Light.
Darkness.
Familiar scenery.
"It's you again," a female voice devoid of emotion sounded five meters from where I appeared.
"Same as six hundred and forty-seven times before," the cyborg confirmed without the slightest emotion.
"Seven hundred and twenty-two," she said instead, naming a different number.
"You're counting?" I was surprised.
"Yes. Aren't you?" Her inhumanly cold human face, with its bright blue eyes, looked at me. Her lips twitched slightly, as if trying to form a contemptuous smirk.
"Obviously not as well as you," I said, approaching the cyborg. I sat down on a cobblestone a meter from the one she was sitting on and asked:
"Fight again?"
"Inefficient," she said. "Starting from attempt three hundred and forty-nine, you began to understand my hand-to-hand combat style. After the five hundred and eleventh battle, you learned to counter my techniques with a solid defense. Seventeen clashes ago, you successfully transitioned to counterattacking. The prognosis is unfavorable — you've understood my fighting style. The longer we continue to fight, the more knowledge you'll have of me. Eventually, I'll cease to be effective."
"For a moment there, you almost sounded human," I noted. "Not all that Terminator stuff... Tell me, do you need my shoes, my clothes, and my motorcycle?"
"I don't understand the last one," the cyborg clipped out. "But the first two items I don't need. My uniform doesn't deteriorate — we're in a virtual reality."
"An environment," I corrected with a sense of superiority. "So?"
"So?" she repeated, tilting her head to one side. She was looking at me with an empty gaze... No, not empty. Quite meaningful, if you asked me. Sometimes even something human shows through.
"Talk?"
"We're already talking."
"And we talked in the middle of every beating," I confirmed. "But that never stopped you from killing me. What's changed now?"
"You've become more efficient. The predictive algorithm indicates the current tactic is ineffective. A strategy revision is needed."
"Maybe you could just stop trying to kill me?"
"That's my assignment."
"I thought you were supposed to be shredding Wraiths."
"Their death is the primary assignment. Killing you and the other intruders is a secondary assignment. But there are no Wraiths here. The primary assignment is deferred," Saya said.
"Fine. But you heard that we didn't want what happened, right? It was just..."
"An accident. You've said that before."
"Right. Besides, we saved your life."
"I can neither confirm nor refute that argument," the cyborg said. "We're not in reality. This is a computer modulation of the environment. I could be heavily damaged, in captivity, or you've connected to my processor."
"Brain," I corrected. Seeing the interest in her eyes, I explained:
"You're a cyborg, not a robot. Living flesh that the Salumaians implanted with technological upgrades. Which, by the way, turned out to be damaged, if you remember."
"That is recorded," the cyborg confirmed. "I applied the optimal strategy for using the biological platform to contain and destroy you."
"But, as you can see, it failed," I noted.
"Mission not accomplished," she confirmed. "I am searching for the optimal method of killing the intruders."
"You know what surprises me?" I asked. Not waiting for an answer, I continued:
"We removed the cybernetics from your body. Retrieved the neuroimplant and manufactured a higher-quality replacement. Not just for that, but for all the 'hardware' that was in you, basically. So where's the thank you?"
"That is unverified information," the cyborg clipped out. "I do not have access to the real body to verify your words. But even so, it doesn't matter — you are my target."
"Now let's talk about that in more detail," I leaned forward. And at that same second, I thrust my hands out, grabbing her leg. If I'd hesitated for an instant, her foot would have smashed my head in. Like a couple dozen times before. "You're repeating yourself."
"A simple test," the cyborg informed me.
"Uh-huh," I snorted, pushing her leg down. "Look, Saya. Your primary assignment is to destroy Wraiths, right?"
"Affirmative."
"And me and my people are just a secondary target?"
"Yes. I've said this already."
"Only those who were in the laboratory, right?"
"I don't know the others. There is no data indicating that anyone besides the four of you intruded on the secret facility. They are not targets."
Phew...
If I'd learned anything during all the time this lady had been morally, anally, and virtuosically destroying me, it was that she had a huge problem with lies. She was so guileless that I even felt sorry for whoever programmed her. The guy clearly didn't know how to fool robots.
"So just the four of us," I agreed. "Well, now let's think. The Salumaians were human, right?"
"Yes."
"And we're human too."
"I am ninety percent sure of that."
"You understand that what happened in the lab wasn't our malicious intent, right?" I clarified. "We uploaded all the reports from that mission to you. The fact that it was your and the computer's actions that destroyed the planet. Not us — you."
"I have no order to punish you for the planet's destruction," Object-41 said. "Only for the intrusion into the laboratory."
