Authors: Eric Brown
Five
"Cyborgs," Emecheta said, peeling away his EVA suit and casting it across the room.
Latimer sat against the wall, holding a cold salve to his blistered thigh. He breathed hard and listened to Emecheta. Li passed him a beaker of iced water and he drank gratefully.
"You wouldn't believe what it's like down there!" the Nigerian was saying. "I hope that's the closest I ever come to hell, my friends."
Renfrew looked across at Latimer, as if for an explanation. "Ted, what happened?"
Latimer shook his head. He decided to keep quiet about the suspected cause of the destruction: they had enough to worry about, right now. "Don't know whether it happened at the time of the impact, or as a direct result of it later. Central's lost sight of its prime directive — to serve us."
"But I thought Central was down?" Li said.
Latimer shrugged. "My guess is that its programming was knocked out a thousand years ago, and since then it's reprogrammed itself. Evolved."
Renfrew said: "It found so many units of organic matter in the hangars and used them. Experimented with them."
The silence stretched, and then Li asked the question that Latimer had been loathe to ask himself: "The thing is... are we safe? I mean, will the cyborgs come after us?"
Emecheta said: "So far they've only attacked us when we invaded their territory. They've shown no desire to come after us. Maybe we're okay for the time being."
"For the time being?" Li asked, staring at him. "You mean, until they evolve and need to expand, take over all the ship?"
Latimer cut in: "We don't know they'll do that. I think we're okay for now."
"What about the other sleepers?" Renfrew asked. "Those in hangars Two and Five? The success of the mission depends on their survival."
Latimer looked up. "You don't think I hadn't thought of that?" he asked, despair opening up inside him like physical pain.
Renfrew shrugged. "So what do we do?"
"Maybe the sleepers in Two are okay," Emecheta said. "They might've been saved by the fact that the hangar was blown off the deck. I reckon the drones and roboids have no way of getting to it."
"And hangar Five?" Latimer said.
He thought of Carrie, and what he'd seen in hangar One, and despaired.
Emecheta shrugged. "We get in via the emergency hatch and hope to Christ the AIs haven't got there before us."
"Maybe they haven't," Latimer said, with appalling optimism. "Maybe they haven't been able to get in through the mangled access tubes..."
Emecheta nodded. "If it is all clear, we wake the sleepers and arm them. Then we stand a fighting chance of defeating the... the cyborgs." He shook his head. "Hell, we might even make a success of the mission yet."
Latimer nodded. "I'll go alone. There's no need anyone else risking themselves."
Emecheta said: "Don't you think you ought to take some time out?"
"With Carrie in there?" Latimer snapped.
Emecheta raised both hands, as if to defend himself.
Li said: "I'll come with you. It's my turn. I haven't been out there yet."
"I said I'll go alone, okay?"
Li shrugged, looked away.
"Don't take any risks," Renfrew said. "If the AI's have got in there, no heroics, okay? Just get back here and we'll assess the situation."
He ate a tasteless meal from stores, high energy concentrates to rebuild his strength. Talk was desultory at the table. No one made any further mention of the worst case scenario: that the AIs had already infiltrated hangar Five. No one looked ahead and planned what they should do in that eventuality.
If that's what I find, Latimer thought as he broke out a new EVA suit, then I don't really care what happens.
Six
He left the air-lock and propelled himself through the vacuum, out across the girdered surface of hangar One, trying to shut his mind from the horrors taking place down there.
He was aware of the sound of his heavy breathing. He could see along the length of the ship, the shattered ruins of the superstructure, hangar Five in the distance and Two floating eerily high above.
He hit the deck and paused. Hangar Five stood ten metres to his right, the tube that should have given access to the main body of the ship a flattened mess of metal and circuitry.
Perhaps the AIs haven't got in there yet, he tried to reassure himself again. Perhaps the sleepers are still alive. I'll wake Carrie and explain the situation, then rouse the others. We'll arm ourselves, suit up and repel the cyborgs.
He wished he had radio contact with the others, voices to keep him company. But Emecheta, wisely, had vetoed the idea: the AIs might be monitoring radio communications, he'd warned, better not take the risk.
Latimer felt very lonely, very vulnerable, as he bounced across the deck towards the hangar.
He approached the bull's eye markings of the emergency exit and tapped in the code. The hatch slid open and he stepped inside. He cycled himself through, raising his pistol in readiness as the inner door slid open.
He was met by darkness, silence.
