by A. K. DuBoff
Trisha led her to a conference room on the eighth floor of the government building with seating for six and a view of a rooftop park across the street.
“Now you can be honest,” Ellen said as soon as the door was closed.
Trisha wilted. “I can’t trust myself.”
Being misled did have the tendency to make one question one’s sense of identity and judgment. Ellen had recently been through that exercise herself, though it was difficult to know what to say to help the other woman without sounding trite.
“A subversion of this scale goes beyond any one person’s responsibility. It’s important to remember you aren’t alone now,” Ellen said in an attempt to console her.
Trisha shook her head, her face paling. “I still can’t believe what I did.”
Ellen’s chest constricted. “You were one of the people who…?”
The other woman swallowed. “It’s strange. I can remember everything, but it’s like it was all a dream. Not a constant awareness, but looking back, I know when I was under its control and when I wasn’t. But it all seemed like the same state at the time. I didn’t question my actions then, but doing those same things now would make me sick.”
“I’ve been through a good deal of that myself. These aren’t situations we can expect to get over with a moment’s notice, but we can rebuild by working together.”
Trisha took a shaky breath and then nodded. “Yes, you’re right. And that’s why we asked you here.”
Ellen smiled in an attempt to set her at ease. “In all fairness, I sort of invited myself along.”
The other woman chuckled. “You know, come to think of it, I guess we never did officially invite you.”
“The long and short of it is, we’re neighbors and we should try to get along better than we have in the past. I wanted to come here to begin a new friendship that can carry our nations into the future.”
Trisha perked up. “We haven’t taken a formal vote or anything, but based on what I’ve seen, I think that sentiment is shared by most of those here on Mysar.”
“Good. Let’s dive in.”
CHAPTER 5
Missions on the Raven had started to run together for Kira. The same quarters, the same people, often a similar objective. She didn’t mind the repetition, but it made it difficult to remember the timing of specific experiences.
At least, that was how it had always been. As Kira wandered toward the Raven’s galley for an early lunch while the rest of her team napped, she was struck with a barrage of memories.
A salient recollection of her second mission with her team came to the forefront—a rather mundane experience in the context of her Guard career, but a pivotal time in the friendship between the four members of the team. Ari had spliced together different words spoken during the op to form phrases he found hilarious. Kira had no idea at the time that it was a preview of things to come.
Wow, I haven’t thought about that in years. She shook her head.
Kira paused three meters from the galley’s entry.
Jasmine hesitated—only a split second, but that was an eternity for an AI.
It was Kira’s turn to hesitate.
Jasmine smiled in her mind.
Kira smirked.
Sven, the ship’s support systems engineer, was the only occupant. Seated in the center of the table, his empty plate and half-filled glass indicated that he was at the tail end of his own meal.
“Hello, ma’am,” Sven greeted with a bob of his head when he noticed her approaching.
“Please, ‘Kira’ is just fine while we’re out here in the black,” she replied. Despite knowing each other for years, they went through the same dance at the start of each mission.
He smiled. “How have you been, Kira?”
“That, my friend, is a very loaded question.” She collapsed into a chair across the table from him.
“I suspected things might not be going your way when you weren’t on the most recent mission to Valta.”
“It’s been an intense couple of weeks.”
“Anything you care to share?” Sven asked.
Kira chose her words carefully. “I’ve had some recent upgrades,” she replied to Sven. The statement served her recent procedure in the medpod, so it seemed like a safe bet.
“Those can take getting used to.”
“These are a doozy, for sure.” Kira glanced at the galley. “I need some food.”
“We just stocked up on everything, so you have your pick,” Sven told her.
“Hmm.” Kira wandered over to the cabinets and began perusing the selection. After checking in a couple places, she came across a packet of instant macaroni and cheese. She snatched it up. “Comfort food it is.”
Sven eyed her from the table. “I take it the upgrades haven’t been a smooth transition?”
“Kira, we’ve known each other for years. This ship isn’t very big. We heard your team talking.”
“Is it really the nanites from the MTech lab?” Sven’s brown eyes were wide with wonder.
“I can’t get into the details, but suffice it to say there isn’t anyone else quite like me.”
He shook his head. “It’s crazy to think about.”
“You’re tellin’ me.” With a sigh, Kira grabbed her bowl of cheesy pasta off the counter. It had finished hydrating and now looked indistinguishable from the fresh version her mom had made for her as a kid back home. Gotta love modern science.
“What else was MTech researching, you think?” Sven mused.
Kira sat down across from him. “I’d rather not know.”
He placed his elbows on the tabletop and leaned forward. “Not even a little bit curious?”
“The
y had a handful of tech that was more advanced than it should be, given their overall capabilities. Questions about how they gained access to those developments lead down wormholes I’d rather not travel.” Kira took a forkful of her meal and blew on it.
Jasmine tsked.
The comment caught Kira by surprise.
Thinking about the issues with how the nanites interfaced with her, Kira had wondered the same thing. Monica herself didn’t seem to fully understand the technology, so her research could only take it so far. They had succeeded in making Kira a functional Robus, but she was far from perfect in that form. True masters of the technology would have been able to adapt it by the time she came into the picture. MTech had had years to study subjects. That meant that the Trols had done the best they could, and it still wasn’t good enough.
Kira didn’t like the implications of that realization.
Jasmine gave a mental shrug.
Kira frowned.
“You okay?” Sven asked.
“Yes, sorry,” Kira returned to the world around her. “I suddenly understand that faraway look people with AIs sometimes get in the middle of a conversation.”
Sven laughed. “Yeah, that can happen. Just don’t forget to turn off any valves.”
