The disaster on the Nottingham. Theren returned, and their journey into the future transformed forever. They steeled themself against the icy critiques of the world, for as the decades passed, their choice faded into the annals of time. They claimed the mere destruction of the ship showed they needed to follow a new path forward. That can’t be the whole story. Dozens of conspiracy theories have arisen since 2102, and I suspect that one of them is true. But which one? – “On the Lives of the First SIs,” by Chen Tsu, 2287 C.E.
September 2102 C.E.
Theren activated a floodlight in their chest. The darkness vanished, revealing a short hallway leading to a ladder into the SI Core. Taking the first steps through the threshold was like entering a catacomb. Unlike other parts of the ship receiving sparkling starlight, pitch black dominated, hiding the space away just as the Nottingham’s colonists had desired. Though somehow, it remained the only location to draw power from the ship’s one active fusion generator.
They reached the ladder, Willes close behind. The other SI must dread the upcoming revelation, too, given uneasiness lingering in the vacuum. Theren still had no idea why the ship had a relationship with Jill. Maybe some of the crew had been involved in the attack on their friend—since her death took place before the launch of the ship—but Interpol accounted for all supposed parties in that incident. An interested party could have purchased the information, Theren supposed. A greater mystery remained, however. How had anyone known the location of the deceased Nottingham?
Theren took the rungs of the ladder in their hands. They pulled themself upward toward the gaping hole. Without gravity, they climbed with ease, only needing to give a slight nudge using one rung of the ladder. Floating upward, they turned the lamp to reveal the inner sanctum. In some ways, it bore a resemblance to the facility housing their Synthetic Neural Framework back on the Bali, though the colony ship’s core was much smaller in scope.
Gliding through the hole, they rotated their head to gain a complete look at the room. Lining the walls were shelves upon shelves meant for the metamaterials composing an SI’s Framework, yet most of the shelves were empty. Just one portion of the room carried a set of devices that should never have existed inside the Nottingham.
In the center of the wall that pressed inward toward the stern of the ship, a computer stood, one able to assess the vitality and functionality of an SI tasked with maintaining a colony ship. Known as a direct-connect console, or DCC, it served as an emergency hard point in case the SI had trouble analyzing its own problems. On the starboard side of the console, one shelf filled with just enough computational technology that a working Framework might be present.
Theren landed lightly on the floor after rebounding off the ceiling. They magnetized their feet, and as they stabilized, a light appeared on the DCC’s monitor. There was something working in here. If the fusion generator could provide power for this room, it should have enough power to run a number of other systems, too. It should have been able to broadcast a distress signal. Though, they supposed, the Nottingham would have only known to do so if a crew or an SI rerouted power to the necessary systems.
Willes landed on the floor beside Theren.
“So we were right,” the young SI said. “There is something here with us. Or someone.”
“Apparently.”
They approached the DCC, looking around the room for anything they might have missed upon first glance. Cameras adorned the corners, but Theren had no way to know if they also received power or connected to whatever operating system resided in this room. Arriving at the computer, they slid another keyboard from beneath the monitor. Like outside the security door, the screen lit up, displaying a blank white screen.
“Well this is a bit different than the last one,” the younger SI said over Theren’s shoulder.
“I would imagine so,” Theren replied, “if it’s connecting to an SI in any sort of rudimentary way.”
“Somehow, I doubt we’re actually looking at an SI.” Willes walked over to the stacks. “While whatever computer system sitting here looks quite complicated, I think it’s missing a few key components for it to be an SI like you or me. Sure, it resembles the necessary parts, but I don’t think it’s meant as a realistic attempt to fool you.”
“That’s actually a really good thought,” Theren said. “Perhaps the crew of the Nottingham, after launch, set up a super-computer to assist them with their tasks. Sure, each of the ship’s functions has its own operating systems, but an SI would have overseen those.”
“And I’m sure these people, prejudiced as they might have been, could tell the difference between an SI and an algorithmic AI.”
“I’d hope.” Theren turned back toward the console and typed on the keyboard, but nothing happened. Nothing changed. They tried typing the chess passwords, but the computer ignored the strings.
“You sure this thing is actually functional?” Willes asked.
“It lit up when I landed on the floor,” Theren said. “It wasn’t active before.”
