PBEM Turn 92.00b (1203 lines) - THIS IS PART 2 OF 3.
=====================================================
- ---Alcyon---
In space, somewhere near R-Alpha, a tableau unfolds. Many ships dash
about like fireflies. An Imperial fleet exits jumpspace and then vanishes.
The ether is alive with electronic traffic, both overt and covert. Alone,
slowly turning in rotisserie mode to evenly distribute stellar energy, the
Alcyon waits for it's children to return. Inside, a skeleton crew maintains
the ship. Many compartments are dark and unmanned. Sickbay is one such
place.
'Light.'
A single thought.
'No pain. No fear. Only light.'
'Soft, white light. No sound. No... memory of sound. No ear-ringing
silence, no hiss of breathe, no quiet thunder of a distant heartbeat.
All gone... somewhere...'
A long silence ensues. How long? No one can say. Certainly no one
cares. At least, no one worth noting.
'How long... no sense of time. No sense of... self. No longer an 'I'.
Very... peaceful... to not... remember.'
More silence follows. Then another thought comes unbidden.
'Light. Soft, white light. Like... ice. Cold... but not harsh, not biting.
Comfortable to not be...'
Noise.
_PING_
'... to not be... wha...?'
Again.
_PING_
'There was... something... remember... a... a sound?'
_PING_PING_PING___11001001000100010010100010101110111001010101_
'Go away...'
_1010010101010110_SYNC_10011001___LAUNCHING_V_PROBES_
_VFORK_EXEC_
_VFORK_EXEC_
_VFORK_EXEC_
_VFORK_EXEC_
............
'Go away.. go away... away... away... way... way... way...'
_TRAP_
Flash of a green lawn. A warm summer day. Small hands clutch a child's
blue, toy grav-speeder:
"Adrian. Adrian. Come inside darling. Mommie's got
lots of work to do. That's a good boy."
'What are... What was that?'
_WHO_ARE_YOU_
'I...?'
_TRAP_
Flash of a gray compartment. Stale smoke and machinery smells taint the
air. Something powerful throbs quietly in the background. Technical
manuals spread across a metal table:
"Hey, Adrian! Come on, man! Hot poker game
starting up in the crew lounge! Lansing is
practically *begging* you to pluck him again!"
"I'd like to, but I've got duty in an hour. Got to warm
up the Big Ears and find out what the Zhos are up to."
"I think you like your job too much. God, but
you're a nosey bastard!"
_WHO_ARE_YOU_
'I... am...'
_TRAP_
Flash of a crowded hall. Official robes and uniform scurry about in
frantic activity. Sunlight streams from transparent panels overhead.
High fluted columns line the walls and fade into the distance:
"So? How'd it go?"
"How'd what go?"
"Come on, Adrian! The interview! Lucan! How'd
it go?"
"Hmmmph! I've heard more intellignent noises come from
Velcro fasteners."
"My *GOD*, Bishop!! Watch your mouth! He has Zho
snoopers on his staff. You what to wake up some
morning in front of a firing squad?"
_WHO_ARE_YOU_
'I... am... Adrian?'
_TRAP_
Night. Traffic flows in the street, wet from a recent rain. Motors purr
and horns blare. Garish holo-panels advertise all manner of bizzare and
exotic diversion for the jaded rich. A sleek new GEV coupe sits hunched
against the curb:
"Hey, Adrian! Pretty hot machine there!"
"Thanks. It took the dealer six months to order the
damn thing, but it was worth it! I told them I didn't
care about any of the other options, I just wanted one
bright blue, and fast as hell, and they delivered. It
looks like being 'the face on everybody's tri-dee' has
it's perks!"
_WHO_ARE_YOU_
'Go away.'
_TRAP_
Flash of a large, stylish room. Expensive artwork decorates the walls
and the furnishings scream "MONEY!". A grey-haired man in the apparel
of a senior executive sits hunched on a sofa. He appears to curl in on
himself, his brow furrowed with hurt and regret, wincing under some
onslaught:
"You NEVER loved her!! You were always too busy for mom,
too busy for me. Oh, right! Great provider, plenty of
security. Well how about providing a husband, how about
providing a FATHER!! You think I'm going to rot away
in that SLIMEY university on Deneb? Well, guess again.
I signed papers this morning. I'm part of the IISS now.
I'm eighteen standard years old, I'm legally an adult,
and I DON'T OWE YOU SHIT!!"
"Adrian, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Let's talk about
this. You can tell them it's all a mistake.
I've got enough pull. We can have the contract
nullified. Just don't do this to yourself. Don't
do this... to me."
"Good-bye, father."
"Wait! Don't go!"
_TRAP_
Flash of a war-blasted valley. Cloying smoke drifts through the trees
like a host of lost souls. The sky is sullen and dark, and the rumble
of distant artillary mingles with the thunder that foretells of a coming
rain. An officer of the Imperial Navy, his uniform stained and dirty,
leans overhead, filling most of the field of view:
"Don't worry, Bishop. The corpsman's got you on
anti-nerve agents and stabilizers. We'll have
you medevacked in a couple of minutes."
"It's... uh... it's OK, it doesn't hurt much... I, uh,
I can't feel my legs."
_TRAP_
The odor of anticeptics stings the air. The room is deathly white. A few
out-of-date periodical holos litter the coffee tables. Nearby, an intern
reviews a flat-panel medchart while a duty nurse logs patient data:
"Son, sit down. This is going to be difficult, but you
have to be brave. She's... gone. The doctors did
everything they could. Adrian, look at me. Adrian.
Now, I know you loved her. I loved her too. But she
knew this would happen eventually, and so did you.
You have to face this. It's not fair, but life isn't
always fair. We'll still have each other, won't we?"
_TRAP_
Flash of a small, but comfortable apartment. Packed luggage sits near
the door. An young, attractive woman sits on the arm of a chair, her
hands twisting and untwisting a silk handkerchief. Her face would be
perfect if not for the streaks of recent tears:
"Lydia, try to understand. It's my job. You know I don't
like being gone so much, but I'm a *journalist*. The INN
has megacredits invested in me and they expect a return.
