Authors: Karl K. Gallagher
“That really drives home how far behind we are from the
Golden Age AIs,” commented Guo.
“It’s not all that complex,” said Yukio. “There’s a
physicist on
Rite of Spring
who’s working on matter converters. He
thinks we’re less than fifty years from a comprehensive theory of direct matter
to energy conversion.”
“That would be a tremendous breakthrough,” said the
mechanic. Much of his work dealt with the failure of converters to live up to
their manufacturers’ promises.
“How reliable is that physicist?” asked Bing.
“His theories have survived replicated experiments. He’s too
young to have any track record as a prophet yet.”
Bing wasn’t comforted. “I mean, how trustworthy is he as a
person. Experimenting with converters puts a lot of destructive power in the
hands of someone who might not be . . . stable.”
“Making people completely stable destroys their creativity,”
said Yukio. “
That
dead end was explored by genetic engineers before the
first terraforming ship was built.”
“That’s not the level of instability that worries me.” Bing
ignored the captain’s warning cough. “Or rather a different kind of
stability—the stable state where your gengineered geniuses start thinking
they’re a different species.”
Yukio delayed answering while she refilled her plate with
more stroganoff. “Our children are still the same species as us. Am I human?”
Whatever answer Bing had was overridden by Billy. “Yes.
You’re perfectly human.”
Schwartzenberger tried a less dangerous topic. “It’s hard
for us to imagine dealing with a superhuman intelligence. We’ve never met one.
What’s it like living with an AI on your ship?”
“Well—
Heart
is a person. She’s like having a smart
relative always available to give advice. As if your grandmother didn’t get
tired, didn’t get cranky, never slept. You could call her whenever you got
stuck.”
“Does the AI ever start conversations with you? Or break
into one you’re having with someone else?” Schwartzenberger felt calling the AI
“it” would be rude, but couldn’t bring himself to use “she” for a computer.
“Just about terraforming operations, and only if there’s a
real need. She has a rule about not meddling unnecessarily.”
“So what kind of advice do you ask for? Solving technical
problems or finding who’d make a good match for the breeding program?” asked
Billy.
“Oh, technical,” replied Yukio. “
Heart
would never
play matchmaker. She has a hard constraint against acting on humans that way.
We think that’s part of what kept the terraforming AIs safe during the
Betrayal.”
The silence after that last word went long. Mitchie finished
buttering a roll and decided it was her turn. “What’s
Heart’s
personality like? Is she different from the other AIs?”
“
Heart
is cheerful, determined, sometimes impatient.
There’s so much waiting you have to do in terraforming that she doesn’t want to
waste any time when we can do something. I’ve heard
Rite of Spring
is
finicky, almost afraid of making mistakes. I’ve never actually met another AI.”
“You haven’t visited any of the other TFS ships?” asked
Mitchie.
“No, terraforming ships don’t rendezvous often. There’s
really no task that takes two of them. The last time
Gaia’s Heart
met
another was when my mother came on board. The breeding program had declared
several families unsuitable for reproduction and part of another ship’s crew
transferred over to expand the gene pool.”
“That’s not very romantic,” said Billy.
Yukio gave him a long look. He met her eyes firmly. “Are you
sexually attracted to me?” she asked.
Mitchie had caught Billy sneaking enough peeks at the
terraformer to consider it a stupid question.
Maybe it’s a cultural thing to
want open confirmation
. The table was silent, all the silverware was still.
Billy went for the direct answer. “Yes. You’re very
beautiful,” with his best smile.
“Come to my quarters two hours after the meal ends,” said
the terraformer. Mitchie surveyed the table. Bing looked worried. Guo tried to
conceal his amusement. The captain . . . seemed to be restraining himself from
kicking Billy’s ankle hard enough to break it.
“So! Who’s ready for a cupcake?” said Bing.
***
Captain Schwartzenberger insisted on a daily inspection of
the cargo to make sure no container had shifted position under acceleration or
maneuver. Bing accompanied him on the second day’s visit to the hold. Normally
Billy would be waiting at the ladder for them to report on any changes he’d
need to make to the strap-downs. Tracking some snores led them to the top of a
container. Apparently he’d finished tightening a strap then laid his head down
on the Cargo Handler’s Manual. “That looks pretty damn uncomfortable,” said the
captain.