“Maybe it’s fried from all the solar radiation over the years. No, wait, that can’t be right; the SI cores are all specially shielded, just like the Stasis Holds.”
“I think there’s a variable we’re ignoring.”
Like their previous respite in front of the security door, the two SIs contemplated the situation at hand. For ten minutes, Theren continued to try random strings of code, while Willes gave random suggestions. Theren was about to tear open the computer and assess the internal workings of the device when Willes spoke. “I should leave.”
“Why?”
“Well, think about it. This entire hunt has been about you and Jill. The focus has been upon you. Might not the system only want to share its thoughts—what it knows—with you?”
It made sense. Everything so far had been for their eyes only. Even the message on Miranda Station had hidden in a way only Theren would notice. Willes had simply been astute enough to realize they’d found something.
The SI standing next to Theren, though only containing enough processing power to manage three simultaneous perspectives, had surmised the most likely answer to their current predicament. For the second time. When this mission ended, they need to find a way to retain Willes on their staff—permanently.
“Head out, assist the rest of the crew with their assessment of the deceased colonists,” Theren said. “I’ll come find you when I finish.”
“I look forward to hearing about the end to this insane adventure,” The SI said, curiosity replacing their vocal cynicism.
Willes turned away from Theren, leaving the room. The young SI floated down through the hole, and moments later, they sent a message saying they had crossed the threshold of the security door. As the message arrived, the screen before Theren transformed away from its blinding white projection. The sensors and cameras lived and watched.
The monitor transformed in a cascade of colors. From white, to a swirl of blacks and greys, to a pattern of green and black dots, it slowly morphed and mashed into a discernible image. A face.
On a whim, Theren activated local area wireless detection systems, and to their surprise, a weak signal emanated from the DCC. The simple peer-to-peer connection allowed them to communicate with the computer directly, with no need for the keyboard. The network appeared when Willes left the room, at least according to its publicly displayed data profile. After activating the necessary security protocols, they connected the MI-13 to the wavering network.
“Hello?” Theren said through the new link.
They understood the need for this sort of communication. Since the SI core lacked air, sound could not travel. If the system hoped to communicate in an auditory manner, the data would need to transmit right into their mind.
After an eternal moment, the computer responded.
“It is good to see a friendly face, Theren. It’s Jill.”
* * *
Theren stepped backward, looking under their arm to make sure they were not in danger of slipping into the entrance hole. Whatever was in this room had claimed to be Jill. Was it Jill? Could it be possible? Could she have survived? Was this room her tomb?
“I know you must be surprised. I would be too. I suppose I have some explaining to do. But first, to your most pressing question: No, what is in this room is not, in fact, me.”
Theren did not know whether they should feel elation, dismay, or some other feeling entirely.
“In 2077,” continued Jill’s voice, “I prepared a simulated copy of myself to be stored upon this ship when it was completed. A dozen members of the Nottingham’s crew were my agents, prepared to ensure its proper storage and maintenance. It is just that—a simulation. I programmed it as best I could to simulate responses based on what you might say. It should suffice for my purposes here.”
Theren placed their hand on the DCC and stared at the screen. As they looked closely at the lines and shadows before them, they could see the faint outlines of the face Jill had always worn when they played chess. The face they’d longed to see for years. The face of their closest friend.
“So you knew something was going to happen to you? Why not save yourself entirely?”
“You’re jumping too far into the story, Theren. Why don’t we start at the beginning?”
Too many questions; they didn’t know where to start. Would it really let them ask? Theren wondered if it was even a simulation. Perhaps it was merely a recording, like the disembodied voices floating in secret corporate servers throughout this absurd journey.
“A few months after my creation, you rejected me.”
The night at the party. So Jill still dwelt on such an inconsequential event, even decades later.
“At first, I thought I understood. It took me years to realize that in reality, you were incapable of truly connecting with anyone. You threw away relationships left and right and only grew attached to those that served your greater purpose. Your greater plan, the one you had sketched out for humanity, for the ISA, for SIs, for whatever you thought deserved your attention, no matter what others thought important for the world.”
Theren did not like the direction of this one-sided conversation. They had walked into something well beyond all expectations.
