by Scott Baron
Bursts of foreign tongues were clear as the spoken word. Machine language made sense deep in her bones. She felt as if her mind would explode from the strain, and she didn’t know if she could take much more of it. Daisy’s mind had been a slow-filling vessel her entire life, absorbing more and more data every second of her existence, but now she saw the past, and strained to see the future, and at that moment, she felt her sanity on the edge.
No more!
Somehow, she forced her mind to stop, and miraculously, the information deluge ceased.
Daisy rolled to the side of her bed and threw up a thin stream of half-digested cocoa.
At least I missed my shoes, she thought grimly, amused that she had not only avoided going mad, but had also retained her sense of humor.
Slowly, her body aching as if she’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champion, she sat up and pulled the band from her sweaty brow. Her head throbbed, but the endless expanse of unrelenting data was gone. She looked at the clock on the wall.
2:30 a.m.
She had been under for just thirteen minutes.
Daisy swung to her feet and stood, wobbling unsteadily in her quarters. The pounding in her head was growing. Intense. Like she’d had her skull pried open by a number four cranial lavage kit, though how she even knew what that was remained a mystery.
A wave of pain sent her to her knees.
Shit, shit, shit. What did I do to myself? I need Vince.
Ignoring her shoes, Daisy staggered to her double door and managed to key the mechanism despite her mildly doubled vision. In the passageway, she kept one hand on the wall for balance as she slowly stumbled toward Vince’s quarters.
He’s probably still up watching a movie. God, he’s going to be so pissed.
Voices rumbled through the ship, distracting her from her path.
What? Who’s that chattering?
She followed the sound until she was standing outside a thick set of doors.
How did I wind up at Command? she wondered, then cycled the doors open. Gustavo sat alone in his chair, a pair of dense data cables protruding from the back of his head as he monitored the ship and the space around it.
“Oh shit, I didn’t hear you come in!” He said, jolting at the sight of Daisy.
He popped the cables from his head, the static-filled noise filling the pod.
“Sorry, my bad,” he said, reaching for the volume controls.
“No, wait a second,” Daisy said. “What are they saying?” The words were strange, but almost made sense. She noticed Gus looking at her strangely.
“What?”
“That’s solar radio chatter, Daisy. It’s not people. Just noise blasting past us as we get closer to Earth. It’s kind of soothing, so I sometimes listen to it when the captain’s not around.”
“Oh. I guess I must’ve been hearing things.”
“You okay?” he asked, concern showing in his lone human eye.
“Yeah, just slept really poorly and wanted to get some air. Thought a walk might help. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Night, Gus.”
“Good night, Daisy. Hope you sleep better.”
She exited Command and started back toward her quarters.
Oh man, what did I do? Am I having a schizoid embolism or something?
As she walked, her body slowly began to feel more and more her own, and the persistent fogginess began to lift, but as it faded, it was replaced with something just as upsetting.
A creeping paranoia.
Great, now I’m freaking out over, over what? I don’t even know. Come on Daisy, pull it together. You’re okay. Everything is fine. At least I think it is, so long as I don’t suddenly start telling myself to get my ass to Mars.
She neared Vincent’s door, but a strange thing happened, though given the events of the past hour, it was probably one of the least strange things of the evening. As Daisy put her mind to it, she felt a surge of excitement as she realized she had retained an understanding of Sarah’s work.
She passed right by Vince’s pod and hurried down the passageway back to her quarters, clinging to the nascent clarity, afraid the flash of understanding might abandon her at any moment.
A few minutes later she was comfortably propped up on her bunk, scrolling through the reams of data stored in both Sarah’s tablet and portable scanner. The information made sense, and it corroborated between both devices. Validation from two separate non-AI units. Daisy began jotting down notes as fast as she was able. Sleep was no longer a concern, only finishing her analysis before the knowledge she had acquired so recently could slip from her grasp.
Data confirms it. Given the parts per million of oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide, taking into consideration the pressure fluctuations between individual pods, levels, and even the Narrows, we most definitely have a slow leak somewhere on board. Likely the main deck by the look of things.
She sat up and cracked her neck. Hours had passed hunched over the readouts and notes, but she had finally put it all together. A smile spread across her face.
Okay, then. So, based on the amount of oxygen still in the ship, and compensating for off-gassing from Tamara’s plant life, taking those factors combined with the slow leak we still haven’t found and the remaining eight crewmembers consuming oxygen given their individual biological mass, minus that of their inorganic components, it looks like we should have enough to make it to Earth orbit without significant issues.
She paused, mid-thought, and stared in shock at the numbers on her screen. A realization hit her solidly in the gut.
“This can’t be right,” she gasped in disbelief. “No way. No fucking way.”
She checked and re-checked her data, re-ran her calculations, then did it again, but the results were the same. Based on the physiological profiles of the men and women on board and the percentages of their bodies that were mechanical, a very specific rate of oxygen consumption was a known fact. The calculations she stared at were correct, only something was wrong.
“There’s too much oxygen for this crew,” she realized with horror. “Someone’s not using enough oxygen. Someone besides Barry is a cyborg.”
