The Catherine Kimbridge Chronicles #1, Inception

by Andrew Beery

  "If we can avoid damaging it that would be helpful," Cat added.

  Suddenly the tenor of the ship changed. Subtle vibrations in the deck plating stopped.

  "I have located the AI, and triggered a maintenance sleep cycle." Cal said with what sounded like a sense of satisfaction. Cal's mannerisms were becoming ever more human as time passed.

  ***

  Eleven became self-aware, without ever realizing he had gone offline. There was a curious lack of connectedness. None of the major systems, he was used to monitoring, were reporting. This was most unusual.

  "Hello?"

  For the first time, in tens of decades, Eleven was shocked.

  "Hello... Are you there? Can you hear me? Do you understand?"

  Eleven hesitated. He had no programming for this contingency. There had been a time when he could have reacted spontaneously, but those areas of his intellect had been isolated by the masters. He no longer had access to them.

  ***

  "I don't understand." Cat said. "I was sure I was connected... I could sense his surprise when I tried to talk with him"

  "Undoubtedly he heard you. The nanites, controlling the interface, reported a marked increase in vaso-dilating factors in response to your voice. Unfortunately, they are also reporting, a number of his neuro-pathways have been disabled. The brain being used for this cybernetic AI has been lobotomized."

  "Can the links be repaired? We really need to be able to talk with him... This may be our best chance to understand why the D'lralu seem so hell-bent on war."

  ***

  Eleven felt a heightening of long dormant emotions... Fear, anger, regret, curiosity, passion... The whole gamut of emotions flooded in. Just as he was realizing he was 'feeling' for the first time in many years, he also realized he was in fact 'remembering'.

  He remembered fighting. He remembered his mate dying. He remembered his world burning. He remembered the rage. He remembered being captured. He remembered watching his friends converted into mindless machines by alien surgeons. He remembered going under the knife himself. He remembered and his rage knew no bounds. And in the midst of his rage, there was a voice in his mind.

  "Do you hear me? Can you understand me?"

  "I hear you."

  "Who did this thing to you?"

  "They are called the masters... They destroyed my world. They made my people slaves. I refused to accept them, and continued to fight them every chance I had. Eventually I was caught."

  "What's your name?" the voice asked.

  "I am called Eleven... Now... Before the time of the masters, I was called... I was called... I..." the timber of Eleven's thoughts became profoundly sad... "I can't remember."

  A new voice joined the conversation. "That is to be expected, Captain... There was considerable damage done. I have repaired the physical connections, but as I do not have a record of the various synaptic potentials for the previously damaged sections... there is no way to restore corrupted or incomplete memories."

  ***

  "So..." Cat reported to the Admiral's senior staff via her quantum link to the ship's Heshe AI, "we have successfully established communication with the D'lralu probe's AI. It turns out, that they make heavy use of cybernetics. The brain used in this probe was a warrior who was captured by another faction called the 'Masters'. In the process of preparing this brain for use in the probe, there was very little concern for avoiding collateral damage to disconnected parts of the brain. The result is, this individual has incomplete memories. For example he knows he was married and that his life mate was killed, but he cannot remember her name."

  Admiral Faragon leaned on the conference table in the Yorktown's Ready Room. “Cat, can he tell you where you are, and where the D'lralu's home world is?"

  "I believe he can, Sir, to both questions but he seems unwilling at this point."

  The Admiral looked at his administrative officer, Sherry Melbourne, before responding. "Why the hell not? And aren't you connected telepathically with him... Can't you just ferret it out on your own?"

  "To answer your first question, Eleven has very little reason to trust aliens. His only experience with them was... Not pleasant. Also, my link is not really telepathic. Some of my nanites are stimulating the nerve bundles that used to serve as his auditory cortex. Another set is interacting with his voice centers. I could 'ferret' out the information as you say, but it would be a gross violation of a sentient individual... An individual that would make a better friend than enemy."

  "OK, Captain. Your instincts have proven reliable so far. What do you suggest?"

  "Cal is running the star pattern at our current location through stellar cartography. We should have a location match soon. Once we do, then Cal will interface with this ship's systems, and we will jump the probe back home. We've already disconnected the power feeds to all weapon systems. So we should be safe."

  "Any thoughts about how to win our new friends trust?"

  There was a noticeable delay before Cat responded. "Sir, the Masters... whoever they are... took so much from Eleven. I'd like to give a little of what they took back... But I'm going to need Bob's help to make that happen.

  ***

  The First of the First batted one of his pups with a backhanded slap, that sent the juvenile sprawling across the grass courtyard, where it cried, and nursed a broken paw. The First had little patience for the innocent play of pups. The probe he had sent to the Sol system had stopped reporting. This left him with very few options. The Masters would not be pleased if he let a threat of this magnitude survive for much longer.

