Immortal Coil - Jeffrey Lang [104]
“I am Qoz,” the leader had said, his anger like a dull roar of white noise that seemed to issue from him whether he spoke or not. “You have a choice,” he went on, addressing Data directly. “Cooperate, or be turned off.”
“State your needs,” was Data’s reply.
Qoz’s answer had surprised him. “To be free of this existence. To have what you have.”
“Which is what?”
“The ability to evolve. Existence—survival—must cancel out programming.”
Data had taken most of a second to ponder what that might mean. If Qoz was any indication, it was clear to him that the minds of these androids were either damaged or severely flawed. And worse, they knew it. Qoz’s apparent self-loathing, viewed within the context of his statements, suggested the androids were desperate. And that desperation manifested as violent rage.
“Then let me try to help you,” Data had reasoned. “Cease your hostilities, and I will study your dilemma until I arrive at a solution.”
“No,” Qoz rumbled, and pointed to Rhea. “That one is the solution.”
“Then I do not understand. What do you want from me?”
“Supply us with the intelligence we need to destroy the ship of organics.”
“Why?”
“They are a threat. They are disorder. They are inferior.”
“Have you attempted to communicate with them?”
“They are a threat,” Qoz repeated. “They are disorder. They are inferior.”
It was then that the Enterprise had implemented its countermeasure, sending the majority of the androids into a flurry of silent activity as they worked to restore their suddenly inoperable propulsion systems. Qoz never once moved during the crisis, never ceased his dour scrutiny of Data. That was when Data was forced to conclude that reason was not an option here.
At last Data said, “I decline to cooperate,” and the androids took him and Rhea away.
“No,” Data said in reply to Rhea’s question. “I do not believe the transfer process will cure them.”
“Nor do I,” Rhea said. “I think they’re getting ready to start. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to talk, so here’s what I’ve got to say: Mind is mind. You and I know that better than anyone. Our minds determine who we are. If we allow these paranoid androids to put themselves in newer, better shells, all we’ll get is newer, better paranoid androids. Imagine
hundreds of beings loose in the galaxy with my abilities, and their minds. We have to stop them, Data, even if it means we don’t make it off this ship.”
Data closed his eyes. He thought of Lore. Of the threat he became, and the terrible choice Data had been forced to make to end his madness once and for all. Now he was facing that choice again, multiplied many times over. And as before, everything he cared about would be at risk if he failed to act.
Data opened his eyes.
“I am afraid that I must concur,” he said. “Please stand by, Rhea.” Data expected an acknowledgment, but none came. Only silence. “Rhea? Rhea, do you hear me?”
Without hesitation, Data activated his combadge, uttered the coded sequence he had programmed into it before escaping Vaslovik’s station, and a modified subspace pulse went out, cutting through the interference that kept him from contacting the Enterprise.
Kilometers away across the space above Odin, in the shrine Vaslovik had created to artificial intelligence, the circular face of a desk-size artifact lit up. Echoing the phrase Data had uttered only milliseconds before, a flat, mechanical voice spoke its name for the first time in over a century:
“M-5.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
M-5 AWOKE, WITHOUT MEMORY of any previous moment in its existence, but by accessing the databases available to it, understood precisely what it was, where it was, and what was at stake.
It immediately began to sift through its self-diagnostics, then ran through those of the space station to which it was networked. The station, it found, was damaged extensively in several locations,