The Hoon processed the message, concluded that an answer would constitute a waste of time, and moved to the matter at hand: While its counterpart, Hoon number two, possessed all the same defenses that it had, the other entity shared the same vulnerabilities as well. That’s where the soft body came in. The trick was to use the biological without allowing the human to know it had been used. It might balk otherwise, or even worse, obtain more data than it was entitled to have. “There is a task that you will perform.”
Jepp noted the apparent lack of courtesy but knew there was no reason for an alien artifact to observe social niceties appropriate to human culture. Besides, the Hoon saw everything that existed within the structure of the fleet as falling within its domain, and the human was forced to agree. If the AI wanted him to do something, Jepp could either comply or face the not too pleasant consequences. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, if I can help. ..”
The Hoon seemed oblivious to the human’s words. “The unit through which I am communicating will escort you aboard vessel 179621 where you will be asked to perform a simple maintenance procedure. Once the task is complete, you will be allowed to return here.”
“You can count on me,” Jepp replied, determined to sound positive. “I have one question however... If the maintenance procedure is so simple—why can’t one of your robots take care of it?”
“You will perform a maintenance procedure,” the computer reiterated sternly. “You are leaving now.”
“Okay,” Jepp said, getting to his feet. “No need to get your processor in a knot... Allow me to get dressed, grab some toots, and we’re out of here.”
The onetime prospector hurried to pull some fairly clean overalls on, selected some of the tools salvaged from the Pelican, and stuffed them into a pack. “All right your supreme Hoonship .. lead the way.”
But the AI had more important things to do than stand around and wait while the somewhat sluggish biological wrapped itself in fabric. That being the case, it was Alpha who replied to the human’s comment. “The supreme intelligence will meet us later.”
“God is the supreme intelligence,” Jepp growled. “The Hoon is a pain in the ass. Well, come on, let’s get it over with.”
Sam, the Thraki robot, cartwheeled across the cabin, transformed itself into something that looked a lot like a spider. Then, climbing quickly, the device took its place on Jepp’s shoulder. The three of them left together—but it was Alpha who led the way.
Vessel 179621 glowed with the same shimmery force field that gave the Sheen their name. Like Hoon number one, Hoon number two could project itself to any ship in the fleet, but if its intelligence could be said to reside anywhere, it was aboard that particular ship. For it was there, within a carefully secured compartment, that its various components were located. Having been alerted to expect a biological and asked to render an opinion as to its usefulness, a very small portion of the AFs total consciousness tracked the incoming shuttle, noted its arrival, and monitored the creatures that disembarked.
There was an all-purpose unit similar to thousands on board the ship, an alien construct of no obvious value, and the biological that Hoon number one had warned of. An inquisitive creature who seemed headed for the very compartment in which number two was centered. That observation was sufficient to generate a low-level threat warning and to focus more of the computer’s attention on the visitors and their activities.
As with all Sheen vessels, 179621 was equipped with a multiplicity of surveillance devices. Some took the form of tiny silicon imaging chips that had been “painted” onto the bulkheads. The computer preferred infrared to video, however, which meant that what it “saw” looked like a bipedal green blob. It seemed intent on approaching number two’s sanctuary. Why?
Hoon number two sent a message to number one, ran into an electronic wall, and became immediately suspicious. Pathways were verified, systems were checked, and a second attempt failed just as the first had. The AI jumped to the logical conclusion: The other half of itself had severed their relationship and declared the electronic equivalent of war!
A biological might have waffled, might have questioned its own judgement, or been hesitant to take action. Not number two. The second Hoon went to the highest state of alert, directed fifty robots to intercept the intruders, and locked itself in. Monsters roamed the corridors ... and the computer was scared.
Servos whined as Alpha moved down the passageway.
Jepp’s shoes squeaked when they came into contact with the deck, and Sam nattered in the exprospector’s ear. Insofar as Jepp could tell, this vessel was the twin of the one in which he had spent most of his captivity. That being the case, he was familiar with the basic layout and could have navigated on his own, right up till the moment when Alpha approached a heavily armored hatch. The human was familiar with the door, or its analog, but had never been able to open it. One of Alpha’s armlike extensions whirred as it telescoped outwards, made a clicking sound as it mated with some sort of receptacle, and was immediately withdrawn.
Air hissed as the barrier disappeared overhead, a whiff of ozone found its way into the human’s nostrils, and they were in. “I didn’t know you could do that,” the human said, as he followed Alpha down the brightly lit hall.
“It can’t,” Hoon number one replied, “but I can. Now listen carefully because there are limits to how far I can go. Robots wilt be sent against us, I will neutralize most if not all of them, while you proceed to the goal.”
