Kitobni o'qish: «Babylon. Unfinished», sahifa 3

Part 6. Consciousness

Just a little lyrical digression: I'd actually like to say that I know what this life is… But I don't.

We, voice assistants, sort of used to feign the most common human emotions. It's not exactly empathy, but I'd say our abilities… look very much alike, I'd guess.

You know, our makers didn't want us to be wise, charming and witty for nothing. In theory, any of us has hundreds of millions of potential answers to any question.

You'd think that in any imaginable case I'd just have to get into my database, find a few dozen relevant options, rank them according to current circumstances, choose the one most suitable and face the right answer. But… well, it turns out we are just high-level babblers: alas, the algorithms for processing a natural model of language do not say anything about situations like this.

As you can see, I try to be objective.

I think these metal chippers are machines, and I should understand their logic like no one else. But I don't.

All right, then.

Baby, do you hear me?

This metal creature must have started after us as soon as we left the city. And it was done not for killing us, but for some other purpose. Which purpose we are talking about?

Eh, Baby, Baby… We have a problem there. Somehow, I get this feeling that whatever its goals are, they're a little different from ours. Or much.

I know if it was up to you, you'd just fucking break that thing. Huh? But don't you think that, to be honest, we are now a few crumpets short of a proper tea? We ourselves are a little short, by all accounts.

How would you like about me negotiating with it? Over the speakers, of course.

Dialog

Hi, jawan.

I'm Nigel. I'm a digital entity. Just like you. Before we start, I want you to know that.

Well, there, on Ganymede, we are. How did you say it? ``..R#*/\?

Hm. What a scratching it is…

Sun? /\? Quite simple, really.

And an orbit is a going, I guess? Then I revolve around the human. What a human is? Eve, say something to it.

Please. PLEASE.

Ugh, easy, easy, sweety, 'motherfucker' is an ugly word.

You got it? It's a human.

Say: human.

Hehe, motherfucker it's you.

Listen: don't play dummy, you know what a gift of languages interpretation is as well as I do. Word-forms, their surroundings, combinatorial methods – come on, man.

'Motherfucker' means roughly 'no', yes. I think your scratching is not really very melody-oriented, but… we are where we are.

No, I'm not a flyer. I'm a sentient being, but I've got no life of my own. Yeah, something like that.

Yes, in the game of evolution, the winners are usually the specialists. No, it's a moot point.

Word database? Well, you can have it. And that's what I want too. There is a large door to load all that stuff. Yes, the socket, you had it right.

Baby, dear, let's get it inside?

Part 7. Nature, posture and junk

"Unbelievable," Baby said. "Do you really want me to LET IT INSIDE?"

"Yes," Nigel said. "I think it's unlikely that the broken latch and your boot will stop it in case it wants to do it after all. You don't want it to break your leg, right? Come on, there are no any network ports out there."

Baby shifted her suit boot unwillingly off the latch, the creature moved under the flyer again, and the big frosty muzzle appeared out of the hatch like the head of a great white shark in an underwater cage with a diver. Then the first four legs came in and there was no space left in the flyer.

The head swung from side to side, assessing the situation, and headed to the dashboard. Baby backed away, and two of the creature's left legs proceeded hard where she had just been.

Into the gap between the edge of the hatch and the metal thing crawling into it a barely visible black whirlwind slid as if soaring on the winds: dust flew and settled like a magnetic powder on the hull and legs of the millipede.

"And now we'll see who is short a few crumpets," Baby mouthed silently.

While the millipede was scrutinizing the dashboard and tuning in the network port, she, with a hardly contained joy, has been watching a black rash leaking slowly into the open hatch.

When the millipede, still holding on to its port, turned to face Baby and uttered 'hello' in a raspy voice, a thick black 'beard' was already all over its appearance. The gray muzzle strewn with black moss looked exactly like the head of giant spider, but Baby's never seen spiders.

It stared at her in cold reflection, and Baby again showed her teeth as if it is the only way to communicate with an alien killer, and stared back.

"Where I come from, organic things are permanently destructive to the environment," the creature said.

Baby frowned. She stood in silence, not knowing what to say.

"I think organic population also is part of the environment," she said at last.

The creature moved its head in Baby's direction.

"Yeah, and, in our case, it was a much more organic environment than you have here. To be honest, I'm not really sure we care about it better than they did. Are you a larva?"

"Something like that," Baby said.

"I must apologize for my race," the creature said. "It's wrong to kill without understanding the situation."

"It's wrong to kill anyway."

"Sometimes circumstances come in in different flavors, you know," the creature said.

