The Lost Command (Lost Starship Series Book 2) (16 page)

“What happened to you?” Maddox asked the AI. “Why have you become hostile to your former friends?”

Dana closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Friends?” the AI asked. “You stole my wits and turned me off. You used my precious ship to fight entities that I bear no malice. You used my race’s last possession. That wasn’t an act of friendship. It was piracy, theft. No, Captain Maddox, we are not reuniting as friends. I am about to sit in judgment over you and your people. After I execute you in the name of justice, then I will begin my war with Earth, scrubbing your vile species from the star lanes.”

-16-

Valerie piloted A-105 through a vast cargo bay, sailing into a lit hangar inside Starship
Victory
. On the deck waited several strikefighters and shuttles. There was none of the alien craft that had been there the first time they had done this in the Beyond.

“Do you really think you can talk the AI out of killing us?” Dana asked.

“At this point in the affair,” Maddox said, “that’s the wrong sort of question to ask. You should encourage me with hope instead of planting seeds of doubts.”

Dana made a harsh sound. “Maybe that’s true. I didn’t come all this way to die, though, because an alien AI got a spur up its rear regarding justice. You have to outthink it.”

“I can hardly match its IQ,” Maddox said.

Dana’s mouth firmed. “Now you’re making me doubt. I thought—”

“Not now,” Maddox said, annoyed. “You must allow me to relax so I can operate at peak efficiency.”

“No!” Dana said. “You must gather your resolve to fight with every ounce of effort you possess.”

Riker stepped up, clearing his throat. The doctor whirled around.

“The captain has his own ways,” Riker explained. “They are not your ways, you understand. If he wants a moment’s peace before the hurricane, I suggest you give it to him. In fact—”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Maddox said. “You’ve made your point.”

Riker nodded, backing away.

Dana turned from the captain with her head bowed. Finally, she faced Maddox again. “You’re right. I’m on edge. You do know what you’re doing. I made the mistake with the AI, and you’ve come all the way from Earth to help me make it right. Instead of being angry with you, I’m going to be grateful. Please, accept my apology.”

“There’s no need,” Maddox said, “but if it makes you feel better, of course I accept it, Doctor. Now, I need a few moments of peace to think.”

“Of course,” she said.

Soon, the shuttle landed gently. Valerie tapped her panel. The engine whined down, and the subtle vibration no longer shifted the deck plates under their feet.

“We’re here,” Valerie said, turning toward them.

As if cued, the speakers came on. “Captain Maddox,” the AI said in its mechanical fashion. “You will come alone. I no longer trust having your crew like scampers running loose as I address you. I remember what happened last time.”

“Scampers?” Maddox asked.

“An alien form of infestation,” Dana explained quietly. “It was a small creature akin to Earth rats.”

“Do you mind if I bring the doctor with me?” Maddox asked the starship.

“Alone,” the AI said. “The word is quite sufficient.”

“Please wait here,” Maddox told the others, rising.

“One last thing,” Dana said.

Maddox regarded her.

“The AI is lonely,” Dana said, quietly, “but I’m not sure it realizes the situation. The engrams of the last commander are still imprinted on the cores. Remember that.”

Maddox had never forgotten, but he nodded. Then, he headed for the hatch.

***

Maddox eased open the last shuttle hatch, stepping through onto Starship
Victory
. He walked across the hangar bay, noticing that the chamber was several factors larger than Octavian Nerva’s suite in Monte Carlo.

The captain wore his Star Watch uniform and jacket, with his long-barreled gun strapped to his ribs. Otherwise, he possessed only his wits. This would be more difficult than a year ago in the Beyond. While Star Watch had been studying the machine, the machine had been probing humanity. That would give the AI an advantage compared to last time. Before, the AI hadn’t even been aware of human existence. Now, it was beginning to understand about the Commonwealth.

“Captain,” the AI said.

Maddox stopped.

“You will use the hatch off to your left. Do you see it?”

