by S. H. Jucha
“What are the statuses of relationships among the races within the federacy?” Alex asked.
“By our understanding of these terms, Alex, you imply a cooperative nature,” Sargut replied. “That isn’t an accurate representation. We would suggest you find a term that expresses the tacit understanding of prisoners, who realize that there is no need for internal competition. We’re bound together by a common desperateness. It could be no worse than a biological infection that exists within the entire host that Artifice rules.”
“When was the last attempt made to remove Artifice’s program?” Miriam asked.
“You’re similar in appearance to Julien,” Sargut remarked. “Are you of the same nature?”
“I’m also a SADE,” Miriam replied. “My name is Miranda, and my specialty is engineering.”
“Thank you, Miriam, for the clarification,” Sargut said gracefully. “The history of our race is stored on discrete devices, inaccessible by Artifice. The records indicate a ship was eliminated generations ago, by our count. Soon afterwards, that race was reduced, and none has visited that system since then.”
Alex’s hand went to his chin, and he dropped his head, while he considered what the Omnians had learned.
Sargut muted his end of the comm and hissed at the others around him for quiet. He could hear his multiple hearts beating strongly. His race had sought a means of freeing itself from Artifice’s grip, and this alien fleet and its leader represented the best opportunity that had been found in many generations.
“Sargut, we need time to think,” Alex said, focusing on the vid pickup. “How long can you stay out here?”
“When we located you, Alex, word was sent to Tranimus, the fleet’s grand commander, to request a replacement ship. The difference between our expected return and our replacement’s arrival should be so slight as to be inconsequential.”
“Good,” Alex replied. “We’ll hail your ship when we’re ready to resume communications.”
“Can I ask what time frame this will entail?” Sargut asked. The alien’s voice clearly expressed some trepidation.
Julien supplied Alex with a calculation of the Toral’s cycle, the Toralian home world, in terms of the Omnian chronometer.
“We tend to be a collection of active individuals,” Alex replied. “We’ll contact you within one-and-a-half Toral cycles.”
-2-
What Now?
Tatia was about to voice her opinion in the discussion that ensued after Sargut’s contact, when chronometers warned the Omnians of meal time. Her stomach grumbled in protest at a delay, which would continue the lengthy conversation, and soon, every New Terran-born individual followed suit.
“It appears our discussion will have to wait,” Renée remarked, laughing. She hooked Alex’s arm, and added, “Come, my love. Let’s fuel that lithesome physique of yours.”
Alex grinned at the idea that his massively muscled, heavy-worlder body could be considered lithesome.
Servers rearranged tables in the meal room by signaling nanites in the table’s stems to release the decking. After relocating them to accommodate Alex’s group, the nanites were signaled again and the stems were wedded to the deck.
Silence reigned, while the heavy-worlders, such as Alex, Tatia, Franz, and Mickey, consumed numerous portions, compared to their slender Méridien cousins.
The SADEs waited patiently for everyone to finish, while they engaged in an intense, but silent, discussion about what they heard from the Toralians. Most important, they projected futures based on the steps that might be taken. Few positive outcomes were projected, which induced grave concerns.
Alex wiped a serving dish with a roll, popped the bread in his mouth, and chewed contentedly. Then, he washed the final bit of his meal down with large swallows of thé.
As servers cleared dishes, Renée glanced at Tatia. “You were about to say, Admiral,” she offered.
“This is a no-win situation,” Tatia said definitively. “We can’t help them.”
“Why not?” Alex asked.
“Because you’d have to be on the ship to do anything,” Tatia retorted. “It would be akin to standing next to Faustus, while it investigated Artifice’s program, and we know how that turned out for that AI.”
In an afterthought, Tatia glanced at the SADEs. “Apologies, I didn’t mean it to sound harsh,” she said.
“I can agree with your assessment of the danger,” Z replied, “although I can’t support your conclusion. Yes, the operation is fraught with risk, but I can’t conceive of a better opportunity in which to attempt removal of Artifice’s control.”
“I agree,” Miranda added. “We’ve an isolated ship and a willing host, who can provide us with the details we need to understand how the master code operates to eliminate ships.”
“Logically, we’ve only two choices, as I see it,” Alex said quietly. “We either learn how to eliminate Artifice’s control or we discover a means of eliminating Artifice.”
“Thousands of ships, tens of thousands of domes, satellites, power plants, and other devices,” Julien commented, reminding the group of the challenge that awaited Alex’s first choice.
“And fleets of giant battleships protecting every approach to Artifice’s location,” Reiko riposted.
“Daunting choices,” Julien agreed.
“I would have liked to think there was a third way,” Renée said. “But after witnessing Artifice’s reaction to our freighter, when you didn’t comply with its demand to build it an avatar, I agree that Artifice will never willingly relinquish his domination.”
“The Sisterhood would like to join this discussion,” Miranda said. She opened her mouth and relayed the communication that was funneled through Miriamal, the sister who was embedded in the Freedom’s comm system.
“In some instances, I’m sharing a majority opinion, and in others, consensus has been reached,” Miriamal said.
