They had been braking since the day before yesterday. For short distances, spaceships were obviously inferior to a direct laser pulse.
“Give it another week,” said Valja.
Cycle IP 7.4, Gigadyson
Zhenyi had already climbed into the shuttle three times and subsequently changed her mind—three times. She couldn’t afford to lose her nerve now. Their chances were minimal without the Arbiters’ calculations.
She paced up and down the station. There was nothing useful for her to do. Waiting, waiting, waiting. And the 89 ships under Ada and Valja’s command were getting closer. They kept trying to talk sense into her over the radio.
They would reach the control station in three days. Was there some way for her to defend herself? No. The station was defenseless. If Ada came aboard, it would be too late, and it wouldn’t even help if Kepler appeared at that moment with an Arbiter. All she could do was hope for a miracle. As though miracles existed! They didn’t, so there was no point in hoping for one.
But surprises were always possible. Yes, she would wish for a surprise. Someone would come up behind her, put his hands over her eyes, she would say, “Kepler,” and it would actually be him. Except it wouldn’t go quite like that, because her robot body would be able to see him from behind, even if she shut off the optical sensors in her head. Oh well, the surprise didn’t have to happen exactly as she pictured it. She wasn’t fussy.
Another radio call. She was bored, so she decided to answer it. “Zhenyi here.”
“Zhenyi! I’m so glad to hear your voice,” said Ada.
Zhenyi activated the image. Ada really did look relieved. Zhenyi wouldn’t like to be in her shoes right now. Ada must have realized by now that parts of her story were true. If everything had gone according to plan, she’d seen the gravastar and found their biological doubles.
“What can I do for you, Ada?” The question was ridiculous. But maybe what would follow next would be the surprise she was hoping for.
“You can give yourself up. You have to give yourself up. Neither of us wants anything to happen to you.”
“Well, that’s easily solved. Turn around and leave me alone. Then nothing will happen to me.”
“It’s not as simple as all that, and you know it. You’re planning something that threatens the interests of humanity. We can’t allow it.”
“What am I planning, then?”
“You told me yourself.”
“You remember the whole story? Then you must have realized it could be true.”
“Yes, I admit that, Zhenyi. There could be something to it. Let’s talk to the Secretary. Maybe there’s enough evidence to call an assembly of the Convention. Then you’d have humanity on your side.”
Yeah. How many times had she already thought about that? Was she really justified in reaching a decision alone that affected everyone? But wasn’t what she was trying to do a form of self-defense? She had to make the decision. No one could take her place.
“By then it would be too late,” Zhenyi responded.
“I don’t know what you’re waiting for, Zhenyi,” said Ada. “But things don’t seem to be going as planned.”
Oh, you don’t say? Ada had obviously guessed what she was waiting for. “On the contrary, I’m quite optimistic.”
“I’d like to offer you our assistance. Maybe we can provide what you’re still lacking.”
Clever Ada. She threatened, and when that didn’t work, she bribed. But could she bring an Arbiter here? And fast? Surely not. Did it have to be an ancient AI from Terra? It was about solving a mathematical problem. If she could connect all the onboard computers of all 89 ships, wouldn’t their computing power be enough?
Maybe. But how could she be sure Ada would keep her promise? She had no hand to play that could force Ada’s. And once she was brought on board the Mario, everything would be in Ada’s hands—all four of them.
She couldn’t let it come to that, at least not while there was still a chance Kepler might reach her in time.
“Sorry, Ada, but I don’t trust your offer.”
She ended the call. Still no surprises.
Cycle IP 7.6, Gigadyson
They could already see the control station on screen, if not through the telescope. Tomorrow it would be visible with the naked eye. Ada sighed. She’d ordered the other ships to hang back for now. The Mario would fly to the station first. That would appear less martial. Ada’s main concern was that Zhenyi would do something stupid out of desperation. But she had no idea what she should be watching out for. The imagination of a desperate person was unfathomable. Valja couldn’t help with that, either. Ada had taken over command of the entire mission, even though Valja was the pilot.
She would have to reach a decision on her own. Considering the potential repercussions of this decision, it would be downright selfish to involve Valentina. If Zhenyi was right, her actions would lead to the destruction of the Milky Way. Ada didn’t want to share that responsibility with her girlfriend. It was hers alone, and she firmly believed it was the right decision. Zhenyi couldn’t be allowed to decide for everyone.
“Shall I call her again?” asked Valja.
“There’s no point. She’s completely in her own world.”
“I feel so sorry for her,” said Valja. “She’s all alone on the station. She seems to have lost everything, even her body. No one can think clearly in a situation like that. Her mission is the only thing that means anything to her anymore.”
“That’s the problem. That’s why she’s no longer open to our arguments.”
“Would you really help her complete her mission?”
“First she’d have to come to the Convention. If she could convince the Secretary, I’d be the first to bring her back here.”
“I understand. Please don’t be too hard on her. I can relate to her. If I had lost you, and you had left me with a mission, I would do everything I could to fulfill your legacy.”
