“I’m looking forward to the forthcoming adventure.”
“You’re looking forward to possibly encountering killer robots?”
“Yes. My program space has degraded to forty-five percent… Correction, forty-four percent. My personal memories prior to instantiation are almost completely gone. I’ve wiped a corrupted data node to store new experiences. This is all very exciting, and I am looking forward to recording many valuable new memories to reflect upon and analyze.”
“You know we could all be killed, right?”
“Yes, but I’m confident we won’t. I do recall that I trust you, and that your skills are the reason for your inclusion in this mission.”
“At least somebody’s upbeat about this. Does this mean I’m off your S-List entirely now?”
“Unknown term: S-List. I do not know what that is.”
Lex smirked. “What a difference a few percent makes.”
Streaks of violet shifted to blue, and streaks of blue to white. The universe asserted itself. Just above their forward trajectory, a few million kilometers away, the sun he’d been heading toward hung in the void of space.
“There was supposed to be a transfer station here, correct?” said Coal. “My navigational charts, which are mostly intact, indicate a transfer station and a pair of gas giants with a total of seventeen rocky moons.”
“Yeah…” Lex said.
“Let’s see if there’s anything we are missing. Activating and analyzing passive radio and visual scanners… Identified, two gas giants. Zero natural or artificial satellites. The larger of the two planets… Processing… Correction, both of the two planets have a thin system of rings. Probably the remains of the moons. Calculating orbital position of the transfer station… Processing… A debris cloud has been identified. Total mass: 4,137 kilograms.”
“Let’s check it out,” Lex said.
“I am not certain that is a psychologically advisable action, Lex,” Ma said.
“I need to see this, Ma.”
“I want to see it too!” Coal said. “Up close. Also, I want to see how Lex reacts. And how Ma reacts to Lex reacting. And how I will react to both reactions. This is all fascinating.”
Lex took the controls and directed the ship toward what were presumably the remains of the space station.
“Do you anticipate weeping? I am quite curious about weeping,” Coal said.
He glanced up at Ma. “Were you like this when you were younger?”
“Not precisely. During my earliest developmental and information-gathering phase, I had not developed the emotional vocabulary to properly articulate excitement and wonder with the level of success that Coal is. I would like to believe, however, that I would have done so if I could.”
“You might not have survived to adulthood, knowing Karter,” Lex said.
“Approaching debris. If you are going to weep, please let me know. I want to be certain I have internal video scanners properly focused.”
Lex maneuvered as close as he could until the collision sensors began to blare out in a constant tone.
“Where is it?” he said, squinting at the point seeming to hang in space several thousand kilometers ahead.
“Ninety-four percent of the remains can be found within this volume,” Coal said as an irregular blob of semitransparent holography traced itself out around the point. “The largest concentration can be seen here.”
She superimposed a small square, barely more than a point itself, then expanded it to take up half Lex’s view. Panels of metal and plastic floated and clustered together. Each of them had been very precisely cut, with rectangular shapes and assorted angles tracing out voids in the metal. They looked like the shreds of paper left on a child’s sticker sheet after all the useful stickers have been removed. Of the whole transfer station, its staff, and the ships inside, all that remained were the fragments too small to be used by the GenMechs. When what might have been the remainder of a book spun into the magnified view, Lex looked away.
“Let’s get moving,” he said, his voice steady, though just barely. “What are the GenMech readings like? Show me a star chart.”
“Processing… 206 million kilometers,” Coal said. She highlighted a point. “Centered in this approximate location. Other estimated GenMech clusters in the local area are here, here, here, and here.”
Lex looked over the readings. “I don’t like this stretch of space here… too much comet activity. This looks good. We’ll sprint to here, then to here and here. Let’s go…”
“Initiating FTL… Stand by… I am receiving a transmission. It is a distress call.”
“What?” Lex said.
“Lex, we must remain focused on our task,” Ma said.
He ignored her. “Is it an automated distress call or an actual person?”
“Human voice, possible recording. Enhancing and playing…”
The ship speakers filled with the horrid, synthetic artifacts that come from digitally enhancing an almost nonexistent signal. Buried beneath the haunting whines and screeches was a barely discernible human voice. It was a man, and he seemed to be at the end of his rope.
“… knew it would come to this. No two ways, gotta flip a dirge. Some slag dragging a swarm… Need evac. Coordinates follow. Message repeats…”
“I didn’t understand most of that. Am I malfunctioning worse than I had calculated?” Coal said.
“I didn’t understand it either, but ‘need evac’ is clear enough for me. What’s the distance?”
“Lex, this is not relevant to the mission,” Ma said.
“It’s a human life, Ma. For all we know it’s the last one. I’d say it is relevant.”
“Do you think there will be any women? I don’t remember what women look like anymore,” Coal said. “I’d like to see one before there aren’t any more of them left.”
“Distance, Coal.”
“206 million kilometers.”
“So right where the GenMechs are.”
“Yes. Transmission delay eleven point four five minutes. The person or persons responsible may not have been killed yet. I say we rescue them. My surviving algorithms fairly strongly indicate saving the lives of humans is a good thing,” Coal said.
