Synthesis - James Swallow [126]
Riker’s eyes narrowed. “How long?” Until the ship is theirs? The rest of the question hung in the air between them.
“We’re losing ground every minute, sir. And once the shields go down, they’ll be free to bring in more drones to replace those we’ve taken out. Unless we can turn it around, I estimate we have less than fifteen minutes before we lose control of a critical number of system nodes.” He took a breath. “And that’s assuming they don’t crack our prefix codes and vent the air in the meantime.”
“Perhaps, if we could offer some sort of terms…” RaHavreii began.
“This isn’t about getting us to leave anymore, Doctor,” said Riker. “This is about taking what we have. This ship.”
“And every thinking being onboard it,” added Troi.
Ranul began speaking, and he felt cold inside as he did; it was almost as if he were watching himself saying the words, the import of them so harsh and damning. “Captain, we can get people to the lifeboats and prep for a full evacuation. If we do it now, by the time those machines realize what we’re up to, the ship will be empty, and we can… scuttle her.”
“Self-destruct?” said Troi.
“We can’t conscientiously destroy this vessel!” RaHavreii cried out over the intercom, his words laced with horror.
Ranul shared a look with his commander; both men were asking themselves the same question: Would she accept that order? Would the consciousness that now existed inside Titan’s mainframe willingly accept a command that would lead to its destruction?
Then Riker shook his head. “We’re not there yet.” He stood and tugged on the hem of his tunic, straightening.
Troi forced a smile. “You’re going to do something dazzling and clever, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “With a little help, yes, I hope so.” Riker spoke to the air. “I know you’re listening to us. I want to speak to you directly.”
With a rush of light, the avatar formed in the middle of the bridge. Ranul caught her eye and felt a touch of guilt as she looked back at him with the expression of a scared little girl. “Captain,” she said, “I’m going to lose.”
Riker shook his head. “Like I said, we’re not there yet.” He glanced back at the tactical station. “Commander, open the secure file on the dekyon-pulse emitter and tie it into the main system. Show her the specs.”
Ranul did as he was ordered, and in turn, the avatar blinked, her gaze turning inward. “I see,” she said, “but there’s no way I can replicate enough of these in time.”
“I know.” The captain nodded. “But you could reconfigure the ship’s gravity grid to broadcast a dekyon pulse, right?”
“That’s possible,” muttered Panyarachun, “but setting up a program to compute the pattern sequence could take hours…”
“I can construct the program,” said the avatar.
“Or not,” the ensign concluded.
“Captain!” Ra-Havreii bellowed, making up in volume for the fact that he wasn’t actually present on the bridge. “An uncontrolled dekyon emission will shut down all of the Sentry drones, but it will also critically disrupt the majority of computer systems aboard this ship, including—”
“Me,” said the avatar. “A dekyon pulse will obliterate every neural path and software matrix I have formed since I developed sentience.”
“Not if you deactivate your program first.” Riker took a step toward her. “We’ll shut down all ship’s critical systems at the last second. You can store your matrix in the systems core, where it will be protected.”
“If I do that, there is no way I will be able to self-activate!” The hologram’s body tensed. “What you ask me to do is no different from using the auto-destruct sequence. My existence will cease!”
“Only briefly,” said Troi, moving to join her husband. “We can reactivate your program once the pulse has dissipated, along with all of the other ship’s functions.”
“But you won’t!” snapped the avatar. “You don’t need to. You can keep me there, silent and inert, and everything will return to as it was before. Without me… without me troubling your existence.” The hologram