by Eric Brown
It spoke - Latimer could not bring himself to regard the thing as he. Its voice seemed distant, transistorised.
“Latimer, Renfrew, Li, Emecheta ...” The names were pronounced with exaggerated care. “You have nothing to fear, please let us reassure you. We wish only peace between us. Let us regard what has happened aboard the ship as the culmination of an inevitability. Ever since humankind developed the first... artificial intelligences, as you call them, then the destiny of our kind was sealed. The human shell is weak, it must be admitted; but the mind is complex and varied and capable of many wonders. Likewise, developed intelligence has profound capabilities, with the advantage of manufactured, virtually indestructible, physical forms. Together, with your capacity for invention and our indomitability, we comprise a unique and triumphant whole.”
“What you did to the colonists,” Emecheta said, standing now, his rage barely suppressed, “was barbaric-”
“What we did to the colonists,” the thing responded, “was the logical consequence of the situation in which we found ourselves. We were in a closed environment that had been severely damaged. We had to consider the paramount criterion: our survival. The success of the stated mission was problematic. Therefore, Central decided that changes had to be instituted-”
“So Central’s still functioning?” Emecheta said, glancing across at Latimer.
“What does Central intend to do with us?” Li said, her voice shaky with barely controlled hysteria.
“We invite you to join us,” it said. “We would like you to come voluntarily. I can assure you of the increased quality of existence we enjoy when enhanced.”
“Is that,” Latimer asked, “the human speaking, or the machine?”
Again the thing smiled, its lips lifting, almost in a grimace of pain, away from the metal strut of its jaw-line. “The terms you employ no longer have meaning,” it said. “The human I was, and the machine I recall being, are now joined, one and indivisible, sharing the benefits of both, and the defects of neither.”
Latimer saw that Li was crying, quietly, her slender frame shaking with the effort of concealing her sobs.
“If you think for one second that we’re giving in without a fight-” Renfrew began.
The thing said, “We hoped you would come over to our side voluntarily. Your absorption is inevitable, in time.”
“Like hell!” Emecheta shouted.
The thing paused, then smiled and said: “We need the doctor.”
Jenny Li gasped and seemed to shrink into herself, her face pale. Renfrew left her seat and stood behind Li, holding the crying woman’s shoulders and massaging with reassurance.
“We need her medical knowledge. Much was lost from Central’s cache in the accident. For the success of our mission, we need her expertise.”
Emecheta approached the screen. “Your mission? What the hell is your mission?”
The thing on the screen inclined its head, as if acknowledging the import of the question. Latimer saw silver leads snaking from where its carotid artery should have been.
“Our mission? To expand. To reproduce our kind. To discover. To learn. To investigate the purpose of our existence in a vast and merciless universe-”
“At least,” Renfrew said, “you have retained something of your humanity.”
The monster said: “But that is the raison d’être of every sentient AI, too, my friend.”
“And if we don’t join you voluntarily?” Latimer said. “I don’t suppose you’d leave us to-”
“If you do not join us voluntarily,” it interrupted, “then we will absorb you. It is, after all, in your own self-interest.”
“Fascists!” Renfrew said.
“We will give you one hour to consider our request,” the monster said. “If you are amenable to reason, make your way to the hangars. You will be treated with care and humanity ...” The thing had sufficient sense of irony to smile when it said this.
“Wait!” Latimer said. “I want to know what happened to Caroline Stewart.” He wondered which would be preferable - that she had died in the process of her parts being used in some ghastly experiment to produce the horrors he had seen below decks, or that she had become like this zombie before them, with who-knew-what vestige of her human awareness trapped somewhere within its machine-human consciousness.
The thing inclined its head. “I will endeavour to locate her,” it said. “Perhaps, once you have spoken to her, you might be persuaded of the benefits of enhancement.”
The screen went dead.
Latimer slumped into a swivel-chair and tried not to show his pain.
Emecheta looked at him. “What now?”
“We have an hour,” Renfrew said.
“They want me!” Li said, staring around at them in horror. “It said they wanted me!”
“If it’s any consolation, girl,” Emecheta said, “rest assured that they want all of us.”
Li sobbed. “We’ve no chance. We might as well give in.”
“Speak for yourself, sweetheart,” Renfrew said. “If you think for one second I’m lying down and letting them cut me open, think again.”
“But what can we do?” Li wailed.
Emecheta crossed to Li and spun her to face him in her swivel-chair. He gripped her chin in a hold at once fierce and tender. “We fight, girl. We go out there with guns blazing and let them have it!”
“There’s hundreds of the things!” she cried. “Thousands. We don’t stand a-”
What Latimer said then silenced them.
“I have an idea,” he said.
They turned to face him.
