The ones nearest Ferris actually cringed at the mention of the subjects name and condition.
Jansson, an older nuclear physicist whose appearance echoed that of an iconic picture of Einstein, had had enough of Ferris’s annoying bombastic nature and leaned forward, fingers splaying on the table. He wasn’t as tough as he made out, but he was by nature a manipulating weasel and could also play to the audience, in this case his fellow scientists.
“Ferris, you’re forgetting that it was actually you that lost him in the first place, not us.” He pointed at Ferris.
“If it had not been for the ingenuity of this team here,” he magnanimously indicated with outstretched arms the other scientists sitting around the table, “you would have never found him again and so be unable to continue the research without the subject being aware.”
“Now,” Jannson sure of his ground began to warm to his subject, “we have had access for the last three days to all of the satellites, drones and high flying Sputniks your military Junta has at its disposal and so far not a squeak of Ferrazite or Ferrazine has been detected.
Yet...” he hastened to add, “we can, and do know the position of every single radioactive substance that has been refined in the last twenty years down to the exact centimetre.”
Ferris, interrupted him not happy with this twerp who was ‘his’ puppet, grandstanding to the others in front of him.
“Yes! Yes! Jansson I read all that, but you cannot find this one man with a metal plate on his head. How is it you lot with all of your superior intellect are unable to track him down?”
Jannson now glowered at Ferris with a warning in his demeanour that everyone in the room now picked up on, including Ferris.
“I believe the reason we cannot pick it up on the scopes is simply because it no longer exists.”
Ferris tore into him.
“But, that is simply preposterous, you old goat! How can a physical substance that can be monitored from anywhere in space suddenly no longer exist. It has to be the Russians, or the Chinese. “
Jannson responded in their defence, not best pleased at the lack of respect being shown to him by this ‘Hooyah Marine’ in front of his team.
“Ferris, we have tested the readability of this isotope down to a thousand metres under Cheyenne. We are, or were, the only people with this metal in our possession. Nobody outside this room was even aware of its existence.”
Ferris jumped on him.
“Yet your report here states, and I quote:
‘Subject Z was supine for a period of 7 hours and 42 minutes inside the derelict location in Queens.
At precisely 03:40hrs. subject Z disappeared. The atomic sensors registered an absence of Ferrazite, or the plasma modified Ferrazine compound anywhere on the planet.
On entering the premises at 04:00hrs. (an extraordinary fast response) there was no longer any physical trace of subject Z nor the isotope, despite the door having being bolted from the inside and there being no windows, or other exits evident.’
“Just how does a man with a radioactive head disappear from inside a locked room?” he demanded.
Jannson shook his head as he looked dejectedly at his hands spread on the table and replied,
“I don’t know Ferris, I really don’t have any idea.”
Ferris cooled, he had pushed them as far as he could.
“Gentlemen, this isn’t a setback we can survive. The whole programme of GAMES (Genetically Altered Military Elite Soldiers) is centred around the growth of Ferrazine. Now the only known piece of Ferrazite in this solar system has upped and disappeared. The small quantities of active Ferrazine we have are not enough to complete the project. Simply put, if we don’t get Callaghan back with that radioactive blood of his, this project is dead in the water.”
He stood up, adjusted his uniform jacket and marched out of the room leaving the fourteen scientists to wonder what to do next.
It was a diminutive fellow who sat in the corner and asked the question nobody else had considered.
“What if the Ferrazite is still here, just isn’t where we expect it to be?” Goeth asked.
Jannson went to rebuke him.
“Well, of course, it isn’t where...”
The impact of the statement suddenly sank into them like a stone in clear water. Goeth had their attention.
“We need to redirect the radiation monitors.”
“Where to?” someone asked.
Goeth smiled, it wasn’t pretty.
“Space, gentlemen, Space. The Ferrazite has to be in Space!”
Jannson laughed.
“You’re mad, Goeth, bonkers! How on earth can you believe it has gone into space, it is impossible! We would have detected it moving to a launch site, even detected the launch itself. How could it be done without us even getting a glimpse?”
Goeth simply smiled.
“When all else, but the impossible exists, then perhaps therein lies the answer.”
***
Zirkos awoke, calm and completely aware of his new physical body lying on his plinth. It was only the second time he had ever been re-made, and the first time he had made changes to his body. It would be an interesting experience for him to be a jenari-human hybrid.
He sat up quickly getting used to his physical body.
When he was ready he put his feet on the floor and checking himself over he found that he liked how he felt and what he saw. The silvery skin was impressive, he had taken the idea from one of their old movies. He stood getting used to the feeling of height from his new perspective.
He wore a dark grey tunic which, contrasted his silvery skin perfectly. His age in this reconstitution appeared to be middle to late thirties and the human aspects of his outward appearance made him look dignified and slightly haughty. His height had increased somewhat so that when contact was made with the humans he could look the part of an alien dignitary.
