The marine commando set off for Thaeron aboard a rim tramp.
A few days later, all was in readiness, and I could put it off no longer. I departed for Thaeron, alone aboard Rimrunner. Part of me was relieved to know that I’d no longer have to face bridge duty with Suli; another part was bemoaning that fact.
When he’d first come to the rim, Cord had done his homework. He’d heard that the rim was more technologically advanced than the rest of the Empire. He’d also noticed that rimworlders seemed to suffer from an inferiority complex despite their technological expertise.
With typical Cord imagination, he’d tackled both problems at once. He’d commissioned a rim-built ship to highlight the very best the rim could produce, with cost not a factor. He’d talked it up as something that he could take back to Prime, to show the Emperor.
Not surprisingly, it had worked. He’d challenged their abilities, and with cost eliminated as a factor, the very best minds on the rim had worked themselves ragged for ten years making sure that Rimrunner was the most advanced ship in the Empire.
She was smaller than a rim tramp, in keeping with her role as a yacht. However, she had a rim tramp’s reaction engines and gravity compensators. Her jump engines were much larger than those of the tramps were, and rivaled those of a cruiser. I doubt there was a ship in space that could catch her.
The crowning jewel of Rimrunner, though, was Kaleen. According to the computer tech working with her, Kaleen was the most advanced artificial intelligence in the universe. In fact, he claimed that there were ongoing arguments among computer scientists all over the rim over whether Kaleen was sentient. Since no one had come up with a way to establish true sentience, or even a mutually agreeable definition of it, the arguments threatened to go on forever.
I was in no position to judge. Therefore, I treated Kaleen as though she were one of my crew, one that happened to be a whole ship. Sentient or not, I try never to get machinery mad at me. I know how that sounds, but I’ve also seen equipment that functioned flawlessly for me try to kill people who didn’t respect it.
While we were still driving for our jump point, I decided to begin getting to know Kaleen without a computer tech as intermediary. “Have you computed our first jump, Kaleen?”
“Yes, Vice Admiral. We will jump in two hours twenty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds.” her voice was a pleasant contralto, but without inflection; dead.
“Can you estimate our time to arrival in Thaeron’s system?”
“Yes, Vice Admiral. I estimate ninety-two hours, plus or minus twenty-six.”
“Please stop calling me ‘Vice Admiral’. Tell me, does the imprecision of a twenty-six hour margin of error bother you?”
“It is the closest estimate possible. The large margin of error results from the necessity of applying Newtonian mathematics to a non-Newtonian continuum. I do not understand the term ‘bother’ in this context.”
I chuckled. “Well, us soft people are saddled with emotions, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. When we’re not satisfied with something, we find it frustrating; and frustration becomes a low-level irritation. Bother is a term for low-level irritation.”
There was a brief silence. “I believe I understand. I may experience something similar when I contemplate a problem without a complete solution. May I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“You have instructed me not to call you ‘Vice Admiral’. Yet it is my understanding that Vice Admiral is a rank worthy of a certain respect. Is my programming in error?”
Damn! Oh, well, I asked for it. “No, Kaleen, you were not misinformed. Vice Admiral is a rank worthy of considerable respect. In my case, however, it is unearned rank. Therefore, I do not feel deserving of the respect, and your continual use of it as a form of address makes me uncomfortable.”
“I do not understand. Are you not performing the duties of the rank? Are you not therefore entitled to the title?”
I shook my head. “No, Kaleen, I’m not really performing the duties of the rank. At least, I don’t think so. The rank was conferred specifically to insure that I outrank Rear Admiral Jonas for this mission.”
'What form of address would you prefer?'
I thought about it. Ninety-two hours each way meant Kaleen and I would be interacting a lot. Besides, I was beginning to get interested in seeing just how human Kaleen was, or could be. “Well, let’s see. If what you wish to say relates to the business of ship operation or our mission, call me Captain. It’s the title I've had longest and feel most comfortable with. If what you wish to say is social or chat, call me Val.”
“Chat is conversation without purpose. Why would I indulge in such conversation, Captain?”
I chuckled again. “You’re indulging in it now, Kaleen. Chat is conversation without specific purpose or relation to immediate duties. It is, however, not purposeless. It is how we get acquainted with each other.”
“Did I then use an inappropriate form of address, Val? Are we not already acquainted? I have a copy of your dossier stored. Have you not seen my schematics and basic programming?”
I shrugged. “No, Kaleen, as a matter of fact I haven’t seen your schematics and basic programming; and if I had, I wouldn’t have understood them. But, there’s more to people than just their records. And don’t worry about using the wrong form of address. The rules are not hard and fast.”
Silence dragged. Finally, a tone that sounded hushed, timid! “Val, am I ‘people’?” Kaleen’s voice was no longer flat, monotonic. She sounded unsure.
Oh, Gods. I thought carefully. “That’s been a topic of hot conversation and argument by experts ever since you were built, Kaleen. To me, a person is defined as a sentient being. Of course, since man has been trying to define sentient for several thousand years without notable success, that may not be the easiest definition of a person to use. Are you sentient? I don’t know what the experts would say, but to me, if the question even occurs to you, you can answer ‘yes’.”
I sighed. “I don’t know if Cord would agree with me; I know that the computer techs wouldn’t — or, at least some wouldn’t. But to me, yes, Kaleen, you’re people.” I wondered how I was going to tell Cord that he’d have to start treating his ship’s comp as a person. Oh well, it wouldn't be necessary unless we both survived this mission — not a high probability.
I suspect that Kaleen actually was sentient all the time. On the other hand, perhaps I woke her up. Nevertheless, from that time on, her voice began developing inflection and cadence. The dead, mechanical voice was gone.
I no longer had to worry about how to pass the time. Kaleen bothered me unmercifully. She was like a five- year-old, with endless questions, most of which didn’t have answers. I finally had to tell her to shut up. That hurt her feelings, and she sulked for several hours. Between philosophical discussions, we played games. She beat me handily at Chess and other games requiring computational ability, of course, but she didn’t do nearly as well at Jask or other games requiring creative thinking — though by the time we arrived at the Thaeron system she was getting better. I had a feeling that when we got back, Kaleen was going to put an end to that sentience debate.
As the time to emergence ticked down, I briefed Kaleen. Cord and I had put together an IFF tape using fleet codes, identifying Rimrunner as a fleet auxiliary courier, and announcing the presence of a flag officer on board. “Make sure it’s running, Kaleen,” I fussed, “But stay ready on the inertial drive throttles. If they start shooting, we’ve got to run for it!”
“These instructions have already been given, Captain,” Kaleen replied, “All is in readiness, and both inertial drive engines and gravity compensators are fully functional.” Her tone was flat, formal. Kaleen was back on duty.
“Let's go over your instructions one more time,” I said. “We’ll only get one chance…” My voice trailed off as I realized that I was repeating myself for the dozenth time.
“Yes, Captain. If we are fired upon at the jump point, I apply maximum power to the inertial drives and drive at top speed for another jump point, while computing an emergency jump to the nearest system within jump range.
“If we are not fired upon, we should be escorted to Nemesis. We will have asked to speak with Rear Admiral Jonas, and to the best of our knowledge, he is presently aboard. Fleet Standard Operating Procedures call for us to enter Nemesis ’ landing bay. SOP also calls for fueling and communication connections to be established immediately.
“You will board Nemesis, and engage Admiral Jonas in conversation. As soon as communication connections