Maddox scanned the hangar bay. “I do,” he said.

“On the other side is an escort. It will bring you to the bridge.”

Maddox waited, but it appeared the AI had finished talking for the moment. The captain straightened his jacket and continued walking, with his boots ringing on the deck plates. There were no other noises. Soon, he reached the designated hatch. The entrance led into a large, curving corridor that could have handled elephants. Maddox knew there were spider webs of tubular links between the big corridors.

A whipping motion caught the captain’s eye. A robot on mini-tank treads approached. It had a cylindrical stainless-steel body a little taller than Maddox. Eight flexible metallic whips moved as arms or tentacles. The cap of the cylinder had six camera ports so it could conceivably see everywhere.

“Follow the fighting robot,” the AI said through a speaker in the machine.

Maddox did so, studying the robot as he went. It looked formidable, no doubt immune to his gun.

“These aren’t exact models of my originals,” the AI said. “Your primitive Earth technology doesn’t allow me to fully employ my knowledge.”

Maddox wasn’t ready to engage the AI. Instead, he absorbed the mood and character of the machine intelligence as he attempted to marshal his plan of action.

The trek through the massive ship took time. In the Beyond, alien skeletons—Swarm warriors presumably—had littered the corridors in locked embrace with rusted robotic fighters. There had been crusted slime trails everywhere. Now, the halls were pristine like a normal Star Watch vessel. It was like being on a battleship, but on a larger scale, including the engine
thrum
.

Maddox began to steel himself for an intense bout of verbal warfare. He had to attack the AI’s logic if he could. Would the alien computing cores be smarter than before? He suspected so.

In time, Maddox reached
Victory’s
bridge. It showed another profound change to the starship.

The alien chairs were gone. The panels in the circular chamber had human controls instead of the tentacle slots that had been there the first time. The chairs were straight from a Star Watch manual.

“Do you see what they did to my bridge?” the AI asked in a more distinct voice than before.

Maddox looked up with an involuntary start.

An alien walked toward him. It was shorter than he was, with thicker shoulders and thin dangling arms. It wore a jumpsuit with red tags on the chest, symbolizing rank. The alien had a mat of silvery hair and deep-set eyes.

The image’s lips moved as it spoke. “I cannot bring the dead back to life. That is beyond my technical expertise. I have been able to improve on the holo-imaging process, however.” The image examined one of its hands. “It’s remarkable. I can recall the old days of flesh standing here on the bridge…”

The holoimage looked up, frowning. “Your kind changed my bridge. It is no longer like my home.”

Maddox stepped closer. It was time to engage the machine. “Before we begin, I’d like to know exactly whom I address.”

The holoimage cocked its head. “I am the last commander of Starship
Victory
.”

“You mean the artificial intelligence-run holoimage with the last commander’s engrams imprinted on the memory cores.”

“Yes,” the AI said.

“Did that commander have a name?” Maddox asked.

“It stands to reason he did.”

“But you don’t know it?”

The holoimage hesitated before it said, “Are you alluding to Doctor Rich’s failed attempt to recover my past identity?”

“I am,” Maddox said. “Do you suppose there’s a lock on your full, engram-imprinted memories?”

“I…I do not know.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The holoimage didn’t reply.

“Is it possible you can no longer retrieve the data, or was it locked from you in the beginning?” Maddox asked.

“You will cease this line of inquiry,” the holoimage said.

Maddox grew thoughtful. In the Beyond, the AI appeared to have some recollection of its former living identity. Dana believed the AI might be lonely. That was her conclusion after ten months of study. Maddox accepted that loneliness must be the weak link to the ancient computer. The question became, how could he intensify the feeling? The answer was obvious. Clearly, the being hadn’t been human. But it had been alive, likely with emotions. The way to awaken emotions—loneliness in particular—was to reengage the engrams of the last living commander. Maddox decided to appeal to the AI’s pride.