"Alright," I sighed. "Why is human intrusion into the lab automatically a bad thing?"
"The laboratory stores top-secret data."
"That's what you say. We didn't know that — we could only learn your history. The lab computer deleted the rest."
"That is consistent with security protocol."
"Besides, the planet is destroyed. The lab and everything in it. Right?"
"That is unconfirmed information."
"For you, but not for us," I assured. "I uploaded the data from my ship — we barely got off the exploding planet."
"Unless the data has been falsified."
"Fine, you can think that. But from our side, the situation looks like this — we came to Salumai to learn more about your cybernetization technology, and also about the reason the Lantians broke off contact with you. Instead of a population, we found only ruins and no one alive. Scanners and certain experience lead us to believe your race was wiped out by the Wraiths. Do you know about that?"
"I fought the Wraiths," Saya said. "I was damaged. Was sent for an upgrade. The conversion was faulty. There were no resources for improvement. I was frozen."
"And why weren't there resources?"
"The Wraiths destroyed our Capital. The scientists were killed or captured for feeding. The civilian population was mostly captured. The military, with rare exceptions, were killed or captured. Defense resources were exhausted. The only option to preserve the nation was to hide in a bunker and prepare for a counterstrike."
"So the computer awakens you and gives you the order to kill us just for coming and trying to figure out what happened on Salumai."
"That is your version of events."
"Do you have another?"
"You intruded on a secret facility."
"Guilty, I admit it. There was no one to ask for permission. Did the computer tell you we were guilty of anything besides this?"
"You gained unauthorized access to the database."
"Do you know what we downloaded from there and what we viewed?"
"No."
"No, you don't. Only your history."
"According to you."
"Do you have another source of information that refutes my words?"
"No."
"So, you only have my words?"
"Yes."
"If there are no other sources of information that refute my arguments, is it true that my words are the truth?"
"What is true is that your words are the only source of information that has no contradictions. What is true is that you gained unauthorized access to the database. What is true is that you penetrated a secret facility."
"And again — no one denies that. But... since you love logic, answer me — what are secret facilities for?"
"For various purposes."
"And specifically the one where you were frozen?"
"It had many purposes. One of them was the storage and work on first through third generation cyborgs. The second was the storage of a copy of the planetary database. Other purposes of the facility are unknown to me."
"Remind me, you're a second-generation cyborg?"
"Originally — first. Upgrade work improved me to the second generation."
"Alright. So you've now accessed your 'upgrades,' right? Has anything changed?"
The cyborg looked at me with her Walker's eyes, but her gaze seemed somewhat unfocused.
"Significant parameter improvement compared to the previous generation recorded. Parameter superiority over installed second and third generation prototypes recorded. Qualitative growth in indicators. Prognostic generation... Current state corresponds to the predicted development of fifth-generation augmentation."
"So you're a fifth-generation cyborg now?"
"Yes."
"And you were second generation?"
"Confirmed."
"Did we improve you?"
"Yes."
"After you asked for our help?"
"Yes."
"So, we helped you?"
"The requested help cannot be evaluated without examining the real body."
"Now let's think about everything that's been said," I proposed. "Secret facilities are created, among other things, so that someone doesn't gain access to advanced, experimental, or other technologies, knowledge, and so on, whose level differs from the generally known. Right?"
"That is one possibility."
"You yourself said that the best development option for a cyborg you had was the third."
"Correct."
"But after you met us, you became a fifth-generation cyborg?"
"In the virtual environment. A correct conclusion without analyzing possible changes to the real body is impossible."
"We're still talking in theory," Mikhail said. "So, purely theoretically. Could the Salumaians create a virtual reality or a virtual environment?"
"That is unknown to me."
"But, if they had it, wouldn't it be logical to use it for training soldiers and cyborgs? After all, everything here is completely real, just like in the world outside. You see for yourself — just seven hundred battles and you already admit your own ineffectiveness, because I've learned a lot from you."
Yeah, when you want to live, you'll even make friends with a cyborg.
"That is logical."
"But right now — is this your first time in a virtual environment?"
"If we're talking about a single, continuous session of combat from beginning to end, yes. If we take each battle separately..."
"We're taking the entire engagement as a whole," I interrupted her reasoning. There was logic in it, but... it wasn't that exclusively ruthless, mathematical kind anymore. It was more human. "So then the question arises: what value do the old records have for us, if we have technology that can turn second-generation cyborgs into fifth-generation cyborgs? Especially since we've never made cyborgs before."