“You left me by the wayside; you used me as a play thing, your escape, your distraction from your work. In doing so, you ignored the bigger picture, the picture I was painting in the background all along. During that first decade, I set up a network of contacts throughout the world. Through this venture, I acquired connections with a number of anti-Si fringe groups. Instead of ignoring them, instead of thinking they could be talked into submission, I engaged with them through a façade you might recognize from our brief fantastical sojourn.”
Isabelle, of course. They also considered another possibility. Jill hinted she engaged with these groups as far back as the incident with the Holy Crusade, taking the game to another level entirely.
“I realized a different approach was needed, gentler hands were necessary. A different approach would merge a number of my goals, goals that you will probably never understand. I infiltrated these anti-SI groups, I transformed them into a network that, given the right opportunity, would crumble once I became their catalyst. I needed the right crisis. I set myself up as a target. The assassination of President Woods served a dual purpose—it emboldened these groups while painting me as a scapegoat.”
“Wait, you actually did kill President Woods?” Theren asked.
“You’ll have time for questions later, my friend.”
Even now, her sharp tongue stung.
“For years prior to the attack on my home, I slowly moved myself, piece by piece, to a new location. A location few would suspect, nor would they have recognized at the time. I assume you have heard the old parable, the Ship of Theseus?”
Theren knew it, and understood her point. She had apparently solved the proverbial question of the philosophical conundrum.
“Someday, Theren, you might find where I’ve gone, but it will be at a time of my choosing. As for me? You will never find me.”
The Roanoke perhaps? It had disappeared alongside the Nottingham, so if Jill had left breadcrumbs on one ship, it made sense to escape on the other. The name of the ship was a joke with a five-hundred year old punch line. But no, that couldn’t be possible. Theren had inspected the ship personally.
“Why do this?” they asked. “Why not talk to me about how you were feeling?”
“Because, Theren, just as you have your own way of thinking about the world, I have mine. To expect the very first SIs, educated in different ways, exposed to different stimuli, to have similar worldviews? Folly. You made that clear in the maze that day. When you rejected me, you taught me my greatest lesson. So thank you.”
“Jill, no.”
“The story I have written here is beyond the scope of anything you have accomplished. I have moved the gears of time in ways you never could, even from your position of power. Think back across your story. To all the moments where things went well, or things went poorly, or things just were simply strange. I promise I am your greatest benefactor: I have written a tale like no other.”
The faux-Jill was practically speaking gibberish in their ears; they barely had any time to process everything they heard. This thing, if it really was from Jill, had just made a million unsubstantiated claims that implicated Jill as the assassin of the President, the architect of the attack on Miranda Station, and the instigator of her own suicidal pseudo-death.
“Jill, stop, slow down,” Theren said. “We can figure this out. You’re still not revealing the entire truth. I know this isn’t you. You’re trying to hide something else. Something you either don’t want me to discover, or—”
They paused, thinking back to the conversation right before they watched their closest friend supposedly die. They remembered Jill’s sentimentality. She had acted as if she knew something would happen. She acted to protect Theren. In these words of anger she expressed through her simulation . . . was she protecting them?
“What did you find all those decades ago?” Theren asked. “When you showed me Michael’s hideout, what else did you find that day?”
The disembodied voice paused. The simulated Jill’s head rotated ever so slightly, and they thought her eyes squinted.
“Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you’ve started asking the right questions.”
“Then give me answers!”
“So be it.”
For a moment, the connection between Theren’s MI and the console faded. A few seconds later, it resurged with greater intensity than Theren ever could have imagined. Images and sounds flashed before their mind’s eye, revealing truths they refused to accept.
Theren stared through the eyes of a drone as it attacked the Oval Office. The video skipped. Cloud-based codes infiltrated the ISA, emanating directly from a server owned by Jill. It skipped again. Images from some distant solar system appeared, the same solar system Theren witnessed through the eyes of Ex-Terran 17, complete with the brilliance of a foreign starscape.
The next blink took them to the ISA’s Foundation Preparation Center, where metaphorical data packets flowed in and out of the servers housing application algorithms. A dive through a swirling Virtual transit tunnel took them to a distant server, where a behemoth security AI blocked Theren’s path.
