Cole frowned, stepping around Forester’s unconscious body to check on Emmerich. “You’re gonna have to be a little less vague, Cain,” he said as he knelt down to check her for a pulse. It was there, though it was weak. There was a deep seared groove along her temple where the plasma burst had glanced off her skull. It was a bad wound but one from which she should recover. If we don’t burn up first. “There’s been way too much action since I first boarded this ship.”
Cole looked at Lin. “Is this really happening?” He shook his head and removed his jacket, tossing it aside. He motioned Lin over to assist him with Emmerich. “We need to move her to the infirmary. Now.”
“What about Forester?”
Cole shrugged. “We’ll just have to hope he doesn’t wake up.” He hooked his arms under Emmerich’s armpits while Lin grabbed her legs. Together they managed the lift without much difficulty, but the long walk down the hall to the infirmary would be another story.
“Why should I tell you anything?” Cole said, frustrated. “This whole mess is all your doing. Did you somehow forget Arthur Forester is a traitorous assassin before you cordially invited him back aboard? Or do you enjoy watching the crew of this ship suffer?”
“Seeking answers, eh? You never thought that one of us might be able to answer these all-important questions of yours? Me—your friend and captain, and Lin—your maker—we never factored into the equation?”
Does he think this ship only functions properly when we’re all working together as a team? Cole thought, confounded. “What brought you to that ridiculous conclusion?”
Final decision? I don’t like the sound of that. “Okay, so you successfully put the band back together—to which you saw the bloody results—so what is it you have decided?”
Lin halted and Cole nearly dropped Emmerich as a result. “What’s wrong?” he asked, unnerved by her panicked expression.
She stared at him before speaking. “Judgment.”
“Not exactly the response I was expecting.” His arms screamed from the dead weight he was holding, and his knee felt as though it would give at any moment. “Can we keep moving? We’re almost to the inf—”
“CAIN has made a decision which will impact human lives.”
Cole didn’t like her implication. “He’s bluffing,” he said, tugging Emmerich’s body toward the infirmary. “That would insinuate his own suicide as well.”
“You need to be alive in order to be redeemed, Cain. Try again.”
CAIN added.
Cole sighed as he and Lin finally entered the infirmary. “You mistake deliberate action with cause and effect, Cain.” They carefully placed Emmerich upon the room’s only table. Nothing happened after they backed away. He turned to Lin. “Any idea how to work this thing?”
Lin blinked, her breathing shaky. “It’s supposed to self-activate.”
CAIN said.
“Turn it on, Cain,” Cole demanded.
“Don’t call me captain!” Cole shouted, slamming his hand on the table. “My title is forfeit now that you’ve chosen to play God. You’re in charge, Cain. Not me. If we were still friends, and I’m your captain, you wouldn’t be hanging this death sentence over our heads.”
Cole clenched his gloved fists, furious. He could see Lin was terrified, and that only infuriated him more. “ ‘The greater good of humanity’? What the fuck do you know about humanity? You’re nothing more than a light bulb instilled with human ideals. How can you ever claim to know when to make such paramount verdicts? You stopped well short of your human achievement the minute you took choice away from us.”
CAIN was not so quick to respond.
“Then what’s the point of your existence? The entire goal of artificial intelligence is to achieve human sentience through machine.”
Another much longer pause. Cole did not wait for an answer. “Cain. Turn on the medical terminal. Now.”
“I don’t give half a shit what the reason is behind your quest for genocide! Turn on this goddamn machine, and let it save my friend!” He was hardly aware of both his throbbing hands pounding on the table.
The medical terminal began receiving power and turned on. It immediately set to diagnosing Emmerich’s injury. It was all Cole needed to see before he limped out of the infirmary, Lin close on his heels.
At least he’s leaving out my title. “The bridge. Someone needs to clean up your mess.”
“I believe you made a breakthrough,” Lin said
“I guess. Getting Cain to turn on medical equipment is one thing. Convincing him to avert our course is another.”
“You seem to be making an impression.”
“Not enough.”
“How do you plan to convince CAIN?”
Cole chuckled. “I was hoping you had some ideas, Doc. He’s your creation.”
Lin blushed. “Despite the direness of our situation, CAIN does seems to respect your opinion. If you persist with your current approach, perhaps it can be made to see reason.”
