by Matt Verish
“There is no need.”
Cole jumped when a male voice filled his comm. He looked at the others, who appeared to have heard it as well. He returned his attention to the being. “You...you can hear and understand me?”
The being nodded, though it was still slowly moving away.
“That’s fantastic!” Cole smiled and lowered his arms. “Then I trust you understand we mean you no harm.”
“I understand humans trust their violent instincts in the face of the unknown.”
The corner of Cole’s mouth twitched. This ought to be fun. “Well, if you understand humans so well, then you’re aware that not all of us are predisposed towards violence.”
The being was standing directly in front of the cylinder as though protecting it. “It is unavoidable. Violence is inherent in mankind’s nature no matter their efforts toward instilling civility. You are simply barbaric creatures masquerading as sophisticated philanthropists.”
Cole folded his arms across his chest, forgetting that he was talking with an intelligent life form from another universe. “Wow... A bit harshly judgmental, aren’t you? Tell me, how can you summarize my entire civilization without having studied and interacted with us? I didn’t see anyone upon boarding this ship, yet somehow you managed to identify the infinitely complex psyche of us humans while hiding in the dark bowels of an abandoned ship my race built. Bravo!”
Cole. Please hold your tongue. There’s something about this being....
He ignored Lin, bottled up anger rising to the surface. “If we’re all making broad assumptions with vague details, then let me tell you what I’ve deduced about you in the sixty seconds I’ve known you, friend.” He pointed at the being, which was pressed up against the cylinder. “I know you’re wrong about us. I also know you’re terrified of a false ideal you’ve implanted in that ignorant head of yours.” He lowered his arm. “You’re also guarding an important secret.”
The being’s white eyes widened.
“That’s the stupid shit I was talkin’ about,” Rig said.
Cole ignored and switched him off the comm too. “Go ahead—tell me I’m wrong. Give me another reason to return the favor. I’m done with pleasantries. I didn’t evade the whole of my humanity to come here on a survival mission and be judged by some neon grape alien.”
Oh, Cole....
The being leaned forward, head slightly tilted. “Alien?”
Cole nodded. “Yes, alien. You. Are you ignorant of that as well?” Man, I really need to calm down.
“I am neither extraterrestrial nor a truly organic life form.”
Suddenly the pieces were beginning to fit, and he assumed Lin was contacting him to verify what he was already thinking.
Cole, this is a sentient AI being.
“That’s what I was thinking. Similar to CAIN, right?”
More than that. It’s the progenitor.
“Um, how can you possibly know that?”
Because my father programmed this being’s mind.
“What?” Cole had shouted the question, and the being flinched. He raised his hands in the same calming manner he had attempted earlier. “Sorry about that, but my secretive partner just revealed some pretty incredible information regarding you.”
Rig and Emmerich had finally gathered enough courage to join Cole in front of the engine room entrance, though neither had thought to lower their weapons. A stern glare from him was the coaxing they needed to shoulder the rifles. He hoped that by the three of them clogging the entrance, the being’s fear wouldn’t escalate.
“Explain this ‘father’ mentioned.”
Cole arched a brow. He’s hacked into our Ocunet feed. “I’d love to have a discussion with you, but you don’t trust us, nor do you seem eager to leave this room.”
“It is my duty to guard The Source at all costs,” the being said. “However, further discourse is not dependent upon location.”
Ah, so he is interested in talking. Hopefully about whatever this “Source” is. “Look, why don’t we start over. You’re obviously concerned for a good reason, and my initial approach at conversation was less than engaging. My name’s Cole, and my crew and I scouted the Daedalus in hope of repairing our ship. We didn’t think it was abandoned when we first boarded.”
The being did not relax. “Cole. How is it you know this vessel’s name?”
No need to reveal every detail. “I share a past with it. Also, my mother was once admiral of the Daedalus.”
The being remained impassive. “Harper Musgrave is known to me. You claim she is your mother?”
