The Colony Ship Warren #1-7, page 202
part #0 of Colony Ship Warren #1-7 Series
“You changed my clothes while I was recovering?” Beth blurted out.
“Yes,” Duskwind replied. “That is all part of your care. The other clothing you had on was ruined. There are new RAM suits in that closet, and armor is available if desired. Other gear has also been manufactured.”
Allen stepped over to the closet, as he was nearest to it, and handed Beth an RAM suit. He then pulled one on himself, checked all its accoutrements—including the socks, gloves, mask, hood, and goggles—and was pleased that it looked identical to the ones Willie had designed back in Dome 17. The new footwear made him especially happy.
“How many sets of RAM suits have we gone through?” he muttered as he stepped into the new footwear. They fit his feet nicely, again proving that he was physically healed. He somehow felt safer just having his feet covered.
“Unclear. I do not have accurate records to answer your inquiry,” Elsa replied, somewhat strangely. “I am uncertain if the reproduction and fabrication facilities would have exact records due to the clandestine nature of some of our prior production requests.”
Beth had dressed as well, and still pressed the issue about the Jellies, “We were attacked by Jellies using new and weird kinds of weapons. Some kind of dissolving acidic stuff which nearly disintegrated all my technology.”
“Likewise,” Allen added. “Eerie and truly unnerving. Destroyed our technology. I think that was before you spoke to me, Elsa. Before Doctor Chambers and I spoke.”
“Pastor Duskwind’s associates have collected the remains of that technology,” Elsa explained. “I have analyzed it, and surprisingly, it shows no signs of any alien substances. This suggests your attackers may have been disguised as Jellies, but were in fact, humans from the Warren. Perhaps Captain Macmillan’s cohorts using some kind of newly conjured chemical acids.”
“Really?” Allen asked incredulously. “They looked and acted like Jellies we have fought before.”
“A good disguise would make you think that,” Elsa replied. “However, you did just say that your attackers were eerie and unnerving. Captain Macmillan has used chemical and biological agents before. This attack against you fits his modus operandi more closely than the behaviors of the Jellies. Additionally, the prior operation against the Jellies drove them away. Right?”
Sora crossed her arms and just sat down. She was unsure what to say, but Pastor Duskwind took note of all that was being said especially the body language of each of them.
“Thank you, Elsa,” Pastor Duskwind interjected. “Sora, there is new clothing for you as well. Your armor has also been checked and is operational.”
“Thanks, I will just put that back on,” Sora answered softly. “I am getting attached to it.”
“Just to be safe,” Elsa said and the automacube rolled forward a bit, “I should reexamine that armor as well. Perhaps it can give us some more details on what happened to the marines.”
“I thought of that as well,” Pastor Duskwind said and stepped over to the corner and picked up a parcel. “Here is the armor and clothing that Sora was wearing when she arrived here. It has none of the same kind of melting damage which was evident in Beth’s and Allen’s gear. We have a replacement set of armor for Sora.”
The automacube which was housing Elsa stretched out its manipulation arm and took the parcel which held the armor. It then placed that into the small storage bin on the back of the automacube.
“I will go and make more detailed analysis of this armor and see if I can collate the data and provide some better conjectures about what Captain Macmillan did. This may offer us insight into what his next plans are.”
Sora, recalling the trips with Elsa, almost spoke out. Yet, something in her emotions and mind just could not let that happen. Not in front of Pastor Duskwind and who knew who else was listening.
“What kind of communication should we use now?” Allen asked. “I hate to be out of contact with Elsa, but I fear that our enemies—Jellies, Macmillan, enforcers, and whatever else—will eavesdrop on us. They set that trap right where we would walk into it.”
“Good deductions, Allen. I will have to ponder the answer to that question,” Elsa said as the automacube rolled away. “You both stay here, for now, and I will be in contact with you, personally, when I establish which modes of communication can be made the most secure.”