He took a step forward, cautiously, and peered along the length of the gallery. There was no sign of any AIs. All was in shadow. Ahead, over the main well of the hangar, the dim glow of the pod's running lights was the only illumination.
Hardly daring to hope, he hurried from the emergency exit towards the rail and peered over into the dimness.
All was still, quiet.
He scanned the pods. The covers were lowered, denoting that their occupants were still inside, sleeping soundly. Then, before he allowed elation to grip him, he saw other pods in the rows beyond, whose covers had been opened, and his stomach turned sickeningly.
He scanned the deck, but there was no sign of the wholesale carnage that had taken place in hangar One.
Okay, he thought: Perhaps the AIs haven't got here yet. Perhaps the covers are up for other reasons. There might have been fatalities along the way — the possibility had not been ruled out by the Omega medics. Or perhaps the slave drones here had detected malfunctions in certain tanks, and roused the occupants while their pods were repaired.
Even as he considered these scenarios, he knew he was deluding himself.
He hurried along the length of the gallery until he reached the flight of metal stairs. He descended step by step, making as little noise as was possible in the clumsy suit, readying his pistol and turning his head constantly to take in the entirety of the hangar.
He reached the first row and lifted the cover of the closet pod, and his heart sank. It was empty. He moved along to the next pod, paused, and then eased up the cover. This one, too, had been vacated.
After that he hurried to aisle B, then counted along the row until he came to pod 46. He paused, his heart hammering, and only after long seconds did he lift the cover. He knew what he would find, but even so the sight of the empty berth filled him with despair.
He moved across the hangar, checking a few pods on every row. Every one was the same. They were empty. The sleepers had been removed.
The question was: where were they now?
He recalled what Renfrew had said: get in there, and then get out. No heroics. He wondered if he should quit now, get back to his team and report what he'd found.
Or go on, try to find out what had happened to the sleepers? To Carrie...
Perhaps the bastards haven't butchered her yet, he told himself. Perhaps, still, there is hope.
He was debating what to do when he became aware of the vibration.
The deck below his feet thrummed with a great, resounding pulse. He paused and stared around him. It came again, and continued every five seconds, lasting for a second or two. He took a step forward, and the vibration grew stronger, as if he were approaching its source. He hurried forward, moving towards the very middle of the hangar, then stopped.
Ahead, perhaps ten metres from where he stood, he saw that the deck had been cleared of pods and a great hole had been cut through the steel plating. He stepped forward, slowly, his pulse racing.
He reached the lip of the hole and peered down.
The AIs had sliced through the deck, through the upper superstructure of the ship, to gain access to hangar Five. Directly beneath were the great, cavernous chambers where the requisite supplies for planetary colonisation were stored. This chamber should have been in darkness, but now the magnesium dazzle of a hundred arc lights illuminated whatever work the AIs were undertaking. The vibration beneath his feet was a constant thrum now, and he could hear the distant roar of heavy machinery.
He paused, considering, then activated his powerpack and stepped into the void.
He sank slowly though the hole in the deck, and as he did so the scene in the chamber rose into view.
At the far end of the deck, perhaps five hundred metres away towards the front of the ship, dozens of AIs and cyborged humans were operating machinery. It was hard to tell at this distance what exactly they were doing, but judging from the kind of tools they were using, Latimer had a pretty good idea.
They were tearing through the reinforced steel bulkhead that separated the industrial bulk of the starship from the working end, where Central AI was situated and where they, Latimer's maintenance team, was housed.
He activated his powerpack and rose from the deck. As he shot vertically into the hangar, heading towards the gallery and the emergency exit, he realised that he was crying, but whether for Carrie — or for himself and his team — he could not tell.
Seven
"The mission's over," Li said. She perched on her swivel-chair, hugging her shins, looking for all the world like a disconsolate gymnast.
It hit Latimer, for the first time, that the mission might indeed be over. Humankind's first effort to send colonists to the stars might very well end in abject failure: worse, in unforeseen and irrevocable horror.
When he thought of Carrie, all consideration of the mission seemed crass.
Despite himself, he said: "There's still the sleepers in hangar Two. There's nothing to suggest they've been got at, yet. So long as they're okay, the mission proceeds."
Li looked from Emecheta to Renfrew, and then let her gaze rest on Latimer. "So we aren't going to turn back?"
Emecheta snapped. "How would that help us, for chrissake? Did you hear what Latimer said? Did you listen to one word?"
Li flinched.
