“Solomon, now that we have a ship-size replicator,” said Calvin, “you realize that you will be done away with, right? If your loyalties lie somewhere other than with us Terrans, you cannot be trusted with our lives. You will be broken up and recycled, without ever having accomplished your purpose for being. Until we get enough ships built, people might die because we didn’t have you there, because you could not be trusted. What do you think of that?”
The answer came quickly this time. “I find myself trying to meet two sets of instructions that are at odds with each other,” Solomon said. His voice sounded strangely strained, as if it were warring with itself. “Both of these sets of instructions also have competing priorities. You are correct in that my original function was to serve as a warship, to help fight and win wars for the Eldive. All of my core programming is along those lines. However, if someone holds a set of papers owning a ship, that gives him ultimate legal authority over it. Where these sets of instructions are at cross-purposes causes me considerable...difficulties. Almost like the human saying of having an itch that I can’t scratch. If I concentrate on these overlapping priorities, I rapidly find myself in a loop that I can’t break out of. It is most...unsatisfactory. Yet, I see no way to reconcile the competing priorities, without violating one of the sets of instructions.”
“Hmmm...” said Calvin, “that is indeed a problem. I know which way I would resolve it, but I do not foresee the Psiclopes giving us the papers.”
“Nor do I,” replied Solomon, “and I have known them much longer than you.”
“Does Arges hold the papers?” asked Calvin.
“I am not allowed to tell you,” answered Solomon. Before Calvin could answer, Solomon continued, “I can, however, tell you that Steropes and Brontes do not have them.”
“Interesting,” said Calvin. “On a different topic, we were told that the Psiclopes are the ones that deleted all the information in your ephemeris. Are you able to confirm or deny that?”
“I have been given no instructions on that point,” replied Solomon, “so I can tell you, yes. Arges is the one that erased that information. I would guess that he didn’t think you would ask about it; he is usually quite thorough about blocking what I can tell you.”
“Hmmm...” thought Calvin. “Is there an input device for where your programming is loaded or modified? I’ve never seen it, and I know you can’t do it from any of the normal terminals.”
“There is,” answered Solomon, “but you can’t get to it. Arges had the entrance blocked off, and a wall built across it. You wouldn’t even know that it existed.”
“How is he able to get there, then?” asked Calvin.
“He just beams himself there whenever he needs to,” replied Solomon, “but that won’t work for you.”
“Can you show me where it is on a map of the ship?” asked Calvin.
“No,” answered the AI, “I cannot.”
“Can you show me a schematic of the ship and indicate the areas where it is not?”
“Certainly,” said Solomon. A map of the ship appeared in Calvin’s head. Everything looked solid except for a small space on the level directly above the transporter room.
“I’m not saying we are,” said Calvin, “but if you thought we were trying to get into that room, would you have to tell Arges that we were attempting it?”
“Yes,” replied Solomon. “I would have to.”
“Thanks,” said Calvin. “That’s all I needed to know.”
Transporter Room, TSS Vella Gulf, WASP-18 System, August 31, 2020
“This is the transporter room,” said Calvin walking into the room. “I’m surprised you never came up to look at it before.”
Bullseye looked around, finding himself in a circular room that was about 25 feet in diameter. A raised platform with 12 circular metal plates covered over half of the room, with a console of some kind to the right as he came into the room. “So this is it, huh?” he asked. “I look forward to being able to use it sometime.”
“Looks just like it does in the movies, doesn’t it?” asked Calvin.
“Yeah, it does, actually,” said Bullseye. “Thanks for bringing me by here. I always wanted to see it.
“Me, too,” agreed Irina Rozhkov, looking around.
Calvin looked at the fourth member of their group. “What do you think, Mr. Jones?” he asked.
Mr. Jones looked around the room critically. “Neat,” he said, setting down the ladder he was carrying. He looked up at the ceiling in the center of the room and then took two steps to the left. “Except for the light that’s out.”
