Chapter 3
Does Not Compute
The Galileo was well over one kilometer in length and one-third that distance in width and height. Most of that space was dedicated to the ship's cargo bays and its ore processing and refining facilities. The equipment was mostly automated, leaving the crew only three decks designed for them to roam about freely. Deck 1 was located at the top of the ship, comprising the hypersleep facility, crew's quarters, the infirmary, the conference room, and the main bridge. Proxima's duty station would normally be at a science lab or observation deck, but the Galileo was not a science vessel. He followed Yun and Scott to the main bridge. Everyone else headed to the lower decks.
Like most of the ship, the main bridge was cramped, well lit, bleak and impersonal. The front and sides were lined with windows, but they only showed a view of closed bulkheads. During hyperspace they were closed for safety reasons. The robotic sentry gun turret loomed above the entrance, its targeting camera activating briefly to track Proxima and the Captain as they entered. Scott made his way to the command console in the centre of the bridge. Yun took the helm console and donned a headset. Proxima also put on a headset before sitting at the sensor control console next to her. Some models of androids were equipped with internal radio transmitter/receivers, but the 128-2 series didn't have that feature.
His first step was to outfit an exogeology probe with a complete scientific imaging array. The Galileo didn't have a complete array on board, but the probe probably wouldn't be able to support it all anyway. Designing the necessary modifications was simple enough, only requiring a few minutes of Proxima's time. Applying his designs would be done by the maintenance droids on deck 2. Upon inputting his instructions to the computer, a live video feed from one of the cargo lifters in the shuttle bay appeared on his display. The lifter took a few minutes to perform a self diagnostic and activation routine, and then sluggishly moved itself across the roof towards a parked probe. In the feed Proxima noticed another lifter moving towards a parked ore hauler, under Yun's direction.
"Hey Proxima, let me know which probe you're planning to use, so I don't move it to the cargo bay with the rest of this junk," said Yun.
Proxima checked the lifter's display and recited the code listed under "Transponder ID". For the robots' sake, all the machines and equipment had an ID code. During the mining operation, the machines broadcast their codes via radio so they wouldn't get lost in space.
"Thanks," she said. "Too bad we've got to keep the bulkheads shut, I wouldn't mind having a bridge with a view," she added while she worked.
Proxima looked at her curiously. She knew perfectly well that even if it was safe to open the bulkheads during hyperspace, there would be nothing to see this far out. Then it occurred to him that she was making what Dr. Crease referred to as "small talk"; inconsequential conversation that some humans opted for over a silent environment. Not knowing how to respond, he simply nodded and went back to work.
While Proxima supervised the droids, Yun periodically engaged him with additional conversation. That intrigued him; he had worked closely with her during the initial stages of the mining operation, but all of their conversation had been in a professional context. The droids only needed occasional prompting from him, so he decided to attempt this small talk. He wasn't completely inexperienced, having conversed with Dr. Crease before. He seemed to be performing it well, until she asked him if he preferred to have a view of space in the bridge. Before he could even consider a response, they were interrupted by Lt. Hagen on their headsets.
"Look alive people, weapons are ready. All personnel report to the weapons locker."
Yun jumped out of her seat. "It's about time," she said. "What about you Proxima, are you joining us?"
Proxima shook his head. "My human life preservation directive forbids me-"
"Machines don't carry weapons," Scott interrupted sharply. "Proxima, you stay here and monitor the droids. Yun, with me."
Yun frowned at the Captain, but he was already gone. She glanced at Proxima ruefully. "Try not to run into any intruders while we're gone," she remarked before leaving the bridge.
Again Proxima was at a loss. Unable to fathom her meaning, he returned to work.
x x x x x
"Is that the best you can do?" demanded Wallace.
The weapons locker was located in a smaller maintenance facility just outside engineering on deck 2. The Galileo's entire arsenal of firearms was strewn about a greasy workbench – which really didn't amount to much. There were tranquilizer guns, nine-millimeter pistols, and only one flamethrower.
"I'm afraid that's it," said Lt. Hagen. "The other incinerator's damaged, I can't repair it."
"Hold it, hold it," Carnes interrupted, noticing the rifle she had hanging from her shoulders by a harness. It was sleek and compact, but looked very heavy. A tactical display module was also mounted on the stock. Unlike the rest of the weapons strewn about the table, her rifle looked well maintained and very modern.
"What the hell is that?"
Hagen placed a protective hand on her weapon. "This is an M35-D laser rifle. Don't worry it's designed for combat on starships. The discharge won't rupture the hull."
