‘I said “with interest”.’
‘I see.’
‘I suppose you’ll be wanting a new ship body?’ Jerusalem enquired.
‘That would perhaps be a good idea.’
‘Would it? You seem to make a habit of wrecking them. You will take better care of a new one this time, won’t you, Jack?’
‘Bollocks,’ replied Jack Ketch.
Gazing through the panoramic window in one of the
‘The AIs
Ensconced on the couch in this viewing lounge, he smelt her hair and felt quite comfortable with her head resting on his chest. ‘The AIs assess events and make their predictions, but “cards” does seem an apt description—it all can seem as unlikely as tarot to the rest of us.’
‘They did not predict so well. Many people have died and many ships were destroyed,’ Mika observed. ‘And, from what I gather, there is still some confusion about what Erebus’s overall strategy might be.’
Cormac nodded, the illogic of recent events bothering him too. ‘Erebus just gave us a very bloody nose indeed, but I agree: why deliver a bloody nose early rather than await the opportunity to deliver a killing blow?’
‘You might also ask: why attack at all? As the understatement goes, space is big and there’s room in it for us all.’
‘The Makers didn’t think so.’
‘We don’t know what they thought.’
‘Indeed,’ Cormac concurred.
Cormac could not yet see the rogue AI’s intent, but he would see it at some point, just as he had fathomed Blegg before the man understood himself. Earth Central, whom he spoke to only an hour before entering this lounge, had told him, ‘I needed an agent directly connected to myself, a probe into human society to ken events from the human level.’
‘But why a probe that considered itself immortal?’ Cormac asked.
‘He required continuity to give himself the necessary perspective. I created Blegg’s mind thirty seconds after I myself came online, mapped out his history and decided how I would run him.’
‘Why the legend?’
‘The memes originated not from Blegg or myself, but from all those humans with whom he became involved over the ages. At first I considered stopping those memes—keeping his existence secret — but I soon learned how, in the presence of a living legend, humans often feel impelled to excel. Humans need their heroes, they need to believe they can be something… better. The legend of the lone immortal has been a staple of myth throughout human history, and Blegg perfectly fitted that mould.’
‘And what about what happened to him back there?’
‘In the early years I ran him in a Golem chassis, but substantial alterations of his memory kept being required since injury easily revealed to him what he really was. Only when technology had reached a certain level was I able to create his biomech bodies. However, such bodies contain much information that could be useful to an enemy, so they had to contain a fail-safe, as did his mind.’
‘But he knew what he was—you let him know there on Cull, with that Jain node. He told me Mr Crane tossed it to him and he caught it in his bare hand, and because it did not react to him he knew he wasn’t human.’
‘He would have learned anyway. Your assertion to him that he was an avatar of me was only a small step. The sheer accumulation of data throughout his existence was leading him to that same inevitable conclusion. Only by erasing hundreds of years of his memory could I return him to his original unknowing state, and then he would be of little use to me anyway.’
‘Are you going to resurrect him again?’
‘Blegg is obsolescent.’
‘But surely you need him now more than ever?’
‘No, I do not, for I have you, Ian Cormac’
Sprawled on the sofa, Cormac felt his surprisingly relaxed attitude stemmed from the utter weariness at his core. But how true was his weariness? How true was anything about him? He could move through U-space just like Blegg could not… or was that a lie?
…
Gazing out at the star drives and the stars, Cormac wondered if he was the new model Horace Blegg just created by Earth Central. He studied his hand.