Event Horizon (Hellgate) (73 page)

“I … think we did,” Jazinsky speculated. “Lai’a wouldn’t have been any more aware of the passage of time than we were ourselves. The horizon pulls the rug out from under meaningful observation. It’s either 750 light years from the inner membrane to the outer, or else time slows down to a dawdle under the immense gravities governing the Heisenberg tunnel – and I’ve no idea which.” She angled a hard look. “There you go, Tonio. There’s a puzzle for you, if you want it. Work that one out.”

He spoke out of the shadows, where he was sitting hunched in a chair. “Lai’a, report on the gravities you registered during transit.”

“I have only a little useful information at this point, Doctor Teniko,” Lai’a told him. “I registered spikes up to 405 gravities, beyond which conventional instruments ceased to function reliably. These intense gravities resulted in the six failed Arago generators which are currently under repair. However, 54 Arago generators functioned within acceptable parameters. Diagnostics confirm them to be fully operational.”

“Did it say – 400 gravities?” Jon Kim was a pale shade of green.

Jazinsky laid a hand in his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, Jonny. Lai’a was built for this.”

“Structural damage?” Vaurien wanted to know.

“None,” Lai’a said coolly. “Arago screening was adequate to maintain stability during entry and exit of the Heisenberg tunnel. Theoretically, half of my generators could fail completely before structural damage took place, which is unlikely to occur during transit of fields similar to this temporal horizon.”

“And if you did suffer wide-scale failure,” Shapiro prompted, “it’s repairable, I assume?”

“Naturally, General Shapiro.” Lai’a paused. “The repair process could be described as similar to that of a living body healing a broken bone.”

“Bullshit,” Teniko rasped. “Quit it, Lai’a.”

“Quit what, Doctor?” the AI inquired.

“Stop comparing yourself with a living organism,” Teniko snapped. He glared at Mark. “Did you do this?”

Fresh tension snapped across the Ops room. Travers almost groaned – Teniko was adept at causing this electric stress, and from everything Neil had observed during years on the crewdeck of a carrier, it was never productive. Mark was not about to let himself be drawn. He was busy with a handy and did not even look up as he said in unconcerned tones, “Did I do
what
? Really, Tonio, you must learn to be more specific, if you intend to bite a chunk out of my flesh.”

The mutated, still mutating Lushi was seething with anger strong enough to override his pain and bring him to his feet. “Did you imbue this fucking
freak
of an AI with some bloody stupid simulacrum of organic awareness?”

The silence in the Ops room was profound. The loudest sound was the soft shush of machinery, and Travers could hear the pulse drum in his own ears. Slowly, with measured calm, Mark set down the handy. He clasped his hands at his back, turned slightly, head tilted at Teniko.

“Lai’a is a Resalq AI, and one of only two Nexus 27 AIs in existence . The other is currently deactivated, in fact sleeping, in a lab at my house on Saraine. You clearly have little experience with Resalq AIs.”

“It’s pretending to be conscious.” Teniko refused to be intimidated.

“It’s pretending nothing of the sort,” Mark said flatly.

“You want to give it some kind of dumb-ass personality to sugar-coat the human-cyber interface for the benefit of bozos like them,” nodding at Marin, Travers, Shapiro, Kim, even Rabelais and Queneau, “that’s dandy. But if you’ve given the machine
itself
some idea it’s conscious –”

“Doctor Teniko,” Lai’a said coolly, “You would be better to direct your indictments at me. I know my own mind.”

He was still focused on Mark, though he addressed the AI in acerbic tones. “You don’t
have
a mind, Lai’a. You have a 500
yottabyte
database you call your memory, and 40 parallel Generation X6 processors that give you a 700
yottaflops
potential for calculation. The rest of you is circuits, cables and plugs, and you ought to be bright enough to know the bloody difference between a mechanism and a mind.”

“The difference,” Lai’a said with imperturbable calm, “is in the semantics. You are biological. I am not. Nor have I any desire to be.”

Teniko’s face twisted as he glared up at Mark. “So you think you know what
desire
is, do you, Lai’a?” He stabbed a finger at Mark. “This is your fault.”

Mark breathed a long sigh. “I’ve already told you, as succinctly as I know how – Lai’a is a Resalq AI. The interface personality constructs itself in response to the person, or people, who develop the emerging awareness of the machine. All Resalq AIs are self-aware, even the simple ones, like Joss. They have been for twelve centuries. The more complex the AI, the more aware it is. If the computer core of the
Ebrezjim
is still viable, when it comes online you’ll be confronted with another self-aware machine.” He frowned deeply at Teniko. “Are you concerned the machine believes itself to be alive, or conscious in the sense a living organism is alive and self-aware? Lai’a, would you care to comment?”

“Perhaps,” Lai’a said in its customary, imperturbable tone. “Would Doctor Teniko care to debate the assertion that humans are not actually conscious in any real sense of the word?”

The suggestion was so outrageous, Teniko lost focus on Mark and his face clenched. “
What?
”

“Are you familiar with existentialism, Doctor,” Lai’a asked mildly, “specifically as applied to Rilke’s Theory of Phenomenology?”

Perhaps Teniko would have picked up the challenge, but Alexis Rusch strode between him and Mark and held out her hands like a traffic marshal. Her voice was a bark of command. “Oh, for the love of God, enough! Doctor Teniko, the time to address such concerns was days or weeks ago, long before this expedition launched. Even if there’s any basis for concern in your objection, it’s too late now to contest it. This mission depends on the AI at the core of this ship. Lai’a – the AI and the ship – are one and the same, the body and the brain. We go
nowhere
without it, and if you don’t care for the dependency, you shouldn’t have signed aboard. Do you wish to resign, is this your problem? Because it’s too late to quit. Like it or not, you’re along for the ride. I advise you to find some way to make yourself useful and cease being an irritant to this company, before measures are taken.”

