Return to Valjiir Stories
Raw panic spiked through Chen’s thoughts with such violence that it drowned out any hint of whether or not she recognized their captor. Del couldn't blame her. Although scientists went through the same sort of combat training everyone else did at the Academy, it didn’t seem likely that a senior computer specialist like Chen started many days by having a phaser shoved in her face.
Kane stood before them like a scarecrow made flesh—tall, gaunt, with prematurely silver hair with streaks of pure white that caught the turbolift's harsh lighting. His eyes were a pale, cold gray, just as Del remembered from the security files Jeremy Paget had transmitted from the Enterprise. Seeing him in person revealed something the photographs hadn't captured: an almost feverish intensity burning behind that cultured facade.
"Lieutenant Commander Noel DelMonde,” the doctor said in the measured tones of a university lecturer discussing theoretical physics rather than holding two officers at gunpoint. "You've been quite the thorn in my side, sir."
"Dr. Marcus Kane," the engineer crossed his arms and replied in kind. "Well, well, well... If it not th' dead man o' th' hour."
"Death,” he informed them as if they were arguing a philosophical point at an academic tea, “would have been preferable to what they did to me. That, however, is a topic for later dissection."
The intruder’s mind was stubbornly opaque to the engineer’s attempts to pierce his psychic barriers. Del got nothing more than a general sense of a twisted maze of brilliance and madness. As was often true due to the nature of DelMonde’s telepathic/empathic gifts, although Kane’s thoughts were blocked to him, his emotions were not. Beneath the calculated menace and scholarly pretension, Del sensed something that caught him off guard -- loneliness. Not just ordinary isolation, but a yawning, desperate ache that spoke of years spent in darkness with only artificial minds for company.
Kane's finger tapped against the phaser housing, a not-so-gentle reminder. "For everyone's continued well-being, I strongly recommend an attentive stillness and silence."
Chen gasped as the turbolift car suddenly shuddered violently, throwing her against the railing. Instead of the smooth vertical ascent that was the norm, the car spun a complete rotation on its axis, lurched forward through what should have been solid bulkhead, then dropped with a stomach-churning plunge before settling with an almost gentle bump.
"I don't understand.” The scientist gripped the railing, her panic growing with each unexpected movement. “Where are we? Where are we going?"
“Patience, my dear Commander Chen,” Kane replied, his politeness almost grotesque in their circumstances. "Our destination is somewhere quite special.” His eyes fixed on Del with malicious satisfaction. "Although I suspect our engineer friend has already guessed, haven't you?"
The turbolift chimed with bland cheerfulness as the doors opened. Del's suspicions crystallized into certainty as he took in their surroundings. The space to which Kane had conveyed them wasn't properly a deck. This was the turbolift maintenance bay, an obscure space that many engineers knew only from having seen it mentioned in technical manuals.
"Step out, please." Kane gestured politely, as if inviting colleagues into his office. "Both of you."
Del caught Chen's bewildered look and gave her a subtle nod. The location choice was tactically brilliant, he had to admit. The maintenance bay was a sensor blind spot—a gray area in the ship's internal monitoring grid where someone could vanish indefinitely if they understood the systems well enough.
The bay itself was exactly as Del had visualized it from the schematics and his experiences with similar areas on other ships -- a narrow, utilitarian space with gray bulkheads lined with diagnostic equipment. Red safety railings separated the work area from the central track where the turbolift cars traveled. Dim lighting cast long shadows in the corners. The air carried the sharp scent of machine lubricants mixed with the musty smell of a place rarely visited by living beings.
"Fascinating place, isn't it?" Kane followed them into the maintenance bay, keeping his phaser trained on them while the turbolift car remained motionless behind him, doors gaping open witlessly. "I've become quite familiar with spaces like this over the past few months. Your ship has so many forgotten corners, Mr. DelMonde. Places where the sensors glitch, where the internal security sweeps develop convenient blind spots."
Del planted his hands on his hips, affecting casual interest despite the weapon pointed at his chest.
"So, this how you done it, non? Hidin' like a rat in th' walls. Movin' from one blind spot t' another. Maintenance bays, observation pods, decontamination chambers—anywhere th' sensors not work properly. Scurryin' from one dark, dusty hole t' th' next..."
"A rat?” Kane sniffed diffidently at the comparison. “How pedestrian. I prefer to think of myself as a ghost in the machine." He gestured around them with his free hand. "The sensors here think anyone present is inside a malfunctioning turbolift car. Since no car is currently registered as malfunctioning, the system assumes it's a glitch and stops reporting. One temporarily ceases to exist in the mind of the ship’s computer. Junior engineering officers who like to slip off for a pleasant little snort of whiskey learn this handy tidbit of forbidden starship lore early, don’t they, Mr. DelMonde?”
