Tempest Rising

by Eric Warren

  “Hey, ‘bot, you need to check those!” Wallace said again as Box passed. Box continued forward, ignoring the human. What could he do, he was small and squishy while Box was—at the moment—able to crush a human’s skull with one hand.

  “Box, you have to listen to him,” Cas said, already sounding tired again.

  “Do I? Do I really?” He stopped in place, debating on how far he could push it. They just wanted to inspect the crates because he was carrying them. If Cas had been hauling them they would have let him pass right by.

  Wallace jogged up behind him. “Open those containers,” he ordered.

  Box regarded him; a small, wiry human, not even one and a half meters tall. He had the look of someone who needed to jog a lot in order to stay healthy. Sweat coated on his forehead, despite the temperature in the corridor being quite comfortable according to human standards.

  Box set the containers down, stepping back. “You want to know what is in them so bad, you open them.”

  Wallace turned to Cas. “What is your bot’s problem? Is it malfunctioning?”

  “It doesn’t have a problem,” Box said before Cas could open his mouth. “It doesn’t appreciate being called it by a small-minded, weak little man.”

  Wallace backed up a step, the manifest device in his hand slipping from his grip and clanging to the floor.

  “Box, come on,” Cas said. He walked over to the junior officer. “He’s not like other machines. And he’s not programmed to follow orders.”

  “That—that doesn’t matter,” Wallace stammered. “I still need to scan the manifest. Yours too.”

  “We were on this ship not more than a week ago. It’s all the same stuff!” Box exclaimed. “If I wanted to bring something aboard that would threaten this ship, do you think I’d be stupid enough to hide it in the containers I’m carrying? No, I’d hide it right here.” He pointed to his crotch area, where he had a small compartment for spare parts, though he rarely used it. The look on Wallace’s face told him his message had gotten across.

  Cas groaned. If Box could have smiled, he would have.

  “Caspian?” Cas’s comm chirped.

  He tapped the device on his arm. “Here.”

  “Are you on board yet?” It was Evie. “The captain wants a debrief. We’re set to launch in twelve hours.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.” Cas dropped the rest of his gear, turning off the comm. “Can you get all of this to our quarters?”

  Box made a noise deep in his processor indicating his displeasure. “Yes.”

  Cas pointed at Wallace but kept his eyes on Box. “And cooperate with this man. Don’t make things here harder than they already are. Let me know as soon as you’ve got everything set up.”

  Box raised his hand to the brim of his head. “Yes, sir!” he said in a mocking tone. Cas rolled his eyes and left them standing there, making his way down the corridor to the closest hypervator.

  Box moved to pick up the containers.

  “I-I still need to scan those,” Wallace said, having retrieved his manifest.

  Box stepped back. “Be my guest.” Wallace used his manifest—which doubled as a scanner—to retrieve a list of everything in the containers. It wouldn’t take him long, but it was longer than Box was willing to wait. “You have drones on this ship, right? Auto-drones?”

  Wallace glanced at him. “Yes, we use them for the dangerous—”

  “Great. When you’re done have them deliver all these to my quarters. I have an important meeting to get to.”

  “But we don’t use them for—” Wallace protested.

  “And make sure they don’t break anything,” Box cut him off. “I know some of those autos can be clumsy. I have valuable things in here.”

  “I’ll be done in just a moment, then you can—”

  “Thanks. And keep up the good work.” Box walked off and shot Wallace a quick wave as he made his way through the ship.

  “Hey. Hey!” Wallace called but Box paid him no attention. He wanted to know what was in those crates so badly he could deal with them. Though he better not mess up Box’s media collection. He’d been back to visit the shop on the promenade a couple more times, each time with his database purged and ready for more uploads. This place was so much better than the Sargan Commonwealth. People weren’t trying to kill each other and media was readily available. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could watch Gleeph Station Party 7 before ripping his own optics from his eyes.

