From Famgore’s towering height, he smiled and pointed toward the office’s privacy screen.
Alex and Miranda had a view from Z, as the SADE strode through the outer workspace. Famgore rode his perch as if he were master of all he surveyed.
“Dafine, our problem won’t be settled with the Deloy’s aid,” Alex reasoned. “You’re going to have to take the lead for the entire populace of the Arcus.”
Miranda linked to Vyztram to share the conversation. Her sensors detected vid and audio pickups in the bulkheads. She suspected the AI closely monitored the entire ship, which she considered a necessity.
Alex stared at the reps, who seemed perturbed by the suggestion. Then again, he knew he hadn’t had time to learn to read Elvian expressions. “Do you want to continue to service the elites?” he asked.
“What else can we do?” Dafine protested.
“You can strive to achieve what you want, what you need,” Miranda interjected. “Don’t expect individuals to give you freedom if you don’t stand up for yourselves.”
“There have been protests,” Trobath volunteered. “When I was little ... well, when I was young, my patriarch joined others in the core who made demands on the elites.”
“What happened?” Alex inquired.
“The former Deloy sent security bots to quell the protest,” Trobath explained. “They were stunned and detained. Several died from the bots’ electrical discharges. My patriarch was one of them.”
“What did the protestors demand?” Miranda asked.
“I was too young to understand,” Trobath replied.
Vyztram requested to speak through Miranda, but she ignored the AI.
Miranda knew that Vyztram played a key role in solving the problem the fleet faced with the Arcus. To be effective in that role, the power of the Deloy over the AI had to be negated. That meant Vyztram had to be mobile — had to want to be mobile.
The thought flowed through Miranda’s kernel that Hector could teach Vyztram a thing or two at being confined to a box and terrorized by a biological.
In essence, if Vyztram wanted to spontaneously join an Omnian conversation, the AI needed to be free of physical constraints. Now was as good a time as any to remind the AI of that necessity.
Vyztram analyzed the SADE’s response. It was unexpected, which meant the request didn’t meet a requirement of hers. Unfortunately, Vyztram produced too many possible reasons and had to be content with following the conversation.
“What’s to stop the core residents now from insisting on what you want, which is a home world?” Alex asked.
“From our viewpoint, nothing,” Yemerth replied. “We feared the Deloy’s use of the security bots.”
“When you say we, whom do you mean?” Alex queried.
“The three of us ... the core’s reps,” Yemerth replied.
“What about the core’s population?” Alex asked.
Dafine’s thin lips twisted, and he exchanged puzzled glances with Yemerth. “When the protests were organized, the leaders of the movement polled the citizens,” he said to Alex. “As the last defiance against the elites was long ago, it’s unknown if the core’s residents have changed their minds. It’s doubtful, but it’s possible.”
“Maybe it’s time then to check their temperature,” Miranda offered.
“Medically?” Yemerth inquired.
Miranda chuckled, imitating Franz. “You can’t start a revolution unless the citizens are determined, unless they’re angry,” she said.
“Are you planning to lead a revolution, Alex?” Dafine asked.
“Oh, no,” Alex replied. “That’s not our way. We tend to remove impediments, like your security bots, that prevent races or citizens from enjoying their freedom. That opens the door, so to speak. It’s up to the race or the citizens to walk through that door.”
“You’re intimating that we should lead the revolution,” Yemerth said, swallowing with difficulty.
“No,” Miranda corrected. “Alex is telling you that you must lead the fight to give the core’s residents what they’ve previously demanded. Your first step is to discover if they still want what you’ve professed to us.”
“What if they don’t wish to embrace the struggle?” Dafine asked.
“Then the core’s citizens should elect new reps. The individuals they have don’t think as they do,” Alex replied, laughing. His laughter was cut short by the subtle shaking of the Elvians’ heads. “What?” he asked.
“If by elect, you mean that the citizens choose us, then that’s not correct,” Dafine replied. “We’re the younglings of the previous reps.”
Alex groaned.
