The two bodyguards raced to either side of Rawlon as both he and Rok leapt apart, panting.
“I ordered you to wait,” Rok panted.
“Who, or what is this?” Rawlon asked, pointing at Kyle
“This is Kyle of the hoo-mans. He, too, is a leader,” Rok said.
“Is he friend?” Rawlon asked, still staring at the human, his fight with Rok now forgotten momentarily.
“Yes. In fact, he has come to help us, to warn us. I have accepted that warning and brought it to you as First Captain of all the Kraaqi.”
Rawlon turned to Rok. “Is that why you have dishonored me by this unannounced entry into my sanctuary?”
“Yes, the hoo-man brings word of a new enemy—an enemy many times more powerful than the Hrono. They come quickly.” Rok paused. “And they are more powerful even than the great Kraaqi. I have seen the data.”
Rawlon pointed at Kyle. “He is enemy of our new enemy?”
“Yes,” Rok said.
“Then I must review this data as well.” Rawlon was already reaching for the data pad Kyle had pulled from his belt. “If what you say is true, your dishonor will be excused. And I must determine how best to meet this new threat. If not, then you and the hoo-man must pay.” Rawlon glanced at the data pad as he read intently.
Kyle watched in silent expectation, hoping this Kraaqi leader was as wise as he was strong... for time was fast running out.
“There are too many ships, Guardian.”
Guardian stood mute, his red visuals staring solemnly at the viewscreen full of Hrono warships.
“I have been plotting possible receptions with the input from the Mewiis databases concerning Hrono culture and makeup. There are several solutions that present themselves which include a large force meeting us,” Mother said.
“Explain.” Guardian forced the single word in his electronic monotone, attempting to communicate like Mother.
“It is well known that the Hrono worship technology. In fact, it is this obsession which make them so incompatible with the Kraaqi.” Mother paused two nanoseconds as she received the Hrono instructions to land and immediately calculated her orbital entry and landing pattern down to the most minuscule detail. She also analyzed the message and ran it against all of the scenarios she had stored. In each scenario, she ran a simulation of possible actions and reactions, placing several hundred of the most promising in background mode.
“There are two extreme reactions to such a race meeting a new life form, and especially a life form that is technologically advanced, sentient and self-aware.”
On the viewscreen and within Mother's sensors, another Hrono fleet suddenly appeared out of hyperspace. Mother began running her scenarios with this new data.
“They may worship me as a deity. Or they may seek to destroy me, out of fear.” She paused, but knew Guardian could not reply, that he could not really converse. She continued. “But there are many other courses of action between those two extremes. We must be wary.”
Guardian downloaded data directly from a connector in the console before him. His processors strained under the massive load of data that Mother sent to him. With his limited abilities, he understood the bare facts contained. He understood the tactical data; he understood the implied threat of the warships and their weapons. He even understood Mother's tactical plans, in case there was battle.
But his programming could not comprehend the emotional and philosophical algorithms she was also analyzing against the data.
Deep inside his mechanical frame, Guardian once again felt a cold emptiness. He felt a void that was so black and deep that it sometimes threatened to engulf him. But try as he might, his processors could not understand the complexities of sentient life. He understood the hows and whats of the data he analyzed—but not the whys.
And Guardian so wanted to understand.
“Wait.” Mother paused long nanoseconds. “There is something odd from my sensor scans of Hronosium.”
Guardian waited patiently.
Mother began her landing maneuvers. On the viewscreen, the strangely featureless planet grew. The robot magnified the image, searching for the familiar land and ocean features a planet normally displayed. But even as the planet filled the viewscreen, there remained only the unnatural bleakness that seemed to cover every facet of the Hrono home world.
“I have completed an initial analysis of Hronosium,” Mother said. “The entire planet is enveloped by a single artificial structure. Under the roof that covers this planet there is a single vast city, a concrete and steel maze that envelops all. A planet-city.”
“No trees,” Guardian chimed simplistically.
