John C. Wright - Golden Age 03 by The Golden Transcendence

Author:The Golden Transcendence [Transcendence, The Golden]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-01-07T15:17:47+00:00

NOTHING

Atkins stood alone within one of the wide corridors of the carousel, only a few miles from the bridge. The light was dim. The curving deck underfoot was paneled in an endless checkerboard of black thought boxes, all quiet as a mausoleum now, empty of any mind. The bulkheads to either side were crisscrossed with a tapestry of crystal cables and motionless leaves of dark purple glass, a type of technology or branch of science Atkins did not recognize. The carousel through which this corridor ran was at rest, and solar gravity made the local “down” not quite at right angles to the present deck underfoot. Because the deck curved, it seemed to Atkins as if he stood on the slope of a tall hill, a concave hill, whose slope grew greater the higher one climbed. Above him, the corridor rose, becoming vertical, then curving further to become ceiling, with inverted furniture and formations hanging head-downward overhead. Far below, in the distance, at the bottom of the slope, the deck was level, and he could see the glint and glimmer of some rapid activity, silvery nanomachines and diamond-glinting microbots swarming from one bulkhead to another, looking for all the world like a little stream of water babbling. Beyond this stream, the curve of the corridor rose again, like the opposite slope of a valley, narrowing with the distance, until it was blocked from sight by the curve of the overhead.

Because it reminded him of wilderness, because the ship was so unthinkably vast, so empty, Atkins felt alone.

He drew his soul dagger and spoke to the mind it housed: “Estimate the feasibility of seizing control of this ship. What are her defenses against an orchestrated mutiny?”

The dagger said, “Sir! Seizure by what party, how armed, and when?”

“By me. Right now. Before the lunatic owner flies the ship straight down into the hands of the enemy and turns her over to him.”

“Sir! The thought-box ports have been jammed open. We, or anyone else, can insert any routines or mind information we wish without any fear of hindrance. Operating time will depend upon volume of information given. However, the system controls have been physically isolated from the ship mind, and every single connection (there are roughly four trillion circuits involved) would have to be reestablished into order to affect the operation of the environmental, configurational, drive, and navigational controls. More time would be required to reconnect secondary drives, tertiary drives, retrorailguns, communication hierarchies, internal system monitors, detection dishes, dynamic weight distribution, and balance controls, et cetera. The time involved is significantly greater than the useful lifespan of the ship, since each connection would have to be made by hand while the ships onboard systems attempted to dismantle it, and some of the main connections are behind adamantium hull armor, which would require the staff and equipment of the Jovian Equatorial Supercollider, as well as Gannis’s staff and effort, to dismantle and repair. Sir! The project is not feasible.”

“Make alternate suggestions.” “Sir, yes, sir. Suggestion one: Mine the antimatter fuel cells to destroy all internal decks and quarters.

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