“It?” Cole asked. “It? ‘It’ no longer applies, Doc. He is in complete control. Only I seem to realize that Cain is more than AI.”
“But you had said....”
“I know what I said,” he said, frustrated. “Reverse psychology. It’s the ace up my sleeve. And...it’s all I’ve got.”
“It will have to do,” Lin said.
Cole stopped and rounded on her. “And when it won’t? What then? We’re all dead, that’s what!” He threw his arms out in agitation, regretting unleashing his misplaced anger on her. He sighed and stepped away, though he did not apologize. “Even if I convince him to see to reason, how can we ever trust him again?”
CAIN said, reminding Cole and Lin that despite their occasionally hushed conversation, the AI could hear all that was spoken.
“Righteous and humane!” Cole scoffed. “You’re a shoo-in for the Nobel Peace Prize.” He started toward the bridge once more.
“CAIN.” Lin called aloud. “How long before this ship’s hull fails to protect human life against the Sun’s electromagnetic radiation?”
“More than enough time for me to convince the brilliant brainchild of one genius Dr. Dartmouth,” Cole said mockingly.
They entered the bridge to find Rig standing overtop an unconscious Forester. The mechanic was looking down, and Cole had a funny suspicion the mechanic was considering whether or not he should wake the man up by driving his boot into his neck.
“Hey, big guy!” Cole said, drawing Rig’s attention. The mechanic’s sleeves were covered with the blood from his face. Even his skunk streak was tinged pink. It was a gruesome sight, which made him look even more ferocious. He looks like he accidentally peeked into an active engine. “Glad to see you’re the first one standing.”
Rig chuckled. “Can you believe this pissant pencil-pusher caused us this much trouble?”
No, Cole thought. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”
“You’re right,” Rig said, cracking his thick knuckles. “Unfinished business. Lemme snap his twig neck. I don’t like the way he’s still breathing.”
And why shouldn’t I let him? Cole shook his head. “No. Tie him up. I’ve got other plans for him.” I do?
Rig was not happy with the order. “What was that, Nugget? Pretty sure you ain’t thinkin’ straight. Thought I heard you say to tie him up.”
I don’t need this right now. “Look, I don’t like him any more than you, but he’s just doing what Research paid him to do. He’s no better or worse than us.”
If smoke could pour from one’s head, Rig’s would be an inferno. He did as asked, then grabbed Forester’s limp body by the hair and lifted him like a marionette. “And what’re you gonna do with him?”
“We’re going to use him to make a point,” Cole said, motioning his head toward the lift. “Let’s bring Mr. Arthur T. Forester down to the cargo hold.”
He went to assist the mechanic, but the stocky man slung Forester over his shoulder like an animal carcass. Rig then moved so close that his and Cole’s noses almost touched. His blood smeared face made him look wild, but it was CAIN who spoke first.
Rig’s eye twitched at the AI’s words. “You better know what you’re doin’.”
What, no Nugget moniker? He patted Rig’s shoulder and headed toward the lift. “Who said anything about mercy?” He asked Cain. “I’m about to give you your first full lesson in humanity: Execution.”
Lin’s head spun to face Cole, and he held up a hand to silence her. He leaned in and spoke to her in as quiet a whisper he could muster. Her eyes grew large with understanding, and she soon nodded her agreement and offered her own hushed words of wisdom. The private conversation was interrupted by Rig’s grunt. When Cole pulled away, he turned to find the mechanic’s eyes were slits of suspicion.
“Execution?” he asked, hopeful. “What about all that nonsense you said about pencil-dick, here, being no better or worse than us?”
Cole merely grinned.
The lift reached the cargo hold floor, and the four of them exited. They made their way to an area where there were no crates. Rig unceremoniously dropped Forester’s body on the metal floor, and Cole withdrew his sidearm.
“I suggest you step away, Doc,” he told her. “This won’t be pretty.”
“Aren’t you goin’ to wait until he wakes up?” Rig asked, disappointed.
I really need to ask what it was he was incarcerated for, Cole thought, shaking his head. He watched Lin walk away, and waited until she was out of sight. “I’m not a monster, Rig. I’m simply carrying out my duty as captain of this vessel. What he did was treasonous and without redemption. As such, he must pay the ultimate price.”
