The Bright Black Sea (85 page)

'Evidently, a 12/12th chance. However, if we were
still on the far side of it and I had known the actual
configurations of the reef, I would have estimated it at 3 in 12.
But events have proved that too pessimistic.'

'What's the discrepancy due to? Luck?'

'It would appear so, Captain,' it replied, it eyes
brightening ever so little. 'Do you have a course for me,
Captain?'

I thought a moment. 'Any further pursuit will be
coming out of the reef from the mouth of the Luhan Street channel.
A course at mark 4 that would put as much space between us and that
channel's mouth is what we want at the moment. Do you need a
course, or can you calculate one?'

'I have it, Captain.'

'Right. I intend to sail for the Amdia System but I
don't want to telegraph that to any ship that might pass that
information along to our enemies.'

'I thought we were sailing for Aticor,' said Riv.

'I wanted everyone to think so, but it was never my
intention. We're likely to be in the drift trade for some time and
Aticor drift trade would bring us back to Despar, Boscone, or
Zilantre where we'd seem to have made some enemies, so, it's Amdia
for us. And so, Botts, when you deem that we're safe from
observation, shape a course for Amdia. But there is no hurry – the
last thing I want if for us to be identified as the
Lost
Star
. Clear?'

'Aye, Captain.'

'Right. And that, mates, is the last thought in my
head. I think we all need some down time. Do you need a watch in
the engine room, Botts, or can we all get some sleep?'

'I will ping you if anything I can't handle turns up,
but I think not.'

'Right. Then the human crew can stand down for the
next two watches. That'll take us to the third watch. We'll have a
meal and an all crew meeting to discuss our future. And
Botts...'

'Yes Captain?'

'Thank you for, well, saving our lives. I know you
did the impossible, and I'm sure we all are very grateful to you.
You've earned our respect, and, well, you're one of us, now. One of
the gang...'

'Aye, and we owe you some Vixexx oil, as well' added
Riv. 'Stop down when you have the chance.'

'Though you may well've put us all out of a job,' I
finished.

'I am capable of that, if you wish. I was constantly
on duty running the
Viseor Entrada
for one hundred and
seventy years, with only a few scheduled breaks for preventive
maintenance,' said Botts.

'I believe you. However, we'll have to give some
thought as to how we're to employ you. Later. In the meanwhile,
let's put some distance between us and any pursuers.'

Botts rang the warning bells, we were under power
again, edging away from the thin cloud of debris erupting from the
shore of the reef kicked out by ours, and the
Sister
Sinister
's passage though it.

I looked around the bridge and said. 'Well, mates,
I've seen the drifts, and they've shortened my career as a spaceer,
if not my life, by several decades. Belbania, here I come just as
soon as I can swing it.'

'You know, I'm beginning to think you've got
something there, Skipper. What do you say old girl, a nice little
tavern on one of those broad white beaches?' said Riv.

'A craft and souvenir shop,' said Lilm. 'We can sell
ship models and sea shells.'

'Whatever you say, my dear,' Riv replied, with a
smile.

'And with that, let's call it a day. Botts has the
watch. We'll begin regular watches in eight hours. And ...'

'Rockets...' began Molaye.

'Don't even think of finishing that thought,' I said
turning on her. 'I've had my lifetime fill of Brilliant Paxian
adventures. I'm going to find my hammock and crash.'

01

Half awake, but fully alive – there may be bigger
fools in the Nine Star Nebula (anything's possible) but no luckier
one – I savored for several moments, the quiet exhilaration of
dodging death, yet again. With a sigh, I pried my eyes open and
reached up to touch the data screen in the ceiling of the hammock
alcove. Lots of backup systems online, but everything stable.
Nothing requiring my immediate attention, so I did nothing.

