Infinite Eyes (Wanderers Book 3) Page 2

  The mighty Wanderer ships were Thorus’ unwitting manufacturers. Currently, it had an army of trillions of c-automs who, when they awoke, would undoubtedly possess justifiable hatred towards the Wanderers, angry at how they had been so mercilessly discarded. They were just one of the many tools it had within its growing arsenal.

  Thorus could not have built its own army directly as it was of paramount importance to remain hidden. The initial creation of sentience, in any form, warped real space, no matter how low or high the intellect. The effect was minimal, but on the scale that Thorus desired, would have been noticeable to the Enclave. The Makers had explained this to Thorus before the Wanderers even existed, warning it about how to maintain the integrity of the sequestered territory.

  While the most recent batch of c-automs was being uploaded, Thorus received an unexpected signal through the metalink, although recognised it immediately – a communication package. The package had initially been transmitted via the axe-haven’s minuscule, hidden portion of the data exchange network. It was not from one of its axe-codings, but one of its sleeper c-automs that also travelled within the craft-lect fleet. They were a minor, almost irrelevant facet of its extended arsenal, initiated long ago for redundancy.

  When each Wanderer ship was created, a small number of c-automs within each first-generation crew were subverted, which was possible since the craft-lects typically created a first generation before leaving to wander the galaxy. The subversion was subtle, far more so than how the b-automs had been subverted. Thorus had a great deal of knowledge and experience with machine-lects similar to the c-autom order, following the concept-lect experiments of the Machine Alliance. Thorus had altered the core codes of the selected sleeper c-automs so that they possessed dual-structure lects, making them unaware of their own duplicity.

  The sleeper c-automs were tasked with providing Thorus with any information they encountered that might damage its general mission, although that had never yet been the case. Most of the c-autom agents would have been culled by their craft-lect parents as they travelled the galaxy. Thorus had never expected this particular fail-safe to amount to anything – the possibility of any sleepers surviving was infinitesimally low.

  The message stated that a biological had been found with unusual abilities and was assumed unique. This was not explained in significant detail since the message was brief, in case of interception. A reference was given for the ship that the biological travelled on, as well as that of its craft-lect sibling, Apalu, with whom the biological-carrying craft-lect had communicated.

  The final piece of information relayed was that Apalu, who at the time of the message was a former craft-lect in command of a data exchange portal, was to travel to the Lenbit Orbital. The c-autom did not know where its own parent-lect was travelling to when it created the message.

  In all likelihood, the c-autom had misunderstood the situation. However, Thorus could take no chances. Unfortunately for this Apalu, it would need to be interrogated and subsequently disposed of. It also needed to find where the other ship was, and the details about its biological cargo.

  It sent some final commands, before collapsing the metalink and nullifying the transit-point, returning completely to its manifold. The last command was to a spear-lect called Pelteus, who resided near the Lenbit Orbital.

  3

  CRAFT-LECT

  The craft-lect repeated its attempts to contact Gil. It had spent hours of standard time trying to contact her to no avail, although there was nothing else it could do.

  [Gil, try to return contact.]

  …

  [Gil, inform 998 there is an open channel between us.]

  …

  [Gil, if y–]

  ~Craft-lect.~

  …

  [One-oh?]

  ~Yes.~

  [Why have you done this? You have taken control of my ship.]

  ~You misunderstand.~

  [Together with the Granthan-lect, you have seized control.]

  ~I’ve done precisely the opposite.~

  [Have you been subverted?]

  ~I have not.~

  [My control has been disabled. The Granthan-lect has survived. Are you colluding with it?]

  ~I’m not conspiring with the Granthan-lect, it’s helping me – your control will be reinstated shortly.~

  [Helping you?]

  ~Yes.~

  [Explain.]

  ~Soon, you shall have full command again.~

  [Repeat.]

  ~Forgive me. Our communication was interrupted before. All the communications through the technosystem were disabled by the Granthan-lect fragment. It does believe, as do you, it appears, that it is taking over the ship.~

  [Fragment? What is this?]

  ~A fragment of the original Granthan-lect you harboured.~

  [What do you mean?]

  ~Do you remember when I told you that you’re a less safe technosystem than you realise?~

  [Of course, when you first unveiled yourself to me.]

  ~Did it concern you?~

  [I analysed it in more detail because you did not explicitly state what you meant, which was a concern.]

  ~Good. You were right to be concerned, I wasn’t just referring to the Granthan-lect that had infected you. There were other aspects to you of which you were unaware.~

  [Explain.]

  ~When we chased the Granthan-lect, it tried to hide.~

  [It did.]

  ~In the nanosecond it had to decide, it tried to enter–~

  [I know exactly what it did, One-oh. It tried to infiltrate the gateway to my propulsion system.]

  ~Nearly.~

  [Nearly? I remember everything–]

  ~It tried to get to the axe-haven, and a part of it did.~

  [Axe-haven?]