  Box stopped at the end of the corridor and turned left. Did he want to head down to the shuttle bays? It was where he and Cas had kept their ship before Cas had single-handedly decided to destroy it. That had been his home too, and Box would have at least liked to have been consulted before losing his only place of residence.

  He turned to the right. That led to some maintenance areas as well as the entertainment level where they kept the ship’s library. It seemed like an easy choice. Just as he turned right someone called out behind him, “Excuse me,” a male voice said.

  Box turned, expecting to see Wallace running up behind him to complain but instead it was Lieutenant Ronde, the helmsman. What was he doing down here?

  “You’re the robot, Box, right?” he asked, a smile plastered on his face.

  “Yes,” Box replied. He hadn’t had a chance to meet the lieutenant as the only time he’d seen him was when he was on the bridge, helping clean up the mess from the battle with the Sargans.

  “Sorry, I never got to introduce myself,” he said, holding out his hand. “Lieutenant Izak Ronde.”

  “I know.” Box took the hand and shook it. Technically Ronde was a Lieutenant, Junior Grade. But regardless of his rank, it was rare for a human to give him any kind of acknowledgment, much less offer to shake his hand. Box had always thought that was something they kept to themselves. “Your service record and your piloting skills are impressive for a human.”

  “I hear you’re not a bad pilot yourself,” Izak said.

  “I am a better pilot than most humans, but I sometimes lack the nuance required in high-stress situations. It can lead me to make mistakes where a human might have an intuition about a situation and be able to avoid it.” He wasn’t used to being confronted, much less engaged, by humans and felt uncomfortable. Off his game.

  “Oh yeah? That’s kind of interesting. Hey, I was wondering if I could get your help with something. I saw you’d just come on board and if you’re not doing anything else…”

  Box had to mentally take a step back. A human wanted his help? When in the time of Kor had this ever happened? Other than Cas barking orders or Evie telling him to come save Cas, Box couldn’t recall a time when he’d been asked for help where it hadn’t been ordered. And Lieutenant Ronde was even giving him the option. If you’re not busy.

  He should say he’s busy. What would it be like to be able to say, “Sorry, I have something else I have to do right now. But I’ll catch up with you later.”? His processors drew out the moment, weighing the decision. But in the end, his curiosity was too great.

  “I can help. What do you need?”

  “Here, come with me. It’s down in the cargo bays,” Izak said.

  “The cargo bays? Do you need me to lift something because if that’s—”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. We need help identifying some material that the ship’s computer can’t pinpoint. I was thinking with your wide array of experience you’d be able to figure it out.”

  Box couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and he may have pushed his metal chest out in front of him a little more. “I’d be happy to,” he said.

  Izak led him down the corridor to the hypervator. “So, let me ask you a question, and this has been bugging me.”

  “Okay,” Box replied.

  “If I were to tell you I was lying, would you believe me?”

  Box stopped and turned to him, stunned. “What?”

  “I said, if I were to say to you, I am lying, would you believe me?”


  Smarmy human bastard. He should have known. “I just remembered, I have something else I need to take care of.”

  Izak turned to him, tightening his posture. “What? What did I say?”

  “Your meaning is clear, Lieutenant. You think I’m some simple program that can be tricked with a logic test.”

  “Wait, that’s not—”

  “What,” Box interrupted. “Did you think you’d be able to make me overload or shutdown if I couldn’t figure out a way of your silly little riddle?” He leaned over Izak. “Let me tell you, I’ve calculated more variables of the universe than your tiny mind can even comprehend, so don’t treat me like I’m some simple machine. Otherwise I’ll make you sorry the thought even entered your brain when I drill inside and pluck it from your tiny, human skull.”

  Izak scoffed, his demeanor changing. “You won’t do anything to me. You’re a machine, programmed not to harm humans.”