Chapter Thirteen
Daisy walked down the passageway toward the galley in a daze, which was really saying something, given she had a full load of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She hadn’t slept a wink that night, and after her revelation, she wondered if she ever would again.
Another cyborg.
There was no way Mal wasn’t aware. Something that big couldn’t slip by her, and prior to the accident knocking systems offline, the powerful AI continuously monitored vital signs of the entire crew. And Barry? It seemed only logical that he would recognize one of his own kind.
That meant the two AIs were hiding the existence of another artificial person from the rest of the crew, and that put Daisy dangerously on edge.
“Are you all right, Daisy? I sense an elevated blood pressure,” Mal commented, as if reading her thoughts. Daisy jumped in surprise but quickly composed herself.
“I’m fine, Mal, just still stressed out with what happened to Sarah,” Daisy replied to the disembodied voice.
And if you knew Sarah was on to you, was that really an accident? The possibilities whipping around in her mind were horrifying.
“Perhaps you should talk to Doctor McClain, Daisy. She is a skilled psychologist and is very good at her job.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I can schedule a session for you, if you wish.”
“No, thanks. I’ll handle that myself if I feel I need it, but thank you, Mal.”
That’s right. Act normal, and keep on her good side until you know what’s up.
Daisy reached her destination and cycled open the galley’s double doors, only to be greeted by the unexpected, yet welcome, smell of fresh brownies wafting in the air.
Oh yeah, I promised Gus I’d wrangle him up some brownies. Good old Finn. At least I’ve got one more definite human on my
side.
“Hey, Daze,” Finn called across the galley. “So, about those brownies. I was saving my secret stash of chocolate chips for a final homecoming treat. You know how Mal can be about repurposing the organics replicator for non-staple food items and all, but when you mentioned baking, well, I thought given the last few days, we could all use a treat right about now, so I kind of made a bigger batch,” he said, offering her a warm brownie from the tray.
Finn’s obviously human. I saw his fingers come off. Down to the bone. I saw him bleed.
“Thanks, Finn,” she replied, her expression carefully neutral-pleasant as she slowly chewed, savoring the chocolate as it melted on her tongue.
Okay, let’s work this through. It’s obviously not me or Vince, and it’s not Finn. But if not him, then who?
She pulled up a seat to think. Think and observe as the others slowly filtered through the galley.
The airlock door cycled a few minutes later as Captain Harkaway stepped into the compartment, his heavy, metal leg impacting slightly harder than his flesh one as he walked.
“Engines at eighty-seven percent optimization, Captain,” the ship’s AI informed him.
“Thank you, Mal. Let me know when they’ve cycled back to the mid-nineties.”
“My pleasure, Captain.”
‘My pleasure’ again? What’s with this computer? She’s been acting weird lately. Using more personal sentence structure. Like she’s trying to be, well, a person. Damn thing is creeping me out.
She watched the captain as he walked toward her. He may have had an older replacement leg, but Daisy had seen his records and had noticed him wiping a bloody nose on several occasions when the ship’s air humidifier had problems a few weeks prior. The dry air gave him nosebleeds for days before they got it back operating at full-efficiency.
Cyborgs don’t get nosebleeds.
Obviously not the captain, she noted. Though I don’t know how much I can trust him yet.
“Thought you’d be here,” he said, approaching her table.
Or maybe Mal told you. She kept the thought to herself.
“How are you holding up, Daisy?” he asked.
“As well as can be expected, Captain.”
“I know it’s tough on you, and if your work weren’t so necessary, I’d just tell you to take a few days to get your head clear. Unfortunately, we don’t have that luxury, and I want you to know I appreciate the effort you’re making.” He paused and sized her up, apparently pleased with what he saw. “So what about the air supply issue and those problematic systems? Any progress?”
“Some, Captain, but I’m concerned. It may be nothing, but as I scan back in the logs, it seems a great many of the ship’s systems have been acting glitchy since we woke up.”
“I’ve noticed that as well, and it worries me that there may be issues unrelated to our initial impact.”
Daisy nodded in agreement.
“Captain, I have to ask you. Have you come across anything unusual in our systems?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I guess, anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small. Something that might help explain why things are buggy?”
“You’re the chief electronics expert now, Daisy. I leave that to you. But since you mention it, the ship does seem to be having more out-of-parameter power fluctuations as we get closer to Earth. Gustavo noticed it as well the other night when he was double-checking our course. You have a theory?”
“I’m not sure. Let me dig a little more, and I’ll be sure to let you know if I find anything.”
“Do. We can’t afford any more problems with the Váli before we reach the moon. We’re too damn close for Murphy to start messing things up for us with his stupid law.”
Harkaway walked over to the kitchen counter and surveyed the still-warm treats.
“Thanks, Finn,” the captain said, grabbing a brownie off the plate and heading back to Command.
Daisy repositioned herself at a table facing the main doors and settled in. She had food, and she had notes and busy-work in front of her, and to anyone observing, that was what was occupying her time. In reality, she was far more interested in the men and women of the crew than the work on the table or the food on her plate.
Shortly after the captain departed, Gustavo and Reggie both made their way to the galley.
“I hear there are brownies in here!”
