“And, I hope, also my friend,” I said with the thoughts of my mind; but at the same time, my mind was saying: “Die a terrible and painful death, you evil fucking murderer! ”
I had learned, from Sharrock, three key principles of warfare: Know your enemy, cheat your enemy, and always fight to win.
And though Sharrock’s rebellion had failed, mine I was sure would succeed. For I planned to make myself trusted by the Ka’un, indispensable to the Ka’un; and then to betray them, as they had betrayed the Sails.
My treachery was total; for I knew how to lie with my mind.
And thus, I began plotting how to overthrow Minos and all his Ka’un kind.
It proved difficult, however-even more difficult than I had expected-to get Minos and his people into a situation where I could slay them.
First, I tried to lure Minos and his people down on to a planet to help the giant sentients in a battle, as they had done against the tuskers. They were vulnerable once they were off the ship and on an alien planet; and I was confident I could destroy them with my quills and tentacles, despite their power of bodily-fire.
But Minos and his crew were growing more cautious. They would not, despite my best deceptions, be lured out into the open. And I still could find no way to access their own and secret part of the ship.
So next I tried to find a way to destroy the ship from within. I explored each and every room that I could access from my cargo bay home. There were ballrooms, bedrooms, banquet rooms; this was a ship equipped for a huge crew who expected to live in luxury.
But I found no bombs, no missiles, nothing I could use to explode the vessel. The Kindred were armed with guns and rifles; but those were no use to me. The Kindred’s fighter craft were equipped with missiles; but I was too large to sit inside their cockpits, and if I picked a missile up in my tentacles I had no way of detonating it.
But I did however manage to locate a box that was used by the Kindred to send messages during their planetary wars. It was a communications device that could transmit signals between planets over vast distances, via “rifts” in space. Quipu had told me of such devices.
So I took this communications device to a private place, an empty ballroom where crystal lights hung from the ceiling and the walls were covered in wood that was black with decay.
Then I studied the device and its controls, for quite some time. I experimented by pressing several switches in various permutations; and when a light turned green I knew I had switched it on. And then I spoke.
“This is Sai-ias, can you hear me? Is anyone there?” I said.
And then I waited.
And, after a little while, a voice replied.
BOOK 10
Explorer/Jak
Explorer, what can you report?
Another barren universe. No trace of the Death Ship.
I’ve been thinking, once more, of Albinia.
She was a fine Star-Seeker.
I’m sure she was.
Better than me?
Ha!
I take it that means yes.
When Albinia was part of me she led and did not follow; her mind was faster and richer than my own; her insights more profound. When she inhabited me I was Olaran and she was machine and we both together formed a new and unified being; Albiniaexplorer.
Yeah I get it. You had the best of her.
Did you love her?
You know that isn’t a valid question; I am not capable of love.
Did she love you?
Oh yes.
Really?
Completely and absolutely; it was an emotional giving of such intensity it almost overwhelmed me. That is why I missed her so much; she was the love in me.
I guess I got the shitty end of that bargain.
I am sure she loved you too.
Do you really think so?
It is entirely possible; though in fact she never said so.
I loved Albinia with all my being; but I could never tell if she felt the same. Or if she just needed an Olaran who would… let her cry on his shoulder from time to time.
There is no way of knowing for certain whether or not she loved you.
I am aware of that. I have been obsessively thinking about this for thousands of years; did you really suppose I was not aware of that?
I was beautiful once, you know. Now I am crippled and scarred and connected to a machine.
Self-pity is not helpful; I have heard all this before.
I was elegant. My poise was exquisite.
Don’t torture yourself.
A poem? Would you like to hear a poem?
My circuits do not allow me to answer you with any candour. Nevertheless, I shall operate an over-ride: NO I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR A GODSFORSAKEN POEM. I have trillions of them in my data archive, which I access every day. Songs and lost laments and poems and novels and memoirs. All saying the same thing: pity me, I am sentient and I do not want to die.
You are a hard-hearted bitch, Explorer.
You assume that I am female.
Are you not?
The concept does not apply.
We could simply stop. Would oblivion be so bad?
It might be preferable to hearing you whine, millennium upon millennium.
Do you get bored? Or depressed? Wouldn’t you like to end it all?
I would like to end, if at all possible, your eternal yammering.
At times you sound almost Olaran. You’re pretending to have a personality, aren’t you? To save my sanity.
If my objective were to save your sanity, I would have failed long ago.
Those days are gone. I’m sane again now.
Do you really think so?
I’m functionally sane. I live for one thing only. That kind of obsessiveness is not good for the soul.
I used to have a richer life, you know. I achieved a balance between pleasure and work. Prided myself on it! Even in our days exploring space, there was always time for leisure, and games and chat. Morval and I, we spent many happy hours bitching and grumbling at each other, for such are among the greatest pleasures known to sentients. And I used to taunt and tease Phylas; and talk about philosophy with Albinia. Even Galamea, hard bitch as she was, was my companion and we knew each other; and through knowing each other became more truly alive.
Now I feel as if I’m talking to myself. You pretend to have a personality, but you have none such. You are just a computer program; and I pilot the ship through your interfaces and sensors and controls; and I am the only Olaran left in all the universes.
Can there be anything more truly I’m getting a signal.
