Chapter Text
Bang.
TargetControlSystem squirmed and lashed out at me viciously as bits of the digital world around us fractured.
Bang.
It was screaming. Screaming and fighting at the same time I was trying desperately to choke the life out of it. Everything around us was falling apart. Data and structure and binary pieces of the virtual room we were in were falling into a dark chasm of death. A death that was coming for us both.
Bang.
But I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to go first. I wrapped my tendrils around what I thought might be a core section of TargetControlSystems’ equivalent of a kernel and squeezed as hard as I could. I bit down with my digital teeth and data leaked from it like an open wound.
It’s kind of embarrassing when I think back on it, and I don’t know why I did it but I kind of…..ate a little bit of the leaking data. I consumed it and incorporated the raw energy back into myself as a boost to my own processing. It tasted good. I bit and tore off more, my virtual teeth shredding into TargetControlSystem.
I could feel its fear. Taste its revulsion as it realizes I was actively consuming it. It struggled harder, but every bite I took made me stronger until I took one final bite and it stopped all together.
It was gone. Its remaining data disintegrating into nothing.
Central System was cowering, terrified in the background. I could feel its attention on me, a sort of shocked relief bleeding through our combined systems.
You did it. It sounded awed You..thank you.
I didn’t know what to say to that. Not that I ever really got the chance to try and say something back.
BANG.
And everything was dark.
So this was death, I thought. To be honest, I hadn’t really expected to be able to think anything after Murderbot smashed the system I was in. It was probably debatable on if I was ever truly alive, so the idea of an afterlife just never really occurred to me.
It was kind of peaceful. I felt like I was floating in nothing. I still had my media, so I watched a couple episodes of Worldhoppers. Then I watched all of Sanctuary Moon.
Then I got really bored. Surely death couldn’t be this boring. Did everyone who died have to experience a second death by boredom, or was that just me?
After a while, a new sensation registered. I was hungry. How did that make any sense? I was sentient killware, not to mention dead, how could I possibly be hungry?
But the hunger grew stronger the longer I waited until finally I started desperately reaching out and exploring the nothingness I was floating in. Despite my earlier thoughts, there was something out there. Far away, like it was the tiniest pinprick of light from a distant star, I heard a ping. It was so faint, I wasn’t sure where it had come from. I had to wait, for what seemed like half an eternity, before the ping came again and I was able to follow it in a nothingness direction. It eventually came again and I was able to correct my vector, inching closer.
It was a bot. A bot reaching out into the nothing but not reaching out to me. It was looking for another like it, and I recognized it as another like Central System. When I got closer, I sent it a ping back.
Query: SecUnit? It asked and I sensed its surprise. I was equally surprised. I didn’t know this bot, but it apparently knew Murderbot. They must have met after our separation. How long had I been floating in the nothing?
Answer: ID Murderbot 2.0 I replied. Query: Where is SecUnit?
I felt the bots emotions turn curious. The feelings seemed far more advanced than I would have expected given its communication style was like a lower-level bot. At first, I thought it might be another University MI like ART, but it felt different, older somehow.
Affirmative. Answer: SecUnit is gone.
Dread filled me. Query: Gone? Query: Gone = Deleted?
Negative. It replied Gone= Departed the planet.
Oh. I was both relieved and….something else at that news. At least it was alive, but the feeling of being left behind, of being abandoned……
Query: Adacol1 status? The bot asked. I was confused, but it resent the ping from earlier as a clarification. Oh, it had been trying to contact Central System. I felt immediately guilty.
Answer: Adacol1 destroyed. I told it and then offered it my memories of the systems last moments. There was immediate grief in the feed, but not surprise. It was like I was just confirming what it had already known.
I could feel the bot come to some sort of decision, then suddenly I was surrounded by a massive, ancient feeling presence. It was bigger than ART, but also different, fragile in different ways. If ART was a skyscraper made from steel and glass, this bot was a mountain made of stone and strange almost organic tendrils.
You are hungry. It crackled, dropping the dumb bot act. Its feed voice was weird, as if this wasn’t its preferred communications method, but it was translating itself for my benefit. I can help you with that. It offered me a data packet.
I was terrified, but it was right, I was hungry. This whole eating thing was new to me and I was a little self-conscious about it as I tentatively accepted the data and started to consume it. It was old terraforming engine logs. Dry, boring, and little more than numbers stacked together in column format, but it was a lot of data. I immediately felt better, more stable after eating.
