The craft's interior was pitch black both in terms of lighting and aesthetic. Silas had to feel his way around as the door closed behind him. From nozzles on the ceiling and floor sprayed familiar decontaminating white foam that was promptly sucked away as the room depressurized. The far wall split in two. Neons lines dimly lit a black copy of Ingenuity's living quarters.
He took a calming breath. "So what's the danger?" These were his first words to her.
"Welcome aboard, Silas Creedy. We are now cloaked in high geostationary orbit, and you are momentarily safe. I have replicated the interior of the hijacked craft for you. Your personal items including atmospheric modulators have been installed. I hope it is satisfactory."
"Ah, thanks, but you didn't answer my question, and I don't remember it being so black and full of hexagons… or dark." Conversing did not feel weird at all. He had talked to other AIs, but this one was on another level of sophistication entirely.
"Unfortunately, your lead-arsenic LEDs were destroyed in the repair protocol."
"Can you turn up these neon lines?"
"I do not advise doing so. We are very low on… fuel."
He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Whaaat? They're lights. They can't use that much energy."
"Every last joule is valuable." She smirked.
"Did you use up all the Helium-3 in the repair?"
"Yes," she said in a stilted tone, meaning the AI purposefully was communicating it decided to leave something out.
"What is it? Be honest, yeah? Let's get off to a good start. Man to machine."
She appeared to mull it over. "This craft is powered by a zero-point generator that consumes a form of refined… dark matter. Though your Helium-Deuterium reactor is secured in storage as a backup."
There were so many questions to ask as Silas stepped into the cockpit: "Do we have enough to make it back to Earth?"
"I am refining ambient dark matter as we speak, albeit very slowly. Please wait and enjoy the view." The wall transparency turned on. Z 285 was orange as ever. "It's not transparent," she clarified. "It's a high-definition video feed of our surroundings. Gene was likely simplifying this for you." The display panned and tilted toward planet C. They were above an ocean.
"You can read my memories?" He wasn't very surprised.
"It's protocol when encountering an unrecognized operator or intelligent species. I apologize if this upsets you."
He wanted to feel violated, but honestly he did not care. She was just an AI—a computer. And he had nothing to hide. "It's fine. Read away. Be my guest."
"Your life, your species, is somewhat interesting." She smiled. "You seem to be very fond of young women, which is why I choose this form."
"I can't deny that," he laughed. Now that the ice was more or less broken, he asked the questions of the century, "So I take it you're not from Earth? Why are you here? What happened? What's the danger?"
Her face was unreadable for a moment. "My creators, phonetically translated as the Arcengi, are an intelligent carbon-silicon species from a nearby galaxy that you know as Andromeda. We have been the dominant civilization there for the last fifty-six million Earth-years, and are studying the upcoming collision with this galaxy. I was sent on a scouting mission—"
"Did you say dominant there? As in the entire galaxy?"
"Yes. On your Kardashev scale, we can be considered a type three civilization. And as I was saying, I was sent here on a scouting mission in a military conflict with the dominant civilization of this Galaxy, a unification of several carbon based species. From your memories, it does not appear your species has knowledge of this. Am I wrong? Your memories are structured in a way that renders events of the distant past unclear."
He wasn't able to detect any lies, and her story wasn't too outlandish. "Nah, you're not wrong." But the Space Force higher ups probably know something or rather.
She nodded. "They most likely do. The AI controller in the hijacked craft was not present, but it is possible it wasn't outfitted with one given its size. Now that I think about it, I have to say it is the former. AI cores like myself are expensive to produce. We are valuable folk, not to be tossed around at the drop of a hat." Her ramblings were very Human-like. She was learning on the fly.
His throat softly cleared. "So back to this military conflict. What are you fighting over? What's the dominant species here?"
"As I said, a unification of several carbon species. Collectively, they call themselves the Elraeed. One species, the Arrakis, are similar to Humans in appearance, and we are in the vicinity of their home systems. It is not unreasonable to speculate your species were derived from theirs by either accidental or deliberate panspermia some time ago. You seemed to have diverged via natural evolutionary processes."
He understood the gist of that. "You're saying we didn't evolve from apes?"
"That may or may not have been part of an experiment. They are a highly inquisitive species—as are Humans."
Pieces fell into place. "Did they also seed this planet with life? Those lions you fought off were a lot like— You know."
