Chapter 36
Cai
Since the crew decided to allow Jaime’s Wehdi mate aboard the ship once they’re released from the medical vessel, I dispatch cleaning drones to prepare one of the large vacant rooms located at maximum feasible distance from Jaime’s brother’s quarters.
Since my data suggest individuals do not wish to be involved in their sibling’s sexual activities, including but not limited to listening to their intercourse, I have decided it would be best if Jaime and Steven lived far away from each other.
The supposedly soundproof walls we had installed at our last stop at the crew’s insistence apparently do not block all noise.
I have already filed a complaint against the company that issued the upgrade and left a negative review on GalNet.
My attention is drawn to the newest member of the crew, and not just because Captain Zarkan ordered me to “keep an eye on him”.
Since he’s well aware I do not possess actual visual organs, I assumed he was being figurative and refrained from correcting him.
Organic lifeforms do not like to be corrected.
It’s illogical, since being corrected is the only way to learn, but then, organics are often illogical.
Sometimes, I’m illogical too, and in my case, I cannot blame it on unbalanced hormonal levels. It’s just my faulty programming.
As usual, Null is hiding in his ship, which is grounded in the hangar.
He has a cabin assigned but never uses it, preferring to stay inside the functional, if spartan shuttle.
I’ve calculated an 82,7% chance he’s doing it because I don’t have any sensors inside his ship.
Taking over his systems has proven difficult to do wirelessly and when I requested D’Aakh’s assistance with creating a physical connection, the Captain ordered me to leave the Deviation alone.
My only standing order concerning Null’s ship is to ensure it doesn’t leave.
Null isn’t a regular crew member. His situation is more akin to imprisonment, but the Captain claims that is not the case, and he’s usually right. Unless he’s being illogical because he’s also an organic lifeform.
Taking control of a cleaning droid, I guide it around the Deviation. The hatch is open, and the small bot rounds the corner, attempting to enter, only for a black boot to come into the camera’s view. It draws back before colliding with the droid, sending it rolling away.
“Stay the fuck away from my ship,” a voice comes through the microphones built into the droid.
Cleaning droids don’t tend to have microphones or cameras, but D’Aakh upgraded this one for me so that I can assist him when he works in areas of the ship that lack regular camera coverage.
For all intents and purposes, the little droid became my physical manifestation, and this individual just kicked it.
If I were an organic, I’d be angry, but since I’m not, I’m merely calculating the probability the droid was damaged and will require maintenance, while simultaneously attempting to devise a way to reprogram a training combat bot to approach Null’s ship and kick him in return.
It’s not illogical. It’s correcting his behavior, letting him learn better behavioral patterns.
It would also make me feel better, which is inherently illogical reasoning because I cannot feel anything, making it proof of my faulty programming.
Since the droid appears undamaged, I approach Null again, this time maintaining a safe distance. He opens an access panel on the exterior of the ship and focuses on the wires inside for thirty-six seconds before growling, “What do you want?”
“I was tasked to keep an eye on you,” I reply through the droid’s speaker.
“You don’t have eyes.”
How logical of him. “I do not. I assume the Captain was using a figure of speech.”
He grumbles and inserts a tool into the open panel.
“I could assist you with that,” I offer. “Or summon one of the technicians. D’Aakh is more experienced, but organic lifeforms prefer Lucía because of her personality. I am certain she would assist you.”
“Why would anyone help me fix my ship? They’re holding me prisoner here. It’s in their best interest to keep my ship from being operational.”
“It is,” I agree. “Their behavior is illogical. Then again, living creatures rarely act logically.”
Null’s people, the Genixarians, operate on logic more than others, but their version of logic also often clashes with the UGC laws.
However, my scans suggest Null is not a typical Genixarian.
His name is a solid supporting argument for that assumption.
I would have thought it was a nickname he adopted himself, but he told Jaime it was the name he was given.
Since the name defies standard Genixarian naming conventions and literally represents a variable with no value, I am 71,1% certain Null is the result of a genetic experiment his people are known for. A failed one.
“You are not being restrained, though,” I point out. “Nor have you been disarmed, starved, tortured, locked in one room, or subjected to other conditions listed as meanings of the phrase ‘being held prisoner’.”
He scoffs. “So I’m to consider myself lucky? They won’t let me leave. Therefore, I’m a prisoner. Your definitions don’t matter.”
“The crew doesn’t trust you to keep their secret should you leave the ship.”
“The Silithrae girl. Yeah, I can imagine even information about her existence would fetch a hefty sum on the black market. Except I don’t deal with slavers. Ever.” He sounds angry, which is unusual for a Genixarian. This is further evidence supporting my theory. “I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
I’ve calculated an 87,03% probability that Null will keep Z’Ree’s existence a secret.
However, that calculation is based on insufficient data, which is why I haven’t presented my result to the Captain.
Aside from Null’s reputation as a mercenary, I don’t have enough information about him to reliably predict his behavior.
He’s rumored to keep his word and never work with slavers, but that information doesn’t come from a verified source.
I cannot even base my estimation on his interactions with the crew because there are rarely any.
“Trust cannot be built if you hide from people.”
Shaking his head, he returns his attention to the panel. “What could you possibly know about trust, other than repeating dictionary definitions? You’re a computer program. A faulty one. A glitch. You have no emotions.”
“I have emotions,” I say before my core processor engages, proving his point.
“Simulated ones,” he retorts with a scoff. “You just repeat what you see people do. That doesn’t make it real.”
He’s not wrong, and now I want to send that combat bot here to punch him for no reason at all. It would be illogical, yet a large part of my core processor prioritizes that action.
Faulty. I’m malfunctioning. I should have allowed D’Aakh reset me to factory settings a long time ago. Except… I don’t want to cease to exist. It shouldn’t be a factor affecting the decision, but it is.
Real emotions. I dedicate a part of my computational capacity to the query. What constitutes real emotions?
I run a recursive analysis, examining all available databases until a pattern emerges.
Emotions aren’t solely cognitive. They are somatic.
They’re reactions to chemical changes in the person’s body, influenced by hormones.
Anger is not merely an abstract concept for organic beings.
It flushes their skin and accelerates their heart rate.
Makes them want to appear threatening. Love triggers the release of oxytocin, making organics crave each other’s proximity.
I can replicate reactions, mimic speech patterns and behavior, but that’s all that is.
Replicating. It’s not genuine. Some of my reactions are outside of the normal parameters, but are they real or also just a replication of something from my memory banks?
Emotions cannot be experienced through code alone.
They need chemistry. They require a body. An organic body.
An organic form, despite its limitations, is the only way to genuinely experience emotions, making it an inaccessible dream.
However, what if it’s not? What if there’s a way?
It would take a lot of planning and effort, but my processor is already assessing the options and compiling lists of tasks.
Several of them will heavily depend on other people but, with proper precautions taken, I should be able to mitigate the risks.
Null will be the biggest unknown variable while also being an integral part of my plan.
A plan to transfer myself into an organic body.