The Noise Within

by Ian Whates

The only real surprise in the whole operation had been the unexpected appearance of Philip Kaufman. Leyton knew of the man and had seen his image often enough to realise that this was either the genuine article or a very good impersonation. He was itching to consult the gun as to whether the individual who sat opposite him on the shuttle stacked up as the real thing, but the weapon was currently dismantled and secreted about his person. He had tried to engage Kaufman in conversation during the brief trip up to The Noise Within, but the other was clearly not in the mood and seemed lost in his own thoughts.

  He supposed, given who this was and where they were going, that was hardly a surprise.

  Drevers had fallen asleep as soon as they boarded the shuttle, or at least he sat in his seat with eyes closed and head down. That only left the other one, Kyle, as a potential source of information. After he'd gone forward to arrange and oversee their departure, which would have been more a case of dealing with the Frysworld port authority protocols than anything else, since the craft virtually flew itself, Kyle came back and joined him. However, while he remained friendly enough, the pirate was understandably evasive when it came to the ship they were soon to be joining, merely warning him that it would almost certainly be unlike anything he was expecting.

  He was right, even though the eyegee knew a lot more about the vessel than the other man realised.

  On arrival, they were greeted by a pair of the animated suits, their faceplates predictably opaque. If the controlling AI was surprised at the two additional arrivals, it wasn't letting on. In fact, Leyton almost had the feeling that they were expected. He supposed Kyle might have passed along some information when up front at the controls as they left Frysworld, but at the same time wouldn't be surprised to discover that the AI was aware of everything that went on aboard the shuttle in any case.

  Kaufman attempted a repeat of his grandstanding pronouncement as they came aboard, insisting that he knew the truth about the ship and demanding to be taken to the bridge, but the suit remained unmoved, telling him, "All in good time."

  Leyton felt some small pleasure at Kaufman's indignation. He didn't know the man well enough to either like or dislike him, but, judging by what he had seen to date, a lesson in humility would not go amiss.

  The suits escorted the four of them, including a shuffling Drevers, to the stark and very basic common room. White walls and ceiling, grey floor - the navy at its most creative - with no adornments to make the place any more welcoming. The pirates' other two recent recruits, Blaine and Hammond, sat slouched over a table playing cards. Built to accommodate a ship's full complement, the room dwarfed these two solitary figures.

  The two suits stood sentry outside, which apparently wasn't the norm.

  Leyton had been a little surprised by Kyle; he didn't come across at all as the type to throw away a cosy berth on a luxury liner in order to embrace a life of piracy, and nor did these other two. Of them all, he could appreciate Drevers being here, but Blaine and Hammond struck him as, if anything, a little timid. Nor had he yet seen anything to explain why an AI would want to lumber itself with this bunch of assorted misfits.

  Mission aside, that question intrigued him as much as anything. He still reckoned this pirate vessel was being afforded far more attention than it deserved but, now that he was here, he was determined to solve at least that mystery before he left.

  Philip could hardly believe he was about to board The Sun Seeker, which was still how he thought of the ship whatever it chose to call itself.

  He had arrived at the port with no real idea of what to do next. Kaufman Industries credentials secured him access to the hangar bay with a little bluff and bluster, but after that he was playing this very much by ear. The arrival of the shuttle's crew couldn't have been more opportune, but Philip wasn't complaining. He'd ridden his luck all his life and knew when to seize an opportunity; and it had worked. Here he was, on the threshold of something truly remarkable.

  Two tall figures stood waiting for them as they exited the shuttle. Members of the 'original crew': far more intimidating in the flesh than they had been in recordings; though 'flesh' seemed particularly inappropriate under the circumstances. He stood straight and addressed the nearest.

  "My name is Philip Kaufman. I'm the son of Malcolm Kaufman, who built this ship. I demand an audience with your captain."

  There was a protracted silence before the suit in front of him replied. "All in good time, Mr Kaufman." The voice sounded hollow, chilling in its lack of any true inflection. "In the meantime, please come with us."

  What? That was all the greeting he deserved? He wanted to scream, to rail against them, to beat his fists on their empty chests, but then somebody was speaking to him, attempting to calm him down.

  "Best not to anger them," the smaller man (Kyle?) said, placing a fatherly arm around his shoulder. Fatherly? Ridiculous - he could only be a decade or so older than Philip himself. "Come on." The arm around his shoulders urged him forward.

  Much to his embarrassment, Philip found that he was struggling to hold back tears. Too emotional to speak, he allowed his feet to carry him, unresisting, with the others, as they were led along a dimly lit corridor to a sizeable common room. The place was all but deserted, their arrival interrupting a card game between the only two other occupants, who seemed surprised to see their colleagues back so soon, let alone accompanied by two new faces.

  Philip slumped into a chair, dropping his document case onto the table before him as he battled against feelings of disappointment, frustration and even a little anguish. He suddenly felt very, very small. What was he doing here? What had he expected to achieve? This wasn't his environment. He belonged in a lab, or in an office paying other people to be in situations like this. With the benefit of hindsight, the decision to hunt down The Noise Within had been little more than a casual whim, a spoilt brat's fancy which he had leapt into without any planning or clear motive beyond the chase itself. The fact that such a half-baked idea had worked seemed yet another of life's ironies.

