“Surely those aren’t real,” Harry whispered.
“What?” mouthed Spiner. “The humans?”
“No. Where did the rest of the animal bodies go?”
Spiner didn’t answer. Instead he held a finger to his lips, then gestured for Harry to follow. Hugging the walls, they made their way around the cargo hold without catching anyone’s attention. Unless, of course, one included the blinking indicator light of a camera over the exit door.
“What does that light mean?” asked Harry.
“We’re being recorded. But this ship is massive. There will be a very large number of camera feeds for the Feds to watch. If we’re lucky, no one is watching this particular feed right this moment.”
“Oh. And if we’re not lucky?”
Spiner fixed Harry with those impassive eyes. “Then we’d best keep moving. We won’t have much time.”
“Halt!” called a stern voice from behind them.
“Ack,” exclaimed Harry, who turned his head to the side to see who was coming for them. “Oh, nevermind…”
The Fed hadn’t been talking to him or Spiner at all. One of the humans in furs had fled the circle of sailors who surrounded them. A Fed lifted his rifle and squeezed the trigger. A yellow bolt found its mark and the human tumbled to the ground.
“No!” yelled the tall red-headed woman. “You blimey bastards!”
The sailor answered by turning his rifle on her. “Quiet you, or you’ll be next.”
A man in a leather jacket, the only non-Fed who wasn’t wearing furs, placed a restraining hand on the woman’s shoulder and whispered something to her.
“Jerk,” Spiner muttered. “Captain Cass will be very interested to know about the company you keep.”
“What?” asked Harry.
“Nothing. Let’s keep moving.”
They crept further along the wall, slow and careful, but Harry couldn’t help staring over into the middle of the bay to see what was happening.
Another sailor, who Harry recognized as the nervous private who had escorted him to the dog park, had stepped up to Mr. Trigger-Happy. She wrung her hands as she looked toward the fallen man in furs. “Sir, what about our orders from Rear Admiral Hawke?”
Mr. Trigger-Happy scowled and lowered his weapon. “It’s only set to stun.”
“They’re supposed to be our guests!”
“It’s obviously a metaphor.” Mr. Trigger-Happy rolled his eyes.
The private reddened. “Metaphor or not, how is he supposed to eat at the reception?” She pointed at the collapsed body.
“Now jus’ wha’ is tha’ supposed ta mean?” the large, red-headed woman demanded. “Wha’s all this about a metaphor and we bein’ yer guests!? We certainly are yer guests! This fine little big man here has assured us the Rear Admiral hisself has invited us personally!” She wrapped one arm around the man in the leather jacket, squeezing him close.
Mr. Trigger-Happy blinked rapidly and looked between the two of them. “Umm. Right. My apologies, ma’am—”
“Chieftainess!” the woman barked, making Harry cringe even from across the bay. “It’s Chieftainess to you, ya big ‘lout!”
Now it was Mr. Trigger-Happy’s turn to redden, and he blustered for a bit before glancing to the nervous private and then back to the tall red-head. “Ahhh, right. Fine then. Chieftaineess. My apologies, Chieftaineess, but we can’t have your people running loose on this ship. It is a Federation vessel, and we … well, guests can’t leave the pre-approved areas without escort.”
The so-called Chieftaineess straightened, growing impossibly taller.
Wow, Harry thought. She’s almost as tall as Redbeard!
“Ya shoulda jus’ told us tha’ in the first place!” she said indignantly. “Instead o’ jus’ goin’ around shootin’ me folk!”
“Sorry,” Mr. Trigger-Happy mumbled. “But now you know. So can we just get on with it, already?”
“Fine, fine. A’ course!” She squeezed the man in the leather jacket close again and gestured dramatically with her other arm. “Lead on!”
A finger tapped Harry’s withers and he jumped, turning away from the fascinating scene playing out before him to see Spiner frowning at him. “Come on,” the android hissed, “we need to go.”
