seen on one image before it disappeared in the next instant.
We watched the whole thing through, taking almost six hours to go through the four and a half million images played on the screen so many per second. It was weird, like my eyes would recognize something or focus on a particular movement, and although it was gone in a split-second, it was like I could still see it; like my eyeballs had a limited memory capacity.
“So why aren’t they responding to contact?” Amir asked again to nobody in particular, as though voicing his thoughts and worries was a productive method of nurturing ideas.
“I have hypothesized different reasons for that,” Annie said, without chiming to indicate that her interface program was activated. That still frightened me a little, as much as the thought of having an actual child did, that my creation was thinking for itself.
“I can only surmise that the ANII”—she used the interface program initials for what was once her equal and now just a machine in her opinion—“has either malfunctioned or has been intentionally programmed to ignore my attempts to make contact. I am unable to take direct control without plugging in on a hard line to that facility. Attempts to access their systems via radio and long-range digital means have been blocked, so a wireless attempt nearby would also likely fail,” she said, betraying that she had tried to find a way to fix the communication issue without help.
Well I certainly didn’t program that, I told myself.
I fought the urge to interrupt, like me asking how she formulated and programmed her problem-solving algorithms was the most important thing in—or near—the world right now.
“So, it’s either knackered,” said Hendricks with a heavy sub-text of something to do with a stiff upper lip, “or they are simply ignoring us?”
“Yes,” Annie answered simply, leaving a silence in the chamber we occupied.
“Well,” Amir said as he pushed himself away from the console to float free of the foot straps in some space-like approximation of slapping his hands on his desk and launching into action, “I want to see more topographical scans and gather surface data before we do anything. Annie?”
“Yes?” she said, making everyone feel slightly uneasy as that word they had been using for so many years always prompted a chime in response and not the tone of voice of an unimpressed spouse.
“Launch the surface and atmospheric drones,” he said. When he heard no response he added, “please.”
There was a pause, then a slight shudder as a muted double thudding sound reverberated along the entire structure.
“Probes launched,” Annie announced, “adjusting position to compensate for launches … Done.”
“Annie?” I asked, not waiting for a response tone. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what, David?” she responded.
“Why did you tell us what you were doing with the orbit adjustment after the launch?” I knew she was programmed to do it, because I’d personally spent a month programming the subroutines which allowed her to control the orbit of the station automatically, but I’d never programmed her to explain what she was doing.
“I am undertaking a study of five human males and monitoring their vital signs in response to events which they do not fully understand,” she said. “I have already determined that the emotional state and physiological stress responses are significantly lower when verbal confirmations are provided, shall I continue to do this?”
I was dumbstruck. Not only was she able to even do that, but she was already studying us to be more streamlined. Exchanging looks with the others, who saw her explanation as reasonable and rational, I saw that they really didn’t understand why I was so shocked.
“Yes, please do,” I said, seeing Hendricks turn to Amir.
“If we are going to the surface,” he said seriously, “I need my team out of the freezer and briefed.”
~
Hendricks had woken, or got Annie to wake, the other six members of Sierra Team and helped them all in turn as they adjusted to being awake and in permanent free fall. Like the professional he was, he saw to their immediate needs and prioritized each one like a battlefield triage system. He made sure they were all set, and allowed them to gather themselves and come around in their own time. Even the toughest people he had ever met could not simply shrug off almost a thousand years spent frozen, and it was like each year they had spent in stasis cost them a few agonizing seconds of extreme hangover symptoms to repay.
When they were all