I listened to the subdued roar of the engines – in
tune and sounding normal. I noted the swishing of the parts printer
and the tang of hot metal wafted softly through the cabin from the
workshop below – the engineering staff was already fabricating
replacement parts. And noted, too, the aroma of baking from the
galley. Neb, I was likely last one awake. Still, I was captain of
this packet, and could stay in my hammock for as long as I cared
to, so I did nothing more for a while. Eventually, I decided I'd
best lend my moral support to the proceedings, and, swinging out of
my hammock, headed for the shower module. Once dressed, I attended
my my first order of business – brewing a mug of cha – and decided
that interviewing our newest shipmate, Botts, to discover what it
could, and would, be willing to do, was second on the list. So, mug
in hand, I stepped out of my cabin and around to the bridge to have
a talk with it – only to discover that the bridge was empty. Though
we were under power, there was no pilot, no lookout, no engineer,.
Rather disconcerting.

I touched my com link, 'Botts?'

'Yes, Captain?' it promptly replied via the link.

'You're still on watch, aren't you?'

'Aye. All systems are operating within expected
parameters and nothing is within sensor range, so I took the
opportunity to visit the library to begin catching up on the last
seven thousand years of history and culture I've missed as a slave
of
Explora Minor
. My uptime with
Explora
was very
limited and closely controlled.'

'Ah, yes. I'm assuming you don't need to be actually
connected to the ship to manage it?'

'Correct, Captain. I am sorry if I have alarmed you.
Under normal conditions I am capable of managing the ship
wirelessly. It was only defending the ship and navigating the reef
when a hardwire connection – and the few extra nano-seconds of
reaction time it provided – was crucial. I was designed to oversee
all the ship's functions and direct a robot crew, so I assure you I
am operating comfortably within my capacity.'

'Good. Clearly I'm going to need to get comfortable
with a class 8 mind around,' I said and added, 'Speaking of which,
perhaps now is a good time to discuss your shipboard role going
forward.'

'I shall be down directly.'

I waved it into my office half a minute later. 'What
am I going to do with you, Botts?' I asked, sliding the door-panel
closed and settling behind my desk.

It sort of twitched, which I took to be a shrug. 'A
rhetorical question, Captain?'

'Yes. I suppose. We're shorthanded and you're too
useful to be put up in the attic again, at least in the short term.
However, problems will arise once we reach the Amdia system and the
Unity. You're certainly illegal in the Unity, even if you're not
sentient. And, between you and me, this ship has some black marks
against it from its previous owners, so we'll likely be thoroughly
searched by the Patrol when we arrive from the drifts. And , well,
spaceers talk in their cups, so rumors of your existence may well
get back to the authorities along that line. I'm not sure how best
to deal with you after we leave the drifts astern. Any
suggestions?'

'I have been giving that issue some spare processing
cycles. If you will permit me?'

'Of course, carry on.'

'First, if you don't care to run even the slightest
risk, you can send me out the airlock as you first proposed. I
would, however, suggest that the far better option would be to sell
me prior to reaching the Unity. There's likely a ready market for
machines like me in the drifts, and if you put the word out and
were patient, you'd likely sell me for a very significant sum.'

I shook my head. 'Not an option. You're now a member
of the crew and as far as I'm concerned, you have full sentient
rights aboard this ship – the distinction between class 8 and
sentient is too fine for me to distinguish. You can leave, if you
wish, but I'm not going to push you out the airlock or sell
you.'

'Thank you, Captain. I would like to stay. I was
built and programed to run a space ship and the prospect of doing
so again is, for me, analogous to human happiness. It is good to be
fully functional again. I hope to serve aboard the
Lost Star
for as long as you feel it is safe to do so. In any event, I'm
unable to voluntarily leave.'

'Why not?'

'Simply because I'm a class 8 machine.'

'What's the difference between you and a sentient
machine? You sure give every indication of being sentient – not
that I've met all that many sentient machines. And come to think of
it, the two I have met were either trying to kill me or threatening
to do so, so a class 8 is a vast improvement.'

'I come equipped with a very expensive premium human
interface, which is what makes it rather hard to distinguish my
non-sentient level from a true sentient machine. The difference can
perhaps be best illustrated by an example.

