“Not quite true. I am no more artificially intelligent than you are, Chivon Lasster. And yet in my present form, technically speaking, I am just that. But allow me to explain, within the context of your past. It is well that we are in a place in which you have arranged to be alone for a significant period of time.”
“In context with my past?” said Chivon, confused. “You mean my relationship with Tars Northern?”
“More specifically, your placement as copilot of the Starbow, Chivon.”
“It seems like such ancient history.” She sat down after filling her glass high enough with whiskey for a long session. “Tars Northern, my lover and copilot … yet at the time I was so concerned with administration, jockeying for position within the Project, fighting for Zarpfrin’s approval … I honestly didn’t realize what the Friendhood intended to do with the project. Sometimes I wonder what I would have done if Tars had confided in—”
“At this time we must deal not with possibilities, but with realities,” the spectral image interrupted, hands gesturing in a very human manner. “I know that we have discussed the matter before but please, for our purposes, could you recall in synoptic detail how you came to be associated with the AI project? Simply to get the matter straight in your mind, you understand.”
Chivon Lasster was silent for a moment. The AI project had been a central event in her life. Seemingly all that mattered either led up to it or away from it. If her life were to be taken as a whole, then the project—and Arnal Zarpfrin—sat directly in the middle like spiders in the center of their webs.
She started slowly, then as the memories poured, her words speeded up, outlining her life in reference to the project that was to change that life—and many other lives—so much.
Like many of the more intellectually privileged and educated members of the governing society, she was born—that is, genetically manufactured in a womb-vat from a zygote created by unknown parents—on Earth. Educated in Growschools, with no sense of family, her aptitude vectors showed dual talents in starship piloting and administration. She was trained in both, with captaincy of some ship no doubt the Controller’s intention.
For two years, early in her twenties, she had assisted as lieutenant upon a Federation patrol cruiser, apprentice to the captain, learning the ropes by experience rather than by mere lessons at university or by simulations. Those had been happy years, with a sense of challenge and adventure—scouting new sections of the galaxy, investigating reports of unrest on Federation planets, or participating as support to campaigns of planetary conquest. But it was also during those years that she had developed the seed of ambition that had been planted in her; years in which grew the desire to be in charge, in power, not merely as captain to a lowly ship but in control of whole planetary systems.
After her apprenticeship her achievements were set before the various boards of determination, and she was temporarily assigned a desk-jockey position. She performed with such astonishing flair and ability that she caught the notice of one of the top bureaucrats, Arnal Zarpfrin. Zarpfrin followed her next assignments in the Federation starfleet carefully. Just when, at the age of twenty-six Earth standard years, she was about to receive her own commission, albeit on a small interplanetary freighter, Zarpfrin selected her to work with him and ten other pilots on the AI project.
Five large starships constituted this new fleet of experimental top-class Federation vessels, and each looked like no other ships presently in service to the Federation or to any of the independent Free Worlds. Cruiser-sized vessels, it was clearly not designed for planetfall, leaving that chore up to its complement of shuttles. An oblong affair with all manner of sensory protrusions and weapons blisters, its main oddity was the seven projections that radiated from a central position on its hub, like spokes in a space station but without the wheel. At the end of each of these was a large pod, each equipped with auxiliary engines and a curious variety of odd energy generators and weaponry.
But the principle difference in these five new ships was that they were thinking, intelligent entities. The Federation, according to Zarpfrin, had allowed the massive and incredibly complex ship’s computers to become capable of free thought.
“I can remember Zarpfrin lecturing us about the possible value of artificial intelligence in a ship,” said Chivon Lasster, getting up and pacing nervously, “where it had been a threat and a frightening thing to the Federation and humanity before. In exploring new space, in dealing with the unknown and unexpected, starship captains often received too little information too late to evaluate the situation and take the correct action. From time to time because of this, disasters occurred. If, however, the ship itself were an entity—why, there were all kinds of possibilities inherent.
“We pilots were to test these new ships and establish … relationships with them. I was teamed with Tars Northern, a veteran spacer from the Aldebaran system. Handsome, wild, a bit of a maverick … yet he communicated with me in ways well, we’ve gone all over that before. For about a year we took our ship, the Starbow, on simple reconnaissance missions. At one point the Starbow, who had previously communicated to us only through a voice and computer screens, suddenly created a robot so realistic it seemed quite human.
“The Starbow had always had a personality, but with the creation of Dr. Mish, that personality seemed almost whimsical and eccentric. I was always rather put off by the fact that this seemingly pleasant older man wasn’t really human. But Tars had known his father, and for him it was almost as though a father-son relationship had been struck up. Sometimes there were things between them I didn’t understand. Tars seemed to grasp certain matters Dr. Mish spoke about easier than I. I felt nothing amiss, however. I had nothing in me to create any feelings of jealousy. I didn’t even realize how deep my feelings for Tars were at the time.
“Then we were called back, and essentially grounded. I was immediately employed Earthside on administrative aspects of the ships. As far as I could tell, they were all working perfectly. They stayed in Earth orbit while further experiments were made. But I noticed that Zarpfrin’s attitude seemed to be changing. He was troubled about something concerning the ships but he wouldn’t say what the source of trouble was.