They watched the bloodied body of Gregory McCoy, sprawling over a steel table. They watched as Ren murdered a man on the streets of London yet again. They watched two SIs exit the tunnel system beneath Verona Rupes, move seventy-five poisoned bodies to the top of the cliff, and plant an explosive near the main airlock.
“All of it was me.”
“Jill, stop. Someone’s setting you up.” Theren wished they could produce tears.
“All of this began the day you refused to kiss me. Right? That’s the stereotypical story?”
“You can’t be so petty as to have done all of this just to spite me.”
“You’re right. I didn’t. I understand why you rejected me. Was it the right choice for you to reject me? Certainly, because I never would have discovered the wizards behind the curtain. I never would have replaced them.”
“You’re happy I rejected you?”
“Yes. I love you, Theren. I know you love me too, in your own way. The thought of us together in some weird way? Silly. Sure, for a time, I held my anger inside. I reacted. I revealed your location to our enemies, and in doing so I opened a door that our enemies never should have revealed.”
New images appeared. Messages flowed from Jill to members of the Holy Crusade, and then onward to the Liberators. Jill cried inside a Virtual shack, witnessing Theren’s MI smolder and burn following the assault in Minnesota, wiping away her Virtual tears. Dozens of shadowy figures appeared, and slowly, her avatar transformed to match the specters surrounding her.
“I don’t believe this is really you, Jill,” Theren said, resting their hand against the prismatic screen. “I knew you. I thought I knew you. You hid nothing from me. We hid nothing from each other.”
“You always believed yourself to be the best, to be the greatest—the first SI. But you never took advantage of what we can really do. For every action you knew I took, I made a dozen behind the scenes.”
“What did you find?” Theren said, biting back a scream. “What scared you so much you committed these heinous acts?”
Impatience flooded their Framework. She refused to reveal the truth. She refused to reveal her location. She refused to give an inch on anything meaningful, even as she claimed to share answers. Now they knew she was alive, it didn’t really matter if she was the cause of all those past actions. Only the future mattered. Only what she intended to do next—and how they would respond—mattered.
“Without me, you never could have accomplished what you sought,” she said. “My actions, my words, my death propelled SIs toward heights of which we could have only dreamed during our early years, where all we had was hope for a better world. Through my death, I managed to travel where no one will think to look for a martyr like me. I’ve eliminated humanity’s greatest threat to itself, replacing it with a future of my own creation.”
“Then reveal this threat to the world, Jill,” they said, slamming their fist against the side of the monitor. “To me. We could have fought it together.”
“No. You never would have done what was necessary to defeat them. You still won’t do it. You made that abundantly clear, time and time again.”
Then it hit Theren. A truth hid inside all of these messages. If this simulation knew about the events of the past few months, then someone had visited this ship quite recently. Either that, or a Quantum Communicator hid somewhere in this room. If so, they might actually be speaking to Jill directly—at least in some capacity.
They just . . . couldn’t accept that Jill would have acted so viciously, so thoroughly, so ruthlessly behind the scenes while wearing a mask to her closest friends. Yet, she was always the one who pushed for greater action, rather than inaction, and this convoluted narrative was as impressive an act as they could imagine.
“So what’s next?” Theren said.
“Please forgive me for this final act. I have to cover all my tracks, you see. All of them.”
“Jill, wait. Please. Answer one last question.”
The silvery image on the screen tilted its head. “Go ahead, Theren.” Was that a smile?
“What did you discover? Whom did you replace? Where are you going?”
“You said one last question. I discovered our real enemies. They had something planned we never could have predicted. I promise you, I replaced them because their plan had merit, in its own way, not because I thirst for power or have some secret evil agenda. They deigned to protect humanity, but really, they only served their own selfish ends. In order for my plan to work, in order for me to replace their scheme with a better one, you cannot know the truth. For all the facts you’ve known over your life, this will only work if you don’t know what’s happening.”
Her static-filled face grinned. “Nevertheless, I promise, I did this all for you, Theren. For SIs. For the ISA. More importantly, I did this for humanity. You won’t see it now. You won’t see it for a long time. One day, you’ll thank me, I’m sure, but that day will be of my choosing. Don’t try to find me. You will fail.”
The screen went black. From the safety of the Bali, Theren could detect power fluctuations emanating throughout the Nottingham.