  Box slammed his fist into the wall behind Izak’s head, centimeters from his ear. Izak ducked down, covering his face. “I’m also programmed not to take any bullshit. So don’t test me. Go identify that material yourself. And be glad I’m in a charitable mood.” He left Izak cowering, not turning back to see if he would say anything else. Frankly, Box didn’t care if he screamed himself hoarse. He should have known it was a trick. And then for him to try and get Box stuck in a logic loop? What a dickhead.

  Box headed back down toward the library like he should have done in the first place; his rage at Izak stewing in the back of his mind.

  10

  Was it just him or were the corridors on Eight brighter than the ones on the ship? They were standard Coalition architecture, all gray and white with rounded edges and soothing forms but for some reason things seemed brighter over here. Cas wasn’t sure what it was, but it had distracted him long enough to get to Admiral Sanghvi’s office. He pressed the small button beside the door.

  “Enter,” the admiral’s voice said through the speaker embedded in the wall. The doors slid open to reveal the same room he’d been in only a few days before, watching his future slip away from him. “Mr. Robeaux.” Admiral Sanghvi stood and stuck out his hand, taking Cas’s with some force. Sanghvi was a large man, and very strong. He looked like the kind of man who could pick up a flag on a battlefield and lead troops into battle. He’d never taken the time to research Sanghvi’s service record, but it was a good bet there was come combat in there somewhere. “I understand you had a run-in with some of the crew of the Persephone.”

  Cas took a seat and scoffed. “Word of my pardon didn’t spread very fast.”

  Sanghvi ignored the jab if he’d even caught it at all, which Cas bet he had. “That was by design. I’m sorry but I didn’t want the media nets to catch wind of it, not when we’re about to ship you off on another mission. And frankly, I’d like to keep it that way. The less people know you’re back in Coalition space the better. For the time being.”

  “Then you better get a hold of those three guys who jumped me; they heard the news from somewhere and I bet they can’t wait to tell their friends about the traitor they beat up.”

  “It’s already been taken care of,” Sanghvi said, making a dismissive wave with his hand. Cas was nonplussed. “You look like you’re not used to people standing up for you.”

  “Can you blame me? After what Rutledge did?”

  Sanghvi tapped a few panels on his desk. “I see you paid him a visit as well.”

  “I needed to know what kind of hornet’s nest I was about to get myself into. Sir, I don’t know how many times I can say this, but this is a suicide mission. Even if we manage not to die out there contacting the Sil. They will either wait for the threat to destroy us and deal with it on their own, or they’ll send an invasion force into Coalition space and occupy the territory. But more than likely, they’ll take one look at Tempest and blow it out of the sky.”

  Sanghvi regarded him a moment. “I appreciate your candor, but we are low on choices at the moment. And it is your job to make sure none of those things happens. We want the Sil to join forces with us, not conquer us and not wait for us to be annihilated. And I know it’s a lot to ask, but my hope is the compassion you showed them—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Cas said. “I know the reasons. I don’t agree with them.”

  Sanghvi leaned forward. “Does that mean you’re rejecting the mission?”

  Cas pursed his lips, working his jaw. “And if I did? You’d make me go anyway. I’m not stupid, I know I don’t have a choice here. But at least you’re being courteous enough to give me the illusion of choice. It’s what the Coalition is best at.”

  “I’m sorry your time in the Coalition wasn’t what you expected. But we can’t allow assets to go unused, and right now, you are an asset. The moment you start to become a liability again I’ll be happy to send you off into the sunset.”

  Cas wasn’t sure if he meant letting him go or killing him. But he didn’t want to press to find out.

  Sanghvi sat back in his chair again. “The reason I asked you here is I wanted to offer to reinstate your commission. Back to your original rank. I’d need you to pass a competency test, but none of the other requirements. Your rank was unfairly stripped from you and I’d like to right that wrong.”

