The Red King - Michael A. Martin [67]
“Actually, what you said a moment ago was only half right, sir,” Crandall said, as he confirmed his final connections with his engineering tricorder. Riker saw his face flush with color as he apparently realized how insolent he had sounded.
“Easy, Ensign,” Riker said. “I’ve never claimed to know everything. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
Crandall sputtered and hawed for a moment, studiously avoiding looking at Riker as he resumed his work. “Yes, sir. What I meant was just that the rokhelh software we’re installing now will replace the resident rokhelh software that our Red King apparently corrupted, then resume that program’s task of talking to the network. And Chaka’s new algorithm will let the new rokhelh know precisely what we expect it to do.”
“Let’s just hope the rokhelh will see its way clear to following the new instructions we’re feeding it,” Jaza said. “From my previous experiences with artificial intelligences, they’re sometimes a rather independent lot.”
Riker couldn’t help but think of those few occasions when Data had malfunctioned, had been technologically manipulated, or had been impersonated by his predecessor, Lore; he couldn’t help but sympathize with Jaza’s apprehension.
As Crandall and Daehla began uploading software into the control panels of their respective interface units, Riker turned toward Donatra, who displayed a disapproving scowl.
“You seem to know a great deal about Romulan technology,” she said in a mildly accusing tone. “Hardware and software both.”
Riker nodded. “And it appears to be coming in handy just now.”
“Agreed. But how did you acquire this knowledge?”
He offered her what he assumed she would see as a slightly guilty-looking smile. “About seven years ago, the Enterprise’s second officer came into extremely close contact with one of your empire’s AI security programs.”
A look of understanding crossed Donatra’s face. “Ah. The late android, Data. He must have uploaded a good deal of rokhelh program code during that encounter.”
“A pretty fair portion, as it turned out,” Riker said. “Enough to enable one of Titan’s computer specialists to reverse-engineer most of the rest.”
“Since our arrival here in Neyel space?” Donatra said. “I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be too impressed,” Deanna said. “It isn’t as though Crewman Chaka whipped up this entire program today. Fortunately for us, she’s been studying the Enterprise’s rokhelh encounter as a sort of ‘pet project’ ever since she first entered Starfleet.”
Riker turned to his wife and grinned. “Looks like we may have lucked out this time.”
No sooner had he uttered those words than he found himself wishing, absurdly, for a stout piece of wood to knock on.
U.S.S. TITAN
Mekrikuk was startled out of a deep slumber. Suddenly aware, once again, of his surroundings—Titan’s sickbay, where he had remained confined ever since his rescue from the Vikr’l Prison on Romulus—the sensation that had awakened him persisted.
Something had reached out for him, had touched his mind. At first, he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Then he closed his eyes. And the image came to him, very clearly.
Ships. Dozens of Romulan warbirds, as “seen” by one another’s external sensors, he supposed. All of them being driven by a single, unified intellect. An intellect whose thoughts were somehow obscured and jumbled, as though by a thick blanket of sleep.
That mind was now lashing out in extreme distress. Curiosity warred with caution, and won a narrow victory. Very carefully, Mekrikuk opened his mind, hoping to learn more about this unknown thoughtforce.
Then he screamed.
IMPERIAL WARBIRD RA’KHOI
“There,” Daehla said as she turned away from the console to address Donatra. “I’ve confirmed that both the rokhelh and its guidance program have been uploaded into the system. Both are actively engaging the alien programming that