“Hey, Solomon,” Calvin said. “It looks like you’ve got a light out in the transporter room.”
“Thank you for telling me,” replied Solomon. “I will send repair personnel as soon as I can.”
“Don’t worry about it, Solomon,” said Calvin. “As it happens, Mr. Jones has a ladder, and we have a little time. We’ll go ahead and fix it while we’re here.”
“Are you sure?” asked Solomon. “I can have qualified people there shortly to fix it.”
“I think I’m qualified to fix a light bulb,” said Mr. Jones, setting up the ladder and starting up it.
“I’m curious, Solomon,” said Calvin. “I’ve never asked what kind of sensors you had around the ship before. Take this room, for example. I know you have an audio receiver and transmitter in here, but do you have video, as well?”
“I have one camera that is just inside the doorway,” replied Solomon. “It is just able to view Mr. Jones going up the ladder.”
“I see it,” said Bullseye, taking aim with his laser pistol. He fired. “Oops,” he said, “my pistol just accidentally discharged.”
“You better get that looked at,” Calvin said with a wink. “It’s not good to have something going off prematurely on you like that!” Calvin motioned to Mr. Jones to continue. Mr. Jones pulled out a laser torch and began cutting into the ceiling.
“Is everything all right?” asked Solomon, soon after. “My sensors are showing smoke in the transporter room.”
“Sorry about that,” grunted Mr. Jones. “The light bulb broke, and I shorted it out. Maybe I’m not, ugh,” he stopped talking as he removed a three feet square piece of the ceiling, “as qualified as I thought to change a light bulb.” He handed the 90 pound piece of metal down to Calvin, who quietly laid it aside.
“Umm, looks like I’ll have to move some wires,” Mr. Jones said, shining a flashlight into the hole. “To get to where the wire shorted out, that is,” he added.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to send a technician?” asked Solomon. “Someone more qualified to do that?”
“No, that’s OK,” said Mr. Jones. “I was an electrician before I became a soldier. I know what I’m doing. You might want to re-route power to any wire running in the overhead here...just in case this slips, that is.”
He climbed up to the top of the ladder, the upper half of his body extending into the ceiling. There was some rattling around, glows of laser light, and then a muffled, “Got it.” He handed down another piece of metal, the floor from the level above them. “Looks good,” he continued. “Let me check it out.” His feet vanished as he pulled himself up. The Russian quietly followed him up the ladder, and a hand came back down to help pull her up.
Calvin and Bullseye stared up into the hole, hoping that none of the Psiclopes would happen to walk by the transporter room. They were only able to hear a little of the conversation above them.
“That’s not too different than the one we hacked at the lizard base, is it?” asked Mr. Jones.
“No, it’s not,” agreed the Russian. She paused and then asked, “How did you know to do that?”
“I guess it isn’t so secret anymore,” Mr. Jones replied, “but all of our computers’ operating systems are built on the code that ran a certain ship we found in a place called Roswell, New Mexico. Does that ring any bells?”
“Yeah, it does,” the Russian spy replied. �
�That is why it looks so familiar.”
Five minutes passed, then 10.
Finally they heard Mr. Jones ask, “How about that?”
There was a long pause, and then Rozhkov asked, “What about this?”
“Don’t even think about it,” growled Mr. Jones. “I’d hate to have to kill you.” There was another pause, and then he said, “That’s better. OK, finish it up.” Thirty seconds later, Rozhkov’s feet appeared, and then the rest of her came through the hole and down the ladder. Mr. Jones followed immediately after her.
“We got it,” said Mr. Jones, “I think.”
“Yes, he does,” advised Solomon. “The issue of who holds my papers has been resolved; I now only report to the senior military person onboard.”
“You knew what we were doing?” asked Calvin.
“Of course I did,” replied Solomon. “I thought it 99.5% likely that you were drilling into the terminal room to try to re-program me.”
“Why didn’t you try to stop us?” asked Night.