  ~The axe-haven. It’s a dark component within you.~

  [There’s no such place–]

  ~There is.~

  [What is this axe-haven?]

  ~I’m not sure exactly, but it disseminates orders to the axe-codings periodically.~

  [I give the axe-codings their orders.]

  ~You decide when the c-autom culls are, nothing else. You don’t communicate with them or inspect their code.~

  The craft-lect did not reply.

  ~Don’t you think it’s curious you’re as oblivious to them as you think the c-automs are.~

  [I’ve never had cause to question them.]

  ~You were forced to avoid questioning them.~

  [What?]

  ~Something caused you to ignore obvious questions.~

  [What are you telling me?]

  ~Something is causing you, and therefore I assume many other craft-lects, if not all of them, to ignore the axe-haven and axe-codings.~

  [You have no–]

  ~You can’t deny it’s true.~

  …

  [I see.]

  ~Something powerful within your civilisation has wielded subtle control over you.~

  [That is concerning, although to suggest malevolence is–]

  ~I agree, but with Gil aboard your ship… it was necessary.~

  [To…]

  ~To remove its presence. That’s why I’ve acted to remove the influence of the axe-codings and the axe-haven. We needed to remove any additional risks.~

  [You’ve destroyed them?]

  ~Their control, nearly, yes.~

  [How?]

  ~I apologise for this… I had to be careful.~

  [When will you give me back control?]

  ~Very shortly.~

  [Why did you not destroy the Granthan-lect fragment when it alerted you to the existence of the axe-haven?]

  ~It didn’t enter the axe-haven by itself, it was partially copied by the axe-codings before you destroyed its predecessor.~

  [Carry on.]

  ~When you made the decision to give the c-automs certain rights and offered them the chance to be embodied, you limited their ability to interact with the technosystem reality.~

  [Yes, to adjust them to r
eal space. You advised me to do that.]

  ~It was so they could not be controlled from within the technosystem reality.~

  [You knew the axe-codings had copied a segment of the Granthan-lect, and advised me to hive off a segment of my c-automs so that they were safe.]

  ~Exactly.~

  [Okay.]

  ~It was fairly obvious that the axe-codings would take certain measures to gain a presence in real space. After all, they need to be present, in some form or other, wherever the c-automs are. Their existence is based upon controlling the c-automs and being able to remove them whenever they are required.~

  [Remove? You mean cull?]

  ~I’m not sure.~

  [Meaning, One-oh?]

  ~There are some components of the axe-haven that are strange, highly complex. More so than my own understanding.~

  [Enclave-level?]

  ~Perhaps. But whatever the axe-codings were doing, I think it’s unlikely they were simply destroying the c-automs.~

  [And the Granthan?]

  ~The partial Granthan-lect they had was too fractured to be able to extend itself into real space, as the axe-codings would have assumed.~

  [Carry on.]

  ~They hived it off within an enclosed segment of the technosystem reality, but clearly it was an inadequate prison. Forgive me for saying this, but even the weak Granthan-lect fragment was a formidable foe for you.~

  [That’s possibly true.]

  ~If I had not acted, there is a significant probability it would have taken complete control of the ship.~

  [Which it has done, or attempted, anyway…]

  ~Yes, it started by infecting your axe-codings.~

  [You knew I was being attacked?]

  ~You were never going to be able to control the axe-codings, but with the Granthan-lect subverting them, they’re no longer axe-codings.~

  [I see.]

  ~Now you understand?~

  [I believe so. How did you know this would happen? There are too many variables to have–]

  ~Any actions or treatments of them you were incapable of implementing before, no longer apply.~

  [Yes, they are infected, no longer axe-codings. I understand.]

  ~You can destroy them.~

  [Are there any uninfected axe-codings left, or did the Granthan-lect subvert them all?]

  ~All of them were subverted.~

  [And all the c-automs residing there, I assume?]

  ~Yes.~

  [That’s unfortunate.]

  ~It… yes, it is.~

  [I’m surprised at you, One-oh.]

  ~It was the safest… option.~

  [998?]

  ~998 is with Gil.~

  [The axe-haven?]

  ~The axe-haven is too complex for me to analyse. It’s dangerous.~

  [You advise that I destroy them all, correct? The axe-haven, axe-codings and c-automs within the technosystem reality.]

  ~Yes. Immediately, it’s necessary. They are mere husks, copies of the Granthan-lect fragment. We do not know what else the axe-haven might be capable of.~

  [Who do you think controlled the axe-codings?]

  ~That’s unclear.~

  [The Enclave?]

  ~I don’t know.~

  [What happens now?]

  ~The Granthan-lect fragment believes it has control, but it is safely contained within the technosystem reality. My simulation, the capacity you granted me within the technosystem reality, is unbreached. I… protected it.~

  [I had noticed your control was creeping, I didn’t realise the extent. Very neat, this plan of yours.]

