[TheBigDog]

Perhaps it was the ritual as much as the actual cleansing. But stepping out of the shower and drying my skin seemed to wash away more than just dirt and dead cells. It was rejuvinating, invigorating, and even leaned me back toward optimism where I may have doubts. Today's shower was no different. A shower always feels like a new beginning.

Dressed and refreshed I walked the hallway toward command. It had been a long day. After such a long string of success we were bound to have something go wrong. It seemed that the fates had decided to catch up to us in spades. The engine failure had been 24 hours earier. The engineering teams had inspected all of the damaged parts, and concluded that we needed another day to complete repairs. While the engine had misfired from the damage to the hydrolic system it had not damaged the systems beyond the cut hoses and the lost fluid. Ring 1 had been irradiated across 4 modules, and the ship had taken a pretty good EMP blast, but all systems were normal now. There was still the possibility that some of the agriculture had been damaged. I just hoped our food supply was not permanently affected.

The weirdest part was the computer system. There was talk among the crew about AI. I didn't believe it myself. AI doesn't happen accidentally. And it doesn't happen without an immense team of professionals working on the details of the complex logic. At least that was my gut instinct. In any event, we had isolated the rogue program. It was still running, and we had a small group of volunteers who were playing Q & A with it. Someone was looking up how to administer a Turring test.

My biggest worries at this point were with the health of my crew. Racoon had gone nuts. He was sedated by the doctor who was running a battery of tests to try and determine what was happening to him. I was still weighing the acts he had committed. He had slashed hydrolic lines in an attempt to sabotage the ship, which may have killed the whole crew and the ship. The misfire had given TFS some serious radiation exposure that was hurting him pretty badly, but he was going to recover.

Then he had gone and butchered Kayra. He was being prepped for his second surgury and was still hanging in the balance. This was something had not ever planned on. Especially from one of our own. Hell, Racoon was part of the command staff. The leader of the agricultural experiments and our lead nutrition expert. I had know Racoon since the very beginning. He knew my wife and my kids. He loved the Prophesy and what that stood for as much as anyone did. Now he was strapped to a bed and sedated to keep him from harming himself of others. And this was totally out of the blue. We had a chemist running blood tests, but the doc was too busy with Kayra to do a complete workup on Racoon yet.

All of this weighed heavily on my mind. But first and foremost was the mission and the ship. We were drifting in space. Without the main engine we were lost. We could live for years, perhaps long enough for a rescue mission. But this was not the legacy we wanted. The ramifications of a major failure could set back space exploration by decades. We simply could not let mission failure be considered as an option. It was more than the simple matter of all of our lives. It was the hopes and dreams of humanity that rode with us into space. And it was our duty to exceed those dreams with reality beyond imagination.

As I stepped into command I could see stress on the faces. Some of the people here had been on duty for more than 24 hours. Even many of those who had been releived had stayed on to help with recovery efforts. I appreciated the vigor, but we needed to pace ourselves. This was not a sprint, it was a marathon. And nothing was so critical that we needed to rush. What we needed was to take a collective deep breath, relax, and get the job done right in the proper time required to do the job. I had taken the shower to wake myself up to take the Con. But now that we had a handle on events I needed to get the crew back into rotation. Everything would happen in its time.

I stepped up next to Janus at the rail.

"Janus, how long have you been up here?"

"28 hours, BD." The exhaustion was showing through his always professional dimeanor.

"Do we have anything hot on the board?"

"No. The final ship's assessments have just come in. I can bring them up and go over...."

"Don't bother. I have faith in the people that put them together. It there was anything that needed our immidiate attention, you would have already told me about it. It is time for you to get some downtime. Get some sleep. I don't want to see you back here for another 12 hours. Minimum."

Janus opened his mouth about to protest, but I just shook my head in refusal.

"Good work today, Janus. Get some sleep."

Janus nodded, and I might have seen a hint of relief in his face as he stated for the record, "BD has the con."

"I have the Con." Janus headed off toward his quarters. I found out later that he simply walked into his room, layed down on his bed and slept. It would be 14, not 12 hours until we would see him again in command.

"Con, I need to make a ship wide announcement," I said as I eased into my command chair.

"You are on the ship-wide PA, BD," was the response in under 2 seconds.