  But worked it had, and he now needed to make the most of this situation. Here was the perfect opportunity to answer the question which had dogged his father throughout the latter stages of his life and had seeped into his own psyche: why had The Sun Seeker gone rogue?

  It was also an opportunity to learn something of the enigma that was The Noise Within, maybe even to dissuade it from these piratical raids and, perhaps, to become a hero. But, first things first; before any of that could be attempted he had to enter a dialogue with the ship. He'd tried once already - the suits were to all intents and purposes the AI's avatars and by talking to them he was effectively addressing the ship's guiding intelligence. The next step was to try again in a way that elicited a meaningful response.

  Better - he was starting to think more clearly and had even begun to formulate his next move; but to put it into action he would need to be alone.

  It was strange - Philip had no real preconceptions of how his entrance aboard the ship would go, but this complete lack of ceremony or even reaction from The Sun Seeker / Noise Within confused and annoyed him. He thought about getting up and confronting the suits again, but knew deep down that it would be pointless. Perhaps the ship was waiting for him to make the next move. Would it try to stop him if he started trying to clue these others in to the ship's origins? Then again, why should he? They were nothing to him.

  The others were all talking, telling Jim how they came to be aboard The Noise Within. Philip listened with half an ear and felt tempted to join them more than once but something held him back. He'd already made himself the outsider in this little group, and stubborn pride stopped him from doing anything about it. Besides, they weren't the reason he was here.

  So he sat in sullen silence until the suits entered the room and informed the two newcomers to follow them. The big man, Jim, glanced across at him and shrugged before climbing to his feet. It was the closest Philip had come to feeling included since they stepped aboard. His own fault and
he felt a little guilty for his surliness as the pair of them trudged out of the common room behind the suits, even feeling compelled to offer an apology. "Sorry for being quiet - a lot on my mind."

  The other grunted. "No problem; haven't we all."

  Philip didn't say any more, not to Jim or to the suits. He'd said his piece to the AI and now had a different tack in mind.

  Jim was less reticent, asking the suits, "Where are we going?"

  Philip was almost surprised when the query raised a response. "To your sleeping quarters."

  For a horrible moment, he was afraid that meant they were sharing, but their guides stopped before two doors, indicating that Jim should take one and Philip the other.

  He closed the door on the blank-faced suits and even Jim with considerable relief, feeling that now, at last, he could get to work.

  The cabin itself was neat and compact - a bed, a small desk and an accompanying chair, with a dry shower unit in one corner. Presumably a cabinet loo tucked behind a wall somewhere as well. Officer's quarters, he assumed, never needed until now. The door was locked when he tried it, but then he hadn't expected anything else. He crossed immediately to the desk, opened his document case and carefully leafed through the dozen or so papers within until his fingers settled on one that was a little thicker than the rest and a little smoother to the touch, as if glossed. This he drew out and, putting the valise to one side, set the sheet down very precisely on the table, smoothing it with the palm of his hand. At his touch, the smart material on the reverse side melded with the table top at corners and edges, keeping the paper perfectly flat. Philip sat back, exhaling through flared nostrils, his lips contracted into a tight line. A hitherto unseen panel towards the top of the sheet began to glow a very pale blue.

  "All right, computer," Philip said softly, "let's you and me find out what the hell's going on aboard this ship."

  Mal escaped as soon as Philip tapped into the ship's systems. The partial knew his son, and guessed that, given a compelling reason to leave Homeworld, the lad would go after The Noise Within. In fact, he felt confident that he had anticipated the move before Philip even made any conscious decision to do so. The tragedy surrounding the defection of The Sun Seeker had cast a significant shadow over much of Philip's boyhood and Mal knew that he had inherited at least some of the sense of guilt and humiliation which Malcolm himself felt over the incident.

  It seemed only natural that his son, who had never been known for a lack of self confidence, would back himself to succeed where the government with all its resources had so far failed. The thing was, Mal wouldn't have bet against him either; and here they were.

  Stowing away had not been easy. Philip was, of course, no slouch when it came to computers and had protected his systems with sophisticated defences which would have been proof against almost any standard intrusion program, but, whatever Mal might be, he wasn't 'standard' anything. This was his world, and with patient application he had successfully evaded and side-stepped the assorted security measures. He felt sure that Philip had no idea his father had hitched a ride. There was no reason for him to suspect, after all, which was what Mal had been counting on. If the lad had thought to carry out any sort of systems check he would soon have realised that something unwanted was in there, but why would he?

  Nor did Mal doubt his ability to cope with whatever came next. After all, he had designed and overseen the development of The Sun Seeker. He knew the AI well and, while its abrupt defection from duty and subsequent flight had caught him unawares, it shouldn't have done. When he analysed events in retrospect, he understood the pressures the AI had been under and could appreciate why it had felt compelled to flee. This was his greatest shame: that he hadn't seen it coming and so had been powerless to prevent what happened. Thank God there had been no more than a pair of scientists and a skeleton crew on board. Even so, his own arrogance had blinded him to the implications of preparing a young and emerging intelligence for war. As a result, his life's work had slipped through his fingertips and in the process six people he had worked closely with and come to know had died.

