Redemption Ark

There was no immediate answer from Seventeen. For a moment the fear was gone, the neural thrall interrupted by a blank instant of calm, like the drawing of breath between agonised screams.

[We don’t know.]

No?

[No. They didn’t want us to know.]

Volyova marshalled her thoughts with the care of someone placing heavy ornaments on a rickety shelf. I think the Conjoiners made you. That’s my working hypothesis, and nothing you’ve told me has led me to think it might need reconsidering.

[It doesn’t matter who made us, does it? Not now.]

Probably not. I’d like to know for curiosity’s sake, but the most important thing is that you’re still capable of serving me.

The weapon tickled the part of her mind that registered amusement. [Serving you, Ilia? Whatever gave you that impression?]

You did what I asked of you, in the past. Not you specifically, Seventeen –1 never asked anything of you — but whenever I asked anything of the other weapons, they always obeyed me.

[We didn’t obey you, Ilia.]

No?

[No. We humoured you. It amused us to do what you asked of us. Often that was indistinguishable from following your commands — but only from your point of view.]

You’re just saying that.

[No. You see, Ilia, whoever made us gave us a degree of free will. There must have been a reason for that. Perhaps we were expected to act autonomously, or to piece together a course of action from incomplete or corrupted orders. We must have been created to be doomsday weapons, you see, weapons of final resort. Instruments of End Times.]

You still are.

[And are these End Times, Ilia?]

I don’t know. I think they might be.

[You were frightened before you came here, I can tell. We all can. What exactly is it that you want of us, Ilia?]

There’s a problem you might have to attend to.

[A local problem?]

In this system, yes. I’d need you to deploy beyond the ship… beyond this chamber… and help me.

[But what if we decide not to help you?]

You will. I’ve looked after you for so long, taking care of you, keeping you safe from harm. I know you’ll help me.

The weapon held her suspended, stroking her mind playfully. Now she knew what a mouse felt like after the cat had caught it. She felt that she was only an instant away from having her spine broken in two.

But as abruptly as it had come, the paralysis eased. The weapon still imprisoned her, but she was regaining some voluntary muscle control.

[Perhaps, Ilia. But let’s not pretend that there aren’t complicating factors.]

Nothing we can’t work around…

[It will be very difficult for us to do anything without the co-operation of the other one, Ilia. Even if we wanted to.]

The other one?

[The other… entity… that continues to exert a degree of control over us.]

Her mind dwelled on the possibilities before she realised what the weapon had to be talking about. You mean the Captain.

[Our autonomy is not so great that we can act without the other entity’s permission, Ilia. No matter how cleverly you attempt to persuade us.]

The Captain just needs persuading, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll come around, in the end.

[You have always been an optimist, haven’t you, Ilia?]

No… not at all. But I have faith in the Captain.

[Then we hope your powers of persuasion are up to the task, Ilia.]

I do too.

She gasped suddenly, as if she had been stomach-punched. Her head was empty again and the horrid sense of something sitting immediately behind her had gone, as abruptly as a slamming door. There was not even a hint of the presence in her peripheral vision. She was floating alone, and although she was still imprisoned in the weapon, the feeling that it was haunted had vanished.

Volyova gathered her breath and her composure, marvelling at what had just happened. In all the years she had worked with the weapons she had never once suspected that any of them harboured a guardian subpersona, much less a machine intelligence of at least high gamma-level status — even possibly low-to-medium beta-level.