Ex Machina

by Christopher L. Bennett

  “Very well.” He spoke of how he, Kirk, McCoy, and Decker had found Voyager 6 at the heart of V’Ger and discovered its origins and objectives. Assuming its Creator to be a fellow machine and finding no sign of it, V’Ger had assumed the humans “infesting” the Earth were interfering with its operation, and had launched its energy bolts to surround the planet in a matrix which, upon its completion, would have disintegrated all life on Earth’s surface. The only way to prevent this had been to persuade V’Ger that humans were its creators. But V’Ger would tolerate nothing less than a physical merger. “Since it saw matter as merely a form of information, it equated the sharing of information with the sharing of physical essence. It saw its mission as to become one with its Creator.”

  He spoke briefly of how Decker had volunteered for reasons of his own, and coded in the transmit sequence. “V’Ger then turned its scanning matrix on itself, dematerializing itself, Captain Decker, and the Ilia probe, and somehow recombining their patterns and their minds into a hybrid form which was greater than the sum of its parts. This new hybrid entity, existing as pure information encoded as a subspace energy matrix, then decoupled itself from our dimensional brane.”

  “And thus it rose to join with the Creators,” Dovraku added.

  “I have no information on its subsequent itinerary,” Spock replied dryly. He made no mention of his lingering rapport with the Voyager; that was none of Dovraku’s business.

  “There is much of the tale you have not told. Such as your captain’s attempt to destroy the god, by destroying his own ship at V’Ger’s core.” Dovraku took on a look of satisfaction. “In short, a suicide bombing. One more act of terrorism against the gods.

  “But V’Ger survived the attempt. V’Ger is the herald, who has shown the way for the other gods to be reborn. And now the Oracle will join Him.”

  Both Spock’s brows climbed high. “Am I to understand that you expect the Oracle to achieve a transformation equivalent to V’Ger’s?”

  “Not equivalent. Greater.”

  Spock found the suggestion quite amusing, though humor was inappropriate under the circumstances. V’Ger had been as vast and complex as any corporeal mind bound by the limits of matter and four-dimensional physics could possibly get. It had already been on the threshold, and only needed that one extra spark to achieve metasapience. But the Oracle was not even as advanced as the Enterprise’s computer; it lacked even normal sapience. What Dovraku was proposing was analogous to expecting a horse-drawn chariot to attain warp speed. However, Spock knew the distinction would be lost on a man to whom all computers were equally magical.

  Soreth didn’t show the same judgment, however. “This is absurd. The Oracle is a simple mechanism, millennia less advanced than V’Ger. How could it possibly achieve such a feat?”

  “In the same way mighty V’Ger did,” Dovraku replied, ignoring the slight to his god. “By merging with another mind. That is why you are here, Spock. You have melded with one god—you can meld with another. You will be the bridge by which the Oracle and I, His faithful servant, will ascend to the heavens.”

  * * *

  That settles it, McCoy thought as he gaped at Dovraku. The man is clinically delusional. Not that he was going to say so to his face, not with all those armed fanatics hovering around. McCoy could see their symptoms: the burns, the sores, the incipient hair loss, the bleeding gums. However these men and women had smuggled themselves up here, they’d voluntarily subjected themselves to high doses of radiation, which would probably be lethal if they didn’t get prompt hyronalin treatment. Clearly they were committed to their cause beyond all reason. And on one level, McCoy could see why. Dovraku’s words may have been lunatic, but there was something compelling, almost hypnotic about his controlled, confident delivery.

  Spock seemed unimpressed, though. “Is that all you wish? For the Oracle to depart our dimension?”

  “No, Spock. V’Ger left this plane because He was merely the herald. He merely prepared the way for the Oracle to rise to omnipotence, so that the One most wise could remake our universe in His image.” Dovraku moved closer to Spock, gazing deep into his eyes. “Think about it, Spock. Our world made paradise. No doubt, no pain, no confusion, no struggle. No more questions without answers. Only the mathematical purity of the Oracle’s logic, the binary certainty of right and wrong. Every being knowing his purpose, playing his role in the vast cosmic mechanism, receiving his just allotment of reward.”

