Synthesis - James Swallow [105]
But lately, the waveform of that function was collapsing. Red-Gold’s strident code was most often the one that overrode the less vociferous Sentries. Not for the first time, White-Blue examined the possibility that Red-Gold had allowed passage of its shipframe beyond the secure perimeter, precisely because it had expected White-Blue’s operation to be terminated by the Null.
As an artifact of this assumption, the machine computed a synthetic proxy state corresponding to the emotional effect of dread, and despite attempts then to erase the pattern, White-Blue found it could not do so. It finally ceased the fruitless action as its sensors detected the approach of one of the organics.
“Identifier: Deanna-Troi. Species: Betazoid-human fusion. Interrogative: How may I assist you, Counselor?”
The female displayed a smile but not one of sufficient magnitude to indicate a genuine elevation in her mood level. “I thought you were assisting the engineering team.”
“Negative,” it replied. “I am not required at this juncture. Additionally, I believe my presence is counterproductive in some cases. Your crew find me difficult to integrate into their worldview.”
“I doubt that,” she answered. “No one aboard the Titan is fazed by the new or the alien.”
White-Blue corrected the error in her statement. “You are mistaken. You base your hypothesis on the appearance of organic divergent life. I am machine life. I am unlike. There is prejudice.”
Troi’s expression became firmer. “One could say that was true of your kind as well.”
“That is regretfully correct.”
“Recognizing a problem is the first step toward fixing it.” Her brow furrowed. For long clock cycles, the Betazoid appeared to be thinking. “Our Federation is based on the ideal of diverse peoples working toward a common goal. You asked how you could help me, White-Blue. You can help all of us, my people and yours, by working with us.”
“That function is already being performed.”
“I don’t mean the repairs.” She offered a data soft of the type these beings designated an “isolinear optical chip.” White-Blue had already configured a reader socket on one of its manipulators to accept this media for interface. “Titan’s computer and our science officer have analyzed our data and yours. You need to see this.” She paused again as White-Blue stepped closer and plucked the chip from her fingers.
The Sentry began a flash-upload process and dumped the data to a cache, sifting it for parity before dropping it into the web of research work and unfinished supposition that it had been collating over the past few solar cycles.
Surprise was expressed immediately, then a thrill of concern that radiated out over its emotional emulator circuits. White-Blue checked the data a further five times, far beyond the number needed to ensure no redundancy, no error or misrepresentation. All of this it did in less than a few seconds on the Betazoid’s scale.
White-Blue’s vocoder clicked on. “The Null is coming back,” it said. The statement was redundant, and yet the magnitude of it could not be contained. “This data is alarming. I am… reluctant to admit that I was correct. I had hoped my predictions were in error.” Already, the AI had set a countdown program spinning, measuring the passing clock cycles until the anticipated incursion. “The Titan’s system was able to compute these data where a Sentry could not. Impressive.”
“Captain Riker asked me to bring this to you. We need you to take these findings to the Governance Kernel. Together, if we mobilize all of our resources—”
White-Blue