Chapter 6
By Verbosity
The soft murmur of voices continued to be heard from other parts of the room, and across the hall she could hear an elvish voice lifted in a soft, haunting melody. In Andromeda's immediate vicinity, however, there was a breathless silence. Looking at the faces around her she saw a variety of expressions. Several of the elves that had overheard her statement displayed startlement or shock, while the dwarves were looking at her with surprise, excitement, and wonder. Gandalf was nodding slowly, his face thoughtful, as if another piece of a complex puzzle had been suddenly dropped into place.
Seeing his expression Andromeda said, "You don't seem terribly surprised."
"Truly I am not." Gandalf replied, his eyes meeting hers. "It explains several…oddities I had noticed."
Before she could inquire what he meant, Golin found his voice again. "You were created by the Valar Lady?"
"No, not by the Valar. I'd never heard of them before I came here. I was created by…" Andromeda blew out a breath in exasperation as she tried to find the proper explanation. "That is a question with a very complicated answer." She raised a hand to indicate herself. "This body was created by one person, using designs of someone else, but I existed in another…well, several, other forms before that."
Confusion was evident on the dwarf's face.
"To put it in simple terms, this body was created by one person, but my mind…" she paused for a moment then continued. "…my spirit, was made quite a bit before that." She gave them a little smile. "Trying to describe my other forms is not something I think I'm going to try to do quite yet."
"Ahh." Gimli spoke up. "This is why you are strong and hardy enough to fight the Ring-wraiths; you were made to be tough, like a dwarf!"
Andromeda grinned at the tone in his voice. The appreciation, even admiration in it encouraged her to take he explanations a little farther. "You could put it like that, though I'm not made of the same stuff as you." She raised her arm. "My flesh isn't like yours, what it consists of is more like the things you pull out of your mines than it is like your flesh and blood."
"Metal and stone Lady?" The nearby elf that asked had a puzzled expression on his face.
How do I explain plastics, polymers, and nano-structured materials? She thought. "Think of it as metal and stone that have been made to be like flesh, and we're getting…sort of…close."
She could see from the expressions on most of their faces that they did not understand, but then she had not really expected them to. Gandalf however simply looked thoughtful, giving her the suspicion that he understood more than anyone else. She remembered his earlier comment about having origins "very different from this" and resolved to ask him exactly what he meant later.
"So why did they make you as you are?" Aragorn's quiet voice came from the shadows of the pillar to her left. Andromeda turned her head toward him, unsurprised by his presence as she had heard his approach minutes before, and listened as he continued. "I do not wish to offend you Lady. The creation of a person would not be an easy task for any being, and yet they wrought an extraordinary thing in you, and have made you exceedingly fast and strong." His eyes met hers, questions in them. "To what purpose?"
In the space of an instant her neural net, brought up various reasons for her construction and purpose: the Commonwealth protocols stating the necessity of AIs on High Guard ships, the need of the Andromeda's crew for the extra pair of hands a ships avatar would provide, those reasons, and more besides. In that moment, she recalled her own words to Dylan after she had been forced to destroy the Balance of Justice: We're attack dogs, we're killers…But the answer she finally decided on was that other, better, part of herself, the part that made her proud.
"My job is…was…to protect and serve the Commonwealth. It's what I am, why I was created. I did many different things in the course of service, but that was my main function. I was an officer of the High Guard."
"An officer of the Guard," Aragorn murmured, his voice and mien thoughtful. "A warrior protecting this…Commonwealth." He seemed to be thinking out loud as he said, "And so, coming to this place from your home, the first action you took was to protect those who needed it."
Andromeda gave a little self-deprecating shrug. "The urge to protect is sort of built in."
He nodded and she looked around at the people near. The dwarves seemed eager, and almost bursting with questions. Gandalf simply sat quietly, a warm and reassuring presence at her right, taking everything in and, she had little doubt, coming to all the right conclusions. Of the elves, those near enough to be listening to the conversation wore varying expressions. Some of them seemed almost disturbed, others thoughtful, and a few of the dark haired, gray eyed ones seemed more fascinated than anything else. She spared a moment wondering how the Hobbits would react when they heard. She hoped they would take it well, Andromeda found she rather liked their cheerful company.
* * *
The charnel reek that hung in the air of the lower levels of Barad-Dur bothered the orc not at all; he found the smell pleasant even, as it filled his lungs. His breathing was quick as he hurried down the dark smoky corridor, lit only by the red glare of torches, and it became even faster, fueled by fear, at the booming, vibrating, howl echoing up the stairwell he passed. Giving a shudder of fear, he considered the things being bred down in the lower levels of the tower. Many of the orcs that made the trip down there did not come back up.
His task however did not take him downward, merely to the one who was in control of the breeding pits, if one could use the word merely in relation to such a being. The orc knew very little about that personage: only that he was a man, and that this man terrified him more than any in the service of Sauron save the Nazgul.