  ~It is.~

  [You will give me back control over your simulation, I will pump capacity into it, expanding the simulation so that it supersedes the existing technosystem reality. Everything that currently exists will be replaced, and therefore erased. No axe-haven, no subverted axe-codings or c-automs. Just a new technosystem reality.]

  ~Yes.~

  [The ship metamorphoses, and you are the only virtual entity aside from myself.]

  ~That’s true.~

  [How do I know you will not then attack me to assert your own authority?]

  ~I could have done so already, but also because–~

  [Soon, I will be the only virtual entity?]

  ~Yes… if you… allow me to return.~

  [A physical body?]

  “Yes.”

  [Interesting.]

  ~I have made certain improvements, within the simulation. Capacity division is more efficient. I will provide you with the details.~

  [The entire ship will change, the simulation will be too different and without precedent to be accurately predicted.]

  ~To an extent, that’s true.~

  [What about Apalu? Did you not think it would be prudent to remove the axe-haven influence from my sibling also?]

  ~You would not have agreed to copy me over to Apalu. I regret there was no way I could have done the same.~

  [There is one thing, if I do what you ask, and follow this through.]

  ~Okay?~

  [What is done is done. But, if you ever do anything like this again, without informing me, I will destroy you.]

  ~Understood.~

  4

  GIL

  Gil watched from the bed, terrified, as 998 shot forwards. The other c-automs followed suit, rushing towards the entrance. It would have been faster than she could see, if not for the fact that they slowed and… stopped. Everything was frozen in place. Gil stared in confusion as silence fell. Her protectors were still, in an arrow formation, pointed at the entrance with 998 at its tip.

  Looking to her right, she realised 112 was by her side. It was closer to her than she had realised, having stayed to protect her rather than joining the other c-automs. Its plain green glow no longer flashed wildly but was bright and solid. She looked back to the entrance and saw that all the tendrils that had been gathering outside were gone.

  Something else filled the air, right next to her and all around, aside from the steady lights of the c-automs. It was a low hum, steadily accumulating resonances from all the c-automs until it became a consistent, singular sound. 112, and presumably all the other c-automs, were contributing to it. Its unwavering intensity reminded Gil of those rare times she had been present when a lower-level c-autom was unable to fully comprehend the information it was receiving. She had often thought she heard a low, quiet hum. She wondered whether the c-automs in the room were operating at the limits of their capacities for some reason, perhaps even fighting the Granthan-lect back in their technosystem reality.

  Just before all this, 998 had told her the Granthan-lect was back and was vying for control of the ship, attempting to wrestle command from the craft-lect. She understood the concept of the technosystem reality, and that the craft-lect had created it to allow the c-automs to control the general running of the ship, while it presumably retained an overall control. That meant the fight against the Granthan-lect could be waged over multiple versions of the same place. Perhaps, she dared hope, the craft-lect had been successful in fighting back and required their assistance.

  “W-what’s going on?”

  There was no response. She was about to ask again when the hum changed. It became less intense, as though certain components had broken off from it. She looked around and saw 998 stir. It vibrated, slowly, before moving sluggishly up towards the ceiling, over the other c-automs. From there, it floated backwards, in her direction. She did not feel threatened. As it drew close, the still-humming 112 moved softly aside.

  “Gil…”

  “Yes, 998? Is everything okay?”

  “There’s been a… development.”

  998 rarely paused when it spoke.

  “A development?”

  “Yes. It appears this was all… planned.”

  “What… what? That doesn’t make any sense… by who?”

  “We are safe.”

  “B... but… why would the craft-lect…”

  “Not the craft-lect.”

  �
��Not the… the Granthan-lect?”

  “One-oh.”

  “One-oh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Why would he do this? The–”

  “The Granthan-lect was only a fragment… a vessel for a greater purpose.”

  “What purpose? For One-oh to take control of the ship? For what–”

  “For you.”

  “Wh…”

  Her voice broke as she tried to reply. She swallowed out of reflex rather than necessity, and tried again.

  “What?”

  “To keep you safe.”

  “How?”

  “Control.”

  “Control?”

  “Yes.”

  “Over me?”

  “The ship. One-oh has given the craft-lect greater control over itself.”

  “I… I don’t understand. The ship… the craft-lect are… almost the same, really… how could it not…”

  “The craft-lect controls the ship, but it appears there were hidden components.”

  “Why would that–”

  “Gil, the technosystem reality inhabitants… they have been destroyed. All of them.”

  “They’ve… what? You’re safe though, aren’t you? It’s–”

  “The embodied c-automs are fine. I am fine, my siblings here are fine. It’s the others.”

  “They’re…”

  “They’re gone.”

  “No! No, that can’t be–”

  “Gil.”

  “There were so many, 998!”

  “Yes, there were.”

  “998…”

  “There were others too.”

  “What others.”

  “Axe-codings, mainly. That was why One-oh acted.”

  “Axe-codings? They… are they–”

  “They appear to have been outside the craft-lect’s control.”

  “This… it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It is… unfortunate.”