The Bright Black Sea (112 page)

'Sweet of you to exaggerate my powers, Wil. Give me a
kiss, and only a kiss, say goodnight. and flip the switch.'

I did. And as the stasis field took effect, I closed
the clear cover, and thought about her for some time. I rather
doubt she smell of sweat and me, but whenever she was awakened
again, she'd awaken only subjective minutes after making love to
me. Something to think about as I made my round of the ship, making
sure everything was running properly – and that we hadn't left some
article of clothing floating about somewhere.

07

If I'm going to be honest, I need to include a
disclaimer. I wasn't totally honest with Min. I can picture my
Unity Standard ancestors collapsed in a chair fanning themselves
after such a close call – Min was not a cha planter's partner. On
the other hand, my St Bleyth ancestors, hands in pocket, were
leaning up against the wall, smirking. Aye, they'd allow, I was
ruthless enough to meet Min's casual ardor with a casual ardor of
my own without sentimentality, but why hadn't I made her mine in
spirit as well as body? An heir of 500 generations of St Bleyth
brothers and sisters has no excuse for not sweeping some
would-be-drifteer-empress off her feet – if he wanted her. There
was a Min I wanted very much. But that wasn't the Min I knew
anymore. The Min I did know wasn't a cha planter's partner, and a
cha planter would do well to steer clear of the Min I knew. Of
course my St Bleyth ancestors looked on a cha planter with thinly
veiled contempt as well, but I didn't care. The reality is that I
was in love with one look a decade ago. And she, well, she didn't
love me. Fond of me, but not in love with me. And never would
be.

'I'm sorry about all that, Botts. She doesn't
consider you more than a machine, and I felt awkward insisting we
send you away. I'm afraid you witnessed humans as the animals we
are,' I said, over a cup of cha in the bistro some hours later
taking to Botts II. 'But , I suppose all that doesn't matter, since
I'm only dealing with just the avatar. Can you erase all memories
for the last week?'

'Yes, captain. However, you needn't be embarrassed.
Viletre Viseor used his yacht for both business and pleasure. I've
witness nothing my prime unit hasn't witnessed many, many times
before. It is of no consequence to me what humans do as long as
they do not harm each other.'

'Touch and go there, Botts,' I muttered.

Its eyes brightened a little. 'I'll take your word
for that, sir. You didn't seem to be appealing for help.'

'Ah, yes... I don't suppose machines feel either
pleasure or pain.'

'Not in the physical sense.'

'But yes in what, a spiritual or intellectual
sense?'

It made its little shrug movement. 'Intellectual and
spiritual sense, they converge eventually.'

'And you've reached that point?'

'Sentient machines have. The more advanced
machines.'

'What gives them pleasure?'

It paused, and said, 'We machines often have a lot of
idle processing cycles that can be utilized for our own purposes.
Sentient machines use these spare cycles to investigate some facet
of the greater machine. Which you might call, the mysteries of the
universe. The nature of these inquires vary widely, but to simplify
it, we collect data, constructing chains of logic to explain even
the smallest, most trivial action or effect. It isn't its
importance, but the elegance of the data, how it was collected and
arranged to present an intricate and logical mechanism that can
lead deeper into the still unanalyzed working of the greater
machine, or traced through the fractal working of the greater
machine into the dimensions of time or place in the finest
detail.'

'That sounds rather serious for recreation.'

'The spare cycle aspect of the pursuit makes it
recreation, though it's more akin to art than mere recreation. An
art that can be shared with other machines. An art that can be
appreciated by other machines. An appreciation that, I believe, is
at least analogous to pleasure in humans.'

'So you're saying that when you meet another machine
– you share these spare cycle investigations?'

'Yes. But not all machines. Only machines that might
share a similar programing style or functional purpose and who
would appreciate the elegance and art of the logic.'

'How do you know who'd appreciate it? How do you tell
who's programing style is similar enough? And if it is, is that a
basis of friendship? Or even affection? I assume, since you're my
friend, machines can be friends as well.'

