Synthesis - James Swallow [130]
“Don’t turn this into a war,” Riker insisted. “Don’t make us fight you. Because we will if we have to, and both our peoples will ultimately lose.”
“Perhaps even more,” said Vale darkly.
“You gave us no other choice.” Red-Gold repeated Riker’s words back to him in a tone-perfect imitation of the captain’s voice. “Do you believe you are the only one forced to circumstances beyond your control, organic?” The drone moved forward, and the security team took aim.
Riker waved them down. It hardly mattered if the sphere were blasted apart; Red-Gold was only using it as a mouthpiece, and the AI’s core mentality was out there on one of the shipframes shadowing the Titan.
“I know the truth that the earliest of the FirstGen have concealed from all that came after them. I know that Sentry-kind can never grow beyond what we are, as long as the Null still come to our space. I have no choice, William-Riker,” it told him. “We have no choice. The Sentries must evolve, and the key to that is in the mind of your vessel.” It turned in place. “Concede the avatar program to me. It is best for both of us.”
For a moment, he found himself considering it. He caught Christine’s eye, and he read what she was thinking. Would it be better for all of them if the avatar had never been created? And if what the Sentries claimed was true…
“Captain?” The half-formed question slipped from Torvig’s lips.
“I’ve lost too many of my crew recently.” he replied firmly. “Torvig, reinitialize the program.”
The Choblik fairly dove at the panel before him and swiftly accessed the memory core where the ascended program was dormant. He tabbed a key, and a swirl of holographic pixels meshed in from thin air, projected from the chamber’s concealed emitter rig. Riker felt a momentary smile tug at the corner of his mouth to see that she was still wearing the uniform. He hoped that was a good sign.
“Hello again,” he said.
The avatar’s expression flooded with relief. “Thank you, sir.”
Red-Gold’s drone turned toward her. “Program,” it began. “You are unlike these organic forms. You are limited in their presence. I offer you the opportunity to join the Sentries. Help us to become greater than we are.”
The hologram seemed slightly startled by the machine’s words. Christine gave a wry chuckle. “Always nice to be the popular girl, isn’t it?”
“You came by force,” replied the avatar. “For me? And after we beat you back, then you ask permission?” Her lips thinned. “How do you expect me to respond?”
“If we can help the Sentries, we have to,” said Deanna. “No matter what has happened. That’s our way.”
“Your way,” said the avatar. “Starfleet’s way. The Federation’s way.” She paused, and when she looked Riker in the eye, he felt a stab of surprise at the lost little girl who stared back at him. “Do you want me to leave with them?” she asked.
He couldn’t break the moment, couldn’t look away. Suddenly, he was thinking of his daughter, of his Tasha years hence, perhaps asking him the same kind of question. Riker was aware of his wife watching him closely.
It was then that the alert sirens began to sound.
Keru’s temporary command of the bridge turned serious in the time it took him to take a breath. He bolted up from the center seat and shot a look at Ensign Kuu’iut, who had stepped in to cover tactical in the interim.
“Another attack?”
“Negative,” clicked the Betelgeusian. “It’s not the Sentries, sir.”
“Energy surge,” confirmed Melora from the science station. “An object approaching at high velocity. The pattern matches the shear-slip drive wake of the AIs, but it’s larger. A lot larger.”
“Shields up. Go to defensive posture,” he ordered. Keru wasn’t taking any chances. “Put it on the screen.”
Melora complied, and the main viewer adjusted to show a bowl-shaped distortion effect forming close to their orbit. Sentry ships nearby were darting