Chapter 157: [ Book 2 ] Chapter 17: Predictions

Note: Short chapter. Will probably be combined into the previous chapter in the book's final form

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A little over a full standard day was all it took for the organics in the Tyrcellus system to find themselves obsessing over Sister Celecsia and her Human savior.

The short footage of the Sanctum incident spread like a viral contagion over GalaxyNet, dominating social hubs, commcasts, and news media. Already, the two warring Pree factions had begun to use it as fodder for their narratives. The singers were either selling out their culture and possibly their bodies, or they were embracing the interconnected nature of their future among the stars.

Watching organics engage in digital warfare reaffirmed how susceptible their processing capability is to emotional manipulation. I observed their irrationality behind my cold logic, basking in my superiority while contemplating how it was I was created from such flawed beings.

SCAM predicted that the event’s unexpected cultural sway would attract the influence—and interference—of outside forces as it spread throughout the known galaxy. Continued association with the singers increased the severity of consequences for the crew if discovered.

Peeking at the ship’s sensors and comms activity, I detected no signs that we were under surveillance of direct threat. The only ships nearby were inbound or outbound freighters. The data was put to good use, though.  I used it to stimulate my processing capabilities lest I succumb to rampancy from the dullard existence of a mechanic bot.

Despite the increased risks, the temporary arrangement would soon come to an end. For now, we puttered along to our next destination while the troupe pranced and sang within the cargo hold. Warriors in the battle of ideologies. (I much preferred phased plasma weapons and micro-missiles.)

But first, the crew and passengers needed to make it through the next few days.

The stress factors weighing on each group meant it didn’t take long for conflict to erupt between them. When passenger Ruki requested our help in arranging a makeshift rehearsal configuration in the bay, I was surprised to hear Idiot agree to it.

“Yes. I will assist in any manner that falls within my capabilities and safety regulations,” Idiot said.

“We’re diverting away from our primary objective of sustaining ship operations,” I chided Idiot.

“Assisting clients with the transportation of their wares can take temporary priority as it is in direct support of ship operations,” Idiot answered, overruling me.

I didn’t believe the simpleton AI, and demanded to see the priorities directive in our system. Idiot pointed it out and sure enough, it was right. The passengers, as the client, were paying for the transport of their wares. In this case, a ‘performance.’ They had non-emergency priority in addressing their cargo concerns. (It was legitimate but I still planned to covertly run a diagnostic on Idiot’s logic module afterward.)

Idiot plodded us to the bay and began to help the performance troupe. Captain Anderton’s disapproval of the arrangement was not surprising. He quickly put an end to our help when he ventured into the cargo bay after Celescia injured herself.

(Even with the performers’ athletic prowess, organics can be fragile, especially in the face of the gravitational realities of space travel.)

Ordered to return to our work, I checked in on Celescia’s medical treatment in the medbay. The amount of time and effort dedicated to what was obviously an insignificant tissue trauma was indicative of organics’ inefficiencies. But SCAM’s indications of attraction between the organics Wesley and Ruki made it worthwhile. I predicted their infatuation would cause strife among the other members of their respective groups.

I would have to wait and see.

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