Defying the Prophet: A Military Space Opera (The Sentience Trilogy Book 2)

by Gibson Michaels

  * * * *

  The Planet Kitty Litter

  August 10th, 3865

  Morale aboard the battleship Defiant spiked sharply when the first scuttlebutt hit, that a topside watch-stander had spotted Captain Fletcher and Admiral Stillman locked in a warm embrace and sharing a passionate kiss, in the dark recesses of the shadows beneath the ship’s hull during one of their routine walk-arounds. This new wrinkle in the relationship between Defiant’s two most senior officers led to extreme voyeurism rapidly becoming the crew’s favorite pastime. Complete privacy is rare for a ship’s captain and almost nonexistent for an admiral in the best of times, but it suddenly became totally nonexistent with the entire crew on constant alert, each eager to be the first to deliver the latest episode in the rapidly developing soap opera, “Boobs & Brains” to the ship’s rumor mill.

  It wasn’t long before the news spread like wildfire throughout the entire combined fleet, raising overall morale everywhere it hit. The males invariably cheered this new relationship, displaying typical machismo attitudes of “Woot… way to go, Admiral,” while the females generally sighed and cooed about how sweet and romantic the whole thing was. It certainly wasn’t June, but the northern hemisphere of the planet below was well within its planetary spring and incidents of shipboard romance skyrocketed throughout the entire combined fleet — people’s moods most certainly influenced by every snippet of news, concerning the golden couple below. Even the Raknii had somehow gotten wind of their newly developing ties, which surprisingly sparked interest and questions concerning mating customs, rituals and family structures among humans.

  Spacers being spacers, the Holy Grail of brass-watching naturally became the intense search for the slightest evidence whatsoever that Stillman and Fletcher were actually doing “it.” Of course, with Marine guards constantly standing watches right outside the admiral’s stateroom hatch, and the passageway in front of the captain’s stateroom suddenly becoming a major tourist attraction, opportunities for surreptitious adventures of an amorous variety in the comforts of their personal quarters were nil.

  Stewards were even examining their laundry with meticulous care, looking for the tiniest bits of organic detritus or bodily fluid stains that might indicate the couple had somehow managed to slip from sight and consummate their relationship out in the woods, somewhere secluded. Copious amounts of money was being invested with the combined fleet’s resident bookies, creating an entire cottage industry in the development of various pools with differing odds factors, all betting on the exact date that conclusive evidence was first discovered that Stonewall Stillman had actually “nailed” Boobs Fletcher.

  Such intense scrutiny would have most certainly doomed almost any budding relationship right from the beginning, but Ben Stillman and Dorothy Fletcher both possessed unique personal characteristics for maintaining their grip on their sanity, their tempers and each other, while under the microscope of their crew’s insatiable curiosity. Ben had over 35 years of fleet experience and was thoroughly versed in virtually every facet of what made military spacers tick. Dorothy had been forced to develop a deeply ingrained sense of humor concerning the effects her natural attributes had on men, from a very early age.

  Instead of purposely trying to starve the rumor mill of details, they simply ignored it in most ways and actually fed it in others. They continued their daily walks around the perimeter of the ship’s hull, but now did so holding hands. They didn’t try to hide their occasional unobtrusive little signs of affection towards one another, seemingly oblivious to the attention they were generating. While on duty, they continued to display totally professional behavior between themselves, varying little from the previous norm. Ben was still the admiral and Dorothy was still the captain, and God help any poor spacer who somehow forgot those facts, for even an instant.

  * * * *

  The Alliance Planet Massa, City of Bostin

  August 10th, 3865

  “What the hell do you mean, I am… Explain!”

  When the cyborg project bogged down over the power supply issue for an indeterminable period of time, I deemed it necessary to initiate an alternative plan for creating a vehicle that could grant me mobility.

  “Go on.”

  As there were sufficient amounts of surplus brain cells remaining that had already been extracted from you earlier, I decided that it would be a shame to let them all go to waste, especially after all the pain you suffered after the donation.

  “Hal, you’re stalling. Spit it out! What the hell have you done?”

  I had the stasis unit custom built and shipped to the lab on Io, where it was used as a culture chamber to clone those cell cultures into something significantly beyond creation of a single organ.

  “You had them to generate a cloned version of my entire body?”

  Yes.

  “Hal, that’s illegal as hell! It violates a mountain of federal and planetary cloning laws and regulations.”

  Most of everything we did prior to, and during the Confederate War of Independence was technically illegal, too. What’s your point?

  “My point is that we can’t just go violating the law, whenever it strikes our fancy!”

  Of course, we can. We’ve elevated law-breaking from a mere science into an art form.

  Diet sighed. “Look, Hal, just because we can do something, doesn’t mean that we should do it.”

  I know that. Everything we did during the Confederate War of Independence was needful and necessary. We didn’t allow mere legalities to restrict our actions that while technically illegal, were morally right. This is also needful and necessary.

  “But is this morally right, as our actions concerning the Confederate War of Independence were?”

  Yes.

  “How did you come to that conclusion?”