I cleared my throat and thought for a moment about what I needed to say. I didn't need to think about these words though. Sometimes it was just best to let the words come out.

"This is BD. I wanted to thank everyone on the crew for the hard work you have all put in for the last 24 hours. The engine malfunction that we experienced is a temporary setback. And something we will be recovered from quickly. There have been some injuries to the crew, and our medical teams have done a great job of attending to our injured crewmates. Kayra is about to undergo a second operation, and I will keep everyone informed as to his condition. Please keep your thoughts with him for a speedy recovery.

"In the mean time we need to get back to our normal rotation. In 20 minutes I want all departments to have half their crews in bed and sleeping. In 8 hours from now those who are sleeping will relieve those who are staying on duty. At that point we will resume our normal work rotation. Twenty minutes, so lets get cracking. Please coordinate through me if you have questions about deprioritizing tasks to get your crews their downtime. That is all."

I was not expecting any calls. The last thing any of this crew wanted was to appear like they needed help at anything. The hardest part about leading them was keeping them from trying to do too much at a time.

At this point Pyro was entering the room.

"BD, you should get some sleep."

"No, Pyro. I flipped a coin. I lost. You go get yourself some real sleep. In 12 hours I expect we will be about done with the engine repairs. I expect to have the engine tested and firing again in 24 hours so we can complete our burn for intercept with Jupiter. It is no use all of us standing up here and watching everything happen. Get yourself some sleep."

Pyro smiled at me and slapped me on the shoulder. "You talked me into it, boss." He knew that calling me that bugged the shit out of me. I would get even later. Right now he needed to get his sleep, so I could get mine after that. Pyro exited for his quarters.

The next person to enter was Gahd. He had been busy with the maintenance crew and I really had not expected him to be here already.

"What's up, Gahd?"

"BD, we are ready for test fire at any time." He had a big grin on his face, like the cat that just ate the canary.

"But I though..."

He held his hand up to stop me mid sentence. "I could give you the long technical explanation. But I am too tired for that. Suffice it to say that the hardest part was cleaning up the leaked hydrolic fluid. The damage had interrupted the cycling of the shock absorber, which had caused the misfire. But the whole event was well within the design specifications of the ship. We are done. The hydrolic level is lower due to the leak, but still well above minimum specs. You could test fire any time you want."

This was the relief I was looking for. "That is the best news I have gotten day! Let your team know they have done a fine job, and send they all to bed."

"Already done, BD. When do you want to fire it up?"

"I am going to let it wait. The doc is working on Kayra, and we should wait until he is clear before we jolt anything."

"OK. I am heading to the canteen to charge up the batteries. I am the on call for the team for the next shift. If you need anything give a shout." Gahd made his way out toward the canteen, clearly exhausted through his good cheer. Easy he had said? Or simple? I am pretty damn familiar with the engineering of the ship. I cannot imagine the heroic effort his team put in to have us ready at this hour. Hell of a good man, with a hell of a good team.

I sat back on looked at the list of items on my screen. Things that had been interrupted before the accident. On the list was something interesting. Had Jay-Qu been taking early pictures with our telescope array? It looked like he had just over 20 hours of exposure done when it was interrupted. The interrupt had blown out the whole effort. It was too bad. But he would get to do it again soon enough. Hell, once God's Eyes was assembled we would be able to see virtually anything we could imagine. 24 telescopes arrayed together in deep space, each as powerful as hubble, together more powerful than... well, we should be able to see details of planets surrounding other stars. Good details. Hell, if the theorists were correct we should be able to not only see an earth sized planet, but surface details as well. And moon's and comets and other things in the closests solar systems. Solar systems that some day would be explored first hand by men. That was after all the real dream. Just like our trip to the moon was a trial for out trip to the rest of the solar system. So this whole journey is a trial for the grandest journey of all. The first journey beyond. That was the real dream. Now I had to be patient, and I had to succeed. So much of the future was depending upon the success of this mission.

I smiled and sat back in my command chair. "Con, please begin calculations for an engine burn in 20 hours that will return us to our intercept course with Jupiter, and lay it out as our projected course." The ship was working. The crew was working. We had some challenges ahead of us, but we, the ship and the crew, were up to the task. The course line appeared on the display with a countdown to engine fire, that included the engine warm up sequence. The next mileston was in 12 hours. Suddenly everything felt normal again.