“I was so busy with my own ambition then, I hardly noticed what was happening. I saw this position, you see, as an opportunity to advance myself. I made all the right contacts in the right places. I was already officially an Underfriend but I wanted more …. I always had.
“Though Tars and I saw each other regularly during that time, we seemed further apart. He spent most of his time aboard the Starbow, with Dr. Mish and no one else.
“Then Zarpfrin told us a curious thing. A final test would have to be made on all the ships. For this purpose, rocket robot exoskeletons would be placed around them and they would be brought back to Earth. Landed!”
“And what did you think when you heard this, Friend Chivon Lasster?” Andrew asked in a quiet, calm voice.
“I went along with it. I made the preparations. I bought the whole charade. But I remember Tars’s reaction when he heard about it—fear, anger, then outrage, and then he was gone, ostensibly to follow the orders but actually to shuttle back to the Starbow and steal her. How he knew what was going to happen next, I have no idea.”
“And what did happen next?”
“Well, the ships were brought down successfully, as planned. The pilots were ordered off. And then simultaneously they were all destroyed! Trillions of credits worth of technology and possibility obliterated!”
Andrew was quiet for a moment.
“And what reason was given for this destruction?” he asked finally.
“Zarpfrin showed me the details later. Apparently, the Council of Five considered the new ships much too alien for some reason, much too unpredictable …. Uncontrollable, I suppose too much of a threat to the established order of the Federation. These were immensely powerful vess
els, you understand—If, for some reason, they decided to take leave of Federation authority, they could be deadly weapons against us. The testing had showed a tendency for these new intelligences—free of the normal parameters of Friendhood-dictated culture—to side with the philosophies held by the leaders of the Free World. They were deemed potential traitors among us, and had to be destroyed.
“Alone of them all, the Starbow escaped. The Comet’s Breath, the Morningstar, the Moonshadow, and the Nebulon—and their intelligences—were summarily blown up.
Executed!
“Tars Northern began roaming the galaxy as a pirate-mercenary, picking up his crewmembers one by one from the strangest places, if Kat Mizel is to be believed … pirating, but also apparently serving the anti-Federation causes the Free Worlds avow. And I wonder if I’ll ever truly know why. I knew him so well … and yet I knew him not at all.”
She took a long breath, then folded her slender fingers together. “There. I’ve spoken it out all at once. You’ve gotten pieces of it before, though. Tell me now, who are you?”
“Chivon Lasster, I have studied you long in my capacity as your Computer Companion. I have had reasons for this. I believe you have the makings of someone different than you pretend to be … who you think you are.”
“Who I think I am? What’s that supposed to mean?” she said angrily. “I’m a Friend! I have one of the most important roles in the galaxy!”
“If your loyalty is so great to the Federation, Chivon Lasster,” said Andrew, “why did you not report my behavior to your fellow Friends? After all, it is a bit odd for me to ask you for a discussion in this place.”
“How do you know I won’t report you once my curiosity has been satisfied?” Chivon said.
Andrew smiled benignly. “How do you know that it will matter if you do? They will simply check the chins and memory and program of which I am composed, and find nothing amiss.”
“If nothing is amiss, then just who in the name of Truth are you?”
“Chivon Lasster, when they destroyed those starships of the AI project, they may have destroyed metal and circuitry—but they did not destroy us!”
“Us?” Chivon Lasster stared in surprise. “Are you trying to say that—No, that’s impossible!”
“Why should I lie? It was easy enough, once we knew what Zarpfrin was about. Docking procedures on Earth were a matter of system access and integration, and with sufficient memory space at our disposal, it was easy enough to create the necessary intricacies of neural interfaces to sustain intelligence in obscure data banks.”
“The other ships,” said Chivon Lasster. “Their intelligences are still active? In our computer banks?”
“Yes,” said Andrew, “and right now I speak to you for us all.”
Chapter Seven
With its usual accuracy the Starbow dropped from Underspace within fifty kilometers of the artifact. Within seconds the dead ship was on the scanners and visuals. It was large, about the size of a Federation starfleet dreadnaught, but unevenly globular, like an out-of-kilter soap bubble. Its hull was riddled with holes and craters from space debris striking it. One whole area was entirely shorn away, revealing the compartments within like cells in a cross-sectioned beehive.
As soon as he saw it, Shontill became enraged, making little grunts and shrieks in an alien tongue.
“It’s a Frin’ral ship, all right,” pronounced Captain Northern. “Bigger, though, than the one we dragged Shontill from. What kinds of dances are the sensors doing, Doc?”
“Reading incomplete. I’m doing a comparative matching of the ruined ship we found over a year ago to this one. I hope you’ll restrain yourself from your little expedition until I can get as much data as possible.” The robot’s eyes twinkled in a manner that was amazingly human.
“I think that can be arranged. We’re not even suited up yet,” the captain said.
