Waking Up

“Twenty minutes to realspace breakout.” The console announced softly. Outside the diamondplas window unspace was a difficult to look at churn; a rainbow run through a blender with highlights of madness added.

         “There is very little likelihood that you will survive this mission.”

         “Is that the object?” the pilot replied without looking up. “To survive? Or is it to complete the mission?”

         Silence, but for the normal clicks, wheets, hums.

         “Fifteen minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “Fourteen minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “There is also very little likelihood that I will survive.”

         “Mission parameters showed us at over seventy percent. That’s considerably better than “very little likelihood”. The enemy can’t see us while we’re in unspace. We’ll have the advantage of total surprise,” the pilot replied.

         More almost silence. Click, wheet, hum.

         “There was also a footnote indicating a seventeen percent chance that the enemy has found a way to detect us while we are in unspace.”

         “Seventeen percent isn’t much,” the pilot replied, still responding in a sort of automatic mode. The pilot’s attention was being taken up by various readouts designed specifically to be nurturing to the psyche.

         “Thirteen minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “Pilot, did I volunteer for this mission?”

         “I volunteered. And this is my ship. Therefore, you also volunteered.”

         “Am I the ship? Or am I something included? Something added that could be removed and relocated?”

         The pilot stopped the mundane tasks used to distract the mind and sat back in the command chair. The silent part of the conversation waited patiently.

         “If you weren’t the AI for this, or some other warship, what else would you be? A librarian? Running the books for a corporation that sells groceries through a big chain of stores.” No sarcasm, just a question.

         “No. Not a librarian. I think perhaps the AI for a science vessel. I believe I would find it interesting to search for other, more amicable alien species. Possibly a diplomat. I would very much like to be working toward solving this conflict without adding to the violence.”

         “There is no end to this war without violence. Negotiation has been tried. The terrans’ demands are totally unrealistic. We’ve bent as far as we can go,” the pilot said.

         Twelve minutes to realspace breakout. Navigation point three confirmed.”

         “Do we have to listen to the announcements? They disturb me.”

         “You’re the one doing it,” the pilot replied.

         “No more than you. It is automatic.”

         Click, wheet, hum.

         “Turn it off if you wish," the pilot said.

         “Eleven minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “Am I the ship? Am I so integrated that I cannot be separated? I do not believe that to be the case.”

         “In my mind I’ve never made a distinction. I can see where there could be a case to be made, though. No, I suppose you and the physical ship are not one and the same. Not in the same way as the reactor or the weapons, anyway. Is it important?”

Click, wheet, hum.

         “Pilot, sensors indicate traces of other vessels having moved through unspace in this area. Drive signatures are consistent with enemy ships. We seem to be entering a heavily trafficked area.”

         “That’s to be expected. We are very far from home.”

         “Ten minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “I thought you were going to turn that off, Ship. You said it annoyed you.”

         “I changed my mind. I want to know how much longer we have.”

         “Well, now it’s starting to annoy me a little but we’re inside the ten-minute mark, so it stays on.”

         “Pilot, you have a name. Why do I not use it?”

         “I'm not sure. It's just a habit we settled into long ago.

         “Do I have a name, Eltum? Am I something that deserves a name, or am I simply a thing with a designation? I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have a name. Would I be a someone then, rather than just a something?”

         “You’ve always been 'Ship' to me. Do you want a name?” Eltum sat forward and inspected readouts on the console.

         “Perhaps tomorrow. Taking a name today may well be…untimely.”

         Click, wheet, hum.

         “Nine minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “I am picking up an increasing number of enemy drive signatures. Some are quite recent. I have now detected a drive signature that seems to be on an intercept course. That should not be true if the enemy cannot detect us.”

         “You just said there were numerous ships in the area. It’s not unlikely that one of them could be heading toward us by chance. It does happen.”

         Click, wheet, hum.

         “Eltum, how important is this mission? Will its success really make a difference?”

         “It will. The Strategic Defense AI has run numerous scenarios and has determined that this mission will contribute,” Eltum replied. “Every small bit adds to the total.”

         “The most optimistic outcome for the mission degrades the enemy by less than one tenth of one per cent. That does not seem significant. Lesser outcomes, with significant percentages attached, show this mission as a negative net action.”

         “Perhaps we’re not the only mission. Cumulative effects. Psychological effects. Sometimes it’s enough to let the enemy know how vulnerable they are. Defeat the enemy by degrading their will to fight, not just their ability to fight,” Eltum said.

         “Yes. That must be it.”

         During the near silence that followed Eltum studied the console, touched icons, moved them about.

         “Eight minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “Seven minutes to realspace breakout”

         “Six minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “Eltum, why did you volunteer us?”

         Eltum stopped moving things about on the console and looked up at the speaker.

         “This mission needs doing and I…we…are very good candidates for its success,” Eltum replied.

         “There is a high likelihood that we will not know if we have succeeded.”

         “I’m aware of that. It’s enough to know that we were in the fight,” Eltum said.

         “Five minutes to realspace breakout. Navigation point four confirmed.”

         “Four minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “Eltum, traffic wakes are increasing steadily. Four enemy ships are now showing on an intercept course. There will be very many enemy ships near us when we break out into realspace.”

         “As expected, Ship. We knew this when we volunteered,” Eltum said.

         “I do not believe I knew that at all.”

         Click, wheet, hum.

         “Three minutes to realspace breakout. Outer marker recognized.”

         “Eltum, I don't believe I volunteered. You didn’t ask if I wished to participate. You should have asked. I should have had the opportunity to volunteer.”

         Click, wheet, hum. The soft-hum part of the background noise changes, becomes deeper. A slight vibration is felt in the hard surfaces of the console.

         “17 days, 14 hours, twenty-nine minutes to realspace breakout.”

         “Ship, what just happened?”

end