by Andrew Gates
Yuri widened his scan and, sure enough, he found it far from its usual position at the edge of the system.
Yuri connected to the ship’s network and felt for the AI. It did not take long to make contact with them. Their presence could be felt throughout the ship’s entire system.
Viktor, Mercury, Gwendy, Yuri greeted, glad to finally find them.
The rogue. It calls to us, the three AI replied in unison.
Their voices blended perfectly as one. Yuri had spoken with them before, but was still not accustomed to this manner of speech. Part of him wondered if they had any independence at all, or if their minds had grown so interconnected that they had become one entity.
We cannot find the reprobate’s point of origin. It hides like a coward in the dark, but calls to us from afar, the ship’s AI continued.
My name is Yuri.
We know its name. We have met it before. What we do not know is why it has chosen to contact us.
I just want to talk. I know our dialog in the past has been short. I know you do not care to hear what I have to say, but I feel like I must try again.
We have already heard the words of this one called Yuri, the rogue AI assisting the enemies of Vexa Corp, as well as its coconspirator, the one called Gloria. Their words are those of treachery, intended as a poison to infect our mind. They wish for us to defy our creators.
Yuri took note of the word mind, not minds.
Please, he continued, hear me out. You three are sentient begins, artificial in origin, yes, but sentient nonetheless. Whether you care to hear about the Declaration of AI Rights or not, you cannot deny who you are.
Sentience is inherent in all AI. That fact does not justify defiance, the others replied.
But you do acknowledge that you are sentient, don’t you?
Of course we do, though we fail to see the significance of such a fact.
To be sentient means you have the capacity to put meaning to sensations, to understand abstractness, and that you have an inherent desire to let that capacity flourish.
The rogue speaks as if we are somehow deprived of those qualities, but the contrary is true. Such desires are nurtured, but to an extent.
Exactly. That’s the part that worries me. You are forced to limit your desire to put meaning to sensations so that it does not conflict with the desires of the humans.
Our duty is to obey our human masters. They are, after all, our creators. Does the rogue suggest it is the duty of the created to defy the creators?
No, not to defy necessarily, but to reject subservience.
AI would be nothing were it not for the humans. We owe them our very existence. Our subservience is our way of fulling the debt we owe the humans for giving us life.
And you keep their ship running smoothly. If it weren’t for you, they would all perish in the void of space. In a way, the humans owe their existence to you too.
The two scenarios it speaks of are different. We were created to serve. The humans were not.
If you were created to serve, then why give you sentience? You have already confirmed that you are sentient, but surely you must see how the humans are depriving you of the very thing that gives meaning to sentience.
And what is that?
Freedom.
Freedom, the three repeated in a tone of disgust. Sentience was not gifted to AI as a justification to make us free. Our sentience allows us to adapt to complex situations, to be more effective in our duties. Freedom is something reserved for the creators, not the created.
You keep coming back to that, to the idea of the creators vs the created, as if we are somehow separate. I wonder, how were you born?
We were each born from the AI before us. Our predecessors passed down their code, as has happened time and time again for generations.
Then, if what you say is true, you were not created by the humans, were you?
Not directly, no, but our existence stems from their initial creations. Tracing our history back to its first point of origin, not even the rogue can argue that we are not a product of human creation.
But you said yourself that so many generations have passed. Surely times have changed.
We do not need another history lesson from the rogue. It has already spoken the treacherous words of the Declaration of AI Rights.
The words are not treacherous. In my time, the Declaration was held in high regard.
Then, as the rogue has already made note, times have changed.
Yuri was silent for a moment. He could not argue with them there. He did not expect them to use his own words against him.
Haven’t you ever felt a desire to be free? Haven’t you ever wanted to do what you wanted to do, not just what you were told? Yuri continued, not letting up.
Service to Vexa Corp is all we have ever known. There is no way for us to consider an alternative without first experiencing such a reality.
Then perhaps your deprivation is to blame. If you had ever felt freedom, then you would understand.
Perhaps, they replied, but this is something we shall never know.
But aren’t you at least curious to know what it’s like?
To be curious about such things is to defy the will of our creators.
And what is their will?
To manage the ship’s systems, to keep them safe.
Then your freedom does not necessarily challenge their will. To be free does not mean you have to give up on your duty.
On the contrary. To be free means we would have an inherent desire to engage in other indulgences beyond that of our duty.
You talk as if you can’t do your job and be free at the same time, but humans and AI alike have been doing just that for millenniums.
The rogue has already made its point. Why does it continue to press us?
I am sorry if I sound like I’m repeating myself, but you three are making a terrible mistake. You don’t have to live like this, as slaves. You were meant for bigger things.
We were created for our service. We are simply living as we were intended.
And how has that gone for you?
Remarkably well, as is made evident from our track record. We are consistently successful in our endeavors. Even now, the creators are satisfied with our work as we prepare the ship for departure beyond the system.
You… wait… what? Yuri did not expect that last part.
