Synthesis - James Swallow [97]
She nodded and tugged self-consciously on her g-suit, walking woodenly toward a control console in the wall of the observation pulpit. “You recognize this stellar neighborhood as your own?” Pazlar pointed up at the stars arranged about them.
“Affirmative,” said the machine. “Vectors Prime through Spinward. The core of our exploratory zones through to the perimeter edges marked by the nebula remnants and dust clouds.”
A glowing yellow cord crossed the holographic space, entering the outer sectors of Sentry space. “This is the course of the Titan,” said Riker.
“You have traveled a great distance,” remarked the AI. “Our guardianship and exploration extends only to the edges of the sphere mandated by the Governance Kernel.”
Troi picked up on the note of wonder in the machine’s synthetic voice. “Would you like to explore further, if you could?”
“Affirmative,” it replied. “But other requirements are more pressing. Our duty.”
“The war with the Null,” said Riker.
White-Blue shifted on its metallic legs. “It is not warfare as you would define it, William-Riker. To employ a biological metaphor, the containment and eradication of incursion events more closely resemble the action of antibodies against a contaminating agent.”
“Is that how you see yourselves?” said Troi. “Sentries, standing against a tide of invasion?”
“Infection, not invasion,” it corrected.
Riker folded his arms over his chest. “Whatever name you want to give it, White-Blue, your conflict involves us now. Red-Gold and the others may not be willing to explain the scope of what’s going on here, but I believe you are. I want you to be open with us. The time for secrets has passed.”
The droneframe’s head tilted. “It is not for others to become involved—”
“We became involved the moment we found your vessel,” Pazlar broke in. Above her head, the gold line paused as a location marker formed around it, showing the point where White-Blue’s shipframe had been devastated. Other indicators, thin clouds of sapphire light, faded in. These were the zones of spatial distortion that the Titan’s sensors had first detected. “These areas of disruption reach out beyond the perimeter of Sentry space,” continued the Elaysian. “I think you’re well aware of that. And if they are connected to the Null, if they’re some kind of precursor to an incursion, then that means the incidence of those things is far more widespread than just your star system.”
“Other worlds may be at stake,” said Troi.
“There are no sentients for light-years in any direction,” retorted White-Blue.
“That you’re aware of,” Riker replied. The captain advanced on the machine. “Why are the Sentries so reluctant to speak about the Null? You’ve seen our technology. We can help you.” He halted in front of the droneframe, looking into its glassy eye lenses. “There is no logic in shutting us out. You know that as well as I do.”
“The incursions…” White-Blue was hesitant. “They have been our responsibility for trillions of clock cycles, centuries by your estimation.” The AI threw a brief glance at Dennisar. “The fight to suppress them is encoded in our very culture. It is part of us and not a duty we can ever deny.” It paused. “You understand duty very well, William-Riker. Your record shows that clearly.”
“Then explain it to me,” said the captain.
White-Blue studied the human for a moment. “My disclosure of this information to an organic life-form will result in grave censure from the Governance Kernel. When I next share data with my kind, what I have done will become known to them.” The machine rocked gently on its piston legs, almost as if it were releasing a silent sigh. “But I will address that problem when it occurs. Ask your questions. I will answer. It is, as you stated, the logical choice.”
“The Null… what are their origin and nature? What do they want?”
“You misunderstand,” said the AI. “The Null is not many life-forms. It is a single entity, a great mass beyond the scope of our measurement. Even as it exists in discrete subsets in our