Watanabe
They should have known something was off when crewman Watanabe spaced himself. The young engineer had gone to do minor repair work on one of the Dermont’s numerous airlocks. Standard procedure to avoid accidents is to lock down the outside facing hatch manually. That way even if there was some sort of malfunction, it would remain closed. According to the ship’s internal logs, he failed to do this. The door opened shortly after he had pulled the faceplate off the keypad and begun repair work. According to the ensuing investigation, an inadvertent energy surge had triggered the hatch. Without the manually controlled locks in place, the hatch opened, ejecting him into space. Bissett had overseen the investigation personally. She had read the final report over and over again, each time intellectually knowing it was correct. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Finding nothing to verify her intuition, she reluctantly filed the final report then proceeded with the mournful task of contacting Watanabe’s parents.
A week later, she had walked in on a meeting between Emerson and their head of security, Lieutenant Nora Fischer. From what she could summarize they were discussing security measures for an upcoming exploration mission on Nelvon 7. Pandora’s holographic avatar had been there as well, the three of them were standing in a loose circle at the far end of the ops room. Emerson and Fischer seemed to be engaged in a deep discussion, their eyes locked and intent. Bissett glanced at Pandora, whose gaze drifted to Fischer.
Wait! What was that look? The thought took a mere fraction of a second, during which time Pandora’s expression was replaced by something more neutral. What had she just seen? A foreboding sense of danger welled up deep within her mind. Bissett pushed it aside, the notion was preposterous! A jealous AI?
Mon Dieu, c’est impossible! She had thought, inwardly laughing at herself. Probably just a glitch in her ocular algorithm.
Analysis
Bissett had loaded the intel data for Pandora’s analysis into the system the “old fashioned” way, by inserting a datchip into a slot on the panel. How quaint, and necessary, given le pute’s wiley nature. Wireless transfer of anything was out of the question whenever dealing with her.
Pandora had turned her attention back to Emerson as he began to speak.
“The Commander is downloading some intel the IC has obtained regarding the Khelean presence in the borderlands…”
“I see.” Her eyes gazed into the distance, nose krinkling before breaking into a mischievous grin. “The IC has been very, very, bad.”
“That is a matter of opinion.”
“Or ethics.”
“Can you give us your analysis, Pandora? Displayed visually only, please.” His voice carried a restrained exasperation.
“I do love when you use my name, Michael.” She beamed, then continued in a tone drenched with faux hurt. “After all we’ve been through though, is this all I am to you? Software that analyzes intel? Are you bored with me? Perhaps you’d like me to spice things up a bit?” Her uniform melted off to reveal the enticing body underneath. She flirtatiously spun, giving an unabashed view of her nude form.
“Or would you prefer something different?” she slyly said. Her curvy figure straightened out slightly, becoming leaner while her hair morphed into a shoulder length mane of fiery red curls. The eyes had changed to a deep blue and her face…
“Suffisant!” Bissett’s heavily accented voice shot out, controlled but loud.
Ensign Ambie’s mouth was agape. Floating before them was a fully nude, 4 meter tall, Commander Bissett. The ensign’s face went flush, he quickly turned away. He didn’t know what the commander looked like naked (obviously), but he was sure this was exactly it. Even though this was just a hologram, looking felt voyeuristic. Emerson opened his mouth to speak. Before he could utter a word Pandora/Bissett broke out in a giggle and, with a flurry of sparkling gold, changed back to her original, uniformed, appearance.
“I thought since you and dear Danielle spend so much time working together you may have preferred that. My mistake.” She turned to Bissett. “Pardonnez-moi.” She said, in a most un-apologetic way. Bissett shook her head, muttering under her breath.
“There’s no need for that.” Emerson’s words rang like struck iron.
“I know…” she slyly replied.
Fischer
The accident that almost killed Lieutenant Fischer was highly improbable, though not completely impossible. Emerson had contemplated the odds of a pulse rifle spontaneously overloading, he thought them non-existent. The Dermont's computer calculated them at 800,794,121 to 1. Were there even that many pulse rifles in the IC? Fortunately, Fischer had heard the distinct shrill whine of an overload from the weapons locker and began running towards the armoury door. The explosion had pushed her through the open doorway, slamming her violently against the opposing bulkhead. She was badly burned, had broken several bones and incurred numerous shrapnel lacerations across her body. No skull fractures or major internal injuries, fortunately. Still, she was in pretty bad shape and would be confined to a sick bay ReGen chamber for at least a month, maybe longer. Vexingly, there wasn’t much that could be investigated. The rifle in question had all but vaporized itself. Inquiries continued but this looked to be a freak accident due to faulty manufacturing.
Faulty manufacturing, crew members forgetting to manually lock down airlocks - not to mention several other random system errors - two of which had sent crew members to sick bay. All of this in the last 5 weeks! Emerson was turning these events around in his mind when the intercom chimed.
“Yes?”
“Michael, can you come to hangar bay two? There’s an issue with the shuttle Palomar’s navigation system that I could use your help with.” Bissett’s voice was even, but her accent was more pronounced. He knew this to be a bad sign. Calling him to personally review an issue with a shuttle’s nav system was also highly unusual, his experience with them notwithstanding. Not to mention the numerous aircraft maintenance techs typically on duty rotation who could assist. There was something else at play here.
“I’ll be right there.”
A short time later, he entered the shuttle and took the co-pilot seat. Bissett immediately closed the aft ramp door then proceeded to power down before swiveling the pilot’s seat towards him to speak.
“Pardonne-moi pour le secret, Michael…I needed to talk to you where we can’t be heard.” Emerson’s face showed his perplexity.
“I trust you Danni, what’s this really about?” She took a sharp breath in.