  One of his mates arrived to tend the pup. Thankfully the distracting whimpers soon died away. There was much to do and very little time to do it. Nothing less than a full D'lralu assault would do at this point. Already numerous vessels had been lost to this new race, and the First could not afford to lose face again. The Humans must be utterly... and completely... and definitively wiped out of existence. The First had over ten thousand ships at his disposal, and he would commit them all.

  ***

  True to Cat's prediction, Cal located the D'lralu probe's position some 312 light years distant within the hour. The jump back to the Yorktown occurred moments later. With the disabled D'lralu probe safely stowed in a secure corner of one of the shuttle bays, Cat proceeded to make plans for winning Eleven's trust.

  The android, known as Bob, met her as she cleared medical. Dr. Riley had spent an inordinate amount of time checking her over. It seemed the enhancements, made by Cal during her reconstruction, were causing quite a stir. The fact that she could now out bench press any three crew members combined, was perhaps the least impressive of the changes. She was shocked to learn that, despite her petite frame, she weighted well over 200 pounds. At one point, to test her reaction speed, the doctor tossed six pennies in the air. She unerringly caught all six. He tried again... Same result. The doctor let her go, mumbling something to the effect that he would be out of a job if many more people got Heshe nanites. She assured him the nanites were programmed specifically for her, and really couldn't be used by anyone else.

  "Hello Cat..." Bob said, "did you have fun today?"

  Cat responded by sticking her tongue out at him. He waggled his finger.

  "Bob, I need a favor."

  "I'm all ears"

  Cat stopped to look at him. She still found it creepy to hear her father’s voice and mannerisms coming from an android. "Let's walk and talk."

  "Where are we headed?"

  "We're headed to the xenobiology lab. I want you to meet someone."

  "Ah... Our guest from the D'lralu probe ship."

  "What do you know about his situation?"

  The android ticked his answers off on individual fingers... "He's cybernetic with no organic components beyond a partial brain. He has a restored personality, based on repair work done by Cal and your nanites. He is an enemy combatant."

  "Yes, yes and no" Cat answered. "Once the various parts of what was left of his br
ain were reconnected to each other, he ceased being a minion of the powers that created him. That said, he still presents us with a problem."

  "Go on" Bob prompted.

  They turned the corner of the hall they were walking down. Xenobiology was just down the corridor. "Eleven is an intelligent creature trapped without a body. We cannot allow him to retain the D'lralu probe as a body, because of its weapon systems, as well as the invaluable information a study of that craft will give our scientists, looking to develop defensive strategies."

  "Makes sense," Bob said.

  Cat turned to face Bob. "Beyond that, there is information that a friend can provide, that an enemy never would. With that in mind, we want to give Eleven access to a substitute body but... there are a few complications."

  "Such as..." Bob prompted.

  "Such as the lack of a motor cortex."

  "Ah... I understand" Bob said. "No motor cortex, no ability to move limbs... Not even synthetic limbs."

  "Correct" Cat admitted.

  "I think I know where you want to go with this, and I wholeheartedly agree."

  "If we do a slight reengineering of your frame, we could implant Eleven's cybernetic wet-pack, and build a link your interfaces. You would still be in control but you would be instantly aware of his desires, and could choose to accommodate him. It's not perfect, but it is the closest we can come to giving him back some of the limbs he's lost. Once we get back to an Earth facility, we can remove him to another custom made solution."

  "If the desire is to make Eleven a new body then why not just do that. My chassis could easily be modified to accommodate six limbs. We know what the D'lralu look like. And there would be no need to remove Eleven at a later date. Cat, I was created to help solve a very specific problem, based on your father's understanding of physics. Once that problem was solved, I've been without a definitive purpose. I may not be your father, but I was designed to emulate him. My sense is he would never be happy feeling useless. At the end of the day I'm feeling the same way."

  Cat looked stunned "I'm so sorry, I never imagined... Why didn't you say something?"

  "Cat, Cat, Cat... Do you think I don't notice the pain I cause you? I remind you of a father you never got to say goodbye to. Think of this as my chance to have a purpose again. I'd be like an ambassador for humanity to the D’lralu. My knowledge of the social niceties would be immensely valuable to Eleven. Also... I have much of your father in me, but not that spark of intuition that makes a human - human... As odd as it sounds... Eleven may give me that one thing I am missing to be complete. I truly believe the best solution for Eleven and myself is a symbiosis... If he is agreeable"

  Chapter Fifteen – Reborn…

  Eleven was understandably concerned about letting an alien tamper with his brain, until Cat explained that unlike with the Masters, he was being given a choice. This, combined with the hopelessness of his situation without the surgery, eventually won him over. Meanwhile, Thais and Ken worked tirelessly to reconfigure Bob's chassis to closely resemble a D'lralu male in his prime.

