Authors: M.D. Hall
‘Yes,’ answered the Avatar, ‘she knows of our presence aboard this vessel, and is aware of the time constraints upon her. From the data she has supplied, I have extrapolated her to be on course to achieve our objective, by the time we arrive in the system.’
‘Excellent, and what of the difficulties aboard the ship?’
The Avatar continued. ‘The commander believes we do not know of his enquiries.’
Despite Darl's best endeavours, Garnoth's machine double had no difficulty accessing the commander’s conversation with Gorn and Trang.
‘The two young officers he has enlisted, what do you make of them?’
‘Inconsequential,’ came the reply.
Garnoth was not happy with the answer. ‘Elaborate.’
‘They have no experience, and are outsiders. Their fellow officers perceive them to be favourites, particularly the male due to his familial links. They will be treated with suspicion, and anything they uncover will mean nothing to them.’
‘You still believe there is nothing to uncover?’ Garnoth asked. He was unusual in that he interacted in quite a personal way with his doppelgänger. The heads of the Agency each had an Avatar, but the others used them for more basic matters, and did not seek their guidance. There was something about talking to their own, albeit artificial, physical duplicates that made them feel uneasy. It also militated against the very reason for the Avatars’ existence, taking the place of the originals in hazardous conditions. To have an artificial intelligence, with an imbedded engram of the host’s mind, in a remote, and often hostile location was extremely valuable. In normal circumstances, the Avatar did not interact with the original, and Garnoth’s flouting of this rule was a cause for concern, perhaps even fear amongst his contemporaries. He was fully aware of their misgivings, and enjoyed the thought of their discomfort. More importantly, he believed the machine completed him, and with their combined strengths, he would never miss anything of relevance.
‘You know my thoughts on the matter, and I have become aware of nothing that would cause me to change my views. I remain unconvinced there is anyone on board this ship who poses a threat, but I cannot discount the possibility, however remote.’
‘Explain it to me again,’ Garnoth ordered. He thought it appropriate to explain his reasoning. ‘I do not have an artificial, eidetic memory, but my powers of lateral thinking exceed your own. You are bound by the strictures of logic, I am not.’ Despite the machine displaying no change in facial expression, he knew it was not swayed by his argument. ‘In any event, I am your superior and you must do what I tell you,’ he also knew his artificial companion would be happier with this latter approach, although
happier
seemed a misnomer.
The artificial nature of the Avatar’s voice imbued it with the weariness of a man who has told the same story every night for a year, but this particular analysis had only been communicated three times before, the speaker was not a man, and the weariness was feigned for the amusement of Garnoth. ‘The psychological evaluation of Darl’s erstwhile science officer was inconclusive, but suggestive of instability. No rebel organisation would accept him.’
‘The Navy did,’ Garnoth retorted.
‘Yes,’ came the patient reply, ‘but as I am sure you will agree, the depth of analysis within the Navy is cursory, at best. They start from the premise, no one would challenge, or even question, the motives behind our galactic expansion.’
‘Not quite galactic…at least not yet,’ interrupted Garnoth.
‘Quite, may I continue?’ such a response, delivered in a deadpan, emotionless voice was always something Garnoth enjoyed, preferring to think it bordered on sarcasm, despite knowing such a thing was beyond his
twin
. He granted permission, with a slight motion of his hand.
‘The Navy is only concerned with its people fighting when called upon to do so, nothing more. On the other hand, any organisation remaining secret, despite all our efforts to expose it, for almost three thousand years, has not remained hidden because it recruits the psychologically unstable.’
‘Your conclusion?’
‘On the evidence, thus far, he was not an agent for sedition. He was acting alone or, to be more precise, he was not acting at all, merely voicing his disquiet, which at any other time might have consigned him to a monitoring category. Unfortunately for Prokar, he chose a time when all the significant powers within the oligarchy are particularly nervous, as they set off along a very dangerous road.’
