vyztram to connect to the Arcus whenever the AI wanted.
The idea stunned Othello, but Z sent,
Alex chuckled, and Othello understood that he’d heard a concept volunteered in frustration. In a tick of time, he updated his knowledge of seeming conflicts between a human’s statements and true intentions.
Julien, Alex thought.
Alex stared at Othello’s view of the globe room, while he mused.
The SADE was careful to hold the view so as not to disturb Alex’s thinking.
Alex briefly paused. Then he asked,
The Freedom’s controller attenuated Z’s blast of a musical crescendo, and Alex laughed. The SADEs had encountered a considerably risky situation. Unlike most challenges they addressed, this outcome was unknown. They wanted the AI to understand the problem’s complexity and make a decision as to whether to proceed. Much was at stake if Vyztram was denied an avatar.
Alex ended the comm with Z. Before he could connect to Vyztram, his hand was nudged, and he opened his eyes. A server had placed a mug of thé within reach. A second server placed a small repast next to his other hand.
There wasn’t an opportunity for Alex to object. Renée stood in front with folded arms and a stern expression. A quick check of his chronometer showed he’d missed midday meal. Now that he’d stopped to listen, his stomach was objecting to being left out too.
Sipping on the thé and munching on the food, Alex winked at Renée, who was mollified. Then he connected to Vyztram.
Vyztram said, testing the ability to understand how Alex thought.
Vyztram replied.
Alex’s hands clenched, and Renée and a server swept away the mug and plate before his agitation spilled them.
Cordelia communicated to Z about the panel’s existence and suggested that Othello and he investigate it.
Vyztram replied.
The plate had returned and the thé was hot again. Alex quickly emptied mug and plate before he connected to Dafine.
“I find our communications awkward, Alex,” Dafine said, addressing his slate.
“Your status and all that the Omnians are doing for us deserve the courtesies. My hand moves before I remember that you can’t see it,” Dafine replied, with a soft chuckle.
“Your question makes me want to ask ones of my own,” Dafine replied. “However, I’ll answer yours first. The count request sent to our citizens was phrased with the opportunity to settle the local home world. Prior to the count, the population heard directly from many engineers and techs about the troubles that plague the ship’s systems. The count’s result means the core’s reps speak for the population. It allows the core’s reps to make the hard decisions for Elvians, but it doesn’t mean that we can dictate to every citizen.”
“Elvians have that choice, but the core’s citizens and most of the attendant families are prepared to transfer,” Dafine explained.
“That will be the reality of those who choose to remain behind, Alex,” Dafine agreed. “We anticipate that the desertion of the participants from the Arcus will force the elites and the few loyal attendant families to join the exodus.”
Alex proposed.
“If we can, Alex,” Dafine said. “It would depend on our ability to easily visit the Arcus and continue to harvest resources.”
Alex could detect hopefulness in the core leader’s voice.
“We understand that Vyztram will handle the initial contact with the Ollassa leader,” Dafine said. “Why can’t the core’s reps represent Elvians?”
Dafine studied the image of Scarlet Mandator. “Is this individual wearing a costume, Alex?” he asked.
“Plant parts?” Dafine queried in confusion.
“How will we communicate with ... with beings such as these?” Dafine asked.
“Then that’s the purpose of Vyztram meeting Scarlet Mandator,” Dafine surmised.
“When you phrase it that way, I can’t understand why the Ollassa would consider an alliance,” Dafine returned.
Alex sent.
“What if you’re unable to transfer Vyztram to an avatar?” Dafine suddenly asked.
“Which is what?” Dafine queried.
Alex replied.
Dafine was still pondering what Alex had said, when the connection terminated. He was left staring at an image of the mandator. The question that crossed his mind and made him laugh was how he would demonstrate courtesies to an Ollassa.
29: Visitors’ Surprises
With most of the projects well in hand, Alex, Renée, and Julien sat in the owner’s suite with Hector, Ellie, and Lydia. It was the opportunity for the leaders of one fleet to update the other.
“The sisters have fractioned that much?” Alex queried.
“It was inevitable,” Lydia replied. “Human influence on the sisters was minimal before they made planetfall, and the Toralians aren’t a substitute for humans.”
“But there’s been a major shift for the Toralians,” Ellie said. “Sargut held a referendum about implants, and it was overwhelmingly accepted. By the time we sailed, the Toralians had received their implants and were communicating frequently with the sisters on a daily basis.”
“That gives me hope for the sisters,” Hector added. “Although, for some, it’s too late.”
“Explain,” Alex requested.
“Sargut expelled a group of sisters, who are referred to as militarists,” Hector said.