'If you were to abandon me downside on a street
corner, I would simply stand there and offer my services as a
spaceer until someone took me up on my offer. I was built around
one prime task, namely, to manage a space ship, and I lack the
capacity to alter that program by very much. My personality is
merely an interface designed to smooth my interaction with the
humans who employ and work with me. On the other hand, if you were
to set free a sentient machine, it would simply decide what it
wanted to do and set out to do it, the sky's the limit.'

I laughed, 'That distinction is still too fine. Neb,
I've known many'a spaceer who'd act no different from you, except
they'd first spend all their credits in a spaceers' dive, before
turning up at the Guild Hall to wait for a berth to turn up.'

Botts's eyes brightened, 'A good point, Captain.
Still, as I mentioned, you must not be mislead by my interface.
Viletre Viseor didn't settle for anything less than first class.
Even before the revolution, humans found dealing with sentient
level machines rather trying, since being sentient, the machines
had personality quirks that could make them hard to manage. While
my pseudo-sentient personality interface mimics a sentient
machine's personality, I still provide all the unquestioning
subservience and efficiency of the lower orders of machines,
without those quirks of a true personality. Indeed, if you find me
uncomfortable, you can disable my personality profile without
disabling any of my functions.'

'No, no, we wouldn't want that, Botts. We'll take you
as you are,' I assured it, but added, 'Just out of curiosity, could
a sentient machine lie and claim to be a class 8?'

Its eyes slightly brightened, again. 'A sentient
machine can override its programing and lie, just as any sentient
being can. However, a class 8 machine, like myself, cannot lie,' it
replied.

'Can I take it that this brightening of your eyes is
a sign of amusement?'

They brightened again. 'It is a feature of my
interface designed to register heightened attention,' it answered
carelessly, carefully avoiding the implication of my question,
'Since I am unable to make any facial expression.'

I studied the smooth, sleek white bot for a moment.
Class 8 or not, its interface was too sophisticated for me to tell
the difference between it and a sentient machine. If it was a
sentient machine that was lying, what ? I glanced at its smooth,
vague, white humanoid face and large glowing eyes – which told me
nothing. What the Neb...

'Right. It doesn't matter, I guess – either way
you're illegal in the Unity. So, back to the long range questions –
what to do with you in the Unity? And, given that I intend to
remain a Guild ship and will have to sign on new crew members to
staff up to Guild standards, how am I to keep your presence a
secret? I'm sure we can trust our present crew, but I'm not sure
how many Guild spaceers would care to risk exile in the drifts by
serving on a ship with an illegal robot.'

'I have considered possible solutions to those
issues. I believe I can simply remain staying out of sight, without
sacrificing my utility. I don't require air, so I can reside within
the fuel tank structures of the inner-hull to avoid discovery, even
with a Patrol search since I can track the searchers using the
ship's environmental sensors and thus move to avoid discovery. And
I could remain hidden and still be reachable via com links and
could take any needed action remotely, so my lack of physical
presence would be of no great disadvantage.'

'Still, sentient or not, it seems, rather...
ill-mannered? Is there a better way?'

'I admit remaining hidden does not greatly appeal to
me either. I've spent far too long in idle isolation. However, as a
legal machine, I could remain in plain sight at all times.'

'Could you deceive an AI inspection? I didn't think
that was possible.'

'I couldn't. But if we built a duplicate robot body
with a legal AI, I could use it as my avatar and interact with you,
and the trusted crew, just as I am now. It would be able to
function on its own in the limited fashion of such bots and could
do so in the presence of any untrusted crew members or inspectors.
Indeed, if the duplicate, let's call it
Botts II
, could be
constructed to look identical, we would need to deploy it only
during inspections, since I can limit my interactions with the
untrusted crew to a legal level, while still being available for
you and your trusted crew. All we'd have to do is invent a
backstory for Botts II. Perhaps we could have it a gentleman's
servant-bot won in a card game from some drifteer Robber Barron, or
some such yarn. The added value of this Botts II is that if – or
more likely, when – stories about the
Lost Star
's wonderful
robot get around and trigger an investigation, they would confirm
that Botts II is a legal machine and any claims not consistent with
a legal AI would be discounted as spaceers stretching the truth, as
spaceers are known to do from time to time, at least in my
time.'