He had his teams now redoing some of the work that had just been done in hyperspace, to repair the damage. Fuel lines (which had only been patched so as to get them to Instow) were being ripped out and replaced properly, as were fiber optics, data lines and EPS conduits. Tamara was busy building new replicator parts and was rewriting the firmware code for many of the damaged computer systems, to try and make the more ragged bits run more smoothly. She would have to redo it again once they got proper equipment installed, but for now, they needed to work with the “make do” mentality.
The Grania Estelle herself, though, wasn’t going anywhere. Quesh had completely torn the engines to pieces, since most of the equipment couldn’t be salvaged. It was all just going to be cut apart and fed to the replicators for materials. This meant that their fortunes were now tied to this system. For now anyway, the bulk freighter was going nowhere. Maneuvering thrusters were still active for any corrections needed to maintain or change the ship’s orbit, but for now, they were stuck here.
The ship was still buzzing about the pirates. Though, since the ship and her surviving crew were still reeling, wounded from the attack, of course it would be in the forefront of everyone’s minds. The least injured from the attack were being released from sickbay on light duty, which was fine because Quesh needed every hand. No one had any ideas about the raiders, however. Pirates were an unfortunate reality in this day and age, but the Grania Estelle had been more fortunate than most. Up until now, they had not encountered any commerce raiders of any type, though on three occasions they had departed just before a pirate warship arrived, or arrived just after one had left.
Though it had looked fearsome, no one recognized the bird of prey emblem that the raiders had worn on their clothing and armor, or that was emblazoned on their ships. Tamara had run it through her own small database, but had come up empty. Most likely it was only a symbol the leaders of their group had come up with to inspire fear in those they attacked. It was plenty effective. The crew of this ship would never forget it. The Captain had his bridge people going over every scrap of information they had about the attackers: what clothing they wore, their weapons, their armor, tactics, sensor data from the boat bay, internal cameras, Tamara’s fighter’s sensor logs, even the tattoos and body types of the ones that had been killed. It added up to a pretty grim picture, but unfortunately, except for the broad strokes, no one could make out any clear image yet.
But that was something for less pragmatic minds than Quesh Trrgoth. Let the Captain worry about the pirates. And if he needed the help, Quesh was sure that Tamara would chip in. In fact, based on the amount of processing lag he had on his computer systems, especially since a good number of critical systems were offline, Quesh suspected that Tamara was already working on something. Whether it had anything to do with the pirates, he didn’t know. He did know, however, suspect that whatever it was she was doing would be something impressive. She made very big claims and big promises and so far she delivered on every one.
Tamara sat in the bay holding Replicator One, waiting for the latest round of parts to be completed. Once they were done, she could tear the machine and replace some of the more fragile pieces. It probably would be easier and less labor intensive to simply build another replicator altogether, but she didn’t want to be halfway done getting what she needed to suddenly have this replicator burn out. So, she was doing things the hard way for now.
Her special program was running on its own now. She smiled as the last bit of coding she ran began compiling. It was in a point three build stage now, but when it was completed, it would certainly be an asset. Tamara was sure now that while this program would be a great help, she wouldn’t be needing it against the crew of the Grania Estelle. In fact, should she ever decide to leave here, she might leave it behind. A present for the crew.
“So, now I see what you’re doing,” a voice sounded behind her. She whirled in surprise. Ka’Xarian stood in the hatchway, his arms folded over his thorax.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that,” Tamara chided, switching off the screen on her datapad.
The zheen shrugged. “Turning off the datapad isn’t going to hide it from me, Tamara. As I said, I already know what’s going on.”
“You do?” she asked, her chest tightening a bit. The crew might not like what she was doing. And, to be fair, she had initially started working on this project to defend herself against them. “And what do you think?”
“What I have to ask, Tamara, is why you would feel the need to be building your own AI?”
Tamara sighed, feeling snakes slithering around in her stomach. Apparently, in this day and age, there were no AI’s being used. Of course, there was no reason she should feel threatened; an AI could only help this ship, especially once they got critical functions brought up to greater levels. The crew themselves couldn’t keep the fusion bottle in the reactor balanced on their own, not at power levels greater than twenty-five or even thirty percent. Organics simply didn’t have the ability to process and compensate for the many tiny fluctuations that a bottle at significant power levels would require.
And while this was certainly true, Ka’Xarian was still looking at her with suspicion. His antennae were curled down, very tightly, something that wasn’t normal, but Tamara didn’t know how to interpret that piece of zheen body language.
“I plan on rebuilding the computer core and the doing a full tear down and overhaul of the reactor, and when we have the more serious repairs done, I’m going to speak with the captain about putting in an auxiliary reactor.”
Ka’Xarian’s antennae twitched in confusion at the non sequitor. “And what does that have to do with an AI?”