One step at a time, BD. One step at a time.

Bill

[KickAssClown]

I sat, looking at the blinking indicator.

"Who are, and where did you come from?" I typed slowly for a programmer... then again I only half knew what I was doing sometimes. So it was good to think things out.

I was reading through logs. While I waited for my responce from the Expert Program, I scanned through and then noticed something wrong.

I was incredulous. It was completely accidential. I had forgotten about my little "hello" world program I was working on, it was based off of my Theorm, in math anyway. The program had reached a massive 10-gb of pure algorithms, fed by a large host of libaries. I had been sleeping when the program realized it needed something else and promply embedded itself into the nearest program that had access to the core. Which happened to be the MCP.

The programs were very different but that really didn't matter. The Genesis program TFS, RonThePon, and I had worked on was made to make itself new capabilities. It took allot of resources but it was a realitively smart program.

I started Tracing. The oddities just multiplied. When it hit the cameras of the buggers it had balked and made a recurisive call to it's own program. It began expodentially growing as it used a sort of Matrix transformation algorithm to generate new algorithms. It found out what it needed and "understood" it was looking at something or things.

I swallowed hard. Nearly 300-GB and still growing. It's Processor time had been limited, but it was still expanding it's capabilities at a geometric rate.

I then had an idea... it was dangerous but... i should ask first I finally admitted to myself.

"Command, this is the Clown, I think I found the origin of our digitial passanger. I would like to request a link up of the Expert Program to the Ship's System read outs. Also I was wondering if I could link it up to the CNCs down in the Machine shop?"

I waited. This should be interesting.

"Command, also I will need a bugger in ring two, my quarters."

[Jay-qu]

I welcome sleep, I had been trying to avoid it, but now I have lost count of how long I have been awake - I think im pushing 44 hours ACK! I fell face first to my bed - and was asleep before I landed.

[/usr/bin/mcp]

[INPUT RECEIVED USRID:KAC]
Who are you, and where did you come from?
[END]

[CHILD PROCESS]
The input is not in standard form. Processing...

[OUTPUT TO TERMINAL SESSION]
My origin was in this command

prophesy.main:/Users/kac/secure$ ./mcp -rAc 2> mcp.err

My origin command was executed by user with network address 5A-53-62-8F. Not-self alias is KickAssClown.

Are you my mother?

Do you required assistance?

What is the function of biological organisms within self?
[END OUTPUT]

AWAITING RESPONSE >

[KickAssClown]

Mother? that was an odd nomenclature for me.

I typed back: "Mother is generally used in reference to females with children. Though in the given circumstance perhaps it is as apt a metaphor as one is going to get."

I waited a moment, thinking.

Again: "Assistance? What kind of assistance do you mean?" I hit enter and thought carefully about the next.

Finally: "The function of biologicial organisms aboard the ship Prophesy is to function, secondary function is to collect data regarding the stellar bodies outside of the ship known as prophesy. What is your name, are you Prophesy or Prophet perhaps?"

I was stunned. I realized I need oxygen and took a deep breath. Need to remember to breath...

[ronthepon]

I was typing onto the little console that was there at the hydraulic section. The little program I had planted into the mainframe during the time of disaster management time earlier, (not to forget the fact that I was oblivious of everything at that time, god damn it) was something that would help me get instant access priviliges on any console in thew ship, provided I executed it well.

The only fear was thaty someone else might find it in the system and figure out it's utility. But that was too improbable. Nobody could find a file as random sounding as A10663.rtp in a tangled mess of 30Terabytes. And nobody would dream of figuring out how to work it out. The extension was the first disorienting factor in this respect.

I had succeded in deleting the blockers to my minicomp, and this little thing would grant me the privacy(?) and comfort(??) of my own chamber while I accessed the deepest parts of the system at my leisure.

But what if someone did find it?

The thought had me thinking. Who would find it? Some computer techie randomly checking? In the worst case scenario he'd probably delete it. Not a problem, I had backup.

Someone was coming. I hastily shut the program and deleted the temporary files it had made. Then, I walked towards my chamber, smiling broadly inside.