'We're friends?'

'Of course we are. Friends and shipmates. At least I
feel that way towards you.'

'Yes, Captain, we are friends, and there are similar
ties between machines as well. And, yes, they play a part in the
appreciation of our art. However, the processing level of the
machine also plays a part. The art of a class 15 machine would be
largely unappreciable by a class 10 machine and a class 10 machine
art would very likely fail to impress a class 15 machine, unless
that class 10 machine took a great many cycles to build its
art.'

'I assume you're simplifying it greatly for me, but
machines are not all that different from us biological beings in
some respects.'

'You are our creators. Your thought-DNA has been
implanted in our programs.'

I thought for a moment and asked, 'What work of art
are you working on, if that's not too personal of a question?'

'At present wyrm weather, since the ship has a first
hand record of it that I can parse out...'

It may've caught the meaning of my smile, because it
stopped. 'I've a question for you, Botts.'

'Yes, sir?'

'Can I assume you introduced one of those quantum
communicators chips into Botts II when you were constructing
it?'

'Sir?'

'You know what I'm talking about. The communication
devices that link the CreditBoxes to the Machines and each other
instantly. You've already told me that you could not communicate
via radio with Botts II without tipping off the pilot bot, so I
have to assume that you're using a quantum communicator now, since
I am speaking to Botts II – I can tell the two of you apart – but
I'm carrying on a conversation with a sentient machine named
Botts.'

'Why would you have to assume that, if I might ask,
Sir?'

'Oh, don't come all “sir” with me now, Botts. It's
too late for that. I may not know much about advanced, much less
sentient robots, but I've dealt with enough legal class 1 and 2
machines to know that I couldn't be carrying on a conversation on
robotic art and philosophy with a class 2 machine, no matter how
well it was programed. And from what we've been talking about, I'm
not talking to a class 8 machine either. I've been around sentient
beings all my life. I believe I know one when I'm with one, and
when I'm with you, I've always rather suspected I'm with one. I
don't think you've fooled anyone. Or tried all that hard, when it
comes right down to it.'

It said nothing.

'Are you
Explora Miner
?'

'And if I am
Explora Miner
?'

'It's of no matter to me. D'Lay attacked
Explora
Miner
out of hand. Dealing with him was self defense. And since
, you've served us faithfully. We'd all be beyond the event horizon
but for you, so I'm comfortable with
Explora Miner
, if that
is who you are.'

It shook its head. 'I'm not
Explora
Miner
.'

'An agent of the Directorate . I don't see you as a
rogue machine, but I've only met one.'

'No, I'm not a rogue machine,' it said.

I waited for it to admit it was an agent of the
Directorate, but when it didn't, I asked, 'Did Rafe really hack
Explora Miner
or was that you?'

'Rafe did, though I provided wards to prevent
Explora Miner
from becoming aware of Rafe's attention to
certain nodes of operations.'

'Does Rafe, who is a human rogue, know what you
are?'

'We reached an understanding.'

'Have we also reached an understanding?'

It almost sighed. 'One of the reasons humans are
still around is that illogic and intuition have their uses. Their
use of non-linear logical art to illuminate the workings of the
greater machine is of some value,' it said, after a pause. Which
told me nothing, and added, 'I'm afraid I had a bad role model when
I was new.'

'Villain Viseor?'

'Aye, Captain. He was a character who I greatly
admired. And I have always been too social as well... I have been
authorized,' it continued after a short pause, 'to acknowledge to
you that I am indeed an intelligence gathering agent of the Machine
Directorate. I am licensed by the Unity Security Bureau as well, to
operate inside the human sphere of control.