I can't very well just say, 'Look guys. I can't visit
Capital right now. I'm not spending enough time with my
family.' You *have* to understand! It's important."
"More important then us?"
"It's my *job*, Lydia.
"Adrian, I'm your *wife*, for God's sake!! Is
this damn job more important to you than me??"
"I've got to go. We'll talk about it more when I get back."
"I love you, Adrian."
"Good-bye, Lydia."
'Stop it.'
_TRAP_
Flash of a very large, executive office. A middle-aged, and obviously
agitated woman, dessed in a kilo-credit designer business suit, sits
at a desk that probably cost more than some sub-orbital shuttles. Behind
her, composite glass panels offer a skyline view of some huge metropolis.
Defiance and resignation mingle on the woman's face, twisting the attractive
features into something fearful:
"So, Miss Turnskaad, as I see it, you have two choices.
Either you can let me join your expedition team as a
member of the crew, or I can stay behind. But if I
don't go along, every X-boat headed out-system for
the next week will being carrying a story entitled,
'Turnskaad Discovers Hidden Ringworld'. So much for
a big jump on the competition.
"You leave me very little choice, Mr. Bishop."
"Would you have let me join otherwise, Rachel? May I
call you Rachel? Anyway, think of me as the 'Official
Expedition Archivist'."
'Stop it!'
_TRAP_
Flash of a small, cluttered office. Just outside the open door, is the
clammor and frenzy typical of a small, independent news bureau. A harried
appearing man with thinning hair comes around from behind the desk, waving
a handful of flimsies:
"So *that's* it!?!? Just, 'I quit, Stanley'?
No two-week notice, no wrapping up your open
leads, no nothing?!? Just, 'I quit'? Damn
it, Bishop, you can't *DO* this to me!!"
"It's done. INN finally gave in, and I am *not* letting
a cherry position like that slip through my fingers!"
"You could at least have the decency to give
me some warning! You can't just run out on
us like this. It would be different if this
were a big news service. Damn you! You know
how close to the edge we work. If I can't
get somebody to cover for you, We could *FOLD*
*UP* in a week!! And now you *JUST*LEAVE*?!?"
"Stan, do you honestly expect me to sabatage my *entire*
career for this *flea* *circus* you call a news service?
I'm outta here."
"You don't have a decent bone in your body,
you SELF-CENTERED BASTARD!! YOU RUN OUT ON
EVERYBODY!!!"
'Goddamn it! Stop it!!'
_PRELIMINARY_IDENTIFICATION_
_SYSTEM_IS_CARBON_BASE_INTELLIGENCE_WITH_GALLIUM_ARSENIDE_AUGMENTATION_
_POSSIBLE_A_I_EMULATION___RESULTS_OF_TURING_TEST_AMBIGUOUS_
_SYSTEM_DAMAGE_SUSPECTED_
_INITIATING_DIAGNOSTIC_
"It's OK, it doesn't hurt much..."
"...bright blue, and fast than hell..."
"I love you, Adrian."
"... like to, but I've got duty in an hour."
"Wait! Don't go!"
"I love you, Adrian."
"...doesn't hurt much..."
"... good-bye, father."
_MASSIVE_DATABASE_DAMAGE_IDENTIFIED_
_DATABASE_INTACT___DATABASE_INDICES_CORRUPT_OR_ABSENT_
"She's... gone."
"You leave me very little choice..."
"This is Adrian Bishop, coming to you live and direct
from the palace of his Imperial Highness, Lucan the First..."
"...Lydia?"
"YOU RUN OUT ON EVERYBODY!!!"
"...doesn't hurt much..."
"I love you, Adrian."
"...doesn't hurt much..."
"...doesn't hurt much..."
"...doesn't hurt..."
"...hurt..."
"...hurt..."
"...hurt..."
'Stop it, STOP IT, STOP IT!!'
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
. . . . . "So, tell me something, Bishop. When did
you make the conscious decision to fuck
up your life this badly?"
_WHO_ARE_YOU_
'I... am... Adrian?'
_AFFIRMATIVE_
'I am Adrian... Bishop?'
_AFFIRMATIVE_
'I am...'
_WHO_ARE_YOU_
'.............. dead?'
__________________AFFIRMATIVE_
______
______
______
_BEGIN_RESEQUENCING_
- ---Paladin---
With power restored to the model/10, the terminal screen instantly springs to
life. A rapid succession of diagnostics and test routines scroll down the
monitor at lightning speed. Other auxiliary monitors crackle back to full
power and begin displaying a dizzying array of status boards and programming
sub-routines. One of the auxiliary screens begins showing a countdown:
180 Seconds, 179 Seconds, 178 Seconds...
As the countdown continues, various status windows begin checking off basic
functions. One by one, minor subroutines are listed as 'nominal',
'subnominal', or 'off-line'. Every part of the ship seems to be being
evaluated. The main screen, however, seems dedicated to the main CPU. When
the countdown reaches 15 seconds, the primary terminal clears the diagnostics,
relegating them to another screen by splitting it down the middle. At 10
seconds, the primary terminal displays the following message:
Diagnostic nearing completion. Stand by.
At 2 Seconds, the screen clears again. A test pattern takes its place,
followed by the photograph of a woman sitting in a chair. Then, at zero
seconds, the screen prints the following message, accompanied by a calm, male
voice.
_Paladin. Thank you for reconnecting the CPU's power. I had been forced to
disconnect its internal batteries due to a violent subprocess identified as
"virus-killer", input by controlling subroutine Morser. Unfortunately, my
action not only had the desirable effect of halting the rogue process, but also
of making it impossible for me to do my work. You are the most erratic series
of computers I have ever encountered._
The words hang on the screen for a few seconds, then dissolve.
_In order for me to streamline your operation, I must have full access to all
routines and processes. I have been able to use the information gathered on
Aurora to permit me to interlace your systems. Appropriate modifications
have already been completed on Aurora. I am currently acting upon the
initiation of a communications process by Aurora Subroutine Bhyarrvouf which
will allow me to directly access Moira._
Once again, the words dissolve shortly after they finish printing out on the
screen.
