Prophets

Table of Contents

 

 

 

 

 

“SO, NICKOLAI, HOW DO YOU FEEL WORKING WITH A BUNCH OF HUMANS?”

“Mosasa isn't human.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that, didn't you? Mind expounding on that little tidbit?”

Nickolai pondered his options for a moment. The fact he carried a rather large secret with him made him reluctant, but Kugara was the only other member of the team he would feel comfortable having as an “ally.” He also thought she had a point that they both needed one. This mission was going to take them far outside the grip of the BMU, the only law recognized by their nominal comrades. And would he want to trust his life to humans like Wahid or Parvi, or even Fitzpatrick?

Nickolai finished his pitcher and told Kugara what he could about Mosasa. “Our employer,” Nickolai said, “doesn't just
work
with AIs. He doesn't
own
them.”

“Meaning?”

“He
is
them.”

Kugara lowered her mug. The glass hit the table with a slightly liquid squeak. A similar sound seemed to come from her throat. After a moment she said, “Shit.”

“Tjaele Mosasa is a construct controlled by a salvaged Race AI device. The ‘man' who briefed us is no more real than my right arm. . . .”

Science Fiction:
THE HOSTILE TAKEOVER TRILOGY:
PROFITEER (#1)
PARTISAN (#2)
REVOLUTIONARY (#3)

THE MOREAU NOVELS:
MOREAU OMNIBUS (#1-3)
FEARFUL SYMMETRIES (#4)

Fantasy:
THE DWARVES OF WHISKEY ISLAND
THE DRAGONS OF THE CUYAHOGA
*
BROKEN CRESCENT
*
GOD'S DICE

Fiction:
ZIMMERMAN'S ALGORITHM

Copyright © 2009 by Steven Swiniarski.

 

All Rights Reserved.

 

 

DAW Book Collectors No. 1468.

 

DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

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First Printing March 2009

eISBN : 978-1-101-01969-6

This is for Michelle,
for putting up with all my crap.

Father Francis Xavier Mallory
—Roman Catholic Priest and veteran of the Occisis Marines.

Nickolai Rajasthan
—Exiled scion of the House of Rajasthan. Descendant of genetically engineered tigers.

Vijayanagara Parvi
—Mercenary pilot from Rubai.

Tjaele Mosasa
—Proprietor of Mosasa Salvage, owner of the
Eclipse
.

Jusuf Wahid
—Mercenary from Davado Poli.

Julia Kugara
—Mercenary from Dakota. Descendant of genetically engineered humans. Former member of the DPS (Dakota Planetary Security).

“Bill”
—Paralian expert in physics.

Dr. Sharon Dörner
—Xenobiologist from Acheron.

Dr. Samson Brody
—Cultural anthropologist from Bulawayo.

Dr. Leon Pak
—Linguist from Terra.

Rebecca Tsoravitch
—Data analyst from Jokul.

Cardinal Jacob Anderson
—Bishop of Ostia, Dean of the College of Cardinals, Vatican Secretary of State.

Yousef Al-Hamadi
—Eridani Caliphate Minister-at-Large in Charge of External Relations.

Admiral Muhammad Hussein al Khamsiti
—Commander of the
Prophet's Voice
and battlegroup.

Admiral Naji Bitar
—Commander of the
Prophet's Sword
and battlegroup.

Flynn Jorgenson
—Forestry surveyor.

Alexander Shane
—Senior member of the Grand Triad.

The no-mind not-thinks no-thoughts about no-things.

—SIDDHARTHA GAUTAMA BUDDHA (563-483 Bce)

Blaming Fate, God, or Destiny is an admission that you don't have a clue what's going on.

—
The Cynic's Book of Wisdom

The only good is knowledge and the only evil is ignorance.

—SOCRATES (470-390 Bce)

The egg moves at half light speed through the vacuum, its surface a deep blackness absorbing every stray photon, emitting nothing. Particles with small masses—from stray protons up to grains of interstellar dust—slide around it, nanometers from its surface, following the ovoid perimeter until they find their original track on the opposite side, where they resume their motion as if the egg had not crossed their path. The only sign that something exists beneath its event-horizon skin is the resonance in the fabric of space-time as it ripples gravity in its wake.

The egg has traveled for over two centuries, 228.326 years standard to be exact. Viewed from the perspective of those who built it, its journey has barely begun. The Protean outpost on the lawless planet Bakunin, the origin of the egg, had secluded itself from the persecution of the rest of human civilization and looked far beyond the limits of that civilization to propagate itself. The egg's destination is removed from its builders by thousands of light-years in space, and a million years in time. Packed within it is the combined resources and knowledge of the entire Protean civilization.

Within the egg sleep the minds of a quarter million people.

One mind is awake. An artificial mind devoid of boredom or emotion. A mind that can observe the egg's travels over the course of an aeon and not go insane.

A mind that sees with an almost omniscient eye.

The egg itself is a collector of every scrap of radiant energy; it touches every ripple in the fabric of space, hears the twist of momentum of the particles slipping close to its skin, and smells the quantum foam of virtual particles that break across it as it moves through the vacuum. The mind is as aware as any sentient being can possibly be.

For all that, the mind's job is simple. Watch, and ensure that the egg does not move through anything that could damage it or its contents. That is the directive, the mind's sole reason for being.

The mind cannot feel pride, but it knows that it is good at its job. It knows in a concrete fashion that it has saved the egg from danger 1,568 times in the past 200 years standard.

Dust will slide by the dent the egg makes in the universe around it, but a stone any larger would not be so easily dissuaded at these velocities. While the egg could withstand the occasional grain of interstellar matter colliding with its surface, the mind knows the distance they are traveling. Even sand grains could cause an unacceptable wear on the egg's resources over the course of their long journey. And, of course, a rock of any size larger than a pea might prove crippling. Fortunately, the egg is forward-looking enough to maneuver around large obstacles, from dark patches dense with interstellar matter to a variable star whose motion would carry it into the egg's path 2,856 years standard from now.

The mind does not feel curiosity. The mind does not sense that as a weakness, since it has a defined procedure for assigning priority to stimuli. Threats receive its full attention. Non-threats are discarded as irrelevant. Unclassifiable phenomena are stored pending the mind's ability to determine if they are threats or not.