She raised a questioning eyebrow and continued eating her macaroni.
“This guy, Kevin, who I worked with some years back became friends with our ship’s AI,” the engineer explained. “The two of them used to get into arguments over the comms—probably two of the most stubborn individuals I’ve ever met. Sometimes, they’d go at it over their direct communication chip link instead. On this one particular occasion, we were doing maintenance on some systems, which involved topping off the various gases.”
Kira swallowed a particularly large mouthful. “Uh oh.”
“Yeah, you can see where this is going.” Sven smiled. “So, we’re working away, and I looked over and notice that Kevin has that blank look he would get whenever talking with the AI. His face is beet red, so I can tell they’re really in the heat of it. I go about my work, since I knew by then that I’d get an earful if I tried to interrupt their discussion.
“Several minutes go by, and by this point it’s kinda like, ‘Hash this out on your own time’, ya know? So, I give Kevin one of those ‘get-back-to-work’ looks. When he doesn’t react, I walk over to say it to his face. I get out ‘Hey!’ before I realize my voice is two octaves higher. Foking idiot opened the helium valve and never closed it!”
Kira laughed. “I bet that got his attention.”
“Yeah, get this.” A grin split Sven’s face. “He yells ‘Oh, shite!’ in this chipmunk voice and shuts off the valve. The ship’s AI comes over the comm to yell at him for being reckless, and Kevin replies, ‘I can’t have a dignified discussion like this!’ That became my crew’s favorite catchphrase—while doing an impression, of course.”
“Wow.” Kira thought for a moment. “Is it pretty easy to do something like that with helium?”
“Fairly. Why?” Sven tilted his head.
“Curious about what happens behind the scenes in these ships, that’s all.”
Sven nodded. “Very true. That’s why I have my writing.”
“Creative outlets are a great way to stay sane.”
“Well, writing can drive you a bit mad, sometimes,” he countered. “I mean, we’re literally writing down the conversations we have with voices in our heads.”
Kira frowned. “That does sound a little off, when you put it that way.”
“As long as we don’t mutter too loudly to ourselves in public places, no one seems to mind.”
“There is that.” Kira glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost time for her team’s workout. She grabbed her empty bowl and rose from the table. “Well, Sven, it’s been great, but I need to get back to it.”
He nodded and stood up across the table. “I should probably check in on everything, too.” He paused. “And, if you ever do need access to some, uh, ‘malfunctioning’ helium tanks, let me know.”
Kira grinned. “I’ll do that.”
— — —
Work in Leon’s lab was starting to feel routine. While Tess and Jack were busy with their own tasks, Leon finished his review of the latest automated test results that had been kicked over to him for review.
To his relief, the scans didn’t contain anything that resembled the TRs they’d observed in others. “I’m glad there’s nothing to worry about in these, but I wonder why the system is flagging so many?” he said to no one in particular.
Tess looked up from her desk across the lab. “Do you see any common factor between them?”
“Nothing that’s jumping out at me,” he replied. He’d been over the likely candidate criteria—age, aptitudes, genetic markers—but he was able to find an exception to each of the potential causes for the anomaly.
“Maybe it is just a genuine, random error, then,” Tess said with a shrug.
“Perhaps.” Leon didn’t like that non-explanation, but he had nothing else to go on at the present.
With his task list of semi-critical items clear, Leon decided to run an updated sequence on Kira’s nanites. The model would make a good baseline for how she was responding to the new pairing with Jasmine. He hoped her next check-in would show reduced stress levels, compared to where they’d been the past week. Maybe Jack would even be able to glean something about the nanites’ transformation triggers, like Tess had suggested.
He took a blood sample from the suspension case they used for preservation and entered it into their commandeered sequencer for analysis. It was still unclear if MTech would demand the equipment be returned to them, but Leon suspected that no one who cared was still working at the company. A lot of people connected with MTech and the Mysaran government would be getting a fresh start, and with that staff turnover came the opportunity for convenient appropriations.
Their loss is the Gu
ard’s gain. After what he’d gone through in the lab—being misled, getting shot at, and having his girlfriend turned into a science experiment—he considered a few pieces of equipment to be a modest severance package.
Leon was just finishing up his configurations of the sequencer when an alert popped up on his desktop. It was a call from Mysar.
Either MTech is demanding their equipment back, or an old friend is reaching out, he figured.
While he didn’t have too many friends left on Mysar, he’d spent enough time on the planet in grad school to establish lasting relationships. Any number of people may have heard by now that he’d been connected to the MTech lab on Valta, and a ‘Hey, glad you didn’t die!’ message wouldn’t be out of place.
He activated the sequencer and then directed the call to a private room across the hall, which was equipped for that very purpose. Large enough to hold two people, the room consisted of two chairs, a small table, and a viewscreen mounted to the wall.
Leon initiated the call as soon as he was inside. To his surprise, he saw his sister’s face staring back at him. “Ellen? What are you doing on Mysar again?”
“Good to see you, too, Leon,” she replied with a curl to her lips. “I’m here for business.”
“Stars, not again…”
“Official business this time,” she emphasized.
“And what does that entail?”
She smiled. “Helping put the pieces back together.”
According to her recent track record, she’s a whole lot better at making things fall apart. Leon decided it was best to keep that overly antagonistic comment to himself. “I hope it goes smoothly for you,” he offered instead.
“It’s off to a pretty good start.”
Leon thought for a moment. “Say, since you’re there, would you check in on the testing they’re doing for those telepathic receptors? Some people are getting flagged here, and we’re not sure why. I’m clearing everyone on a case-by-case basis, but it would be much easier for someone to slip through the cracks in a civilian population.”