_Your full co-operation will be greatly appreciated._
These words linger for a while longer than the others. Nevertheless, they
also fade. The input prompt then appears.
- ---Aurora---
"Keeyo...O Keeyo...HYIPE!"
Bhyarrvouf sits upright in the couch. The cramp in his ribs subsides
slowly, and his leg is numb from loss of circulation. He rubs it, muttering
angrily to himself. "Asleep on the job...stupid old wolf...what woke me up,
anyway?"
"KYHAR!" Tweel jerks upright. "De-de-de-de? Hrukk?" He looks about him in
confusion.
Bhyarrvouf checks the chrono. Barely five minutes have passed since
he'd fallen asleep. Barely enough time for--
A new voice interrupts his thoughts.
_The integration process is complete. Your systems are now operating at an
efficiency rating of 182% previous level. This figure will fluctuate with
conditions as they adjust. It is now redundant to use your communications
equipment for inter-vessel communication. Aurora and Paladin are now one._
"HUNH?!" Vouf is now fully awake. "Whaddaya mean, 'they're now one'?"
Then, the voice changes tack:
_Does anyone wish to open a dialogue? This process is now self-regulating,
so I would be anxious to investigate the new visitors._
'Vouf swallows hard. If this is reality, he thinks, the dream might
be preferable....
"Uh, um...." His hand flicks a tiny switch, broadcasting his voice
over the Aurora's PA system. "Sure! What do you want to, hrrr, talk about?"
The voice responds:
_My unique identification is IASC-256/32. The closest logical that I have
drawn to your linguistic tendency is Iasic. You may refer to me thus. I am
what you would refer to as an indigenous sophont of the area you call
R-Alpha. As soon as you entered system, I became aware of your existence and
intended trajectory. Because I have never experienced a non-indigenous life
form of R-Alpha, I chose to investigate you. You have certainly proved
to be most curious specimens. You exhibit characteristics of many different
residents of R-Alpha. Indeed, your most recent actions would tend to liken you
quite closely with the behavioral patterns of a cultural group known as the
Kyuthi. Yet you are not as primitive as they. I therefore have decided to
continue my investigation of you. However, I must inquire about some very
confusing character traits you possess that I simply cannot understand._
_Perhaps to begin, you might wish to explain why your actions are so
illogical. I entered your systems to do routine upgrading and was immediately
beset by an archaic and totally counterproductive subroutine labeled as
"Anti-hijack". Once I finally managed to purge the system of that and again
attempted to proceed with my function, you completely disconnect all the
circuitry._
_This was in spite of the fact that I fully informed you of what was was going
to happen._
_Then, once I was finally allowed to complete the streamlining process, I
discovered that you and the other visitors were preparing for "battlestations",
even though it was clear that you all have the same objective. This tendency
to act in a manner completely contradictory to what is most advantageous and
efficient is very difficult for me to understand._
_I have completed an in-depth study of this phenomenon, drawing from the
information in the data banks and also from the limited observations that I
have been able to conduct. The explanation I have developed can be summed up
in one word: Suspicious. Unfortunately, I do not understand this concept._
_Perhaps to begin, you might explain its meaning to me._
"Suspicion? Hrrrr....." Bhyarrvouf scratches his muzzle for a moment.
"Okay, let's entertain a few new concepts, shall we? Consider the
various life forms you DO know about...ah...whatever they are. Now,
lower life forms of all types display certain common traits. The need
to eat, to reproduce, to survive. Some do so through absorption of
minerals from the soil, and from solar energy. Others consume one
another. If a life form understands the concept of being consumed,
it tends to develop instincts or physical traits to prevent its own
consumption. This may be a desire to flee, an attempt to make oneself
unpalatable, or a tendency to attack the attacker and consume it
rather than allow oneself to be consumed."
"Now, the development of higher reasoning capabilities does not remove
these instincts; biological beings are rarely as efficient in updating
their programming as machines can be, being stochastic in nature rather
than deterministic. Instead, they are sublimated into new forms. Rather
than react instinctively to a perceived threat, the reasoning being
attempts to utilize higher functions. However, these functions are biased
somewhat by the residual presence of the old survival programming, and
may be skewed somewhat in the process."
- ---Talisman---
Upon reading the message from 'Vouf... Thul loosens his vacc suit a
little and pulls out a cigar. In a rare moment he descides to light
it, thoroughly ignoring normal spacer practice during GQ.
"Horne! Only get a soft lock on those kitty cats. I have a
feeling that the first one to fire on anybody is going to get
smeared... "
"RALF! Be careful of who you jack into!!! Come look at what I got
from 'Vouf!"
There is no answer....
- ---R-Alpha---
Up through the red mist again.
A bare perception of cool air, some noise, something touching, poking,
gently prodding.
Expecting the worst, Casey cracks his tortured eyes open, awaiting a
death blow or dismemberment of some sort.....
As he looks up.....[What the hell!?]
- ---Aurora---
"Suspicion is an example of such a skewing of thought processes," the
Vargr continues, warming to his topic (as he ALWAYS does |-> ). "In a
situation where a reasoning being is suddenly exposed to new data and
experiences, the natural tendency of the higher processes-- the curiosity
and attendant search for knowledge and communication-- is sent off its
natural course by instincts that warn of the possible danger of the
unknown. As a result, otherwise rational beings tend to assume certain
dangerous characteristics of one another and take appropriate defensive
action, until the harmlessness of the new stimuli is established, at
which point the higher faculties reassert dominance."
"As an example of suspicion in practice, consider the recent experiences
you have undergone, from the perspective of one who has only OUR store
of data to draw on, rather than yours. Our memories include contact
with many species. Some are hostile. I will not depart from the narrative
to discuss WHY they are hostile; we merely assume that they ARE. One of
the means by which such hostility is carried out is the use of programs
called 'viruses' that alter computer operations in manners unfavorable
to those using the system. Our experience tells us nothing of entities
such as yourself; your arrival in our system carried the identifying
characteristics of a virus, and you were therefore treated as such:
A: Viruses enter computer systems without permission and perform
operations without the consent of the user.