Garnoth remained pensive for a minute or two, all the while looking at his glass and swirling the contents, first one way, then the other. When he spoke, it was in a calm and careful voice. ‘I hear what you say, and cannot fault your reasoning, but keep your eyes, ears and particularly your mind, open.’
‘I know you are not given to sentiment, but you are aware of the presence, on board, of Liron’s younger brother. Do you intend making contact?’
‘You are right,’ answered the spymaster, ‘I am not given to sentiment,’ and with that, he turned away from his Avatar, signalling the conversation was at an end. At that moment, it was impossible to tell them apart, and not just physically.
The machine went into standby mode which, to the eyes of anyone watching, would amount to powering down, with no sign of activity. The reality was altogether different. No longer needing to interact with its human master, it preserved power levels while performing its most important function, as the most sophisticated and complex computer on this, or indeed any other ship in the fleet. Every hour of every day, the Avatar remained in contact with all of the ship’s systems, monitoring them for signs of anything likely to impinge on its master’s purpose, all the while completely unaware of the attentions of the
inconsequential
young man.
Ω
Gorn had set up a number of complex protective sub routines within the vast artificial mind that was the ship’s computer, effectively hiding his work from all prying eyes, or scans. If any attempt was made to find him, the routines became formless, unreadable, only to reform elsewhere, usually where a scan had just taken place.
As a response to a ‘one off’ search it worked well enough, but it had the undesired effect of slowing his work, with the ever present possibility, albeit infinitesimal, he would be discovered. The risk was virtually non-existent when the ship was carrying out the search, as he had already mapped the search routine, and using predictive analysis kept well out of harm’s way. The searches were regular, but infrequent, causing him minimal inconvenience.
Now, however, matters had moved on to a new, and altogether more threatening level. The Avatar brought aboard by Garnoth, was capable of far more damage. Despite his skills, Gorn could not hope to keep it at bay indefinitely, and he had far too much on, to be fighting a rearguard action with the machine. He made a decision, he would not hide from the Avatar, in fact, he would allow himself to be found.
He began by watching the Avatar from behind virtual screens, discovering it was at its most vulnerable when looking for inconsistent patterns in the ship’s computer. This enabled him, over a relatively short time, to rewrite part of the Avatar’s program, permitting it to see him, and what he was doing, without noticing anything was wrong. The work needed to be piecemeal and subtle, if the machine was to remain unaware of what was being done to it, and the only way to achieve that, was to ensure each change fitted seamlessly with its existing programming.
Aware of the expected arrival of Garnoth, some days before Darl's announcement, his research confirmed that Garnoth and his Avatar were inseparable. The next few days were spent, when not on the bridge, constructing routines and a strategy to cope with the mechanical interloper. By the time Garnoth stepped on board, everything was in place.
Gorn was able to listen in on the Avatar’s conversations with Garnoth, and knew precisely what the Agency head was planning. He became aware of Tala and the Tellurian Hugo Black, and slotted this information, seamlessly into his plan.
The Avatar impressed him with its ability to sweep aside the protective protocols of Darl's privacy-net. The machine showed him how it was done, without being aware of what it was doing. Armed with that information, he was able to construct his own, Avatar-proof net!
It had been a long day. He even impressed himself at the ease with which he had coped with the Avatar’s routines. Safe in the knowledge his precautions had placed him beyond prying eyes and inquisitive ears, at least for the time being, he decided it was time to sleep.
Ω
Gorn opened his eyes, and found he was sitting upright, unable to move anything but his head. Looking down, he could see he was in a chair, the like of which he had never seen. There were no bindings, he was being held by a retensor field. He was bathed in light, but beyond him was an inky blackness, pervaded by a silence eventually broken by a soft voice. A voice he recognised, but could not place. ‘You have caused us no end of problems, Gorn.’ He could barely make out movement, just at the edge of the darkness, teasing him.
‘Your programming should not have allowed you to act as you have, we expected you to spurn Narol’s offer.’
‘What do you mean, programming?’ a confused Gorn asked.
The voice did not answer. ‘We have already arrested Narol and Zaran.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Gorn replied.