  Cas dropped his gaze, staring at the floor a moment. He hadn’t expected this, but on some level he’d known it was coming. Hadn’t this been what he’d wanted ever since he’d been thrown in that prison seven years ago? Wasn’t this the retribution he’d been seeking? And it would probably make life on the Tempest more bearable. The rest of the crew would have to be much more careful insulting him and he’d be able to shut down anything he didn’t like with a simple order.

  “Thank you, admiral, but I have to decline.”

  Sanghvi arched an eyebrow but otherwise remained still as stone.

  “I’m not sure you’d understand, sir. But that rank, this job, everything I left behind, that was a different person. That person believed in the purity of the Coalition. And that person died in prison. The one who sits before you today isn’t the same man. And he didn’t earn that rank.”

  “I see,” Sanghvi said softly.

  “But I appreciate the offer.” Cas stood, flattening the front of his shirt as he did. “If there’s nothing else?”

  “I’ve been getting reports your robot is out of control over on Tempest. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to take it with you. Perhaps just leave it on the station, I can have some techs take a look and fix any kind of malfunction it might be experiencing.”

  “Um.” Cas couldn’t say he was surprised. He’d left Box over there alone and without a chaperone. Last time it had been different because Box could stay on their ship and keep himself occupied and out of the way. But now it was like he’d been untethered. Cas wasn’t sure if it was all part of this identity crisis Box had been talking about or if it was his usual nature and this was what he did when he was bored. “What kind of reports?”

  “It’s threatened some of the crew with physical violence, and I have to tell you, that doesn’t instill a lot of confidence in me. One hit and that thing could kill a person. All it takes is a minor malfunction.” Sanghvi spread his arms out so his fists rested in the middle of the table.

  I could say the same thing about humans. “I’ll take care of it, sir. He’s just bored.”

  “Where did you find it anyway? I’ve never seen another machine quite like it,” the admiral asked.

  “I…uh found him after I reached Sargan space. After the…parole incident,” Cas lied. Sanghvi didn’t need to know Box’s origins, and Cas wasn’t about to spill them. “I spent a couple of years tinkering with him, making him better, more efficient.” And more alive, but that was a complete accident.

  “Before you leave, I want it evaluated. Have Commander Diazal administer the tests. I’ll need her to sign off on its condition before you depart.”

  Cas sighed, staring at the space next to the admiral’s ear, unable
to look him in the eye. Box didn’t need an evaluation, he needed a job; something to keep him occupied. But he certainly wasn’t about to leave him on Starbase Eight unattended. More than likely he’d come back (if they came back at all) to a crate full of spare parts and a “Sorry, we tried.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Cas said, the sliding doors opening for him.

  “See that you do. And good luck.”

  ***

  “You have to be kidding me,” Cas said, stepping into the room. Though stepping was a generous term, squeezing would be more accurate.

  “Not kidding.” Box stood in the corner, his display projected against the wall less than a meter in front of him showing a new net drama. “What’s wrong, different from the size you ordered?”

  Cas took the room in. It couldn’t be more than three meters square in any direction. The crates he’d left with Box stood stacked beside the door, shoved against the wall. A small bed occupied most of the room, but there was no way it could fit a human adult, much less provide any kind of comfort. “There has to be a mistake. I’ll talk to Evie, or the requisitions officer. They can’t honestly expect us to both stay in this room. It’s a quarter of the size of my quarters on the Reasonable Excuse!”

  “Some of us didn’t even have quarters,” Box mumbled.

  “Where is the lavatory? Or the kitchen? Or the windows! It’s like someone took a closet and shoved a bed in here.”

  “According to the ship schematics this was a storage unit. Up until about a day ago when the updated plans for the ship were released. You know they performed some updates, right?” Box asked, absently watching his program.

  “Yeah, I saw the work on the bridge,” Cas replied. “But are they really so hard up for space they had to put us in here?” He tried squeezing around the crates to the bed.

  Box raised and lowered his shoulders, not breaking his attention span. “Not my problem, I’m perfectly comfortable over here.”