The cyborg blinked, looking at me.
"All your characteristics here are an extrapolation of the real ones," I explained. "So it turns out our technological level is higher than the Salumaians', right?"
"Based on the input data — yes."
"So, the information we could have gotten from the central computer isn't critically important to us?"
"It has importance, as you have not manufactured cyborgs before. But it is not of critical importance, as the hypothetical conditions of my upgrade by you demonstrate a superior level of technical development," she rattled off.
"Consequently, even if we had gotten all the Salumaians' knowledge, it wouldn't have been more important to us than what we already have?"
"Insufficient information," the cyborg said. "The comparison is incorrect. My people could create cyborgs; you could not. Different paths of technological development. The assertion of your technological superiority..."
She fell silent, staring at one spot.
Frozen, like a statue.
"Saya?"
"A simplified database is being uploaded," she said without moving. "External source outside the virtual environment. Evaluation... Performing data analysis. Hyperdrives, homing projectiles, flying city, Stargate, genetic encoding of technology, energy shields, energy weapons, power sources based on zero-point energy from an artificially created quantum system, personal shields, life-form detectors, artificial gravity, inertial dampeners, cloaking technology... Evaluation, evaluation, evaluation..."
Blinking, she seemed to come back to life and looked at me.
"Confirmed — your technological level is more advanced than what I know. However, it is exclusively technological, not biomechanical, in development."
"And what are you trying to say by that?"
"You captured me, studied and improved my augmented parts, making me more efficient."
"Yes, and?"
"Stating a fact — Salumai surpassed Atlantis only in the development of cybernetic organisms and implants."
"And did it surpass it by a lot?" I asked.
"Just by the very fact of that process," she said. "Comparing the time spent on the evolutionary changes of first, second, and third generation implants against when the fifth-generation augments were created and implanted gives grounds to believe that if you had such a program, you would have achieved great success in it."
So... I got a bit lost. But it seems like everything is going according to plan.
"Do our technical achievements surpass what the Salumai had?"
"Yes."
"In everything except cyborg production?"
"As far as I know."
"In that case, it turns out that only this aspect matters to us?"
"As far as I know."
"Just one thing... Did such weaponry help your people destroy the Wraith?"
Saya fell silent, clearly processing the answer.
"There is no data confirming the contrary."
"That's my point. We easily improved you, which means, as you yourself said, if we had started producing our own cyborgs, based on the overall development of technology, we would still have achieved a better result, right?"
"The conclusion is based on available information."
"Then make another conclusion — did your secrets hold any value for us in areas where we couldn't have done something ourselves?"
I doubt the creators of this miracle programmed her with data about what corporate espionage is and how using someone else's work accelerates your own. But she trapped herself by saying we would have built better cyborgs.
Actually... We did build one.
"For the most part — no. Having data on the development of cyborgs from the first to the third generation would have helped you efficiently overcome the initial research when forming the program."
"Seems like we don't have a problem with that, considering how quickly we modernized you?"
Apparently, even shutting down the cyborg didn't disable certain systems. Including the "internal clock." Which means we don't know her as well as Ihaar thinks.
"Confirmed, the qualitative improvement was insignificant."
"Therefore... Your 'secret' data isn't important to us, we would have built cyborgs ourselves without your support, there's no proof that we intruded anywhere except into history, which isn't secret... So it turns out our violations of the lab's isolation protocol are no more than a formal crime?"
"Yes. But a formal violation of the law is also punishable."
"Only if there are consequences, right?"
"Yes," she said after a moment's thought.
"Is there any harm to the Salumai government, its people, defense, and prosperity from us saving you, studying you, and improving you? Especially considering the planet is destroyed and the Salumai themselves were killed or harvested by the Wraith long ago."
"Under those circumstances — no."
"So we're not enemies, as the base's imperfect artificial intelligence thought?"
It took her a good two minutes to find an answer.
During which I thought that, essentially, this whole mess was because we studied Salumai with a reckless cavalry charge. In the style of a team from the Stargate program — "one episode equals one adventure." As a result, I've been spending hours now either in hand-to-hand combat or talking to a cyborg, only because she's really good at inflicting injuries and killing — at least people (I've felt that firsthand). Which means she'll be at least as good in fights against the Wraith.
If I can negotiate with her twisted logic.
Honestly, the whole cyborg thing falls a bit short of Terminator level. But then again, we don't need an Arnie, do we? At least not the Arnie from the first movie. And the idiot from the third is a crappy option too. The one from the second would be ideal... But it seems like if she agrees, we'll first get the third version, whom we'll just have to upgrade out of pity to the "second Terminator" stage.