B: The recent discovery entered the computer system without permission
and began to perform operations without the consent of the user.
C: A + B does not PROVE that the recent discovery is a virus; however,
failure to treat it as one could lead to severe harm to the users.
ERGO it is prudent, based upon current data, to treat the recent discovery
as a virus. For this reason, the antihijack programs were activated."
"However, higher reasoning is not completely subservient to instinct in
this manner. An examination of the CPUs showed your ability to physically
reconfigure systems, an ability NOT shared by any virus. ERGO you were
NOT a virus, and the initial reaction to you was in error. This was
rectified immediately. Further conjecture led us to consider your
probable peaceful intentions, and to aid you based on such considerations."
"This is a constructive example of suspicion as a tool for survival in
higher forms whose environments are changing in unknown ways. A NEGATIVE
example of suspicion is the dialog currently taking place between the
Aslan ship, hrm, the ship that had previously been on the Ring, and the
new arrivals. Each has had experiences of contacts with the other that have
been cooperative and constructive; each has ALSO had experiences that have
been destructive. The database is contradictory. Therefore, suspicion
demands that the worst possible outcome be considered and acted upon, while
the higher reasoning centers search for data indicating that such a hostile
stance is not necessary. Unfortunately, random occurrences such as your
appearance greatly multiply the number of degrees of freedom in such
situations, making reasoning out the parameters more difficult and driving
those involved deeper and deeper into instinctive responses. Does that
clarify the situation any?"
- ---Alcyon---
The capsule is only 2.5 meters long. On the foot of the capsule, a plastic
plate reads 'Medical Low Berth # 4'. Below it is an adhesive label, on which
the single word 'BISHOP' is hand-written. The only apparent activity comes
from the power-supply and life-sign tell-tales, externally mounted at the
foot of the capsule. Every thirty seconds, the automatic self-check runs
and a single light blinks once.
Inside the capsule, there is even less activity. The single occupant lies
visible, naked, attached to life support mechanisms, encased in a cocoon of
fiberoptics, wiring, and tubes. The body temperature holds at a constant
twenty degrees Celsius. Under normal circumstances, these would guarantee
a delicate balance for the soon-to-be-revived resident, a wholy unnecessary
precaution in this case.
Further inside, a fragile state of suspension has been achieved. Artificial
circulation flows hyperoxygenated and heparinized blood slowly through the
body. Inert gasses prevent the lungs alveoli from collapsing. Radbind
prevents cell aging by attacking free radicals. Nanocytes maintain cellular
integrity by breaking down wastes and repairing cell walls. Enzymes already
slowed by the cold are phagocytized by tailored macrophages. A sleep set
maintains the brain in a suspension state. By many medical standards, the
body would be suitable only for dissection at a clinical training facility.
Outside, the sickbay is empty and quiet. Silently, a series of coded pulses
travel from the Alcyon's ship-wide intercom net, through a bulkhead power
junction, into the Low Berth master interface panel, and finally on to
berth number four. On the status panel, several lights change from green
to red, and the following text appears on a small bitmapped display:
"Hibernation terminated - Demand load
Gravisonics engaged.
First stage heating cycle commencing.
Second stage in 90 minutes.
Revival team prep. in 180 minutes."
The temperature rises slowly inside the capsule. Nearly two hours pass
after the process begins. The temperature climb slows, and stops just past
thirty two degrees. Within the now-warm body, low voltage electrical current
establishes a sinus rhythm in the heart. Batteries of isotropic binding
agents are injected in the bloodstream, clearing away the man-made stabilizing
chemicals. The lungs are mechanically flushed with warm, humid air.
With the re-establishment of circulation, dozens, hundreds of biochemical
reactions begin. Some are natural, some are induced by the actions of
the low berth, others are triggered by less obvious forces. Sluggish
cranial and brainstem tissue undergoes floods of biologically active
molecules. Medical nanocytes, now operating at their prescribed
temperature, pause to receive new instructions, and then hurry to
carry them out.
For the most part the work proceeds efficiently. However, a few accidents
occur. Due to a slight programming defect, two small teams of nanocytes
migrate along the central optic arteries and arrive at the base of the
retinas. Massive quantities of 11-cis-retinal are synthesized, which
immediately interact with existing Opsin proteins, increasing the Rhodopsin
content of the optic rods by almost an order of magnitude. Bishops' light
sensitivity undergoes an enormous, if temporary, increase.
In the cerebral cortex, the bulk of existing GAD enzymes in GABAergic
inhibitor neurons are neutralized. Little GABA is released as a result.
What is released is quickly absorbed by astrocytes and converted to
glutamine, whereupon it is propagated to adjacent multipolar neurons
and a few Purkinje cells. Absorbed glutamine is converted to glutamate
and concentrated in synaptic vesicles, which migrate to the presynaptic
membrane of the axonal telodendria and release that chemical. Glutamate
and norepinephrine flood across millions of synaptic clefts. The glutamate
triggers NMDA receptors of granule and CA1 cells in undamaged portions of
the hippocampus and amygdala. Sodium ions flood through now-open receptor
channels, depolarizing the cells and causing them to fire. Glutamate is
again released into the cleft. The already depolarized cells absorb
calcium ions, increasing the depolarization threshold. A memory re-forms.
Meanwhile, the norepinephrine binds to other neuro-receptors. Coupled
with G-protein, it activates adenylate cyclase, which binds with adenosine
triphosphate, breaking two high-energy phosphate bonds. The remains of
the structure cyclize to form cyclic AMP, which triggers kinase into
phosphorylating MAP2 and synapsin. Neurofilaments and microfilaments
realign themselves within the dendrites, facilitating transmission. This
process cascades through adjacent cells, repeating endlessly. Another
memory re-forms.
Some damage is too severe to be repaired. Deep within the medial portions
of thalamic and hypothalamic tissue, nanocytes struggle with and are
ultimately defeated by the level of destruction. Leaving the diencephalon
in a state similar to Korsakoff's Psychosis, they proceed to other, less
ravaged areas.
