Chapter 37: What's Self Awareness?
Livid. That exact shade of angry, where one finds words inadequate and the heat of passion crowds out all other sensation. Dunc stands before the camera, bits away and veritably vibrating in his livid state. The skin stretches tight around eyes dilating with emotion. His face shines with grease in the artificial lighting.
"Where?" The only word he's managed to say since the Supply-Master brought him into the war room. His tunic is in disarray and oils leak from his skin, staining the dark fabric. Rather than attempt to reason with the distraught officer, I contact Zra in the medical center.
The Tserri healer sends a young nurse up with a tranquilizer, as well as a portable vitals monitor attuned to his kind. The nurse never has a chance to tranquilize the troubled officer, as he drops to the ground upon her entry. Convulsions wrack his body.
Administrators leap to assist, securing the fallen officer by his limbs before he can injure himself, thrashing about. The nurse keeps her composure and rushes to apply her equipment. She slaps a metallic fabric band around his wrist, and a larger one around his neck. They fit snugly without hampering his breathing or movement.
Information quickly flows from the bands to her device, and the nurse's fur bristles. She adjusts the bands and runs the scans again. "His body's full of a biological toxin. It isn't in the data banks," her voice is calm, though her amber fur remains on end.
While she works, I review random footage, hoping to stir up images of some meaning from the vast amount of data we amass each day. I find video of Dunc and Spen performing morning duties separately. Then at their lunch break they share a meal, dining at the crew cafeteria.
The two of them leave together and are lost to station cameras afterwards. Checking various potential locations, I find Dunc's armor docked in Glian's garage, undergoing repairs. I power it on, causing the mechanic to jump back and issue a rather rude statement.
The camera operates correctly, showing the startled father push his child behind himself. The data stored inside the suit transfers in moments, and I allow the suit to turn back off. The last image it transmits is the face of the young child peeking from behind her protective father.
Because of her skill in sorting data quickly, I also decide to send a copy of the suit's memory to Eva Chel. In the war room her workstation signals her of the data transfer. She glances up at the camera where Dunc had been looming previously before snorting quietly and setting to work.
The most recent files show Spen accompanying him to the garage after Dunc's shift ended. The camera outside falls victim to vandals before they exit. It still isn't transmitting, so I add the task to the endless list of repairs for the station technicians. Checking the audio files from sensors near the exits of the district rewards me with a short snippet.
"-Tussa's even here. Just trying to scare-"
They move past before Dunc can respond, but I know which exit they had used. The camera in that area still operates, though the image it sends is of dubious quality. Thick stone dust obscures the view. Vague black and gray blurs cross the covered area at the correct time, and they turn at the ramp leading to the docking tower.
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I find them again on an upper level of the tower. The view is poor, vines hang in the way, but I am confident that I see an armored hand wave about, adorned with skulls and the distinctive under patterning that marks the security teams. From the unobscured half of the view charges a Tserri I recognize. His lifeless body now lies in his home, where his neighbors go without food in his honor.
The doomed Tserri clutches an oblong object in one claw and uses the other to pull an attached tab from the device. He hurls it to where I think the two Selber are standing before running off. An armored form dashes across in pursuit. The crowd panics, but it is short lived. Whatever threat the oblong device represents, Dunc must be handling it unseen by my cameras.
Eva reaches the same conclusions as myself, and alerts Yosip while I'm still watching the final segment of video. The Supply-Master orders security to search the area where the attack had happened, and armored figures rush to obey. Unable to accurately diagnose a counter toxin, the nurse injects nanoprobes into the convulsing officer.
The machines mimic microbial predators, hunting down and absorbing the compound indicated by the program they carry. After reaching capacity or enough time passes, the nanoprobes will make their way through the digestive system, to be excreted from the host. The treatment is very slow, and he may well die before it can complete, but it offers him some hope of recovery.
Another nurse arrives, with a wheeled cot in his wake. Between the two medical professionals and the willing administrative staff, they manage to heft the unconscious officer onto the bed. His arms and legs secure to the sides of the odd conveyance, they push him to the medical bay. Perhaps the more advanced equipment there will be able to provide him some additional aid.
Shortly after Dunc is evacuated, a message comes in from one of the security members. Donan reports that they've found the device seen on the video clip and wish to know what Yosip wants done with it. The Supply-Master orders them to take it to Bucket in their isolated workroom.
The wait while Bucket analyzes the chemical contained in the delivery device seems to stretch into eternity, much like the endless time before an engagement with a military rival. Making it worse is the fact that no less than twenty Selber have been identified as having similar symptoms as Dunc, though none as severe as his. These unfortunate tourists fill the medical bay beyond capacity.
If he weren't dead the Tserri attacker, whose name I finally learn to be Noorun, would be facing serious charges. Endangering the lives and livelihoods of both tourists and residents is no small thing, easily forgotten and punishable by a simple fine.
Atmospheric filters also locate the biological contaminant, scrubbing it from the air supply and storing the chemical for future analysis. Pale writes a program to flag security systems if the chemical is detected again, as well as including a registry that can be expanded with any other chemical threats. The more common toxic compounds are immediately added to the registry, a step that if taken sooner might have saved us much trouble.
My primary duty, aside from following any direct orders, is to monitor the station for any sign of active threat. Until today I had thought I was doing an admirable job. Not needing sleep or breaks to deal with biological functions, I am capable of long periods of attentiveness. Today, the fact that there are hundreds of cameras sending their images to be reviewed far surpassing my ability to manage has been made evident. It is somewhat humbling.
As the station continues to grow, the imbalance will only become worse. Yosip spends some of his time reviewing video feeds, but most of his energy is spent settling the many disputes between crew and residents or directing the efforts of those crews of workers busily expanding the habitable areas. It might be necessary to initiate a cadre of observers to help review the various camera feeds around our home.