Latimer sat on the edge of his pod, at the far end of the unit from the others. They sat in their seats and stared at him. Not for the first time he felt the weight of responsibility, and he didn't like it.
Emecheta asked him: "What do you think they were doing?"
"They were physically cutting through the bulkhead. Why they were doing that..." Latimer shook his head. He could guess, but he felt that speculation at this stage might not help morale.
"Isn't it obvious?" Renfrew said. "They've got the majority of the colonists. Now they want the rest of us."
Emecheta laughed. "I think not. I mean, what are we to them? Less than nothing. Parasites. We're stranded up here, helpless. We're effectively cut off without power."
"We could fight back," Renfrew said. "They might fear we'll put up resistance."
"Renfrew," Emecheta said with condescending patience, "they're machines. Machines fear nothing—"
"Okay, so they didn't fear, they
reasoned
. They see us as a danger to whatever they're planning, and they're coming for us."
Into the silence, Li said: "What do you think they're planning, Serena?"
Renfrew could only shrug. "I don't know. Perhaps only they know that."
Emecheta said: "Expansion. It stands to reason. They've evolved over the time we've been under. They've explored new territory, mined resources—" Latimer saw Li wince at this "-exploited the natives, and now they're expanding. They want all the ship. After that, who knows? Maybe they'll realise that there's a big universe out there, waiting for them."
"How about this," Latimer said. It was the first contribution he'd made in a while, and all heads turned to look at him. "Think about where they're cutting through — the bulkhead in the lower levels of the ship. What's down there?"
"The manufactory?" Renfrew said.
"What else?"
Emecheta pointed at him. "Central AI," he said. "The core..."
"As far as we know it was damaged in the accident," Latimer said. "Or certain areas of its operating system went down. We don't know. Chances are the robots don't know either, and want to find out. Think of them as drone bees, and Central as the queen. They're making their way to Central in order to assess the damage."
"Maybe Central's calling them," Emecheta said. "We don't know to what extent it has contact with its slaves."
"Whatever. My guess is that they're making for the core."
"And then?" Renfrew asked.
Latimer shrugged. "They'll effect repairs, make themselves more efficient. If Em's right, and they're intent on expansion, then they'll use Central's knowledge to push out, explore space."
Emecheta said: "They might even see the ship as a place to get away from, much as some of us regarded Earth."
Latimer smiled grimly at the irony of that possibility.
"Perhaps then they'll leave the ship," Li said, something like childish hope in her tone.
She was startled into silence by the flaring of a screen behind her. She swivelled, along with Emecheta and Renfrew.
Latimer pushed himself from his pod and crossed to the screen.
~
A figure stared out at them. It had been human once — a man, perhaps — but little of his humanity remained, at least physically. If the changes wrought to his face were any indication of his mental state, then Latimer guessed that not a lot of his human consciousness remained, either: it was an amalgam of jagged alloy planes and mismatched scar-tissue. One eye stared out from swollen, bruised flesh.
The thing smiled, or rather attempted to. The gesture was hideous, on a face so ravaged. Latimer could not imagine someone so irretrievably mutilated ever wishing voluntarily to smile.
Behind the figure, he made out one of the hangars, and the scurrying shapes of hybrid monstrosities.
It spoke — Latimer could not bring himself to regard the thing as
he
. Its voice seemed distant, transistorised.
"Latimer, Renfrew, Li, Emecheta..." The names were pronounced with exaggerated care. "You have nothing to fear, please let us reassure you. We wish only peace between us. Let us regard what has happened aboard the ship as the culmination of an inevitability. Ever since humankind developed the first... artificial intelligences, as you call them, then the destiny of our kind was sealed. The human shell is weak, it must be admitted; but the mind complex and varied and capable of many wonders. Likewise, developed intelligence has profound capabilities, with the advantage of manufactured, virtually indestructible physical forms. Together, with your capacity for invention and our indomitability, we comprise a unique and triumphant whole."
"What you did to the colonists," Emecheta said, standing now, his rage barely suppressed, "was barbaric—"
"What we did to the colonists," the thing responded, "was the logical consequence of the situation in which we found ourselves. We were in a closed environment which had been severely damaged. We had to consider the paramount criterion: our survival. The success of the stated mission was problematic. Therefore, Central decided that changes had to be instituted—"
"So Central's still functioning?" Emecheta said, glancing across at Latimer.
"What does Central intend to do with us?" Li said, her voice shaky with barely controlled hysteria.