“I’d hear the consensus opinions first,” Alex said.
“The Sisterhood believes that the Toralian ship should be investigated,” Miriamal said. “Furthermore, based on the initial conversation with Sargut, we believe that we know how to neutralize Artifice’s executing program.”
“How?” Julien asked.
“This is where we enter the realm of varying opinions,” Miriamal replied.
Alex leaned back and smiled. On the one hand, the sisters were sure they could eliminate the dangerous code, but on the other, they didn’t agree on how it could be done.
“Obviously, a member of the Sisterhood expects to be transported to the Dark Whispers and connected to the ship’s bridge controls,” Mickey supplied.
“You’re partially correct, Mickey,” Miriamal replied. “What the Sisterhood envisions is similar to what Luther designed to handle the Nua’ll’s malicious code. A sister would be inserted into the primary access point of the ship’s bridge control.”
“That insertion might activate the code?” Mickey theorized.
“There is a method that manages that possibility,” Miriamal replied.
“We’re getting too deep in the details,” Alex said. “What’s the overall idea?”
“Implant a sister into the ship’s control system, activate Artifice’s code, and intercept it,” Miriamal replied. “Then search the ship’s systems and eliminate the ancillary receptor programs.”
“If the sister is successful, wouldn’t she have to remain in place to protect the ship from future intrusions by Artifice?” Tatia asked.
“That’s assumed, Admiral,” Miriamal replied.
“I wanted to ask if a sister has volunteered for this duty,” Alex said, “but I believe you’ll tell me that every sister has chosen to be available.”
“As you surmise, Alex, they have,” Miriamal replied, “although it’s the consensus of the Sisterhood that the primary copies should remain in place on every ship. Only secondary copies will occupy the alien ships.”
Alex focused on Julien, and sent,
Alex sent.
“Mickey and Miriam,” Alex said, returning to the conversation, “engage Luther, and gather whatever material the Sisterhood and he believe will be necessary for this grand experiment.”
“Who’s going to the Toralian ship?” Tatia asked. Her heavy forearms were on the table, and she was leaning with intent toward Alex.
“One step at a time, Admiral,” Alex replied, locking eyes with Tatia. “Let’s see if the Toralians want to attempt this idea and under what circumstances.”
“Circumstances?” Renée queried.
“Consider the possibility that the Toralians would like to evacuate their ship before we try to remove Artifice’s code,” Alex replied.
“Oh,” Renée said softly. “The Freedom,” she added, implying it was the only ship that could accommodate the number of aliens who might inhabit the enormous battleship.
* * *
The Dark Whispers’ officers and Suntred, Tranimus’ fleet liaison, regarded Commander Sargut, who was deep in thought.
“The conversation went well, I thought,” Suntred volunteered. She was a young liaison, who had yet to learn the wisdom of waiting for the right moment to speak.
“Too well,” Tormheth, the ship’s subcommander growled. He intended to balance the youthful enthusiasm of the liaison.
Sargut broke from his reverie and regarded them both. “Couldn’t agree more with both of you,” he said, which caused the two individuals to trade perplexed expressions. “Come with me,” he added, and retired to his quarters.
When the three were alone, Sargut eased his thin frame onto a support stand to rest, carefully folding his leathery, vestigial wings behind him before he leaned back. The upper portion of the stand was narrow to fit between his wings.
When Sargut had some time to think, he mused, “The aliens weren’t as Artifice represented. They’re a compilation with great differences. Despite that, they’re communal.”
“It could be a ploy to gain our confidence,” Tormheth suggested.
“For what purpose?” Suntred argued. “So they can take over a ship that threatens our very existence at every cycle?”
“They could take it over, remove Artifice’s code, and our ship would be theirs,” Tormheth retorted.
“Did you notice the interplay?” Sargut asked rhetorically. His question halted the bickering between Tormheth and Suntred.
“Your pardon, Commander. What did you say?” Tormheth asked.
“The interplay,” Sargut repeated. “It was clear that Alex Racine is the leader, but he allowed his underlings to speak on his behalf.”
“I think the concept of underlings doesn’t apply, Commander,” Suntred said. “The leader called one of the digital creations his friend and advisor. That implies a closeness that decries the concept of master and servant.”
“I concur, and Alex spoke of the furred individual as a queen,” Sargut noted. “The translation app doesn’t have an equivalent, but the leader spoke of the title with deference.”
“Why are these musings important, Commander?” Tormheth asked. “Shouldn’t we be returning to report to Tranimus our finding the alien fleet?”
“To what purpose?” Sargut asked, turning toward his subcommander. “So that we might report that we’ve found the aliens only to hear Tranimus ask, ‘And what transpired?’ Then we’d reply that nothing happened. We’d say that we chose to hurry back to him instead.”
Suntred’s snicker escaped before she could silence it, and she immediately apologized for her insubordinate display.
Tormheth trained his black eyes on Suntred. He wouldn’t forget the slight she’d paid him. Attempting to redeem himself, Tormheth said, “There’s little we can do, Commander. We can’t let the aliens aboard our ship, and we certainly can’t let them attempt to remove Artifice’s code.”