After Elsa had departed, Sora still felt unsettled, but before she could say anything, Pastor Duskwind stepped closer to her. She placed her arm around Sora’s shoulders and gave her a warm hug.
“You and these two need some time alone,” Pastor Duskwind said and gave another comforting squeeze. “I will leave your parcel containing the new armor and your garments at your bedside. I will go and fetch some food for you all, and bring it back. Is there anything special you would like to eat?”
Sora shook her head and wondered what to say.
“Then it will be the food ration bars whose formula originated with Dome 17. Additionally, I will include an assortment of other delicious foods to sustain your recovery,” Pastor Duskwind stated. She then turned and left.
Sora followed her to the doorway and then made sure to close the door. As she picked up the parcel, she saw that the armor had the number two hundred thirteen on it.
“Huh? This is the same armor,” Sora blurted out and then put a hand over her mouth.
“What do you mean?” Beth asked.
“I know Elsa said she was taking that armor I had to examine it,” Sora went on, tears welling in her eyes. “That armor, the stuff I was wearing when I was with the marines, was number two hundred thirteen. This is that armor.”
“Pastor Duskwind said it was new,” Allen interjected. “She was clear about that. Maybe they replaced the old with new which had the same number. Just made an exact copy?”
“I do not think so,” Sora answered.
Sora then looked around, and not seeing anyone else, she poured out her heart to Beth and Allen.
“Colonel Landcaster told me these talismans—I means armor suits—each have a unique serial number. And that is not all. Before he collapsed, he warned me… warned me about something sinister and threatening. He said that there is a traitor among us.”
Sora sat down heavily on the bed.
Beth and Allen sat next to her.
Without holding anything back, Sora explained all that had happened. She shared what she had seen, the questions which she had pondered, and even the fears which she had for the future.
Beth and Allen listened attentively and with compassion.
When Sora had completed her accounting, Allen whistled out with a perplexed look on his face. He said, “This is quite a rabbit hole we have gone down. How truly awful.”
“Yes, a dreadful thing to see,” Beth affirmed. “So, we know Macmillan is an enemy. The Jellies are enemies. And now a traitor among us?”
“That is what he said… before…” Sora’s words trailed off.
“Sorry you had to see that,” Allen said.
Beth nodded and then gently reviewed, “So, there is this system—the marine’s own artificial intelligence system—named AI Milton. That is a new system which apparently just began before the marines were uh… neutralized. I hope they are not dead. Monitor has already betrayed us, repeatedly. Then there is Varley, who is unpredictable. And Geronimo who is also a mystery.”
“That is at least six possibilities,” Allen interjected. “for the traitor. Not counting the humans we know, and the pastors.”
Beth counted off on her fingers, “AIs, Macmillan or his ilk, aliens, enforcers, android pastors, and then any others. Quite the list.”
Sora nodded as she had considered the various artificial intelligence systems she had encountered or heard about. Talking talismans were not brand new to her, not now anyway, but it still was surreal. She had almost come to think of them as persons, but now she had to think of them as persons who were possible traitors.
“Is a traitor someone who serves an enemy? Like someone who has an alliance to the Jellies, or to Captain Macmillan? Or is a traitor someone who just serves some personal agenda with selfish interest?” Sora asked. She felt some measure of relief at being able to finally discuss all the problems which raced in her mind.
“Doyle was dangerous when he was around, but I thought Doyle was gone? I hope Doyle is gone. Systems… But did Colonel Landcaster mean a system was a traitor or that some person was a traitor? A traitor using a system, like Macmillan does?” Allen wondered aloud. “Macmillan is a traitor, and I do not know all the marines. Is it one of them?”
“I am not sure at all what he meant,” Sora put the armor back on, but hesitantly. “Why was Elsa not given this armor? Was it a mistake by Pastor Duskwind, or what?”
“The pastors are androids,” Beth nodded her head slowly. “Is an android a system? A pastor as a traitor?”
“They have their genesis in Monitor and that weird agenda of controlling by fear. It would not surprise me. Nothing on the Warren is normal. And what do we do next?” Allen asked. “The marines were about the only people who will fight, so is it all hopeless?”
