Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 566
Her eyes were open. Seeing this, Axel stopped dead at
the entrance. The two attending technicians noted his
presence; one came over. "We’re just waiting for the
commander," she said. "Then we can start getting its
deposition, if it wants to talk."
The thing looked at him. It had pale grey eyes. The
impact of its gaze made his skin crawl.
"Axel, my friend," it said in a familiar voice. "So good to
see you again."
He knew that voice. Its tone was measured, musical, as
though the speaker were savoring every syllable spoken. So
like Calandria May’s voice, he had always felt, but different in
its underlying serenity.
Marya bounced to a stop next to him. "Is it talking?" she
asked loudly.
Axel let himself drift into the center of the high chamber,
nearer the patient. "Are you who I think you are?" he asked.
It arched a brow just as Calandria would have. "You
know me, Axel," it said. "I am the Desert Voice."
"Chan!" It was the ship’s commander, hanging next to
Marya in the doorway. "Do you know this thing?"
He rotated to face the watching humans. "Yes," he said.
"I think. I mean--I’m not sure."
He turned back to the imitation of Calandria. "Desert
Voice was the name of Calandria May’s starship," he said.
"Are you trying to tell me you are that ship?"
It nodded. For the first time its expressionless face
changed, a minor ripple of what looked like worry touching its
brow.
Marya came over, braking her drift with a hand on Axel’s
shoulder. "You’re the ship’s AI," she said. "But... this body...