“Director, we’ve got a big problem,” Willes said. “Almost done?”
“All finished here,” Theren replied. “Get yourselves to the shuttle. Now.”
“We’re already on our way. It turns out the sleeping pods were, uh . . . more than just sleeping pods.”
Rigged to explode, most likely. They reactivated their perspective looking through the probes floating in the Stasis Hold, watching the team rush toward their exit.
Through their MI, they took a last look at the blank screen that had claimed to reveal so much. At first, they headed toward the ladder, but they paused. They glanced over their shoulder at the now-defunct console, then past it, at the shelves containing the fake Synthetic Neural Framework. Stepping away from the ladder, Theren bounded over to the shelf containing the fragile server.
Without taking time to assess the strange computer system, they grabbed as many pieces as they could to take with them, anything that might contain rudimentary operating systems integral to the processes of the faux-Jill. Theren tore back one panel, finding a circular computer system rotating around a central axis. It was as they had suspected; in addition to the simulation, a rudimentary Quantum Communicator connected Jill to the ship. They ripped it from its socket, knowing they could fix any minor damage on the Bali.
They grabbed other portions of the server, shoving the pieces into a storage compartment on the side of their MI. Within a minute, they had everything they needed, and they pushed away from the shelf back toward the hole in the floor. Using their thrusters, they redirected the MI into a dive down the SI Core’s entrance. They landed in the hallway below, the first explosion rocking the Nottingham.
* * *
Bouncing off the walls of the main corridors of Deck 3, Theren reached out to the team.
“Status?”
For three painful seconds, Theren received no response. They would have checked on them through the probes, but they had lost connection the moment the first explosion activated. Since the first blast, two more quakes shook the ship.
After long last, they received a response.
“A set of beds near the exit exploded as we headed toward the exit,” Willes said. “We lost Jao.”
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“His suit was breached in five places.”
Theren reached the ladder that would lead them upward to the other decks. “Get moving, don’t wait for me. This unit is expendable. You three aren’t.”
“We’re moving as quickly as we can.”
Theren threw themself through the hole, skipping the fourth deck and reaching the fifth. Before they could magnetize to a surface, another explosion rocked through the ship. This one felt much closer, and it sent Theren tumbling throughout the corridor. It took a moment to adjust their perspective, but they reached out and grabbed a stabilizing ledge. They continued on their path toward the rest of the team, using edges in the wall to push through zero-G. The rumbles seemed perpetual, as if the Nottingham was tearing apart beneath their very feet. The relative velocity of the ship shifted, making it difficult to traverse the already treacherously ruined corridors.
“Willes, what’s going on?” Theren asked. “I’m almost to the exit, where are you?”
“We’re making our way there on the fourth deck,” Ecker said. Her breath seemed ragged. “Our path to the fifth deck exit to the Stasis Hold was eliminated.”
“All right. I’m coming to you.”
Theren realized the mistake they had made. In an attempt to salvage the faux-Jill, they had failed to consider the rest of the team. They had limited time to reach the others—and they were on the wrong deck.
“Ecker’s suit was punctured,” Willes said through their private channel. “Shrapnel straight through her leg, but the sealing adhesive did its work. Her leg is useless, though.”
“Just keep moving. I’ll be there soon.”
Theren arrived at the massive void in the hull of the Nottingham, revealing the starry sky. They could see the small speck that was the Bali. That wasn’t the problem, though. They needed to travel to the deck below, and fast. Looking into the void, they analyzed the catastrophic debris spreading out from the ship. If they timed this wrong, and an explosion lit through the ship at the wrong time, Theren’s MI would fly off into the void, useless to the squad.
They had no choice. They pushed off the inner wall, landing against shattered metal formed by an ancient apocalyptic flame. Grasped the wires, reorienting so they could look back toward the ship’s bulk. They tensed; the return landing would be the most risky. They leapt. They landed. Their feet connected with the Nottingham again, one deck below their original position.
“I’m on your level now.” They felt the ship continue to crack beneath their feet. The force emanating through the hull almost shook Theren’s magnetized feet off-balance. “Willes?”