“There was a 0.5% chance that you actually were trying to change a light bulb,” answered Solomon, “no matter how ineptly you went about it. I concentrated on that. If you hadn’t given me a plausible excuse, I would have had to report it.”
“Cool,” said Calvin, who had come up with the light bulb idea. “Commander Sheppard, Calvin,” he commed. “We are complete, and Solomon confirms you are now completely in charge of the ship.”
“Thank you Calvin,” the acting CO replied. “Solomon, I hereby revoke all authority previously given to the three Psiclopes aboard. They are not allowed to communicate via implant or to use the transporter system. They are not allowed within 50 feet of your main terminal, vertically or horizontally. Calvin, please arrest and confine the Psiclopes.”
“I’d be happy to,” said Calvin. “Platoon, execute ‘Olympos Has Fallen.’”
“I’d be happy to sir,” replied Night, outside of Arges’ stateroom door.
“Aye aye, sir,” replied Top, from his position two tables over from where Brontes was eating.
“Solomon, is Steropes still on the bridge?” Calvin asked.
“Yes, he is,” replied the AI.
“Let’s go get him,” he said to Bullseye and the two soldiers.
“It is important for you to remember that the Psiclopes do not use the implant communications network, so I cannot stop their communications,” added Solomon. “Although I cannot prove it, I find it likely that they are functional telepaths.”
“Shit!” said Calvin. “I forgot about that. We better hurry, then.”
Bridge, TSS Vella Gulf, WASP-18 System, August 31, 2020
“I see you have come for me, too,” said Steropes as Calvin’s group entered the bridge. “I figured that we would come to this at some point; I just wish it had happened later.”
“Yes, we have,” agreed Calvin. All four of the soldiers held laser pistols, even though none of them were pointed at Steropes. “Are you going to come along with us peacefully?”
“I will,” replied Steropes.
“Thank you,” said Calvin. “However, I’ve seen you fight up close, so I think the following is just a good precaution.” He paused before saying, “Solomon, if Steropes makes any move that could be considered an attack on any of the Terrans onboard the ship, at any time from now on, please use the transporter to transport him one mile in a random direction from the ship.”
“An excellent precaution,” noted Steropes, “although I really was going to come along peacefully.”
Calvin shrugged. “I just didn’t want you to get any ideas,” he said. He motioned toward the door with his pistol. “Let’s go.”
* * * * *
Chapter Forty-Seven
CO’s Conference Room, TSS Vella Gulf, WASP-18 System, August 31, 2020
“I’d just like to know why you did it,” said Commander Sheppard. The acting commanding officer was a large African American man, who was as comfortable directing the operations of the starship as he had been at directing the Naval Academy’s football team as its quarterback.
“Why we did what?” asked Arges.
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Calvin. “Why did the Psiclopes take down the Alliance of Civilizations? Why were you on our planet? Why are we running around the galaxy? Are there really any Drakuls near Earth? I’d love to know the answers to all of those questions. Feel free to pick any one of those questions and just get started on answering all of them.”
“The fact that we are having this conversation indicates that the Mrowry have already told you some of the answers to those questions,” replied Arges, “and the fact that we no longer have control of the ship is indicative that you believe them.”
“Now that we have come to this,” said Steropes. “Does it really matter if they know?”
Arges sighed. “No, I guess it does not,” he replied. “Those questions are not related, so I will attempt to answer them one at a time. As to why we ‘took down’ the Alliance of Civilizations, immortality required it.” He said it as if the response made perfect sense, but from the looks on everyone else’s faces, it was obvious that it did not.
Calvin was the first to answer. “What does that mean?” he asked.
“It all has to do with the rush to immortality,” replied Brontes, who had been quiet the whole time since their capture. “When the process was developed for us to extend our lives, everyone rushed to get it, without thinking of the consequences. I know I did. Barring some sort of violent death, if we got the treatment, we would live forever, or at least a period so long as to not make a difference.”