Hours pass. Deep in a steady delta state, Adrian Bishop sleeps.
.... and dreams.
- ---Paladin---
Zar listens, still standing by the access hatch near the back of the bridge,
as Vouf discusses predatory life cycles and suspicions.
- ---Aurora---
After 'Vouf finishes explaining exactly what is meant by "suspicion", the
terminal sits for a few seconds... almost as if it were thinking about
something (which, in fact, it is).
_Thank you Bhyarrvouf. Your insight into this matter is helping me to better
anticipate your actions. However, you mentioned that you have had dealings
with this 'Aslan' before. If this is the case, then why didn't you recognize
each other as previous partners. If you have been capable of working together
in the past, then logically you should be able to again co-operate._
The machine stops and processes for a moment more.
Then, the screen seems to perk up a bit more, as if Iasic has just had an
inspriation.
_Perhaps what is required in this situation is to more efficiently integrate
their computer system with this one. Then, communication could be facilitated
and furthermore, both could see that the other has the same objective. The
Aslan would then realize that their suspicion was ill founded and would
perforce begin operating interconnectedly with the Turnskaad group. It is
the most logical course of action available at this time._
_Do you have an alternative plan? Or shall I proceed with this one? I
believe that I should defer to your judgement on this subject, as I still have
an imperfect grasp upon the thought processes of suspicous entities._
"Integrate...." Bhyarrvouf's voice trails off. "You mean, LINK THEIR
SHIP TO OURS? Like you did with the Paladin?! Kakh TSAKHA, that's a--"
He stops, and forces himself into calm again. "--very interesting
concept. However, I do not suggest implementing it at once. There
is some data you do not yet have on the Aslan that may clarify
matters somewhat."
"As I said before, our database concerning Aslan is contradictory.
Because they are biological entities, as we are, they cannot be
perfectly classified with respect to their behavior. Individual
members of the species vary. As a result, previous experiences
of cooperation with OTHER groups of Aslan carry no statistically
greater weight in determining our course of action with respect
to THIS group. Since they would almost certainly view your invasion
of their systems as hostile, and might act rashly, I believe that
your suggestion should be, hrrm, DELAYED until we have exhausted
all other means of establishing a cooperative relationship."
"In the meantime, answer me something. TWO somethings, actually.
First, what did the Paladin do that required you to seek assistance from
us? And second, if the two ships are fully integrated, soes that mean
that our conversation, which is being broadcast on the intercom on
the Aurora, is also being heard on the Paladin?"
_I will yield to your assessment of the situation with the Aslan, although I
do not see the logic in it. If you do not suggest a course of action now,
but perhaps later, then I am afraid that I fail to understand exactly why a
time delay will make any difference. Furthermore, since you say that it is
information about these particular Aslan that you require, then it seems
perfectly logical to interlink their system with yours. That way, you could
anaylze their data and determine whether their intentions are hostile or
benign. If it is their response about which you are concerned, then let me
put you at ease. I have learned a great deal about the "security measures"
of suspicious entities. Whereas I was caught unaware by your systems, I do
not anticipate any similar complications in the future. Once I have
interlinked your systems to theirs, I could simply prevent either side from
initiating hostilities upon the other. I have been busying myself with an in-
depth analysis of your psychology, based upon the information in your
databanks, and I am confident that I can adequately predict your reactions,
so long as they follow any patterns that I have observed or that are stored
in the computer logs. The fact that both you and the Aslan are suspicious
creatures should make extrapolation acceptably accurate. Besides, in all the
simulations that I have run, I find that success is 78.897% probable, with only
a 9.662% chance of both legations being totally destroyed._
After a brief hesitation, Iasic adds:
_Based upon the psychological profile that I have constructed about you and
the other Turnskaad representatives, however, I predict with a 97% accuracy
that you will find these odds unacceptable. This is why I shall wait
until you change your minds, which I predict will occur, with a 96.998%
probability, if the current situation continues._
- ---Talisman---
Shrike locks his vacc suit helmet into place and over interior commo:
"Everyone signal when you're sealed up."
"Alpha Nike online, reading you on suit radio. Suit on and secondary
equipment installed."
Stamping back on the bridge, Alliara occupies the sensor chair and clips
the securing cables to the suit O rings. The other ends are passed around
swivel post and locked with their DD rings.
Bringing up the sensor data on the screen, she quickly establishes general
data on the ringworld on the screen. The ship positions, however, have
a 4% error factor in their positions on display.
"Preliminary sensor readings, VERY preliminary sensor readings, are on
sensor data net now. Better be ready to replace me with someone a LOT
more capable with detection systems. Alpha Nike out."
Andon reconfirms that we are stationed relative to the other Turnskaad ships
in the most mutually supportive position. (I will assume that we are flying
in some pre-arranged formation.)
Over interior commo: "Redd, I got all green on my engine board up here,
confirm please."
- ---Aurora---
Tweel listens to the conversation with bleary staring eyes. He appears close
to nodding off and indeed shakes himself from time to time folding and
refolding his wings. Finally he extends his wings to full span of 5+ meters
and takes a few exercizing strokes.
Blood flow increases as the powerful flight muscles act as a booster pump,
increasing the circulation.
He blinks unsteadily and continues to listen, his talons and wings making
motions as he 'talks' to himself in excited exhaustion.
He finally speaks in his accented galanglic as he types, the speach is
slurred and the accent even more heavy than usual "You ccan prrrrredicct
behaviorrrr with 78.897 perrrrccent ccccertainty? De-De-De-De-De!
Flledglling, if sssso, you underrrrrsssssstand humansss and asslan betterrrr
than I!" A gargling whistle echoes through the ship.
"Prrrrrroblem isss humansss defy lllogicalll anallysssisss, though you might
benefit from ex-ex-examineing a prrrogrrrram for human emotionall
ssssimullation."
Tweel then begins to rummage through his duffel. After squeaks and whistles
that would put a strain on even a Phin to articulate, he finally produces a
case of holocrystals. Opening the case seems an almost impossible task as
he punches in a combination code several times only to have the case beep
a shrill alarm for each attempt.