Carnes whistled in awe. "Since when did we start getting supplied with top of the line military hardware?"
A smirk touched the corners of Hagen's mouth. "We didn't. This is a personal souvenir of mine."
Wallace didn't look impressed. "Begging your pardon sirs, but how come you two get to carry around the heavy arms while we're all alone down here with pistols?"
"What's the matter Wallace? Need someone to hold your hand?" Yun asked derisively.
"Hey, easy for you to say Yun, you're all tucked in nice and tight on the bridge with a fucking sentry gun covering your ass," Wallace shot back. He turned to Hagen. "Let me have that rifle, you should have nothing to worry about on the bridge."
Hagen shook her head. "Sorry Wallace, you haven't got the training."
"Come on, that's bullshit. How much training does it take to point at a hostile and pull the trigger?"
"Wrong Wallace," she said sternly, "the only thing more dangerous than a loaded rifle is an operator who doesn't know how to use it." Wallace was silent, but he did not look pleased.
"If you're that worried about your safety Wallace, you can have this." Scott passed the flamethrower to him. Wallace still didn't look terribly pleased, but he said nothing more. Scott and Yun took pistols. Dr. Crease took a tranq gun. Carnes pocketed a pistol and an extra clip, then after a moment's consideration took a shock baton and hung it over his belt.
"Stocking up for world war three?" Crease quipped.
Carnes ignored the comment, but gestured at his gun. "Is that all the heat you're packing? What if it's not enough?"
The doctor shrugged as if it were of no consequence. "Then I guess I'm out of luck. I took an oath remember?"
"Alright people," Scott announced, "let's remember there's still no sign of intrusion anywhere on the ship, so let's try not to go off half-cocked and shoot each other in the foot okay? The paperwork's a bitch." Everyone chuckled at that.
"Dismissed."
x x x x x
Proxima's modified sensor probe resembled a four-legged metallic spider. It was not equipped with thrusters for flying. Its magnetic legs were designed for spacewalking. Finding the impact site proved somewhat difficult, as he had to navigate the probe in near-complete darkness. After several wrong turns, some undetectable force began to interfere with the probe's systems. The unresolved interference grew stronger the closer it got to the site, but the probe held.
Once the machine was in position, he spent the next hour attempting every scanning technique he knew of. The object barely responded to light, did not respond at all to radio signals, even ionizing radiation had no effect. A distorted optical profile was all Proxima was able to discern. The picture was of better quality than the whisker cameras could provide, but not by much. The object appeared to be cone-shaped. The sharper end was apparently embedded in the hull, the other end was spherical. Its overall size was equivalent to an ore hauler. There were no identifying markings, no sign of any form of propulsion system or weapons, in fact no external structures of any kind.
Proxima was just about to hazard moving the probe closer, when Captain Scott informed him that Wallace and Carnes were ready to begin extracting the object, and ordered him to move his equipment to a safe distance. From the clearly audible chatter in his headset, Wallace and Carnes had chosen to use one of the "flatbeds" - spacecraft designed to grapple onto and remove large obstacles. Operations of this nature conducted during hyperspace were tricky, but not particularly dangerous. Nevertheless, the flatbed would be controlled by remote.
In the meantime, Proxima accessed the lateral sensor array's logs for the Galileo's entire return trip, from the moment they departed the Tau Ceti system to the collision. Operating on Haddock's belief that the collision was deliberate, Proxima checked the entire log for signs that they were being followed, to no avail. He expanded his search to include before their departure, without any results. He leaned back in his chair, attempting to organize his thoughts.
"No luck?" asked Yun. Proxima shook his head. Captain Scott came over and checked his findings.
"Come on Proxima, is that all you've got?" he demanded in a belligerent tone. "You're supposed to be a science officer, what do you think you're here for?"
Proxima suddenly found it difficult to maintain his professional demeanor. "The object does not respond in any way to our imaging…" he tried to explain.
"Can you tell if that's by design? Are they deliberately jamming our scanners? Or don't you know that either?"
Proxima shook his head helplessly. The Captain glared at him for an uncomfortable moment before speaking again.
"Get down to deck three and give Crease a hand with that quarantine facility then." Seeing little point in remaining, Proxima nodded.
"Come on, move!" Scott barked harshly, startling Yun. Quickly as possible Proxima darted out of the bridge.
The Captain noticed Yun was scowling. "Is there a problem?"
"You tell me." The navigator gestured at Proxima's empty workstation. "Was all that really necessary?"
"Just do your job," Scott said dismissively and returned to his chair.