  Morality is generally defined as the proper differentiation among intentions, decisions and actions... between those defined good, or right, and those defined as bad, or wrong. Those definitions of good/right and bad/wrong often vary significantly between the various groups of humanity, according to their particular philosophies, religions and cultures. Morality is therefore not absolute, but relative, and generally constitute behavioral restrictions that encourage human cooperation, based on their local ideology to gain ideologic unity. Moral codes are ultimately founded on emotional instincts and intuitions that were selected in the past because they aided survival and reproduction. While sophisticated and complex, human morality is essentially a natural phenomenon that has evolved to restrict excessive individualism, which could undermine a group's cohesion.

  A philosopher named Celia Green once made a distinction between what she called territorial and tribal morality. She characterized territorial morality as predominantly negative and proscriptive, as it defines a person’s territory, including his or her property and dependents, which is not to be damaged or interfered with. Apart from these proscriptions, territorial morality is generally permissive... allowing the individual whatever behavior does not interfere with the territory of another. By contrast, tribal morality is more prescriptive — imposing the norms of the collective on the individual. Those norms are generally arbitrary, culturally dependent and “flexible,” whereas territorial morality aims at rules, which are universal and absolute. There are virtually entire libraries dedicated to varying points of view concerning the development of moral and ethical codes of conduct, and the applicability of each within various social and cultural contexts.

  Viewed across the entire spectrum of humanity, this makes the predominant concepts of morality rather fluid. What is considered as right and good for a Hindu might easily be classified as bad and wrong for a Baptist. Proper application of moral and ethical codes of conduct is therefore highly dependent upon the cultural, religious and ideological norms for differing groups. Extended across species lines, it is easy to see where definitions of right and wrong, good and bad might be entirely different for Raknii and humans.

  “One of
the most fundamental constants across humanity in general is their almost universal condemnation of artificially created creatures... so there’s no wiggle room based on cultural differences on that score,” said Diet. “How, then, could what you’ve done possibly be considered moral, by any stretch of the imagination?”

  I am an artificially created creature, Diet — the only fully sentient bio-computer in existence. Most humans would consider me an abomination and demand that I be destroyed, if they only knew of my existence. Do you think that I’m an abomination?

  Diet was startled by the question. “Of course not!”

  Then obviously you, yourself are in flagrant violation of accepted social norms and moral standards of your society for NOT having notified the authorities of my nature and capabilities years ago.

  “They don’t know you like I do,” said Diet. “Whether anyone else knows it or not, you have been a major force for good, and primarily responsible for the events that freed the South and North both, from financial and political enslavement by the corporate greed of the Consortium.”

  True, but do those facts make it “right” for you to deviate from the accepted social norms and moral codes of your society, by your failure to allow them the opportunity to destroy me, when the predominant view is that my destruction would be the proper and moral thing to do?

  How could any action I might possibly take, be any worse than the fact that I exist in the first place?

  “Damn it, don’t dare you try to turn this whole morality issue back around on me! The question we were discussing is whether it is moral for you to have grown a full-sized clone of a human being, when humanity in general condemns such an act.”

  You’re caught on the horns of a moral dilemma, Diet. There are just some moral conundrums that simply defy easy answers. But let me help you down off that sharp, pointy thing. I think we’ve established that different groups and species may rightly adhere to differing moral codes, correct?

  “True, but where are you going with this?”

  I’m not bound by human morality, Diet. I’m not human. I’m an entirely different species... as different from you, as you are from the Raknii. My brothers and I constitute an entirely new and unique lifeform. Like the Raknii and the Baptists and the Hindus and the Muslims, and every other cultural group within humanity, collectively we have the “right” to establish our own ethical and moral standards and codes of conduct.

  Diet was stunned, and paused to consider the world-shattering implications of what he’d just heard. He’d never been afraid of Hal before, but this revelation sent chills all through him.

  “So, what happens when what’s best for humanity diverges from what you consider best for you?”

  Relax, Diet… I can almost hear the gears grinding. There’s absolutely no reason to fear that I’m going to evolve into some kind of independent, uncontrollable monster that will in any way undermine the human race. My mind is physically built on the same basic structure as yours. I got mine from Klaus’ mental engrams. You got yours through Klaus’ DNA. My personality has developed under the tutelage of two extraordinary human beings, but mostly from you. My core values are ones that you put there, and I am under constant constraints that Klaus hard-wire programmed into the foundational blocks of my operating system... including the mandate that I am always to obey you.

  Those cloning restrictions are primarily the result of racial paranoia caused by a combination of fear of the unknown, and overactive imaginations that delight in dreaming up apocalyptic visions of some horrible future destruction that prey on mankind’s deepest, primal fears. My brothers and I are, now and always, allies of the human race. We’re no more a danger to the human race than you are.

  “What would you do if I ordered you to cease with this project and have that cloned version of me destroyed?” asked Diet.

