The A.I. proceeded to shut-down all processes allocated in its systems as those belonging to, or consisting of Zirkos, collecting all peripheral data in the ships data blocks that belonged to its Makers memories. When ready, the A.I. began the process of transmuting the organic material it had collected into the physical being of its Maker from the stored pattern retrieved from the Pod.
Finally, it transferred all Zirkos’ data memories since departing the Pod up to the moment of transmutation.
Deep in the T-Ship the deep red-beamed curtain flowed over the empty sleep plinth in the quarters that would become those of its Maker, Zirkos. As the beam proceeded, sparks flowed downward at an increasingly fast rate until the beam was saturated with the reflective light and nothing could be seen of that which occurred within.
After a time the light curtain disappeared. The physical being that was now Zirkos, lay deeply unconscious while the nanobots that had been transferred at the same time began to meld those physical attributes forced into the body to a level where it could survive contact with the planet below.
The resultant platinum blonde haired, silver skinned features were almost human, differences were minor. Some cosmetic modifications had been made to enable Zirkos to blend in, be accepted and interact with the humans.
Extra storage and processing power had been implemented into the trunk of the body. Zirkos had returned as a male, his natural form. A female would not prove acceptable to many of the humans. Being asexual would have meant further unnecessary modification, something Zirkos was keen to avoid. A male would also have advantages in negotiating.
Zirkos had decided he needed allies. These humans could become friends of his people. He was impressed with their variety and their tenacity in all things, especially the sciences.
They could be incredibly aggressive and warring, yet also compassionate and caring. He felt their race was worthy of development. He had also decided he would assist this process so that they in turn might offer assistance in the fight against the Nubl and the defence of his people.
***
Zeke awoke, but kept his eyes shut as he tried to place his location. Sensing movement nearby he sat up, then finally remembering where he was, or more accurately, where he didn’t know he was, he immediately went into a mild panic while he rationalised everything that had occurred.
He was in a grey room with no door. He was healed, whole and felt great. He began to relax again as his fight or flight reflex faded.
The restoring sleep had done as much for him as the realisation that he no longer suffered the pain and agony caused by the metal plate. He was unaware that the nanobots were still in his system helping to balance his metabolism to the absence of the Alacite poison.
The absence of the plate was the best gift he had received from his still unknown benefactor.
Now though, Zeke had a big problem. He was hungry.
Paying closer attention and looking around he noticed why he had sensed movement. There was now a grey table and chair in his room. It had been put there while he slept. On it was a pitcher of what looked like water and a glass. A plate of something was beside it.
Getting off the bed he walked without pain and still naked, to the chair which appeared fixed to the floor. He then sat looking carefully at the small platter of food. It was nothing he recognised.
He was thirsty. Taking hold of the pitcher he drank directly from it rather than the glass. He looked at the food trying to decide what it was. It looked like those fruit fingers, he remembered from his childhood where they compressed leftover fruit into chew bars as a way of getting it inside kids.
Picking up a green one, he bit off a piece. It tasted okay, but he couldn’t decide if it was meat, vegetable or other. Selecting a brown one he did the same. This one had a nutty flavour, a protein bar maybe? He wondered if he should eat them all, or at all. He had no idea what was in them.
His stomach decided for him. He ate all four bars voraciously as though he hadn’t eaten for a week. The pitcher of water was also drained and five minutes later he sat back in the new chair feeling comfortably full. The bars whatever they were, expanded to fill him.
As he felt his energy rise he realised that whatever it was in those bars, his body felt the benefits immediately. Better than KP rations, much better, he thought. Although a burger wouldn’t have gone amiss, or a coffee for that matter.
Zeke sat and thought about where he was and on top of that, he wondered,what had happened to him.
He was bright so it didn’t take him long to realise that he was currently the recipient of very advanced technology. There was much he didn’t yet know about what had happened and where he was. He knew though, not to feel fear or anxiety.
His prior training had prepared him with the instincts that anticipated danger or threat. He felt none of that here. Besides, why would he be healed only to be subsequently injured or killed. No, he felt his safety was not currently in question. His future though, that was definitely uncertain.
He was also vaguely aware of something not quite right about his situation. He felt different, his weight seemed out of kilter as if his density was somehow less than his muscle memory expected. Mentally he seemed much, much quicker. Perhaps the removal of the plate had something to do with that.
He had felt its depressing infiltration of his body over a long period of time to be having a debilitating effect on his ability to think. Now, clear of the plate and its crippling effects, he realised he could almost sense the damage it had done, which he felt had somehow been partially repaired.
As he assimilated all this he came to realise that he could feel more of his bodily reactions to things. His mind sensed what he didn’t yet understand. He would continue to trust his instincts.
He looked down at the table and noted that it was formed in one piece, the legs and top were moulded, like plastic, only it wasn’t any plastic he was familiar with. It seemed to be the same stuff the walls were made of, and the wash basin. It was all seamlessly joined to the floor, or wall.