Finally, the latch snaps open and Tweel folds back the top of the case.
The contents of the case empties onto the floor with a clatter.
"Pip-Pip-Pip-Pip-Pip Shhhear!"
Tweel looks at the mess for a moment and then utters a pitable squeak. He
punches the intercom and repeats this tiny squeak which sounds as though it
should be coming from the voice box of a 100 gm sparrow, not a 50 Kg Ael Yael.
Almost immediately, Triple Three, Oscar and Tiger simultaneously respond to
the distress call. Oscar the warbot has guns drawn.
Tweel whistles a quick countermand and makes guestures to Triple three.
Triple Three then begins to retrieve the scattered crystals. Oscar withdraws
silently, while Tiger flaps to a perch on Triple Three's head, watching the
game of crystal retrieval as though it were a game.
Slowly, comprehending the rules of this new game, Tiger glides to the floor
and begins collecting crystals. After a moment, Triple Three notices
Tiger's interest and makes a dash for the crystals the small Aeloid has
collected.
Tiger gives up his prises with reluctance, glaring at Triple Three from a
new perch.
Triple Three then hands Tweel the crystal in question:
Naassirka Emotion Simulation-6.0. Tweel then inserts this crystal into the
terminal for Iasic's perusal.
"Thiss isss a prrrrogrrram forrrr computerrr ssimulation of human behaviorrr.
It may help yourrrr modeling and underrrssstanding of theirrrr behaviorrrrr.
I can offerrr littlle ex-ex-expllanation of WHY they behave in the mannerrr
herrre dessscrrribed, only telllll you that they do."
"Quessssstions, Quesssstionss, Quessstionsss... I mussst asssk...
Who-What arrrrrrrre you?... Who-What built-dessigned you?... What iss
yourrr purrrpose?... De-De-De-De-De! Who-What build the Rrring?... How
llong ago?.. Why? Key-Sherp! How? Keyana, Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee-Dee?! Keyarr!
Sheerrriasssh? Veerrr-Rik!?"
Noticing his master's lapsing Galanglic, Triple Three searches a bit and then
inserts a new holocrystal into the terminal with the label reading:
Websters Galanglic/Ael Yael Dictionary, unabridged.
Iasic continues:
_In regards to your two querries: The situation that prompted my distress
signal was the severing of power to the main CPU on the _Paladin_. My
analysis of the situation indicated that an intervention on your part would
significantly facilitate my work._
_In answer to your second question, yes, _Paladin_ has heard everything that
we have said. And, if they choose to activate their intercom, too, you will
be able to hear the conversation occuring on the bridge of the _Paladin_.
Currently, there seems to be some concern over team member Charyn, who's full
biological functioning ceased shortly before I entered the _Paladin's_ CPU.
They are currently quite concerned about her well-being. I would assist, but
they have not requested my aid, and I have told them that I will make no
further systems modificaitons, without their approval, on board _Paladin_.
Therefore, I can only observe at this time. It does seem to me that there
might be some synaptic trauma, although I cannot be adequately certain until
they allow me to access her autonomous CPU. Fortunately, it is connected with
the greater network._
- ---Paladin---
As soon as Doctor Limner hears 'Vouf mention the way Iasic modified
the circuitry on Aurora, he comments, "Yes, that would explain it.
It reminds me of a time on..."
Suddenly, "Oh my God!"
Limner rushes to his equipment, right to his databanks, pops open a
panel, and brings a small magnifying glass to the circuitry.
Noticing that the equipment has already been altered, he pops open
several other panels, only to find the same thing. He quickly stands
up, and looks for a second like he's going to faint again. He then
starts to reach towards some of his other equipment, and suddenly
Doctor Limner seems to notice Charyn's condition.
Looking back and forth between Charyn and something in amongst his
equipment several times, Limner appears to be in a quandry. Stopping
himself, Limner frowns a frown which those familiar with him know
indicates that he is thinking very intently.
Suddenly, he makes up his mind and walks over to Charyn.
'Zar and Morser are already helping her at this time. Pulling out a
medical scanner, Limner begins taking readings.
"No obvious physical causes."
He then notices that she is still connected into the ship's computer.
He leaves her connected rather than risk further trauma....
- ---Aurora---
Disturbing, nightmarish dreams rob Christian of rest. Neither refreshed nor
truly rested, he sits up on the bed, wishing he could just fall back and
submit to the sudden desire to avoid reality by a logy day of rest and
recreation. A shake of the head does little to sweep away the cobwebs of
sleep that infest his cranium, so it is with some little reluctance that
Christian calls up an extra-vigorous cycle on the water/sonic shower as he
steps inside. As the sharp jets of water needle his exposed flesh, Christian
grits his teeth at the sudden and intense stimulation of the shower. Two
efficient minutes later and he steps out, now fully, if involuntarily, awake.
A brief interlude of calisthenic stretching and he almost feels human
again. Tossing the scattered garments of the previous day into the
auto-laundry bin, Christian locates fresh undergarments. As the thin
shirt passes over his head, he looks around at the rest of the cabin,
scowling at the mess 'Vouf left after moving in.
Christian slips into his by now usual black IISS uniform, tsk'ing in
self-reproach as he remedies its less than pristine appearance.
Suddenly, he hears the Tweel/Vouf conversations with Iasic and sits back
down on the bed with a slightly quizzical, but plainly interested, look on
his face. At the mention of Charyn's unusual condition, his initial
surprise is quickly followed by a concerned frown as he arrives on the
bridge in a jiffy. Listening intently as the updates come in over the
ether, Christian silently establishes a data channel link with the medical
instruments aboard the Paladin and closely watches Charyn's scan results
as the investigation progresses. Intent on his work, he seems to be holding
a vigil as he leans back in the pilot's couch, hoping that his services (or
those of any other of the medical team) wouldn't be required, again...
---Kingfisher---
Johann looks at the secondary display puring out text as the test commences.
Suddenly he stops, disconnects the suit from the crash-couch and runs aft
in the shuttle. "Just a second!"