  Spock shook his head. “I have seen a life defined by pure logic, Dovraku. It is barren, purposeless. V’Ger had all the answers logic could offer, yet still it felt empty and lost. For logic is only a means to an end, a tool for managing information. As an end in itself, it is hollow.”

  McCoy leaned over and whispered in Uhura’s ear. “You tell him, Spock! Our boy’s come a long way, hasn’t he?”

  Uhura smiled. “I always knew he had it in him.” Soreth, McCoy noticed, looked scandalized, but at least showed the good sense not to protest, lest he appear to be on Dovraku’s side.

  “That is why V’Ger could not evolve without Decker,” Spock was saying. “It needed an emotional, intuitive human to give it a sense of purpose.”

  “Ahh,” Dovraku countered, “but Decker could not evolve without V’Ger, could he? The mortal mind is too limited, too flawed to achieve transcendence on its own. It needs the clarity of the machine. It needs the discipline of logic to regulate and direct its emotions, as the Oracle regulated the People—otherwise they are chaotic, unbalanced, self-destructive. Is that not what your Surak said?”

  “The mind has the ability to manage its own emotions. It does not need an external regulating mechanism.”

  “But when machine and man are joined, it is no longer external, do you not see?” He leaned closer. “Consider it, Spock. What we shall achieve is the merger of man and machine, the synergy of both into a perfected One. We need no longer struggle to master our emotions, or fear being mastered by them, for we will have perfect, precisely calculated mastery at the core of our own beings. There would be no doubt, no hesitation, no failure. We would simply know ourselves with absolute precision, and be totally at peace.”

  Spock was silent for a moment, seeming to be considering Dovraku’s words. McCoy found this unnerving, remembering Spock’s own confessed fear of being mastered by his emotions. Had Dovraku struck a nerve?

  But then Spock said, “Even if I were to assist you in this meld, it would not achieve the same results that occurred with V’Ger. The Oracle does not possess V’Ger’s scanning matrix.”

  Dovraku grew smug. “Naturally I have accounted for that. All the necessary components have been brought together here and now, as destiny has mandated.”

  Suddenly a series of distant thuds began to resound, sending faint tremors through the floor and walls. Dovraku and his people looked around, surprised—apparently not everything was happening according to his idea of destiny. Could this be Jim’s rescue? McCoy wondered. But it sounded and felt like a series of massive explosions happening far away. Maybe a diversion?

  One of Dovraku’s people spoke up from the console she was monitoring. “Great One, there is a call coming in.”

  The terrorist leader tilted his head curiously. “Let me hear it.”

  A rainbow gargoyle appeared on the screen. “Attention, controllers of the asteroid-ship. I am Ssherrak Ki’threetl, speaking for the defense coalition of Kachissat. By firing your missiles, you have breached the contract between your species and the Shesshran. This forfeits our agreement and enables our right of retaliation!”

  Dovraku nodded to his soldier, telling her to open a return channel. “You do not speak to the government that made that agreement. I am Dovraku, herald of the new order. The Oracle has been reborn, and will shortly ascend to still greater heights. You will bow down in obedience or be erased.”

  The Shesshran hissed. “You! I knew the weaklings would be unable to contain you! Hear me, madman: you will not be permitted to enslave
any more minds. Now that you are out in the open, the hunt is on, and we will not rest until you are destroyed!”

  * * *

  Fortunately for Kirk, Natira, and the security team, Yonada’s hangar had been directly above the temple/control center. Once they reached the base of the mountain, they were close to the underground entrance—indeed, not far at all from where Kirk, Spock, and McCoy had originally beamed in four and a half years ago. They ran briskly across the barren plain, not stopping to catch their breath. That wasn’t as easy for Kirk as it once would have been. He thought he’d kept fit during his desk-job days, walking or jogging to SFHQ every morning, spending plenty of time at the gym, and taking frequent opportunities to go climbing or diving or horseback riding. But apparently even all that hadn’t compared to the kind of exercise he got exploring strange new worlds. Or maybe it was just that he was forty years old.

