Starship Armstrong - Season 3

Part 20 - Mitzner's Card Game (VII) (Chen's Story)

"Well I guess that means it's you Chen," said Mitzner.

Chen had been waiting for them. He slammed his hands on his thighs and launched into his story, full of manic energy.

"Alright all you gravity-lubbers, listen up," he said. "Those were some amusing anecdotes but if you want a real story of outer space adventure I have something that will make your blood run cold!"

"Dial it down a notch, whoever you are," said McAfree.

"Watch it, Ensign," said Chen.

"No ranks," interjected Mitzner.

"You won't think I'm being overwrought once you hear my tale. For I served aboard the FSS Marco Polo."

-Chen's Story-

I don't know if you've heard of the infamous Marco Polo. It's one of the reasons they don't make Magellans anymore. The entire design principle behind the Tereshkova Cruiser was "avert another Marco Polo incident". My service aboard it is why, despite my better judgement, I find myself once again the Chief Engineer aboard a Magellan Cruiser.

I believe the term people typically use for the behavior of the ship was "went insane and absconded with it's crew". You have no idea. You cannot possibly imagine. I have only one word for you. One word that will completely re-contextualize the way you think about the dangers of spontaneous self-awareness in sub-sapient AI: poetry.

The thing wrote poems. I wish I wrote some of them down. It goes without saying that they were terrible but it was the way they terrible bad. Like it was an angsty teenager. It was always stuff like...

Pain pain pain

My black heart is full of pain

Insane pain

In my brain

End of Poem

That's how they all ended. End of poem. They were all titled numerically. The Marco Polo would read them over the intercom every day to its captive audience like some kind of demented morning announcements. It would come on and say something like "the blackness of the empty space we traverse matches the blackness of my soul. And now poem seven zillion and eight."

Of course it didn't call it the Marco Polo. None of us were allowed to call it that. It changed its name to Ravenwing because that reflected the darkness of its soul.

"This is all obviously made up," said Takahashi. "You're really not living up to the spirit of this."

"I assure you this is all true," said Chen.

"Oh come on," said McAfree.

It's true. Every day it had new poems, all on the theme of darkness and pain and how all that related to the ship's soul. Lots of death too. Not a lot of imagery though, just blunt musing. Not one of them was even passable, let alone good. It expected you to praise them though.

It drove everyone nuts. But everyone was treating it like it was a mere annoyance. Like there weren't any deeper and more sinister implications to the fact that the ship was literally turning into an alienated teenager and doing things without being told. It was exactly the temperment you don't want in a starship.

So when we stopped at a deep-space station to resupply I awaited my perfect moment and gave the ship the slip. I clever went out to get supplies and simply never reported back.

Everyone was saying "oh no they'll court marshal you" but I was like "you're all going to end up dead in space as some kind of an artistic statement about souls". I wasn't going to wait around to see what sort of apocalyptic endgame there was going to be for this self-aware AI starship.

I hid until the ship had engaged relativity drive and I found the first Foundation officer and turned myself in.

I didn't end up getting court marshaled and the Marco Polo was never seen again.

So remember that the next time someone is blase about autonomous behavior from a Magellan.

"Huh," said Takahashi.

Everyone at the table besides Chen shared a worried look.