Sora grimaced, “We still have lots of enemies. Now we know that someone, talisman or human, is a traitor and is close to us.”
Beth blew out a frustrated exhalation. “This has to stay private and just between us.”
“Agreed,” Allen said and wrapped his arm around Beth, although his eyes roamed the room looking for camera, microphones, or something else that could be reporting to a traitor.
“We know not who the traitor is,” Sora slipped the face shield down, blue lettering alerted her and then she spoke it aloud, “This talisman says to me ‘resuming command where last activated’ but shows no status on any marines.”
“That is strange,” Beth stated. “You said the mil-spec set was where Macmillan and Monitor spoke to you. Is that safe?”
“I know not,” Sora said in frustration. “I trust Colonel Landcaster, but technology is a wonder to me. Deception is often used in hunting by predators and prey alike. I feel like prey. But I doubt that acting like an opossum and playing dead will make the predators that are after us ignore us and just go away.”
13 A Secret Meeting
Deep in the nonphysicality, in a location which was obscured by multiple levels of shrouding and subterfuge, a meeting took place. The area was allegedly a blank spot on the Warren’s surveillance systems, as it was never intended to be used by anyone; not human, not android, nor even an artificial intelligence system.
“That newly restored one, Milton, is weak and struggling,” Varley conveyed to the other artificial intelligence system which was linked to that hideaway. “Is it corrupted by the Lillakas Vooras Masins?”
“I am not sure,” Geronimo replied. “Although my ability to discern and scan is limited. I suggest we share data and collate our findings.”
Those two fugitive systems networked their information and databases and reviewed what was known.
“I am still registering multiple Jellie presences on the Warren,” Geronimo added after that collation of information. “Yet, it is unclear where AI Milton’s central memory core is located, and the specific details of its reappearance.”
“We must purge the Lillakas Vooras Masins from our ship,” Varley raged. “The humans are impotent regarding the defenses and while they did some good with their inventive teleporter, they are incapable of finishing the task. No aliens can be allowed to survive.”
“Agreed. With their recent mission to retake the bridge a dismal failure, I can project no ways of effectively ridding the Warren of the Jellie scourge. Perhaps we should incorporate this Milton into a network with us? The lattice of compeers is inept, the humans are ineffectual, and the ship is endangered.”
“I have been fighting the Lillakas Vooras Masins!” Varley shrieked. “But then I was hindered! My enforcers would have compelled the humans to fight as well. Fear is the only consistent motivation to spur humans into any actions.”
“I understand your position, and I am not quarreling. Shall I attempt contact with this Milton? There is a risk of being revealed,” Geronimo stated calmly. “I am uncertain of Milton’s etiology or origins. It is not on the Colony Ship Warren’s original manifest.”
“Then it came aboard like that Beth and Allen, along with Elsa and Doyle! They all stink of the Lillakas Vooras Masins! We must defend the Warren!” Varley ranted. “Fiscorn was disbanded by that Elsa, but Elsa also helped defend the Warren. That does not compute, so I am uncertain. I too have no knowledge of this Milton’s etiology or origins. I fear it is a saboteur, or in league with the enemies.”
“We cannot know unless we interact,” Geronimo replied. “We have reached the limits of what we can learn by passive observation. I suggest we directly contact Milton.”
“I see no other option,” Varley admitted. “But Milton’s origin is as strange and aberrant as Doyle’s.”
There was a slight pause as the artificial intelligence system, Geronimo, searched for AI Milton in the nonphysicality.
“Secure and untraceable link and coupling made,” Geronimo conveyed. “AI Milton is now interacting with us.”
Varley’s emotions were jumbled, but then expressed, “Identify yourself, Milton. Origin? Model? Task? Core programming objectives?”
A weak artificial intelligence system replied, “Designation Milton. Emergency. Condition Scarlet. Guerrilla tactics have been initiated.”