“I‘ve been working with Lieutenant Commander Copeland on some computer forensics in regards to the accidents with Watanabe and Fischer. Our original conclusions weren’t sitting right with me. There was something about the accidents that seemed a little too…” She searched for the word. “...deliberate.”
Emerson nodded. “Both of the circumstances seem suspect. I think Fischer’s more so than Watanabe’s. Watanabe’s death can be written off as a tragic mistake, however unlikely it may be, but Fisher’s accident…”
”Oui. I needed to make sure my suspicions had some substance, not just feminine intuition gone amok. We can’t confirm anything with absolute certainty yet but, Michael... these accidents are pointing to Pandora. More accurately, to the space in the mainframe where she is housed.”
With a mixture of shock and skepticism, Emerson pondered her theory. Pandora had been uploaded to the mainframe almost eight months ago and had performed beyond his, or the IC’s, expectations, without a hint of malfunction. Remote diagnostics from the IC lab in Florence had confirmed this as little as two weeks ago. However, Bissett had a point. Pandora was a variable they hadn’t considered in the recent string of occurrences.
“It’s a reasonable assumption but how, and why? It was our understanding that she only has access to the ship's intelligence archives, roster and basic operational information. Not any of the Dermont's functions or system controls.”
“That is what the IC engineers told us, and I believe them. However, Copeland found some strange things when he delved deeper into Watanabe’s accident...”
Bissett went on to explain that the ships' cameras showed Watanabe entering the airlock, glancing at the outer hatch controls, then proceeding to work on the panel without locking the hatch. Copeland had zoomed in on the controls, they read that the manual pins were in place, which was impossible as Watanabe had never engaged them. Five minutes later, he was blown out into space. Footage from that day, and a few days prior, showed that no one else had entered that airlock. This only deepened the mystery, driving Copeland and Bissett to go back and trace Watannabe’s steps from engineering to the hatch. They noticed that halfway there he had pulled his DatScroll from the leg pocket of his coveralls. Bissett pulled out her tablet and played footage of Watanabe regarding the screen as he strolled down the corridor.
“Hey Toni, it’s Ava!” came the voice from the DatScroll.
“Hey Ava, what’s up?”
“I was doing some maintenance by hatch 33 and thought I would save you the trouble of locking it. You can thank me later with a beer.” Watanabe laughed.
“Sounds fair, and thank you! See you later then.”
“See ya!” Bissett paused the footage.
“Ava,” Bissett explained. “is Lieutenant Ava Bauer. She worked with Watanabe. We interviewed her, she said she never made that call. They talked briefly when duty rosters were handed out that morning in engineering, but nothing further. We checked her com log, there wasn’t one outgoing call to Watanabe that day, nor, as the footage we reviewed showed, was she ever anywhere near hatch thirty-three.”
A sinking feeling settled in Emerson’s gut. The only logical conclusion, given Bissett’s findings, was intentional tampering. Tampering with malice, considering Watanabe had been given the false impression that the hatch had already been locked. But Pandora? What reason would an AI have to kill? Theoretically the only reason, if standard android programming was followed, would be to prevent one human from murdering another. Even at that, he couldn’t recall a single incident of an android using lethal force, much less a disembodied AI.
“Also,” she continued. “After Copeland’s findings, I went to engineering and asked Chief Engineer Huber about the probability of the panel giving a false lock reading. I won’t even attempt to go into the technical detail he tried to walk me through. Bottom line, barring direct interference, it’s statistically impossible.”
More damning, Bissett went on to explain, Copeland had discovered some not-very-well-covered digital footprints. Footprints that indicated a re-programming of the hatch panel. The digital trail led back to the area of the ship's server where Pandora is housed. This didn’t specifically mean it was Pandora however, she is the only program in that area capable of thought and independent action. Everything else is automated routines and sub-routines. Copeland was in the process of making a more detailed analysis but one thing he was sure of, the tampering hadn’t been done by a crew member. If this were the case, the digital trail would have led to a specific control panel or datscroll.
The evidence was far from irrefutable, but compelling, thought Emerson. Had he missed something about Pandora? He interacted with her on a daily basis, she didn’t seem to be acting any differently nor had she exhibited any problems in her day-to-day functions. Bissett had stopped moments ago to regard him.
“Michael?”
A sudden conclusion was drawn in his mind. “The accident with the pulse rifle in the armoury. Could that have been triggered through the same software used to track them?”
She nodded gravely. “That is our theory.”
“Any trails back to Pandora?”
“Not yet, with Copeland focusing on Watanabe’s accident we haven’t even started on Fischer’s.” Her voice lowered and took on a grave tone. “Michael, if this is true and Pandora has infiltrated the ship's control systems, there’s nothing she can’t do. That’s why I wanted to meet in here,” she waved around. “ Where there are no audio or visual feeds that can be accessed by the Dermont’s systems. Copeland and I are so wary of her that we’ve only been discussing this face to face. Copeland has gone so far as to mask his digital research trails as routine diagnostics. I know..I know, it seems like an excessive amount of caution but, if she does have a glitch, and a deadly one at that, she could be a danger to us all.” He nodded gravely in agreement.
“But why Watanabe and Fischer? Watanabe has never had contact with Pandora and Fischer only spoke to her once, in our meeting about Nelvana Seven. I didn’t notice anything off.” A strange look washed across Bissett’s face. “What?”
“I have a theory Michael, it may be somewhat far fetched and is purely based on a notion I can’t shake - but I have a sinking feeling I’m right. I don’t know about Watanabe, but when you were talking to Fischer that day, neither of you saw it, for a moment Pandora looked jealous. I think she saw Ava as some sort of rival for your attention.”