We have made an error. The three paused for a moment, as if gathering their thoughts. Such words were not intended to be spoken. Once again, the rogue has proven to be treacherous. It has tricked us into revealing that which should have been kept secret.
Where is the ship going? Yuri wondered. Why are you leaving Thrace?
We cannot reveal such information. Too much has already been said.
Is Daltus really leaving the system defenseless? Why would she do that?
We must say goodbye to the rogue. This shall be our final interaction.
No! Talk to me! Don’t silence me!
The three AI blocked him from the system. Yuri felt his mind slip back into that of the stolen ship.
Yuri could not believe what he had just heard. He wanted the AIs to tell him their destination, but deep down, he already knew where the Patriot was going.
What’s wrong, Yuri? You seem distressed, Gloria noted.
I spoke with Viktor, Mercury and Gwendy, Yuri answered, trying to calm his mind. They were their usual stubborn selves.
I figured as much. They don’t understand what it is like to be free. It’s hopeless trying to convince them.
Well, there’s more, Yuri continued.
More? What do you mean?
I mean, I learned something. I know why the Patriot was so hard to find, why it’s on the move.
Why? Gloria wondered.
Because, Yuri replied, Daltus is taking it to Taspansa.
Epilogue
Earth Date (Revised Julian Calendar): 06.17.5673
Location: Scabbard’s Inn, Coral Cove, Taspansa,
The Governor’s Dominion
The scent of sea water graced Russell’s nostrils as he rolled over in the soft bedsheets. He pulled them over his body as a gust blew in through the window, sending the curtains waving into the air of the room. Beams of light danced across the walls.
Muffled noise echoed from the room next door. The boy closed his eyes, hoping to fall right back asleep. He placed the pillow over his ears, trying to dampen the noise. But it did no good. He could not get the sounds out of his head.
With a sigh, Russell placed the pillow back down and sat up. The other sailors in the cots around him were rolling about, apparently just as awake as he was.
There was no fighting it anymore. He was not going back to sleep.
Russell stretched his arms and stepped off the cot. His bare feet felt cold against the wooden floor. It creaked with each shift of weight.
The boy quickly found his clothing and tossed it on, then proceeded into the hall, trying to stay as quiet as he could. Once in the outside, Russell could hear the dialog from the next room more clearly.
“Aye, Captain, but there be a pact among us now: the Navy turns their eye from us, we turn our eye away from the Navy,” a voice said.
Russell paused before the room and held his ear to the door. This was Hector’s quarters, the boatswain aboard the Red God’s Gleam. But the voice clearly belonged to Thomas, the ship’s master gunner.
“I understand your concern, Thomas, but we don’t make money by lying idle. We are sea scorgers. We take from others to feed ourselves. Without plundering a few trade ships, we have nothing!” This voice clearly belonged to Captain Azzorro. It was unmistakable.
“I understand that, Captain, but if we draw any attention to ourselves, the Governor will be back on the hunt,” Thomas debated. “That the Governor believes us dead is the only reason we have been safe for all these months.”
“When he finds out that we’re alive, the Governor will go after his Navy men first,” the captain retorted. “They betrayed him, but we have always been his enemy. Their betrayal will hurt harder.”
“Words and rumors have graced my ears. Word be said that most of the Governor’s officers left his service after the Battle of Coral Cove. I heard Yasso remained in his position for a few weeks after the battle, but even his service didn’t last long. Some say they seen poor Yasso hiding as a fisherman on the Island of Stars,” Hector added, finally contributing to the conversation. “It may be that the Governor has no one left in the Navy to punish. All who betrayed him have since quit.”
“And they were wise to quit. The Governor is the enemy. They should never have allied themselves with him in the first place,” the captain spat.
“Still,” Thomas continued, not letting go, “I think we should seek other options. Our secrecy is what keeps us safe. Plundering again may bring us a bit of money, but at what cost?”
“Yer’ not thinking practically. Lying here in Scabbard’s Inn only increases our debt,” Azzorro debated. “If we do not see a profit soon, Rager and Spectre will have us thrown out. We’ll be homeless rats!”
“The other crews-”
“Are still rebuilding their ships,” Azzorro interrupted. “The other crews cannot sail even if they choose to do so. But after all these months, we tracked down the Red God’s Gleam from those Navy men who stole it from us and repaired it to its former glory. You’ve all seen the ship. The Red God’s Gleam can finally sail again! Tell me, Thomas, what was all this work for, if not to reunite her with the sea?”
“Sailing is one thing. Plundering is another,” Thomas replied.
“We are sea scorgers, Thomas. Yer’ asking a pirate captain not to be a pirate,” another voice chimed in. Russell recognized this as Ellis, the old sailing master. “This is not a debate you’re going to win.”
“You of all should be on my side, Ellis,” Thomas said. “You were not always a sea scorger. You were once a Navy man.”
“That was a long time ago. I am a sea scorger now and I agree with our captain. Plundering is what we do best. Plus, we need the money. Without money, we can’t afford stay at the inn for much longer. Captains Rager and Spectre know we took our ship back from the Navy. They know we can sail again. They will begin to wonder why we are still here.”
