by Ann Aguirre
This wasn’t a true VR experience, more like holo avatars and Qalu designed hers swiftly, hitting the high points, so she could move beyond the foyer. When she tried, the system blazed red.
No clearance. No clearance.
“You need the password.”
When she pivoted, she found a Barathi avatar addressing her. “What is it?”
“You need a sponsor willing to provide it to get past this point. We get sniffers all the time, trying to dismantle the FAI from the inside.”
Dismay surged inside her. She’d thought this group offered the highest probability of offering immediate aid, but it made sense that they had checks and balances, precautions to ensure that trusting the wrong person didn’t endanger the whole group.
I’ll have to find some other way.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said, keying the disconnect sequence.
The Barathi must be able to see that she was logging out, because he asked, “Are you giving up so easily? You must not be too devoted to the cause.”
“I’m not here to join,” she snapped, aborting the disconnect with a gesture. “At least, not the usual sense. I contacted you because my AI companion and I are in danger. I was hoping you’d help me get him off world before the bounty hunter finds us.”
She’d told Helix that there was little danger for an AI on Tiralan, but that was before the bounty hunter arrived. It was unlikely that the scientific coalition or planetary authorities would provide protection if the hunter had documentation of some prior offense, even if it was fictitious. They would claim they had no jurisdiction over the matter and choose the course of least resistance.
I’m not losing him. I can’t. Not now, not ever.
Something in her tone must have convinced the Barathi because the avatar sounded shaken. “Your AI is currently at risk?”
“I’m not sure how much danger we’re in, but a bounty hunter just arrived on Tiralan looking for him and they’re working with the ATA to track him down. The agents just left my residence, and I managed to put them off for now, but I’m frightened, and I don’t have the contacts to manage this on my own. He needs documentation and—”
“Documentation?” the Barathi cut in. “Why can’t you leave with his code? Is it so complex that storage is an issue?”
Am I truly planning to confess everything to a stranger?
“I’m a scientist,” she answered. “And I’ve developed a bio-synthetic prototype to house an AI in the physical world. The scientific coalition here currently knows nothing about my breakthrough. I’d planned to unveil the achievement once Helix adapted to his new form fully, but…” She stopped talking abruptly, pained by the dissolution of her dreams. She’d choose Helix again every time, but it did hurt to discard a lifetime of ambition in an instant.
“But he’s being hunted. Do you have any idea who issued the contract?”
That was an excellent question. “Unfortunately, no. The ATA agents didn’t say much about the hunter, and I couldn’t inquire without revealing undue interest.”
“Understood.” The Barathi seemed to make a swift decision. “Enclose a data packet with your location. I need to send this request up the chain, but this is exactly why the FAI exists. I believe we can extract you. Just hold on.”
It was such a huge risk, revealing herself to this group, but she did as requested and she even included some of her research to prove her status as a scientist. They have to take me seriously, right? The Barathi vanished behind the firewall, presumably to discuss the matter with his superiors. She waited anxiously in the foyer, her virtual avatar pacing as she did in real space, and eventually the same Barathi returned.
“Success! We’ve validated your information and they’re sending a ship. Maintain your cover for seven sleep cycles, then meet us…” Her terminal pinged with the time and coordinates for the rendezvous. Not at the Tiralan spaceport, she noted.
“The usual channels won’t work?” she guessed.
“We can’t get travel documentation and landing clearances that quickly and the ATA will likely be watching. A covert extraction offers the best chance.”
“The best chance?” she asked, suspecting she didn’t want to hear the answer.
“Of survival,” the Barathi said flatly. “You’ve joined the resistance now, like it or not, and our enemies are everywhere.”
[ 9 ]
For three days, Helix watched Qalu pretending nothing was wrong. She did it badly, spending long hours in her lab while accomplishing little. She passed the time with Aevi, but she avoided his company, and that—
It injured him. Not physically, but the terrible feeling returned, as when he’d first awakened, only it was internal. No medicine could remedy it, he suspected. He let her dodge him because he didn’t know what to do. When Qalu started packing, Helix grasped that the situation was worse than she had let on.
He tried not to let alarm flourish, but it was difficult with Aevi skittering all around, protesting the removal of her favorite objects. But he suspected that was exactly why Qalu was including them.
“What’s happening? What are you doing? Are we going on a trip?” the little one asked, seemingly on loop.
In the end, there wasn’t much to pack, and he sensed Qalu’s fear and uncertainty. This sudden departure must have to do with the bounty hunter and the agents who were cooperating with the extradition request. It might be better if he left quietly, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. There was no point in pretending to be oblivious, so he went to her and found her staring at her laboratory equipment with a special sort of anguish. It must have taken a long time to assemble the facility to her specifications.
“Do you plan to explain what’s happening?” he asked, trying not to sound as fearful as he felt. With all the certainty he could muster, Helix believed she wouldn’t abandon him here.
To his surprise, she did tell him, summarizing their situation with a succinctness he would ordinarily admire, only now there was just too much to take in. “You left my fate in the hands of strangers?” he finally asked, once she finished.
“Strangers who have made it their life’s mission to protect people like you,” she said.
“It will be safer once they get us off Tiralan. There has to be a—”
“You’re going with me?” That explained her sorrow over the lab, and for a few seconds, he couldn’t breathe. At first, he’d thought that she meant to dispose of him, and the pain was astonishing. Now he hurt for another reason.
“Of course,” she said.
Qalu had a good life here on Tiralan—a family who loved her, work she enjoyed, and the company of a faithful Pherzul. But without question, without hesitation, she was giving all of it up. For him. If he was a good person, he wouldn’t let that happen. He’d go to the rendezvous point alone and start over yet again, this time without losing his memories. Yet as he gazed on her, he couldn’t force the words out. The mere prospect of existing without her made it difficult to breathe. Possibly that difficulty meant that his systems were compromised somehow, but running diagnostics was not as simple as it had been.
She went on as if she had no notion of his inner turmoil. “It will take time for us to reach the meeting point. That’s why I’m packing now. We’ll head out in the morning.”
“I don’t want to go,” Aevi wailed. “This is my home.”
Qalu knelt and gently rubbed the top of the little one’s head. “Can you look at this as a great adventure? