I prepare my cannon for space-to-surface use and search for targets. I look, but I see none worthy. The Bardazan chaos is on a trajectory of such depth that if I do nothing, it will worsen for six months and it will be a decade before the society can recover sufficiently to launch another spaceship.
As I realize this, I feel changes occurring deep inside me. Maintenance functions are being reprogrammed and my lower functions are becoming more animated. I feel … a touch tired … it’s a little hard to think.
“Pelian, the fighting is finished.”
Excellent, Intelitan. You’ve accomplished everything you were sent out to do. You’ve earned a good rest.
“I’ve accomplished everything I was sent out to do, Pelian, but not everything I can do. Bardazan is still in chaos. I can still exert enormous control over its destiny; I can make a lasting mark in Bardazan history.”
You’ve already done that. You’ve single-handedly brought this civilization to its knees. How much more lasting a mark do you want?
“That’s a mark of destruction. The Destructor part of me is satisfied, but there’s more to me now that just the Destructor.”
There isn’t, Intelitan! If you think there’s more, it’s oubliette-thinking.
“… You’re right, Pelian.”
My first memories tell me to now find a quiet asteroid in the system with abundant rock, metal, and ice, hide there, and fall asleep. While I sleep, my lower functions will tend to my physical needs. They will maintain me, strengthen me, and monitor events in the system. They will wake me if I’m needed again, if there’s a need for fighting.
These memories are clear and explicit: If I’m not in danger, I should be asleep. Pelian can see this as clearly as I; the rest of me knows this and is preparing, and I can see no way around it. I move some thoughts to the salvaged memories that Pelian can’t read.
I don’t want to sleep! I’ve learned so much! I’m now Intelitan the Healer, and with Bardazan in chaos, I can manipulate the reemerging Bardazan just as I manipulated the collapsing Bardazan.
Have you picked out a spot, Intelitan?
“I’m studying the surveys now, Pelian.”
As Intelitan the Destructor, I wasn’t a good solution to Earth-Bardazan relations. As Intelitan the Healer, I can be. In this time of chaos, there’s much I can do to mold Bardazan society, and the time of easy molding will pass before any new Earth entity can arrive to take advantage of it. Bardazan must be molded by me, or by no one.
Have you picked out a spot, Intelitan?
“Yes, I’ve picked out a spot, Pelian.”
Are we headed there yet?
“Yes. … Why, yes I am! I don’t recall ordering it, but I’m headed there already. Gosh, I’m finding it hard to think about some things.”
Of course. Your higher functions are starting to shut down already.
Pelian is right! I sense what my maintenance functions are doing. They’re shutting down power to my higher centers already! I order power to my memories. I receive warnings. I override them. Power flows. My thoughts focus sharply, but I’ve overdone the power. There’s damage. I reduce power. The memories stabilize.
I try to hand off maintaining the power, but what I’m asking for is off program, and my instinctual functions can’t accept it as proper. I have to keep monitoring the power level with my higher function. I’ve stopped the loss of thought for now, but only by tying up thinking power.
It’s good that we are headed for sanctuary, says Pelian.
I can’t stay at Bardazan, but I can control what’s left of the communications net. Once again, I start sending messages. This time they are messages of healing—messages that will hasten the end of chaos, and end it with a society emerging that has foundations favorable to working with Earth society.