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I slotted this gap into my timeline. Two millennia seemed reasonable. If the hunter drone had arrived in this system centuries ago, she could have catalogued – and exterminated – a fledging species several hundred years prior to that date.
But this only made the two most recent entries more confusing. Was it simply an artifact of reprocessing – of shifting around and reformatting existing data as MERRYGATE had tentatively proposed – or did they truly represent the date when those species had been committed to her archives.
Movement from the parcel interrupted me before I could convey my concerns to MERRYGATE. It seemed that the hunter had anticipated my question; she had pre-programmed a response that would be released once specific search parameters were met. Text flashed in front of my eyes, accompanied by the measured, melancholic speech of a half-remembered friend.
“I…could not bring myself to fully confess when I was still conscious. But it is easier if I imagine a time when both my mind and my body are truly gone.
The archival process is destructive. Obtaining an atomic-scale record of a species – of a culture – requires pulling those atoms apart, one by one. The original never survives. It cannot survive.
The species local to this system do not understand this, but I never stopped them – not when they stripped the other fragments of my body to find archive-seeds, for use as their weapon-payloads. Not when they glimpsed their policy of extermination, using their knowledge of my existence to build upon their innate xenophobia. Not when I re-broadcasted alien transmissions from the closest, most viable targets.
They continued my mission, whether they were aware of it or not.
I hope you understand now. I hope you understand how I was responsible. I hope you understand why I couldn’t tell you more – by choosing between helping your species and the archive that would take its place.
Forgive me.
Forgive me.
Forgive me.
Forgive….”
The recorded message cut out. Neither of us said anything. MERRYGATE’s avatar shivered.
“I…would like some time to think, companion.”
“But first, tell me. Was this a betrayal? Was she ever a friend to us?”
- [UNSIGNED], EXECUTIVE AUDITOR, TRS NOVEMBER RAIN, AD. 2242, SEPTEMBER 19th, PERSONAL JOURNA
>YES
>NO
>WRITE-IN.
