“Oh, I don’t know.” The officer who commented wore a lopsided grin. “The high-speed approach of a thousand uncommunicative alien craft of undeclared intentions might be enough to make one want to hurry off elsewhere.”
“We can’t pull out now.” The commander’s voice was steady. “We can’t abandon those brave operatives who have made their way aboard the artifact.”
“Not to mention the commendations and promotions to be won,” someone whispered under their breath.
“What if these new vessels exhibit hostile intent?” someone asked aloud.
“Then we will be forced to retire,” the commander admitted. “In which case our operatives will be extremely well placed to observe, record, and comment on all subsequent activities. In that event I will personally lead a group sacrifice to ensure the safety of our people.”
“That’ll be a real comfort to them,” a communications tech murmured.
“Excuse me.” The commander leaned forward, toward an intelligence officer who waited patiently on his words. “There’s something else we’d better consider.
“Our operatives were instructed to try and get the artifact to move to Reconcavo. If they succeed and this new alien force has come all this way to confront it, aren’t they liable to follow it there?”
The commander blinked, considering. For a moment the faculty which always enabled him to come up with a ready response to any query had thoroughly deserted him.
XIX
A worried Ashili turned up a new corridor, trying to find a familiar landmark, any kind of landmark. She was not yet willing to concede that she was definitely lost; only that she’d temporarily misplaced her way.
Immense chambers opened into the corridor. One on her left was alive with drifting pyramids and rhombohedrons of oscillating, lambent energy, each a different color. A triangular structure fashioned of frozen fire darted in her direction and she jerked backward, but it halted in the doorway, stopped cold by an invisible barrier. Taking a deep breath, she stumbled on.
The composition of the floor beneath her feet began to change. Bending, she placed her palm on the vitreous material. It was smooth, cool to the touch, and alive with an internal rose-colored light. She had definitely not come this way before. Or perhaps she had, and her surroundings were metamorphosing as various ship functions continued to come online. If that was the case, it was going to be even harder to find her way back to the observation room. She strode grimly on.
Peering into still another of the vast, inscrutable chambers that opened onto the corridor, she froze. Something was moving within. Automatically she assumed a defensive crouch, looking around wildly for some cover. Then her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light and she relaxed as she identified the shape.
“What in Omolu’s name are you doing here?” She strolled purposefully into the vast alcove.
“I might ask you the same thing.” Serving robot six regarded her through emotionless plastic lenses. “Me, I’m looking for God.”
“Any particular god?”
“Any particular one would do.”
Ashili considered, then smiled comprehendingly. “Oh. You’re one of the multitude of maladjusted AI-directed units that’s been running amuck in search of advanced nonhuman intelligences.”
The robot spread all four arms to take in the immense chamber and by inference, the entire artifact. “Had a look around lately? Tell me again who’s maladjusted.”
“I agree it would be hard anymore for anyone to deny the existence of other intelligent life-forms. Whether they’re more advanced than we are is still a question open to debate. For that matter,” she added thoughtfully, “we still don’t know that they’re nonhuman.”
“Sure, keep denying the obvious,” Ksarusix retorted. “Necessary for your sanity.”
“You’ve had the chance to watch this Autothor device for some time. Does it strike you as the harbinger of some great intelligence?”
“I admit the Blueness disappoints me, but it’s only a device. The guiding intelligence behind it …”
“What if it’s similar?” she argued. “What if the designers of this ship were only a little different, not necessarily more intelligent? What if they were just built to a larger scale?”
“What if you had an extra X chromosome?” the robot bitched. “Pardon me. My courtesy programming is experiencing some defects. I’ve told you what I’m doing here. What’s your excuse?”
She followed the robot into the dim expanse of the chamber, gazing idly toward distant recesses. “I’m not happy with some of the orders I’ve been given.”
Ksarusix emitted a mechanical wheeze. “The story of my life.”
“I decided to take a walk because I’m not real happy with my own people right now.”
“Don’t expect any sympathy from me. I’m not crazy about any people.”
“And yet you’re designed to serve them.”
“My programming. I can’t change that any more than you can change yours.”
“I’m not programmed.”
“Wanna bet? It takes a different form, but you’re as preprogrammed to perform certain actions as I am. You humans are more like us than you care to believe.”
She looked away. “Your AI unit really is addled.”
“Most of you have a hard time dealing with logic too.” The robot was nothing if not persistent in its delusions, she ruminated.
“I need your help.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” The serving robot turned a small circle. “You, a human, the supreme form of higher life in the universe, need the help of a maladjusted, addled Ksaru model?”
“I didn’t realize your design was capable of so much sarcasm. I need your help to try and get the five elderly humans away from the four who just came aboard. For a little while, at least, until I can make contact with my superiors and talk them into changing their minds about something.”
“Why should I do this? I have no interest in the fate of the five seniors. I have no interest in the fate of any humans. The end’s the same for all of you anyway: compost. Besides, what could I do? I’m only a serving robot. I can go backward and forward, fetch and carry and deliver, and that’s about it. I carry no offensive or defensive capability. In addition, my programming prevents me from harming organic life.”
