[Black Fleet Crisis] - 02(25)

“What exactly would you consider compelling proof? A fatality?”

“I’ve been reconsidering the incident in the airlock in light of Threepio’s accident,” Lobot said. “It’s possible that we misinterpreted the message which Artoo found in the airlock. It’s possible that the control you activated was an emergency lock close switch, which functioned exactly as intended.”

“What? No, that doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s even possible that we asked the vagabond to attempt an escape,” Lobot continued. “The prominence given to the symbology Artoo detected parallels the use of red and yellow as alert and caution colors, and arrows as pointers, in human artifacts.”

“You’re saying that if Threepio could read Qella, we’d have seen a sign saying ‘In case of emergency, pull here.”” Lobot nodded. “Isn’t the most prominent marking on the outside of a snub fighter the canopy release? What if we walked up to one knowing the meaning of an arrow but unable to read the word ‘Rescue’?”

“Here’s the problem with your theory that we hit the panic button,” Lando said. “The next time this ship had a chance, it tried to spit u out again— without us ever getting near that control yoke.”

“That ‘next time,’ we were burning a hole in an element of the primary defense system—a hole that the repair mechanisms were unable to close in the usual amount of time.”

“I take your point,” Lando said. “But after we did that, the ship has to have known we weren’t Qella and we weren’t friendly.”

“If the ship had the consciousness you attribute to it, and had formed an intent to remove us, it could have done so at any time while we were in the accumulator,” said Lobot. “It could have disposed of us while we slept just now. It could have opened the hull under your feet while you were placing the limpet. Yet it has done none of these things.”

“Hmm. And what kind of security system would forget about us once we’d managed to break in, eh?”

Lando said. “As though once we’d put our weapons away, we were no longer suspect. ‘Terribly sorry, forgot our keycode, had to blow up the entryway’- - ‘Oh, that’s all right, come in and make yourself comfortable—’” “I’ve been asking myself from the beginning what kind of intelligence we were facing,” Lobot said. “It’s the most interesting question before us—” “I’m still going with ‘Where’s my next meal coming from?”” Lando said. “And Artoo would probably vote for ‘Who put him in charge, anyway?”” Lobot patiently waited out the interruption, then went on. “I have projected how this ship would behave if you, or I, or Artoo, or Threepio were its master. Its real behavior does not match any of these models.”

“Pardon me, sir, but why should it?” asked Threepio, who had been listening attentively. “This vessel was not built by humans, or droids. We are not its masters. Its behavior can only be properly evaluated in the appropriate cultural context.”

“I disagree, Threepio. The conditions of the test dictate the form of the answers,” said Lobot. “If that were not so, the millions of species in this galaxy would have so little in common that there would be no need for your services.”

“He’s got a point, Threepio,” said Lando. “No matter where I’ve gone, or who I’ve been dealing with, the one thing that holds the deal together is that everyone’s looking out for their own end. I call it enlightened self-interest, and it’s the motor that powers the universe.”

“The conditions of the test are sentience and survival,” said Lobot.

“The form of the answer is to identify and neutralize threats. This ship has failed the test.

trolled by sentient beings. It is a work of great ingenuity, but it is not intelligent.”

“I see,” said Threepio. “Master Lando, should I discontinue my efforts to contact the masters of this vessel?”

“Just hang on, Threepio,” said Lando. “I’m still not sold on this.

Lobot, a ship of this size and complexity, successfully evading capture for more than a hundred years—there must be something or somebody in charge.”

“Something, yes. But not something sentient. I believe we were deceived by the apparent complexity into invoking a god hypothesis.”

“A god hypothesis?”

Lobot nodded. “When we spoke of the masters of this vessel, we assumed there was a consciousness observing us and controlling events in our environment,” he said. “We even turned to these masters to save us, respectfully offering entreaties and hoping for their intervention on our behalf.