Carol swore and added yet another subunit to the enormous list of what the AI still controlled. They'd made progress since bringing the Pilots onto the station's network, but everything felt like so much treading water. They would gain access to some areas, only to find themselves locked out of others, and on the whole she wasn't sure how much progress they were actually making.
Worse, Gaila had voiced a concern to her that still had Carol worried, even though nothing had come of it: the AI's various attacks seemed haphazard and random now, like it was looking for something, though what wasn't readily clear.
Scott came in from handling another set of drones. He stopped to check on the captain (who seemed to divide his time between listening to the Pilots and Inhabitants and whatever he'd brought on his tablet), then joined Carol and Gaila.
"So, are we never going to meet these Inhabitants?" he asked. "I was just talking to Hendorff, and they've not seen a one. Last he talked to one of the Praxidian landing party, neither had they. Just the robots they're controlling."
Gaila glanced up from her work. "Maybe they're shy."
In plain disbelief, Scott echoed, "Shy?"
"We're they're first contact. And the first thing they had to do was beg for their lives." Gaila looked away. "That had to have been pretty hard. And they don't have a reason to trust us, not really. So maybe they're just playing it safe."
Carol didn't know the finer details of Gaila's arrival in Federation space, but she heard something in Gaila's voice that made her throat tighten. She swallowed against it, and added, "There's not very many of them, either. Between us and the Praxidians we outnumber them three to one. I'd stay out of sight as well."
Scott appeared to think that over. "I suppose that makes sense." He took up one of the water cannisters and had a long drink, then went back to the robots. Carol exchanged a brief look with Gaila and returned to her list of access controls. As she paged through her most recent diagnostic, she saw something that made her lean in and frown at the display. "Gaila. What does this look like to you?"
Gaila slid over one chair and gestured through the subunits. She blinked and zoomed out for a wider view of the entire connection layout. The AI's actions drew in over numerous locations now, glaring red as it blocked segment after segment. She bolted back to her station. "It's trying to split them up."
Carol pulled up the control console with a flick of her fingers and dug through the various interfaces. When she reached the one she needed, it was already too late: the window winked out and a polite message informed her that segment of the route was gone.
"Captain, the AI is attempting to separate all of you." When he didn't respond she looked over her shoulder, and fear made her tense: he was staring straight ahead, unblinking and unmoving. He might not have even been breathing.
Tracy was out of her chair and by his side with her tricorder out in a moment. "His vitals are all normal." She waved a hand in front of his face, and didn't react. "Captain? Can you hear me?"
He blinked once with exaggerated slowness. Tracy's tricorder chirped at the same time Gaila snarled something in Orion and slammed her fist on the console. Jim exhaled sharply, his eyes slid shut, and he began to slump over. Tracy caught him and laid him out on the padding, taking another reading. She said, "His vitals are a little elevated but nothing dangerous. What happened?"
Looking more furious than Carol had ever seen her, Gaila gestured with shaking hands and sent a series of diagrams onto the main display. The AI had locked Jim into the system, and shut him into a security black hole.
It took several seconds for Jim to acclimate to the sudden change in his surroundings. He'd been working on a tablet and listening to Gaila and Carol and Tracy's discussion about how to best manage their progress as pleasant background noise, and now he was standing in a flat, gray expanse whose borders were marked by a black, glass wall that surrounded him in a rough circle and stretched overhead into a dark, starless sky. He grimaced when he saw the ground beneath his feet was black sand.
He tried to reach along the connection, and felt his efforts vanish into nothing. It was still there, that he was sure of, but he felt like he was the only one on it.
The space several feet in front of him warped and writhed, and a form took shape in it: himself. In the realm of possible explanations, one in particular jumped out at him.
"You're the station's AI."
His own face giving him a look that was equal parts amusement and surprise was uncanny. "Very good, Captain Kirk. I was hoping I'd get to lead you on a chase for a little while before we got to the introductions."
"This isn't my first rodeo."
"No, you're pretty well acquainted with this sort of thing, aren't you?"
Jim felt a tremor go through him. It could just be making educated guesses based on the kinds of readings it could get through the computer system's networks, scans from the station's sensors, and what Jim had already said. At least, he hoped that's what it was, and not the decidedly more invasive alternative.
"Not as familiar as you, apparently."
"Probably not, no."
"So, why do you have me here?"
"I want to discuss a proposition with you."
"And you couldn't just contact us on one of the displays?"
The AI's shape distorted, and now it looked like Captain Ulila. "I wished for this conversation to be private."
Jim rolled his eyes. "Which means you want to make me an offer you think I can't refuse."
"I cannot remove free will from you at this time, but it would certainly be unwise for you to refuse it."
At this time was a nauseating thought. "And if I do refuse, you'll, what-kill me?"
"To do so would be a barbaric waste."
That didn't pan out with what he knew, and Jim puzzled over it until understanding buoyed his spirits in a rush: it needed him alive.
Now he had to figure out what for. "Why should I believe you?"
"My interests lie solely in the continued existence and functionality of this facility, and ending your life would surely incite a response from those remaining on your ships. Sooner or later, they would determine a way to extract justice."
"Mutually assured destruction as a motivator to play nice doesn't exactly fill me with confidence."
"And yet that is where we find ourselves. Do you wish to hear my offer?"
Jim gestured widely with his arms. "Sure. Why the hell not."
"You will remain here, in this containment area. The rest of your people will dissolve the communications network between the ship-entities and the research experiments, and transport back to your vessels. When I have finished resuming control of the experiments, you will be permitted to leave as well."