“Yep,” replied the first mate. After a long silence she
mentioned, “You made some pretty elaborate threats about what you were going to
do the next time you caught him asleep during duty hours.”
He pondered his reply a bit. “Let’s log him as working the
night shift. He looks like he needs the sleep.”
***
That night’s dinner had Billy seated next to Yukio. He drew
out the story of how she’d broken an arm in a zero-g playground when she was
eight. The rest of the meal was an exchange of childhood injuries and other
hijinks. Guo won with three bones broken while exploring a played-out mine. The
captain began to hope they’d survive the trip without infuriating their
employer after all.
***
An hour after dinner Guo passed the galley and saw Mitchie
working on dishes. “Isn’t it Billy’s turn for clean-up?”
She chuckled. “We traded. Apparently the terraformer is
fascinated by our low tech hydroponics set-up so he’s doing all the maintenance
for now. Not what I’d pick for a date but if it works for him, great.”
He picked up a towel and started drying one of the pots in
the rack. “Better him than me.”
“What, you don’t think she’s pretty?”
“No, she’s pretty, their gengineers are keeping her in spec.
It’s more . . . remember that show when we were kids,
Eddore’s Quest
?”
“Half-elf boy kicked out of his human home for being
strange, elves won’t let him in because he’s not good enough, so he saves the
world to impress them both?”
“Right. My problem with it was the elves looked so strange I
couldn’t imagine anyone getting intimate enough with one to have a kid.
Terraformers are that strange too.”
“Oh, god, I’m working with an elf-hater.” Mitchie chuckled. “How
do you feel about dwarves?”
Guo smiled down at her. “They’re growing on me.”
She started scrubbing some gunk off a frying pan. “How do
you like your fancy new converter?”
“Happy with it so far. It’s a direct copy of a Golden Age
design. It’s giving cleaner waste products, more stable isotopes. Haven’t
gotten to see how it performs at max output yet.”
“Yeah. Let’s hope we can get through this job without
redlining the thing.”
“That’s a prayer.”
***
The bang was too drawn out to be a gunshot. The scream could
have been Billy or Guo, neither had come to lunch. Mitchie leapt up from the
table and dashed to the cargo hold hatch. Halfway down the ladder the voice was
clearly Billy cursing a streak. She slowed, not wanting to break an ankle at
the bottom. The captain and mate followed her without excitement.
“Since we’ve got everyone here, I want it on the record. I
told you so.” Guo didn’t let his statement interfere with applying quick-heal
cream to Billy’s hand.
“Told him what?” asked Bing.
Billy answered, “I thought I could bypass the network module
in my rifle. Instead it blew up.” The rifle lay on the deck, its wood veneer
burnt off and the scope cracked. A full face visor was next to it, charred in
several spots.
“I told you it had to have anti-tamper circuits,” said Guo.
“How’s his hand?”
“Just surface burns. This stuff’ll have him back to work
tomorrow.” Guo wrapped a thick bandage over the cream. Billy lifted his other
hand. Guo slapped it. “Don’t scratch. Leave it alone until the new skin’s
grown.”
“Crap. It’s junk now, isn’t it?” mourned Billy.
“Oh, the hardware’s good,” said the mechanic. “I could rig a
mechanical link easily enough for the trigger. Put some iron sights on. You’d
burn through all your ammo calibrating them though.”
“Don’t be working on that until everything else is done,”
said the captain. “And Billy, those first aid supplies are coming out of your
pay. Everybody else get back to work.” They dispersed. “Not you, Billy. You’re confined
to quarters until that’s healed. And don’t scratch.”
***
Mitchie cut the thrust to zero an hour out from the gate.
Fives
Full
was exactly on track, or at least as exact as her instruments could
measure. The first off-normal approach Yukio proposed had far too narrow a
corridor for an analog ship to stay in. Searching through the matrix found one
that had a degree and a half of safety margin on all sides, if they kept their
speed fixed. That was easier to calculate against the warning buoys around the
gate than their precise approach angle.
