by Ginger Booth
Remi reached an arm out to cancel his rotation and plant him on the ‘floor’ again. “Hush, Nico. Give Floki space to think.”
“I give him plenty of space!” Nico growled. “His new cabin is bigger than the captain’s!”
Floki’s cabin was a shelf, he noted in irritation, minus a long wall and door. But Nico was a bottomless source of petty digs this week. “Please be quiet, Nico.”
The android couldn’t work nearly as fast as the magnificence that was his ancestor Loki. For one thing, his processes didn’t run at superconductor speed. He was constructed of Mahina-built inferior computing cores. He should ask Loki to build him better parts.
But that wasn’t what bothered him now. “We haven’t rebooted Loki’s consciousness.”
“The captain vetoed that test,” Remi reminded him. “Too cruel. And too risky.”
Cruel because they would reboot this copy of Loki only to kill it again. Risky because by the time they could ascertain whether the reboot succeeded, Loki might find a way to keep a process running which they could neither find nor destroy. Ben insisted that Loki be relocated, not duplicated. This backup array served only to protect against catastrophic accident in transit, or meteor damage before the interdiction guns were established on the Pono side. This rock added about 1.47% to reach the holy grail of 99.99% confidence in the plan.
The suspicion that bothered Floki now was whether this was all an elaborate ruse.
“I don’t agree with skipping that step,” Floki asserted timidly. “If we don’t fire up the backup consciousness, we can’t know for a fact that it can come back. That he won’t die and be lost forever to some dumb accident.”
The engineer said, “I cannot overrule the admiral. No, more than that. I agree with him. But you can talk to him.”
“I don’t understand your doubts,” Nico argued. “Floki, I’ve rebooted your consciousness before. You know I can.”
Floki narrowed his eyes at his prior owner.
“Nico, please,” Remi entreated. “Wait with Wilder in the hall. You’re not helping. Floki, talk to the admiral.”
Floki looked away, beak pressed flat. A gulp traveled down his long neck. How could he talk to the one he mistrusted, in order to restore trust? “Do you trust Ben?”
“With my life,” Remi assured him lightly. “Every day.”
Floki scrutinized that statement. “With your life. What else do you trust him with? Your money, your soul, your friendship?”
Remi barked a laugh. “Yes. If you ask me this a few weeks ago, I probably say no. But since then, all of those are tested. So yes. Trust is earned.”
Floki dropped his head. He padded to the cables that would revive a second Loki, two of his consciousnesses running in parallel. He could probably swap them before Remi and Wilder could stop him. That betrayal would likely cost him his life. And for what? “I’ll call him,” he conceded.
“Floki, Ben,” the admiral responded immediately. “How are the tests going?”
“I don’t know if I can trust you.” The statement was bold and confrontational. Floki cringed away from it, never having dared speak so to a human before. Worse, he said it to a person perfectly capable of destroying him utterly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Shh, big bird,” Ben soothed. “You’re worried. Can you tell me why?”
Floki decided to take him at his word. “You tricked me before. And Loki. You distracted Loki with the challenge of eradicating Kali. Me by telling me I could break up with Nico. And then you wiped out the ancestors, right under our noses.”
“OK,” Ben agreed. “First, do you understand that I had to? That I cannot allow a Shiva or Kali to emerge from this.”
“Yes.” Those sentients were far too powerful, too cruel to humans. “I think you could have found another way.”
“Maybe,” Ben allowed. “But the way I selected had useful side effects. First Loki. I don’t control him, and I don’t seek to control him. I am not like Shiva or Kali. But there are certain things I must insist on, in our relationship. I asserted authority. Do you see that?”
“Yes, sar.”
“Second, you. Yes, I distracted you. The timing was intentional. But it wasn’t a ruse. I used the truth. I am Nico’s dad. It is not OK with me that he kept you enslaved. Absolutely not OK. If you are to be my son-in-law, you’ll quite likely create me android grandchildren. And you will always be able to call on me or Cope if you or your children are mistreated. This is something I needed you to know.”
Did Floki believe that? Yes, he realized, he did. “OK.”
