Code, Chapter Three

Phoenix Prime’s burning hand was aimed once more at Scientooth’s throne on high.

“So,” commenced her clone Phoenix, to the solitary unprotected mechanism which sat therein. “Zat is what you would ’ave us do, while my loved one lies ’elpless on ze life-support? Zat is ’ow you occupy our time, when all we ask is your aid?”

Her glare was as fiery as her originator’s digits. In contempt she went on:

“Somewhere, back amidst ze forgotten chaptairs of your quadrant’s ancient ’istory, is some painfully unimaginative programmair who, to our regret, ’as left ’is stamp on ze ages. For I thought ’is first children ze Vernderernders a trite enough assemblage, with zeir galactic empire and one-dimensional warlike aspirations. But you, monsieur? You ’ave turned ze rusty cliché into a fine art. On defecting from Toothfire, zis is all you could think of as your next step? Zis is what felt to you ze propair course? Some jury-rigged amphitheatre for death-matches in ze lawless galactic backwoods, starring zis ’ackneyed rag-tag mob of deadbeats and mercenaires? A precious human life ’angs in ze balance, and ’ere we are, supplying input to gratify your corrupted artificial intelligence’s neediness for prosaic conventions and tropes!”

Scientooth waited with dignity for her to finish. Then his jawpiece began to work again, as his vocal circuitry gave out slow laughter.

“Yes, pretty,” he drawled in reply, heavy irony suffusing every byte. “You know so much of machine-life. No doubt we are a benighted assortment by comparison to you infinitely more enlightened organics. Why, our every deed is directed by mere code. We can but do as our code instructs us. How can that compare, to the panoply of independent choices available to truly sentient beings?”

“Why don’t you tell us where you’re going with this, Scientooth?” demanded 4-H-N.

“I would be glad to,” he returned. “For you see, I took the liberty of learning a little of you in advance, when my spies reported visitors from that fabled far-off galaxy had sought the assistance of my doddering old friend Professor Grindo. It was thus I first heard tell of this so-called Four Heroes’ cause, to which you supposedly adhere. Your code, if you will. It has intriguing things to say about open aggression, and threats of violence, and interference in conflicts that are not your own.”

“Just in case you can’t hear us all the way up there, let me remind you one last time that we came to you in peace!” Carmilla burst out.

“Please,” scoffed Scientooth. “You arrive in a fully-equipped battleship, flying the colours of Toothfire’s wartime enemies the Grindoes, and wielding weaponry personally patented by my ancient nemesis? Would you deny me the right to defend myself? Now allow me to remind you in turn, pretty, that the war I speak of was not your war. You are guests in this quadrant, and though you have chosen to ally yourself with Professor Grindo, the fact remains that I never did you harm before you forced me to. Your cause takes a dim view of pirates and raiding-parties, does it not? And does it not dictate you sacrifice that which you would have, before you take unprovoked action against an innocent party?”

His monocle underwent a slight realignment, singling-out Phoenix Prime.

“You were quite correct when earlier you supposed the Vernderernders are without mercy to their betrayers,” Scientooth informed her. “So do you mean to hand me over to torture and my ultimate irretrievable disassembly? That you might plunder my knowledge to benefit one of your own affiliation? One whose perilous condition – and forgive me – I can hardly be accused of having wrought.”

Here it was necessary for 4-H-N to physically restrain Phoenix Prime, or otherwise she might have smelted Scientooth through the cranial module there and then. He, superb in his vantage-point, reverted his optic sensor to all four girls as he concluded:

“Make good on your threat, my pretties, and you cross a line. You compromise the very cause that he whose life you strive to save held so dear for so long. There is no going back from such a decision. The boy will recover, but everything you once fought for will have changed. That is how I know that for all your impressive displays of force, you are powerless. Ach, to hear you pronounce on the superiority of your way of life! Perhaps we machines are bound to our code, but I hope I have demonstrated it is no less so for you.”

Carmilla, knowing he was right, asked quietly: “Scientooth, will you tell us the cure of your own free will?”

“No,” replied Scientooth, with obvious enjoyment.

Turning to Phoenix, Carmilla said with a heavy sigh: “It’s over, little sis. We lose. He’s called our bluff.”

For long seconds, her addressee did nothing. Then, very slowly, Phoenix reached out and touched Phoenix Prime on the wrist. Gently she lowered the hand that had pointed at Scientooth, so that it rested harmlessly by Phoenix Prime’s side.

Whereupon Phoenix raised her gauntlet heavenwards, and fired. Her energy-beam punched a single dent neatly in the centre of Scientooth’s brow, stunning him, making the light in his monocle blink out at once. He toppled from his throne and hit the dais with a clank.

Into the appalled incredulous hush of her three sisters gazing on the tableau with identical huge eyes and gaping mouths, Phoenix declared:

“Load ’im on board. We patch up ze ship, and get out of ’ere.”

END OF CHAPTER THREE