"Yes sir," Yun grumbled under her breath.
x x x x x
The shuttle bay was very large, its ceiling lined with rails for cargo lifters. It consisted of three sections divided by airlocks. The first was the flight control room, which was typically kept pressurized. The second was the hangar bay. The third section was the space-facing launch platform, at one end of the bay. The huge cargo bay doors were at the other end.
By now Yun had finished moving all the parked spacecraft from the hangar bay. A large section along one of the walls had been cordoned off with safety pylons and yellow tape. Within, several droids were erecting a box-shaped enclosure of metal scaffolding and hard plastic. A human-sized alcove had been built into the finished wall of the enclosure – a makeshift decontamination facility. Proxima found Dr. Crease nearby, working from a portable terminal.
"Hi Proxima. What brings you down here?" he asked. "I thought you were stationed on the bridge."
"My efforts were unproductive," Proxima replied. "The Captain sent me to assist you."
"Did he now." He sounded skeptical.
"Doctor?"
"Nevermind. You might as well prep the hazard suits in case they're needed."
"Yes doctor."
They worked in relative silence for a few minutes before Proxima decided to ask a question. Crease was really the only crewmember who had any patience for Proxima's social inexperience.
"During the briefing, you asked Mr. Carnes if he wanted to observe the speed at which you could assign him to the infirmary. What did you mean by that?"
Crease looked at him oddly. "Observe the speed, assign to the… what are you talking about?" Then his expression changed. "Oh, that. Well I wasn't talking about reassignments."
"What did you mean?"
"I was talking about," he paused, his expression one Proxima didn't recognize. "I was threatening to hurt him. But I wasn't actually going to do it, even if he was being a jackass."
Proxima silently assimilated that. Crease was a doctor, sworn to do no harm. He carried a non-lethal weapon, yet he was threatening to use violence?
"Look we all got a little hot under the collar back there," he added, as if hearing Proxima's train of thought. "I'm sure we all said things we didn't really mean."
"Hot under the collar? You mean angry?"
"That's right."
"Because you thought your return to Earth would be delayed?"
"Exactly."
Proxima nodded. His original hypothesis about the crew's erratic behavior during the briefing was correct, but some doubt still lingered. For humans, superfluous statements seemed applicable to expressions of both disdain and anger. He wondered how many other emotional contexts were expressed in that fashion.
"I believe the exchange also left me feeling hot under the collar," Proxima mused.
Crease's bushy eyebrows went up. "Really? I'd read the 128-2 series had emotional capacity, but I didn't really believe it. How many emotions have you felt since your activation?"
"I do not know. These emotions are difficult to isolate and quantify. How do humans understand them?"
"Well, it's difficult to explain," he began, when they were interrupted by their headsets.
"Shuttle bay, this is Scott. Doctor, what's your status?"
"I'd say in another two minutes or so, the containment facility will be finished. Once the object's inside, give another five minutes for the droids to seal it in."
"Captain," Proxima spoke up, "I recommend we decompress the hangar bay until the object is sealed off. Vacuum could limit any possibility of contamination."
Considering the way Scott had addressed him on the bridge, Proxima wasn't sure if his recommendation would be taken seriously.
"Affirmative," Scott answered, surprising Proxima. "Report in as soon as the droids are finished."
"Say, are you really going to go into that thing?" Crease asked.
"Those were my orders." Proxima suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Doctor, I was wondering if…"
"I could cover you while you do your sweep," he answered, finishing Proxima's sentence. "Don't worry, I'll be there."
Proxima felt his discomfort fade. "Thank you doctor."
x x x x x
For the most part, Haddock became dormant once the crew had awakened. His authority was limited to routine ship functions; he could make only minor decisions without prompting the crew. He still felt the ship as his own body, but the areas reserved for the crew became numb to him. He yearned for the freedom of the crew's return to hypersleep.
On this occasion, Haddock felt additional numbness from the collision damage. Until the crew repaired it, that area would remain numb to him. It did not concern him though – his thoughts were preoccupied with the object. It intrigued him; would it be an artificial intelligence like himself or the android Proxima? Would it be autonomous, or was it a steward for biological entities like the humans?
At the same time, something about the object disturbed Haddock. Since he had no proof of the object's true origin, continued speculation would be an inefficient use of his system resources. Nevertheless, Haddock found that the object was in his thoughts with an improbably high frequency. It was the same sensation he felt concerning Proxima. Perhaps he and the object had similar properties.
Haddock initially suspected he might be infected with a virus. But aside from a negligible drain in his random access memory, none of his vital processes were affected. He was not accustomed to dealing with ambiguity, and dismissed his unease as a minor memory fluctuation.