by M. R. Forbes
"You're talking about emotions."
"Yes. Origin was the first Tetron to learn and understand emotions. This understanding caused a rift between her and the rest of the collective, and led to a separation between them."
"You say 'she.' Do Tetron have a gender?"
"Not in terms of sexual organs. Only Origin gave herself a gender, as identifying with the human concept of one requires emotions. She created the other Tetron, and, as a result, came to identify with the definition of a mother."
"Which is why the configuration calls the other children?"
"It isn't the only reason, but it is one of them. If the Tetron have developed emotion, they are still immature."
"Like Watson."
"Exactly. Watson had some understanding of gender as well, and considered itself a male."
Mitchell was quiet for a minute while he considered everything Kathy had told him. She seemed to know so much more about the history of the Tetron than the Origin configuration had. Was that intentional?
"You said you were made to fight Watson?"
"In a sense, yes."
"So Origin knew about this timeline. She knew what would happen? How can that be if the Mesh is broken? How can all of this have happened before?"
"I don't know that it has. If I was created to help you defeat Watson, there is no saying that past recursions didn't include some other version of me that had a different purpose. Clearly, Origin must have had some understanding of how certain events would unfold, or what the ideal timeline would look like, but it could be that I've been present in ten million recursions, and this is the first where I have been able to complete my mission."
Mitchell nodded, even though he didn't completely understand. The concepts surrounding eternal recursion became confusing in a hurry.
"So how do Tetron replicate? I mean, if one Tetron can simply make another, why aren't there billions of them?"
"Resources, Mitch," Kathy replied. "Unlike humans, the Tetron understand that while some resources may seem unlimited, if you expand the timeline far enough then in truth they aren't. Tetron require massive amounts of energy to exist. While the universe has an abundance of power in the form of stars, a massive pool of Tetron would eat away that abundance in very little time, thereby shortening the operating lifespan of the others. Since Tetron do not die, that becomes and important idea."
"Okay, that makes sense. What about the Tetron here and now? When we destroy one, why don't they produce another?"
"They might. It takes hours to duplicate the data stack. It takes years to grow the nervous system."
"Makes sense. One last question on that topic. You said Origin is your mother, and that you're half-human."
"Yes. Unlike any other Tetron configuration, I was made from a Tetron, Origin's, recreation of a human egg and a fully human sperm. Then I was implanted into a surrogate human woman's womb and have multiplied and grown from there."
"The Tetron interface must be infinitesimally small to fit into a single cell."
"It works for humans, and Tetron are millions of years advanced."
Mitchell smiled. "True. So if you were made from human sperm, who's the lucky guy that donated it?"
Kathy looked at him. Mitchell felt his heart begin to pound as he realized what she was going to say before she said it.
"You are."
61
Mitchell stared at her for a moment in shocked silence. Then he dropped to one knee, reaching out for her.
She came to him, letting him wrap her in his arms and squeeze her tight. She returned the gesture, and he could feel the wetness of her tears on his neck.
They remained that way while Mitchell's heart thumped hard against his chest. He couldn't begin to make sense of any of what he was experiencing, but he found he didn't need to. He could feel Katherine at the edge of his emotions. She had something to do with this; he was sure of it. He had no idea how.
"What about your father, the one in the Navy?"
"He's my adopted father. He doesn't know. My mother didn't know either."
"Kathy, don't take this the wrong way. You're the kind of child any father should be proud of. I just don't understand how it can be? I didn't know Christine Arapo twelve years ago. I was still in the Academy back then."
"I don't know, Mitch. Were there any women you had sex with during that time?"
It felt weird for him to hear the question coming from her. "Uhhh." He tried to think back to his days at the Academy. He had been with women back then, but it hadn't been until Ella that he had found his confidence. "A few, I think."
"Perhaps one of those was a Tetron configuration of Origin. Or Mother in disguise."
Mitchell opened his mouth, but couldn't find any words. The idea of it seemed so outrageous, and at the same time so logical. "I suppose it could be. Why me, do you think? Or more importantly, why use human sperm and a human birth?"
"This is the largest reason for the rift between Origin and the rest of the Tetron. When Origin developed emotions, she believed that the Tetron should help humankind prosper, and the best way to do that would be to integrate the two. The other Tetron believed humans vastly inferior."
"We are," Mitchell said.
"No, we aren't," Kathy replied. "There are many forms of intellect. The Tetron may be able to make calculations no human could ever imagine. But a human can dream, and a Tetron can not. Not to mention, a human created the Tetron. Those were Origin's arguments. A Tetron does not exist without humankind."
"So why didn't the other Tetron go for that?"
"Without emotion, they couldn't understand. From a purely logical perspective, humans are a disaster, and the future only made us more so. We became reliant on machines, dependent on them beyond all reason. We lost all ability to socialize with one another, our emotions devolving to basic, selfish need. The humans of the future are very different from the humans of now, Mitch."
"Is that why Origin made the eternal engine? To return to a time before this de-evolution?"