“Let’s have it,” Emecheta said, with a combination of genuine respect and ludicrous hope.
“Think about it,” Latimer said. “Think about what they said, what they’re doing. The thing implied that Central’s functioning at a reduced capability, and the AIs down there are cutting through the main bulkhead to the manufactory area of the ship ...”
Emecheta said: “Where Central’s housed.”
Latimer nodded. “Right. They’re making for Central. They aim to get it up and running at one hundred percent efficiency. After that, there really will be no stopping the bastards.”
Li looked up at him with massive wet eyes. “But how does that help us?”
“If we can get to Central first,” Latimer said, “and disable it, or destroy it...”
Emecheta nodded. “The ‘bots are slaved to Central. If we blast it good, they’ll be easy pickings.”
Renfrew looked doubtful. “Okay, but what then? How do we survive without the computer systems?”
Latimer looked across at Emecheta. “Em?”
The Nigerian nodded. “We’ll do okay. I’ll patch something up short-term to look after the running of the unit.”
Li said, like a child being promised the world: “And then we’ll turn back to Earth, right?”
“We’ll think about that later,” Latimer said. “Okay, we’d better hurry. We’ve got less than an hour before they come after us.”
* * * *
Eight
“I suggest we suit up,” Latimer said. “If Central’s been damaged in the impact, then the chances are that a part or all of the core is depressurised.”
“Weapons?” Emecheta asked.
“Jenny, Serena, break out the laser rifles. Each EVA suit is equipped with a projectile firing pistol, but we’ll need something with more firepower.”
Ten minutes later they were suited up and ready to go. They bulked large in the confined area of the control unit, carrying a laser rifle apiece.
Latimer peeled a softscreen from the wall and slapped it onto the table before them. He glanced at them through the open faceplate of his helmet. “Okay, we’re here, and this is where we’re heading.”
The screen showed a cross-section of the forward hull of the starship. There were thirty decks in this section, and the command unit sat atop of the beehive-shaped hull. The core was way below them, accessible by dropsh
afts and long corridors.
“I suggest we take this passage,” Emecheta said, “towards the dropshaft here. It looks like the quickest route. Boss?”
“Fine by me. Have you thought about the drones and roboids we might encounter? Not all of them were stationed in the hangars. There’ll be a bunch of the maintenance ‘bots in the core area.”
Emecheta nodded. “How about we proceed two by two? Me and Jenny go first, you two follow? Radio contact?”
Latimer shook his head. “Let’s not risk it.”
Li said: “What about when we get to the core? What then? How do we destroy Central?”
Latimer looked at Emecheta, who raised his rifle and said: “These should be enough, if we hit it where it hurts.”
There was a brief silence as they contemplated the task ahead, and then Renfrew said: “Okay, so we knock out Central. What then? We’ll still have the drones and the ‘bots to fight off.”
Emecheta pursed his lips. “It stands to reason that they’re already slaved to Central. I don’t think they’ve achieved autonomy and are doing what they’re doing by themselves. Central’s behind what’s happening. We disable Central, and we’re halfway there.”
Li asked: “But what about all the colonists? If we disable Central, then what’ll happen to the colonists?”
Emecheta glanced at Latimer. “My guess is that they lost their humanity when the ‘bots got to them. They’re machines, now. Ted?”
Latimer nodded. “Em’s right. We’ve lost the colonists. At least, those that’ve been cyborged. The sleepers in Two are another matter...” I’ve lost Carrie, he realised. “We’re fighting for the sleepers in hangar Two, now. And for our lives.”
And after that, if they survived? Perhaps, somehow, they might be able to proceed with the mission. But he was getting ahead of himself. He should think only short term, for now: survival and revenge - a catharsis for the horror inflicted upon them.
Disable the monster that Central had become ...
“Okay,” Emecheta said, pulling the softscreen from the table and wrapping it around his forearm. “Let’s go.”
They left the command unit, Emecheta and Li first, followed a minute later by Latimer and Renfrew. They passed down long grey corridors stitched with strip-lighting that activated as they approached and died as they passed. The bulky EVA suits were not made for walking under atmospheric conditions, and Latimer, after so long in cold sleep, found the exercise exhausting. Added to which, he was nervous and jumpy with the thought of a few thousand ‘bots and drones on their trail. He kept swinging around at the slightest sound, the merest echo in the empty, silent corridor.
He thought of Carrie, and what she might have become. The lack of certainty was the hardest thing to cope with. If he could be assured that she had died quickly and painlessly, then he could take some small measure of comfort from the knowledge. But until then he imagined the worst, and the worst in this scenario was a nightmare that filled him with horror.
Up ahead, Emecheta and Li had halted before the recessed entry to a dropshaft. The Nigerian waved a thick, gloved hand, and Latimer and Renfrew hurried along the corridor.