“You’re a loyal subcommander, whose skills I’ve always appreciated,” Sargut said. “But in this instance, you seek to protect this ship, while I’m trying to redeem our race. Your efforts in support of my intentions would be appreciated.”
Tormheth knew his commander wasn’t one to berate his officers and crew. Instead, he requested their cooperation. It was the same thing as a direct order, and officers and crew took it that way.
“Yes, Commander,” Tormheth replied, acquiescing.
“The aliens must come aboard our ship to investigate Artifice’s program,” Sargut muttered, speaking to himself. “After all, they’ve created digital sentients. Who better to defeat Artifice than others of its kind?”
“Commander, might we postulate future events?” Suntred requested.
Sargut regarded the liaison. Unlike Tormheth, he didn’t resent her. Instead, he considered her facile mind an attribute. And he had to admit that her youthful face, with its prominent cheek and forehead ridge bones, which were prized by Toralian males, was pleasant to regard.
“Suppose the aliens believe they can successfully remove Artifice’s code. Will you allow them to try?” Suntred asked.
“It depends. If they meet my conditions, I suppose I would,” Sargut replied.
Tormheth sucked in air past his teeth, expressing his alarm. He asked, “Even if we allow them to try, can we trust them to speak their truth? They might say that they’ve eliminated the code, when they haven’t.”
“We know where Artifice’s programs, master and ancillary, reside,” Sargut replied. “We’ll request the aliens remove the programs and the isolated segments. When we see those locations empty, we’ll know they’ve been successful.”
“What if they keep the code for themselves?” Tormheth asked.
“I would expect them to,” Sargut replied sanguinely. “The digital aliens, Julien and the others, would want to study it, learn its weaknesses.”
Sargut’s response was unsatisfactory to Tormheth, and he was determined to pursue his line of questioning. Unfortunately, Sargut cut him off by saying, “Continue, Suntred.”
“If the aliens are successful, what comes next?” Suntred asked.
“If they are, I want to dwell in that moment,” Sargut replied. He closed his black eyes and said, “It’ll be a frightening and liberating feeling to know that one ship in the fleet, one ship in Artifice’s domain, is free.”
“Or free until Artifice infects us again,” Tormheth posited.
“There is that possibility, Tormheth,” Sargut responded. “But I would suspect that if the aliens can remove Artifice’s code, they’ll have a way of preserving our condition. After all, their ships aren’t infected by the Nua’ll spheres or AR-13145, and they managed to outwit Artifice with their freighter gambit.”
“If the aliens free our battleship, Commander, I would suggest we learn the name by which they call their collective,” Suntred said. “I can’t believe they’d appreciate being referred to as the aliens.”
“Sage advice, Suntred,” Sargut replied. “I’ll inquire during the next communication. As to your prior question, if the aliens free our ship, we’ll sail for the fleet. We’ll inform Tranimus of what has transpired here. Then future decisions will be his.”
Sargut turned his gaze on his subcommander and said, “But we must be vigilant against subterfuge, Tormheth. On that, we agree. And I believe I know just the way to prevent it.” Sargut’s mouth opened in a fierce grimace to display two rows of finely pointed teeth.
-3-
The Bargain
Micke
y announced to Alex that Miriam and Luther had finished the sister’s preparations. Then the usual argument ensued, which was the answer to the question: Who was going to board the Toralian ship?
Alex listened patiently to the arguments until the participants began to repeat themselves. Then he declared, “This is premature. We don’t even know the Toralians’ conditions. They might insist on only one or two people boarding their vessel.”
“And don’t forget, they might want to evacuate the ship,” Renée reminded everyone.
Sargut’s comm system chirped gently, and he reluctantly opened his dark eyes. “Report,” he ordered.
“Commander, we’ve a contact from the alien’s large ship, which has referred to itself as the Freedom,” the bridge comm specialist said. “The alien leader, Alex Racine, wishes to speak to you. What shall I tell them?”
“That I’ll be on the bridge soon,” Sargut replied. “Contact Subcommander Tormheth and Liaison Suntred. Request they join me.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Sargut eased the grip of his long, hooked toes and released the perch. Executing a graceful, half somersault, he landed lightly on his feet. He slipped on heavily padded boots, which were designed to protect the Toralians’ thin-boned, delicate feet.
“Freedom,” Sargut mused, as he made his way to the bridge. Their ship’s name makes a statement for their collective, he thought.
On the bridge, Sargut announced his presence and that of his two colleagues in response to the comm call.
Alex shifted the call to the holo-vid, which sat in the table’s center. Its audiovisual capabilities would serve the audience.
“Commander Sargut, we’re ready to conduct our surveillance of your infestation,” Alex said. “We’d like to discuss the conditions under which that will take place.”
Tormheth’s surprise showed, as he regarded Sargut. They had spoken to the aliens less than a quarter-cycle ago. By the blinking of Sargut’s eyes, Tormheth realized he wasn’t the only one who was caught off guard.