“No need to claim a fact.”
The being stared for a time, silent. “Records indicate otherwise.”
Gee, thanks again, Mom. “Regardless of what your records do or do not indicate, I know what I know. My relationship with my mother was strained during the best of times, and she may have resented—”
“You speak of trust,” the being said, interrupting Cole, “yet you continue to indulge in lies.”
“I have no reason to lie to you.”
“You claim to have boarded with the intent to repair,” it continued, “though it is clear your true intentions are to abscond with The Source.”
“No, you’re making poor assumptions based on minimal information,” Cole countered, his ire rising once more. “I have no idea what The Source is, nor do I care. The only reason we were wandering around this ship was because we needed supplies and parts.”
“So you fully admit your mission to be one of theft?”
Progenitor or degenerate? “Two completely separate ideas.” Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Emmerich slowly raising her rifle. “You know what? Never mind. We’re going back to our ship. You can stay down here sulking and protect your precious Source all you want.”
Cole turned and began marching from the engine room, hoping the others would follow suit. His plan was to curb Emmerich’s temper and prove once and for all to the being that the crew of the Icarus was true to their word. What he received was the complete opposite. Neither Rig nor Emmerich had budged, seemingly frozen in place. Their weapons were raised and pointed toward the being.
...Which had ceased glowing, save for the intense light blazing in the center of its chest.
“Your actions leave me no choice but to enact drastic measures.”
Cole squinted at the being, his helmet lantern revealing its gaunt, gray corpse form beneath the glow. “Um, drastic measures?”
The beacon started a slow, methodical pulse. “Self-destruct will commence in T-minus thirty seconds.”
13
BETRAYED
Cole had stared death in the face more times in the past month than he had over the course of his forty years of living. Whether it had been through experience or sheer luck, he had managed to evade the Grim Reaper every single time. Not even the relentless efforts of Terracom, UniSys, Military, SolEx, The Ravens, and Black Dwarf could stop him. To bring him down, it had taken an eccentric, bipedal AI buried in the depths of an abandoned star cruiser, lost to time in another universe. With each violet pulse in the center of the being’s chest, came the crushing reality that his luck had finally run out.
Both Emmerich and Rig had grabbed and picked him up in an attempt to carry him back to the Icarus. He knew it would not matter. They would all be dead long before they made it to the platform holding the ship.
Archytas.
Cole read the word Lin had sent him, and it might as well have been another language. “Who or what is Archytas?” he asked, worried she had lost her mind in these final seconds.
The being’s name is Archytas. Say aloud, “Archytas steam-powered pigeon.”
Cole was not about to question her sanity, and besides, so he blurted out, “Archytas steam-powered pigeon!” He shrugged off Emmerich, though Rig’s grip might as well have been made of steel. “Wait! We’re not going to make it anyway.”
The mechanic appeared to be considering knocking Cole out. “Nu
gget. Don’t make me drag you by your nuts.”
“Look!”
Cole was pointing wildly at the being, which had taken a less defensive stance. The pulsing light in its chest had ceased, distributing the violet energy throughout its entire body, back to its original glow. Its white eyes stared off at nothing.
Emmerich raised her rifle once more, and Cole was convinced she would pull the trigger. He was inclined to let her, though she only kept the barrel pointed in its direction. Rig seemed hesitant to join her. The mechanic was scratching his head, despite a thick spacesuit helmet blocking him from completing the action.
“What’s happening, Musgrave?”
Cole stepped up beside Emmerich. “Not sure. Doc told me to spew nonsense, and so I did. Apparently it must have caused some sort of reset.”
Emmerich glanced at him. “Reset? Like this thing is a computer?”
Cole shrugged.
“Did you say ‘Activate steam-plowed pig shit’?” Rig asked.
Cole laughed. Hard. He placed a hand on the mechanic’s shoulder to keep from pitching forward. “No, but I like what you just said a whole lot better.”