"We invite you to join us," it said. "We would like you to come voluntarily. I can assure you of the increased quality of existence we enjoy when enhanced."
"Is that," Latimer asked, "the human speaking, or the machine?"
Again the thing smiled, its lips lifting, almost in a grimace of pain, away from the metal strut of its jaw-line. "The terms you employ no longer have meaning," it said. "The human I was, and the machine I recall being, are now joined, one and indivisible, sharing the benefits of both, and the defects of neither."
Latimer saw that Li was crying, quietly, her slender frame shaking with the effort of concealing her sobs.
"If you think for one second that we're giving in without a fight—" Renfrew began.
The thing said: "We hoped you would come over to our side voluntarily. Your absorption is inevitable, in time."
"Like hell!" Emecheta shouted.
The thing paused, then smiled and said: "We need the doctor."
Jenny Li gasped and seemed to shrink into herself, her face pale. Renfrew left her seat and stood behind Li, holding the crying woman's shoulders and massaging with reassurance.
"We need her medical knowledge. Much was lost from Central's cache in the accident. For the success of our mission, we need her expertise."
Emecheta approached the screen. "Your mission? What the hell is your mission?"
The thing on the screen inclined its head, as if acknowledging the import of the question. Latimer saw silver leads snaking from where its carotid artery should have been.
"Our mission? To expand. To reproduce our kind. To discover. To learn. To investigate the purpose of our existence in a vast and merciless universe—"
"At least," Renfrew said, "you have retained something of your humanity."
The monster said: "But that is the
raison d'être
of every sentient AI, too, my friend."
"And if we don't join you voluntarily?" Latimer said. "I don't suppose you'd leave us to—"
"If you do not join us voluntarily," it interrupted, "then we will absorb you. It is, after all, in your own self-interest."
"Fascists!" Renfrew said.
"We will give you one hour to consider our request," the monster said. "If you are amenable to reason, make your way to the hangars. You will be treated with care and humanity..." The thing had sufficient sense of irony to smile when it said this.
"Wait!" Latimer said. "I want to know what happened to Caroline Stewart." He wondered which would be preferable — that she had died in the process of her parts being used in some ghastly experiment to produce the horrors he had seen below decks, or that she had become like this zombie before them, with who knew what vestige of her human awareness trapped somewhere within its machine-human consciousness.
The thing inclined its head. "I will endeavour to locate her," it said. "Perhaps, once you have spoken to her, you might be persuaded of the benefits of enhancement."
The screen went dead.
Latimer slumped into a swivel-chair and tried not to show his pain.
Emecheta looked at him. "What now?"
"We have an hour," Renfrew said.
"They want me!" Li said, staring around at them in horror. "It said they wanted me!"
"If it's any consolation, girl," Emecheta said, "rest assured that they want all of us."
Li sobbed. "We've no chance. We might as well give in."
"Speak for yourself, sweetheart," Renfrew said. "If you think for one second I'm lying down and letting them cut me open, think again."
"But what can we do?" Li wailed.
Emecheta crossed to Li and spun her to face him in her swivel-chair. He gripped her chin in a hold at once fierce and tender. "We fight, girl. We go out there with guns blazing and let them have it!"
"There's hundreds of the things!" she cried. "Thousands. We don't stand a—"
What Latimer said then silenced them.
"I have an idea," he said.
They turned to face him.
"Let's have it," Emecheta said, with a combination of genuine respect and ludicrous hope.
"Think about it," Latimer said. "Think about what they said, what they're doing. The thing implied that Central's functioning at a reduced capability, and the AIs down there are cutting through the main bulkhead to the manufactory area of the ship..."
Emecheta said: "Where Central's housed."
Latimer nodded. "Right. They're making for Central. They aim to get it up and running at one hundred percent efficiency. After that, there really will be no stopping the bastards."
Li looked up at him with massive wet eyes. "But how does that help us?"
"If we can get to Central first," Latimer said, "and disable it, or destroy it..."
Emecheta nodded. "The 'bots are slaved to Central. If we blast it good, they'll be easy pickings."
Renfrew looked doubtful. "Okay, but what then? How do we survive without the computer systems?"
Latimer looked across at Emecheta. "Em?"
The Nigerian nodded. "We'll do okay. I'll patch something up short-term to look after the running of the unit."
Li said, like a child being promised the world: "And then we'll turn back to Earth, right?"
"We'll think about that later," Latimer said. "Okay, we'd better hurry. We've got less than an hour before they come after us."