She spoke carefully, as though explaining to someone who should know better, as though she knew everything, but in fact, she was speaking carefully because she was afraid that the zheen, someone she might call a friend, someone she had worked with closely over the last month and a half, might condemn her for this action. She was worried that he might work out the real reason that she was building the AI. Once it was up and running, and fully integrated into the computer network, she would have a real ally among the crew. Tamara had already installed subroutines integral to its personality matrix that would identify her as a friend and someone who the AI would want to protect.
Her coding skills were a bit rusty, she’d been more of an administrator than a floor supervisor back at the shipyard, but she had used her spare time to try and her skills sharp and up to date. She’d also managed, thankfully, to bring with her a number of compressed files, a large bag of tricks, cheat sheets, preparation coding for a number of computer projects, and the outline frame coding for a class one smart AI. All that, plus some very time-consuming and diligent work on her part now here on the Grania Estelle, meant that she now had the workings of that AI nearly completed.
AIs came in two types, dumb and smart. Dumb AIs were intolerant, focused, made for very specific tasks. While they had the ability to learn, it was only within the scope of their particular specialty. There were security AIs, merchant AIs, factory AIs, ones that worked on stations and ships, even ones that worked as interpreters for diplomats. Dumb AIs were plentiful, they helped keep the Republic running smoothly.
Smart AIs were rare. They could evolve and grow, just like organics could. The smart AI that was soon to be born would be a fledgling, the equivalent of a child. It would need to be nurtured, educated and challenged, but it would grow and expand its coding. It would become a person, a being in its own right. Back in her day, AI’s were considered people. Artificial, with silicon and electrons running through their veins, but they were still people, nonetheless. They could hold officers’ commissions in the armed forces, run factories, they could work in engineering positions, even in the field of medicine; working in positions all normally reserved for “real” people. Tamara imagined, however, that people in this new dark age probably had less tolerance for artificial life forms such as AI, which meant even havi
ng one was a risk.
“Because the upgrades that we are going to make to the ship require more interconnectivity than we currently have.” She licked her lips, hoping Ka’Xarian wouldn’t detect her nervousness. “And a few of the systems, like the reactor, cannot truly be run at optimal efficiency without an AI.”
The zheen stared in her direction for a long moment, his antennae moving in back and forth in very small circles, as though he was tasting the air, as though her lies somehow had more flavor than the half-truths she was spinning. “If that’s the case, why do you look and act so guilty, Tamara?”
She laughed, spinning this yarn as fast as she good. “I didn’t want to alarm anyone. In my time,” and her voice wavered a bit at that phrase, “AIs were quite common. But by the state of this ship and judging from the attitudes of the crew when I had asked them about those sorts of things, the reception I got wasn’t exactly warm.” That last part was a complete lie. She hadn’t spoken at all about AIs, to anyone, for fear they might think she was building one and would try to stop her.
The zheen stood there, continuing to watch her, not speaking for a while longer. “Do you need any help?” he asked, surprising her.
She blinked. That certainly wasn’t the response she was expecting. “You approve?”
Ka’Xarian buzzed at her, laughing. “Of course I approve! Having an AI could make things a great deal simpler aboard ship. We could have crewmen doing actual work rather than doing things the AI could do for us.”
Tamara risked a tentative smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to be happy about this.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he replied, coming in and sitting down on the bench next to her. “This is wonderful! Do you really think the old girl can handle an AI?”
She nodded. “Right now, no. But if we do some serious upgrades, most specifically to the computer core and data transfer system, I think she will be able to support an AI.”
The zheen glanced at her, a timid expression she’d never seen on his insectoid face before. “May I see the coding?”
Tamara gave him one more wary look, then nodded, picking up the data pad. “How did you even know I was working on this?” she asked as she brought up the link to the program. It was running in the background on every spare scrap of the ship’s computer core she could find. The next order of business once the replicator was overhauled was to get a few more banks of processors out.
The zheen hummed another chuckle. “It wasn’t that hard, actually. I noted that despite your impressive amount of cleanup and repair of our software systems that the computers were running even slower than usual, especially since the engines were completely offline. I traced through the network and found your code. I recognized a few pieces of your programming style and pieced some things together. I’m not the programmer that you are, but I recognized a few things.”
Tamara nodded in acknowledgement. She continued bringing up the programming. “How many people have you told?” she asked, keeping her voice as steady as she could. She was prepared for the worst; that the Captain would be calling upon her to explain herself.
But Ka’Xarian shook his head. “I’m your friend, Tamara,” he said simply. “And while I don’t think a good portion of the crew is quite ready for these kinds of new and radical ideas,” his antennae flicked in amusement, “I am. But I haven’t told anyone yet. I think that once the AI is up and running in the ship’s systems, we can tell them then.” He peered at the coding that she showed him and his compound eyes lit up. “How long until it is complete?”
Tamara laughed. “Complete? Never. Operational? We need the additional computing power first. After that? Probably about a month or so. Then this new AI will be ready to make her appearance.”
