Ghost Ship - Diane Carey [56]
That wasn’t exactly what he hoped would come out when he opened his mouth, but Riker faced Data squarely with the question and told himself he’d find a way to bring up the other subject sooner or later.
“I have some new information, sir,” Data said, “though not all clear.”
“I’m listening. Make it concise.”
Data nodded once, then thought about the right words.
“The phenomenon,” he began slowly, “is like me.”
“Like you? Some form of-” Riker stopped himself and was embarrassed when Data filled in the blank.
“A mechanism,” the android said. “Crafted by someone else. A living tool, fabricated at so high a level of engineering that it may or may not be a lifeform.”
“Were you speaking to it, then?”
“I was in contact. I dare not say there was a conversation, however. It took from me what it pleased and gave me only what it chose. I was receiving, but I was unable to transmit. Perhaps I was too far away from the source. Or perhaps I was simply not built to be a transmitter … as I hoped I would be.”
“Data, we don’t expect you-“
“Perhaps if I go out alone in a shuttlecraft, I could gain more intimate contact.”
“Don’t be crazy,” Riker blurted. “Nobody’s going out in anything, not even you.”
Until it came out, Riker didn’t think about the callous implication of that sentence, but now he held his breath and hoped Data bleeped over it.
“This mechanism is dangerous to us, sir. I am no longer in doubt of that,” the android went on. The dim lighting of the battle bridge caught the starkness of his coloring as he stood there on the upper deck. “It must only be a matter of limited time before it learns to differentiate between general matter in this area of space or that nearby solar system and the construction of the Enterprise. It will demolish the ship, just as it demolished the Gorshkov three centuries ago.”
“Now wait a minute,” Riker said, holding up his hand. “We aren’t sure that’s what happened to the Gorshkov.”
“I am sure. It will destroy us in a singularly violent manner as soon as it can. It intends to destroy us as soon as it can find us again.”
And he was absolutely sure, if that could be gleaned from his expression. He was even more impassive than usual, and Riker had to look hard to see any flickers of emotion. Data might be an android, but his face was usually pleasantly animated, and the blankness bothered Riker. Data’s habitual demeanor would have reassured him a little.
Slowly he asked, “Did you get any clues as to its nature?”
“It was built eons ago, and it contains the destructive power of several starships,” Data said flatly. “Most disturbingly, though, sir, it is encoded with what it believes is permission to use that power at its own discretion.”
“Oh, great,” Riker moaned. “I’ve seen bulldozers with more discretion than that thing.”
Data paused, and if he could be in a mood, he wasn’t in one for chitchat. The pause was long enough to make Riker uncomfortable, enough to make him look up.
“Go on,” Riker said with a touch of weariness.
“As I said, it may be a level of machine evolution so high that it is virtually alive.”
An ugly prospect, Riker thought, but luckily he didn’t say that. “And?”
“And … it destroys mechanical vessels which contain energies it recognizes, while preserving the life forces of the living beings involved.”
“But why? Why would it roam the galaxy sucking up life essences? Who would build a machine to destroy ships but preserve the stuff of living consciousness? That doesn’t make sense.”
“Unknown, sir. But it does make sense from a defensive point of view. We do not as yet know if it has the same reaction to whole planets as it does to vessels. If so, it may be a weapon of defense that turned on its own creators.”
“Is that a real possibility?”
“No, sir, it is only a guess.”
“But it unconditionally preserves the life-what?-life forces? Of the beings it absorbs?”
“Not only that, sir, but the entire consciousness. Memories, desires, everything. They are, in effect, still alive in there.”
Folding his arms, Riker leaned forward on the bridge rail and pondered the idea.