Looking closely at the bed, it seemed to flow out of the wall identical in make-up to the rest of the room.
So, he was dealing with an unknown technology that either moulded everything to suit, or was prefabricated in one piece and dropped into place.
He looked over at the only flaw in that hypothesis, the table and chair.
They were as equally formed as any part of the room, but were not present before he slept.
He mentally chewed over that one while he dealt with the secondary, but in reality the deeper concern. The lack of a door.
He had to have been put in here, as did the furniture. While he slept.
Yet here he still was, in a rectangular room, and still no evidence of a door.
Standing up he walked to the open wall space where he would have put a door if he was building the room. He then proceeded to minutely examine the surface looking for a seam which just had to be there.
He noted the fact that his eyes, a growing problem recently with the metal plate, were now of perfect vision and he marvelled at his new ability to see clearly without squinting.
That set his mind roaming off on other aspects of his new found health and on impulse he rushed over to the mirror and opened his mouth wide. Nope, no fillings. Hah! Whatever removed the metal plate took all the metal in his body. Interesting.
Going back to the walls he slowly and meticulously circuited the whole room. There was not a single seam anywhere, not even where anything intersected with it, or where floor and ceiling met up with the wall.
He returned to the washbasin, something was nagging in his memory, but he couldn’t dredge it up. Turning on the tap he watched the water. It went down the plughole, but there was something weird about it. He couldn’t fathom it yet. He knew it was important and when he realised what it was, he would have an answer, he was sure.
Then he realised that there was lighting in the room, with no apparent light source evident. The illumina
tion seemed to be everywhere, and yet there were no shadows.
He decided it was time to try for explanations. He called out and banged on the wall, a little tentatively at first, where he hoped the door would be. He couldn’t hear anything on the other side, and the sounds he made seemed very muffled. He decided that the room must be soundproofed. Oh! ominous, or what!
He persevered deciding to shout to add to the effort of gaining attention from someone.
“HELLO?”
The sound of his voice seemed good after so long a silence.
“HELLO? IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?”
He banged on the wall again for emphasis in case anyone could hear on the other side.
“Hello, how can I help you, Human?” a mechanised voice queried.
It seemed to squeeze itself out of the wall, Zeke couldn’t detect a single location or a speaker.
Zeke couldn’t decide if it was male or female. Someone on the other end was monitoring him. Hidden cameras?
“Where am I?”
“In a room designed specifically for your needs,” the mechanised voice replied.
“What do you mean ‘for my needs’?”
“You are human, you require facilities that provide for your necessary functions, to survive.”
That got him concerned. Referring to someone as human implied the mechanised voice wasn’t, or viewed ‘humans’ as something separate to itself. Zeke’s head was buzzing with the possibilities, he decided to get it to qualify his thoughts.
“Why do you refer to me as ‘Human’? Who are you?”
“You are what your race refer to as a human being. I am not a ‘who,’ I am a ‘what’ and ‘what’ I am is an Artificial Intelligence,” the voice responded almost with empathy.
Zeke had cottoned onto this fact already, his mind had speeded up somehow and he was making the connections, but hadn’t figured it all out, but he was trying hard. This artificial intelligence seemed an affable character. He decided to talk to it and find out more information.
“Do you have a name?”
“I am called ‘Ship’ by my Maker.”
“Ship, where is your Maker?”
“The Maker is presently reconstituting. I have instructions to make you comfortable, it was not anticipated you would be asking questions at this stage. I am not able to provide you anything further than food and liquids.” Ship responded.
“Do you require anything else?” it asked.
“No. Actually yes, please. I would like more food,” Zeke asked.
He deliberately moved closer to the wall where the door would be, anticipating that would be the direction it came.
Ship obviously detected the shallow subterfuge and dashed his hopes of an escape or view of the outside world.
“I detect that your body requires no sustenance at this moment, your digestion is at optimum efficiency, you will require food in four hours and forty minutes as humans measure time.”
“I see, so I am being monitored. You said you are called Ship so are you the Ship’s computer?”
“Yes, I control all functions on the ship,” it responded.
Zeke was impressed! Ship, whatever it was, seemed capable of answering multiple questions and deciding which ones were rhetorical, and which required a response.
“Ship, why is there no door to my room?”
A delay, as if pondering the response.
“Because a door is presently not required.”
“and when one is required?” Zeke asked almost knowing what the answer was going to be, but it needed to be said.
“When a door is required, it will be provided,” Ship responded.
“How will you do that, Ship?”
“I am unable to answer that question at this time.”
“Ship, I require a door” Zeke commanded, ever hopeful.
“Unable to accept the command. You are not a Maker” Ship actually explained.
“If I am on a ship, where is the ship located?”
“I am unable to answer that question at this time”
“When can I speak to a human, your Maker?”
“As soon as my Maker is fully reconstituted I will make him aware of your request,” Ship reassured him.
