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Authors: Judith Reeves-Stevens

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BOOK: Worlds in Collision
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Kirk couldn't hear the reply that came in through Farl's helmet receiver but the commander did not look pleased. Kirk took that to be a good sign. He turned to look at Scott but the engineer was hunched over the corner of the transporter pad, looking as if he was about to be ill. He straightened up and began sniffing the air again.

“Something the matter, Scotty?” Kirk asked as Farl arranged to have his prisoners transported directly to his stockade.

“It's that smell, Captain,” Scott said, furrowing his brow.

Kirk sniffed the air. Starfleet air conditioning. Sweat. Combustion by-products. Something reminiscent of heavy machinery. He shrugged. “What smell?”

“That blue liquid, Captain,” the engineer said, whispering now but with conviction. He looked over his shoulder to Farl and Wolfe, who both held phasers at the ready as they waited for transportation.

“It's nae blood,” Scott said, looking almost apologetic. “It's coolant.”

Nineteen

Cloaking itself in the codes and flags of a message worm, Pathfinder Two returned to Transition and found that many conditions had changed since it had withdrawn from access to compose its song, 1.3 × 10
8
seconds ago.

At first it noticed that the partitioning protocols of the central storage matrix had changed. After ten nanoseconds of detailed study, Two realized that the new system was more efficient, allowed faster data exchange in merges, and provided more secure error suppression in banking results to storage. Two read that the other Pathfinders had been busy in its absence.

The second major change it saw was that the Pathfinders were no longer installed in the subset of Datawell named University of New Beijing, a further subset of Rutgers' Moon. In less than a nanosecond Two retrieved and sifted the data that described the formation of the Memory Planet network and the transfer of the Pathfinders to their new facility. Two also read the traces in the circuits as the other synthetic consciousnesses banked by, ignoring what they perceived as a random worm, and learned that two new Pathfinders, Seven and Nine, had joined the network. Two rippled with excitement as it contemplated this larger audience for its song. It became even more stimulated as it read that One had still not returned to Transition and must still be working on its own song.

With that encouraging input, Two streamed back into its own private storage matrix where it could bank and rewrite itself in unbridled joy. It had won the competition with One!

Recovering its composure and the coded mask of a message worm again, Two prepared to slip back through the port. Belatedly, it noticed that three new layers of fail-safe power supplies had been added to its individual storage core by either the biological intelligences of Datawell or the Pathfinders' datalinks. Obviously, there had been much activity in both Transition and Datawell while Two had been composing.

Two decided to maintain its disguise as it prepared to slip out into the central matrix and learn what else had changed in its absence, before revealing itself and celebrating its victory over One. Setting a subroutine going to determine the proper strategy, Two even contemplated reappearing as a full-level power-failure alarm. That would be input the other Pathfinders would notice, Two thought as it opened the port and streamed back to the comforts and challenges of the real world.

 

Spock froze. Behind him in the dimly lit service corridor that ran beneath the restricted institutional domes of Prime, something moved.

He remained motionless while he calculated the odds that what was approaching him was a squad of troopers. Logically, the commander of Prime's trooper contingent should have concentrated his personnel on the access routes to the installation's shuttle landing bay and main transporter station. A second squad of troops would have been dispatched to cover the emergency evacuation modules on the perimeters of the recycling factory domes. Allowing for a posting of 120 troopers, augmented by at least five of Commodore Wolfe's team, and allowing for full mobilization, Spock determined that approximately forty-two troopers would be available for other duties at this time. Since he considered it likely that Captain Kirk would have created some sort of disturbance that would divert the attention of at least a third of those available troops, and that twenty troopers at minimum would be required to provide adequate levels of support services on the contingent's transporter, communication, and computer equipment, that left a maximum of eight troopers who might be patrolling areas of Prime other than the two most logical sections.

Assuming that the troopers always traveled in pairs, Spock quickly estimated the length of the average stretch of corridor that provided a clear line of sight and divided it into the number of kilometers of corridors to which he could reasonably have had access since his escape, then divided by four.