In truth the man was a Black Numenorean, sworn to the service of Sauron, and master of his craft. A breeder of nightmares and things out of the forgotten ages of the world, in his menagerie there were horrors not seen since the darkness of the pits of Utumno, whence Morgoth bred the first of the Werebeasts, Vampires and Dragons.
It was to this One that the lone orc hurried, bearing a message, and a description. Entering the room, which the man occupied, an unreasoning terror nearly overwhelmed conscious though, and the orc almost bolted from the room at the sight of the abomination caged in the center of the room. Between the door and the cage stood the man, his back turned to the door.
Hearing the orc's entry the man turned slowly, his eyes coming to rest upon the cowering creature. He was tall, dark of hair and eyes, with noble features. He would have been considered handsome, but for his eyes. It was not that they were malformed, damaged, or ugly; it was that they were utterly empty. Looking into them one saw a vacuum, devoid of any spark of humanity, conscience, or spirit. The darkness had consumed them all, long ago.
It was several minutes before the orc left the room, and as soon as it passed the threshold it broke into a run. As it returned to the upper levels of the tower it wondered, briefly, why the Dark Lord was so interested in a single woman that he had given her description, and instructions, to the man he had just left behind. The orc shuddered as it remembered the sudden…something…that had sparked in the twin voids of the man's eyes as it had finished delivering the message.
Even a thing so vile as the orc could not help but feel a trace of pity, however brief, for whoever the woman was.
* * *
Andromeda had talked and answered questions for nearly two hours. She was very careful in how she explained things, careful to be general in many of her explanations, getting specific only in the details she thought they would understand. Until, finally, Gandalf came to her rescue.
"Enough, enough." Gandalf said holding up his hands. "You will quite wear Lady Andromeda out with all your questions. There will be plenty of time to converse with her another day. It is getting late, and some of us have much to accomplish tomorrow."
Gloin inclined his head to the wizard, and turned to Andromeda, "My apologies if we are being too inquisitive Lady. Your beginnings are in some way similar to that of the seven dwarven fathers, and to us that makes you quite a wondrous being, even apart from your unique nature."
Andromeda shook her head, "It's alright Gloin. I've enjoyed speaking with you. Some of the places I have been to have had a good deal less…enthusiasm for what I am."
Gandalf was rising to his feet. Looking down at Andromeda he said, "Please walk with me. There are some matters of which I would speak with you."
Taking their leave of the company gathered around they started toward the doors.
As they moved away from the hearth Gandalf gave a low chuckle, "The dwarves are quite taken with you my dear." There was a twinkle of the laughter still in his eyes as he spoke. "I don't believe I have ever seen the dwarvish nature warm to anyone quite so quickly. They are usually slow to give their friendship and trust, though once you have it, it is steadfast as the mountains."
As they left the Hall of Fire she caught a glimpse of Aragorn standing behind the chair upon which Arwen sat, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they listened to the elven bard. Gandalf, who walked beside her, followed her gaze. A soft sigh escaped his lips. Curious as to what it meant she looked inquiringly at him as they passed into the hallway.
There was both sadness and joy in his eyes as he replied to her glance. "In the ages of the world there have been two joinings between the Eldar and the race of Man: Tuor and Idril Celebrindal, and Beren and Luthien. In those joinings there was both great love and terrible grief, and my heart tells me that it will be the same for Aragorn and Arwen."
"Tragic love." What had amounted to a pleasant mood abruptly evaporated, and Andromeda gave a laugh that held absolutely no humor. "That is a subject I know more about than I ever wanted to."
Gandalf's eyebrows lowered and his brow furrowed with concern, as he perceived the painful, almost bitter tone in her voice. Taking her arm he steered them thru a door and onto one of the many balconies of the house.
The night was cool, and they stood in silence. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, and the ever-present sound of falling water filled the empty space.
Gandalf's gaze searched her face, and his silence gently encouraged further comment.
Unable to meet his eyes she turned to face the night and stepped up to the balcony's railing. Haltingly she began, "There was another of my…people… His name was Gabriel." She looked down at her hands, resting on the railing. "I told you that I have other aspects of my self, other selves. His other self turned out to be insane and to protect everyone I had to…" Her voice caught, seemingly unable to continue the thought, and when she continued there was terribble pain in her voice. "I loved him. I loved him…and I killed him."
She reflected that one of the curses of being an artificial intelligence was that she remembered everything, perfectly. So that when she remembered, the memories and emotions came rushing back, undimmed by time. Unlike with humans, time did not heal wounds; it only gave her more experience dealing with them.
A gentle hand rested lightly on her shoulder as Gandalf moved to stand next to her. His voice was gravelly, soft, and aching with sympathy. "I am so very sorry for this pain you bear."
Her eyes closed at the emotion in his voice and her head turned a little toward him. "Sometimes, I almost wish that I had never met him, rather than…" Her voice fell off into silence.