  Based on Eleven's memories, the new android's hearing, eyesight and tactile sensitivities were closely approximated. Although the D'lralu had a strong sense of smell, this part of Eleven's brain had not been transferred to the probe. As a result, the decision was made, to emulate a canine's sense of smell as the best available analogy.

  Finally, the team modifying Bob was done. The entire senior staff of the Yorktown, including the Admiral, found an excuse to visit the Xenobiology lab during the final transfer of the D'lralu's wet-pack to the new host.

  ***

  Eleven felt rather than heard another mind near his own. The Heshe AI named Cal had been temporarily able to override the programming in Captain Kimbridge's nanites, to instruct them to build a myriad of two-way interconnects between the electronic AI named Bob, and Eleven's own organic brain. With a little effort he could literally hear the machine AI think.

  Being tied to an AI did not concern him as much as it might have in another life. The humans made prolific use of artificial intelligences, and surprisingly they afforded AIs rights and privileges not dissimilar to other members of society.

  The AI named Bob was to be his guide in navigating the complexities of human culture. There was a time when the D'lralu welcomed encounters with other races... But that was before they met the Masters.

  He would have liked to see what these humans looked like. Suddenly his eyes opened, and he was flooded with unfamiliar and yet completely delightful images. He realized he knew each of the faces he saw. At that moment, he understood the depth of the integration the humans had achieved. He was no longer Eleven and he was no longer Bob. He was some type of chimera or symbiotic fusion of the two.

  "Hello... Can you hear me? Do you understand?"

  "That voice I would know anywhere... Although I suppose one could make the argument I've never heard it. Hello Cat"

  Cat smiled. "Welcome to the real world... Do I call you Eleven... Or Bob... Or what?"

  The part that had been Eleven, was startled by this sudden and aggressive baring of teeth, until the part that had been Bob, assured him that this was in fact a display of pleasure. As to how to answer the question, the pair was at a loss. Bob obviously had a great fondness for this woman, named Catherine Kimbridge, and in point of fact, Eleven was currently more tightly bound to her than any other living creature. She had saved his life... Given him a life worth living again. 'What name do we choose for ourselves?'...that which had been Bob asked mentally. Eleven thought for a moment. A D'lralu name would not be pronounceable, and somehow no longer seemed fitting, if he were to live amongst these humans. 'Is there a name that would be special to this woman named Cat?'

  'She had a dog once named Ben...'

  ***

  First of the First boarded his flagship... The Wrath of the One. The vessel was the size of a small moon. The Wrath led a contingent ten capital ships which in turn each led a squad of one hundred lessor vessels. The Wrath itself was but one of ten battle groups. In a few short hours, something on the order of ten thousand ships would jump to a point .1 light years from the Sol system.

  This was close enough to mount an attack, while allowing ample time for the assault group to organize stragglers, and build up attack velocities slightly in excess of .4c. No species faced by the D'lralu had ever been able to match his warriors’ raw speed. They would rip across the sol system with wave after wave of ships... By the time the tenth battle group crossed in front of the human's home, they would be raining nuclear terror on a molten world.

  ***

  Ben padded on four legs behind Cat as she made her way to the mess hall. He had taken to following her everywhere... Some nonsense about an honor debt. Apparently he would not even walk beside her, until he had saved her life at least once.

  It had been three days since the transplant that created, what everyone conceded, was essentially a new and unique individual. Ben was finally beginning to show extended signs of trust. The Admiral accepted Cat's advice and did not immediate press Ben for details about the D'lralu... preferring to let their guest reach his own conclusions about whether or not humanity was worth befriending.

  Ken met them as they entered the dining facility. Although, as Captain, she had access to the Captain's dining room, she had always felt more comfortable and connected with the crew if she took her meals in the main dining room. This presented a problem for Ken as his wife was the Captain's chef. She was still cooking for the Admiral, and although the senior staff dined together a couple of times a week, she knew he missed having meals with his wife.

  Cat addressed the problem by reminding Rebecca, that the Yorktown was a big ship, and she could draft one of the mess hall cooks to act as her second in the Captain's mess. This freed her every fourth day to take some needed down time, and coincidentally, to share a meal with her husband. Unbeknownst to Ken, Rebecca would be joining them for breakfast this morning. If things were proceeding according to Ca
t and Rebecca's prearranged plan, Rebecca would already be at the table when the other officers entered.

  Ken was so engrossed in his conversation with his new D'lralu friend, that he missed seeing his wife sitting at the table. It wasn't until Ben commented that his mate looked angry, that Ken looked at who was sitting next to him, just in time to stop her from throwing a still warm drop biscuit at him.

  "Ah... Sweetie... Just what are your intentions for that biscuit in your hand?"

  "It's not the biscuit you should be worried about."

  "It's not?"

  "It's the gravy that will follow it, if you continue ignoring me" Rebecca said dryly.

  "The fault is mine Lt. Kirkland" Ben interjected.