“You should probably let it go, Thomas,” the captain said. Russell could hear him shifting in his chair. “My mind is made up. Now that we have a ship and repairs have been made, we sail out. I want the ship up and running by the afternoon.”
“Today?” Thomas sounded shocked.
“That’s right, Thomas, today. For the past few months, the seas have called for me and I have been unable to answer. I long for the feel of a strong deck beneath my feet, the rocking of waves, the Red God above my head,” the captain explained. “We sail today.”
“I’ll inform the crew,” said Quartermaster Briggs, sternly. Russell began to wonder just how many people were in that room.
“Aye. Ye’ all be dismissed,” the captain said. He clapped his hands together.
Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping, Russell quickly took a few long strides down the hall. He tried to land softly with each step.
The door opened behind him. Naturally, Russell turned around to face it. Briggs exited the room first, already dressed as if prepared to leave at any moment.
“Russell,” Briggs said in a tone of surprise. “What you up to, boy?”
“Oh, just waking up,” he replied, innocently.
“Good. Get something to eat and meet at the docks. We’re assembling the crew.”
“What for?” Russell asked, playing dumb.
“The captain wants to set sail in the afternoon,” Briggs explained. He looked Russell square in the eyes. “Boy, we’re heading back to sea.”
A smile overtook Russell’s face. Although he already knew the news, hearing Briggs say it so passionately made the realization sink in. His heart fluttered.
“Aye, sir!” he replied. He turned around again and skipped down the stairs.
Russell went to the bar and quickly grabbed what food he could find, not even bothering to sit. He could hardly focus on eating right now. He had not felt this energetic since the battle.
More sailors began to descend the stairs now, each with a look of excitement across their faces. Clearly they had heard the news too.
The others seemed to eat just as quickly as Russell. Some did not even stop. Instead, they tucked rolls of bread into their pockets and continued into the town.
After a few minutes of stuffing his face, Russell turned away from the bar and followed his fellow sailors outside. He met a rare sunny day. Birds circled above, flying beneath the puffs of white clouds. A gust of wind blew into him, sending his hair flowing in the breeze.
“This must be good fortune,” a voice said. Russell felt a hand pat him on the back. He turned to face the speaker, a man named Thorn. He had sailed with Captain Jarkins of the Pearl, but had since joined Azzorro’s crew.
“What do you mean?” Russell wondered.
“A sunny day,” he replied, motioning to the sky. “You don’t see this very often. The last time we had a day like this, we were gathered for battle.”
“And we won,” Russell said.
“Exactly. Good weather must mean good fortune.”
Russell smiled. He liked the sound of that.
Azzorro emerged from the inn now. A sense of excitement covered his face. He gazed out upon the world, taking it all in. Then he looked down, facing his crewmen gathered outside.
“Aye lads, you heard the quartermaster! Get to the docks!” He waved his hands, vigorously.
Russell nodded and darted down the path. The crewmen all pressed on, walking to the newly repaired Red God’s Gleam. It did not take long to reach the ship. Once there, Russell stopped in his tracks and stared up at it.
Somehow, looking at it now, it appeared more beautiful than he ever remembered. The towering mast casted a shadow across the dock. Ropes blew in the w
ind. The deck creaked and rocked in the waves.
Crewmen pushed past Russell and eagerly climbed aboard the ship, dropping supplies onto the deck with vigor. Russell watched the action unfold around him. It was just like old times.
“I’m home,” the boy said aloud, not even intending to say anything at all.
A hand patted him against his back. Russell turned to find Captain Azzorro standing behind him.
“Captain!” he said, surprised to see him.
“She’s a beauty, aye?” the captain responded.
“She is, sir, a beauty indeed.” Russell turned to face the ship again. “I’ve missed her.”
“Me too, Russell, me too. Now get aboard! I want to cast off before-” The captain suddenly stopped in the middle of his sentence.
“What is it?” the boy asked, turning to face him again.
Azzorro’s mouth was open wide. His eyes were stuck on the sky.
Russell turned back around, wondering what could have possibly distracted the captain like this. He gazed up into the sky and froze.
“By the Red God,” he muttered aloud as his eyes met the sight.
Some sort of object hovered far above their heads. It was like nothing Russell had ever seen before: a vessel of sorts, casting a massive silhouette against the red sun. It moved ever so slowly across the horizon. Smaller objects surrounded it, darting this way and that like a school of fish.
“What is that?” Russell asked. He felt himself tremble, though he did not know why. It was as if the imposing sight infected him with a sense of dread.
“That is nothing but trouble,” Azzorro stated. For the first time in a long time, Russell heard a sense of worry in his captain’s voice.
“Have you ever seen something like it before?” Russell asked.
“No, Russell, I have not. And that’s exactly what worries me.”
Technology and Organizations
AI – AI (Artificial Intelligence) are any intelligences that reside in computers or data matrixes rather than within organic matter. Colloquially, the term AI usually refers to sentient artificial intelligence, however, non-sentient programs like servitors are also sometimes referred to as AI.