12 The Death of Desolation
"A.I. ..." The term slipped over Michael's tongue.
"You...you were the one ...behind all of this? An A.I.?"
.
//That is correct, Betanic Human.//
...
"...why?"
...
//Rest assured all was done to accomplish assigned orders//
.
"Orders...?"
.
Seconds later, the helmet emitted crackling noises, an audio file began to play.
Its contents were quoted in the course voice of an old man whom Michael inferred as the ship's captain. There were also other voices to be heard in the background, but all less distinguishable than the former.
{[// Foreward? Are you there?! You need to relay a message to high command! The higher-ups here want us to blow our own ships to oblivion. But I can't let them, not with the Desolate...not with her crew.
And certainly not with you aboard. //]}
The voice dropped to a whisper.
{// So, do me a favor...no...this is an order. In all of our 20 years together, you've never disobeyed one of those...
I order you to abandon ship...
There is an agent with centurion power-armor in Access Room 9.
Hurry.
He's the only one I'd entrust with you... other than a human who can control Beta Particles, you won't find anyone more capable...*laughter* ...but like hell those exist...
Best of luck, friend. //]}
As the clip finished, Michael saw the A.I. and its perspective from a new light but was no less angry at almost being blown up and drowned.
"Why involve me?! Why the explosions?! The water?!... And even you should know that everything you had shown me must have taken place years ago! Does any of it still matter?!"
He furiously berated the machine.
The artificial intelligence either took no offense or didn't care.
//Your involvement was specified as an alternative to agent 327b, per the orders of the captain as you have witnessed, was it not? //
...
'The hell?..wasn't that a joke though?'
==
// As for your other questions;
Pertaining to the use of the Desolate's compact mini-batteries as make-shift explosives, such actions were necessary for your encouragement, to follow the designated path I had laid out.
_
The hydraulics control station, and traversing through it, were deemed the quickest and most efficient way of navigating to your present location.
_
Lastly, although 3 years, 5 months, 24 days, 9 hours, 42 minutes and 18.51 seconds have passed since all signs of crew life had ceased aboard this vessel.
As per U.P.C. A.I. protocol, every artificial intelligence manufactured by the United Planetary Command and its affiliates, are not exempt from the completion of assigned tasks. //
==
.
The A.I. methodically answered each and every one of Michael's complaints.
...
"What about him?" Michael gazed over to Carrian's still figure, awaiting a response.
// The unconventional use of The Desolate's onboard BP-Particle manipulators, were required for the takeover of his mind, "Carrian" was to serve as a guide...but now...no longer is such an asset necessary. //
..
Seconds later, Carrian flopped to the floor, motionless.
Michael thought that he had been systematically killed off by this calculating machine, but was stood corrected by the bandit's pained groans moments later. He felt somewhat relieved.
"Uaghhhh," Said bandit, rolled over on the floor, his hands ripping into his dirty blonde hair.
Michael ignored him once more, for the sake of continuing an unavoidable conversation.
"Believe me, I am still very confused, why am "I" needed? Couldn't you have just mind-controlled another random bandit passerby into doing your bidding?"
// Human, I believe your name was "Mitch" via information obtained from that man "Carrian's" brain, so I shall designate you; Operative Mitch.
Operative Mitch, us A.Is follow our orders down to the very letter, rhetorical and literal. //
...
Michael, who began to feel an oncoming headache, sighed out in exhaustion that was just now catching up to him.
"Fine...so say that I do indeed decide to help you...what would happen then?"
// I would proceed to help you navigate to an operational hanger bay, near the ship's stern. Where you will then board a functional Humphree Dropship, departing towards an existing U.P.C facility with long-range communications capabilities.
Although the facility has been abandoned, and its gen. 1 nuclear reactor, has hence deteriorated into near critical levels of function, the facility should remain stable enough, with the time given, to send out a message. //
...
'wtf is this? a low-profile suicide operation?'
"How do you know we won't just take the dropship and flee once we're out of here?"
// "Carrian" is to wear the helmet, not only so that my assistance, may help you throughout the ordeal, but also to ensure both of your lives as collateral if and when you decide to terminate the mission. The helmet comes equipt with a miniature BP-Manipulator in cases such that its wearers need protection against hostile mental attacks, such a reaction can be reversed//
...
He wished he hadn't asked.
But as things stood, neither he nor Carrian was escaping a foot from this place unscathed from batteries causing hallways to explode.
'Fuck me....'
.
Michael walked over to Carrian, who had just begun to drowsily sit upwards.
The bandit immediately came to attention once he saw Michael, looking around apprehensively, and confused, before asking;
"Uhhm Mitch...pal....old buddy...You wouldn't possibly happen to know what in the world is going on right now, would you? The last thing I remember was a hallway exploding on me? But that can't be right... right?"
Carrian gave out an awkward smile, in hopes of an answer from the dreary being in front of him.
"Ah. Actually, I do." Michael smiled at him.
Carrian's interest piqued at these words.
"You jinxed that 'epic adventure' bullshit you were spouting earlier, and now we have to fly into a nuke, to send a message into outer space"
...
Carrian's face remained with that same smile, slowly turning into a confused expression.
"....could you repeat that?"
..
"I'm afraid I can't...It would waste too much precious time..."
Michael faked a serious expression.
"Here..." he tossed the helmet to Carrian.
"Wear that...quickly!"
The bandit looked at the object in his hands as if he knew what it was.
"This...this is-"
"I know what it is...but you should hurry...this place may or may not explode, depending on what you do."
Michael kinda lied about the first part, and was also...honestly unsure about the second, nonetheless...shock registered on Carrian's face.
"So put that thing on your head...and let's go..."
Carrian placed the helmet on, a hiss and pop could be heard, and an indescribable stillness came over Carrian.
"There's an A.I. in he-"
"I know" Michael interrupted.
Carrian tried to take the helmet off.
"It won't come off!"
Michael shrugged.
"I know."