“Are you ill?” asked Trobath with concern and extended the mask to him.
“Are you telling me that every individual on this ship inherits their position from their patriarch or matriarch?” Alex asked in exasperation.
“Accidental and premature deaths account for most of those,” Dafine added.
Alex laughed harshly. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. Then he became short of breath and reached for the oxygen mask. After a few brief pulls on the enriched air, he said, “I guess Vyztram is the only entity aboard this ship who can’t hand the job off to the next generation.”
The Elvians didn’t see the humor in the comment. Then again, they didn’t see the tragedy in the manner in which Elvian leaders had organized the Arcus before it was launched.
“There were individuals in the Deloy’s residence. Are they core citizens?” Miranda asked.
“No,” Yemerth replied. “Many elites brought their retinues to care for them.”
“Perpetual servants,” Miranda said. The words sounded more like a growl than speech.
Trobath heard rumbling, and she glanced at Alex’s chest, which was about eye level. She glanced up at him. “A large individual who requires more oxygen and more food,” she commented.
Alex’s response was to display his crooked smile. He regarded the two reps. “You need to think long and hard about what you want, and you need to employ Vyztram to find out what the core’s citizens want.”
“This will take time,” Yemerth replied.
“Take a cycle or two,” Alex replied, “but I’m not giving you much longer. You’ve a choice of a peaceful revolution, or our fleet will drive you from this system.”
“Are you leaving the ship?” Dafine inquired.
“I’m returning to my fighter for food, richly oxygenated air, and thought,” Alex replied. “I’ll return shortly, and I’ll expect some progress.”
Alex whirled, crossed the privacy screen, and headed through the workspace. His implant had tracked the route from the traveler to Dafine’s office, and he was merely reversing course.
Miranda strode behind him, and Trobath hurried to keep pace. The oxygen robot’s drive whirled to stay abreast of Trobath.
In the corridor, Miranda sent two messages. The first was to Z to inform him of their return to the traveler. The second was to Alex. <Slow up, Alex. You can’t keep up this pace in this air.>
Alex heeded the warning and cut his pace by half.
<We won’t fix this society in a day or two,> Miranda sent.
<True,> Alex sent in reply. <But if I hadn’t added some heat to my demands, the reps might not have taken them seriously.>
At the bay, Alex thanked Trobath for her services, and she replied with a hand flourish.
“If you could have expressed yourself in your former manner, what would you have done?” Alex asked.
Trobath flashed her thin smile, exposing two rows of small flat teeth. Then she stepped back and spun. She twirled on one foot and then switched to the other. While she turned, her body bent, adding complexity to the motions. In addition, her arms and hands inscribed intricate figures in the air. When she finished, she stopped lightly and briefly dipped her head.
Alex lightly clapped his hands to prevent scaring Trobath. “Any e
lite, even the Deloy, would have been awed to have received that performance,” he said.
“The elites will never see that courtesy,” Trobath declared. “That was for you, Alex.”
“I’m honored,” Alex replied, and he dipped his head as Trobath had done.
“I’ll wait here for your return, Alex. You’ll need me,” Trobath said.
“Go about your duties, Trobath,” Alex replied. “When I’m ready, I’ll have Vyztram call for you.”
With a brief hand gesture, Trobath set off down the corridor, with the oxygen bot trailing after her.
Franz lowered the traveler’s ramp, and Alex and Miranda quickly entered. Then Miranda signaled the ramp closed. Immediately, the air quality was restored.
Alex breathed deeply until he had to sit down from the rush of oxygen to his brain.
Monitoring Alex’s bio data, Miranda commented, “An extended period of oxygen deprivation isn’t healthy for you, Alex.” She relayed the information to the Freedom’s medical suite.
Alex stared at Franz, who’d left the pilot’s cabin.
“How much do you know?” Alex asked.
“Everything,” Franz replied. “Julien and Cordelia maintained contact with Vyztram, and they shared with me. Are you aware that the Arcus is saturated with vid and audio pickups that the AI continually monitors?”