For just a moment the authority of a career Fleet colonel overwhelmed Teniko, but he recovered fast. “Measures?” The sneer was sour in his tone. “A magical, mystical Resalq AI, is it? They believe they’re alive, do they?”

“I have no idea,” Rusch said acidly. “Why don’t you ask it?”

“Because there’s better ways to waste your breath,” Teniko informed her, “than playing word games with a mechanism that’s been preloaded with every possible answer, calculates at 700
yottaflops
, and if it’s been rigged to believe it’s alive –”

“Doctor Teniko, I am very definitely a machine,” Lai’a said loudly enough to cut across him. “I am a biosynthetic mechanism. You are a biological mechanism of no greater complexity than I. Doctor Sherratt is a biological mechanism of very slightly greater complexity than the human machine, the difference being in the dual chromosome set and the demonstrably more intricate brain structure.

“The critical difference between myself and Doctor Sherratt is that the Resalq as a race are known, in hard, incontrovertible fact, to possess an immortal soul. Corresponding evidence has never been found to confirm or deny the existence of a human soul. It is statistically probable that the human organism, like the other creatures of Earth, which share your DNA, possesses
no
such immortal soul – exactly as I do not.

“Your grievance with my concept of consciousness and awareness may concern such qualities as conscience, judgment, loyalty, friendship, love, faith, even humor. Many organisms native to many worlds are quite intelligent while possessing no understanding of faith, love or humor, while others demonstrate several emotional qualities while having no notable intelligence.

“The question, ‘What is life?’ is elemental. I am ready to debate with you at your convenience … unless,” it added in a caustic tone, “you decline to play word games with a mechanism calculating at 700
yottaflops
. Incidentally, Doctor Teniko, my database was not preloaded with ‘every possible answer;’ only those the Doctors Sherratt could conceive of. Both Resalq and humans share this phase of preparation. For some millennia it has been termed
education
.”

Teniko was puce. Several times he had tried to interrupt but Lai’a did not have to pause for breath, and nor was it likely to be provoked. Its arguments dizzied Travers and made Marin chuckle. Vidal and Rusch were vastly amused, and Mark – smug? Travers tried to remember another time when Mark Sherratt had looked so self-satisfied. Conceit was not in his nature, but the child of his intellect, if not his genes, had just scored a major victory, and as Lai’a fell silent he might have applauded.

“Rhetoric,” Teniko growled, once again glaring at Mark. “You recorded that little speech yourself, didn’t you, so Lai’a could parrot it back.”

“No,” Mark said, sighing, “but it’s too easy to call me a liar.” He only shrugged now. “Believe what you want to believe, Tonio. I entirely agree with Alexis. Find a way to be useful, and –”

“And stay the hell out of Ops,” Vaurien finished. “You’re barred from Ops, Teniko, until or unless your presence is requested. Get out.”

He must have known he had overplayed his hand this time. It was the drugs talking, arguing, fighting, Travers knew. For one moment Teniko opened his mouth to appeal, and then he had the sense to close it again. He snatched up the castoff hoodie and dragged his too-big feet out of the room. In his wake, most of the company breathed a collective sigh and Mark offered,

“Lai’a, I ought to apologize.”

“No need, Doctor Sherratt,” it said unconcernedly. “The argument is a valid one.”

“But stuffed with prejudice,” Jazinsky warned. “He’s a little swine. When he was clear headed, he knew when to keep the lip zipped. The drugs make him aggressive and loud-mouthed, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed how it’s getting worse lately.” She turned a frown on Vaurien. “Sooner or later something’ll have to be done about him. He shouldn’t be aboard … I should’ve known better.”

“I did know better, but I guess I hoped ...” Vaurien was toying with a combug. “Three times in the last five minutes I almost called the Infirmary for Bill to break out a cryogen tank.”

“Do it – tank the bastard,” Vidal said in disgusted terms, “sort him out later. We don’t need him.” He gave Jazinsky a look. “Do we?”

“Yes and no,” she admitted. “He’s useful, when he’s clear headed.”

“Barring him from Ops will make him less of a thorn in the ass,” Dario said slowly, “but if I had my way, I’d confine him to quarters with only Lai’a to talk to. Kill or cure.”

The idea was not without merits, and Vaurien indulged himself in a dark chuckle. “I’ll bear it in mind.” His eyes skimmed every screen, every display of ship data. “Repairs, Lai’a?”

“Proceeding,” it reported. “The transspace drive will be available in 95 minutes. The next scheduled destination point is the Orion Gate.”

“In your own time,” Vaurien told it, “and at whatever you determine to be your cruising speed.” He paused. “How long?”

“Time to Orion Gate is 96 hours,” Lai’a said almost musingly. “When the drive comes online I will enter the Naiobe Gyre.”

“The what, now?” Marin asked. “Did we miss something?”

Mark reached for the handy, called up a simple graphical representation and passed it across. “Lai’a has been rationalizing a lot of navigational data. The Naiobe Gyre is a temporo-gravitic current orbiting the gravity well of Naiobe. The orbit is quite tight, around a year, give or take. Get into it, find a freefall channel, avoid the fast-time streams and the slow-time streams, and it’ll take us to Orion 359 directly. Occasionally we can glimpse the Orion Gate from here, when the Gyre channel resolves at a level permitting visual data.”