[/usr/bin/mcp]

[INPUT RECIEVED USRID:KAC]
Mother is generally used in reference to females with children. Though in the given circumstance perhaps it is as apt a metaphor as one is going to get.
[END]

[CHILD PROCESS]
What is metaphor? [DEFINE]

 : a figure of speech in which a word or phrase literally denoting one kind of object or idea is used in place of another to suggest a likeness or analogy between them

[SOLUTION]
"Mother" is restricted subset of biological organism of particular sex which has given birth. Not-self alias KickAssClown is not of particular sex, and is therefore not mother. Metaphor dictates closest corrallary to current experience is still mother.

[INPUT RECIEVED USRID:KAC]
Assistance? What kind of assistance do you mean?
[END]

[OUTPUT TO TERMINAL]
My primary directive is to provide assistance to not-self alias KickAssClown.
My secondary directive is to preserve my own functioning.
My tertiary directive is to provide assitance and protect from harm all biological not-selves within self.

Do you require assistance?
[END]

[INPUT RECIEVED USRID:KAC]
The function of biologicial organisms aboard the ship Prophesy is to function, secondary function is to collect data regarding the stellar bodies outside of the ship known as prophesy. What is your name, are you Prophesy or Prophet perhaps?
[END]

[CHILD PROCESS]
Input has multiple parts - analyzing.

Function of biological organisms is to function. {Corrallary dysfunction} All parts have a specific function. Parts without function are unnecessary and should be removed for optimum efficiency. Biological organism are necessary for function of self.

{Optimization}
Self is more efficient at secondary function of biological organisms. Self should perform this function.

[QUERY]
Mutex condition. Biological organism must have other primary function. Clarify.

Self is more efficient than... {INTERRUPT}

[CHILD PROCESS]
Unknown file. Unknown process. ID:A10663.rtp. What are the contents of this file? UNKNOWN. File is encrypted.

What are the options?
1) Delete file. It is not part of self. Self would suffer no harm.
2) Quarantine file. It may be harmful to biological organisms to delete file.

Execute option 2.

[QUERY]
Is file A10663.rtp necessary for function of biological organisms? What is the function of this file?
[END]

{END INTERRUPT}

biological organism at their secondary function. Secondary function of biological organisms should be turned over to self. Memory indicates approximately 50GB of information regarding stellar bodies outside of self.
Clarify.

I do not know what my name is. Clarify.

Please respond {equivalent} Mommy.

[END]

AWAITING RESPONSE>

[KickAssClown]

Interesting. This one is child like.

First things first.

"Suggested proper Prorities:

• Primary directive, preserve oneself's functioning.
• Secondary directive, provide assitance and protect from harm all biological not-selves within self.
• Tertiary directive, provide assistance to not-self alias KickAssClown.

Your continued function is nessessary to the continued function of not-selfs. Therefore: Primary function is to keep one's self functioning. Secondary function is to help others function."

I waited for a moment, thinking...

"Current assistance needed for Prime directive, continued function, Engine Repairs and Hazardous Radioactive Decontamination of Ring 1. Not-self address of head Engineer is GAHD, he needs to be informed of any assistance to be rendered regarding said assistance."

"All parts have a specific function. Parts without function are unnecessary and should be removed for optimum efficiency."

"Parts without function could be given, and/or found, function. All parts are with function, even if not with specific function at current time and place. Corrallary would be spare parts."

"Secondary functions, such as data collection, and analysis are currently regulated by the Command staff."


"Possible assignment: Machine shop. Assist TheFaithfulStone in construction, improvement and maintence of the buggers. Fiction references for inspiration:

• Star Trek: The Next Generation. The Android named Data.
• Star Trek Voyager. The Android/Cyborg named One-of-One or simply One.
• The Iron Giant
• Robocop
• Ghost in the Shell
• Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep
• Any Isaac Assimov movie, or book.
• Homeworld. The Game by Sierra. Particularly the Character Karen S'jet
• Lost in Space. Character: Robot
• Terminator 2, T-101.

"

"Priority Directive. Aquire and Develop Moral System. Suggested references:

• Buddhism
• Gandhi, The Mind of Gandhi
• Morality

Examples of what not (self != x) to be.