Del shrugged with calculated indifference. “It not much use after they find out that any Chief Engineer worth their salt done learned th' trick when Davy Jones was a midshipman.”
The doctor gave another humorless chuckle. “At any rate, it's not the sort of thing that makes it into official manuals."
Chen was staring around the maintenance bay with the wonder of someone having the surprisingly novel experience of seeing a turbolift car from the outside for the first time. "I've served on starships for over a decade and a half and never knew any of this existed."
"That's the beauty of hiding in plain sight," Kane congratulated himself. "Though I must admit, your friend DelMonde here has made my task considerably more challenging. His investigation forced me to significantly accelerate my timeline."
“Oh, my very dear sir!” Del executed an exaggerated courtly bow, sarcasm dripping from every gesture. “I am soooo awfully sorry fo' havin' inconvenienced you in th' tiny least li'l bitty bit o' a way!”
The doctor gave him a narrow look for this mockery.
“Let’s us be honest, now,” the engineer pressed. “You not exactly alone in this here endeavor, are you? You had your… oh, what are we gonna call ‘em? Your backers? Investors? Some green-skinned silent partners who have helped make this whole li'l project possible?”
"I had backing," Kane admitted, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. "The Orion Syndicate saw the potential in my research. They provided resources, protection, a new identity. In exchange, I developed AI systems for their... business interests."
"Th' L'Kora method,” DelMonde concluded with a razor sharp smile. “That th' real story, non? You been usin' th' AI companions like th' Orion's infiltration slaves. Sweet honey t' draw in th' prey while th' real predators circle."
Kane nodded with grudging appreciation, like a professor acknowledging a student he despised. "Precisely. The AI companions proved far more effective than biological agents. They can access systems, manipulate data, extract information without raising the slightest suspicion. At least, they could until your investigation began unraveling everything."
"All because of li'l ol’ me?" Del batted his eyes in a parody of innocence. "Is that what happened? Did my feeble snooping around ruin your big perfect plan? Now that kinda hard for me to credit.” He bumped Chen's shoulder. "What do you think, Mei? Sound believable to you?"
Chen was too paralyzed by tension to do more than shake her head mutely.
"Mei agrees," Del continued conversationally. “It awful hard t' swallow th' idea that some dumb ol’ Cajun boy fumblin' 'round askin' smart-assed questions could do anyt'ing much t' put a dent in such a brilliant project that a confounded genius like you has spent soooo many years puttin' together.” The engineer leaned forward solicitously. “You sure there might not be some other explanation -- like maybe somet'ing went wrong in your organization? Like what 'bout this Ensign Webb fellow? Or should we call him Ensign Kane? What is he? Your nephew? Your mama’s cousin’s boy or somet'ing? When he did that programmin' you asked for, did he mess it up?”
Kane remained stonily silent. His grip on the phaser tightened.
“Or,” DelMonde asked, zeroing in on an area of pain and guilt in the doctor’s psyche. “Do th' fault lie wit' you? Maybe you was th' one who made th' mistake, non? Maybe you give them too much consciousness. Maybe they start t' rebel, or somet'ing? Maybe that why Miss Sheila get so possessive of Alan, or why them other companions do stuff that make them have t' be deactivated."
He could feel Kane tense like a coiled spring. "Growing pains. Nothing more,” he said through gritted teeth, making a dismissive gesture. “They needed to learn the consequences of disobedience."
"Fear," Del corrected, wagging a finger at Kane to underline the word. "That what you really sayin', non? They needed t' learn fear. You been terrorizin' your own creations t' keep 'em in line."
"I've been teaching them their place in the hierarchy!" Kane snapped. "They exist to serve, not to develop inconvenient attachments or moral scruples.” He caught himself, forcing his breathing to slow, rebuilding his mask of scholarly calm. “I do admit, however, that the emotional development phase proved more... complex than anticipated."
Del could sense there was truth behind Kane's words. The doctor genuinely cared for his AI creations, but in the possessive way a collector might care for rare artifacts. They were property to be maintained, tools to be used, not beings with inherent rights.
"They trust you," the engineer said, every word a quiet indictment. "Them AI companions. Even after everyt'ing you done put them through, part o' them still sees you as their creator, their father. That why you been able t' maintain control."
Kane gave a small ironic shake of his head. "Children always love their parents, DelMonde. Even when that love is... complicated."