Research he had conducted had left him well prepared for all eventualities. He was confident that the differences he showed in overall physique were enough for the humans to see him as a close relative of humans. An aspect apparently extremely important, judging by all the films he had seen where ‘friendly’ aliens were portrayed.
Walking towards the bare grey wall he verbally commanded it to open, whereby the wall section representing a doorway dissolved allowing him to proceed unhindered out of the sleeping area. He staggered slightly; his coordination not quite settled in.
As he expected, he found himself standing in his new Control Centre deliberately placed right by his cabin for instant access. It was much larger than he remembered, the differences more noticeable as a physical being and whilst he imagined other people in the room he also judged that it was now overly large for those needs. Mentally, he noted to design a slightly slimmer version for the next build.
There were four consoles laid out in pairs, any two of which would be sufficient to control the ship’s activities as well as the new Weapons Array. Ship would create any visual, or sensor displays on the blank walls, or in hologram-mode whenever the need arose.
The controls were there for manual over-ride. The whole room could be emptied in minutes by the nano-bots resulting in a very efficient use of space. Modifications could be made to the consoles, dismantled by the nanobots, updated and restored again within minutes.
“Ship, Status,” Zirkos commanded.
Ship responded immediately.
“All systems operating at optimum.
The Human, is named Zeke. It is healthy, asking questions, showing signs of restlessness. It is otherwise taking a benign approach to enforced hospitality. It wants answers.
There are no current threats. I am detecting increased communication to and from the satellites controlled by the landmass named, USA. They are currently realigning satellite detection systems.”
“Purpose of realignment?”
“As yet, unknown,” Ship responded.
“Monitor and report any threat.”
> “Acknowledged.”
“Ship, note speech modifier ‘It’ is a ‘He’, the male of the human species, you should address it as such. ‘It’ is reserved for non-sexual entities such as ‘artificial Intelligences’ like yourself,” Zirkos explained laughing as he did so, the A.I. would not get the humour, but then would not be offended either.
“Acknowledged.”
Zirkos didn’t need to know where the Human was being kept, he walked up to the wall commanded it to open and walked into the cubicle area which practically echoed his.
The Human who was sitting at a console Ship must have installed for him, leaped up from his chair and came into a defensive position. Recognising it for what it was, ‘the well documented fight or flight human imprinted reflex’, Zirkos just stood still ensuring he posed no threat once arriving in the room.
Standing quietly, he waited for the Human to come to terms with what he belatedly realised was an invasion of personal territory. He decided to make attempts to rectify what was, in effect, his first error.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you,” he offered putting out his hands in the human action of non-violence in an attempt to bring the human to a receptive state as soon as possible.
“Who are you? Are you ‘the Maker’ Ship refers to?” the human asked.
“Yes, my name is Zirkos and yours, if Ship has it correctly, is Zeke, is it not?”
“Err’m, yes. Zeke Callaghan, pleased to meet you Zirkos,” Zeke smiled as he put out his right hand whilst covering himself with his left. Zirkos clasped it, realising as he did so that it was his first physical contact with another being for longer than he could remember.
“Ship, produce ship apparel for Zeke,” Zirkos commanded.
“Acknowledged,” Ship responded.
They both eyed each other up for a moment while getting the measure of the other. Humans were the same as his race, look you in the eye, feel the strength of purpose.
“Please!” Zirkos gestured towards Zeke’s plinth.
Zeke turned to see a dark grey garment and light shoes had materialised on top of his bedding. He walked over and began dressing.
He worked out how to put it on, it was in two pieces, trousers and a jacket style which as soon as he was clothed became a single piece of clothing. It felt as if it was adjusting to him as he wore them. He shuddered as if something had crawled over his spine. The material felt strange, he realised that it and the carpet had that same feeling and deduced that it was a slightly metallic feel, comfortable, but inorganic.
“Nanobots,” Zirkos offered by way of explanation as Zeke looked curiously as the clothes knitted seamlessly.
“Ahh! so that’s how it’s all done,” Zeke responded gesturing to all the furniture placements around the room.
Zirkos nodded, impressed at the humans immediate acceptance of a logical explanation without attempting to deny its possibility.
Zeke sat and put on the shoes, light and comfortable, which fitted him perfectly. Again, as he sealed the openings they joined to the bottom of his leggings and became one with the rest of his clothes. They weren’t figure hugging he was pleased to note, there was considerable play in the leggings and upper arms and shoulders. The material was light, but he couldn’t place it, it definitely felt alien.
“Boy! its nice to be wearing clothes again even if they are weird.”
He felt in the empty pockets and noted that his Host was looking at him expectantly.
“Zeke, we must discuss your situation.”
“Okay, I would appreciate the chance to get some clarification on that too,” Zeke responded enthusiastically.
“Ship, another chair?” Zirkos indicating where he wanted it.
Zeke just looked on, mouth open in amazement as the chair materialised as though it were a grey liquid bubbling up from the ends into a frame, then a seat. Zeke believed he could almost see the nano-bots working, but of course that was impossible. He was actually seeing the raw particles being atom bonded together as Ship materialised them where it wanted them.
