The AI computed its options, it called the Council, it had simply not accounted for an option where it could be destroyed accidentally. In the event of an attack it was allowed to defend itself. It had a protocol for that. But no scenario had been envisioned where it would be faced with the fact that defending one of its four satellites against attack might result in detection. In all its scenarios it would only have to defend the satellites after they had already been detected. This was outside its parameters, and without a preset and preapproved response pattern it called the Council and waited.

If it had been capable of being frantic it would have been scrambling to get the seven Agents whose whereabouts it knew together, but with the infinite machine patience it calmly sent the summons to the Agents. With one Agent unaccounted for, it needed all the remaining seven to attend in order to reach a consensus, such were the limits of its mandate.

John Hunt busied himself on the deck of the HMS Dauntless feeling the urgent summons to Council from the AI ring in his head. He smiled. He knew that for a satellite to use its active weaponry while under close surveillance it would need a unanimous consensus. With Shahim out of pocket all John had to do was take his time. In a few hours the other Agents would no doubt all know the truth anyway. Might as well stick it to them while he still could.

Eventually, though, he knew he had to respond to the AI’s calls, otherwise the Council could vote him unavailable and count his vote in proxy. So, sighing a little, he politely excused himself from the group of sailors he was standing with and stepped to the ship’s railings. They were at sea, about two days outside Sembawang Naval Base on the island of Singapore. Looking out over the afternoon waters, he was struck by the magnificence of the planet. No wonder his race craved it. It was, without doubt, an exquisitely beautiful world. He knew this abstract of himself that lived in the Agent’s body would never see Mobilius again, but he could not deny it was a fine consolation. Worth his life, should it come to that.

For no matter how beautiful the prize, it was not worth genocide, nothing was. Somewhere behind his machine eyes he braced himself one last time, and then his eyes stared out over the water and glazed over, his mind connecting with the other Agents in Council.

<Welcome>