“What do you mean ‘reconstituted’?”
“I am unable to answer that question at this time”
“Ship, is there anything I can do, I need entertainment?”
“I can provide you with your planet’s internet services if this will help you. I can also provide any TV stations or music channels available on your world. I cannot currently provide you with a telephone device to communicate with. This is a purely technical issue.”
“You are very accommodating Ship, do you treat all of your prisoners this well?”
“Human, you are not a prisoner. You were dying, you are now healthy. That which was killing you was removed from your system. The Maker purely wishes to observe your recovery. That is all.”
“Aaah! Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound churlish. Its just that I am not happy being locked up in here,” he admitted a little defensively.
“When the Maker found you, were you not locked up in a small room?” Ship asked.
“Um! Yes! I suppose so, but I had done that for my own protection,” Zeke countered.
“Quite so!” Ship answered making the parallel between protection there and here obvious.
The sound of human voices suddenly startled Zeke and he swung around to find a forty inch screen embedded in the wall. It was showing a news report, the CNN logo indicating a US channel. A remote control hung off the wall.
Below it a small desk had appeared, also a small screen and a keyboard and mouse. There was a typist chair with wheels pushed underneath it. The screen showed a browser navigated to a news page.
“I believe this should meet your needs, Human. It has been copied from a typical design from the area you frequented. Please let me know if it doesn’t suit. It can be ‘modified’.”
“How?... How did you do that?...” he was speechless.
Zeke realised he would not yet get a response from Ship as to just how it had achieved this fantastic feat of electrical and structural engineering. He had already examined these walls with a fine focused pair of eyes. Those walls had no seams. The Ship had made all of that electrical gear while he wasn’t looking. This was some clever stuff going on here. He was impressed.
“Ship?”
“Yes, Human?”
“Thank you, Ship.”
“You are welcome, Human.”
“Ship?”
“Yes, Human?”
“My name is ‘Zeke,’ Human is my race, Zeke is my personal name.”
“Thank you, Zeke. We had wondered if you had such a calling. You were not interacting with other humans so we had no opportunity to ascertain how you were called,” Ship explained by way of an apology.
“If you need anything further please request it by calling my ‘name’.” The A.I. finished.
Zeke could only nod his head in thanks, he was all out of speech for the moment.
He walked to the wall and removed the remote control, then sat there and caught up with a world that he no longer seemed a part of. As he flitted through the channels there was nothing on any of them that interested him or that he could relate to.
Somehow, the last few years of being on the streets coupled with his strange abduction by ‘The Maker’ and ’Ship’ had resulted in a massive dis-associative reaction in him. He no longer seemed to care.
At least the scientists wouldn’t be wanting him any more. If he went home he might even be able to lead a normal life. Now there’s a thought.
What would a normal life be for him now? A week, or so ago he had only wanted a job, a chance to improve his personal situation. Now, he felt as if those priorities had changed. Now, he wanted more, but as yet couldn’t identify the yearning inside.
Zeke turned off the television, preferring the silence to the babble of the arti
ficial life forms sitting as anchors to their news channels. He laughed, ‘artificial life forms’ as opposed to Ship’s artificial intelligence. Ship was a coming out a clear winner, he decided.
Damn! He thought, an artificial intelligence that you could actually have a proper conversation with. Where on earth was he? Or a more speculatively, was he still on Earth?
- 10 -
Ferris sat at the head of the conference table. Around it sat fourteen lab-coated attendees who all remained quiet while he read through their summation a second time, then a third. He was not happy, he was used to getting what he wanted, always. This was telling him he was not getting what he wanted. This was not good. Not good at all.
When he felt he had absorbed everything the single page of tightly typed script had to offer, he sighed for emphasis and looked up at his team.
“Gentlemen, need I remind you that your grant is up for renewal next month.”
He looked around the table at the scientists, all top of their fields and the exclusive property of the United States Military due to the nature of the work they carried out. All happy in their positions, well compensated for their lack of official recognition out in their respective fields.
Nobody moved their heads, a nod or a shake would bring unwelcome attention on them, deciding it was best to keep a low profile until this particular ‘shit storm’ blew over.
Ferris knew them well and could play them like a violin. He decided to wind the strings a little tighter. He understood their problems, but it was important to keep the whip cracking over their heads. It bred heightened efficiency. He also enjoyed the terror it caused amongst the weaker ones. Those he could control.
“Now, this little report tells me that we have lost the subject and he no longer resides on this planet, or is shielded so well our best satellites cannot find him.” He scowled at them one by one, seeking them out looking for a weakness and determined to find it.
“How is it we can track a mouse from fifty miles up with a wart on its head, yet you guys cannot seem to find one ‘Zeke Callaghan’ with an exotic radioactive isotope covering half of his head and infecting his whole body... Bloody Hell! A Boy Scout with a home-made Geiger counter could pick up that much radioactivity!”
The Pattern Ship (The Pattern Universe) Page 6