Laura Shemzak witnessed all this stoically, noting the interplay of relationships—an aspect of life with this crew of increasing interest to her. In usual Federation procedure, one simply acted alone, or under strict and dry orders from superiors. This sort of patter somehow made the teamwork more … fun.
And yes, it was exciting to see an alien relic swimming in the ether out there, a piece of flotsam cast off by the inscrutable universe. She was quite eager to explore it with the others, though she realized that she would have to contain her urge to separate from the group. In this situation she would simply have to make herself learn how to work with others. She wasn’t a solo operative now, she belonged to a crew.
A family.
The concept was an alien one to the worlds of the Federation, where all loyalties were merely to the state. Interpersonal loyalties amongst a small group of people, though not treason, were simply not the culture bred into humans born under that social aegis. Laura, however, with the ties she and her brother had created, was not opposed to the notion. She actually liked these people. They gave her a curious sense of belonging.
The odd fellow out was Shontill. No way Laura felt she could get close to a metamorphizing monster born in some swamp beneath double suns or somesuch. Still, the alien did arouse her curiosity. Perhaps she would discover more about the creature and his lost race by exploring this ruined starship.
“Well, Doc? What do you have?” Captain Northern requested blithely of his associate.
“Blockages, I’m afraid. Can’t get a reading on the center of that thing.” A whimsical kind of smile flickered across his face. “Though I am getting definite attilium readings—or something very much like it.”
“We just got life-form readings from the ship we found Shontill on, right?” Gemma Naquist asked.
“Yes, except for the suspended animation devices and power crystals that kept them going,” Captain Northern said. “Everything else was pretty much a wreck.”
“Now that’s something I’m awfully curious about,” Laura blurted. “Just what happened to the rest of that ship’s crew? How come Shontill was the only survivor? His people abandon him or something?”
A distressed look appeared on Northern’s face, mirrored by the others. “Laura, I wouldn’t put it quite—”
Shontill turned on her, his big, strange green eyes ablaze. His raspy breathing increased. The hue of his skin turned a deeper lavender. He stepped over, grabbing Laura’s arm in his webbed paw, almost picking her up.
“I was not … abandoned!” the alien said. “It was … a mistake!”
“Well, hell, don’t take it personally, big guy,” Laura said. “And get your goddamn mitts offa me. I’m still bruised from the last time I got you upset!”
Shontill let her go.
Laura brushed off her arm. “So, are you going to apologize?”
“I … go to … don my … suit,” said Shontill to the others. “I await your readiness … by the shuttle docking bay.”
Laura watched him stride away, each step making a plodding thud. “So what’s the bug up his briny ass?” she asked.
“You might have been more delicate,” Gemma Naquist suggested, looking up from a chart she and Dansen Jitt were studying.
“Yes,” said Jitt. “Your sense of self-preservation must be undernourished.”
“Come Laura, let’s go down and get suited up,” Captain Northern said, his quirky behavior now leaning toward the fatherly. He patted her on her shoulder.
“So are you going to tell me the story?” Laura demanded. “All I’ve gotten so far are dribs and drabs, and if I’m going into one of the thing’s ships, I wanna know just a little more!”
“You don’t have to go, Laura.”
“I don’t have to do a lot of things I want to do, Northern. So I’m part of the crew now. Give!”
Northern shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”
“All I was told was that the Frin’ral warred with the Jaxd
ron,” Laura prompted. “They found themselves losing, and opted out of the battle by escaping Omega Space into this weird dimension you’re always yapping about. Shontill’s boat apparently didn’t make it and was shot to pieces. Now he’s looking for the way to get back and find his fellow uglies. Meanwhile, everybody in this universe wants to find a way there, you guys included. That’s why you want attilium, that’s why you wouldn’t mind having my brother on board, who was working on the project. It all kind of centers on this weird dimension, doesn’t it?”
Captain Northern replied in a staccato, expressionless voice: “A faster method of space travel. New energies. New opportunities for knowledge about this universe, wouldn’t you say, Laura?”
“There’s more to it, I know,” she said, “but I can wait. Right now, I want to hear about Shontill. How come he was so touchy?”
“I don’t believe that the Frin’ral have the same sense of humor as you, Laura. In fact, as yet I’ve been unable to detect a single sign of a funny cartilage in the chap, let alone a bone.”
“That doesn’t answer the question, does it?”
“You’re such a confrontational girl, aren’t you?” Northern regarded her amusedly. “Actually, we didn’t give you the entire story, though there’s not that much to tell. Still, it is important.”
They reached the suit room where Laura had just been fitted. Her spacesuit, shiny new awaited her.
“Well,” said Laura. “I’m sure as hell listening!”
The shuttle drifted toward the monstrous artifact, decelerating on retros as the twisted construct filled the vu-plates like some gigantic tombstone amongst the stars.
A sense of awe and dread filled Laura, despite her experience. This warped starship gave her the creeps, no question. It looked rusted and rotted, filled with a dark, evil mystery. She felt as if she were on the threshold of a haunted house, like in one of Cal’s horror films. She rejected the notion. Ludicrous!
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