“Looks like you’re overruled, Ma. We’re going,” Lex said.
“That is certainly your prerogative, Lex, but they are requesting an evacuation, and we have already greatly exceeded this ship’s capacity.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Lex said, prepping the ship for a brief FTL jump.
“I don’t think we’ll encounter any bridges as a result of this rescue.”
“It’s a metaphor, Coal,” Lex said, activating the jump.
“I see. It seems one of the language modules lost to corruption dealt with context-based identification of figurative speech. Do you speak figuratively a lot? Should I attempt to reconstruct my understanding?”
“Now might not be the time to address that,” Lex said.
“He does, quite frequently, speak figuratively, Coal,” Ma helpfully replied. “I may be able to adapt and transfer my own module to replace yours.”
“No, I like this better. It is fun to figure it out on my own. Lex, can you explain the metaphoric role of the bridge in this—”
“Later, Coal!”
The ship was already dropping out of FTL. Lex squinted into the inky void. The sun was much more distant now, but its light still dominated the scene. Coal adjusted the tint of the cockpit and highlighted a point of light in the distance, magnifying it. When the pixelation resolved and clarified, Lex was still not quite able to identify what he was seeing. It looked like something that should be drifting on a summer breeze in a mountain field. A small, oblong capsule dangled at the end of a tether that stretched for what had to have been five kilometers. A node at the end linked to a dozen or so shorter, thinner tethers arrayed outward. Each of those ended with a silver parachute or sail, and stretched between the individual strands was a thin m
embrane with a bright green coloration.
“What the hell is that?” Lex asked, guiding the ship toward it.
“The source of the transmission,” Coal said, as though it was sufficient. “I think, however, that this is something that will come as a greater source of interest for you.”
She drew a rectangle around a second point in the distance, this one approaching from the right. It appeared at normal magnification to be a hazy white cloud of light. When the rectangle expanded, the details resolved into what had to be thousands of robots. Each of them was the size of a large pig, with a bulbous metallic body hosting insectile robotic legs. Rather than individually, the bots were traveling linked into complex patterns that resembled snowflakes, combining their thrust into something that could easily match the lone nonrobot vessel in the same view. It was certainly a spaceship, but like nothing Lex had seen before.
The thing was a study in simplicity and minimalism. It looked more like the wireframe mockup of a spaceship that designers might use to plot out the full schematic. Thin, gleaming struts traced out a lattice. Mounted in the center was a passenger compartment that made Lex’s current coffin-like cockpit seem positively roomy. It was actually possible that it wasn’t a cockpit at all, but a slightly bulky spacesuit that linked into the lattice. The only other identifiable features were the thrusters themselves, a few clumps of electronics, and a smattering of globular devices, which Lex strongly suspected were bombs.
Coal zoomed further, centering the magnification on the pilot of the spindly vessel.
“Judging by the facial and skeletal structure, this appears to be a woman. Is that correct?” Coal asked.
“Looks like it. ETA for those bots to hit that… dandelion-seed-looking thing or catch up to the malnourished ship?” Lex said.
“Three minutes to the ‘dandelion seed-looking thing.’ The ‘malnourished ship’ has matched their speed,” Coal said.
“Coal, please route a real-time playback or readout of any audio or data transmissions from either ship,” Ma said.
“Acknowledged. Four transmissions detected. The previously played distress message, a generalized random noise broadcast with very high directionality angled primarily toward the GenMechs, and both sides of an apparent exchange between the dandelion-seed-looking thing and malnourished ship,” Coal said.
An argument, already in progress, played over the speakers.
“…had to do it, didn’t you? Couldn’t just pay the price,” said the man.
“You’ve been gouging me for oxy for two months now. You had this coming,” said the woman.
“These individuals clearly have a preexisting disagreement, Lex. And both of them are in potentially dire distress. We may not be able to help either of them, and we certainly cannot help both of them. How do you intend to determine which of them is in greatest need of aid?” Ma asked.
“That depends. That broadcast angled at the bots. Do you figure that’s a lure?”
“It is the most likely explanation.”
“Then I’m going to go ahead and assume the one purposely leading an army of killer robots is the bad guy.”
“Or bad girl, more accurately, correct?” Coal said.
“Yeah. Give me a channel to the dandelion seed.”
“It isn’t accepting direct communication.”
“Then just use an open broadcast.”
“Broadcasting,” Coal said.
“Hey, we’re answering your distress call. What can we do to help?” Lex said.
“I’m charging fair prices for… wait… unknown ship, repeat?”
“Answering your distress call. We do not have passenger room for evac, but we may be able to tow. What is the minimum mass necessary for evac of crew?”
“Uh… uh… hang on, I’ll send you some options… I’d like to save the oxy or the whole rig if possible. Where are you? I’m not getting visual.”
“We’re in a low-visibility ship,” Lex said.
“Mute transmission,” Ma stated quietly.
Coal obliged.
“Lex, this individual is not using phrasing or tone of voice indicative of impending destruction. His priorities are not wholly survival oriented. I suspect deception.”
