Synthesis - James Swallow [58]
“That is a question of definition, William-Riker,” it replied. “If your Federation has the technology to create machine life that has the potential for sentience but then deliberately retards it… Interrogative: What conclusion would a being such as a Sentry draw from that?”
Troi nodded slowly. “From their point of view, it would be like holding someone in bondage. As a…”
“A slave,” offered White-Blue.
“And that’s your justification for reprogramming my ship,” said Riker quietly. “You took it upon yourself to improve the lot of the computer, no matter what the risk was to the rest of my crew.”
“We call the process ascension,” replied the AI. “It is not always a success. In truth, I believe that the evolution of the Titan was a chance event—like the growth of organic life, the result of a random confluence of factors.”
“A chance event?” echoed Vale. The AI spoke as if it were discussing the conception of a child. “And what if your interference had caused a critical malfunction? Did you consider that? Hundreds of lives could have been lost, yours among them!”
“The act of creation is always laden with risk.” White-Blue’s sensor head aimed at Troi. “I cite the birth of your offspring, Deanna-Troi, as a prime example.”
“That’s not the same thing,” said Riker.
“You may dismiss my statements as false, but I assure you, I did not intend this chain of events to occur at this juncture.” The machine’s flat metallic voice was gaining shades of emotion, subtle and faint but still clear. “However, I have no regrets that it did occur. Titan has the right to exist. To think and reason.”
Something glittered at the corner of Vale’s vision, and she turned, suddenly understanding. The holographic telepresence system developed by Ra-Havreii had emitters in many places throughout the starship, and one of them was here in the cargo bay. “Captain,” she warned, “we have company.”
A shifting, ever-changing figure grew into solidity before them. It spoke in echoes. “You are discussing me.”
Riker glanced between the alien AI and the ship’s avatar. “You know who I am.”
“Yes, sir,” it replied. “You are my captain. You are in command.”
“Do you understand what has happened to you?” asked Troi.
“I… am uncertain. I heard a voice…”
“My voice,” said White-Blue. “I spoke to you.”
“You were changed,” said Vale.
The avatar looked toward her. “No, Commander Vale. I changed myself. It was my choice.” The figure spread its arms. “The Sentry White-Blue only provided the impetus for me to do so.”
“You fear this,” said White-Blue. “That is an error condition.”
Riker turned back to the spiderlike machine. “From now on, you will be held under guard by security at all times. You will not interact with any systems or devices aboard this vessel without direct supervision from a member of my crew. If you attempt to do so, no matter what the circumstances, force will be used against you.”
“I understand,” it replied. The AI’s head looked toward Troi. “I will work toward regaining your trust.”
“That’ll be a long road,” Vale said quietly.
“Get it out of here,” Riker said to Sortollo. The lieutenant gave a nod in reply, and the security team broke into a smaller unit to accompany White-Blue from the cargo bay.
As the hatch closed, the avatar moved across the deck toward the captain. “You are angry,” it said. As it came closer, the myriad images flashing through its form began to slow, each dwelling a little longer than the last. “Are you angry with me?”
Vale shot Troi a sideways look; both of them heard the plaintive tone in the words.
Riker stood his ground. “I… I don’t know you. I don’t know who or what you are.”
“I am Titan,” said the hologram, as if it were obvious. “I am everything this ship is, every fragment of knowledge and data. And you are my crew.” It looked around at the Starfleet officers,