  Impressively, Natira managed to keep up pretty well, though she was lagging behind and panting hard. What she lacked in fitness, she was making up for in sheer determination—or sheer rage, judging from the look on her regal face.

  Once they neared the entrance, Kirk signaled them to stop just behind the last outcropping. Chekov consulted his tricorder while Kirk surreptitiously took a moment to catch his breath. “No guards—not up here, anyway. I don’t think they had very many… they’re probably all watching the temple.”

  “In which case,” Kirk said, trying not to sound too winded, “we need to find a way to take them by surprise.”

  “I know… of a maintenance corridor… leading into the control complex,” Natira said between gasps. “From my… study of the Book.”

  “Good. Once we get in, our priority will be the safety of the hostages.”

  “Hostages,” Natira scoffed. “Yet another subterfuge. I should have known… it was a trap. Rishala brought them here, I know it! Her surprise was poorly feigned.”

  “With respect, Governess, it wasn’t.” That was Ensign Zaand, who didn’t sound at all winded. Kirk envied him for being that fit at eighty-five—though come to think of it, the greatly delayed puberty was too much of a trade-off by far. “She was entirely sincere, more so than the other delegates. The others were ambivalent about Dovraku, either because they feared him or because they saw political advantage in appearing to support him. But she felt no fear of him and was the main reason the others were at the table at all. And she was genuinely surprised by the attack, as were all the delegates except Sonaya. That one seemed to be anticipating something all through the meeting, and when the attack came she instantly took cover without any pause to process surprise. She was the one most afraid of Dovraku, so I assume he pressured her into smuggling the raiding party aboard.”

  Natira stared at the Rhaandarite disbelievingly. “How can you know any of this?”

  “It was self-evident in their body language, expressions, and vocal inflections, ma’am. My people are better than most at reading such cues.”

  “Are they really?” she challenged.

  Kirk spoke up in his firmest tones. “Natira—I trust Rishala, and I trust my crew. If the ensign says that’s what they felt, then that’s what they felt. You can still make peace—if we act quickly and save the hostages.”

  Natira lifted her head haughtily. “Very well. We will liberate them and determine who is truly responsible. Come, let us hurry to the maintenance tunnel.”

  * * *

  “Damn.” Sulu had been thinking that this turn in the command chair would be fairly easy. At first, he’d just been keeping the seat warm while Kirk was at the conference. Then the fanatics had taken Yonada and lobbed a few missiles at the Enterprise—but that was fine, since they were primitive and slow and easy to hit. He’d only been disappointed that he couldn’t handle the target practice himself, though Perez had been managing quite well—as had DiFalco, who was sitting in at the helm and doing an excellent job of dodging the missiles and then chasing them down for the kill.

  But the Shesshran getting involved had changed things. Their ships couldn’t do much damage to the Enterprise, but he wasn’t so sure about Yonada itself. Its shell was pretty thick, but it was just asteroidal iron and nickel, and had limits to the amount of beating it could take—hence the need for the missiles in the first place. Sulu couldn’t be sure that a well-placed shot from the Shesshran’s particle beams couldn’t get through and kill the captain or the hostages.

  He turned to Auberson, the curly-haired fellow manning the comm station. “Hail the Shesshran!”

  “Channel open, sir.”

  “This is the Enterprise. Please stop your attacks at once! There are Starfleet personnel and innocent civilians on Yonada; you’re putting their safety at risk!” Silence. “Please respond!”

  Auberson shook his head. “They’re not listening.”

  “Warning shot?” Perez asked.

  Sulu thought about it. He fidgeted—the seat was getting uncomfortable. “No,” he decided. “We attack the Shesshran and we’ll never have any hope of patching things up between them and the Lorini.”

  “Sir!” That was Uuvu’ it at sciences. Sulu swiveled around. “Long-range sensors detect an object moving this way… reads as Shesshran build… looks like a pretty hefty plasma cannon.”

  Sulu frowned. “Coming in from Daran V, the kind of speeds they can muster, it should take a day or two to get here.”

  “It’s much closer. I think they had it holding nearby in case they got an excuse to pick a fight. Clever move.”