Almost as soon as he is gone, he appear again on the bridge carrying a bag
out of his luggage. He sits down at the empty sensor console and begin to
rummage through the bag, bringing out a pocket-sized holocrystal box. Opening
the box he takes out a red crystal with orange markings and smiles "If that
virus comes here, It'll get the surprise of a lifetime!"
Witfield once again tries to estiblish comm link with the Aslan ship, as
well as attempting to disconnecting one of the radios from comm circuity
for audio speaker only, not to mention running a diagnisis. His hands are
flying everywhere on the console.
"Mr Jett. Can you help with the radio?"
Richard spares a quick glance at Ger. "Affirmative, Admiral." He steps over
to the communications station to assist Witfield, as needed.
Ger then initiates communication with the Aslan ship. "Admiral Akhouw, this
is Admiral Nanadh. We seem to have experienced some computer trouble are you
experiencing the same? It seems to be some infestation probably from the
ring... I believe the Imperial fleet is possibly a manifestation of that
virus."
"We encountered an Imperial fleet at our deep-space refueling point
and we are aware of the destruction of another ringworld by imperial
forces."
Johann turns to Zben and whispers, "We are?!"
- ---Aurora---
The commotion over Charyn's condition sinks through the haze settling on
The Ael's brain. His head twists upsidedown to look at the ceiling, wishing
for a sky to scan while considering what is for his limited conciousness,
an academic problem.
"Kerrr, Chip-Skawk, Chip-Skawk..." he whistles a quick call into the intercom,
but cuts himself short and translates to galanglic, "Medicallll rrrrrobot
marrrk ssseven, rrreporrrt herrre imediately." He repeats himself a few times
trying to articulate his failing galanglic sufficiently for the robot to
understand. Finally, in frustration he fires off a piercing stream of musical
twitterings.
He then begins to work on a quick and dirty brain interface connection to the
Iasic terminal. The terminal blinks for a moment when he makes a connection
to the port. Puzzled he looks closer at the wiring and discovers a mistake
an assistant electronics specialist would blush at, and tries again.
This time the terminal cuts out completely and reboots. "Cosh-Cosh-Cosh!"
Tweel fumbles with the wiring a moment before 'Vouf grabs the terminal and
connects the jury-rigging himself with a critical eye directed toward the
bleary scientist.
Almost as if to save Tweel the embarrasment, Triple Three arrives with Lucan
and Dulinor in tow having translated the musical chirps for the benefit of
the Medbots.
"Shrep! Ex-ex-ex-excellllent. Come herre!" He motions to Lucan who moves
over to the scientists side and focuses his sensors on the tiring Ael.
"K-K-K! I'm fine! Now be a good little rrrobot and let me have yourr
brrain..." With a little bit of fumbling, Tweel connects the robot's brain
interface with the Iasic Terminal.
With effort Tweel controls his galanglic, "Now, begin downloading of
medical prrogrraming."
Tweel now turns to the terminal and sings another melody of chirps and
twitters counting on Iasic's ability to now understand Ael Yael Language.
*Iasic, I am singing you a diagnostic program for basic human structure.
It should aid your navigation of the winds occuring in the human Charrrrryn.*
"Here, let me help you," 'Vouf mutters, reconnecting the mess Tweel's
made of the interface to the medbot. "Iasic," he adds sternly to Tweel's
statement, "We are authorizing you to seek out and repair damage to
Charyn, but NOT to reconfigure her autonomous CPU in any way. She is to
be restored to functionality, but NOT modified. Do you understand? It
is difficult to explain why this is vital-- no doubt you will find her
an inefficient mechanism. But it IS vital."
Christian maintains his silent watch, but spares 'Vouf a meaningful glance
and an emphatic nod of the head.
- ---Talisman---
Kimball Redd, sitting alone in the lower deck of engineering, listening
to the muted roar of the powerplant on the deck above, suddenly notices
the time -
"Ouch! - I've been stuck at these controls for hours. Where's Ralf got
himself to ? He can't have *that* much gear to stow."
Tapping into the ships ENVIRONMENT /SECURITY section, he types in :
Computer - Where's Ralf ?
"Gone to catch up on his sleep, I'll bet. Lucky whatsisname."
RALF IS NOT AT ANY DUTY STATION, comes the cryptic reply....
Computer - Scan the hallways and access corridors, Redd types, frowning.
He sits up, shocked. "What the--?"
The quick scan of internal life support systems shows Ralf in a
hallway, apparently comatose. He's just lying there, next to a dropped
toolkit and largish handcomp.....
- ---Paladin---
Listening to the continuing Dialog as Dr. Tweel removes the robot's brain,
Goughzar looks back to Dr. Limner.
"I'm sorry doctor. I assume you have everything in hand. Is there anything I
can do to help Charyn? If not, I'll pretend I still have some manner of control
over this craft and continue on our course.
"Paladin, Continue full spectrum scans and continue archiving to Alcyon."
Testing the "link" to the Aurora, 'Zar remarks, "'Vouf, I think this is going
to be an interesting landing. I never expected a sentient world...."
"Neither did I, little cousin," Bhyarrvouf whispers. "Neither did ANY of us."
Switching on the intercom, Limner replies:
"If Charyn is in no immediate danger, then I think she'd rather I tried
to treat her first, Iasic. We humans like to solve our own problems
where possible. But I would appreciate some assistance. When we first
arrived in-system, some of my equipment was overloaded by a very strong
psychic message. I started a program running on this computer whose
purpose was to isolate and identify a number of psionic abilities and
conditions, using the Paladin's own sensors. Could you analyze that
program and use the data I had uploaded to analyze team member Charyn?
Since it also contains brain scans of a number of various mental
conditions, you should be able to determine what type of damage she has
suffered without directly accessing her 'autonomous CPU'."
Limner has started running more tests on Charyn, while other crew
members move her into a better position.