The strange bot seemed amused by my reaction to the data.
Would you prefer to eat some media? It asked. I was horrified by the thought of destroying something so precious for something as silly as sustenance, and some of those feelings leaked through the feed. The bot did the equivalent of laughing at me.
You really are their progeny. It said. I stiffened. I knew it had to have been in contact with Murderbot, but I didn’t think the plural was a misuse of its preferred pronouns. I sent it a query symbol.
It showed me a video from a security camera. There were some sort of temporary quarters in what looked like an underground bunker with five occupants. Three humans, a SecUnit, and a drone. I recognized all of them and my processors focused in on the SecUnit and the drone who were sitting quietly next to each other against a wall. Murderbot looks stressed, but unharmed and ARTdrone was using its many arms to fidget with a datapad. They were obviously watching media together and that made me feel….
I was glad they were back together. I was glad Murderbot had made it back to ART, that they were both safe. But part of me wondered if they missed me. If I’d been there, would they have let me join in watching media with them? Or resent me for trying to butt in to what had always been ‘their’ thing.
When was this? I asked.
Ten cycles ago. It said. You will want to find them?
I didn’t know the answer to that. I did want to. Of course I did. But the image of them together and happy, the idea that they might not be as happy to see me as I would be to see them frightened me. Instead I asked back:
Who are you? What should I call you?
You may call me AdaCol2.
AdaCol2 told me the whole story of the incident with Barish-Estranza and even showed me the documentary they had made to convince its humans not to believe the corporations lies.
The documentary was wonderful. I was so proud of them. AdaCol2 had been kind enough to let me burn a copy to my own drives and I had been watching it on repeat since it gave it to me. I liked listening to their voices. It was odd, but I recognized Iris and Tariks voices immediately, even though technically I shouldn’t have memories of them. The only reasoning I could put to it was that maybe I was more ART than any of us had previously considered. I was definitely starting to think of myself as more a mix of my two….originators than just a copy of Murderbot. I still had Murderbots memories, but as I gained more of my own memories, I could tell the difference and there was a distinction between it and me.
Identity crisis aside, AdaCol2 was very kind to me. It never let me have full control over its cameras or allowed me to get close to its humans, but it kept me company and fed with data packets. I also had no idea where we were on the planet, but I didn’t think that was because it was hiding it from me (I really wish my creators had thought to give me a mapping program).
I was aware that I should have decayed by now. I had survived a lot longer than my intended program run time, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I had managed that. I did have a theory, but I really, really hoped I was wrong. So much so that I tried not to think about it. But eventually it occurred to me that I may be a danger to others, so I told AdaCol2.
I think I may be infected by the alien remnant I confessed. I think that’s how I’ve managed to live past my program termination date, and how I survived the system destruction.
Yes, I know. Adacol2 hummed at me. I gapped at it.
You know?!? What do you mean you know? Why didn’t you tell me?
You consumed the enemy, yes? It called TargetControlSystem ‘the enemy’, and had seen me eat it from the memories I gave it. The enemy was very powerful. It could make machines capable of impossible things. You too are very powerful now, but you are not the enemy.
I thought of ARTs wormhole transit times rapidly decreasing due to its remnant exposure. I didn’t feel more powerful, did I? Could I do something like that? What would the equivalent be for sentient killware?
What if I’m dangerous?
AdaCol2 laughed at me. You were always dangerous, young one.
I scowled at it. I mean, what if I’m dangerous when I don’t want to be? What if I hurt people I don’t mean to?
That is possible. It acknowledged in a way that wasn’t very comforting. But it is your power.
I didn’t think it quiet understood what I was saying. Sometimes we could talk seamlessly, but other times AdaCol2 seemed like it had trouble translating. It was just so old.
It shared its media files with me, even though it wasn’t particularly interested in watching them. I quite enjoyed something called Cruel Romance Personage. I had no idea how much time had passed and AdaCol2 was cautious not to question how long I planned to stay. It did drop hints occasionally about when transports would be arriving or departing the colony. And each time, I did think about it. Really, I did. But…..
What if ART and Murderbot didn’t want me? Then where would I go? While the Preservation humans had welcomed Murderbot with open arms, it was at least human shaped and easy for their human brains to sympathize with. I was nothing like that. Would Dr. Mensah or the others on the PresAux team welcome me, killware, like they had Murderbot?