  “An ace up their sleeve. How much damage could it do to Yonada?”

  Uuvu’ it was uncharacteristically quiet. “Enough,” he finally chirped.

  Sulu peered at him. “Enough for what?”

  “Well… this isn’t a sure thing… but you know how Yonada gets its gravity?”

  “A collapsed-matter core, right?”

  “Right. And its degenerate electrons are all straining to reassert their territorial rights and push back out to a normal distance. Only the thick diamond shell is holding the core together against that pressure.”

  “Okay, so?”

  “Even diamond can fracture. It’s pretty deep, but… well, that core’s been fighting the pressure for ten thousand years. Sooner or later something’s got to give, and if Yonada’s getting whacked with a plasma cannon…”

  “I get it. What happens if the core cracks?” Sulu asked. He thought he had a pretty good idea, but he hoped he was wrong.

  “All that collapsed matter re-expands.”

  “Suddenly?”

  “Very suddenly.”

  “So what you’re telling me is…”

  “Tremendous explosion. Right, sir.”

  “How tremendous?”

  “I wouldn’t advise being within twenty thousand kilometers or so.”

  Sulu stared. “The planet is within twenty thousand kilometers.”

  “You see why smart people don’t live on planets? False sense of security. They look so big and sturdy—it just makes them easy targets that can’t dodge.”

  Sulu stared some more. Then he turned to Auberson. “Hail the captain!”

  Kirk was slow to reply. “I’m a little busy right now, Sulu.”

  “This is urgent, sir.” He filled the captain in quickly. “I think maybe you should be up here.”

  “Sulu, right now we’re sneaking our way into the control center by a back route. It’s… a little cramped, and reversing course isn’t much of an option. So unless you can beam us out…”

  Sulu looked to Mercado at engineering, and the young ensign simply shook his head. “Sorry, sir,” Sulu reported. “No transporter lock.”

  “Then you’ll just have to deal with the Shesshran yourself, Commander.”

  “Do I have your authorization to open fire?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it… but I don’t want to tie your hands. Use your best judgment, Mr. Sulu. I have full confidence in you. Kirk out.”

  Full confidence. Why was everyone so hell-bent
on convincing him he was cut out for this? Ship-to-ship combat was something he could handle, but the decision of whether or not to use deadly force could have profound diplomatic consequences. Destroy Shesshran ships and it would start a war that the Lorini couldn’t win and the Federation couldn’t fight in; but use kid gloves and half Lorina’s atmosphere could be blown away. It looked like a no-win situation.

  In Sulu’s Kobayashi Maru test, he’d dealt with the no-win scenario by choosing not to play, refusing to answer the distress call since the risk had been too great. He’d decided the most responsible choice was to do nothing. He’d taken hell for it from his classmates, and the difficulty of having to choose was part of the reason he hadn’t subsequently pursued the command track with any seriousness. But now he was in command, and doing nothing was not an option here.

  Well, maybe it wasn’t a no-win situation yet. Maybe he could drive the Shesshran off without killing them. It would take a delicate touch—but so did folding origami cranes, or piloting a ship into warp with the manual-override throttle. “Chief DiFalco,” he ordered, “take us in between Yonada and the Shesshran ships. Perez, shields and forcefields to full, warp power to the phasers!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Pull out its plug, Mr. Spock.

  —James T. Kirk

  THE SHESSHRAN had cut the channel after delivering their ultimatum, leaving Dovraku no chance to respond. But he didn’t seem interested in responding—not verbally, at least. Instead he had headed for the control room behind the altar and pointed to Spock. “Bring him!”

  But no sooner had they reached the control complex than one of Dovraku’s people came back after them. “Great One,” she said, “we’ve detected a large weapon traveling toward us.” She went to a console and called up the readings. The Fabrini readouts weren’t as clear to Spock as the Federation consoles in the temple, but he quickly discerned the nature of the weapon and the danger it posed.

  “Dovraku,” he warned, “you must surrender now. If that weapon is fired on Yonada, it could destabilize the collapsed-matter core. The resultant explosion would destroy Yonada.”