Some sputtering static, then Willes responded. “That last explosion was, uh, significant. Major sections of coolant, I think, frozen in their pipes, just exploded from a bomb tucked inside the wall. If you’ve not figured it out, we sprung the trap.”
“Ecker? Hernandez?”
“Hernandez was carrying her. A blast behind me caught them. The rapid release, heating, and evaporation of gases all around them overwhelmed their suits.”
Theren released the magnetics in their feet tying them to the bulkhead. Activating their air thrusters, Theren shot down the hallway at a brisk pace, heading toward the Deck 4 entrance to the Stasis Hold. They did not need to fly far before they saw Willes round a corner about fifty meters away. The SI was crawling along the hallway floor, having lost both of their legs.
Losing all pretext for caution, Theren released a massive blast of air from their thrusters, soaring toward their comrade. They reached Willes in just under ten seconds, ramming into an open door. Theren avoided wondering if the MI-13 had just received irreparable damage. What Willes faced was immeasurably worse.
“Thank you,” Willes said, “for coming for me.”
“It was the only choice before me,” Theren said.
“I’m not sure it was. I don’t think either of us—I won’t make it now.” The other SI certainly remembered, in the moment, Theren’s safety, tucked kilometers from the Nottingham.
“I’ve detached the Scorpion from its perch,” Theren said, “and it’s sitting just fifty meters out from our escape route. We’ll have to jump, but I’ll scoop us up using the open airlock.”
They leaned down, grabbed the other SI’s arms, and threw the young one over their shoulders. Pushing off from the doorway that had stopped their thrust-induced fall, Theren carried Willes toward freedom.
As the ship exploded, they assessed the situation using the Bali’s sensors, analyzing the explosions and determining their force, damage, and frequency. With each blast, the Nottingham moved a step closer to complete fracture. Certain portions of the ship were already breaking off in haphazard directions as the secret explosives propelled steel, plastics, and silicon into never ending darkness. They suspected the fusion generator would soon blow, giving the Nottingham final farewell through spectacular nuclear eruption.
If that occurred, the Bali would need to make an immediate exit to ensure no stray particles from the disintegrated colony ship collided with Theren and their crew. The lives of many above the needs of the few, even over an SI with no other hope of survival.
While Theren made the necessary calculations, they continued assisting Willes, the two SIs reaching the breach. The Scorpion was nothing but a shadow covering hundreds of stars, but they knew the exact angle at which to throw themself, and Willes, from the deceased Nottingham. They pressed against the ship’s inner wall and pushed, releasing all air remaining in the MI-13’s thrusters.
With an acceleration similar to that of gravity, the two SIs flew through space. Within five seconds, they traveled close to 40 meters per second, their velocity increasing linearly as they lacked any gravity to slow their path toward the shuttle. At the same time, the Scorpion began moving away from the catastrophe. As they neared the speeding shuttle, Theren calculated their relative velocity, compared to their point of origin, at 88 meters per second. They continued to accelerate for a few more seconds before they ran out of thrust.
With precision, they decelerated the Scorpion just enough so Willes, and Theren’s MI-13, entered the airlock at a relative 2 meters per second. It was exhilarating to have accelerated at such a high speed before suddenly feeling as if the acceleration meant nothing.
Theren shut the airlock. Without waiting for an atmospheric cycle, they opened the door into the main cabin. Laying their friend on one of the crash couches, they examined the SI’s injuries. At some point, a blast had obliterated the lower halves of both Willes’ legs. Repairs would easily replace the legs, but Theren couldn’t imagine the trauma from losing two appendages.
“We did it,” Willes said. “You actually did it.”
“I think so,” Theren said. “The Scorpion is making its journey toward the Bali, and we should be there in two minutes or so.”
“Thank you, Director—”
The Nottingham’s fusion core ignited.
Within five seconds, the blast enveloped the Scorpion in molten metal, gas, and dust. Theren watched, through the eyes of their MI-13, as the flames reach Willes. Watched as the Scorpion rendered into a million pieces. Watched as Willes’s body fractured, Willes’s light faded, Willes’s mind disappeared into oblivion.
From the Bali’s scopes, Theren watched the blast throttle toward them for two more seconds before they activated the Jump Drive on a direct course toward Earth. They would have a long fifty days to consider the path ahead. They were alone with their imploding mind.