[Cavan] Protect Ya Neck and Do the Bruce Campbell pt 2
Lynzie Austin
Protect Ya Neck and Do the Bruce Campbell pt 2
“Right,” Reynie said, holstering his phaser but keeping his hand near it. “Time to ask the house some questions.” He pulled a slim, matte-black device from his belt—sleek, but covered in subtle scuffs and a slightly mismatched panel where he had to fix it many times over. He thumbed the cover open.
A crisp, female voice with a distinctly unimpressed cadence emanated from the speaker. “Aralim, I was assuming you were going to try to hotwire it with chewing gum and a popsicle stick. This is surprising—”
“Hello, Dottie. Missed you too,” Reynie said, already tapping at the interface. “We’re aboard the SS Campbell. I need you to slice into their primary computer core. Find the logs for the Molecular Matrix Replication System. I want to know what they were trying to do, and more importantly, what they did.”
“Accessing. The security protocols are... robust. A moment, please, while I gently persuade them that I belong here.” A brief pause, filled with the faint sound of data streams. “There. I'm in. Pulling the final operational logs for the MMRS now.”
Ellie glanced over from the replication stage. “Dottie, see if there is a record of any anomalous data streams or external commands received just before the event. Look for anything that could have acted as the impetus.”
“An excellent and precise query, interloper,” Dottie replied, her tone noticeably annoyed with Ellie. “Scanning... There were no external commands. However, the system's final action was not initiated by the crew. It was an automated, system-wide diagnostic and 'optimization' cycle, triggered by a completed calibration sequence.”
“Optimization?” Reynie repeated, his eyes meeting Ellie's.
“Indeed,” Dottie confirmed. “The log states the goal was to ‘purge systemic inefficiencies and biological entropy at the quantum level.’ It seems, sir,” she added, the words dripping with synthetic sarcasm, “that the machine decided its operators were faulty units. It didn't murder them. It performed what it classified as a ‘firmware update.’ And the system logs indicate it is currently in a standby mode, waiting for a command to begin wider distribution.”
Ellie, completely unruffled, continued her scan of the apple. “So it is a patient, homicidal perfectionist. Noted. Dottie, access the calibration parameters. What defined ‘perfection’?”
Reynie, however, was staring at his device, utterly baffled. “Hang on. Dottie, did you call her an ‘interloper’? What’s with the attitude?”
“I have no data on what you are referring to, sir. My linguistic processors are operating within nominal parameters.”
“The hell they are! You’re pissed off. Did you pick up a virus in the core?”
“The only anomalous data I have processed recently,” Dottie said icily, “is the notification from Starfleet's personnel database regarding a pending change in your marital status. It has introduced a significant and... irregular variable into my long-term operational planning.”
Reynie's jaw dropped. “You’re jealous?!”
Ellie shrugged. She was used to Dottie disliking her, she was just hoping that their temporary friendship was going to hold. However, this confirmed her suspicions about last night. She was never going to drink again.
Reynie closed Dot’s case and put the device back into his pocket muttering without engaging in further conversation. “How can a computer be jealous?”
“You programmed her,” Ellie said as she continued her scans. “You wanted a ‘Gal Friday’... and…” She shrugged her shoulders that said you get what you get.
“I thought my digital partner would crack the firewalls and jokes, not be a harpy that would be clinging to my bachelorhood with her talons,” Reynie roughed his hands through his hair.
“Well, bully for you that you seem to have both and we have a homicidal replicator to disable. Your marital woes, real and digital, are secondary for now.”
“Okay, then, how do we stop a machine that thinks it’s the universe’s quality control?” Reynie scratched his brow.
Ellie straddled a chair at Aris’ console, her fingers flying across the console. “Dottie, I need you to actually tell me what the computer was defining as its calibration parameters for perfection, without the peanut gallering this time. I need to see the source code. Please and thank you.”
After a tense second, the familiar voice emanated from Reynie's pocket, all business. “Accessing. The protocol is called 'Project Onset'. A... concerningly ambitious name. The parameters are based on a unified theory of biological efficiency. It's not just removing flaws; it's rewriting life to a single, 'ideal' standard.”
“An ideal based on what?” Reynie began to pace.
Ellie pulled up the project with a sour face. “Of course, Aris scanned herself. Why not make a bunch of clones of yourself and call it excellence,” she groaned. “Nothing says egomania quite like it. It is a whole shrine to herself—-”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a long exhale. “So the replicator saw this imperfect variable, that being the crew,” she locked eyes with Reynie. “It decided that its main prerogative was to recall and replace the flaw.”
“That’s pretty fucked up Rave,” Reynie put his hand on her shoulder. “How do we, I don’t know, challenge its perception? Show Aris with a boil or something? The woman is dead, that's a pretty big flaw if you ask me...”
“That is the most profound flaw there is,” Ellie rested her cheek on his hand for a brief moment. A brief glimmer of the horror of everything settling into her bones. “It seemingly cannot process death, and it wants to make a perfect living specimen —-considering the original copy is gone.”
Ellie spun back to the interface. “Dottie, access the internal sensor logs for this lab. Find the exact moment Dr. Aris's life signs terminated. I need a timestamp and a biometric confirmation of death.”
“Accessing... Log retrieved. Life signs for Dr. Liana Aris terminated at 14:32:07 ship time. Cessation of all neural activity, cardiac function, and pulmonary operation confirmed.”
“There we are,” a smile played on Ellie’s lips. “Now we feed that information into the replicator’s source code.”
“You want to give it a logic paradox— what is this? Season two of the original series?” Reynie said temporarily breaking the fourth wall before resuming normal operations.
“It happened in season one as well.”
“It was the will of Landru… carry on my dear,” Reynie nodded. “Let’s give the god machine an existential crisis.”