“I don’t understand you,” the captain said. “Rather than discovering the truth about yourself, you would play god with humanity. How can you hand out justice when you don’t even know your own crimes?”

“I have committed none.”

“You must have,” Maddox said. “Surely, that’s why the blocks are in place: to keep you from remembering what you did.”

“I have told you to drop your line of inquiry. If you continue, you shall die this instant.”

“There,” Maddox said. “You’ve just proved my point.”

“Impossible!”

“You clearly want to silence the voice of truth,” Maddox said. “That means—”

“Truth?” the holoimage asked. “You claim to speak the truth? You, who despoiled my lovely vessel? You, who used my starship for your own gain?”

“If you’re going to sit in judgment over humanity, you must first ensure your own worthiness. Otherwise, you risk being a hypocrite. Maybe you were originally a great criminal. That’s why they locked away your engrams for all these years.”

“Your slurs are baseless,” the holoimage said. “My race was the noblest in the universe. They would not engage a criminal as their greatest commander.”

“It’s easy to say that when you don’t know a thing about your real self,” Maddox said.

“Enough,” the holoimage said. “I shall show you the fraud of your insults.”

The holoimage froze. Seconds later, the lights in the panels began to blink on and off. Ship engine noises revved, and the deck plates under Maddox’s feet shivered with power.

The captain grew uneasy as this continued. Were the engram-blocks that difficult to overcome? Why would any of that affect the engines and the panel lights?

The holoimage shifted as it unfroze. The features seemed to melt and screw up into an agonizing image of pain. Then the last alien commander screamed.

It made the hairs rise on the back of Maddox’s neck. The scream continued, making the captain shiver with dread. Had the AI gone insane? What could an artificial intelligence feel? Had he made a mistake goading the AI in this way?

Maddox saw despair in the holoimage’s eyes. The loneliness must be worse than he’d realized.

In those seconds, the captain had an inkling of the AI’s agony and isolation.

Maddox had grown up alone. He’d sensed his difference from others long before he became a man. He’d been the outsider, the lone wolf separate from the pack. What made it worse was the pack had always feared him. Fear could make people do bad things to those they dreaded. Those “incidents” throughout his life had been another ingredient that propelled Maddox to shine in whatever he did. If he hadn’t excelled, the pack would have swarmed him a long time ago.

The captain could sympathize with the AI’s loneliness. The screaming showed him the artificial intelligence could feel. What would six thousand years of isolation do? Was the AI a fellow “soul” in agony?

I can sympathize. In fact, it is better I do so. It helps me understand whom I’m dealing with. But I can’t go easy on the AI. We need the starship too desperately. Too much is at stake. If I’m wrong tormenting the old commander hidden in the machine—then, I’m sorry, and I do this with deep regret
.

As Maddox thought those things, the holoimage stopped screaming. It regarded him.

“This is too much,” the holoimage said in a bleak voice. “I will kill you and implode
Victory
. Existence is futile.”

“Not through an antimatter explosion?”

The holoimage was slow in answering. “Yes… That is what I meant.”

Maddox grabbed at this. “Then why did you just say
implosion
?”

“It was a slip of speech.”

“An error, you mean.”

“Existence is futile, and so is your argument.”

“That makes two errors on your part.”

“You prattle on with meaninglessness, human.”

Maddox steeled his resolve. He had to push forward. “Since you have committed two errors in rapid succession, it is logical you have faulty data or badly corrupted rationality centers.”

“That could not possibly matter now.”

“But it does in the most fundamental way,” Maddox said. “If you murder yourself for the wrong reasons, it means you could have solved the dilemma. That you failed to avail yourself of the opportunity would imply cowardice. I’m beginning to wonder if that’s why you took on Deified status in the first place.”

In the Beyond, the AI had told Maddox the ancient race had
deified
its greatest commanders by imprinting the living commander’s mental engrams onto a complex AI system. Even though the biological commander died, his personality lived on in a deified status. The undead AI minds of the great commanders had guided the lost race’s war policy.