“This is not the time to be laughing it up,” Emmerich scolded. “How do you know we’re safe? That thing is still standing there.”
Cole cleared his throat. “I don’t know that we’re safe.” He presented his surroundings. “But I do know that thirty seconds have long-since passed, and we’re not dead.”
Rig had joined them. “Alright, so what do we do now? Reprogram it?”
Precisely.
Cole spun to find Lin walking around the corner. The others were late to acknowledge her, as she had been sending him personal messages.
“Hey, Doc,” Cole said, waving awkwardly to her. “Glad to see you disobeyed my orders to come help us three dolts. Thanks for relaying that ridiculous sentence. Don’t know what it means, but I’m grateful for what it did.”
Lin’s Rook hovered past the trio toward the immobile being. She stopped just in front of Cole and collected his waiting, outstretched hand. All three of you are quite astute in regard to this being and what must be done. She nodded in its direction.
“Are you two speaking telepathically?” Emmerich said snidely. “Or is she purposely communicating with you in secret?”
“Aw, that’s no way to address someone who just paid you a compliment and literally saved our lives,” Cole said, rubbing one index finger over the other in a sign of shame.
Those words... Lin trailed, opening the communication line and waiting until all attention was upon her. ...they were specifically programmed by my father as a means of rebooting Archytas in the event of critical error.
“That’s one hell of a sentence, ‘Archytas steam-powered pigeon,’” Cole said. “What does it even mean?”
Lin smiled. It’s derived from the name of the first known robot created around 400 B.C.
“Who’s Archytas?” Rig asked.
Cole thumbed back at the being. “Him. The violet wonder. Though he looks nothing like a pigeon. Maybe it had something to do with him being a bird-brain.”
“Wait,” Emmerich interrupted. “You mentioned your father,” she said to Lin. “That would insinuate you know what it is.”
Lin nodded, though her attention was fully upon Cole. He stared back at her, unsure how it was she had any ties to the Daedalus.
Lin’s mouth twisted. Archytas is my childhood friend.
~
Cole watched in fascination as Lin tinkered with the much more amiable being. Archytas may have been her one-time guardian, but she remembered the AI as little more than an outdated program uploaded to an older model Rook. She was in the midst of discovering how her digital caretaker had upgraded.
“D’ya think Mr. Purple, here, actually had access to this ship’s self-destruct function?” Rig asked. “I mean, this place is a driftin’ junk heap.”
Cole had wondered the same thing. “You’ll have to ask Doc once she’s done reprogramming her old nanny.” He smirked when she glared at him. Then she nodded in answer to the mechanic’s question.
“Then what’s keeping that thing from reenacting the countdown?” Emmerich asked.
Cole sighed. “Have you been paying attention to anything that’s transpired over the past few minutes?”
“I know that we’re no better off now than we were prior to coming down here,” she replied. “We’re still stuck in some foreign universe, aboard an abandoned ship bereft of supplies. And let’s not forget that there’s another robot that has ties to Dartmouth. Explain that.”
“I can’t,” Cole said. “But at least we’re alive to try and figure that out.”
Emmerich was looking at Lin. “I was hoping she had some answers.”
“Bitch, give her a minute,” Rig said, agitated. “You don’t ever have anything positive to say, do y—”
Cole lunged at Emmerich to stop her from slamming the butt of her rifle into Rig’s face. She missed her target, and the two of them fell. Cole kicked the rifle out of her loosened grip and pointed his own at her chest.
“That’s enough! Take your petty pride and stuff it up your tight ass. We’re lucky to be alive, and you’re picking a fight. Why? Because he’s right? You’ve done nothing but rub against the grain since I was nice enough to allow you back aboard the Icarus. I’m seriously regretting my decision. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t just put a hole in your chest?”
Emmerich was trembling, and Cole assumed it was from rage. There was plenty of anger there, but the longer he gazed at her, the more he realized she was afraid. He wondered how it was he hadn’t noticed it earlier.