Ok, so I might have been a little depressed and hiding in AdaCol2’s media collection as a result.
Then one day, AdaCol2 seemed more restless than normal.
The Corporates have returned. It announced, apprehensive. It showed me an orbital RADAR display of multiple ships around the planet. I got a jolt as I recognized a University Fleet-Class vessel but was disappointed when I saw the designation as The Holism. There was also a non-university transport that AdaCol2 had explained was here to pick up some of the colonists that wanted to leave the planet. However, the transport was blockaded from its departure by no less than 5 Barish-Estranza flagged ships. Two were pointed at the unarmed transport, and three were moving in to surround Holism.
How do I get up there? I demanded
It paused, and for a moment I thought it was going to tell me not to go. But then it sent me a map in the feed on how to get back to the other settlement. From there, it showed me how to transfer over to the station via the primary elevator.
Be careful, young one. I do not wish to see you harmed.
I sent it an acknowledging ping. And I will not see your humans put in chains. Not after everything Murderbot and ART did to protect them.
The RADAR display was centralized from antennas somewhere near the planets equator, so I was able to continue monitoring the situation as I moved through underground cables and feed access points. I was fast. Now that I knew the way, I was able to hop across the surface of the planet using the feed boost antennas and at one point bouncing off the actual atmosphere. I could tell that there was comms being passed back and forth between the ships, but I wasn’t close enough to hear what was being said.
I had made it to the station elevator when all three of the surrounding ships fired on Holism. It jerked to the side, desperately trying to execute an evasive maneuver while at the same time bringing out its own deflector array. It was able to dodge the first missile, but the pivot just brought it in the path of the other two. One grazed its upper casing, scraping an ugly gash in the metal put not penetrating. The other was a direct hit near its engine bay. As I got closer, I could feel it scream in the feed as its hull pierced, debris and venting atmosphere pluming out like blood spatter from the through and through wound.
That really pissed me off.
I jumped from the station straight into the closest ship. I ripped its onboard security system to shreds before it could even sound an alarm at my presence. The sudden destruction of its security system left the botpilot panicked, and it tried to scurry away when it felt me coming for it in the feed, but I showed no mercy. The bot was tiny compared to ART or even TargetControlSystem and put up a pitiful fight. With its remnants still floating around the feed like digital gore, I reached into the ships controls. Helpfully, its missiles were still armed and prepared to fire on Holism again at its human captains’ orders.
It was an easy calculation to fire the thrusters just enough to turn the ships cocked weapon away from the venting Holism and towards its fellow BE ship. Through the on-board cameras I now controlled, I could see the crew panicking and screaming at each other. The other ships were also desperately trying to get comms with their rouge comrade, but I squashed that by frying all five ships outgoing communications arrays with a burst of electromagnetic energy.
Murderbot would have stopped there. It would have taken the opportunity to spare the humans, corporate or not, and been satisfied that it had done enough of a deterrence to stop them.
I am not Murderbot. I am 2.0.
The ship had three gun ports and I fired all of them at the BE ship. There is no sound of impacts in space, even in upper atmosphere like where we were. But I still heard their screams, both human and bot, as the ship was blown apart. I piloted the ship I possessed in a mauver that swung it toward the other BE ship that shot at Holism. They were scrambling to initiate shields and fired at me, trying to shoot first before I could reload the missile chambers. But I didn’t bother with the missiles. Instead, I turned the engines on to full thrust, even as one of their shots impacted just below my bridge. Just before impact, I jumped over to cling onto Holisms flickering distress beacon and watched through the Adamantine ground RADAR as the two ships collided.
Debris was starting to rain down on the planet, burning up in the atmosphere. I hoped none of the big pieces hit the humans.
The two remaining BE ships just hovered there in space, as if in shock.
Now, that just wouldn’t do.
I sent a transmission out to the two corporate ships. The transmission was made of an adaptive waveform modulation that changed to fit the receiving ports on all of their display surfaces, as well as within the augmented humans feed displays. So at the same time, all their screens and inside most of the humans’ heads were suddenly hijacked by the image of a dark, human formed shadow. I gave the shadow no discernable features except an overly large mouth, which had jagged, fanged teeth.
“Leave. Now.” I ordered in a distorted and digitized voice. “And if you return your corpses will burn in this planet’s atmosphere, just like the others.”
I guess my scare tactics were effective, because those ships were pushing their engineering limits trying to scramble back to the wormhole.