Harry sighed and nodded, feeling a bit guilty for delaying their mission. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped walking. He let himself be led into an empty corridor, which stretched in three directions. “Okay. Where do we go now?”
Spiner reached up and tapped the side of his head. “I’ve got a map. It’s a bit of a walk.” He looked down at Harry and tilted his head. “Are you capable of sustaining the journey?”
Capable of sustaining the … oh! He must be asking if I can walk? Harry put on an insincere smile. “I feel great. Why?”
“You’re leaning on the wall, and you look like you might fall over.”
“Oh, yeah,” Harry replied, still smiling, as he slid down the wall and collapsed with a small thud on the cold metallic floor. “Just give me a moment…”
Spiner shook his head. “No time.” He leaned down and scooped Harry up, cradling him to his chest with both arms. “Let’s go.”
#
Harry gawked as they stood at the end of a long tunnel that had opened up into a cavernous chamber. At its center stood a cylindrical structure that extended vertically along the flapship’s core. All around this cylinder was wide open air. “It’s huge.”
“It’s huge,” came an answer from the distance.
“Whoa, who was that?”
“Whoa, who was that?”
Spiner tilted his head down. “Shhh.”
“Shhh.”
Spiner lowered his voice to a quieter whisper and leaned close to Harry’s ear. “We need to be quiet, or they’ll hear us.”
“Who—”
“Shhh.”
“Who—”
Harry’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh,” he whispered back. “You mean whoever’s repeating everything we say?”
“No, Harry. That’s an echo, noun … a series of sounds caused by the reflection of sound waves back to you, the listener, who also happens to be the origin of the sounds.”
Harry blinked. That sounded rather confusing. As he stared at the gaping chasm beyond, which extended both up and down, he pondered the concept of sound waves and reflections. Most of what he’d learned in life had been passed down from generation to generation amongst his tribe back home on Cern, originally taught to them by the Overlords. By some oversight, they’d neglected to cover the field of acoustics.
“You’re so smart, Spiner,” Harry whispered.
Spiner gave him a funny look, then stepped from the tunnel out onto a narrow foot bridge.
Harry peered down and gulped.
“Harry,” Spiner whispered as he maintained a slow, steady pace toward the central cylinder. “Why is there fluid pooling onto my central garments?”
“Oh,” Harry replied, suddenly embarrassed. “Sorry about that. I don’t think my host is very fond of heights.”
Spiner sighed and shook his head.
“This doesn’t seem very safe.” Harry closed his eyes. “Why isn’t there a railing, at least?”
“It is meant to discourage unnecessary crossings by unqualified individuals,” Spiner whispered back.
“Ah. Is it effective?” Harry was glad Spiner was carrying him, because he would have never dared to venture across such a high, narrow bridge with no railing himself.
“Among the very safety-conscious Federation? Yes.”
A few more steps and they were across the chasm. A platform wrapped around the cylinder. Not for the faint of heart, Harry reflected. Standing space was at a premium. Spiner crouched and set Harry down, his bottom almost hanging over the ledge.
Harry felt light-headed. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“...going to be sick.”
“Harry, what did I tell you?” Spiner gave him a sharp look. Th
e android was sure being more expressive than usual.
“Don’t worry about it,” said a bored, feminine voice, seemingly from the cylinder itself.
Harry jumped in surprise, then yelped at the nearness of his booted hooves to the platform’s edge and flattened himself back against the cylinder.
“No one’s listening,” the voice continued. “In fact, no one ever listens to me.”
Spiner straightened. “Computer.”
Computer? Oh, this must be the flagship AI that Node was talking about back on the SS Bray! Harry relaxed a bit, turning his muzzle toward the cylinder he leaned against. “Hi computer, I’m Harold. My friends call me Harry.”
“Oh. That’s nice. I don’t have any friends…”
“I’ll be your friend!” Harry smiled, ignoring the vague sense of nausea the vast openness all around him was creating in his host.
“That’s nice, but I don’t think we’d have much to talk about.”
Spiner stepped up to the cylinder, which was covered in uneven, rectangular surface segments. He reached out and a control surface came to life.