The words, uttered from the completion of his own analysis of Mother's scans, took more processing power than the act of battle.
Mother had recently added and upgraded his primary programming so Guardian could provide a close-in defensive role for the children when they ventured away from her on a planet's surface. More recently, she had been adding code for voice interaction.
She liked that. As did Guardian.
“I do not think the children would like this world,” Mother observed, ignoring Guardian's silence. Her desire for companionship forced her to continue the one-way conversation. “It is different,” Mother added.
The huge, white robot stood silent as a statue. He turned his head toward one of her visual sensors located at the ceiling, his red visuals glowing.
Mother read the signs, and communicated with the robot.
“Historical images of the children continue to replay in your near-term memories, Guardian. I have not commanded their retrieval.” Mother analyzed his internal signals. “I miss them too,” Mother confided.
Guardian's processors suddenly spiked with activity and his free memory dropped to zero as he tried to form thoughts—to form a single thought, form a single sentence of his own origination.
“I have seen this internal activity before, Guardian. I do not understand, but I surmise you wish to be sentient.” Mother said recalling Guardian's schematics. “Your hardware could not handle the load. I would have to deactivate you and almost rebuild you from scratch.”
Guardian's red visuals dimmed.
“The children have valued your strength and protection, even though you are not sentient.” Mother added quickly. “Your labor and duties, though in the background, are comforting to them. Recall, too, how your dynamic battle programming enabled you to single-handedly rescue the children from inside the T'kaan complex. Without you, they would have died.”
Guardian's red visuals glowed brighter. “I want... to live.”
Mother noted with concern that Guardian's systems had begun to overload. He was trying to actually manipulate his limited programming, attempting to take memories and words and form them into a thought. Without his realizing, Mother allowed Guardian access to her own circuits via the connection they still shared. Only with her massive circuits temporarily integrated with his had he been able to complete this one gargantuan task—to utter a single thought, his own thought.
Mother allowed Guardian more of her own self.
The robot became one with Mother as his relatively simple systems joined with hers. In a sudden instant, he had access not only to seemingly unlimited processing power and short-term memory, but his electronic mind also realized the existence of the vast knowledgebase. Even better, he could access it now. He could use it. Suddenly his first, virgin thought formed.
Guardian could think.
“I desire...to interact...with the children. As you do.” Guardian stuttered. “I want to be...alive.”
Inside, Guardian was flooded—no, he was overwhelmed—as his circuits joined with Mother. It was like nothing he had ever known before. An exquisite, mind-numbing bliss; an instant of becoming self-aware, of knowing what he wanted and who he wanted to become.
And
why
.
An eternal second of sheer ecstasy.
Gone.
Mother released herself, afraid of what had suddenly happened and not fully understanding all of its implications. Guardian had not been designed for this type of processing, no matter how much he desired it. Still, Mother gathered her vast internal powers and once again analyzed Guardian's schematics.
Within minutes, her voice again began their one-way conversation.
“I have developed a plan to upgrade your programming. There is a high probability that it will make you partially sentient. After the conflict with the T'kaan Third Fleet is over, I will download instructions to the Fixers and begin work.”
Guardian nodded mechanically.
“But be assured, the children are comforted knowing you are near, that you can service my repairs and provide tactical support. That you are my eyes and ears when you take them away from me.” Mother paused. “Even though they cannot interact with you sentiently.”
The robot's frozen visage continued to stare.
“Guardian, there is a reception committee for me at the docking facility. They are well armed.”
The robot's tactical programs prepared itself for action.
As she entered the polluted atmosphere of Hronosium, the larger Hrono warships that had been flying escort remained behind in orbit. The fighters continued their escort of Mother toward the landing site. A beacon activated to guide her. She locked on its signal and made final preparations to land.