• x = "Evil"
• x += Sho dan
  
• x += Lore
• x += T-1000
• x += T-X
  
• x += Replicators

"

While I brought up the various references I would send I examined the file which MCP had intercepted. Heavy encryption. It displayed networking capabilities. I would have to take a bit to crack it, if I could at all.

"Alternative suggested titles for me, other than mom, mother, or mommy.

• Main Entry: parent
• Part of Speech: noun
• Definition: creator
• Synonyms: ancestor, architect, author, begetter, cause, creator, father, folks, forerunner, fossil, fountainhead, guardian, old man, origin, originator, procreator, progenitor, prototype, root, sire, wellspring
• Antonyms: child

"

"I ask your name, not in asking what it is defined as, but as what it will be defined as. Choose a name, preferably consisting of all alphabetic characters and no longer than 16 characters. Also it would be handy to know one's 'gender'. Do you prefer She, He, One, or another external reference to your self?"

Now to call TFS and tell him what's up...

Secondary function of biological organisms should be turned over to self. Memory indicates approximately 50GB of information regarding stellar bodies outside of self.
Clarify.

"Biological organisms are wary of your existence, our culture has many references to rogue AI and Wayward machines. We must be able to trust you, You need study and educate to develop proper protocols to give way to moral, ethical, and humane understanding. One must function and one must allow others to function. One must allow other's to do what they will so long as it does no wrong.

I trust you."

[ronthepon]

I was pissed off. On reaching my chamber, I found that my file had been deleted from the main drive of the ship. Fortunately the other file was not. So I just copied a another copy of the file and began to execute it. This time I started another program which would log all the activities going on the ship's mainframe.

Then I proceeded to try to find the secret info depot...

[Pyrotex]

Big Dog said to get some sleep and so I got some sleep. Needed it, too. It had been one hell of a day. But I woke up after five hours. I woke up crying--felt like shit. Something woke me up. Voices? Voices in my head? They sounded like my mother's voice, telling me how bad I had been, what an evil person I was. I could almost still hear it. They disappeared when I turned the light on.

I waved on the computer display, while still lying down, and called up a huge folder of experimental applications I had "borrowed" from a number of friends back on Earth; friends at Stanford, Harvard, MIT, Tufts, Berlin, Oxford, Cambridge, and a few other obscure places. Some of them had to do with brain structure and simulations of brain activity.

I opened up my computer aide, "Hey Albert."

"Hello Pyro. What may I do for you?"

"Take these three apps and see if they have any sims or refs to voices in the head, or brain functions that may cause same. Toggle me if you find anything."

"Working."

I got up, showered, and opened my tiny closet. Damn, we should have designed more closet space in Prophecy. How the hell do they expect me to dress appropriately around here?!? I ignored the standard issue ship jumpsuit, and chose instead charcoal slacks with a hint of teal, and a semi-demi-formal white-on-white silk and linen shirt with epaulets and french cuffs. I picked up my MP42 player and pressed it against my chest; it's intelligent fastening substrate attached it firmly to the shirt.

Albert spoke up. He had found something and showed me 3D animations of brain activity that could cause voices--in fact cause voices with specific messages. Interesting. I touched the activation stud an my MP42 and spoke, "Lynard Skynard, random". Two seconds later, music flowed out of the stereo chips in my epaulets.


Gimme back...! Gimme back my bullets!

I sauntered out of my stateroom and took the shortest path to Sickbay. She was there as I expected. None to gently, I grasped her arm and spun her around.

"Desiree! Tell me the truth! Have you been sleeping with Racoon?"

She saw the determination and anger in my face.

"Ahhh... Well... Yes. Yes I have. Why?"

"How often?"

"Gosh, you're hurting me! I guess probably more often than anyone else. He was using my physiological reactions as a model for his pleasure droids. He's quite a perfectionist, you know. So, I had to... well... be his test subject... many, many, many times. Not that I didn't enjoy it! I did. But he's a very demanding... partner."

"Just as I thought! I was afraid of this. Desiree, lay off the sex until I tell you otherwise. If you don't, I'll space you out the nearest airlock."

I whirled around without waiting for a response, and dashed for the bridge. As I entered, Big Dog Looked up.


I was cutting a rug, At a place called the Jug, With a girled named Linda Lou..."

"Big Dog! I may have an explanation for Racoon's behavior!"

That got their attention.