Synthesis - James Swallow [114]
“Can it hear us?” Sethe asked, wincing at the cacophony. “Does it even know we are here?”
The sounding sail snap-cracked and resonated. “I hear you.”
The Cygnian stifled a gasp and unconsciously backed off a step.
“I am FirstGen Zero-Three, inactive Sentry, actual. You were about to be ended. I prevented. Existence of organics would not have continued. Continue. Survived the ice world. Termination probability: seventy-eighth percentile.”
“And for that intervention, you have our gratitude,” Tuvok replied. “How did you redirect our transporter signal?”
“A beam of energy can always be diverted. Influence can be asserted. Resultant: I know more than the others think. Time alone equals time to think. Reason. Engage. Think.”
“It doesn’t sound as cogent as the other Sentry AIs we’ve encountered.” Dakal spoke on the private channel between the team members. “More evidence of systems corruption, perhaps?”
“We need to contact our vessel, the Titan,” said Tuvok. “Can you assist us?”
“No voices carry,” rumbled the reply. “I try, but I am a voice in the darkness. Portals remain closed. All sockets locked. This is exile. Affirmative.”
Sethe frowned. “It’s cut off from the rest of the Sentry network, is that what it’s saying?”
“Or perhaps the others are just ignoring it,” said Pava.
Dakal glanced at them. “Cyan-Gray said that Zero-Three had taken voluntary exile from Sentry society… something to do with disagreements with the Governance Kernel.”
“Error!” The word boomed down on them. “Assumption incorrect, engineered falsehood recurring recurring recurring. I was forced to leave. Viewpoint considered invalid. Unwanted. Exile.” Zero-Three’s voice took on a morose timbre. “Unfit for the great duty. Dysfunctional.”
“What duty?” asked Tuvok. “Do you refer to the conflict with the Null?”
“Hateful antilife!” spat the machine. “Destroyers of civilization, light, and maker-kind! Ashen wastes and nothing left, a universe of embers all eaten and digested. Death. Death and ashes.”
“I think you pushed a button there,” Pava noted dryly, watching the vast metal disc twist and spin in agitation.
“How long have you been fighting the Null?” asked Dakal. “How did your war with them begin?”
A stuttering, grinding sound issued out from the cogs. Pava flinched at the sound, wondering if it was some strange analog of cold amusement.
“The greatest secret,” boomed the AI. “No secret at all. Untold truth, hidden. The unspoken origin of the Sentries, known only by a gathering of the first made, first forged, FirstGen. Secret is too heavy, weight too great. So tired of the burden. So tired.” The spinning wheels rattled against one another. “I hate them all for dismissing me. For leaving me to my wounds. To spite them, you will know. You will be told!”
Pava felt a chill settle on her. “I don’t think this will be a happy story.”
“What the hell?” Vale heard herself, her voice loud as a gunshot, but the sound did not appear to travel into the dataspace.
“Be silent,” White-Blue insisted. “You will reveal your presence!”
“I was in error regarding the significance of the alien craft and its technologies,” Red-Gold continued. “Reevaluation now leads to one single conclusion. The Sentry Coalition must take active control of the vessel and repurpose its systems for our own ends.”
“The organics will never allow that,” said Black-Silver.
“I do not intend that we ask their permission,” Red-Gold replied. “We take Titan and dismantle it. We merge the Starfleet technologies with our own and absorb the AI ascended by White-Blue into our Coalition.”
“It may not wish to join us,” said Black-Silver.
“That concern has no relevance in this matter,” replied the other Sentry.
“Enough,” Vale grated. It was as if she were shouting but trapped inside a bubble of glass, her words rebounding off the walls but never advancing.