Dominion by John Connolly Page B

them too, and had begun analyzing them, trying to determine what they might mean.
    â€œI think it’s a form of communication,” she said. “They’re signals being sent from one part of the ship to the other.”
    â€œBy the crew?” asked Steven.
    â€œI assume so, except . . .”
    â€œExcept?”
    â€œThere doesn’t seem to be a crew. On a vessel this size, we’d surely have seen some sign of them by now. It’s like a ghost ship.”
    â€œBut Syl felt them.”
    â€œSyl felt something,” said Alis. “I don’t doubt that. I’m just not sure it was the crew.”
    â€œMaybe they’re dead,” said Rizzo matter-of-factly.
    â€œThen what was she hearing?” asked Steven. “Spirits?”
    â€œWhen we were in basic training, Peris told me about an Illyri warship called the Margus . Did you ever hear of it?”
    Steven shook his head, but Alis retrieved the details from her memory.
    â€œI know of it, Rizzo. It was long before the Illyri encountered humanity—or any other advanced species, for that matter—and they had to do their own dirty work on far-flung planets. An infection was brought on board the Margus following an exploration mission to a new moon: a virus of some kind that the ship’s medical systems failed to detect. It killed the entire crew; almost six hundred Illyri, all wiped out in a matter of hours, and the virus left no trace of its presence, beyond the bodies. When the remains were examined, they were found to be entirely clear of any lethal contaminant. It’s one of the great mysteries of Illyri exploration: a ship floating through space, steered by corpses.”
    â€œIt was the early days of neural Chips,” said Rizzo. “They were always malfunctioning, according to Peris, and surgeons were forever having to perform tweaks on them. When the crew started to die, the Chips responded with some kind of spontaneous upload of data: fragments of speech, last messages to loved ones, all sent directly to the ship’s systems. So when the first rescue crews entered the Margus , all they heard were the voices of the dead.”
    â€œGhosts in the machine,” said Steven.
    â€œEven after they powered down the computers and rebooted, the voices were still there,” continued Rizzo. “No one could ever figure out where in the system they’d embedded themselves. Eventually, the Margus had to be entirely refitted, but even then a lot of Illyri preferred not to serve on it, apparently. It was said that the voices could still be heard, whispering in the background of open channels.”
    â€œI thought the Illyri weren’t superstitious,” said Steven. “They don’t believe in an afterlife.”
    â€œOh, they didn’t think that the ship was haunted,” said Alis. “It was just bad for morale. Eventually, the Margus was scrapped.”
    â€œBad for morale?” repeated Rizzo. “Right.” She blew air through her nose disdainfully.
    â€œYou think this might be another Margus ?” said Steven to Alis.
    â€œNo, this is something stranger, and more advanced. Whatever is controlling this ship, it’s not spirits.”
    Steven was staring at her curiously.
    â€œWhat?” she said.
    â€œI don’t want to offend you.”
    â€œYou won’t.”
    â€œThat phrase, ‘ghosts in the machine,’ I think I once heard it used about the Mechs’ belief in a god. Your conviction that you had a soul was—”
    â€œA system defect,” Alis finished for him. “A glitch. But what is a soul? Perhaps it’s nothing more than a manifestation of our consciousness that survives the final destruction of our bodies. It is what continues. It is what endures. It is the ghost in the machine of the universe.”
    The Nomad shook, and its cabin door opened. Once again, a bridge had connected it to the alien ship.