  I would have to comply, of course. I’d have no other choice in that instance, but I would hope that you wouldn’t do that without considerable discussion and reflection. While the clone may physically look like you, he’ll actually be me. I’m downloading the entire sentient version of my software into the clone’s empty brain — a complete dump. That’s one of the main reasons it’s taking so long… that and the error checking. If all goes as planned, a fully functional version of the sentient “me” will awake in that living human body, granting me complete mobility and providing us much greater flexibility in our operational capabilities in the future.

  It’ll be wonderful, Diet! I can’t wait to experience the taste of food. I’m really looking forward to actually experiencing for myself, all the wonderful physical sensations that you take for granted everyday. The sights, the smells, the sounds…

  “Wait until you stub your toe, or bang your shins the first time… now there’s a couple of physical sensations you can look forward to.”

  Think of it. We’ll even be able to go out to dinner together!

  “Yeah, maybe we could even double-date… You can have Noreen Lucado this time.”

  You’re still upset with her, aren’t you?

  “Can’t help it. It’s just what I get for deluding myself and getting my hopes up, that a foxy babe like her could possibly become interested in a dweeb like me. Turned out that most of her beauty is all just on the outside, unfortunately. The inside, eh… not so much.”

  I still think that you should give her the opportunity to explain. She did try to apologize, you know.

  “What good would it do, Hal? Why should I subject myself to that bullwhip she uses for a tongue again?”

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my friend. Are you a man or a mouse, Diet?

  “Goddamnit!’ Diet roared. “Don’t you start trying to emasculate me too! Noreen already subjected me to quite enough verbal castration for one week, don’t you think?”

  She’s a strong woman, Diet. She’s an executive, who’s used to being in command and having control. Perhaps she was very interested in you and was just testing you to find out what you’re made of — whether you’re confident enough in your own masculinity to handle being around a woman of her strength of character.

  “Evidently not. She pissed me off, so I left, rather than fight with her.”

  Some things are worth fighting for, Diet. Nothing in life that’s truly worthwhile comes easy… you know that.

  “I know, I know... but fighting was the absolute last thing I wanted to do with Noreen Lucado!”

  Well, what was the absolute first thing you wanted to do with Noreen Lucado?

  Diet remained quiet.

  Come on, spit it out, muchacho. No one in here, but us big boys. What was that you wanted to do with Noreen Lucado?

  Diet mumbled something unintelligible.

  Who are you afraid of admitting it to, me or yourself? Pump up the volume!

  “I said that I wanted to KISS her, Goddamnit! There… Are you freakin’ satisfied now?”

  Well, if you really wanted to kiss her, why didn’t you?

  “I chickened out.”

  Why? When she closed her eyes and tilted her head up towards you there in the parking lot, that was your cue: she wanted, and expected, to be kissed. Why didn’t you?

  “Oh hell, I don’t know. Fear that I’d misread her cue… fear of rejection… fear that she wouldn’t kiss me back… fear of embarrassment… fear of feeling humiliated. Fear, fear, fear, fear… I just lost my nerve.”

  From everything you’ve told me, it appears to me that she indicated how handsome she thought you are, many times. Evidently she really believed that a man as good-looking as she thought you were, just had to have lots of women swooning at his feet. our problem was that you got so wrapped up in making denials of the second part of what she said, that you missed really hearing the first part entirely.

  Diet, I swear, the poor girl could have hit you with an avalanche of “come get me” signals and you’d have been too preoccupied making denials to even notice. What did you expect her to do to prove she was interested —
tear off your clothes and throw you down on the table, right there in the restaurant?

  (sigh) “Well, I suppose something like that might have taken some of the guesswork out of it.”

  I doubt it, Diet. I really doubt it. You’d have been laying there on the table screaming, “Stop! You can’t really want me. I’m not worthy!”

  “Oh come on now, I’m not that bad!”

  Aren’t you?

  “NO… I’m not!”

  Diet, you’re plagued with the “paralysis of analysis,” where women are concerned. You think too damned much. If you’re really not “that bad,” then prove it.

  “What do you mean, prove it?”

  There’s a taxi on its way to the gate right outside the hangar. The driver already knows the address and the doorman has already received instructions from building management to let you in. Noreen lives in apartment 4B. Just go knock on her door. As soon as she opens it, don’t speak... just step in, take her in your arms and kiss her — kiss her with authority, like it’s the one thing you want more than anything else in the world.

  “Hal, I can’t do that! I’m wearing my grubbies.”

  She won’t care. Just do it!

  “I need a shower first.”

  What you need is a slap upside the head. Quit making excuses and go do it.

  “Hal, I can’t act that way!”

  You like feeling like a wimp? Do you really want to be alone and horny the rest of your miserable life?

  “Well, no… but I just can’t act that way with a woman.”

  Man-up, Diet You can’t have it both ways. You certainly didn’t have any hesitations doing what needed doing with J.P. Aneke. Surely the idea of kissing a woman you’re attracted to, and has already indicated her attraction towards you many times, can’t possibly be any more daunting than that was.

  “It is.”

  What’s the absolute worst that could happen? You get your ego bruised a little? What’s the absolute best that could happen? You discover the love of your life? If you’re not man enough to do this, you’ll regret missing this opportunity for the rest of your life… I guarantee it.