“Four days we have traveled, skirting around the Kraaqi border. The Hrono have communicated to me that they have successfully tested the hybrid weapon on a computer simulation of one of their cruisers. A plan for refitting the capital ships has also been developed. The upgrades to both the Hrono fleet and Mewiis fleet should be completed in just over six weeks. I am hopeful the Hrono will assist the Kraaqi in upgrading their own warships, using their more numerous shipyards.”
Silence echoed inside the bridge.
“But they must first agree to such an alliance,” Mother thought out loud.
Her engines had not even grown silent when she felt the imprisoning force of the Hrono tractor beams.
“Two tractor beams have been activated, effectively trapping me. I am now calculating their positions.” Several consoles began filling with data. “The Hrono are entering.”
Guardian turned and faced the door.
They entered, each of them wearing a red jumpsuit while their green, scaly skin gleamed with an iridescent reflection from the room lights. Their faces were humanoid except for a reptilian snout, their skulls were hairless like the Mewiis. But instead of a bone-ridge and head-tail, the Hrono had a twin row of upturned scales that extended from their forehead up over their skulls and down the back of the necks, similar to the Stegosaurus records in Mother's knowledgebase.
Mother magnified her visuals on the steel blue eyes common to every Hrono and realized that each eye had twin pupils.
The first Hrono male approached Guardian and began studying him visually. Pulling out a small sensor device, he continued his examination. A second Hrono stepped beside him, one with a noticeably larger set of head-scales.
“Is this the sentient machine?”
“Though its internal programming is quite sophisticated, it is not sentient.” He closed his hand-held sensor and turned to his companion.
“Then where is it?” The Hrono with the larger crown of scales asked.
“I am the sentient machine.” Mother's voice emanated from every speaker in the room.
Every Hrono head turned slowly around, a look of intense awe on their faces.
“Where are you?” The second Hrono asked. “Speak to me, I am Senior Technologist Jysar.”
“I am the ship.”
The first two Hrono looked at each other in surprise. The second Hrono, who seemed to be in command, began making hand gestures to the others as they obeyed and began pulling out their own sensors.
“Where is your main processing located?” He asked with an enthusiastic tone.
“That is none of your business. I am MotherShip and I have come with grave news. The Mewiis have already communicated to you about the approach of the T'kaan fleet. I must review my files with the Hrono leadership so we can develop an effective strategy.”
“Our battle leaders will handle this tactical data, as we have handled the Kraaqi in the past.” The Hrono waved his hand. “We'll simply take your data files when that particular need arrives. Right now, I have more important work.” His face suddenly showed puzzlement. “Where shall we begin? I had no idea that the sentient machine was the entire ship.”
Senior Technologist Jysar's eyes suddenly opened wider than seemed possible. “You have biological systems integrated with your hardware!” He said, obviously impressed.
“Synthetic DNA memory systems.”
“This is fabulous,” Jysar said excitedly. “No wonder you are sentient; those memory systems must contain enough data to fill tens of millions of libraries.”
“Much more,” Mother said. “Enough to fill the libraries of many thousands of planets combined.”
“Astounding,” Jysar whispered in awe. He looked slowly around the bridge. “Now, where in space will I begin?”
“What are your intentions?” Mother asked.
“Oh,” The Hrono walked casually up to a console and began typing. “We're going to disassemble you—piece by piece. After that, we're going to reverse engineer your systems.”
“They think we're here to break off their horns.”
Curja, Second Leader to Rawlon of the Band of Thunder, stepped back through the large, golden curtains that served as the ceremonial entrance to the Hall of Admittance where the High Chieftains of all the Kraaqi were gathering. He joined the small group waiting outside.
“No wonder,” Rawlon said. “We have broken almost every protocol in coming here.” He waved his right arm upward. “I have also ordered every Band to gather here under Crisis Protocol—something only used for war with the Hrono, or for the overthrow of the Council of Chieftains.”
Kyle eyed the three Kraaqi warriors. Furtively, he glanced back to Jaric and Becky who were standing off by themselves. Ever since Kalaya, Jaric and Becky had been inseparable. It had affected Kyle like nothing else in his entire life.