PeterWatts_Blindsight

Peter Watts 226 Blindsight
conduit, ammunition reservoirs and shark-toothed rows of radiator
fins— all to disappear beneath smooth reflective shielding. Only a
few island landmarks would rise above that surface: comm ports,
thrust nozzles, targeting arrays. And gun ports, of course. These
things spat fire and brimstone from a half-dozen mouths apiece.
But for the time being they were just giant mechanical fetuses,
half-extruded, their planes and angles a high-contrast jigsaw of
light and shadow in the harsh white glow of the hold's floodlamps.
I turned from the port. "That's got to take our substrate
stockpiles down a bit."
"Shielding the carapace was worse." Bates monitored
construction through a dedicated flatscreen built right into the Fab
bulkhead. Practicing, perhaps; we'd be losing our inlays as soon as
the orbit changed. "We're tapping out, though. Might have to grab
one of the local rocks before long."
"Huh." I looked back into the hold. "You think they're
necessary?"
"Doesn't matter what I think. You're a bright guy, Siri. Why
can't you figure that out?"
"It matters to me. That means it matters to Earth."
Which might mean something, if Earth was calling the shots.
Some subtext was legible no matter how deep in the system you
were.
I tacked to port: "How about Sarasti and the Captain, then? Any
thoughts?"
"You're usually a bit more subtle."
That much was true. "It's just, you know Susan was the one that
caught Stretch and Clench tapping back and forth, right?"
Bates winced at the names. "So?"
"Well, some might think it odd that Theseus wouldn't have seen
it first. Since quantum computers are supposed to be so proficient
at pattern-matching."
"Sarasti took the quantum modules offline. The onboard's been
running in classical mode since before we even made orbit."
"Why?"
"Noisy environment. Too much risk of decoherence. Quantum
computers are finicky things."