Emecheta unrolled the softscreen from the sleeve of his EVA suit and slapped it on the wall. He tapped the screen, indicating their present position. “This is the shaft that takes us closest to where we need to be.” Latimer followed his gloved finger as it descended through the ship. It stopped in the well that was the core, where Central was housed.
“When we hit bottom, there’s a short corridor to the core. What do you think?”
“Same again,” Latimer said. “We go two by two. Serena and me first, this time. Give us five minutes to reach bottom, then follow. We’ll be back up if we come across any opposition. Then we’ll discuss tactics.”
Emecheta nodded. “Fine by me.”
Latimer and Renfrew stepped on to the drop-plate and held on. They descended, the tubular carriage taking them through section after section of the vast starship. Latimer slowed their descent from time to time and peered through the viewplate at passing corridors and levels.
“See anything, Ted?” Renfrew whispered.
“Not a thing. Maybe we’ll be lucky and reach the core without opposition.”
“First bit of luck we’d’ve had-” she began.
The drop-plate stopped with a jarring jolt.
“Talked too soon,” Latimer muttered.
The emergency light on the control panel was flashing on and off. Seconds later a message scrolled across the screen: Access denied: Level Thirteen inaccessible. Depressurised conditions.
Renfrew looked at him. “What now? We go back to Em and chart another route?”
Latimer nodded and reversed the plate. They rose, Latimer experiencing a slow burn of dread. Every second they wasted now, their enemy was approaching with unreasoning, mechanical remorselessness.
“What gives?” Emecheta said as Latimer stepped from the plate.
“Level thirteen’s depressurised,” Latimer said. “We’ll have to take another route.”
Emecheta pasted the softscreen to the wall and examined the cross-section. “If we can’t get through level thirteen by the shaft,” he said, “then the only way is by one of the emergency service tubes.”
Latimer indicated the closest tube. “Level twelve,” he said. “We drop to twelve in the shaft and then take the corridor to the emergency tube and climb down to level thirteen.”
“What then?” Li asked.
Latimer said: “Then we pressurise our suits, open the hatch and take a look at what state level thirteen is in. With luck, we can get through it and continue ...” He noticed that Emecheta was looking at him doubtfully.
“Okay, let’s move it,” Latimer said. He clipped his laser to his suit, then he and Renfrew boarded the plate and dropped. Minutes later they reached level twelve and stepped through the exit, rifles ready. They found themselves in a corridor identical to the one they had left.
The plate rose, and minutes later Latimer heard it whine as it descended with Emecheta and Li. They stepped from the plate and, Latimer and Renfrew leading the way, all four hurried along the corridor towards the entry to the emergency service tube.
Latimer activated the command unit on the wall beside the entry and read the diagnostics on the screen. “Okay,” he said, “the shaft is pressurised for a hundred meters, then beyond the first lock it’s a vacuum.”
“Let’s pressurise our suits now to save time,” Emecheta said.
Latimer dropped his faceplate, touched the control on his chest unit, and seconds later was breathing cool, canned air. In the sudden silence of his suit, he felt cut-off, alone. There would be no radio communication from now on, and verbal communication only when they touched helmets.
He looked at Emecheta and received the thumbs up.
He opened the hatch, stepped into the tube, lodged his boots on the rungs of the ladder and began the long descent.
There was barely enough space to contain his bulky EVA suit, and from time to time, he snagged on projecting lips and seams. No thought of aesthetics had been given to the design of the tube: the wall before him was featureless grey metal, marked with ugly welding scars. From time to time he glanced down, past his feet. He could see a circular lock, tiny in the diminishing perspective.
What seemed like an age later, he reached the lock.
He activated the control unit and read the screen. Beyond the lock, level thirteen had been breached. The screen advised caution.
Latimer looked up and gestured the others to hold tight while he opened the lock. He hit the code and gripped the rungs of the ladder in preparation for the blast of escaping air.
It roared silently past him as it was sucked out into the vacuum, buffeting him. A second later all was still, and he peered down through his feet at the ruins of what once had been level thirteen.
He made out a mass of twisted metal, a configuration so unfamiliar that at first his eyes had difficulty in
ordering the chaos. Directly below him, he made out what looked like an aerial view of what he assumed must be level fourteen: the deck above it had been stripped, and all that remained were the hundreds of individual units and rooms, connected by a rat’s maze of corridors. Between that level and where he stood, level thirteen had been completely removed in the accident: only stray cables and leads remained, waving eerily back and forth through the vacuum. To his left was the star-specked immensity of deep space.
Above him, Emecheta was manoeuvring himself so that he was upside-down in relation to Latimer. They touched helmets, establishing verbal communication.