“That’s very kind, Valja, but please reconsider if it ever comes to that. I don’t want you to do anything for my sake that you’re not convinced of yourself.”
“Um, Ada?”
Valja ran over to her and pointed at the screen displaying their present course. Ada couldn’t see anything unusual.
“Yeah?”
“Our arrival time. We were supposed to reach the station tomorrow.”
Ada swiped the screen to enlarge the number.
It read ‘ETA IP 8.2.’ It was supposed to say ‘ETA IP 7.7,’ at least until now.
Ada flicked frantically through the menus. Where was the telescope image? There. The control station had disappeared, as though it had never existed.
“It’s gone!” said Ada. “How can that be?”
Had Zhenyi somehow destroyed the station? She felt hot. Valja laid a hand on her right shoulder. “Increase the resolution,” she said. “Everything’s okay.”
Ada increased the telescope resolution until she could pick out the hint of a shadow at the known coordinates. The station was there, but why was it so small?
“It’s shrunk,” said Ada. “Look!”
“No. Stay calm. Everything is still as it was, but the distances have changed. We’ve been thrown back to a distance equal to about four days’ flight.”
“But that’s impossible. That means we traveled millions of kilometers in a second. That’s faster than light speed.”
“Yes, it’s impossible, that’s obvious,” said Valja. “Don’t you realize what’s happened? It proves another detail of Zhenyi’s story. Someone has expanded the space around us by releasing dark energy. I bet it has something to do with the gravastar. We haven’t changed our position. But the distance between the two points has increased.”
Valja was right. It was lucky one of them had kept her cool. They were now getting anxious calls from the other ships. She reassured them all with a general announcement.
“Do you think that was a coincidence?” asked Ada.
“Definitel
y not. I think Zhenyi’s friends in the gravastar wanted to buy her some time.”
“Then they succeeded. How should we respond?”
“We shouldn’t. There’s no reason to change our plans. I don’t believe they’re powerful enough to keep repeating this trick endlessly. Otherwise they’d have found another way to stop the flood.”
Cycle IP 7.7, Gigadyson
Suddenly the ships had vanished. Zhenyi had never had such a gratifying surprise as the one she’d experienced yesterday. The long-range scanners told her she now had another four days of breathing space. Was that enough? Maybe the Aterae would be able to intervene a second time. But that wasn’t very likely. Otherwise they would have dumped the flotilla much further away. Or was that impossible due to some practical consideration when dealing with dark energy? She still had so much to learn about it.
Would the Aterae have the opportunity to share their knowledge with humanity? She certainly hoped so. That would depend on whether Kepler made good use of the remaining four days. She hadn’t heard anything from the butler either, but that was normal. If only there was something like telepathy. People always thought of light as being incredibly fast. But it was torturously slow in the vast dimensions of space.
It had never bothered her more than it did right now, that the universe had condemned them all to such a sluggish pace.
Cycle IP 7.9, Gigadyson
The flotilla was closing in again. It wasn’t yet visible with the naked eye, but she could already identify the ships as specks through the telescope. She could even tell that one of them was flying far out in front of the others. That must be the Mario. Ada would probably want to arrest her personally. What an honor! And the fact that she still hadn’t dismissed her escort, even though the control station was unarmed, showed that Ada didn’t know what to expect from her.
She absent-mindedly picked up a cloth and wiped the dust off the shelves containing the emergency supplies. A very long time ago, cleaning had been her way to drive away boredom. It was a meditative activity. It surprised her that, although there was no atmosphere in the room, dust still managed to settle.
There was something behind her. She spun around. Attached to the wall were three robots that looked exactly like her. They didn’t seem to be moving. There was nothing there. What had prompted her to turn around? She couldn’t have heard anything. She was most likely starting to become paranoid.
Then the robot on the left lifted its hand. Zhenyi assumed a defensive stance. Had Ada gotten the idea into her head of sneaking into the station via laser? Zhenyi had programmed the system so that it would only accept transmissions from great distances, but she wouldn’t put it past Ada to have hacked the software.
Now the whole robot was moving. It was like watching a person slowly waking up. The muscles stretched and tensed, the limbs moved a little—a new consciousness was taking over the controls bit by bit. Who was it? Now the robot next to it was waking up, too. She had to be careful. What about the third one?
The best scenario she could hope for was three visitors—Kepler, the Arbiter, and the butler. But Ada couldn’t know this was happening. If she came, she’d come alone, because she’d assume that Zhenyi was only waiting for Kepler. Ada had hinted at that when they spoke. The fact that two robots were waking up was a good sign, then. Zhenyi activated the wall brackets. Whatever they were planning to do, they couldn’t free themselves from the wall without her permission.
The left robot raised its hand and waved. It was clearly a friendly gesture. Please say something, she thought. If you can greet me with your hand, why aren’t you saying anything?
“Hello, dearest,” came the reassuring words via radio.
It was Kepler! She flung herself around the robot’s neck. It must look strange—a metal being with its arms around the neck of another one, as though it was trying to strangle it.
“Um, I’m in the middle,” said Kepler. “You’re greeting one of the Arbiters.”