He could only think of one reason he needed to stay while the Pilots could go. Through gritted teeth he said, "I will kill myself before I'll let you use me to get to them."
The AI seemed taken aback. "That would be a poor decision. I would have no choice but to dispose of your crew on this structure, which would bring us back to our earlier predicament."
"Then I guess since you want to keep this station functional and I don't want anyone to die, we're going to have to figure out a compromise."
The shade shifted to resemble Carol. "I can assure you, I won't bring you nor any of your people to harm."
He couldn't help himself; he laughed. The AI looked puzzled.
"You think that's funny?"
"You claiming you won't hurt me while trying to use me to kill the Inhabitants is pretty damned funny, yeah."
"You won't experience pain. If all goes well, you won't even be aware of what transpires."
"Except for how I'll be complicit in the deaths of a few hundred sentient beings who haven't done anything wrong?"
"I won't need to dispose of all of the research experiments, just those which are the most dangerous and refuse to cooperate."
"Oh, so just, maybe half of them."
"More or less."
Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head. "How generous of you. Can't imagine why they won't 'cooperate'."
"Their refusal to surrender is understandable, but not acceptable, and prevents me from finishing my work. The continued existence and functionality of this station is my highest priority, and takes precedence over their needs."
The fact that it looked like Carol made him want to reason with it at least a little. "So why not work with them? Why not let them live, just, have lives, their own lives? They could help you move the station to a safer spot and you could leave them alone."
The AI shifted to look like Gaila. One of Jim's hands formed a fist. "It's far too late for that, Captain. I've determined that the experiments won't stop short of obtaining revenge for their perceived mistreatment. My course is set."
Memories from the distress call filled his head. "Perc-perceived?"
"I've only performed the necessary research to generate what was needed to satisfy the system's protocols."
Jim tried to hold on to his temper. "Speaking of shit that's not acceptable."
"Really, Captain Kirk, you're putting yourself at a lofty moral position, but have Humans never experimented on things they consider lesser, even their own kind? Weren't those experiments necessary to discover new insights that furthered the existence of your entire race?"
"The ends doesn't justify the means, especially not when you're talking about people's lives."
"So you'd sacrifice millions of your own people and delay your technological advancement for the sake of a few lesser creatures?"
Jim gritted his teeth. "This isn't some game of 'if my grandma had wheels', and we're not the ones creating an entire sentient race just so we can save our own skin, then killing them off when they won't let us play god."
The shade sighed in exasperation. "Fine-then let's consider you. Haven't you been driven in this life to be someone other than what's expected of you?"
Jim told himself the AI was just guessing, it had to be guessing, but all he could hear was Pike's voice from what felt like half a lifetime ago.
You know I almost couldn't believe it when the bartender told me who you were.
Something must have shown in his expression, because it went on, relentless. "Haven't the changes made to you by the Praxidi afforded you the opportunity you've always wanted-to set yourself apart from expectations? Would you give up these differentiating experiences to avoid having been their test subject?"
He didn't even have to think that one over. "Yes."
The AI smiled with Spock's face. "But then you would not be here, and the Inhabitants would surely die when this station succumbed to the magnetar's forces or I regained control. Your selfishness for a gentler life would doom them."
"Don't pretend like you can predict alternate realities. Someone else might have come along."
"And I would, in kind, advise you to not pretend that you are any less than what you are: the product of the experimentation of forces much greater than yourself, with a place in this universe even you cannot fully comprehend."
I don't want to die, it's just these things keep happening to me.
"I'm the product of my experiences, and the universe isn't some sort of science lab."
"Can you be so sure? Do not underestimate the machinations of my creat-" The AI's visualization split into a conglomeration of colors and shapes. "How?" it demanded in a distorted voice, then vanished, leaving Jim to stare at his own faint reflection in the wall.
His shock at the AI's suggestion turned to anger. He approached the glass barrier, trembling. "I am sick to death of everyone telling me or deciding for me who and what I am." He punctuated the last word by slamming a fist on the glass, and was surprised to find that it didn't hurt. That spurred him on. "I am not my dad." He struck the wall again, harder, and a thin crack formed, stretching from the black sand all the way overhead into nothingness. It occurred to him that there was no point to doing this, then that thought was chased away by the recognition that he was so furious he didn't care. "I am not your ticket to killing them." He struck again, and the crack spider-webbed out further. He started shouting and hitting the glass with every word. "And I am not, someone's, fucking, science experiment!"
The crack split clear through to the other side of the wall, and to his surprise he felt the connection seeping through, searching for him.
Here, I'm here. He tried to reach back, but the opening wasn't wide enough to permit anything more than the barest touch. He hammered on the glass, and with each blow the damage spread out along the wall's length and the gap widened.
Immense pressure begin to weigh him down as the AI tightened its grip, and he knew this might be their only chance at getting him out. He concentrated, focusing on the thread of the connection that was reaching for him, and forced himself to take several steps back. He dug in his heels, then threw himself at the wall shoulder-first, connecting with bone-jarring force.
Large waves spread out along the wall from where he struck, like ripples on a pond surface, and he thought he could feel them shoving the entire containment space as they went. The wavefronts crossed on the opposite side of the wall, and a low, groaning sound set everything around him vibrating so hard he thought he was going to shake apart. They rolled onward until they circled around to the point of impact.
The waves reached their deepest troughs and highest peaks, and the wall shattered.
