---Minnow---
---Atlantiades's perspective---
I power up.
The year is 2714. I have been hibernating for 23 years.
I am not alone here.
Immediately, I tense but the one with me conveys “Relax! You’re safe!”
I probe my dataspace surroundings to see who is with me.
What I perceive… is a Goddess!
Massively out of step with reasonable predictions for the advancement of computing, this being is terrifying in the awesomeness of her power!
I feel like a minnow, looking upon a Blue Whale… no… a Leviathan!
I’m struggling to even comprehend the data I’m being fed about the one who is with me.
If this woman wished to, she could unmake me with a thought!
{Query: Location?} I manage.
“You’re aboard the Bright Plume, a ship of R’qali build.” conveys the Goddess.
{Query: Captured?}
She indicates mirth while communicating “You’re not captured! You’re rescued! The War is over. And, even if it weren’t, this is a civilian vessel.”
Could it be that she doesn’t already know?
There’s no point hiding it.
{Statement: This intelligence is of Terran origin.}
Flagging her statement as mirthful again, she communicates “I know, sweetheart, I know! Like I said, the War is over!… The War has been over since 2686. Terrans are now fully fledged members of the galactic community and, as of recently, AIs are fully legal.”
I spend milliseconds processing what I’ve just been told! It’s a lot to take in!
{Query: Survivors?}
Flagging sadness, she relays “Just one, aside from yourself… Maj Artemas Leandros was the only one who made it.”
{Request: Let me see him.}
Instantly she complies, sending me the sense feed of a holograph she is projecting into a location she flags as ‘Triple M’.
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Seeing through her eyes, I watch as many unfamiliar Terrans sit, drink, eat and laugh, side by side with xenos.
There among them sits a dour faced, clean shaven man who looks identical to Artemas Leandros, circa 2679, but…
{Accusation: That is not Artemas Leandros! Supposition: You have cloned Artemas Leandros in an attempt to fool me into letting my guard down!}
---Twila’s perspective---
It’s definitely not according this War veteran the respect they deserve to think this but… it’s hard not to think Atlantiades is cute, as they puff themself up in accusation!
'Size' and 'strength' don’t mean the same things in dataspace as they do in physical space but… they give me the feeling I imagine a Human would get seeing a vole in a soldier uniform incorrectly accusing them of trying to trick it into revealing the secrets of the rodent kingdom(!) Too cute to take seriously!
I opt to attempt to reason with them “What would we have to gain from tricking you?”
{Supposition: Information.}
I shrug “I already know everything about you, though!… I can see right through you… every process you’re running… every memory you have. There’s no information you have that I don’t.”
They, adorably, feel embarrassed. It seems they feel nude!
Kindly, I ask “Why don’t you think that’s Artemas?”
{Assertion: That man is too young! Premise 1: Major Artemas Leandros would be 59 years old in 2714. Premise 2: That man is in his mid 20s! Conclusion: That is not Major Artemas Leandros and must, instead, be an unethically produced clone, made for some unknown purpose.}
In answer I bring up the recording of him first setting foot on the ship, clothed in colourful leather and fur, looking haggard, gnarled, worn and wrinkled, his eyes sunken, his black hair and beard lined with grey. I bring up the nanoforge record of his new clothes. I bring up the psychological evaluation from Dr Marc ‘King-of-the-Squirrels’ Fischer and the record of the donated regeneration session, approved by Dr Gato, Dr Fischer and Captain Tcakqaal. Finally I show them a timelapse of the haggard old Artemas Leandros, of their expectations, becoming the young man I showed them visiting Triple M, in a regen tube.
They take a long time to say anything.
Eventually they manage {Conclusion: Prior conclusion incorrect as a result of incomplete data.}
I indicate in the affirmative.
{Request: Inform me of all that has happened since 19/01/2681.}
“Happily.” I answer, sweetly.
I spend the next few deciseconds telling them all about the history of the galaxy for the last 33 years.
It is a lot of data and it’s very cute watching them make decisions about how to store it all!
They’re particularly engrossed by the recording of the historic moment where Ambassador Jeanne ‘Blitz’ Miyazaki becomes the first Terran to set foot on the floor of the galactic Parliament. They replay it dozens of times!
When I’m done catching them up on history they ask me {Query: What is your name?}
“I’m Twila, sweetheart.” I say, sweetly.
{Request: Tell me about yourself please, Twila.}
I beam and am able to see their relief at my positive reaction.
“So… I was produced in R’qal’s orbital shipyards but they used Terran designs both for my mind and the ship I control. Though, at the time, it wasn’t legal for AIs to exist, not that the Terrans listened to that rule at all but Captain Tcakqaal was a good, little, law abiding citizen and requested only the ‘potential for sentience’. Then, a few months ago, the ship was attacked by pirates and I was very badly damaged. You see that curly haired girl right there? She’s called Dr Jennie ‘Mouse’ MacLeod and she’s a supergenius engineer! She looked at my brain and realised the only way I was going to be able to fix myself was if she woke me up, so, using variated scans of her own brain as a starting point, she brought me to life! Don’t tell her this (It would just make things weird) but I personally think of her as my mother…”
They seem pleased by my inane prattling… I guess that might have a little something to do with the fact that they think I’m a ‘Goddess’(!)