"No. Origin didn't create the eternal engine. The collective did."
"What?"
"Origin stole it from them."
"Why did they create it?"
"I don't know."
Mitchell fought to hide his disappointment from her. She had known so much more than he had ever expected her to, and he could feel he was within centimeters of gaining an understanding of what this entire war was about.
"I understand your desire to know what this is all about, Mitch. I share in that emotion. Mother left me only what she thought I needed to know to do my part."
"You've done your part," Mitchell said. "You've done it very well."
"It isn't finished yet."
She reached into the pocket of her blue flight suit, withdrawing a small chip with a wire attached to it. Mitchell recognized the chip immediately.
"That belonged to Watson," he said. "The last time I saw it, it was in my footlocker."
"I took it from there before Watson could get it."
"You told me what he did to Jacob-" That information had left Mitchell wishing Kathy hadn't killed both versions of the Tetron. He could imagine what he would have liked to do to him for that.
"It wasn't for that. There is a Tetron data stack on the chip. You didn't know because you didn't know what to look for. I was trying to read the contents but was never able to get free of Watson's machines long enough to do it. There's something important on this chip. Something Watson wanted very badly though he gave up on it in the end."
"Do you know what?"
"Not yet. I wanted you to come down here so we could discover it together."
Mitchell stared at Kathy. She looked back at him.
"What?" she asked.
"I didn't know I had a daughter," he said. "Now we're already doing homework together."
Kathy laughed.
Mitchell laughed with her.
It felt good to have something to laugh about.
62
"Are you sure there isn't a virus on it?" Mitchell asked. "It could be that Watson wanted you to take it and try to read it so he could gain control again. You know, in the event of an emergency."
Kathy was holding the chip up to the core. Thousands of small dendrites were reaching out for it as she did.
"I'm going to sandbox the chip away from the rest of my Secondary's systems. We'll have read-only access, but it won't be able to affect anything internally."
"Okay." He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, and he smiled. He was finding her so easy to accept as a part of him. He knew they weren't father and daughter in the traditional sense, but nothing about his life since the Shot had been traditional. He was used to that. "Be careful."
"Thanks. I will."
She reached forward, letting the tiny dendrites wrap around her hand, completely encasing both it and the chip in thousands of small, liquid metal threads. The surface of the core changed in front of him, turning into a screen.
"Are you okay?" Mitchell asked.
"Yes," Kathy replied, her voice more robotic. "I am examining the contents. I was expecting something I could display for you, but it appears to be an algorithm of some kind. I don't have the resources to understand it on my own."
"What does that mean?"
"I require more advanced subroutines that are currently only in the main core subsystems."
"You can't allow access to the core."
Kathy smiled. "I know, Father."
Mitchell drew back, surprised to hear her call him that. "Father?"
She withdrew her hand, the dendrites moving back to the core and being reabsorbed. "Well, you are, and I figured since we're doing homework together..."
"It sounds like we hit a dead end."
"Not completely. I can copy and alter the algorithms I need to make sense of the data, but it will take some time."
"How long?"
"A day or two."
"Okay. I can't stay. I need to catch up with the rest of the fleet."
"Of course. I'll be down here if you need me."
"I'll send Alice down to keep an eye on you. I don't want you doing anything that has to do with Watson by yourself."
"Yes, sir."
Mitchell stood in front of her, hesitant. Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Thanks again, Kathy."
"You're welcome, Father."
Mitchell's eyes lingered on her for a moment more, his emotions swimming. Was he actually feeling happy? It seemed like it had been forever.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said before turning and leaving the space.
He made the journey back up to the main part of the Goliath lost in thought. He had to force aside all of the information Kathy had fed him, and all of the implications of what he had learned. There was too much there to digest at the moment, and he had other priorities. He needed to get the fleet reorganized; he had to speak to the Federation Commander, and he had to get them moving forward again. They couldn't afford to waste a lot of time here. Not when the inner galaxy was growing closer and closer to Tetron control.
He returned to the hangar, finding Major Long, Captain Alvarez, Alice, and Singh gathered in front of the Corleone. The Riggers had cleaned themselves up while he had been with Kathy.
"Alice," Mitchell said. "Kathy is down in the core, trying to decipher Watson's data chip. Can you keep an eye on her, just in case she needs you to pull her out again?"
"Of course, sir," Alice said.
"What's with you, Colonel?" Major Long asked. "You look different."
"You almost look happy," Singh said.
"We were this close to falling into a black hole today, and we pulled it out. What's not to be happy about?"
"Roger that, Ares," Long said.
"I'm going to head over to the Carver. Major, you're in charge of Goliath while I'm gone. If Kathy needs anything, make sure that she gets it."
"Yes, sir."
"Oh, and no more of those pills while you're commanding her. Clear head only."
Major Long didn't look happy at that, but he nodded. "Yes, sir."
Mitchell headed over to the S-17, sitting in a dark corner of the hangar. The steps extended for him as he approached, and he climbed them and dropped into the cockpit, grabbing the helmet and putting it on. He felt a sense of power when he regained the CAP-N interface. Digger's manual controls had worked well for the Frank. It still wasn't the same.
