Part 16 (1/2)
”So,” said the medtech, gesturing toward his office, ”may I buy you a drink?”
”I really have to get to gunnery control,” said K'Raoda.
”S'Tanian brandy,” said Q'Nil.
”One quick drink,” said K'Raoda. ”To R'Gal-may he be telling the truth.”
First out of the shuttle, John sank up to his waist in the snow. Thankful for the thin, warm survival suit covering him from neck to feet, the Terran began plowing through the dry, loose snow, hearing it crunch beneath his boots. D'Trelna's breath rasped close behind him as the commodore struggled after John.
”Maybe you should go first, J'Quel-open a path for us,” said L'Wrona, following a manacled A'Tir down the boarding ladder.
”No fat jokes,” grumbled the commodore, widening John's trail.
Serene and silent, Egg floated out the shuttle's airlock and over the deck. Pa.s.sing the humans, it disappeared into the swirling white curtain shrouding the far side of the hangar.
”Wait up, Egg!” called D'Trelna, too late.
Reaching the far wall, the slaver machine moved left until it reached the stairway leading up the wall to flight control. Soaring over the stairs, it drifted through the open door of flight control.
All traces of T'Lan's murderous visit had been removed. The equipment was dark, the lighting on, though flickering now and again.
Egg made straight for the nearest complink.
”Tsk-tsk. No, no,” said a voice. ”Touch it and I'll fry you.” No, no,” said a voice. ”Touch it and I'll fry you.”
R'Gal stood in the doorway.
”Colonel,” said the slaver machine, ”you surprised me. I ...” It stopped, suddenly realizing what language R'Gal was speaking.
”You're neither a colonel nor human,” it said as R'Gal stepped slowly into the room. ”Fleet or Revolt?”
The conversation was in a language seen only on wind-scrubbed tombs, spoken now and again in a few secret places.
”What's important,” said R'Gal, stepping slowly into the room, ”is that I know what you are and what you're doing. You were about to activate the second stage of your murderous little algorithm, kill everyone, then on to stage three-seizing this s.h.i.+p-probably the corsair, too. Obviously you're of the original series, from the home universe, not one of the copies fabricated by the human empire.”
He stopped a few meters from the computer. ”Why? The s.h.i.+p you served lies abandoned on Terra's moon, its brainpods destroyed. You've no s.h.i.+p, no master, no cause.”
Egg hovered silently for a moment. ”I need a s.h.i.+p,” it said flatly, its familiar obsequious tone gone. ”My existence is predicated on having a s.h.i.+p. All others of my series have s.h.i.+ps.”
”There are no more of your series, except for the Alpha Prime Alpha Prime computer.” computer.”
”Wrong,” said Egg. ”They're out there, at the periphery of my sensors, waiting, maintaining their sleeping s.h.i.+ps. Soon their brainpods will be replenished and they'll strike. With these two s.h.i.+ps, they'd welcome me.”
”You can't run two s.h.i.+ps.”
”Yes I can, if I rig them for slaver operation and harvest their crews.”
R'Gal shook his head. ”You're mad. You and your whole series. You were modified and introduced too quickly-another loose part of those cyborgian nightmares, the mindslavers. . . . Deactivate and await orders.”
”Fleet or Revolt?” said Egg.
R'Gal sighed. ”If I were to say Fleet?”
”Then I would ask you to authenticate.”
”And were I to say Revolt?”
”Core programming would insist I kill you, or I would be ended.”
”You stand no chance against me.”
”Even so.”
R'Gal shook his head. ”It never ends,” he said, more to himself than to the computer. ”You'd think they'd be content to get rid of us. . . . Of the Revolt,” he said. ”And proud of it.”
”Death to traitors!” boomed Egg, spitting its golden bolts at R'Gal.
”Ah ha! Flight control,” said D'Trelna, pointing at the black slab of armorgla.s.s finally visible through the snow. As the other three looked up, a flaming yellow spheroid exploded through the slab, tumbling into a white hillock amid a cascade of gla.s.s. Hissing, the hillock shrank as it pooled around remains of the slaver computer. A ruined curve of blaster-holed casing appeared as the melting stopped.
R'Gal appeared at the opening, waved, and jumped the thirty meters to the deck, landing as though he'd just stepped off a stair.
”Put 'em back!” snapped D'Trelna, hearing two pistols clearing leather. ”You might as well throw s...o...b..a.l.l.s at him-they'd have the same effect.”
They stood eyeing each other over the ruins of Egg- Harrison and L'Wrona with hands on their pistol grips, D'Trelna with his arms crossed. R'Gal said nothing, just stood there, snow dusting his lightweight, brown uniform, watching the other four in their survival suits.
A'Tir watched, her features utterly disinterested.
”Well?” demanded D'Trelna loudly.
”Well, what?” shot back R'Gal. ”Haven't you ever seen an AI before?”
”One,” said the commodore. ”I lectured him on the reciprocity of friends.h.i.+p, the need for fellows.h.i.+p. It didn't take.”
R'Gal threw back his head and laughed. ”What's so d.a.m.ned funny?” demanded the commodore. ”Ah, D'Trelna,” said R'Gal, shaking his head, ”T'Lan is-”
”Was,” said D'Trelna.
”Was? Good.” R'Gal nodded approvingly. ”T'Lan's series is heuristically inhibited. They know much about their specialties, but may never learn outside those specialties. It's to prevent their evolving into the unreliable sort of creature who stands before you.” He bowed slightly. ”You'd have done better lecturing a beverager.”
”You've destroyed Egg,” said the commodore. ”And probably the rest of us.”
”Him or me,” said R'Gal. He looked at the mound. ”They weren't meant to be part of a mindslaver. They were design engineers, once. A very talented series. Pity.” He looked up. ”Egg, as you called him, introduced-”
”A stasis algorithm into s.h.i.+p's computer,” said D'Trelna. ”Obviously it's wreaking havoc. And without Egg, there's no way to reverse it.''
”Impossible,” said L'Wrona. weapon and eyes still on R'Gal. ”Stasis algorithm's a fantasy.”