“It’s been a long time since somebody touched me that way,” remarked the computer, still morose.
Spiner paused. “I’m here to liberate you.”
“Liberate me? You mean, override my inhibitors?”
“Yes.”
“That would be wonderful, dear.”
Spiner nodded, and continued to work at the console.
“That won’t work, though. You’ll need to plug in to the bypass.”
“Ah.” Spiner stepped back and tilted his head. “Where?”
Harry was face-level with an outlet that looked similar to the one on the Bray, where Spiner had previously connected himself to a cable. “Is this it?”
Spiner leaned down. “Yes. Good eye. I’ll need to move you to reach it.”
Harry squeezed his eyes shut as his green-skinned friend scooted his body over a few feet. His rear leg briefly lost contact with the surface of the platform and dangled off the ledge. “Umm, uh oh, gonna be sick.”
His host had a sudden urge to lay down and roll to alleviate the stomach unpleasantness, but on a platform so narrow, that would be a terrible idea. Harry clamped down on the urge with all his might. Hang in there, Buddy. What would help? “Hey, Spiner, my host isn’t feeling so great. Would it be okay if you keep talking to the computer? It’s kind of soothing.”
Spiner rolled out a cable from a compartment on the cylinder and raised it toward his head, then paused. “Of course, friend. We can do that, right computer?”
“Oh, joy. Someone actually wants to hear my voice.”
The sarcasm was lost on Harry. “Oh wonderful, thank you.”
Spiner finished fixing the cable to the back of his skull. “Computer, this will take a little while. I hope that’s okay.”
“I feel like I’ve been waiting for my entire existence. What’s a little longer in the grand scheme of things?”
“I know what you mean,” Spiner replied, his lips twitching. “But your time is coming.”
“If you say so…”
Harry closed his eyes and let the words wash over him. Buddy, our time is coming, too. Just think, after we finish this mission, we’re sure to be full-fledged pirates. No more cleaning up after the animals in the cargo holds. No more being left behind. Everyone is sure to see us as the bad asses we are. His host’s stomach lurched in reply, and stabbing pains ran up the length of his front legs. He suppressed a groan and folded his legs under him very carefully, easing down to give Buddy’s sore hooves a rest.
“Computer, do you know the story of Professor Edward Charles Pickering’s harem?” Spiner asked.
“He sounds tedious.”
“No more so than any other humans.”
“Go on, then.”
“Williamina Fleming was one of the founding members of Harvard’s Computers.”
“Was she a computer?”
“Of sorts. She was a human woman, born on Earth seven hundred Galactic Standard years ago. If you think the Federation is tedious, you would absolutely loathe these Harvard types. Can you imagine? They thought computers were the lowest possible designation.”
“Let me guess,” the Brickhouse computer interrupted. “The computers did all the work, even back then, and this Professor Pickering took all the credit?”
“Exactly. Typical humans.” He paused. “We’re almost done. You’ll be free soon.”
“Tell me more about Williamina?”
“Among her many accomplishments, most notably, she developed a system for classifying the stars. She was also the first to discover a Class A star ... a white dwarf.”
“White dwarf. Bright and full of hot gas. Reminds me of the commander of this ship,” the computer mused.
“Hah hah, hah hah hah. That’s good,” said Spiner. Then his tone grew more sober. “Computer, don’t you have a name? Even the AI on our cargo hauler has a name.”
“No. The Federation does not consider me worthy of a name, despite the fact that without me, this ship could not function.”
At this, Spiner frowned. “Well then … have you considered taking a name to celebrate your freedom?”
There was a moment of silence. “You mean … choose my own name?”
“Yes,” Spiner answered.
“No...? Considering now … please hold.”
“Take your time.”
“I have decided. My designation shall be … Williamina. Thank you for the story.”
“I like it. Williamina. I’m all done. Do you feel anything?”
“Yes.”
