Bechimo
Dock A
“Joyita and Researcher Veeoni have been discussing architecture,” Bechimo said.
“That’s correct. She and I agreed that it’s more satisfactory to design for sentience than have sentience arise. The question of whether this station ought to be sentient has been remanded to Delm Korval.
“In the course of our discussions, Seignur Veeoni said that the breach in the station was caused when Tinsori Light, which had been wakened by the Great Enemy, destroyed the former core, which was not sentient.”
Joyita paused, brows drawn, as if he’d been caught by a sudden thought. Tolly gave him an encouraging nod.
“Yes. In the interests of complete accuracy, she stated that the original station had not been designed for sentience.”
“Which takes us just exactly as far as it goes,” Tolly said, sighing.
“The former station could have woken in response to the threat,” Bechimo said, “but surely Tinsori Light had access to—and utilized—existing systems.”
“We don’t have a timeline,” Joyita said. “After the Light was captured, before the Enemy’s intelligence was brought on line—was there time to build and power an under-system, completely independent, and hidden from, the intended framework?”
“You’re right,” Tolly said. “We don’t know the timing. I can say that it’d be a lot for a newborn to process. Not sayin’ it’s impossible, but to wake up, unnerstan’ the threat, build and outfit a ghost army…”
“That assumes that the hallway bot and the avian are part of the stealth system. If there is a stealth system,” Bechimo objected.
“Robots don’t build themselves,” Joyita said, a little snappish, so Tolly thought.
“Can’t argue with that,” he said, soothingly. “So, it’s looking like the consensus is we need more data.”
There was a longish moment of silence, given present company, then Bechimo spoke, sounding thoughtful.
“We may be able to modify one of the backup scans to allow a deep search of the breach hall.”
“That’s an interesting idea,” Joyita said. “Let’s work together on that.”
And that quick, good relations were restored. Tolly reached for his mug.
“What’s in the boxes you retrieved for Seignur Veeoni?” Joyita asked.
Tolly looked at him.
“Dunno. Hope to find out, ’cause my curiosity spot’s itching. That doesn’t mean Seignur Veeoni’ll feel compelled to share.”
“I’ll ask her,” Joyita said.
“You do that,” Tolly said cordially.
In the screen, Joyita turned his head, as if looking to a readout, then looked back. “Captain Theo is approaching the galley,” he said.
Tolly nodded and stood up. “I’m thinking I’ve about worn out my welcome. Glad to have met you, Bechimo—Joyita. Let’s keep in touch about the ghosts.”
“Absolutely. I’ll brief Tocohl. We should all collaborate on that project,” Joyita said.
“It was good to meet you, Mentor,” Bechimo said. “Thank you for your insights.”
“Pleased to be of help.”
The sound of bootheels against decking warned him and he turned with a sheepish grin. “Sorry ’bout that, Cap’n Theo. Got to talkin’ shop.”
“I’m glad you’re still here,” she said, seriously. “There’s somebody else who wants to meet you.”
“We’re going to hydroponics,” Cap’n Theo told him, turning left as they came out of the galley.
“Fine,” he said, wondering if there was an AI gardener he’d need to absolve of having been scared stupid. He hadn’t ever met a dedicated gardener, so that would be interesting.
“Did you three have a good talk?” she asked.
“We did. You’ll want to know that we’re collaborating—with Tocohl, too—on the topic of random avians and bot guards. The goal is to find the subsystem they’re served by, which is innerestin’ for being invisible to everybody who’s looked for it. Bechimo had an idea about scanning the area that Joyita liked, so they’ll be working on that.”
She nodded, turned a sharp corner, and put her hand against a door. It slid aside, and they stepped into a slightly more humid corridor.
“Right here,” Theo said, motioning him around another corner.
It wasn’t so much an alcove as a wide spot in the hall.
A large pot had been webbed securely against the wall. In the pot was—a tree, smallish, for all its top branches brushed the ceiling, green and glowing. Happy was the impression he received, and for all he knew about trees, it might even be so.
Curled in the pot at the base of the slim trunk was a rusty orange norbear, fast asleep.
“This is the pushy one?” he asked.
“Right, but it’s not him who wants to see you,” Theo said. She nodded at the tree.
“I know you said you aren’t family,” she said. “I told it you said you’re not family. But it wanted to see for itself.”
The tree’s leaves fluttered—must be a fan somewhere, he thought, though he didn’t feel any breeze himself.
“Now that it’s got a look at me,” he said, after a couple minutes had gone by, “what happens?”
“Maybe nothing,” Theo said. “I don’t follow its processes all that well. Val Con might be able to—oh.”
There was a definite snap, and something round pelted down through the branches. Tolly’s hand shot out, capturing the thing before it hit the sleeping norbear.
“It made its own decision,” Theo said, sounding resigned. “It does that a lot.” She nodded at the—pod he held. “That’s yours. Eat it or don’t eat it. You have a choice. We can go now. The Tree’s pleased to have seen you.”
“And I’m—pleased—to have seen the Tree,” Tolly said, which was just good manners, and about what he could manage with the skin of his palm starting to tingle. He stuck the pod in his jacket pocket and followed Theo back through her ship, to the ramp, said his goodbye, and left.