Synthesis - James Swallow [106]
“We won’t leave,” she told it. “We can’t, not with a threat as big as the Null about to break through.”
White-Blue sank back onto its six legs. “Your assistance is not required—”
This time, the female interrupted. “That data file proves otherwise. Without our involvement, you would not have survived to bring those readings back here. Without our ship’s computer and our crew, you would not have been able to interpret them.”
“You overestimate the strength of my voice in our society,” it replied. “My status is negligible. The Governance Kernel has previously heard my petitions and dismissed them as alarmist.” White-Blue hesitated, the memory of those moments causing a flare of irritation. “The FirstGen have seniority, and they are hidebound by their programming. They are reluctant to admit they are in error over anything.”
“What about Cyan-Gray and the other SecondGen AIs in the group?”
“Some will listen,” White-Blue admitted, “but others are more interested in their own agendas. They may not consider these data to be valid, coming in part as they do from organics.”
Troi stepped forward and placed her hand on the top of White-Blue’s carapace. The gesture had no quantifiable physical value to it, but the Sentry sensed the meaning the female intended. It is an expression of solidarity. The recognition of a shared duty.
“The Governance Kernel is convening to pool information in our consensual dataspace,” it told her. “I will gain access and present this datum.”
The woman’s lips thinned. “Captain Riker feels that this requires the presence of an officer from the Titan as well as you. To demonstrate our seriousness.”
“And also to keep a watch on me.” White-Blue studied her with a tertiary eye cluster and saw that its statement was correct. “The matter of confidence between us is still an issue. I understand. However, it will be difficult to get the Kernel members to reconvene another real-time physical gathering. The more militant factions carry much weight at this time, and I compute that Red-Gold will be strongly against granting an organic entry to a closed session.”
“Then how can we speak to them, face-to-face? This isn’t something that can go through intermediaries. It needs to be addressed now.”
White-Blue retreated a few steps and panned an analysis wand toward the humanoid, considering other options. It found a solution to the problem almost immediately, but with it came the certainty that resistance to its implementation would be strong. “There is a method,” it told her. “But it will require a great deal of confidence.”
• • •
The door to sickbay hissed open, and Dr. Ree looked up to see Commander Vale enter, her face tight with annoyance, her hand raised in a halting motion. “Okay, this stops right now.”
Ree hesitated, the medical protoplaser gripped in his claw, and he shared a concerned glance with Nurse Ogawa. As Vale crossed the room in quick strides, the captain pushed himself off the biobed and came out to meet her. At his side, Troi frowned. Only the Sentry mechanoid appeared to be unconcerned, but then it was difficult to read the emotional state of a device that resembled a giant metal arachnid. The machine was frozen in its stance, arched over the end of the bed with its tool limbs extended.
“Christine, stand down,” Riker was saying.
“With all due respect, sir, the hell I will.” Vale folded her arms. “I won’t let you go through with this. It’s irresponsible, it’s dangerous, it’s—”
“My choice,” the captain said firmly. “We can’t just barge into the room down there, Commander,” he added. “This is the only way we’re getting into the Governance Kernel’s assembly.”
“There is no room to barge into,” noted Troi.
White-Blue bobbed on its legs. “Affirmative. The gathering is under way inside