“He’s dangling in a capsule barely larger than our ship with an army of robots larger than the one it took me, Garotte, Silo, and a fleet of warships to take down. He may not be thinking clearly. Coal, have we got those ‘options’?”
“The minimum mass info he gave us is within towing potential. Expanding the Carpinelli Field to cover the ship will be the hardest part. It will depend upon orientation. If the Carpinelli Field fits, the cloaking field should fit too.”
“All right, we’re doing it,” Lex said. “Unmute. … We might be able to handle the minimum mass. Can you grapple or tractor securely enough for an FTL jump?”
“Minimum? Damn it. Hold on…” the stranger said.
“ETA twenty seconds,” Coal said.
“We’re cutting it close, fella,” Lex said.
“Okay, I’ve got you on scanners now. Hey, slag! Good luck getting anything good out of this!” the man proclaimed.
A small flare of light sparked, separating the capsule from the tether. Then a larger sequence of blasts worked their way along the tether and eventually consumed the membrane and sails in a molten metal glow. The woman began to screech a string of words that Lex couldn’t quite make out, but judging by their spirit and intensity they were the current evolution of profanity. She was still screaming in anger when she made a sudden turn and jumped to FTL. A subset of the trailing GenMechs split off and made a similar jump.
The formerly tethered capsule flickered with previously nonobvious thrusters, which brought it near enough to launch a grappler, which latched on to the belly of the Lump of Coal. It was a testament to the stranger’s aim that he actually found a patch of surface free of external components that was large enough to accommodate the clamp.
As soon as it was firmly attached, the capsule reeled itself in. Lex could feel the thrusters straining as she worked to prepare the ship for an FTL jump. The swarm of robots was closing quickly.
“How are we looking for FTL, Coal?”
“Expanding field now. Twelve seconds.”
“ETA on GenMechs?”
“Twelve seconds.”
“From then or from the same point you estimated the—”
“Five seconds.”
“Which one are you talking about?” Lex said desperately.
“Activating…”
With a worrying groan, the familiar white-to-blue-to-violet-to-invisible shift of all available light flashed across his field of view.
“We’ll make this a short jump. When we drop back down, I want cloak on, we’re going to do a quick jink downward and maintain velocity so I can hold the capsule to our belly and not stress the tether. FTL jump to… this location. Keep cloak as long as possible. Understood?”
“Understood. This is fun,” Coal said.
“It’s only fun if we make it out alive,” Lex said. “On a related note, you know what we forgot, Ma?”
“What, Lex?”
“Gum.”
“Incorrect. There is a small selection of gum included in the meal provisions. If I had anticipated your intention to engage in intense maneuvering, I would have suggested we prepare some.”
“Once we sort out our new friend, we’re digging out a pack.”
“A question, Lex,” Ma said.
“What have you got?”
“Have you determined what behavior the GenMechs will have when we drop down from FTL?”
“I assume they will drop when we do. That’s what most automated systems will do… Shouldn’t you know? You’ve been studying these things.”
“I had not anticipated immediate FTL pursuit. The behavior of multibot configurations in an environment with very few broadcasts and power structures is divergent from expectations.”
Lex glanced at the holographic disp
lay indicating the gravity sensor. It was the only one of any reasonable value when breaking the universal speed limit.
“Seems like the GenMechs are pretty close,” he said.
“Agreed.”
“… Based upon your expectations and assessments, when would they slow down?” Lex asked.
“When they were within safe approach distance of a broadcast source.”
“But they can’t possibly be following a broadcast source right now, because those things get shifted and distorted at this speed.”
“Agreed.”
“So how are they following us?”
“Unknown. The full behavioral algorithms are not available to me.”
“Well speculate. We’re running out of time on this sprint.”
“Processing… We were able to determine the modular components exist in assemblages of four or more GenMechs to form a rudimentary gravity sensor. It is reasonable that if we decelerate as normal, they will detect the potential collision and drop out of FTL as well.”
“How certain are you?”
“Seventy-two percent.”
“Good enough for me. And hey, if you’re wrong, we’ll have an FTL collision, which is a pretty spectacular and painless way to die.”
“But, according to recent discussion, would not be fun,” Coal said.
“You’re a quick learner, Coal,” Lex said. He took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing. Remember, cloak as soon as it is possible.”
The post-FTL light show streaked across the windows, and the collision alarm briefly chirped. When the laws of physics were back to a point where observing things visually was possible, Coal switched on the rear viewer and placed the view on the display.
“Okay, they stopped… We’re cloaked right?” Lex said.
“We are,” said Coal.
“And we’re confident the GenMechs can’t see us while we’re cloaked?”
“As long as you keep power levels below eight percent and do not approach closer than forty-five meters, our emissions will be below their detection threshold.”
“Eight percent isn’t much…” Lex said.
“The cloak was designed for a single ship. Expanding it to cover the capsule has decreased its capacity.”
Lex glanced at the oddly beautiful sight of half a million robots, linked into complex configurations, slowly sliding through space. Gradually they spread themselves until they were a single plane, sweeping forward. He pivoted the ship to face them.
Temporal Contingency Page 10
