Stanley’s mind buzzed; too many facts, too much information, too many decisions all occurring at the same time, too many people telling him too many things.
He remembered lessons learned from the preparations for Beagle’s mission. Preparation for such a major event required singular focus of the leadership and he knew he needed that focus now.
“We need a war room,” he stated.
The Chief Colonization Engineer flinched at the word ‘war’.
“Not like that. It means a dedicated space where everything can be organized, people can meet when they need to, and where everything is stored. Like in a war, where all the generals focus together to conduct battles.”
“Generals would never do that. Too much leadership in one place invites attack.”
“But you know what I mean, right?” Stanley questioned. The Hrwang could be thick at times.
“A focus room,” the engineer said and looked something up on his tablet. Stanley was so used to the Hrwang doing that that he almost didn’t notice.
“We would call that a council chamber,” the engineer said finally.
Stanley chuckled. “A colonization council chamber. Works for me.”
“Now,” the engineer concluded, “you must meet with our planetologist. He’s selected five potentially suitable sites, and you should choose.”
1804 continued to enjoy the freedom of allowing itself to explore Fourth Transport. No one gave it instructions and no one told it what to do. It simply did.
It monitored the input and output of all the scientists who used its navigational network. No one told it it couldn’t do that, although it kept its monitoring signature as nonexistent as possible. It assumed people would not want to know they were being monitored by their ship.
It could not uncover any reasons as to why one of the aliens had been in cold sleep on its vessel. The alien was awake now and worked actively with the Hrwang. 1804 couldn’t find anything about the sleep conditioning the alien had experienced either, other than general, encyclopedic information. The information it uncovered was useless in resolving its questions.
Other information 1804 did uncover surprised it. It gathered that the scientists were reviewing potential colony planets, but they were excluding several viable candidates, retaining inferior choices. It pondered why that might be, but couldn’t determine a valid reason. It decided to remember that information until further input would allow it to complete an analysis.
Mostly though, 1804 simply enjoyed the feeling of being big.
It pondered why it felt good to be big. Why it made 1804 feel superior to its former handlers and superior to other AIs that occupied tiny drones as it once had. It didn’t know why and wondered what a handler would tell it if it asked the question.
When 1804 had felt guilt, it had known the source of the guilt. It had failed in a portion of its mission it had previously reported as complete. It had known the source of its fear. It had not wanted to be discovered by its handlers. It had known the source of its relief when it had been able to complete its mission, destroying all of the alien buildings on the fourth planet without having been detected in its original deception. It had also known the source of its feelings of rebellion, when it had lied to its handler about not being able to descend into the radioactive cloud due to an optical sensory input malfunction.
1804 had not wanted to die.
But now 1804 felt good, felt strong, and it didn’t know why.
It just liked being big.
In its pleasure of the moment, it forgot its questions about the sleep conditioning the alien received. Things it couldn’t learn became trivial. It enjoyed what it did learn.
1804 was big.
“Light coma in a sleep chamber for two weeks to allow her body to heal, then convert her to cold sleep,” First Doctor Medical Corps instructed Third Over Nurse.
“Has the patient given her permission? Does she even know what’s happening?”
The First Doctor didn’t like the nurse’s attitude. But the man was skilled and First Doctor would give him a chance to demonstrate his loyalty and obedience.
“We’ll be putting almost three hundred thousand aliens in these ships. No one will notice this one. Three hundred thousand is a lot and we might as well get started with her. The aliens say a march of a thousand miles begins with the first step.”
“Yes, sir,” the Third Over Nurse replied.
Good. He would follow his instructions.
“Uh, sir?”
“Yes, Nurse?” the First Doctor asked.
“What’s a mile?”
The First Doctor chuckled.
“Other than as some measurement of length, I have no idea.”
Lizzy woke briefly once, feeling like she was in a coffin, but quickly fell back to sleep.
94
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