Loris and Morg
Chapter 18

Copyright© 2012 by Old Man with a Pen

Loris and Morg: The Patrol; 2.

Glorious finally reported, "Captain, there have been some falsifications made to a report. The group reported 'No Contact' with any indigenous sentient beings. This was an outright fabrication."

The captain felt the muscle in his back get tighter. The vein in his forehead ... the one just above his right eye began to throb. He rubbed it. The skin there was very thin.

"You know this?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Continue, Glorious."

"Yes, Sir. The service demands unaltered hand written records. We use forms."

"I understand. I used forms as a junior."

"So you know the forms are a tear off from a packet?"

"Yes, where are we going here?"

"The clipboards ... and their forms are numbered and matched ... a team can not take a form from another clipboard."

"I know that."

"The pages are numbered."

"Shit!" The captain exclaimed, "I didn't know that."

"Yes, Sir." Glorious agreed ... he didn't know that.

The sheets had consecutive numbers printed with an ink that only appeared under a special light. It was a precautionary device. Very simple ... extremely reliable. The pages were numbered to prevent a team from violating any number of directives. Each day demanded a separate sheet. If there was a number missing ... then something was recorded that the team did not want uncovered.

"Which team?" he asked

"Four."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Glorious, as the ship, was responsible for disciplinary action. The High Command set it up so no human was guilty of inhumane or excessive punishment. The AI was sentient,,, but also organic. One could say almost human. There was that tiniest of gaps that separated lab bred from born wet.

The home system ... which included thousands of suns and millions of planets ... had advanced beyond nine months of bigger belly and a few hours of extreme discomfort.

Now, the female declared ... a male was selected, the two spent a wonderful time 'practicing' until...

The quickened egg spent the next nine months in an artificial womb ... and a few weeks in post natal care and DNA matching. The female spent the next few years as mother of a child ... Born wet.

The AI was mixed in a chemical lab ... poured in a mold ... subjected to certain other processes involving 'Master' AI's ... and indoctrinated with a series of Don't, No, Never and turned loose in a computer. There were far more 'wet' than 'dry.' The biggest difference between 'wet' and 'dry' was honesty.

AI's can't lie ... nor can they be lied to.

"What am I going to do? Get to the bottom of it and take disciplinary action on all parties involved. Captain ... you may not like it."

"That bad?"

"We can't leave."

"That bad."

"Yes." The AI continued. "I'll need to pull the team, check every inch of their route and try to make amends. There is usually something horrible at the end. But ... I ... Will ... Find ... Out!"

She pulled in the two women first.

"Junior officer Malik ... Junior officer Grondal."

"Yes?"

"Follow the light..." A small, blue, bright light appeared floating in front.

"Glorious?" Everyone on board knew the name ... designation ... class ... of the Artificial Intelligence. A personal request had the pair searching their memory for past actions ... being called was seldom good.

 
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