Checks every five minutes showed they were coming in a
little slow. Some puffs on the maneuvering thrusters brought them to optimum
speed. For the last thirty minutes the ship just coasted. The captain and Mitchie
alternated rechecking their vector against the buoys and taking positions from
star and planet sightings. Yukio sat at the communications console and
occasionally muttered comments about the dark ages.
The terraformer did have to do some work on the approach.
Schwartzenberger tasked her with explaining to the Navy patrol squadron that,
yes, they really did have a good reason to be out there and didn’t need a
rescue and tow from their accidental dangerous course. Eventually their chain
of command checked with the Liaison Office and they shut up.
The gate was almost visible as they approached. The loop of
cosmic string blurred stars as it occulted them. Mitchie could trace the
outline of the circle by the flickering. Once she had a feel for it she could
pick a star on the outside and take a sighting on it as it passed behind the
gate. A few readings verified that they were at the proper angle relative to
the gate. Not that there was much chance of the buoys being misaligned at this
gate but it was a good habit. Captain Schwartzenberger liked to encourage
paranoid habits.
As always she kept her eyes open as they passed through. She’d
never seen anything dramatic, just the flicker of the buoys vanishing and a new
sun appearing in front of them. They were almost a billion kilometers out from
it. Savannah was on the far side. She sighted on the innermost gas giant to
verify they were close to where Yukio had promised and started them toward it
at ten gravs.
Savannah System. Acceleration 0 m/s
2
Yukio was pretty scarce during the transit. She did show up
for the approach to Savannah holding a head-sized box. “Oh, this is the
password for the defenses.” The captain raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply. She’d
been evasive when asked about the planet’s security before.
“On course to land at your base’s coordinates,” said
Mitchie. “We can aerobrake down to the landing point. Won’t need to fire
anything until we need the turbines for landing.”
“Good,” said the captain. “Wait until 300 klicks to flip us
for entry. I’m enjoying the view.”
“Aye-aye.” Mitchie pivoted the ship to put the planet
directly above. Savannah was a lovely example of the terraformer’s art. Smaller
ice caps than most worlds, but Mitchie had gotten enough ice at home. Patches
of green showed where the biosphere expanded out from the initial plantings.
She started a timer to warn her when she’d have to swing the ship around for
reentry.
The pilot rotated through her instruments, pausing on the
radar screen. “Sir, I’m picking up a number of objects orbiting the planet.
Can’t get a good fix on them.”
“Oh, that’s the defense satellites,” said Yukio. “Don’t
worry about them.”
“I’m trying to make sure I don’t run into one. Hard to do
when they fuzz their radar returns.”
“Once we’ve passed the security check they’ll maneuver clear
of us.” Neither spacer was reassured by Yukio’s statement. They covered their
eyes as a bright green light illuminated the cockpit. When it faded Mitchie
noticed the box emitting a series of multi-colored flashes. “There’s the first
one,” chirped the terraformer. “Only two more.”
“Can you warn us?” demanded the pilot.
“Sorry, the satellites pick the challenge time
stochastically, it’s part of the password system.” The other two covered their
eyes again. The next two flashes were closer together. “Done now. We’re clear
to land.”
Mitchie ran a radar sweep on their path. The one she’d been
worried about had maneuvered clear of them. Even more satellites were detectable
now as the ship came close enough to see through their stealthing. Apparently
the Terraforming Service was serious about no person or AI messing with their
private project world. “Okay. Permission to take us down, sir?”
“Granted,” said the captain.
Mitchie activated the intercom. “All hands, rotating for
re-entry. Brace for rotation and aerobraking. We’ll be on the ground in . . .
thirty-five minutes.”
Planet Savannah. Gravity 9.6 m/s
2
The research base was a twenty meter dome standing in an
utterly flat stretch of grassland. Mitchie placed
Fives Full
due west of
it, on a previous ship’s landing marks. Yukio radioed it again. “Savannah
Research, this is Yukio, I’m here with the kitty chow.” Again, no response. She
looked at the dome from the bridge windows. “A couple of the floaters are out.
I guess they’re running a survey.” She kept staring out with a puzzled
expression.