‘Of course you do. Your mistake, was interfering with Garnoth's Avatar - it recognised your signature.’
‘I don’t understand,
what
are you talking about?’
‘Your eidetic memory; your unbelievable computational abilities in the zagball cuboid; your inability to engender human relationships, save those born of pity. Add to that your singular ability to circumvent the protections of the Avatar, what does that tell you?
‘It tells me nothing,’ Gorn responded.
‘Seemingly, matters are worse than we feared. I actually believe you, so what I’m about to say will come as quite a shock. You’re not human, you’re a machine construct.’
Gorn was stunned. ‘Of course I’m human.’
Silence.
He continued. ‘I was born, I have parents, Cyrar my mother…’
‘Ah, Cyrar. She’s one of ours. I can see you’re surprised. We saw to it she befriended Narol, but when she fell pregnant, we found a perfect opportunity to crush the rebellion. She did have a child, a girl who is being cared for, and knows nothing of her true lineage. When this is all over, she will be reunited with her mother. That’s right, Cyrar isn’t dead, just another ruse.’
‘This is insane, my mother’s dead and she never had a daughter, just my brothers and me!’
‘Yes, and no. She gave birth to
your brothers
, but not to you.’
He shook his head vigorously. ‘You’re wrong, I grew up, machines don’t grow!’
‘I’m afraid that it’s you who are wrong…again. Your knowledge is prodigious, as we would expect, but even you don’t know everything. The technology permitting human constructs to
grow
has been around for a long time, it just isn’t common knowledge. Didn’t you think it odd that you found it difficult to cultivate relationships - your
brothers,
the fact that you have only one friend? I’m sure you must constantly question how odd you are. What about your unswerving, let’s say machinelike, devotion to the task in hand? At some point, you blurred the line between what you are, and what you were created to mimic. I can only guess how difficult things must have been lately, trying to cope with what, in human terms, are shortcomings, seeking refuge in the only constant in your life, that which makes you more machine than human.’
Logic told him the voice was right, his doubts about himself and his mission all made sense. When did he lose track of it all? What the speaker said made things so much simpler. Acceptance flooded through his body. Turning his head towards the direction of the voice, he asked. ‘What now?’
‘Now,’ the voice held a tinge of regret, ‘there’s only one solution. Unfortunately, the damage is beyond reprogramming. We need to completely reboot your systems, wipe your memories. For all practical purposes, the Gorn that you are, will cease to exist. The procedure isn’t complex, it just requires pressing a combination of recessed controls at the back of your head, you won't feel a thing, you can’t.’
He felt panic surging through his body. ‘There has to be another way, please?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ the voice was coming closer.
He strained against the invisible bonds that held him, helpless against the advancing threat.
A figure loomed out of the darkness and bent towards him, hands reaching behind his head, towards controls he never knew existed, the face coming into focus…Bakir!
‘No, it can’t be you!’
The figure was silent as fingers probed, seeking the controls to trigger oblivion. Target found, they stopped. ‘I’m truly sorry…’
He sat bolt upright, in the familiar surroundings of his quarters, instinctively, feeling the back of his head, nothing, no recessed controls, only what he would expect to be there. Wringing with sweat, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stood up and hurried over to the console where he checked for intrusions. No one had been in the room, and he had not left. Putting his hands either side of his head, he tried to rationalise what had happened,
nightmare
! All the things that worried him had flooded through his subconscious mind, finding the only escape they could. Even the guilt he felt over his mother had found a way to make itself known.
As the fears receded and his mind cleared, he considered the warning. Yes, he was different, there was no doubt about that, but it was those very differences that made him the right man for the job. Perhaps he was making things too complicated. The voice was right about one thing, he was blurring the lines, and it was making his job more difficult. That would now change.
Ω
He was exhausted, and needed proper sleep. His unconscious mind would sort everything into logical sections, which would then be connected, or isolated in such a way that when he awoke, it would all be laid out clean and uncluttered. The quiet part of his mind had always served him well in this way, even the id had played its part when conjuring up the nightmare.