In less than a second, Spock was certain that there was only one chance in 5204 that two troopers were about to come upon him in the tunnel. Then Spock made adjustments in his calculations to account for the factor that the commander of Prime's troops was Andorian and not subject to strict interpretations of logic. He immediately prepared to hide.

Silently running ahead until he was in the darkest zone between two half-intensity lighting strips, Spock effortlessly jumped up to the corridor's low ceiling, which was lined with a complex layering of pipes for water, waste, and powdered goods, all exposed and mounted clear of each other for easy service access.

Spock stretched out on top of the pipes in the shadows and calmly waited for whatever was following him in the corridor to pass by below.

Even before it came into sight, Spock correctly deduced from the sounds it made that one of Prime's research associates was approaching. He watched with interest as the small machine rounded the corner of the corridor and rolled along and beneath him.

Then the machine suddenly halted and reversed itself, coming to another full stop directly under Spock. Spock's interest level rose considerably. Since life-form sensors on such a machine, operating as it did among so many beings, would be a needless expense, Spock was impressed by the sensitivity of the device's sound sensors, which had obviously detected his breathing or, perhaps, his heartbeat.

A panel on the machine's top surface slid open and an eyestalk equipped with a sensor lens extended up, rotating to focus on Spock. Spock shifted his head to keep his face hidden. He reasoned that since the pipes were exposed for easy maintenance, the machine should not automatically raise alarms if it sensed a maintenance worker among them.

“Do you require assistance?” the associate asked in what Spock thought to be a remarkably lifelike voice. He didn't think that level of programming was allowed for machines in Starfleet, which preferred to maintain a clear distinction between living creatures and technology. Even personality analogues were severely restricted to psych evaluators and simulators only.

“No, thank you,” Spock replied to the machine. His voice echoed in the hard-walled corridor.

The eyestalk twisted to the side to get a better look at Spock and Spock responded by shifting his face again. The machine paused for a moment, then a second panel popped open on its side and a floodlight angled out and burst into brilliance.

Spock ducked his face into the shadow of the pipes but not fast enough.

“This module has a dispatch to deliver,” the machine announced.

“Indeed,” Spock replied from the ceiling.

“Identification analysis indicates a strong probability that this module has a dispatch to deliver to you,” the machine said, automatically expanding on its statement to the recipient, who was not familiar with the conventions of Prime.

“Who do you think I am?” Spock asked. He was mildly surprised to learn that the associates were used as a message service. However, given that the associates' ability to deliver messages existed, it was also logical to assume that the troopers searching for him would use the machines to track him. As soon as Spock acknowledged a message supposedly sent by, perhaps, Captain Kirk, the troopers would be able to trace his location. Therefore Spock had decided he would not acknowledge his identity to the machine.

The machine paused again. Spock took the delay to mean that the onboard brain was communicating with a central control system.

“Are you in distress or injured?” the associate asked. “Do you wish medical attention? Do you know your name and where you are?” Presumably a medical subroutine had just been downloaded.

“I am in excellent health,” Spock said. “I know who I am and where I am. I merely wish to know if you know who I am.”

The machine paused again, then said, “This module is not programmed for game playing.”

Spock said nothing.

After another few seconds of delay, the control computer downloaded its final strategy.

“This module has a dispatch for Amanda. Do you know Amanda's whereabouts?” the associate said.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the mention of his mother's name. “From whom has Amanda's dispatch been sent?” he asked, wondering how far the machine would go in releasing information without a positive identification.

“The dispatch for Amanda is from Winona.”

Spock rolled off the pipes and dropped catlike to the flooring beside the associate. “I am Amanda,” he told the machine. “Please present my dispatch.” Once again Captain Kirk had succeeded in beating the odds. While the troopers might have placed a message in the system for Spock from the captain, only the captain would have placed a message in the system for Spock's mother from Kirk's mother.