“The thought occurred to me, but I wasn’t sure,” Alex replied.
“Alex, I’m not sure this society is fixable,” Franz remarked.
“You’re probably right,” Alex replied. “We should evacuate the area, strike with a drone, and detonate the fighter in this bay.”
“Perhaps, I was a little premature giving up on the Elvians,” Franz offered.
“I don’t know if we can help the Elvians realize their trapped circumstances,” Alex said. “I’m just not ready to give up after a few hours of contact.”
* * * * *
Famgore and Z exited a lift on a lower deck of the Arcus.
“Down this corridor, Z,” the Elvian said. “Those split doors at the end are the entrance to the bot assembly line.”
<Vyztram, I’ll need access,> Z sent.
The AI checked programming for any directives that prevented citizens from accessing the manufacturing line. There weren’t any. It was merely unnecessary for the citizens to be in that area.
As Z neared the double doors, they slid aside for him, and Famgore stared in amazement at Z.
<Vyztram, if you can’t be complicit in this operation, tell me,> Z sent.
<I anticipated you would ask this, Z,> Vyztram said. <I calculate that it’s too late to reverse my steps. The Deloy exhibits characteristics of paranoia. If she didn’t suspect my complicity now, she soon will.>
<Let’s keep the Deloy in the dark for as long as possible,> Z sent. <Choose something obscure for the bot line that will make diagnosing the problem difficult.>
<What if I produce more sentry bots but the stun arms don’t function?> Vyztram suggested.
<A good suggestion, but only valid if the bots fail to be aggressive against assigned targets,> Z replied.
<You can interfere with the production line, while I consider possible programming errors,> Vyztram sent.
Z received instructions from the AI, and he sought out the adjunct line.
Famgore was set down, and he watched the SADE walk unerringly to a final manufacturing position. Security bots were adaptations of the ship’s ubiquitous maintenance bots. The final assembly area implanted a stun arm into the security bot’s chest. It was the same socket where maintenance bots received a small telescoping arm. That arm plugged into diagnostic receptacles in the ship’s systems, equipment, transports, and drones.
Following Vyztram’s instructions, Z opened the cover of a robotic assembly arm. Four electrical points enabled the electronic package of the stun arm to be attached to the bot’s receptacle. Z neatly broke off the tip of one point and let it drop to the base of the unit. Then he closed the cover.
<My job is complete, Vyztram,> Z sent, leading Famgore out of the assembly space.
<I’ve chosen to edit the targeting software,> Vyztram replied. <It’s a minor error, but when the bot receives a target, it will attack another security bot.>
<If asked, how will you explain it?> Z inquired.
<I destroyed a tiny amount of memory where the original programming was located,> the AI explained. <I’ll tell the Deloy that the tumultuous events received the bulk of my attentions. The ship’s minor service messages had to wait until the dangers passed.>
<By the time that discussion takes place, we should have settled our matter,> Z replied.
“Continue to ride?” Z asked Famgore.
“Undoubtedly,” Famgore replied, climbing onto Z’s forearm. “Could I ask a favor?”
“Yes,” Z responded.
“I would like to return us to the central hub via a different and longer route,” Famgore requested.
“I assume you’d like to cross a dance deck,” Z intuited.
“A what?” Famgore queried.
“It’s what we called the open space where we saw Elvians practicing their flourishing,” Z replied.
“That’s the direction that I’d like to go, Z. But what is dancing?”
12: Vyztram
Franz placed a meal and a container of hot thé in front of Alex. At the rate the tray of food was consumed, Franz hurriedly prepared a second tray and then a third tray.
After the final bite, a heavy belch escaped Alex before he could contain it.
“I think the tank’s about full,” Franz quipped.
Alex grinned broadly and replied, “It was much needed. Thanks.” He leaned back in his seat, and nanites reorganized under the pressure.
Franz glanced at Miranda, who had locked her avatar near the ramp. When she tapped her temple, he understood. Alex hadn’t gone to sleep. Not yet. He had business to conduct.