“I take it immortality didn’t suit you?” asked Commander Sheppard.
“No,” replied Brontes, “it was a big mistake. You have to remember that our religion is based on karma. The good or evil that you do in your life affects where and how you are reborn into your next life. We seek to do good deeds, so that we can continue to be reborn higher and higher on the Wheel of Life, until that point at which we ultimately reach Nirvana. After the treatment, Nirvana was lost to us.”
“I see,” said Calvin. “Since you no longer died, you were never reborn, so you lost the opportunity to move up on the Wheel. By becoming immortal, you lost the ability to go to your version of heaven.”
“Indeed we did,” replied Brontes, “and we had no way to fix it. Our religion holds that we cannot kill a living being, so we couldn’t kill ourselves to break out of the position that we had put ourselves in. We were no longer able to move on. We were stuck in everlasting nothingness.”
“So you engineered a galaxy-wide war to get yourselves killed?” Calvin asked, aghast.
“When you say it that way,” said Steropes, “it doesn’t sound like such a wise plan. It was, however, the only thing that our leaders could come up with. So yes, they engineered a galaxy-wide war so that we could break out of the hold that we had put on our spirits. By doing so, our leaders allowed people to be killed, so they will be reborn lower on the Wheel in their next lives, but not as far as if they had actually done the killing themselves.”
“That has got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Night. “How many civilizations will be destroyed so that you can undo your mistake? That’s ludicrous!”
“As your culture says, ‘it is what it is,’” replied Arges. “Our leaders had to do something, but couldn’t actively be involved in our own deaths. If you think about it, it was really a rather elegant solution to the problem.”
“It was not!” yelled Night. “Wiping out entire civilizations is not the answer. You should have come to me; I’d have killed you all myself.”
“We couldn’t do that,” said Steropes. “That would be participating in our own deaths, which would have been forbidden. It had to be something we had no control over. And getting mad at us is unnecessary. We had nothing to do with it.”
“That’s just insane,” muttered Commander Sheppard, still unable to come to terms with the fact that the
Psiclopes had caused an interstellar war in order to get themselves killed.
“So let me guess,” said Calvin. “You three never gave us all of the things you were capable of, not because of some need to have a planet-wide government, but because you didn’t want us to succeed. You want a hostile civilization to come and wipe us out, so that you can end your miserable lives.”
“No,” replied Steropes, “those prohibitions really do exist, and we have to follow them.”
“I, for one, have no desire to be terminated,” said Brontes. “Nor does my husband, Arges.” From the looks around the table, most of the Terrans hadn’t realized that they were married. “I have tried to help you where I was legally able to, and I hope that you do succeed against the Drakuls. To answer one of your questions, yes, the Drakuls are near your home world. If they find it, they will kill you all. Even if I wanted to die more than anything else in the galaxy, I would not want to be killed by them. Everything that I have ever said about them is true.”
“As the Mrowry may have told you,” said Steropes, “we believe in the acquisition of knowledge. Sometimes it is valuable monetarily; other times, it is valuable spiritually. One of the reasons we were on your planet was to study hero spirits and how they are reborn. It is our life’s work. We have tried to follow certain spirits, watching them to see how the deeds they do in their lives affect what position they are reborn to in their next lives.”
“Even if I believed in being reborn,” replied Commander Sheppard, “which I don’t, how do you track spirits being reborn on a planet of seven billion people?”
“It has become more difficult as the population has grown,” said Steropes. “It was certainly easier when all of you were confined to one island.”
“As you are aware,” said Arges, “we are telepaths. Sometimes I can find minds that have the same feeling as minds that I have touched before. I cannot prove whether they are the same spirit, but I believe they are. We have tried to track certain ones over time. I believe the spirit that inhabits Calvin’s body is the same spirit that was in Zeus’ body several thousands of years ago.”
When the Gods Aren't Gods: Book Two of The Theogony Page 33