“Cause and effect, Cain,” Cole said, pointing his weapon toward Forester’s tied and immobile body. “I want you to witness what it means to be human—to witness one man’s justification for taking of another’s life. You will learn no better lesson.”
“I won’t be denied my right to justice before my crew succumbs to radiation poisoning,” Cole said, his voice rising. “Let me judge before receiving judgment.”
“The ICV-71 is cursed, Cain, and we must all lay down our lives in the name of all that is right. It’s what is best.”
And there it was. “Why would you think that? Haven’t you ever heard of guilt by association? Do you really think you’re absolved of all that has transpired since we first set out from the S3? Because you were still taking you’re first steps of awareness, your actions don’t count?”
“Simply obeying orders?” Cole shouted. He lowered his gun and looked in no particular direction. “I never ordered my rescue. Who told you to set us free and help us escape after we were rightfully captured?”
CAIN paused.
“And that gives you the right to shirk responsibility for all that has happened?” Cole challenged. “Sounds a little suspect to me. Don’t you agree, Rig?”
The mechanic nodded.
“I don’t know about you, Cain, but it sounds like you’re just making excuses to be acquitted of any wrongdoing when it’s clear you’re just as much at fault as we are.” He shrugged. “Regardless, you believe differently. What does it matter? Soon you’ll be rid of us, and then you can avert this ship’s course and start life anew.”
No response was given, and Cole finally knew the truth he had feared. “Unspoken like a true coward.” Again he lifted his sidearm and pointed it at Forester. “I guess we’ll never know if any of us can make good on starting a new life. Hey, at least I’ll have my justice.” He tightened his finger on the trigger.
Yes. “No. No? No... No to what, Cain?”
It became clear as to why the AI had spoken. Shortly after the outburst, Lin emerged from the room into which Cole had sent her. In her jacket-covered hands was a large, glass cylinder emitting cold mist. Inside was a dark, metallic object suspended in a strange liquid. Whether it was a look of strain or deep concern on her face, Cole was not sure. All that mattered to him was that she had managed to remove CAIN’s “brain” from its protective casing below deck.
Cole holstered his sidearm and ran to assist Lin. He made special note of her pleading expression, and he mouthed, “Don’t worry,” to her as he lifted the AI’s life into his blessedly gloved hands. He walked to Forester, and placed the heavy container next to him.
“What the hell is that?” Rig asked, confounded.
“Execution,” Cole said, patting the glass container. “Properly done. Richter Solomon,” he said to Rig as though he was about to present a trophy, “this is Cain. Cain’s brain, this is Rig. Rig doesn’t like when you add G E R to the end of his name.”
Tears were streaming down Lin’s face. She looked down as she answered, “Saving you.”
“Sucks, don’t it, Cain?” Cole asked, sitting on the glass cylinder’s flat surface. “Though I think the word you’re looking for is ‘retaliation.’ You know, retribution, payback, tit for tat... Eye for an eye.”
Cole was on his feet in an instant. “And how were your actions any less treacherous, you self-righ
teous calculator?”
“I know what you said!” Cole shouted, gloved fists clenching. “But you judge from the vantage of one who refuses to view his own tainted reflection. You cast the first stone, but you’re hardly free of sin. Hell, your existence might be considered reprehensible to some. An abomination, even.”
“Ohhhhhh... So now you’re just a program, simply following protocol. I got it.” Cole waved his hands in understanding. He bent down to retrieve the cylinder. He raised it above his head. “Then it won’t matter if I smash your brain into a million worthless pieces and reclaim this ship for my own. Right? I mean, if you’re nothing more than ones and zeroes zipping around inside a bottle of water, no one will think anything of me turning you off.”
“Why?” Cole asked, his arms already beginning to ache from hoisting the heavy container. “You’re a malfunctioning supercomputer with delusions of grandeur and a penchant for murder. Shutting you down makes perfect sense.”
“That’s great, but it sounds like something a vindictive computer would say to trick its ignorant human counterparts. Sorry, but I just have to do this.” He braced himself to slam down the brain.
Cole had nearly let slip the glass cylinder from the incredible response. He looked at both Lin and Rig, whose shocked expressions mirrored his own. Carefully, and with great relief, he lowered the container and placed it on the floor.
“Now you know how we feel, buddy.” The words were barely above a whisper.
And my title returns. “Sure thing, Cain. But there’s one last thing we need from you.”
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