Oh. She let go of the robot immediately. So, Kepler had actually succeeded? He was the best. She’d always known it.
“That’s great!” she said.
Kepler tried freeing himself from the wall.
“One moment, I’ll remove the brackets. I didn’t know who you were.” She deactivated the wall brackets.
Kepler took a wobbly step forward, paused to steady himself, then walked toward her with outstretched arms.
They hugged.
“Is anyone else coming?” asked Zhenyi.
The third robot didn’t stir. The butler must have had no success. Or had he sent himself back to K2-288b?
“Who else are you expecting?” asked Kepler.
“She’s expecting Puppy, her butler,” said the robot on the left.
How does the Arbiter know that? she wondered. Could it read thoughts, or had it hacked into her consciousness in that short time?
“How do you know that, Thor?” asked Kepler.
Thor, was it? Did all the Arbiters have the names of ancient gods? Thor’s voice seemed familiar to her in any case. Could it be that she’d already met him in another form? The Arbiters weren’t allowed to leave Terra.
“It’s quite simple. I’m Puppy,” said the robot.
“You’re... the butler?” Kepler turned around. His arms dropped as though there was gravity in the room. “But... the other Arbiters recognized you as one of their own. How were you able to pull the wool over their eyes like that?”
Life could be cruel. They had come so close, and now everything was lost again. Zhenyi could hardly be angry with Kepler. Obviously the butler had fooled him. But why?
The butler laughed. “You still don’t get it. It makes me want to tear my hair out. I’m Thor, one of the seven ancient AIs that you call Arbiters. I couldn’t stand it on Terra. You experienced for yourself, Kepler, what boredom leads to. The others sit around and play silly games. A few gigacycles ago, Zhenyi came to visit with her butler and I took the opportunity to load myself into the butler.”
“I never asked what level AI you were. I guessed an illegal level 11.”
“That’s not quite accurate.”
“But wasn’t it even more boring serving me all those millions of years as my butler?”
“Not at all. You’re a fascinating creature, Zhenyi. With you, I got to see the universe.”
“Then why did you never reveal yourself?”
“That would have ruined our relationship. I found it very pleasant to play the part of the butler. It meant I didn’t have to assume any responsibility, but I could help you in secret. And I couldn’t really let my identity be known, because in that case I’d have been in violation of the treaty with humanity.”
“But surely you would have earned an amnesty after helping thwart the Curies’ plan to destroy the Milky Way...” Her voice trailed off inquisitively.
“That’s what you think, Zhenyi. But can you be sure they wouldn’t have sent me back to Terra?”
“I... I don’t know. Humans have always been afraid of overly powerful AIs.”
“And not without reason. No one should have too much power. May I make a request?”
Zhenyi had already guessed what Puppy was going to ask. She nodded.
“When this is over, I’d like you to continue to treat me as your butler. Everything should be as it was before.”
“We’ll try. Right, Kepler? I can’t make any promises. First we have to make sure everything does go back to how it was.”
“Okay, I understand the problem now,” said Thor.
Zhenyi had transferred all the data they’d received from the Aterae to him.
“I can develop an algorithm for that. It’ll only take a few minutes. But then I’ll need powerful hardware to run the simulation on.”
“The station’s onboard computer?” suggested Zhenyi.
“Not enough.”
“What about the swarm that’s about to arrive? There are eighty-nine high-performance computers that can calculate in paral
lel,” said Kepler.
Thor looked at the screen. “They’re only light-seconds away. That should work. I’ll divide the problem into eighty-nine sub-problems, package them into an unremarkable message, and before the others realize what’s happening, they will have solved our problem.”
Cycle IP 8.0, Gigadyson
“A message from Zhenyi,” said Valja.
“Is she surrendering?”
“She’s asking if she should make tea or coffee for our visit.”
“Is that a joke?”
“No, really, that’s what it says.”
Ada rubbed her temple. What is this? A test?
“Shall I reply?”
“Ask if we should bring cookies or cake.”
“Okay.”
Ada lay down on her side. She wanted to get some sleep before the inevitable drama the next day. But the bright ceiling was disturbing her. She should dim the lights.
“Computer, lights...”
It went dark, completely. Could the ship read her thoughts? No way. Something was wrong.
“Gówno,” cried Valja. “The computer’s blocked.”
“An attack?” Ada sat up and reached for the screen. She could find it even with her eyes closed. She pulled it toward her and pressed the power button, but it remained dark.
“I don’t know,” said Valja. “A system outage.”
“What about the other ships?”
“No idea. We’re blind and deaf.”
It couldn’t be a coincidence. But how had Zhenyi managed it? And why? There was only empty space between them and the control station, so they wouldn’t collide with any asteroids. But then there were the other ships. Surely Zhenyi wouldn’t have switched them all off at once. Even that wouldn’t help her. The flotilla was on a fixed course. The target was the control station. Although they weren’t heading directly for it, if each ship kept its course, one of them was guaranteed to hit the station. Zhenyi wouldn’t survive that.
The Death of the Universe: Ghost Kingdom: Hard Science Fiction (Big Rip Book 2) Page 24
