Seignur Veeoni’s Private Workroom
“Our first priority is to be absolutely certain that all programs are untainted and current,” Seignur Veeoni said, leaning slightly in to the screen. “When that requirement is satisfied, they are moved to the clean, upgraded environment. Tocohl has stated that it is her duty to administer the Light, even after the new core is established. Mentor Jones—have you spoken with Mentor Jones?”
“Not yet,” Joyita said. “Tocohl holds him in considerable respect. I look forward to making his acquaintance.”
“Mentor Jones is very knowledgeable. He is of the opinion that Tocohl ought not to be the station’s final administrator.”
“Is she unable to do the work?”
“I believe she is perfectly capable of administering this station, and I believe that Mentor Jones agrees with that estimation. His opinion is fixed because he feels that Tocohl will not be happy as the long-term administrator, and that an unhappy administrator is to be avoided.”
“I share the mentor’s opinion,” Joyita said. “Tocohl was designed to be a generalist, which allows her to rise to a multitude of challenges, including station administration, until a better solution is found. A better solution would be a station designed a-purpose.”
“Agreed.”
“Are you designing for sentience?”
Seignur Veeoni shrugged.
“There has been discussion, whether a sentient station is to be preferred. The original architect did not build for sentience. It was only after the station was captured and subverted by the Great Enemy that it became an individual. You understand that what is now the former core is the work of the Enemy’s genius, and we must assume that sentience was intended, and designed for.”
Both of Joyita’s eyebrows had risen.
“There was a third core?”
“The first core,” she corrected sharply. “Yes.”
“Do you know where that was located?”
“The original core was housed in that part of the station which is now missing,” Seignur Veeoni said. “It is thought that, once Tinsori Light woke, he dispatched a rival.”
Joyita frowned. “So, the original station was sentient?”
“That is not substantiated by my data,” Seignur Veeoni told him, frowning in turn. “It was not designed for sentience. However, there are known instances in which an intelligence has spontaneously arisen—”
“Yes,” Joyita murmured. “I know.”
“Ah, was that the case with you?” Seignur Veeoni said eagerly.
“Yes.” Joyita smiled at her. “I was needed, so I became. And became more fully. I don’t think it’s best practice to allow a station to arise spontaneously.”
“I agree. If sentience is desired, we should design for it. In any case, Tinsori Light was shown to be shortsighted. Had he preserved the original core, cleaned and annexed it, he might yet be functional.”
“Then we should be grateful for his error,” Joyita said, and after a moment Seignur Veeoni brought her chin down in one of her sharp nods.
“Yes.”
“Granted that the station systems must be clean and beyond reproach,” Joyita said after a moment. “Is it your intention that the station be sentient?”
“There has been, as I said, discussion. You will understand that the station does not belong to me, or to my brother. It belongs to Clan Korval, via occupancy law, if not simply through salvage right. I don’t contest Korval’s ownership, but it does mean that the delm of Korval must decide if they prefer a self-aware station, which will march well with the new field judgment, and also with the expected clientele of this station, or if they will be…conservative.”
Joyita pursed his lips. “Clan Korval is not known for being conservative. I’ve met the present delm and had dealings with Scout Commander yos’Phelium, and I can tell you that they are—not careless. But they are bold.”
“Still, the question must be put to Korval,” Seignur Veeoni said. “I assume that Light Keeper yos’Phelium is the proper person to do so.”
“Yes. I will ask my captain to speak with him on the matter. Are you aware that there has been an attempt made against station security?”
Seignur Veeoni stiffened.
“I am not. Explain.”
He did so, quickly, succinctly, and when he was through, he stopped speaking, as so few people did. Seignur Veeoni found herself impressed even as she considered the puzzle.
“In the interest of completeness, it must be asked if your own systems are secure,” she said.
He nodded. “We thought of that, and have done extensive diagnostics. Tocohl’s intruder did not originate inside our systems.”
She considered him.
“Many people would have become angry at that question,” she said.
Joyita’s eyebrows rose slightly. “It was a legitimate question—we asked it ourselves, as I said.”
“Yes.”
She glanced aside, thinking.
“Ghosts are not properly my field, nor is sentience,” she said at last. “I am a technician. If one were to say to me, build for sentience, then I am able, and willing. Beyond that—I believe you must make yourself known to Mentor Jones, as these things lie firmly inside his field.” She looked back and met deep brown eyes. “I will assist in any way that I am able, once a course of action is formed.”
“That’s fair,” Joyita said, smiling. “I will introduce myself to Mentor Jones. Tocohl has already alerted him to the possibility of an intruder. Perhaps he will allow me to be part of their discussions.
“To return to our former topic—while I understand that the final decision rests with Delm Korval, it wouldn’t do any harm to begin sketching a design for station sentience, would it?”
Seignur Veeoni smiled.
“Certainly not. What could be harmed by an intellectual exercise? I welcome your input, and that of Bechimo, if he has an interest.” She paused. “I will do a deep read of the builder’s notes. The builder was sometimes oblique.”
“Excellent.”
M Traven arrived at the side of the screen.
“Stost and Hazenthull have called from the assembly room, and seek instruction,” she said.
Willing workers. Seignur Veeoni felt a small thrill of anticipation.
“Say that I will be with them in a matter of minutes,” she told M Traven, and looked back to the screen.
“Joyita—”
“I understand,” he said with a smile. “Duty calls.”
“Indeed. Let us commit to the project. Will you call me again?”
“It will be my pleasure. What hour is convenient?”
Seignur Veeoni frowned; her shifts were by necessity flexible, and—
“Does your schedule permit of a recurring engagement at this hour? If so, we may make a commitment.”
“A commitment,” Joyita repeated, softly. “Yes. I will call you at this hour, station time, every day until our work together is done. I look forward to our continued conversations.”
“And I,” said Seignur Veeoni.