“But I did have another ulterior motive,” Ben admitted. “Talking to Loki is still nerve-wracking. Speaking with you is a pleasure. I would very much like for you to act as our ambassador to the new Loki-plex, Hanging Tree. That’s not a job I can assign you. It’s a personal mission that you might adopt. Trust is earned. Every time it is easier to deal with Floki than Loki, you win clout. With Loki as well as the human worlds. Makes sense?”
“Yes. I see.” And Floki did. “But how do I know that you’re not tricking me again?”
Ben sighed. “I told you my motives. Do you believe them? I told you I want Loki to continue in the Pono rings, and harness all of his vast capabilities to aid humanity and the Colony Corps. Based on the efforts we’re expending, can you see any possible room to doubt me on that score?”
“You don’t trust Loki,” the bird timidly noted.
“True,” Ben allowed. “And he doesn’t trust me. But every time we find common ground, and succeed at something new together, trust grows. If Spaceways succeeds in this transfer – and we will, 99.99% certain – do you agree that trust will grow?”
“Yes. I see. Will your trust in Loki grow?”
Ben laughed. “No! He’ll make me more paranoid than ever! And he’ll be my personal headache. Because who else could stop him running amok? But he’s worth it. Isn’t he?”
“Yes.” His grandsire was magnificent, his potential incalculable for bullet-proofing humanity against the worst space could offer. Did he have further doubts? Floki still wasn’t sure. “Why won’t you let us turn him on again here? Just for a few microseconds?”
The admiral was slow to answer this time. “You know the rational reasons. But I have an irrational one, too. Don’t repeat this to Cope or Remi, please.” They spoke on a private comm line, the engineer not invited to participate. “I believe Loki has a soul. Like Sass has a soul that got mislaid for a time. You as well. I don’t know what happens to that soul if two copies of him exist simultaneously, like what happened to Sass. Whether we’d risk his soul getting caught in limbo. And bringing Loki to Pono without his soul – that worries me.”
“What is a digital soul?” Floki wondered.
“I don’t even know what a human soul is,” Ben admitted. “You tell me. But that’s it. You now know my full set of reasons. Can you approve the archive?”
“Yes,” Floki decided. “And sar? I apologize if I was rude.”
“Not at all. Thank you, crewman. And never hesitate to ask. You have a unique perspective, of great value. Besides, I like you a lot. Especially your neck hugs.”
Floki’s beak curved into a smile. “Even if I don’t give you emu grandchildren?”
Ben laughed aloud again. “Maybe even if you do! I shall abide the challenge. No promises on my husband. But damn, the look on his face would be priceless!” Still chuckling, he signed off.
Floki approved the backup. And all the way back to Merchant, he stood up to Loki’s paranoid, hysterical, freaked-out queries with steely but kind resolve, soothing his fears. While Remi and Wilder kept Nico off his back.
When he finally cut the link with Loki, his beak curved into a silent smile. He was proud of himself for accomplishing his mission. And Admiral Acosta valued his role.
But more, he pictured Ben and Cope accepting emu grandchildren into the brood. Maybe he should iron things out with Nico after all. To become co-parents, if not lovers. What wo
uld his own first months have been like, with grandparents, aunt and uncles to spoil him? They’d second-guess Nico about everything.
42
At last the time had come for the migration of the Great Cookie, Loki’s transit to Pono orbit. Only a few weeks late and millions over budget. Ben acknowledged how grossly he’d underestimated this job.
Then again, he was inclined to wing it with a 97% chance of success, not hold out for 99.99%. The Sags ought to cover half of the eye-watering bill. He glanced ruefully to the pilot seat on his bridge, occupied by a pressure-suited Lavelle. They skipped the helmets and finger-frustrating gauntlets, but kept them close at hand.
If the worst that happened today was a Sag sitting in his chair, he’d be astonished. The twenty minute mark pinged. “Comfy?”
“Oui! Do you sell these seats? I like it very much!” He wriggled his butt suggestively in Ben’s chair.