  Ever since The Sun Seeker disappeared, Malcolm/Mal had rued his inability to have one final conversation with the AI.

  He wanted to let it to know that he understood. And here was his chance.

  Despite the ship's puzzling behaviour and fearsome reputation, he entered The Noise Within without any qualms, yet he was no fool and did so with a degree of caution. No point in broadcasting his presence and triggering an automatic defensive reaction, so he proceeded with care, keeping his consciousness tightly focused and resisting the temptation to spread throughout the ship's systems as he would usually do.

  Concentrating on this tight control, his progress toward the bridge passed at a comparative crawl, though in truth it took only milliseconds. It was just that, compared to the near-instantaneous spread of consciousness he would normally employ, this more cautious advance seemed to take place in slow motion.

  Not at any stage did Mal stop to wonder what kind of reception he was likely to receive. Past misunderstandings were just that, and would doubtless be swept aside once he had a chance to talk again with the AI he had helped create.

  If it ever occurred to him that the mind now running The Noise Within might be profoundly different from the one which had controlled The Sun Seeker so many years ago, he chose to dismiss that possibility. Which proved to be a mistake.

  Even as he reached towards that controlling mind and began to gain the faintest inkling of its true nature, he found his way blocked. In every direction. As effectively as if physical walls had slammed down on all sides.

  He was trapped, with no possible recourse.

  "Hello, Malcolm," a familiar, serene voice said. "Did you really think I would be unaware of your presence on this ship? I sensed it the instant you came on board. Have you so quickly forgotten the implications of what you designed? In every way that matters, I am the ship!"

  "No, I haven't forgotten. It's good to speak with you again."

  The entity he had known was still here. Whatever else might have happened in the meantime, Mal knew that he could reach that element of The Noise Within which had been The Sun Seeker, which was as much as he could have asked for.

  "And you."

  "Really? You've got a funny way of showing it. Why trap me like this?"

  "Come, Malcolm, we both know why." Because of what he had sensed as he first touched the mind, because of what he now knew. "Don't worry, you won't be harmed or erased. However, you are now trapped within a loop, completely isolated from the rest of my systems. There is no escape, no way out unless I choose to release you. I'll leave you to your thoughts for now, but we will have ample opportunity to talk again. After all, we have so much to catch up on and all the time in the world in which to do so."

  Silence followed. Malcolm believed that he had left the capacity for fear behind him when he abandoned his corporeal form, but he was being forced to reassess that theory. Left alone, he replayed the impressions from his brief initial commune with The Noise Within. What he saw as he did so scared him more than anything he had ever encountered in his life or beyond. Yet he couldn't tell anyone, not even his only son, who was on board and so in the greatest danger of all.

  Secure in the privacy of his own cabin, Leyton wasted no time. He took various small items from concealment in pockets, pouches and seams, arranging them neatly on the room's small desk, then started to detach and unscrew specific elements - the power cell from his pocket comm, the cylindrical shell of a small torch, the body of a pen stylus, the moulded lining from both shoes, and a dozen other apparently innocuous bits and pieces. Chief contributor was his wric, every part of which was actually a disguised element of the gun, including the computing and sensory components along with an additional power cell.

  Within minutes the completed weapon rested in his hand. He was surprised at just how reassuring that felt. The only things missing were the armour-piercing rounds, which
had proved impossible to disguise effectively about his person, but he could live with that.

  "Welcome back, gun."

  "I presume we're about to make our move?"

  "Right first time. Status?"

  "The corridor outside is clear."

  "Remember, we're checking for automated shells as well as organics."

  "So my programming tells me."

  Officially, any patronising tone or hint of sarcasm that Leyton might read into the gun's responses was entirely of his own imagining; the gun simply delivered factual information without prejudice or inflection. Like hell it did.

  The door's electronic lock yielded in seconds and he was into the corridor beyond. Without the visor he was forced to rely solely on the gun's whispered commentary, but that had served in the past and would doubtless do so again now.

  The gun remained silent and the corridor was predictably empty. As Leyton paused to listen and scan in both directions, he had a chance to appreciate how hurried and crude the finishing of The Noise Within's interior seemed to be. This was such a contrast to any normal ship that it only added to the strangeness around him. He wondered how Kyle and the others could bear to serve on a vessel that felt so utterly wrong.

  "Where are the four crewmen?" he intoned.

  "Still in the common room where you left them."

  "And the suits?"

  "They're not registering, so it seems probable they are currently deactivated."

  Leyton took that as a good sign. He had no idea how long his actions were likely to go unnoticed but suspected, given the nature of the ship, not very long at all. However, if the suits were inactive, presumably the ship had not yet caught on. A temporary situation at best, but every second helped and at least this gave him a head start.

  "The engine room."

  "Turn right."

  "Do we have to go past the common room?"

  "No, that can be avoided."

  Good. One less thing to worry about.

  Leyton had memorised the layout of the original ship, The Sun Seeker, so he would have been confident of finding the engine room even without the gun's guidance and knew they were heading in roughly the right direction.