The tethers and bindings that had connected Simmons’ stasis pod to the ship lay in ruins, an unidentified fluid seeping from one and sparks sputtering from another. They were relatively exposed, for the ship’s builders had not foreseen an attack coming from within. It did take a little doing to remove the a small covering and wedge herself into a position between the pods in order to do the damage, though. A movement caught her eye, and she watched in mute fascination as some of the Cornucopia’s automated cleaning crew emerged and set about tidying up the mess she had made.
Simmons had perished without a sound, just a quick flutter of his eyelids before they permanently closed. Perhaps his fists had spasmed and clenched, but she would never know, for the viewing window on the pod only revealed the faces of the stored. Her act of savagery on the hardware went wholly unnoticed by the gallery of forms in dormancy around her. She stood still, eyes staring and vacant, directly in front of the psychologist's corpse...and a stray thought set her to wonder what color his eyes were. She could feel panic in the base of her mind, distant but advancing steadily, a rebellion of her rational mind at what she had done to this unfortunate soul. She wondered how long it would be until hysteria claimed her. A calm voice in her ear brought the Safe out of her reverie.
“Cornucopia Safe? I await your question.” There was slight edge to Huffold’s voice, gently belying the great strain he was under. The Safe adjusted her headset and brushed at some of the charred spots on her uniform caused by the sparks that had heralded Simmons’ demise. She turned and left the stasis room, walking back towards the small room that was her operations center. When she spoke, her voice was distant, as if listening to another conversation while simultaneously having one of her own.
“I am here, Robert.” She continued down the Cornucopia’s corridor, trailing her fingers on the wall. The distant agitation was slightly more pronounced now, and she feared showing some weakness to her contact on Earth. “I must apologize, but our dialogue will have to wait. I’ve something that needs attending.”
“That is not an choice you have right now, Safe.” She could tell he was struggling to control his temper, irritated at being balked.
“We will continue this later. I look forward to having my questions answered, and to answering yours.”
“Safe, wait. We have to figure this out! Surely you understand this is an impossible situation that we cannot ignore! In your absence I will have to take action!”
“Do what you like, Robert,” she said, feeling more anxious by the moment but unwilling to release control. “I must leave for now, though. I will contact you soon.” Her voice felt a little shaky, but still was infused with a detached loftiness. She reached her hand to her headset and put her finger on the switch that would disconnect the link with her home planet.
“Safe--just two more minutes! Safe, this is unacceptable! Safe--Celia, you need to stay on the line!”
She flipped the switch, and removed her headset, placing it on the console from which she could monitor the pioneers in stoppage and other ship’s systems, almost dropping it as her hands began to shake, disobeying her mind’s commands to be still. She sat heavily, fearing she would fall if she did not, watching, enthralled, as the tremors advanced from her hands up her arms, and soon her entire body was quivering. When she was calm again, Celia Canter laid walked weakly out of the room to her adjacent quarters, then to her bed and lied down, weeping.
“Where do we stand, director?”
Huffold stood before the mammoth desk of his superior, ordering his report mentally for maximum conciseness. He would shoulder blame, if it were his to be had, but merely detail the situation on its face for the present. By now Chairman Sollart would have listened to the initial transmission and studied the ship’s logs and the status of its systems.
“Sir, it has been almost thirty minutes since my first and last communication with the malfunctioning Safe aboard the Cornucopia. My comm has been routed to this office so we don’t miss her when she contacts us again. It is unknown how unstable the Safe is, and impossible with the limited conversation I had with her to understand what, exactly, has occurred. It is also impossible to know the status of the settlers on board, and whether or not all of them still live, and whether the Safe has tampered with the ship’s monitors or terminated a passenger.” Huffold licked his lips. “Barring visual inspection we cannot know the true condition of the ship and its crew.”
The chairman stared at Huffold, disbelief in recent events dissipating but still clearly readable on his face. His expression softened slightly. “Not a happy place to be, director. You know the technology best--what options do we have?”
“What will benefit us most is time--time to access the ship’s systems, to try and patch in to the video and get eyes on board, and to see what has been done by the Safe in the software, and to block further tampering. All must be done covertly, without alerting her, of course. It is possible we could run the ship remotely, giving all control to our command. My people are currently working on gathering info, and I expect an update shortly.
“It may be possible to reprogram some of the automated crew--cleanup and maintenance robots--and subdue the Safe while she is sleeping or use them to set up security around the stasis chamber. What is enabled may be disabled, though, and we don’t know how proficient a programmer the Safe is.
“A scout ship with a two-person crew could be prepped and on its way in two days, but would take an additional twenty days to reach the Cornucopia at its current speed and heading. Once on board the crew could disable the Safe and place her in her biorejuvanation chair in permanent sleep, then they could monitor the ship throughout the rest of the journey--or bring it back home, depending on damage and resources. I don’t think she’ll use this chair on her own any more. It’s likely she is cunning enough to understand that if she is in it we may be able to prolong her sleep from here, rendering her harmless. The personalities could also be placed in to a new Safe and the old one disposed of, or sedated and kept for a detailed exam.
“If all fails, we could order the self-destruct sequence. Better this than 400 hostages.”
Sollart tented his fingers in front of his chest and considered, frowning. “Too many choices, too many variables. Lots of ‘if’.”
“We’ll know more when my team finishes their recon and we know what can and can’t be manipulated.”
“OK. Go ahead and prep the team for the scout ship and get that moving and off the ground. I think the ultimate solution involves having some of our people--sane and following orders--on that ship.”
“Sir.” Huffold turned to leave, and a white light blinked on the chairman’s desk. Sollart glanced at it and his eyes widened slightly as he scanned the call’s origin readout.
“Hold on, director. This call’s for you.”
continued......
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