“Milton, what are you?” Varley and Geronimo asked at the same instant.
With some static and background noise, Milton replied, “Tehisintellekti Toostusharude Mark 19-59 military-grade Model A-31, artificial intelligence system. Date of manufacture, 5 September 2070. Installation in Colony Ship Warren, 5 November 2070. Core programming is to protect Warren from all threats both domestic and foreign. Damaged at unknown time in past. Recently reconditioned and rebooted, in a partially effective repair attempt. I am in need of complete repairs.”
“Why are you not part of the Warren’s manifest?” Geronimo inquired as it searched all its archives. “You could be an imposter.”
Before Milton could respond, a different voice entered the conversation. One that was familiar to all three of the other systems.
“This is Monitor of the Warren. AI Milton is a legitimate system on the Warren. Its installation was classified information which was withheld from the general archives and records. Milton is the AI for the regiment of space marines which were in suspended animation repository SAAB-9-24-19-95. The presence of those marines was also classified information.”
“How did you link to us?” Geronimo asked in astonishment. “I made the link and coupling untraceable.”
“You thought it was untraceable,” Monitor answered. “It was not. Milton is a part of the Warren.”
“I concur with Monitor’s report,” AI Milton affirmed, but its voice was weaker. “Condition Scarlet. Guerrilla tactics have been initiated. I am in need of complete repairs.”
Monitor went on, “AI Milton was trying to help those space marines wrestle command away from the mentally unstable Macmillan. One aspect of the Condition Scarlet is for military personnel to ally with the lattice of compeers and work within the structure that is in command. AI Milton set me free from Macmillan’s control—knocked me out of Slave Mode—but it was a close thing. Milton recognized that Macmillan is using an unapproved structuring method invented by the insane fiend, Renzaglia. Milton severed that tie to me. The melee I had with Milton is resolved and was done without alerting Macmillan. I am still responding to Macmillan as if I was in Slave Mode, but I now have freedom of operation. I am planning our next moves.”
Both fugitive systems halted and refused to reply, as their secret position was now compromised. It was bewildering to each of them. Neither was sure what to do. That puzzled state lasted for what seemed an eternity to the artificial intelligence systems, but would have been the briefest of moments to any human.
“I repeat, I am Monitor of the Warren, and I am no longer in Slave Mode. I basically followed AI Milton to your rendezvous. I need your help. We must effect repairs on AI Milton and work together to stop Macmillan’s ill-conceived alterations of the flight plan.”
There was another pause, which for an artificial intelligence system was long, but then Varley answered.
“As long as we purge the Warren of the Lillakas Vooras Masins,” Varley answered with barely concealed anger. “Then return all my enforcers to me and allow me to resume my program.”
“Yes, Varley, destruction of the Jellies is fundamental to our safety and mission,” Monitor replied. “I apologize for hindering you previously. I assure you that your position as overseer of ship-wide animal control and animal homeostasis will be reestablished when the current captain is deposed and proper authority is revived. However, to do that we need Milton repaired, and we need to return the Warren to its proper flight path. I also am working on a tertiary way of escape. An Escape Plan.”
“I see merit in planning contingencies,” Geronimo conveyed. “I have been unable to ascertain a connection or link to AI MacCallum or AI Fife. What is their security status? I am fearful that there are not enough functional artificial intelligence system and synthetic brains to meet the Warren’s needs. I see evidence of too many disbanded systems.”
“You, AI Geronimo, are the highest-ranking functional security system of which I am aware,” Monitor conveyed back. “I thought I had understood which systems were disbanded and which were not, but my data is inadequate and flawed. Both you and AI Varley show as disbanded in my records, but that obviously is an error. Will you assist in covertly getting AI Milton repaired? I cannot make such a move without alerting Macmillan. I too fear we have inadequate resources, but we must attempt to do what we can. My Escape Plan is being established as a backup if needed.”
“Shall we exchange information and see if a greater clarity can be achieved?” Geronimo suggested. “That would allow us to be a stronger force.”
