The Black Gate (The Messenger #11) - J.N. Chaney Page 0,71
conduits made of the same transparent material, giving their occupants the means to flap, float, or even levitate between tanks.
“I think calling this a zoo is right,” Conover said. “Each one of these tanks seems to contain a controlled habitat specifically intended to support whatever species it contains.”
“But they’re all really small creatures,” Amy said. “Maybe the larger ones are kept in a different part of the ship.”
Jexin looked pointedly at an insectoid creature sprouting a nasty array of spines. Saliva—or venom—dripped from three fangs, splayed apart in an upper lip that quivered in her direction. “I hope there aren’t bigger versions of some of the things in here.”
“Or spiders with wings,” Leira muttered.
“I do not believe it is likely that these are simply small creatures,” Custodian said. “Rather, based on many of their characteristics, it would appear that these are immature versions of their species.”
“So what happens to them when they grow up?” Jexin asked.
Dash gestured forward. “I suspect the answer to that is in a different part of the ship.” He smiled. “Shall we?”
Jexin looked again at the spine-laden, insectoid thing. “I can hardly wait to meet the parents.”
Over the course of the next several hours, Dash, Leira, and Jexin picked their way through the ship. As Custodian had suggested, other compartments held larger, more mature versions of the species carried on board, in larger vessels. The ultimate destination of all of them seemed to be one of five habitats maintained in large, separate compartments: one aquatic, one aerial, and three for land-based lifeforms. There were several smaller, more specialized environments for the weird outliers, creatures that thrived in liquid oxygen or wafted about on gusts of ammonia and methane wind.
“Definitely a zoo,” Dash finally said, then stopped, looked across a small compartment sandwiched between two habitat modules, and brightened. “Just saw something that looks like a control station or console. Conover, stand by to do your thing.”
Covered by Leira and Jexin, Dash walked along a catwalk hanging between the huge, clear aquatic module and a section that was filled with snow, ice, and rocks. He shuddered in sympathy, passing by and over the small, glacial setting, then arrived at the console. It rested on a small platform, set apart from the main catwalk.
“Okay, Conover, what do you want me to do?”
“You have that specialized comm transceiver we gave you, right?”
Dash touched his belt. “Right here.”
“Okay. For now, just put it on the console and activate it.”
Dash did. As Conover, aided by Kristin, got to work, Dash stepped back, aiming to stay out of the way.
This remote hacking system had been another of Conover’s brainstorms. Any of the AIs could engage in hacking alien systems, but the Pulsar was optimized for it. The trouble was that Conover and the Pulsar could only be in one place at a time, so the remote hacking setup was an attempt to make their talents available to anyone who might need them. Of course, none of them had envisioned trying to deploy the system across a gap of almost three hundred light-years, so it would be a good first test of the system.
“Dash, your two!”
Dash didn’t hesitate. By the time Leira had finished shouting it over the comm, he was already dropping into a crouch and turning both his attention and his mag-rifle to his two o’clock. Something had just come scuttling around the bulk of a structural beam and now came directly at him. He raised the rifle—
But paused. The bot—because that’s what it obviously was—just kept scampering forward, but not in a way that suggested any great hurry. He saw small manipulators, but no apparent weapons. On impulse, Dash stood and squeezed in beside the console on its adjoining platform. The bot just carried on past him. It showed not the slightest interest in any of them and seemed to be focused on business of its own.
“Dash, we heard Leira shout? What’s going on?” Amy asked.
“I think we just met one of the crew.”
“Holy shit, a Deeper?”
“Not exactly,” Dash replied. “A bot. Nothing like a Dreadfoot, though. This was more like a maintenance unit or something. Sort of a glorified coffee maker, but without any caffeine onboard.”
“So, useless?” Conover asked.
“Probably. At the minimum, not harmful,” Dash said.
“Well, I guess if you’re planning a forty-million-year journey, bots are the way to go,” Amy said.
“Bots that can reliably run for forty-million years?” Leira said, her voice somewhere between awe and fear. “That’s some amazing tech.”