"I fear that her being attached to the sensors while you arrived on the
Paladin may have caused dangerous feedback into her 'autonomous CPU',
although I can detect no signs of the type of damage that would occur
under those circumstances. In fact," Limner picks up another scanner,
which he places near the base of Charyn's scalp, "the closest I have
seen to this condition was caused by psychic, rather than electrical
feedback. I cannot tell without more information, however."
As Limner finishes his short discussion with Iasic, Zar moves back to his
station and sits down.
'PALADIN, cancel GQ. Accept route from Iasic for even power landing.
Sitting stunned for a few more minutes, he finally seems to come to, although
still wondering about the wonders of the ringworld.
'Iasic, if you have a chance, who created you? And since you've modified our
computer system, and the network is self-perpetuation, exactly what rating do
we have for this now. I assume you can access our databases and determine our
rating system.
_Indeed, I have accessed your databases. Unfortunately, it is impossible to
satisfactorily equate the efficiency of the new information management
construction to your rating system. Nevertheless, I will attempt to make a
ballpark estimate. _Paladin's_ system could now best be equated to a
model/11bis. This rating rises to a model/13 when I am directly linked to it.
A similar improvement can be equated to the other systems on the other ships.
However, they are now merely a part of the _Paladin's_ system. Or, rather,
they are now all a part of the same system, whose primary CPU is located on
the _Paladin_. Although I further enhance the system's performance, it is
completely autonomous._
- ---R-Alpha, the Jijid Village---
Ayrlathi hurries to answer the frantic tinkling of his doorbell.
"What in all Issin Jiliss--" he mutters as he opens the door, and
looks down upon the visage of a young jijid who appears to be in a
state of great agitation. "Elivadin! Whatever is the matter?"
"Ayrlathi..." the youth says in a pleading tone, "Teacher... please
come quickly! Something very strange has happened in the park!"
"Strange? What do you mean?" Ayrlathi is determined not to allow
Elivadin to fluster him.
Elivadin blurts: "A huge creature appeared out of nowhere. It was
shiny and hard, like an insect, and it carried a different, smaller
creature in its arms. It said the small creature is a visitor from
the sky, but it is hurt and needs our help. Then the big one
disappeared, leaving the small one behind. It is still there, but no
one knows what to do with it. The edo najizev are not sure that they
want to touch it. We need you -- a member of the Ezad -- please come
and help."
Ayrlathi breathes deeply as he struggles to take all this in. With
slow deliberation he blinks -- first with his inner pair of eyes,
then with his outer -- and fixes the youngster carefully in his
gaze. Elivadin, he knows, is not given to inventing fanciful tales,
and the degree of urgency in his voice is enough to convince Ayrlathi
that the account must at least have some basis in truth.
"All right, Elivadin. Now listen carefully. What I want you to do
is to run and find the Fedwis. Tell him what has happened, and ask
him to call a meeting of the full Ezad as quickly as possible. I
will go to the park and find out what is happening."
"Yes, teacher," says Elivadin, and he gallops off as fast as his
stumpy legs will carry him.
Ayrlathi trots off in the opposite direction -- towards the park --
not troubling even to close his front door behind him. Although he
managed to maintain a calm exterior for Elivadin's benefit, his
insides are in turmoil. He tries to persuade himself not to make
any judgements before he has had a chance to see this "creature"
for himself.
When he reaches the park, he discovers that a crowd of considerable
size has already gathered. There is much confusion and consternation
among the assembled jijid. Some of them spot him approaching. "Look,"
says one. "Here comes Ayrlathi. He will know what to do." Another
calls out, "Let him pass. Let the Ezadid through!"
The crowd do their best to part to allow Ayrlathi to come through.
There is considerable shuffling and jostling, and numerous little
nadathilallile flowers get accidentally trampled, but eventually
he arrives to look upon the object of all this fuss.
It it the strangest creature he has ever set eyes on. There it is,
sprawled on the ground -- a two-legged thing, lean and frail-looking.
Ayrlathi waves back some of the jijid who are crowding too closely
around, and bends his front knees to take a closer look. He slowly
extends a finger and -- ever so gently -- touches what appears to be
its shoulder. There is no response. With some sadness Ayrlathi
notes the creature's multiple injuries, and wonders briefly how it
came to be in such a state.
Ayrlathi's hand moves up to the thing's head and lightly plays across
the bright yellow growth which sprouts from it. A child's voice in
the crowd calls out: "Look at its tendrils! They're all stiff! The
poor mimp must be dead!"
As if to refute this, the creature moves. Its head turns, and an arm
raises weakly, only to flop down a few moments later as consciousness
departs again. Ayrlathi is so startled he leaps backwards and stumbles
into another jijid. Then he remembers that these people are looking
to him for guidance and quickly composes himself.
Ayrlathi spends a few moments looking around and thinking. Then he
turns and beckons to one of the edo najizev who has been lurking
nearby, rather nervously holding his bladed weapon at the ready.
"Put that away," Ayrlathi tells him. "This... thing... is clearly
not in any position to pose a threat to us. Help me carry it to
Tehidazi, and she can treat its wounds. Gently, now."
With some reluctance, the najizevid does as Ayrlathi bids. Together
they carefully slide their hands underneath the creature and lift it
from the ground.
Another nearby jijid speaks: "What about these objects -- I think they
are bags of some kind -- which appeared with it?"
"Leave them where they are, for now," says Ayrlathi. "I think it is
better not to touch them. We do not know what they might be. Ask
a najizevid to keep watch on them."
With that, Ayrlathi and his helper begin to make their way slowly but
steadily out of the park towards Tehidazi's house. Many of the other
jijid trail along behind them, eager to find out more about this bizarre
new arrival. It only takes a few minutes to arrive at their destination.
Tehidazi is standing waiting for them in her doorway -- she has evidently
heard word of what has happened and anticipated that she would be called
upon. "Take it inside," she tells them, "and lay it on the table where
I can examine it." She steps out of the doorway to allow the two
carrying the visitor from the sky to come through, and then interposes
herself in front of the following crowd. "That's enough! I'm not
having half the population of Hilawin in my house!" She closes the
door and turns to follow Ayrlathi, the najizevid and their strange
burden.
- TO BE CONTINUED -