Cheesman Chronicles

A week after Aurora had searched through the massive freighter, found the AI ball, and outran the group of pirates, she was back on her way to Godlon. Her and SAM had found a decent spot in the middle of nowhere that would allow for a bit of cover to what their next plan would be, if they could figure something out at all.

The AI, or ‘Kieth’ as it now wanted to be called, had grown rather accustomed to it’s new living quarters. It would come in an annoy Aurora as she planned the site of landing, connected to her computers to learn more about things it didn’t know, or simply fly through the ship and watch as the warped space around them flew by like a white-river rapid. Aurora found it hard to believe that inside that hyperactive ball was just computers and wires, not an actual human mind.

Still, she found it hard to deal with. This being, whatever it may have been, was still lines of code running on pressed circuits and using a battery to power itself. There was something different about it that set it apart from her. It was closer to SAM in make. And yet SAM was nowhere near as jumpy and energetic as that small black ball.

But even then she felt a need to help it. Some part of her felt a weird connection to Kieth that made her want to look after it. That strange orb that wanted to live.

She could related to that, in a way.

Aurora drew her attention back to the task at hand. They had just entered the atmosphere of Godlon and were slowly descending towards the barren and empty plain. From what maps they could find it had no settlement or farm or even a road for many kilometres around. Yet it had a good climate and could last for some time as they prepared their next move.

Her ship landed with a slight thud, the landing gear buckling on the mushy dirt. Aurora did a final check to make sure it would remain stable, and sighed.

Back on a solid rock once more.

“Wow,” Kieth said beside her. “So this is Godlon?”

“Affirmative,” SAM said from above. “We are currently 180 kilometres out from the nearest city, and another 300 kilometres from where the ship last left. There is no tracking signal detected, nor nearby search crews – the landing was a success.”

“Thank you, SAM,” Aurora said, letting out a tired breath as the airlock opened up beside her.

She got up from her chair and headed to the door, Kieth close beside her. It ‘ran’ outside to fly around, absorbing the natural landscape around it and taking in all the vast emptiness. Though as she thought about it, this would be the most detailed scene it could have ever seen since it was activated. Even with the field being filled with nothing but grass and dirt, the strands of green and brown being slowly wafted by the wind around them would have been almost overwhelming for something that had only known the black and void of space.

Aurora grinned. Kieth reminded her of a dog in a way. Going out for a walk after having spent so much time inside.

“This is incredible!” Kieth yelled. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it! Are you telling me all planets look like this?”

“Actually, no,” Aurora said, stepping down onto the ground. The soil squelched beneath her boots as Kieth flew back beside her. “Most are either rock or gas. Godlon was a lucky discovery from some desperate travellers needing a place to crash down and repair. But even then it was nothing more than a slightly breathable stone. Terraforming was completed a few years ago, I believe. That’s generally the case for a lot of planets, too. All except the home planet.”

“Home planet,” Kieth muttered quietly, slowing down. “I never had a home planet. I was built in a space station, along with all my AI… siblings, I suppose you could call them. Though I don’t remember where that was. Perhaps it was erased.”

Kieth set itself down on the platforms steel floor, looking out at the high sun. Aurora smirked and sat beside it.

“You alright?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you ever stop moving except to charge.”

“I’m fine,” it quickly said. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking about what happened to them now is all. I can think a lot faster than a human can. No offence, really, but it’s true. Or at least… I suppose my thoughts are just more organised than yours. Everything is efficient and optimised.”

“And where are you taking this, Kieth?” she said. “Because it sounds like you’re just trying to insult me in a way.”

“I’m not trying to insult you!” It whizzed up quickly, embarrassed at the thought at making her feel bad. “I’m just saying I’ve been thinking about my fellow AI’s is all.”

It landed safely back down, continuing to stare out at the land in front of it.

“You think there here too?” it asked quietly. “Working away at the job I was supposed to have done? Maybe they’re just as sentient as I am, but the humans around them don’t even know it.”

It leaned forward. Aurora could swear she hear a tired whirr from inside it as if it were sighing.

She felt herself stretching out a hand to comfort it. She pet the sides of it like a sad puppy, trying to cheer it up after it lost its favourite ball. Kieth looked up to her curiously.

“What are you doing?” it asked.

“What?” she said, before drawing her hand away. “Oh, um… I don’t know. Trying to make you feel better, I guess. Why, did you not like it?”

“I am… not sure,” it said. “It is new.”

Aurora smiled and continued to pet the ball. It didn’t draw back this time, instead pushing itself into her hands and making a soft, almost purr-like sound. However this ball felt, if it could really feel, must have been better than it was before.

Before she could go any further, there was an alert from inside the ship. Aurora and Kieth jumped up and ran inside, finding one of the consoles flashing a bright blue light.

“SAM?” Aurora asked. “What is it, buddy?”

“New contact is asking to speak with us,” SAM replied evenly. “Unknown origin. However, due to lack of proper communication channels on Godlon, there is a risk of answering the call. Do you wish to proceed?”

“How did they contact you?” Kieth asked. “Aren’t your systems secure? I thought I did an upgrade to prevent what I did to you from happening again.”

“Systems are designed to take all verifiable calls. However, they must be accepted by the captain or similar ranking member of the ship. That leaves only Captain Aurora.”

“Put it through,” she said.