With a heavy sigh, he lowered the rifle. He slung it over his shoulder and pushed himself up to one knee. He reached out his hand, knowing she wouldn’t accept. “C’mon,” he said, motioning for her to take the olive branch. “Forget the whole thing ever happened. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“Forget it?” Rig said, incredulous. “The bitch was looking to cave my...” His words trailed when Cole looked up at him, pleading.
Cole turned back to Emmerich, arm still extended. “We’re a team, Chrys. We’re all in this mess together, whether we like it or not. So we may as well grin and bear each other’s company.”
To everyone’s astonishment, Emmerich accepted his hand and she stood. Cole nodded and let her be. He did not want to shatter this fragile moment.
“I’ve gained access to Archytas,” said Lin through Cole’s comm.
He faced her Rook, but it was dark and silent. It was Archytas who moved, making its way toward them.
“I have complete control over the android body,” Lin’s voice said from the being’s lips. “There’s no need for arms.”
Cole slowly lowered his rifle, but Emmerich did not. Sympathy had cooled Cole’s ire with her, but he would not let her fear compromise the group. “Chrys?”
His gentle but threatening question made her lower her rifle. Cole extended his hand, palm-up, waiting. Emmerich unslung her rifle and passed it to him. Then she turned on her heel and headed back the way everyone had come. Cole said nothing, hoping her feet would lead her back to the Icarus.
“That bitch is cracked.”
Cole wondered if perhaps Rig was right. Now, however, was not the time to psychoanalyze a dangerous ex-Military member with the jitters. He sighed. “As much as I want to know more about our new friend and his beloved spinning cylinder, we should all probably head back. Standing down here in the dark isn’t going to fix our ship.”
“I may be of assistance.”
Archytas had spoken in its original voice, minus any distrust. Cole turned to Lin, who looked worried, though nodded her consent. “How so?”
The AI did not respond, and just when Cole thought there was a critical error, the Daedalus came to life. Lights flickered on around the engine room, accompanied by a cacophony of buzzing and heavy vibrations beneath their feet.
Cole motioned for everyone to leave the
room, knowing verbal communication would be impossible. He switched off his helmet lantern, and once they were beyond earshot of the engine room, they slowed. Cole turned back to Archytas, unnerved that it followed so closely to the group. That it had a direct connection to the Daedalus worried him even more. Just why had it been hiding in the dark on an abandoned ship?
“Doc. What sort of help can your boy provide us?”
Her voice through its mouth gave him the creeps. “I am in control of Archytas’s decision-making, but navigating the AI program is an insurmountable task. I suggest communicating directly to it, as I’ve given it specific orders to obey us both.”
I was hoping to avoid talking to a droid with my girlfriend’s voice, Cole thought. He wondered if Rig had heard, or even cared, that both he and Emmerich were not included. “Okay. Um, Archytas? Are you really going to help us repair our ship, or do you intend to seek revenge?”
“Revenge is a desire felt only by humans,” Archytas said cheerily, in its own male voice. “I cannot—nor would I ever consider to—exact any harm upon my master and her companions. I intend to assist your cause, and so I have taken the liberty to summon remaining repair drones to assess the damage.”
Cole nodded. Guess he forgot how close he was to crapping on his prime directive. “That’s good. Perhaps you can scrounge any usable supplies while you’re at it. In the meantime, let’s get back to the Icarus before Chrys does something stupid.”
~
He came alone, just as Chrys had predicted. Part of her had wanted him to, while the other part desired to toss him into the abyss. This recent indecision—on top of an already infuriatingly imbalanced mind—had taken control of her life. The whole of the Icarus’s journey brought her to this edge.
Once in her life she had come to such crossroads. This ship and the mother of the approaching man had jeopardized her sanity and the strength of her moral compass. Cole Musgrave did not know such things, and she never planned on telling him. It was her shame and cross to bear.
What she did plan on discussing was the end.