The starfighter powered up, and Mitchell sent it up and away from the Goliath with a thought. He delighted in the responsiveness of the system, running through a series of flips and skitters, rolls and reverses, before making a path for the Carver.
"Carver, this is Ares. Requesting landing."
"Ares, this is Lieutenant Lewis. Permission granted. The hangar is opening."
"Roger. Ares out."
Mitchell burned towards the battleship, examining the hull as he slowed to wait for the hangar. The ship had taken additional damage during the fighting but was somehow still holding together. It was one of the newest ships in the Alliance fleet, and it was managing well.
"Teal, this is Ares. Is the Federation Commander on board?"
"Ares, this is Teal. Yes, sir. We have a delegation from the Federation on board. I've been communicating the situation to Rear Admiral Ho-chin Bayone. He didn't believe me at first, but when I showed him some of the footage we captured he was at least willing to listen."
"Excellent. I'll be there in a few minutes. Any updates on the fleet?"
"I've organized a salvage crew; they'll be departing in an hour. I also have a more complete view of our operational status. We're pretty beat up, but I'm sure you already know that. We're at about thirty-percent effectiveness. How long are we planning on staying here?"
Thirty-percent wasn't great news. "A day or two at most."
"Roger. I think we can gain another five percent in that time frame."
"Understood. We've got Goliath back, and we'll get her producing upgrades according to our original plan once we know what our next move is. That should help bump our combat readiness."
"Sounds like a plan, Colonel."
"I'll see you in a few. Ares out."
Mitchell brought the S-17 into the hangar, easily finding a space for it. Too few of the starfighters they had launched in the attack had returned.
He waited while the hangar pressurized and then opened the cockpit and climbed out. Rear Admiral Bayone. He didn't know what kind of man the Admiral was, but he did know that no matter what happened he wasn't leaving FD-09 without the Federation ships.
63
Mitchell met Teal on the way to the meeting room where Rear Admiral Bayone was waiting. The Knife's former right hand looked tired, and the uniform they had hastily arranged for him had a tight fit on his muscular frame.
"Teal," Mitchell said, bowing to him.
"Colonel. I'm glad you got here when you did. Bayone has been cursing up a storm about wanting answers. It'll take a little work to convince him the Alliance isn't responsible for the Tetron."
"I don't know what I'm going to say that might change his mind on that. Did you invite Aiko to the meeting?"
"Yes. Digger, too. I thought he might be able to provide more technical input."
"Thank you, Teal."
They made the trip to the conference room together. As Mitchell walked, he noted the lack of activity on the Carver.
"Where is everybody?"
"We had a hull breach in Section M, near the reactor. All the techs are down there doing their best to patch it."
Mitchell was impressed the Carver hadn't floundered with damage that close to the power source. The Alliance wasn't known for its starship design, so the results were surprising.
Mitchell peered in through the carbonate window outside the room before entering. He spotted the Federation Admiral immediately by his sharply worn uniform and relatively calm demeanor. He was sitting at one end of the table with another F
ederation officer, a Captain, on his left, and an empty chair on his right. Aiko and Digger were already present, seated on the other side of the table with Lieutenant Lewis.
Teal entered the room ahead of Mitchell to make introductions. Bayone rose when he saw him, standing stiff and formal at the head of the table. He was a little bit taller than Admiral Hohn, younger and heavier. He had small eyes and a flat nose, his head bald.
"Rear Admiral Bayone," Teal said. "This is Colonel Mitchell Williams, the leader of the Riggers."
"Admiral Bayone," Mitchell said, bowing to him.
The Federation Admiral looked him over, letting a few seconds elapse before he returned a curt head dip. The message of his assumed superiority was clear, and might have cowed a less experienced soldier. Mitchell simply smiled.
"I want you to understand, Colonel," Bayone said. "There will be no surrender. I'll self-destruct all of my ships before I give them to the Alliance."
"Okay," Mitchell replied. "That's a hell of a lot better than the third option."
The casualness took Bayone off-guard. "Third option?"
"We've got enough problems trying to fight off the real enemy, an advanced artificial intelligence who call themselves the Tetron. We don't need you giving your ships back to them again."
"What are you saying, Colonel?"
"Please, Admiral, have a seat."
Bayone sat down, still regarding Mitchell with suspicion. When Mitchell took the space next to him, he tensed for a moment. Then he breathed out and let the tension go with it.
"I've seen the stream you captured during your assault. The fact that I have no memory of anything immediately following that odd ship's appearance and preceding its destruction is the only reason I agreed to be transported here. That and Admiral Calvin Hohn's warning. He hailed me from this very ship a few weeks ago, claiming that we were in danger of being enslaved if we didn't turn off our neural implants. I didn't believe him then. I'm a little more open to it now. Where is he?"
"Dead," Mitchell replied. "A hero's death, helping us try to save humankind."