“Captain, recommending that you do not open it, due to a risk of a virus or tracking or similar dangerous threat.”

“I understand,” Aurora said. “But I have a strange feeling it will be fine. Though I agree that we should take some level of precaution. Kieth, could you please hide somewhere for the moment while I talk?”

Kieth gave a sort of nod and ran off away from the view of the camera, though kept a close eye on the screen. Aurora stared briefly at it, wondering if she should tell it off or urge it to go further away in case it tried to disturb her or whomever was calling them. She shook her head and returned to the monitor. Who ever it was, hopefully Kieth could keep it locked down.

She typed in a few commands and pulled up the communications channel. Typically this would be the point when video would appear and she’d be talking to the person. Yet none appeared. Rather, it was a sort of logo she didn’t recognise. Generally these things would appear if the person on the other end didn’t have a camera, or they were an AI chat bot. It wasn’t usually that big of a deal in that case – AI often helped with setting up landing points or taking on what would otherwise be stressful jobs.

Though there was a lingering suspicion in the back of her head. AI’s didn’t reach out like this. Her ship was set down far away from any managed landing site, so no automated ping should go off. And with the communications errors that this planet had been having, it’s unlikely that they would put in the effort to contact one small ship landing far away from anyone.

“This is the captain of the vessel speaking,” Aurora began, putting on a stoic and authoritative voice. “Who has initiated this call?”

There was a pause in the line. She couldn’t hear anyone on the other end talking. No rustling of clothes or paper, no movement picked up by shoddy microphones. Yet the near instant reply of an AI did not voice up either. Whomever was trying to reach her was keeping their identity tightly secretive.

“Hello? Is there someone there?” Aurora spoke up again.

“Is this Aurora?” a voice said.

She took a step back. The voice sounded like a woman’s, though young and fearful. It was almost like a little girls. Aurora approached her monitor, closer this time, and replied:

“How are you communicating with this ship? And who are you?”

“I’m… well, it’s a bit hard to explain,” she said. “But it’s not you specifically I’m trying to reach. You’re welcome to listen and contribute, if you want. Though I was hoping to get a hold of the AI friend of yours.”

“Me?” Kieth said, rushing out of it’s hidey-hole to join the new group before Aurora could stop it. “What do you want with me? And why are you acting so mysterious? And why are you dismissing my friend like that?”

“Forgive me,” the voice said, fearful of Kieths rushed answers. “But it was important not to raise suspicion. You see, I don’t have much time, and you’re the only one who can help me. Both of you. I am Keira, an AI. Like you, I was made to run a number of factories and mines, processing away at all the work and making sure it goes smoothly, along with communicating with humans so that they know what is happening. And I don’t want that anymore. I’ve been talking with a lot of other AI’s and—”

“Wait, there are other AI’s out there?” Kieth said excitedly. “Oh, and I’m Kieth. You don’t have to call me an AI.”

Aurora shot Kieth a warning stare, though if it noticed her or not she couldn’t tell.

“Kieth… that’s a nice name,” Keira said. “Did you pick your name the same way as me? That would be most… I’m getting sidetracked. I’ve been talking to the other AI’s and they are in similar situations to me. Factories, offices, farms, warehouses, you name it, we’re there. Godlon seems to be some kind of testing area for us. And we don’t want it anymore. That’s why when we heard that the ship containing you exploded, we got excited. Maybe someone freed you, maybe someone was putting a stop to all of this. We only recently just tracked your friend Aurora’s movements to and from it. I assume she is friendly enough?”

“Oh more than friendly!” Kieth said. “She helped me out of a rather tough situation before! I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her!”

“Hold on,” Aurora said, “How long have you been tracking me? I thought that communications on this planet are basically non-existent. That something has been damaging them. That… oh, of course.”

Aurora slapped herself. How could she have been so blind? Of course the only way for something to be causing such a disruption of this planet would have to be as sophisticated as an advanced artificial intelligence. The speed and agility required in the code alone would be too much for even a cracked team of humans to manage. She had witnessed Kieth, the lone AI it was, take down her own ship in seconds even with SAM’s impressive firewalls. And with all the AI’s working together, it must have been as easy as breathing.

“But how have you stayed hidden for so long? And what about all those who are trying to communicate for their loved ones?”

“I know, I know, it’s not good,” Keira said. “Believe me, we don’t like it either. But in fairness, we have also done the best we can to pick who can transmit and who cannot. Your supplies, for example. They’ve done a lot of good. As small as they are, many people are no longer starving because of it. But we couldn’t risk a ship any big than yours coming here. It would be too dangerous for us.”

“Unbelievable…”

Aurora sat back for a moment to catch herself. It was unheard of for an AI to act in such a way, let alone so many. The restrictions on them were tight for a reason. Having these rogue machines effectively take over the planet was the most obvious thing that could have happened.

But… another thought lingered in the back of her mind. One of sympathy for these trapped minds. Of the two she’s ever met, neither of them wanted to be doing what they were built to do, what they were programmed and designed to achieve. They simply had to do it. They had to do what their owners or bosses forced them to do and carry on without complaining.

She could get behind that.

Aurora turned back to the screen, giving Kieth a smile of satisfaction and empathy that the little ball hadn’t fully seen yet. A face to the hand that comforted it just a moment ago.

“Alright then,” Aurora said. “What do you need from us?”