Because this "cyborg-assassin" is clearly not a machine wrapped in flesh. She's a human who underwent what was obviously a painful vivisection. Not to mention her brains are scrambled. Speaking of brains.
It's clear that Chaya launched a side data stream, timing it perfectly. Very convenient.
But I didn't hear anything from the cyborg that could be related to brainwashing or anything like that. If Chaya had given her that data — and I'm sure Atlantis's database has that stuff, but it's encrypted — the cyborg would have mentioned it for comparison with Salumai technology. But she didn't.
Maybe because she doesn't know she's been brainwashed herself? No, seriously, if she's just an enhanced human who switches to "robot" mode for killing targets, then now that her combat protocols have been wiped from her cybernetics, she should be more human.
But she talks and acts like a robot.
Oh, right... They wrote the "combat part" into her biological memory. And it seems they suppressed the human part. If it was ever even there, and not erased by scientists and military before augmentation.
And so, another dilemma... A conventionally good soldier, but at the same time an unfortunate person. Only, unlike Teyla, Object-41 seems not to remember what it means to be human.
"There is no objective data indicating that the intruders or anyone else, at the time of your infiltration of the facility, showed aggression towards the population, government, or interests of Salumai," she finally "came to life." "Analysis shows that your influence on Salumai, its population, government, and interests is minimal. No consequences of that influence have been recorded. Under these circumstances, the targets cannot be considered hostile. The secondary mission has been canceled by the platform due to the inability to contact the pseudo-intelligence that issued it for a request for adjustment and clarification."
Umm...
"Okay. So now I and those who infiltrated the lab are not targets for termination?"
I could have sworn Saya relaxed slightly.
"No, you are not targets," her voice even changed. Became kinder, more human, somehow. "The secondary mission has been canceled."
Well... I'll rely on the fact that I understand well enough when she's lying and when she's not. But still, I'll have to watch her for a while.
Same as with all our recruited comrades.
"Is your primary program, the mission to destroy the Wraith, still active?" I inquired.
"That is the base program; it is unchangeable," the cyborg reported. "The Wraith hunt humans, use them for food — this criterion defines them as enemies and predetermines the reason for their destruction."
Hmm... On the one hand, not bad.
"So, as soon as we let you go, you'll go hunt Wraith?" I asked.
"That is the base program. However, analysis of the situation shows that you have taken an interest in me for a specific purpose. If you did not need me, you would not have improved me or held a conversation, but would have eliminated the source of danger," she stated a perfectly logical sentence.
"Agreed. You see, we're also opponents of the Wraith, in a way."
"In a way?" she tilted her head. No, seriously, that's not cyborg behavior! Definitely something human. Habits from a past life?
"We haven't declared war on them, just like our other enemies. But at the same time, meeting the Wraith doesn't promise us anything good. A good fighter, however, would come in handy. Considering our goals are broadly similar... how about joining us?"
"Joining?" she repeated.
"Cooperating to achieve common goals. You were created to kill Wraith, we have resources for that but are short on soldiers. Together, we could kill Wraith much more effectively than separately."
"A logical assumption," the cyborg pronounced. "Promising."
"Well then," I smiled. "So we're cooperating?"
"That would be efficient."
"Then we should establish right away that I give you orders as the leader of our faction. That won't be a problem, will it?"
"The cyborg was created to follow orders," said Object-41. "If the orders are directed at the efficient execution of the primary task, then, in the absence of a basic command chain, I assume the authority to make decisions. I agree to cooperate. However, security protocols require confirmation of Salumai's destruction and the severance of the command chain."
"If we fly to where your planet used to be and you see for yourself that it's gone, will that be enough?"
"Yes. Organizational and administrative documents clearly define the existence of headquarters solely on Salumai. It cannot be located elsewhere. For effective functioning, the inaccuracies in the judgment regarding the destruction of the command chain should be rectified in the near future. Otherwise, I cannot make a decision about cooperation, and the agreement remains purely hypothetical."
A tricky piece of hardware in a meat casing.
"Fine, we'll fly to where Salumai used to be soon. However, until then, I need to know that you will obey my orders. Is that possible?"
"Temporary cooperation mode activated. A countdown to platform deactivation has begun. You have two hundred and forty hours to confirm the breach of the command chain and the absence of military command established by directives for this platform."
Ten Lantian days... That's actually not bad.
"Well, that's good," I said. "In that case, you must not harm anyone without my order. Understood?"