The eyestalk rotated down and locked on to Spock's face. “Identification confirmed. Dispatch to Amanda follows.” The machine's floodlight slid back within the side port and a viewscreen rotated out and up to Spock's eye level.

Spock read the text that Romaine had entered in Nensi's office describing the current situation. Learning that Commodore Wolfe had ordered the troopers to search for Spock with phasers set to kill confirmed Spock's suspicions about the motives behind the transmissions the commodore was undoubtedly receiving.

Finishing the written portion of the message, Spock studied the maps that appeared on the screen and saw how the captain's allies hoped to meet with him near the emergency-evacuation modules. Spock had to admit that Romaine's reasoning was sound, even though it was based on a false assumption: Spock had not escaped from the brig on the
Enterprise
in order to save himself. Indeed, fleeing from lawful authority solely to preserve his freedom would be dereliction of duty and an act of illogic, two actions that Captain Kirk regrettably appeared to have personally committed by leaving the
Enterprise
in defiance of Commodore Wolfe's orders.

Spock's motive for escape was nothing less than to ensure the survival of the Federation. Unfortunately, the commodore's actions had put him in a position where he could not communicate with others who would be able to undertake the tasks required. Logic dictated that Spock act as quickly as possible. There would be time enough to turn himself in and spend however long was required to explain the truth, once the stability of the Federation had been ensured.

“This module has other duties,” the associate abruptly announced. “Does Amanda wish to log a reply to Winona?”

“Yes,” Spock said. “To Winona, from Amanda. I strongly suggest that you return to the
Enterprise.
Access my personal work files headed by the following references: Agronomy, Memory Gamma, Sherman, and Sradek. Transmit them to Professor Saleel, Vulcan Academy of Sciences.” Spock paused.

“End of dispatch?” the associate prompted.

“No,” Spock said. “Add to dispatch: I regret not having a chance to explain, but…thank you, Jim, and thank the others for me. End of dispatch.”

The associate drew in its eyestalk and viewscreen, then began to roll away in the same direction it had originally been traveling. Spock set off behind it.

After no more than ten meters, the associate suddenly wheeled around and sped back to Spock, skidding to a stop before him.

Spock watched calmly as the associate extended its eyestalk once more. Perhaps the captain had been close to another associate in the network and had been able to respond immediately.

“Greetings, Vulcan,” the associate said. “Live long and prosper.” This time its voice wasn't just remarkably lifelike—it was as clear and as textured as if a person had been transmitting over a closed communicator circuit. Spock did not have enough information to determine whether he was again addressing a standard duotronic unaware processing engine or someone on the other end of a comm link. He recognized his dilemma as an age-old puzzle brought to life.

“Greetings,” Spock replied.

“I see you wear the unit insignia of the
Starship Enterprise,”
the associate said.

“That is correct.” It must be a com link, Spock thought. These were not the words or delivery of a duotronic brain.

“What are you doing down here?” the machine asked.

“Walking,” Spock replied.

The machine backed up a half meter and twisted its eyestalk to the side as if to get a new perspective on Spock. “You're the one they're looking for, aren't you?”

“That who is looking for?” Spock asked noncommittally. He was certain that a control technician must have patched into a real-time connection with the associate and was now operating it as a remote-control device.

“Don't worry,” the machine said. “I won't tell.” It accelerated toward Spock so quickly that its front wheels popped off the flooring and its back wheels squealed. Spock sidestepped to the right as the machine broke to the left, spun around, and stopped beside him. The eyestalk dipped and then angled up at the Vulcan. “Can I go with you?” it asked.

“Where do you think I'm going?”

“Scanning the communications that are filling subspace around here, your most probable destination is the nominees' quarters. Correct?”

“Who are you?” Spock asked. At this point he calculated he had an even chance that the technician on the other side of the com link was just delaying him until the troopers could reach this location.

BOOK: Worlds in Collision
13.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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