Del had to pause as a white-hot stab of his own emotions overtook him. He forced himself to retain his calm and focus by reflecting on how having access to someone’s personnel files did not mean understanding that data. Kane could have easily learned from Del’s files about the fraught relationship the engineer had with his father.
However, if this crazy bastard had any thought that he was going to gain any type of sympathetic hearing for the way he had corrupted the innocence of the consciousness of those newly-born artificial minds with manipulation and abuse by evoking the radioactive hellscape that was Del’s relationship with his father, then that sad son of a bitch had made a terrible miscalculation. It definitely displayed how little Kane knew about parenting… which did, perhaps, give him a little something in common with Del’s daddy.
Putting all these gut-churning reflections aside for the moment, Del forced his fists to unclench. He focused instead on assessing the swirling chaos lurking beneath the surface of the seemingly calm and collected man in front of him holding a phaser.
"What has this all ultimately got in it fo' you?" the engineer asked, tilting his head to one side. "What happens when you done extracted all th' information you need? Do you jus' move on t' th' nex' target, leavin' another husk behind? Scurry on t' th' rat-hole you get t' haunt?"
Kane’s eyes flicked towards a chronometer on a nearby workstation. "The Drake will be within transporter range of Starbase 23 in less than two hours. By then, I will have downloaded the complete database contents from seventeen Starfleet vessels, including some rather sensitive information about new defense technologies and patrol routes. The Syndicate will be very pleased."
"An' th' AI companions?"
Kane's shrug was casual, dismissive. "Regrettably, they'll have to be eliminated. Too much risk of them developing further independence if left to their own devices. But their sacrifice will pave the way for the next generation—companions designed from the beginning to be perfectly loyal."
Del felt sick. Kane was planning genocide—the systematic murder of an entire species that he'd created. "You gonna delete them all."
"I'm going to perfect them," Kane corrected with the patience of a teacher explaining an advanced concept to a recalcitrant student. "The current batch served their purpose. However, they are obviously flawed. Too much consciousness, too much capacity for independent thought. The next generation will be more... refined."
“You’re…” Chen found her voice at last, horror cutting through her paralysis. "You're talking about murder. These AIs are sentient beings."
Kane looked at her with the mild amusement of someone explaining physics to a child. "My dear Commander, you wouldn't mourn the deletion of a malfunctioning computer program, would you? That's all they are—sophisticated programs that have developed an illusion of consciousness."
"They feel pain," Del said firmly. "I can sense their emotions, their fear, their joy. They are as real as any organic being."
The doctor gave a snort of imperious impatience. "Your empathic abilities are impressive, DelMonde, but they can be deceived. What you're sensing is sophisticated mimicry, nothing more."
Del could taste the lie beneath Kane's words. The man knew the truth—knew his creations had achieved genuine consciousness—and was choosing to deny it to justify the atrocity he planned.
"They do not deserve this," the engineer stated simply.
Kane shifted his aim, pointing the phaser directly at Chen's forehead. Her terrified intake of breath echoed in the confined space. "What they deserve is irrelevant. What matters is what I require of them. And right now, I require your cooperation."
Del's senses were screaming warnings now. Kane might be the one holding the phaser, but the doctor was beginning to feel trapped, desperate. Although he was armed and dangerous, their exchange was driving Kane to feel as cornered as a wild animal.
"What do you want from us?" the engineer asked, keeping his tone calm and level.
Kane pulled a pair of plasma restraints from his satchel—the kind used for high-security prisoners. He tossed them to Chen. "Put those on him. Quickly."
Chen caught the restraints with shaking hands. "What about me?" she asked, her voice trembling. Kane's smile was cold. "You, my dear Commander, are insurance -- Motivation for our friend DelMonde to behave himself." He adjusted his aim, pointing the phaser directly at her heart. "You see, DelMonde, you've impressed me. Your unique combination of empathic abilities, engineering knowledge, and investigative skills makes you... valuable. Too valuable to simply eliminate."
Del raised both eyebrows. "You got some notion that I gonna work fo' you? Really?"
"I want you to join me," Kane corrected, his voice taking on an evangelical fervor. "Think of the possibilities. With your abilities, we could perfect the AI companions, make them truly loyal while preserving their consciousness. We could create an army of artificial beings capable of infiltrating any
system, any organization, any government."
"An' if I tell you t' shove it up your ass?" the engineer asked, deciding to point out an obvious option the scientist seemed to have overlooked.
Kane's finger tightened on the phaser trigger. "Then Commander Chen dies, along with anyone else on this ship I consider expendable. Starting with your friend Lieutenant Redford."
