“Thanks to the efforts of your scouts and scientists, we’ve managed to get a clearer look at the specifics of the programming that drives the Centurions,” Stroth began, taking an even tone to ensure absolute clarity. “The prognosis is… bleak.” At the final word, she failed to constrain the waver in her voice.
For a long span, the only sound was the ticking and whirring of the machinery that encircled the chamber of the Ele Congregate. The Conductor leant forward slightly, and prompted, “Go on.”
“The Centurion doesn’t think like a sentient being does,” the former curator explained, “but through the digital keyhole of a single connection point, its adaptive survival systems resemble thinking enough for the Metanation to want to connect with it. The Metanation instinctively reaches out to minds that enter its field of coverage; that’s how it grows. You can’t stop that any more than you can stop someone from thinking.”
Stroth paused, steadying herself a little.
“The Centurion sees the Metanation’s continuous attempts to connect with it, unsuccessfully because the Centurion does not have a mind, as, uh… a threat. A sort of cyber-attack, constant and inescapable. And…” she gulped down the lump of fear forming in her throat.
“And the Centurion is programmed to eliminate any threat along its trajectory that it cannot escape,” the Warrior pre-empted her conclusion grimly. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” Stroth stuttered, with an affirmative nod. “To complete their mission of discovery, the Centurions believe they must destroy the Ele Metanation.”
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