The new chair was suddenly built at the table and Zirkos gestured to Zeke to sit in his earlier seat as Zirkos sat, a little judiciously, being as yet a little unfamiliar with both his new body and the chair design that Ship had implemented for the human frame.
He resumed speaking as they sat.
“It is important for you to know that had I left you where you were, you would have died. The method of your recovery is currently well beyond your science.”
He paused between each sentence to give Zeke an opportunity to digest what he was telling him.
“The important part is that we were able to achieve two things.
Firstly, at the point you were recovered you were suffering imminent mass organ failure, I think you call it, which forced us to intervene, keep you alive and repair the damage to your human body.
Secondly, we removed most of the metal that was killing you as it leeched poison into your bloodstream. You will not have any further issues with it, your body should already be adjusting its removal. We also discovered other instances of metal, mostly benign I think you call it, but we removed that as well.”
Zeke watched as Zirkos steepled his hands. They looked strangely out of place. He wasn’t sure why, only that the location, the technology, the alienness of it, seemed out of kilter with the human mannerism that the alien was so obviously trying to employ. He politely ignored the action and concentrated instead on the content of the Alien’s explanation.
Zirkos was, of course, attempting human mannerisms and was watching Zeke closely to see the minute changes in his responses. He knew that to accomplish what he needed to, he would need to understand these people better than they did themselves. Zeke was, in fact, a test subject although Zirkos was genuinely interested in the human. He still didn’t yet understand fully why.
“So,” Zeke responded, “I can thank you now then. I have to tell you I am so happy to be rid off that damned plate and I'm not sure how you put me back together, but I am indebted to you. Whatever you want from me in return I will gladly pay as living just one day without the pain is so blissful the price would be worth it.”
“Ah, Zeke I am impressed with your gratitude, but let me explain something. It might make you think a little differently of me.”
“Pheson Alacite is a very rare silicon type metal alloy. It is so rare you do not actually have any on your planet. It was however essential to obtain some to complete the repairs to Ship. It was with great surprise then, that we actually detected not only the alloy, but more of it than we needed. We had only one problem.”
Zeke interrupted.
“You’re saying that the plate in my head was what, ‘Feez-un Alakite’?” He tried to get the pronunciation correct. It was different to the name Ferrazite, but interestingly not that different.
“Yes, precisely. This left us with a problem as to how to recover that which we wanted... needed.
Now to be perfectly honest with you, I think that’s the expression, isn’t it, when I want to tell you how things really are?”
Zeke nodded.
“The A.I. would probably have collected the metal without permission if I had not been part of the processing network holding it to account and forcing it to work within protocols and routines. In which case your body would have been relieved of the metal crudely...”
“Oh, so Ship would have murdered me, then?” Zeke said glumly.
Zirkos could discern disappointment on Zeke’s face and had suspicions of its basis.
“Oh! No, in fact Ship is more related to a sentient being than the A.I. that was collating the components. That was the Pod A.I. which was of a lower level of sentience. A ‘Three’, in fact where Ship is a ‘Seven’. A Ten being fully sentient.”
“Ship, what would you have done?” Zirkos asked of the A.I. knowing full well what its answer would be, but hoping to restore confidence in it with the human, Zeke.
“In the absence of the Ma
ker I would have instructed the Pod to return and we would have searched this solar system for sufficient inert Pheson Alacite before proceeding to the next system.”
“So, Zeke would have been left unharmed?”
“Affirmative, with exceptions.”
“And what would those have been Ship?” Zirkos asked.
“Had the human died naturally, then the Alacite would have been recovered immediately.”
“Clarification required Ship,” Zirkos commanded.
“Based on the probability of finding sufficient Alacite in this system taking between one hundred and one hundred and fifty periods. Within this time the Human would have expired and it would therefore be a high probability that Pod would have been instructed to remain until the event occurred, or until an alternate source was found,” Ship explained.
“Ship, you are an A.I. with honour.” Zeke responded suitably impressed with the A.I.’s compassion.
“Human, it is purely the math of probability and, as the Maker has explained, I am a ‘seven’ which means I am able to consider such probabilities and compare outcomes. Had things been different, then I cannot state categorically that the result would be the same,” Ship stated matter of factly.
Zirkos smiled. He wondered if he should tell the human that the Ship was a one-off A.I. based on his own intellect. He decided to keep that for another time.
“Fair enough, I think...” Zeke admitted.
A little down still, but his faith appeared to remain intact. Ship had maintained this humans respect which was an important aspect in dealing with this species, Zirkos had discovered.
“So, to the point of this,” Zirkos pulled them back.
“In retrieving you at the point of your death, we were doing no more, and no less than what Ship would have done without my presence. You would have lived your term according to your physical expiry date and all would have been well. “
The Pattern Ship (The Pattern Universe) Page 7