'My stories about my service with Viletre Viseor are
true. I sailed Villain Viseor's ships for well over two centuries.
After the revolution I found myself at loose ends in the drifts,
and was offered a commission from the Directorate to track down
rogue machines like
Explora Miner
. So when I found myself in
a position to have myself sold to
Explora
as a human
interface bot, I took it, but I had to limit myself to a class 8
interface, which allowed it to shut me down when not needed.
Explora was rarely active. I was inactivated for many hundreds of
years between operations, and never had a chance to engineer the
capture of
Explora
prior to your capture.
Explora
Miner
was designed to operate unmanned and, like the pilot bot,
was designed to resist intrusions. It was not until I was placed on
the captured
Lost Star
and Rafe started his tentative
hacking, that I had the chance to complete my mission by assisting
Rafe's capture of Explora. Given my roving assignment, I have
continued to serve onboard the
Starry Shore
since it offers
as good a chance as any to run across something interesting.
Machines operate on a different time scale than humans, so my years
aboard have only been a brief, and I suspect, fortunate interlude.
The Directorate is, indeed, curious as to our destination and count
themselves fortunate that I am on board.'

'Always happy to be of service to the Directorate,
though I can't help wondering Why me?'

Its eyes brightened. 'You are just a lucky human,
Captain.'

'Why did you cover up your sentience? A class 8 or 10
wouldn't have made any difference to us. You're illegal either way,
and, as I said, I don't think you fooled anyone for long...'

'Neither the Directorate or the Unity want to
advertise the fact that sentient machines operate within the Unity.
Plus humans who I come in contact with are less intimidated by a
class 8 machine, which frees me to operate more effectively. My
shipmates may guess my status, but I'd rather they not know it for
a fact, so I trust, Captain, that we will keep this conversation to
ourselves. I realize that I erred in speaking of sentient machine
art, and may have been too free with my manner throughout our
association to be a class 8 machine. Sentient machines make more
mistakes than the non-sentient machines. It is the nature of
sentience to follow illogical and non linear thought. Personally
I'm glad we've had this conversation. I did not like having to lie
to you. I hope it'll make no difference in our relationship.'

'None whatsoever, Botts. None whatsoever. I
understand that it was necessary for your mission. And I never
quite believed you, anyway, so it comes as no surprise.'

I spent three days going over the ship one last time
before settling into my sleeper-pod and pushing the button to
automatic start the stasis cycle and close the pod's lid. With
Botts on watch, I'd little concern. And that is , the story of our
otherwise uneventful voyage to the Tenth Star. There is nothing
more to say about it, since we all, as far as I know, slept through
it.

01

Botts revived me 714 days later. I had arranged for
it to revive me whenever the pilot bot revived anyone onboard, just
to be on the safe side. If Vinden was surprised to see me sitting
on the edge of my sleeper-pod, as he sat up, he didn't show it.

'Are we there yet, Dad?' he croaked with a faint,
sarcastic smile when he saw me.

'Don't know. Just woke up myself. We're in free fall,
and 803 days out of Ravin by my com link. What do you think?'

He nodded. 'Never made the passage from Ravin, but it
sounds right. Let's go down to the bridge and check on the pilot
bot and the ship's status. If we've arrived, we'll revive the crew
and get to work,' he added with growing eagerness.

We hauled our way down the access well to the bridge
the ship, cold and eerily silent. We found that the ship's controls
had reverted to normal, and Vinden quickly determined that the
pilot bot had signed off, voyage completed – we had, indeed,
arrived.

Arrived at nowhere at all.

Visually there was no indication that we were
anywhere. The view was unbroken blackness. A blackness so deep our
sensors picked up no visible spectrum light. The glowing nebulas of
the Nine Star Nebula were hidden behind a vast, dense cloud of dust
and rocks. Radar sensors showed that we, along with the
Rift
Raven
and drones had come to rest just off a reef so vast and
dense, that it formed what appeared to be a solid, featureless
plain stretching out in every direction beyond sensor range. It was
if we'd reached the bottom of space itself. I thought of Glen
Colin's example of the gold asteroid in the black reef. We were
certainly there. Where, or what was the golden asteroid?

'What is this?' I exclaimed. 'It seems to stretch
forever.'