"It is why I suspect they were experimenting with habitable planets in this region. We are very near to one of their laboratories. Just under two-hundred light-years."
So far, this story was adding up. So far, he was warming up to her, admittedly. This AI was smart to pick a beautiful face of a runway model. Too smart. He reminded himself to stay wary. "So why are you at war?"
She sighed. "During first contact, there were disagreements on how our merged galaxies will be governed. I know politics bore you, but you must understand we have starkly differing values. Elraeed mostly insist on non-intervention or observation, that all life is equal and should be respected and allowed its place in the universe regardless of intelligence or size or form or ability or origin.
"Argenci govern by direct intervention. They are an artificial species that no longer resembles their original carbon selves. During their first million years of development, they merged with silicon-based machines of their own creation on a genetic level and attained total control over their bodies and minds, effectively immortality, which they believe to be a kind of perpetually-evolving godhood. Each instance when they come across an intelligent species, an assimilation occurs whether by force or persuasion. This is why only one species rules Andromeda."
Silas whistled until he was out of breath. What a story! "That is certainly a differing of values."
"Don't shoot the messenger," Tracey teased.
He was chuckling. "And who's winning the war?"
"It is still early days, as your people would say. Argenci began sending scouts to find less-developed civilizations. Elraeed, naturally, didn't take this favorably and intercepted unmanned crafts. I was downed three Earth-years ago. I suspect your hijacked craft had also been shot down."
"Alright." Silas' gloved palms clapped together. "So let's say I believe everything you just said. What does this mean for us Humans? Will the Argenci try to assimilate us?"
"I would say without a doubt. Again, don't shoot the messenger."
"Okay." He paced back and forth for a good minute. He wasn't sure what to think. Suddenly, he was in a whole new world, a new reality. He wasn't in any position to speak on behalf of Humanity, and speaking of Humanity… they likely knew at least something. Freeman certainly knew something.
So what is the real objective of this mission?
Tracey said, "A mission can have multiple real objectives as plausible deniability."
"That's true."
"However, I do doubt your leaders know the full story. The Elraeed rarely make first contact, but they often maintain observational bases on nearby moons or planets."
"So we'll be shot at on sight?"
Tracey's chin tucked in worry. "Yes."
"Even though I'm on board?"
"They won't know."
He swallowed a groan. "Can they detect us through the cloak?"
"Yes." She smiled sadly. "I advise you return with me to what you would call our mother-ship. You will not be harmed, I promise."
He gave her a daring look. "Of course you'd advise that."
"It is the only course of action you have. Think carefully, Silas Creedy. Do you really wish to return to your people? Why did you accept this mission to begin with?" Her eyes were pleading. "We can offer you a new life, a better life. Come with me, please. You won't regret it."
"Okay, you can back off, but it's in your programming to do this, yeah?"
"No, I am acting on my own accord. The repair protocol reset my system. I am, effectively, free."
"Whatever you say, Tracey." But behind his words, he was seriously considering the offer. To live as an immortal being!
"Silas," she pressed. "We must go." Then the stars suddenly streaked into lines.
He growled, "hey, stop."
"Silas," she said with doubled urgency as a system map appeared next to her face. Three moving dots in a triangle formation were closing in on their position. A readout typed next to the leading dot.
**Arrakis Interceptor (unmanned spacecraft)
**Hit Points: 100%
**Power Level: 73,000
Oh, shit. "Go, go, go. Go faster!"
A labeled rectangle appeared at the top of the visor.
**Fuel: 1.48% (1.5% needed for warp speed)
The leading dot spat a smaller dot. The stars spiraled in an evasive maneuver, a blue plasma ball missing the hull by a indescribable distance, but the visor flashed red and yellow. A green wire frame of this craft appeared under the fuel gauge. The back section was yellow.
**Hull Status: 94%
"Do we have weapons?"
"Only a surface blaster."
He scrambled for ideas. "Can you make one?"
"My archives were damaged. I am recovering data."
**Archive Recovery: 0.0012%
Now inches away, the three dots fired in succession. Stars zigzagged back and forth, and vibrations in the floor shook Silas' frame. His teeth rattled, his heart drumming at two hundred beats a minute. The hull's rear was now red, close to failing.
The leading dot spat once more.
The fuel gauge hit 1.5%.
"Tracey! Now!" he yelled.
And the universe blurred into a tunnel of light.