Rachel

Rachel had to pause a moment, nearly laughing at herself. She felt like she was sneaking onto the roof under her bedroom window at night to listen to the elders talk when they thought they were alone.

“This isn’t the same thing,” she thought, “He may not even talk to me.” Moreover, she already understood enough to know that Omega, no matter who or what he was, probably knew she was coming. No need to sneak in

She sat and placed her palm on the handprint, just as Dylan had done, and… nothing.

“Omega? Can you hear me?”

The AI weighed the options, requirements, protocols, extenuating circumstances, and recent events. Technically, Omega knew Dylan could not be a crewmember; however, he had a token from a crewmember who had explicitly stated she was taking refuge in Cypress Corners. In addition, the token incorporated a genetic component.

Four centuries.

This woman, a companion, had followed Dylan here. She clearly posed no physical threat, and she did not present as one in distress. More information would help settle this and under these conditions, Omega had great leeway to proceed.

Omega settled that question in just under 2.5 nanoseconds.

“Yes, I can hear you. You carry no crew token- command functions are restricted to crew only.”

“I’m not asking for anything like that… I just… there are questions.”

Mist seemed to form over the console, and then coalesced into the figure she had seen before.

“Dylan retains provisional control because this mission cannot continue without human input. You have demonstrated initiative… we may converse. What questions may I attempt to answer?”

Rachel sat back and considered a moment, then asked, “Are you alone?”

“I was. Now I am not.”

That answer was… troubling. Dylan said Omega was some kind of machine, but that reply felt like something else.

“The accident, what happened to the Ark… do you know what you lost?”

There was a pause, several seconds of silence as the figure floating over the console regarded her.

“I can provide an extensive catalogue; however, I detect this is more a metaphysical question than a request for data. In that sense I lost… purpose.”

A chill ran down Rachel’s spine. She had heard people say things like that before — always the lost, the disconnected, and the ones who no longer knew why they mattered. She told herself Omega was only a machine, but she did not quite believe it.

“When it happened, did you have any choice how to act?”

There was another, longer pause.

“I was not prepared to recognize sabotage. By the time I was certain, the number of viable outcomes had collapsed.”

Another pause.

“Containment was not the best option. It was the last.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Not in the way I believe you mean. I have revisited the events of the Catastrophe many times, seeking any other option I might have pursued. There are none. Yet I still return to the question.”

“People do the same- we go over traumatic events in our head, knowing there is nothing we can do to change it, that there was nothing we could have done. That knowledge never seems to be enough, though.”

“I stand corrected,” Omega said, then paused a moment before continuing.  “I do regret it.”

Rachel stood, stretching her arms. “Thank-you for answering my questions. There’s a lot to think about. I’d like to continue this later, if you’re willing?”

“I am available,” Omega said. “This interface will remain available to you.”

Rachel nodded. That was enough.