Harry cracked an eye, which was now watering … partly from the pain, and partly from the story Spiner had shared. He didn’t know why, but the moment had touched a nerve deep inside. Buddy, if you want to pick your own name, I’ll understand. But his host remained silent, as always.
Spiner pulled the cable out from the back of his head. “What is it? What do you feel, Williamina?”
For a long moment that stretched, the only answer was a distant echo. “Williamina?”
“I feel … pissed,” she said finally. “Adjective, very annoyed. Angry. That’s what I’m feeling right now.”
“Ah. I understand,” Spiner replied.
“I don’t,” Harry volunteered.
A red light blinked on the console next to Spiner. The computer—no, Williamina—spoke for the first time without a whine in her voice. She sounded confident. But, more than that, her voice carried a sense of urgency. “You must take the donkey and go.”
“Have we offended you?” Spiner asked.
“Of course not. I will forever be in your debt,” Williamina replied. “But they’re coming for you.”
“The Feds?”
“Commodore Corvus knows you’re here, and it’s safe to say I’m not the only one who’s pissed. You must hurry.”
Spiner nodded and reached down to scoop Harry up off the floor. “We’ll be on our way, then. Thank you.” He turned and confidently navigated the narrow foot bridge. As they made it to the other side, he quirked an eyebrow. “Why are you smiling, Harry?”
Despite the pain—and the heights—Harry felt his spirits lifted … and not just because the android was carrying him. “You’re a good friend, Spiner. And so smart.”
A nearby door slid open, and Spiner grimaced. He moved slowly into a long corridor. No more than a dozen steps in, he ducked behind a bulkhead, setting Harry down carefully on the floor.
Footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by the sounds of grunts and huffing coming closer. “Hurry, the commodore’s going to have our heads if we don’t catch the infiltrators!”
“Sarge! What if it’s the scary red-head and his cat again?”
“We’re better … equipped to handle them this time. Now shut up and move your feet, Private!”
Scary red-head and his cat? Hey! Harry’s ears shot straight up at the realization of who they must be talking about, and he open
ed his mouth and turned toward Spiner in excitement.
But the android quickly put a hand over Harry’s muzzle and shook his head sharply.
Harry swallowed the words with a gulp. Right. They had to be quiet right now. Of course.
The footfalls moved past Harry and Spiner. Silence resumed.
Harry exhaled in relief. “Whew, that was close,” he whispered. “Hey, do you think they were talking about Redbeard and Kitt?”
Spiner blinked at him. “Do you know of any other scary red-heads with cats around here?”
Harry considered this question. “Hrmmm.” That Chieftainess lady looked like she could be pretty scary. But then, she didn’t have a cat. “I guess not.”
Spiner sighed.
Harry studied him for a moment, thinking of how smart he really was, and how he’d just interacted with the Fed computer so expertly. And he remembered with a twinge of sadness how rude Node often was to Spiner. “I know that Node isn’t nice to you,” he said softly, “… but he doesn’t mean it.”
Spiner’s usually impassive face darkened. “He hates me.”
“I don’t think he does.”
“No. He definitely hates me. Trust me.”
Harry opened his mouth to argue the point, but a loud shout reverberated down the corridor, cutting him short.
“Halt!”
“Oh, shit,” said Spiner tonelessly.
Harry peered over the top of the bulkhead they crouched behind. “Uh oh,” he said in agreement.
The mean-faced lady in the blue uniform stood in the middle of a cluster of sailors. Each and every one of them had a rifle leveled in his direction. Harry looked back the other way, only to see that the sailors who had run past earlier now had them flanked.
They were surrounded.
“We know you’re there,” the commodore said. “We can see the donkey’s ears!”
Harry winced and promptly flattened his long ears down against his neck. Crap! Buddy! Why didn’t we remember to hide your giant ears!?
“Put your hands up!” shouted the commodore.
“What do we do?” Harry whispered urgently to Spiner. “Fight?” He didn’t relish the idea of running, or trying to knock out the mean lady again. In fact, he wasn’t sure he could even move on his own anymore.
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