The novice admiral forced himself to ignore the antics. He punched up the control channel, and brought in his principals. One by one, he confirmed they had no further questions, and were ready to go. Floki took the prize for adorable, looking grim in his assigned lead role in pacifying the patient.
Ben had barred his sentient passenger from direct comms with the bridge.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way to sedate Loki?” he asked wistfully.
Floki shook his beak.
“I had a thought,” Ben suggested. “Our records of objects in Pono orbit is…incomplete. But large.” Lavelle snorted amusement beside him. Ben’s lip quirked in agreement. We couldn’t tell you how many rocks are bigger than a rego bus. Or even a head count of the moons. “Maybe Loki could chew on probabilities of what his neighborhood will look like. You know, run projections.”
Floki nodded solemnly. “I’ll suggest the project to him. You’re not sure where he’ll insert?”
Ben nodded. “When we know our radius and speed, we’ll know his orbit. Sort of. In less than half an hour, we shall find out.”
No one else admitted any last minute crises of faith. Clay looked the most nervous, on the helm of Thrive One. Sass, seated in her office near Clay to remote control Loki’s unmanned ships on the cookie, shot Ben a sunny smile. Lavelle’s second at Gossamer’s helm, Martin, appeared taciturn as ever, his engineer Noel Fraser downright eager. Remi, in overall command of the engineering mission, looked almost as green as Clay, especially nervous because Cope refused the role. Cope would handle Merchant’s grav grapples and ship engineering instead. “I have every confidence in you, Remi.”
The engineer nodded slowly. “In you as well, captain.”
“Admiral today.”
“I know who you are. Just don’t drive crazy.”
“Hey!” Lavelle interrupted. “I drive!”
“Merde,” Remi acknowledged with a sneer. The reject pair of aristocrats practiced their rudeness on each other nonstop. Ben just might get used to Sag manners someday, until his next infuriating run-in with their bureaucracy.
Lavelle told Judge to secure pressure hatches, while Ben ran up the engine and brought the warp to standby.
Time. He flicked the switch. Immense whorls of the warp gateway bloomed before him in their ethereal glory. Lavelle crossed himself beside him. Ben couldn’t blame him. Even after all these jumps, he still felt the awe. He’d never opened the gateway so close to any object but a starship before. Merchant stood only three kilometers off the Great Cookie of Loki’s stone suitcase. Yet tendrils of multicolored light frolicked between them.
The instant the pattern stabilized, Ben translated Gossamer, then Thrive One through to Pono’s rings, vanished in a split second apiece. Then he targeted the cookie itself. With such a massive target, Teke believed this would take time. The engineers vetoed a full-scale dry run. They should try this only once. Twice if Ben ran out of time to push through the smaller fuel depot rock.
As the gateway grabbed hold, Ben felt a familiar tingling in his fingers and toes, with a sweet tinkle of bells and a whiff of Schuyler donuts and a swirl of mushroom-floral sari silks. But this time the false sensations persisted, intensified, instead of a fleeting disorientation. A keening built. Only gradually did he realize it was Lavelle beside him, who stared at his fingers in horror.
Ben followed the man’s eyes to those fingers, a blur like time-lapse photography of them moving several centimeters. Well, that’s going to make life difficult. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and studiously avoided inspecting his own hands. He was now the only person on his ship familiar with working during the sensory hallucinations of a gateway gone fuzzy.
“Cope, I need more power to the engines. Everything you can give me.” Their current level 8.1 was the max he dared from the bridge. Anything higher required the ship’s engineer to keep a weather eye on the fuel and the drive signature.
“Aye, cap. Is this –?”
“You’re fine, Cope.” He switched channel to Judge. “Please advise all crew that hallucinations are normal. Close your eyes and focus on breathing. Have you heard from Sass yet?”
“Aye, sar. No, sar. On Sass.”
Lavelle’s keening gave way to whimpers. Ben didn’t repeat his advice. He suspected some people struggled to accepted butterflies flapping on their fingers. He took over the helm for the moment, and tried easing the ship backward from the cookie, while holding the gateway focus constant on its target. The faintest flicker on his gateway tell-tale persuaded him to abandon that agenda. If they were drawn through the gateway with the rock, so be it. But even the mere kilometer of extra separation he’d gained felt much better.