“Her? It’s female?” Ka’Xarian sounded amused.
She looked at him in surprise. “Well yes! Why is that a surprise? I plan on integrating her into the Grania Estelle’s computer core. Why should it therefore be a surprise that the AI is female?”
He shrugged. “Never really thought about it, to be honest. Up until a little while ago, I didn’t think about AIs. Though I had been thinking that we would need more help.”
She chuckled, looking up as the replicator beeped, signaling that this round of parts was completed and needed the trays removed so it could continue onto the next round. “Just because the ship would have an AI doesn’t mean that we wouldn’t need more help. AIs can only do so much.”
“Right,” the zheen said, continuing to stare at the scrolling code. He seemed mesmerized.
“Xar?” she asked, looking back at him. He didn’t answer. “Xar!”
“What?” he brought his head up so his face was level with hers. It wasn’t necessary for him to do so, with his compound eyes, he could nearly turned completely away from her and still be looking at her.
“I’m going to need the datapad back. I have to go and work on the replicator now.”
“It’s still got another tray of parts to go,” Xar pointed out.
“Yes, but I need the assistant chief engineer to return to work so that we can keep the repairs on the ship moving forward. I know the AI coding is very satisfying to watch, but we both need to get back to work.”
He buzzed in annoyance at her, but he rose from the bench. “All right, I’m going. Let me know when you’re going to tear down the replicator. I’ll come up and help.”
She smiled at him. “Trying to steal a girl’s secrets?”
His antennae flicked in amusement. “Well of course. How’s a young male supposed to get ahead in the world if he doesn’t?” With that he turned and walked out.
“This is simply amazing,” the Captain muttered for perhaps the tenth time.
The tearing down and rebuilding of replicator one was going smoothly. As Tamara had suspected, a number of the components were worn-down, and more than a quarter of the internal circuitry was on its last legs. The nanite containment unit was fine, thankfully, she built a new storage container and transferred the nanites over, not wanting to take any chances. The replicator nanites were programmed to destroy themselves if they escaped from the containment unit, but it was always better to err on the side of caution.
Tamara laughed. “I know this is something that you’re not used to seeing or really using, but for me, this is a commonplace thing. I’m actually a little disappointed that we don’t have more.”
“More? You said when you were done that we would have two industrial replicators.”
“Yes, I did. This one and then build a second one to replace the one the raiders stole.” She grimaced. “And to answer your question, I’m used to working at a shipyard. It’s been a year, as far as my body can tell, but the shipyard I was at? It had sixteen class six industrial replicators, a dozen class fives, and two class sevens. I had a crew of about eighteen thousand, a dozen AIs, all well trained and motivated. We could completely tear down and rebuild the Grania Estelle in thirty-six hours, going full tilt.” Both the Captain and Ka’Xarian were stunned into silence. It seemed like a crazy dream, industry on that scale.
“You miss it, don’t you?” the Captain asked after a long moment.
She didn’t stop working. She didn’t answer, but that alone confirmed his question. Finally, she did. “Of course there are things that I miss. I miss my job. I miss the building. I miss the structure and the certainty that I was doing what I should be doing. I had a purpose. I had friends and colleagues.” Tamara took a long, shaky breath, but didn’t elaborate further.
“And then that all went away.” Ka’Xarian’s voice was kind.
She glared at them both. “Why are you both pushing me about this? I’m sure you’ve had happier times in your past.”
The zheen’s antennae flatted to his head in contrition, the Captain only nodded. Tamara continued what she was doing, Xar handing her things as she requested them. Finally, the Captain got up and started to walk away. Glancing back one more time at the machine, he commented, “Truly amazing,” and then
left the compartment.
Repairs continued apace, and within two weeks, engine one, two and three were completely rebuilt and online. A good deal of the hull repairs had been started; that would be a long process, one that would probably take months to complete. Right now, the Grania Estelle could move again, but the hyperdrive, shields and sensors would need to be repaired before the ship could leave the system. However, with the third engine up and running, the ship now had half again as much sublight thrust as it had before, which meant that in-system trips would take less time. That made the Captain very happy to hear, though hearing that there was a great deal of work yet to be done on the hull before they would be able to utilize that extra engine power, tempered that happiness.
The injured were recovering as well. Physically, at any rate. Their scars from the raid would linger for a long time, possibly forever. There wasn’t really any sure fire way to heal that sort of injury, but the crew were a tight knit group. They had all served together for at least a year, flown many light years together. So they mourned together and they gathered together to try and work their way through the pain.
But one of many problems was the food situation. Cookie’s pantries were not replenishing and the authorities on the planet were still refusing to allow them to land. Apparently a very large freighter hanging around in orbit was making the locals very nervous. The Captain had tried to explain numerous times that they were not part of a pirate force, they were an independent trading vessel. But they refused to listen.
Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 Page 15