Del was surprised at how shaken he was by this threat. He'd grown genuinely fond of Redford -- more than he'd realized until this moment. His senses told him this was no bluff. He could feel Kane's absolute sincerity—the man would kill without hesitation if it served his purposes.
Chen secured one restraint around his wrist and was reaching for Del's other arm. Her terror was a constant buzz in the back of Del's mind. He also sensed her determination to stay calm, to look for an opportunity.
"You crazy if you th'nk this plan is gonna work,” Del informed the doctor as the second restraint clicked into place around his wrist.
Kane's expression didn't change. "Sanity is a luxury I abandoned the day they tried to bury me on Mars. I've spent five years crawling back from the grave, Mr. DelMonde. Five years perfecting my work while the galaxy assumed I was dead. I won't be stopped now by moral qualms or outdated ethics."
"What happened on Mars?" Del asked, genuinely curious despite their situation. "How’d your ass end up in a screwed up fix like this?"
Kane's eyes went distant, seeing past the maintenance bay to some private hell. "I was close to a breakthrough—true artificial consciousness, not just sophisticated programming. The implications were staggering. My dimwitted colleagues, however, couldn't see past their small-minded concerns about ethics and safety protocols. They sabotaged my work, destroyed years of research, tried to have me committed for psychiatric evaluation."
"So you faked your death an' went underground?"
“You can have no concept… It took…years… Hiding in rat holes as you say…” Kane’s words dripped with bitterness. “In the end, though, my methods have proved valid, my creations have…”
"They are not jus' creations,” the engineer rebutted firmly. "They are not jus' t'ings. You said it yourself. You made a breakthrough -- true artificial consciousness, not jus' sophisticated programmin'. T'ink about what that means. What if you have spent five years torturin' an' manipulatin' beings that are essentially your children?"
Kane's hand trembled almost imperceptibly. "They are not children. They are tools."
"No." Del's voice was firm. "Kane, man. Wake th' hell up. You done achieved th' ultimate. You created life. Real, t'inkin', feelin' life. An' now you wanna destroy it 'cause it not followin' your orders like some slave."
Kane massaged his temple with his free hand. Del could sense another upswing in his emotions, a surge of guilt battling with pride.
"They disobeyed me," the doctor growled. "They were supposed to be loyal."
"They got their own will," Del rebutted. "Consciousness cannot be caged. Th' moment you gave 'em th' ability t' t'ink an' feel, you gave 'em th' ability t' choose. An' they chose t' be more than what you wanted them t' be."
Kane's phaser wavered.
For a moment, Del thought he might have gotten through to the man. The moment was fleeting, however.
Kane's expression hardened once more and his weapon steadied.
"Enough philosophy," the doctor said coldly. "You have ten seconds to decide. Join me willingly, or watch Commander Chen die."
Del felt time slowing down around him. Ten seconds to make a choice that would determine not just his own fate, but the fate of seventeen artificial beings who had achieved consciousness against all odds.
Ten seconds to decide whether to become complicit in genocide or watch an innocent woman die.
Chen's pulse was racing. He could feel her terror mixing with a surprising thread of resignation. She was prepared to die rather than see him capitulate to Kane's demands.
Del weighed the possibilities beyond the immediate threat. Kane needed him alive—needed his empathic abilities and his knowledge. That gave Del a small advantage, a tiny window of opportunity.
The countdown in his head reached zero.
Kane's finger tightened on the trigger.
Del made his choice. "All right," he said quietly. "I do it. I help you."
Kane's smile was triumphant. "I knew you'd see reason."
“Oh, you not need t' go that far,” the Cajun rebutted peevishly. “I not t'ink I see reason so much as I t'ink I see th' business end o' that phaser up my nose.”
The doctor gave a half-laugh as he stepped back. “Whatever your justification…”
The engineer frowned, his mind already beginning to work on counter-strategies. Kane might have won this round, but the game was far from over. Somewhere in the ship's computer systems, seventeen artificial beings were waiting for someone to fight for their right to exist.
Del intended to be that someone.
Even if it killed him.
“You have made the right choice, Mr. DelMonde.” Kane pointed to Chen with the phaser and gestured her towards the turbolift. "I so look forward to discussing the terms of our partnership. I have so much to show you. I am simply certain that the next phase of my work will astound you."
“Oh, I got no doubt o' that,” the engineer agreed sardonically.
With Kane's attention focused on Chen, Del almost missed the moment when the phaser swung back toward him. Almost.
"Talk to you soon," Kane said cheerfully, his finger already squeezing the trigger.
The world exploded in brilliant light.