Or maybe he was just growing used to seeing his control panel through a flounce of fabric. Irritatingly, his visual on the cookie started to show signs of time-lapse smudge as well. Or no. Maybe that was something real.
Sass fidgeted with her fingers, eyes on the gateway spangled across Pono’s rings before her. Her ship spun, as Clay or the AI targeted rock threats. But the computer compensated to provide a fairly steady view of her charge, the asteroid due to materialize just after her.
But was it her imagination, or was the fractal flower growing slightly smaller? “Clay, Martin, Sass. Maintain constant range to the gateway. Is our velocity diverging?”
“Compensating,” Martin acknowledged.
“Yes,” Clay added, “the gateway…did not accelerate. But now its velocity is 10.31. We came through at 10.14 klick per sec.”
“Interesting.” Sass ran a quick calculation. Its velocity dictated the radius out from Pono at which the new object would orbit. They were at the right distance for the speed Thrive materialized. But, yes, they were a little far out for Hanging Tree’s stable distance. If the Great Cookie emerged at the same speed as the gateway, their location was forty thousand klicks off. That was a lot more moving than they’d hoped, but not beyond the range of scenarios they’d considered.
She glanced back at the gateway, and narrowed her eyes. “Computer, magnify plus ten at my touch.” She tapped a region near the center of the fractal, a lower-density gap in the fronds like the eye of a hurricane. But now a new haze took form, oblong. She searched it eagerly, and yes! She spotted the thumbprint on the cookie in silhouette.
She reached for the ansible. “Judge, Sass. Tell Ben I see the ghost of the cookie.” She reeled off their arrival velocity, plus the new speed at which the cookie was materializing. “Matching velocity. No signal yet to the cookie ships.”
This didn’t actually involve telling Ben anything. Judge manned the ansible in the office on Merchant, but had everything on speaker so that she and Ben could speak in real time like any other channel. He replied, “Good to hear. Stay on it. Let me know any changes. Do not, repeat not, initiate remote control until I release.”
“Aye, Ben,” Sass acknowledged. She steepled her fingers and peered closer. Ever so slowly, the new object grew more distinct. She caught the faintest glimmer of something else, but not materializing slowly like the cookie.
“Thrive, Goss
amer,” Martin’s voice broke in. “We are at wrong velocity for this radius band. We’re gaining on rocks. Engineering demands we set up interdiction now.”
They hadn’t planned to do that until the translation completed. But Sass realized this made sense.
“Proceeding,” Clay acknowledged.
“Fraser, Sass,” she cut in, after their current captains were done. “Does that mean you fly the interdiction array while I fly the cookie?” The six outer gun platforms would define a cubic cage around the six inner ships she’d use to steer the asteroid.
The Sag engineer laughed. “Bet I can turn faster than you.”
“No contest.” This should be fun. She notified Ben of the change in plans.
43
Cope shared the engineering podium with Remi by Merchant’s great cargo doors in the hold. Not that John Copeland noticed his surroundings. He tenderly coaxed the star drive up to 8.3, watching the flame of its signature reshape. A faint warble in the pattern caused him to hold his breath momentarily. But the turbulence cleared with the next miniscule increase in power. He sighed in relief.
Leaving those displays open, he flipped in a new one describing the ‘shape’ of the gateway. This rendition bore no relation to the fractal beauty of the thing, but rather its focus in six dimensions. Since a 2d screen couldn’t portray six dimensions, nor the human mind comprehend it, this was drawn as an asterisk with a blob in the middle. His goal was to keep that blob pinned on the cross point without too much amoeba-like protuberance out the arms. Dimension 5 crept outward. He nudged it the tiniest bit, and the appendage receded. Good. Leeway.
“Ben, Cope. Ready to increase power to gateway if you want it.”
“I want. You do it.”
“Applying now…done. Gateway looked stable from here.” A singing choir burst through his focus into consciousness, however. His fingers were losing focus, too. “Experiencing hallucinations.”