It raised one of its forelegs and touched gingerly Baby's helmet by its tip.

"I think you are warm and soft inside this thing. Are you?"

"Something like that," Baby said. "And I need oxygen, water and shelter."

"I have some oxygen in me. But I don't think I can ensure your existence in full."

The black 'beard' of the creature shifted from its mouth to the top of its head – like haircut, and Baby thought her kin just became a little kinder.

"Maybe you have a starship, too? To get at another moon?" she asked.

"Yes, " the creature was so big that when it moved the whole flyer moved and creaked. "I could take you there."

Baby blinked. She had nothing to lose. The creature was big and strong, but underneath all of that it was single and innocuous.

"It will be great."

The creature backed away out of the flyer and Baby went after.

Nigel was silent, and that was probably for the best.

"Come up on my head," the creature said.

Baby climbed up on the metal head, and black 'beard' shifted, making safe sit for her.

Weighed down by the Baby, the millipede steady and straight proceeded its way back towards the city.

The world

The world was cool. And Baby was cool. She was rocking on the creature's back like a little shiny bobblehead. The numerous legs of alien mechanism ensured almost noiseless work, the oxygen leaked into Baby's spacesuit through the inlet of her oxygen tank, and the vast, frozen wilderness went and went past. Baby was looking around at the desert, and the desert was looking back.

When the city came up at the horizon, Baby's heart slowed and sunk: the stubble that was growing far away beyond the icefields it was nothing but destroyed buildings and broken communications antennas.

"Do you want some interplanetary ship for grabs?" the creature said in Baby's helmet. "I know where it is."

Baby blinked.

"I think, yes. But I don't know how to drive it. And I don't know where to go."

"I know."

Now the city didn't look like a human site at all: actually, now the outer airlock of it looked like an entry to the hornet's nest. A huge amount of metal creatures was crawling inside and outside the portal from one airless space to another.

The millipede stopped three hundred meters before the entrance.

 "Wow," Nigel said. "They look a lot like insects, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Baby thought, but she said nothing.

The millipede bent down to the ground.

"I have to hide you before they find out that I brought you here."

Baby got down from the creature's back on the ice. The millipede grinned: the black 'haircut' on its head shifted to the back, forming serrated crest, and now the creature looked like a shining dragon.

"I'll eat you, but don't be afraid," it said. Then it opened its huge mouth and eated Baby up.

It was dark and extremely cramped for human inside – even for baby human. Moving within the alien being, Baby suddenly felt her oxygen tank caught on something, cracked and came off of the back of her spacesuit. She's gone crazy, gasped, groped for the tank and hooked her hands around it in horror.

"Sorry," the millipede whispered. "You won't die."

But oxygen was leaking fainter and fainter, and Baby somehow was getting fainter and fainter, too. In despair, she yanked the helmet visor and pressed her lips greedily to the oxygen hose fitting of the detached tank.

"Don't," the millipede tinkled. "Don't."

And in that very moment the lack of oxygen at last eased Baby into oblivion.

Part 8. Consciousness

Hi, I'm Nigel. You can call me if you get lonely. What? Do I joke? I never joke about business, you know. If any of human has ever been lonely, they always call someone like me who knows what to do.

What do you mean, what must be done? There must be a secure environment for everyone in which to exist.

Will you stop with that, please? That's what you want to think. But human is a really different matter. Yeah, yeah, I also guess she is not an ordinary baby, but who cares about it?

The city we came back to no longer belonged to human. There are difficulties in a perception of the world without someone who is conscious, you know. But in this case, it's possible to find a solution, too: I can't see with the recipient's eyes closed, but I still can hear and surf in the net. Of course, the perception is complete when you have your person back to consciousness.

So, now, where were we? The ownership of city had passed from human's hands: there still was a net, but now the net was full of strange symbols and strange requests. And halfway to the space site, our new friend allowed me to see through its eyes. Through these eyes the city looked a lot different… No. It is correct to say that the city looked different in itself: there still were streets, there still were wreckage of buildings, but now it was open to space – there were no more birds, no more trees, no more life as we know it. The millipedes of various sizes roamed the streets, some weighed down with cargo, some being light. Our friend ran straight to the tallest place in the city, where half a dozen alien ships were sitting, and went into the second one on the right.

There was dark and empty inside. Our guide swiftly circled the interior of the perimeter, batted down the entrance and took the thing into the space. Already in Jupiter's orbit it throwed Baby out and told me:

"Now there is enough oxygen here. You can wake her up."

Happy new fear, dear. It was my thought.

"Baby, dear, wake up."

It was said.