"That what?" His voice was still soft. "Than have lost him? Would you rather you had never loved?" There was such intensity in his voice, as he continued, "No. Never wish that Andromeda. I cannot think of a more terrible fate." A gentle pressure on her shoulder turned her toward him. "To love is to bring something infinitely precious into the world. And though you were forced to take an action that could be wished upon no one, trust that there was a reason, and that all will be for the best. This was the promise given by Iluvatar: that all things will, in the end, work toward the betterment of the world." She opened her eyes to look into his blue gaze, and found the kindness in his eyes comforting. "And if that is not comfort, then think on this: death is an end to nothing, and though some may last the length of the world, no separation is forever."
Andromeda found herself unable to answer, but the logical, and somewhat cynical part of her personality thought, we don't know if AIs even have souls.
Gandalf seemed to sense that she would not accept his answers now, so he simply gave her an understanding smile and, gently squeezing her shoulder, let go.
"But, it was to speak of other matters that I have brought you here," he said. Speaking now in a more normal voice.
Pushing aside all of the memories and emotions brought to the fore, Andromeda turned more squarely to face him.
"We have conversed for long hours over the course of the last few days," he said, his face becoming grave. "Yet there is a subject I have avoided, as I wished to understand more of what, and more importantly, who you are. Some pieces of these events I have no doubt you have already begun to guess, and I know that you have sensed other things. Yet I do not know what you understand of it." He looked searchingly at her before he continued, "Do you know what Frodo bears?"
Her thought immediately jumped back to her speculations on the object carried round Frodo's neck, and her sense that it was central to the events she was vaguely aware of transpiring around her.
"When I was at the ford, checking him for injuries, I sensed something around his neck. It didn't read like anything I've ever encountered." She cocked her head a little to the side as she looked at him.
The intensity of his gaze grew, as he asked, "Did you feel anything else from it? Did it draw you, or inspire a desire to take it, to posses it? And have you felt any of these things since?"
A little disturbed by the intense searching of his gaze she frowned, as she said, "No, nothing like that. I've felt curious about what it is, but that's it."
He gazed at her a moment more and slowly nodded. He seemed…relieved.
"Why…" she began to ask, when suddenly a number of pieces clicked together. Aragorn had told her of Sauron, the Nazgul, the story of Isildur, and of the many troubles plaguing Middle-Earth. It suddenly made sense why the Ring-wraiths would be chasing a Hobbit from the Shire. "The Ring."
"Yes. The Ring. Forged by the Dark Lord Sauron, and lost for an age. It has now fallen into our hands. A council has been called to determine the import of this and how to dispose of it. I would have you at this council."
Surprised, Andromeda asked, "Why? I'm a stranger here. I have no knowledge of things like this ring, and little knowledge of Middle-Earth. What use would I be?"
"More use perhaps than you think," he said with a trace of a smile. "Of all the beings in Middle-Earth, save perhaps Bombadil, I think the Ring has the least hold over you. Perhaps because of your origins, or perhaps it is simply your nature." He sighed, as if there was a great weight upon him. "If the council transpires as I deem it will, then there are those who will be sent to destroy the ring. Your assistance in such a journey would be an unlooked for hope."
Andromeda's face reflected uncertainty, and looking at her, Gandalf said, "You need not decide now. Wait till you hear all at the council tomorrow."
* * *
As the darkness of night gave way to the gray twilight of early morning Andromeda prowled silently through the hallways of the House, filled with an odd restlessness. Gandalf's intimations and request for her help weighed heavily upon her.
It wasn't in her nature to do nothing, and it seemed that nothing was all she could do in terms of going home. Gandalf was offering her a chance to do something, even if it wasn't getting her home.
She had come to care a great deal about Gandalf, and she considered Aragorn, Arwen and the Hobbits friends. Anything that would help them was definitely on her good list.
Examining her ambivalence, she came to the conclusion that she had an utterly irrational urge to stay near the place of her entry into this world. Irrational, because, with modern technology it would be almost as easy to find her elsewhere as it would be near to the rift.
And, she thought. Considering my lack of options for getting back. This may be home from now…until my power cell fails, and if it's home, I'm not going to let anything happen to it. "Besides," she muttered out loud. "I'm High Guard, and we protect those who need it."
The course of her wandering had taken her outside the house. Now it took her out the main courtyard entrance, and onto the bridge that spanned the river, leading to the trail out of the valley. She stopped mid-span and stood there, gazing up at the remaining stars in the slowly lightening sky, feeling the vibration of the bridge as the water thundered underneath it.
Disregarding her appearance subroutines, as there was no one to see, she stood absolutely still. She did not breath, her eyes did not blink, and all the little motions so essential to the appearance of life were absent. It was not something she did often. Andromeda was made to be indistinguishable from human, but the last few days had been so full of emotions that she had never had to deal with until Harper created her this body, that she felt the need to return a little more to her basic self.
The soft mist from the waterfall and the early morning ground fog began to bead slowly on her still form. The beads of water sparkled in the growing light of morning and at that moment she appeared almost as a beautiful life-like statue, adorned with clear diamonds, and wrapped in mist. Like a figure belonging to another place, or some forgotten age.
It was this image that Boromir son of Denethor, weary and far from home, gazed upon in the gray hours of the morning as he first laid eyes upon Imladris.