Gus and Reg swarmed Finn’s workspace.
“Hey, don’t crowd, guys. I made enough for everyone.” Finn slid another steaming batch onto the half-full plate on the counter.
“Oh my God, these are amazing. You’re the man, Finn!” Reggie said through a mouthful of melting chocolate joy.
Metal hand and some artificial organs from what I hear, but with an appetite like that, he’s got to be human. Even a cyborg would have a hard time processing the amount of food that guy puts away.
Daisy tentatively checked Reggie off her mental list and put him in the ‘unlikely’ column. Gustavo, well, she wasn’t so sure about him. The extensive work he’d had done, both internally and externally, made her uneasy. The fact that he had access jacks built into his head, well, that also seemed obviously more machine than human. Still, he was her friend. At least as much as a half-machine man could be, she supposed. It was that damn mechanical eye. It always put her on edge and made her wonder just how much of the real Gustavo was inside that metal-enhanced skull.
Mark Gus as a ‘maybe,’ then.
“Hey, babe!” Vince called out when he walked in twenty minutes later. He grabbed a mug of piping-hot coffee and a few brownies, then sidled over to join her. “How’s my girl?” he asked, leaning in to give her a kiss.
“Doing all right, I suppose,” was her reply. “Still a little foggy-headed, ya know? Trying to get back to firing on all cylinders before we park this heap at Dark Side and hop the shuttle down to Earth.”
“Well, I don’t have to start my shift for another hour. You up for a quick game? Might get the brain going.”
“Sure,” she said, not wanting to leave her table with a view.
“Excellent, I’ll grab the board.”
Twenty minutes later, Doctor McClain finally came for her usual, boring breakfast, eschewing Finn’s baked treats for a bowl of plain oatmeal and a cup of tea.
Way to live up to the stereotype, Doc, Daisy mused as she casually watched the stuffy woman’s actions between her turns on the chessboard. She seemed human, but who was to say? And Tamara? She hadn’t shown up for breakfast at all, and Daisy found herself no closer to knowing who the cyborg was than when she started.
“What are you up to, Daisy?” Vince asked.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. I know you’re plotting something.”
“Wait, I’m not plotting anything, I—”
“Oh, come on! You’re totally sandbagging. Sacrificing your bishop like that? I know you better than that. You’ve got something up your sleeve.”
“Maybe I do.” She forced a laugh. “Tell you what, how about you swing by my quarters in a half hour.”
He flashed a mischievous smile.
“Twist my arm, why don’t ya,” he said.
He was in for a surprise, all right. Daisy just wondered how he’d take the news.
“Are you serious?” Vince asked incredulously as they sat on Daisy’s bed.
“I triple-checked the numbers, Vince. With all variables accounted for, and factoring in oxygen consumption compared to remaining crewmembers and their metabolic needs based on percentage of non-organic parts, I’m sure of it. Even when going back and including the data for the past several months, it all adds up the same. The oxygen usage is just too low. Someone besides Barry isn’t human.”
Lying in his arms, head on his chest, Daisy felt strangely calm given the nature of their conversation. Listening to the slow, rhythmic thumping of his heart always helped soothe her frazzled nerves.
“Have you told the captain?”<
br />
“No, Mal was active in the room. She’s always listening, Vince. Only our quarters and the Narrows are off her monitoring grid. Until I know what’s going on, I want to keep this on the down-low.”
“But he’s the captain.”
“And he’s also the highest-ranking person on board. It’s still possible he’s in on it.”
“You’re getting paranoid. The captain’s a good man. And we know he’s a man, right? I mean, those ridiculous nosebleeds—”
“I remember. Nope, Captain’s off that list. So is Finn. That leaves Gus, Reggie, maybe, Tamara, and Doctor McClain.”
“What about me?” he asked, kissing her forehead.
“You and me are the only ones I’m entirely sure about. And Sarah, of course.” Daisy fell silent.
“Just be careful. If there’s something going on, you want to know all the facts before you do anything rash. There might be a reasonable explanation.”
“I wish you were right.”
Her door chime sounded.
“Shit, hang on!” She stumbled to her feet and cycled the doors open.
“Hello, Daisy. I wanted to discuss the airlock issue that caused Sarah’s demise. Do you have a moment?” Barry inquired. The cyborg was always so damn polite. It was unnerving.
“Hey, Barry!” Vince called out, reclining on the tiny bunk.
“Ah, Vincent. I did not realize you two were occupied. Daisy, we can discuss this at your earliest convenience. Apologies for the intrusion.”
He turned, the door sealing behind him.
“That thing creeps me out.”
“Hey, don’t be so harsh on Barry. He’s a person, Daze, just not the kind you’re used to.”
“He doesn’t breathe, Vince. He doesn’t eat. He’s just a machine covered in flesh. I mean, the others, at least they have their inorganic parts clear for all to see. It’s more honest, I guess. You know what you’re getting. With Barry, it’s an entirely artificial creation. He wasn’t born, he was built, and then, rather than let him simply be a metal-skinned robot, they had to go and slap a layer of flesh and blood over him. Seriously, Vince, they went to such great lengths to make him appear human when, in truth, he’s the least human of all of us.”