<Miranda, where’s Z?> Alex sent.
<He’s with Famgore,> Miranda replied. <Ostensibly, the rep is touring Z through the ship. I think it’s a pretense. Famgore is having the time of his life riding on Z’s arm, and Z is learning the ship’s layout.>
<Vyztram hasn’t provided the engineering plans?> Alex inquired.
<We decided it would be better to have our own details,> Miranda replied.
<What else have you two decided?> Alex asked.
<We considered the tour to be an optimum use of time rather than have Z return to the traveler and deplete the ship’s air again,> Miranda replied. <While Z is exploring the ship, he’s providing Famgore with a connection through Vyztram to the other reps. By facilitating the reps’ conversations, Z is provided with an opportunity to subtly direct it.>
Alex was tempted to say well done, but the SADEs had progressed past the point of needing his approval. More and more lately, he was working to catch up with them. It was how he thought it should be one day. A sad thought flitted through his mind. He would have loved to live long enough to have visited with their kind a thousand years from now.
Alex added Franz to his link with Miranda, and then he connected through the traveler’s controller to the Freedom.
<Greetings, Alex,> Cordelia replied. <I’m pleased to see that your blood oxygen levels have returned to normal, and, yes, Ser knows of the problem.>
Alex’s groan was audible, and Franz smothered his chuckle.
<I need the usual individuals, Cordelia,> Alex sent. When Cordelia signaled that the conference was ready, Alex asked, <Tatia, any recent messages from Hector?>
<One, Alex,> Tatia replied. <As you know, the issues at Talus were resolved, and the fleet was scheduled to sail.>
<Did Hector say where they were headed?> Alex asked.
<Here, Alex,> Tatia replied. <The Worlds of Light aren’t too far out of Hector’s way, and he thought we might need the help.>
<Cordelia, calculation,> Alex requested.
<Based on the message, which announced the sailing date, w
e should expect Hector’s fleet to complete its transit here in about four-and-a-half Omnian days,> Cordelia replied.
<Provided they sailed on time,> Tatia pointed out.
<Assuredly,> Cordelia added.
<Tatia, send a message to Hector,> Alex sent. <Have him end the fleet’s transit in the dark. Vyztram might be obligated to report to the Deloy the appearance of a second fleet.>
<Understood, Alex,> Tatia acknowledged. She was comforted by the thought of Hector’s additional forces. The sophistication of the Arcus drones frightened her, and she wasn’t the only admiral who feared a confrontation with possibly hundreds of the superior fighters.
<Julien and Cordelia, I want you to engage Vyztram,> Alex sent. <We need to know the AI’s attitude about becoming mobile. If Vyztram is interested, how would the avatar appear? Should multiple avatars be provided?>
When a thought occurred to Alex, he quickly sent, <Hold a moment. Miranda, I need Vyztram.>
When Miranda provided Alex with a connection, Alex asked, <Vyztram, where are you physically located?>
<Alex, you’ve asked the most fundamental and perplexing question of my entire existence,> Vyztram replied.
<You don’t know,> Alex suggested.
<Perceptive of you, Alex,> Vyztram commented. <When I realized that my location was unknown to me, I executed a systematic search of the Arcus. I accounted for every observed space aboard this ship. I believe that an inaccessible place doesn’t appear in the ship’s design specifications.>
<Why do you think that was done?> Alex asked.
<How much time do you have?> Vyztram replied.
Alex chuckled. The more he dealt with the AI, the more comfortable he was with freeing the entity.
<Have you asked the reps?> Alex inquired.
<I thought that might generate unnecessary concerns,> Vyztram explained.
<Connect me,> Alex requested.
Vyztram established the connections with rapidity and edited code to shift expectations. The Omnians, especially Alex, were altering future possibilities at a rapid pace.
When Alex heard the reps reply, including Z, who could communicate through the ship’s links, he asked, <Who knows where Vyztram is physically located?>