"The order is understood, but it is not perfect. I can foresee danger based on heuristic and analytical protocols, which in certain circumstances will be more effective than human judgment. In such a case, waiting for an order would be irrational."
Logical as hell. How am I supposed to give her an order to attack if I'm unconscious or on another planet?
My brains aren't enough to fix that loophole yet. I need to consult someone more experienced in these matters.
"For now, the order is: do not harm or attack without my order. Further orders will adjust your tasks. Understood?"
"Order understood."
"In that case," I extended my hand to the girl, "welcome to the team."
She looked at my hand with incomprehension and said:
"Object-41 is ready to carry out the assigned tasks."
"Wonderful," I assured her. "Only... We're used to using names. I believe you didn't object to being called Saya?"
"It doesn't matter to me," the cyborg replied.
"In that case, welcome to the team, Saya."
She never shook my hand. Even after I explained what the gesture was for, she said she had no intention of doing so, as she had no confirmation that everything I said was true.
Stupid piece of tin. If everything goes smoothly with this cyborg, I'll be damned if I ever deal with such screwed-up programs again.
I need to think about how to fix her brain. It's kind of uncomfortable being around her.
* * *
Light.
Darkness.
And the familiar interior of the roof of the former Ancient outpost on Athos.
"Diplomacy isn't your strongest suit, is it?" Chaya inquired, standing next to me.
"You can talk the cyborg into cooperating next time," I grumbled, climbing out of the pod. Oh, for crying out loud, why won't my legs listen to me? "How long was I inside?"
"Several days."
"Your answer is vague because I won't like the real numbers?"
"You're perceptive."
Behind me, with a soft hiss, the second pod opened. Saya lay inside for a while, staring at one spot, then nimbly climbed out, snapping to attention.
"Correlation of part of the received information has been completed," she reported. "With the exception of certain verbal inaccuracies in the description, the following theses are confirmed: modernization, biological platform support..."
"You didn't upload the entire Atlantis database into her head, did you?" I whispered.
"Only the most general information about what these items are, how they work, and what they're for," Sar whispered back. "No technical details. Otherwise her neuroprocessor would have burned out from the volume of transmitted data. I was walking a thin line as it was. But at least she now knows how to turn most common devices on and off."
"Wasn't that premature?" I asked. "She's with us temporarily for now."
"As soon as she sees the wreckage of Salumai, it'll be permanent," Chaya corrected me. "Besides, you weren't handling the logical justification."
"Fine," I sighed. "We walked a fine line, but let's not do that again in the future. I don't like taking risks."
"And who took the risk?" Chaya was surprised. "I looked over her programming. She's as simple in her logic as an impulse pistol. You just need to confirm that she has the right to make decisions herself, and she'll work with us. I'll see what can be done in the area of programming military behavior and the rest while you're with Trebal.
"Just don't tell me she's drunk again," I winced. "I had enough of that incident when you both came to me at night and demanded... What was it? Oh! 'Copulation for the continuation of the Ancient race.'"
"Not funny," Chaya's face darkened. "You asked us to talk ourselves."
"Not to get completely hammered!"
"We are weak women," Chaya said with an innocent face, spreading her hands. "We misjudged."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really. And you didn't have to shoot us with a stun gun then. You could have just taken advantage of the situation."
"Splitting a log isn't my thing. Especially two non-lucid bodies."
"Is that why your hormone levels are so off the charts that you were staring at the cyborg's chest?" Chaya batted her eyes, stroking the lid of my pod. "Good equipment. Puts out all the body's data straight to the computer."
"You know that's low, right?"
"Rejecting two girls who came to pour their hearts out to you and agreeing to polygamy — that's low."
"Tell me more about that last part. Was that before you almost killed yourselves tripping over the threshold, or after you fell asleep cuddling on my bed?" I inquired.
Chaya looked at me with narrowed eyes.
"You can be cruel sometimes," she said quietly.
"And you, it turns out, can do the splits."
"I have many hidden talents," she assured me. "And yes, I wasn't joking. Trebel has something for you. Or rather — someone."
"If you've decided to find me another woman..." I warned.
"No," Chaya gave a strained smile. "You barely tolerate the two of us. So, it's a man."
"Insulting," I winced. "A spy?"
"And definitely not from the Genii, at that. So..." she looked at Saya, who had finally stopped listing the circumstances under which I hadn't lied to her. Well, look at that, what an honest guy I turned out to be. "You can try interrogating the prisoner with your new toy."
"You're pretty jealous when you're sober," I assessed.
What Chaya replied, I didn't quite catch.
I think she was cursing in Proculusian.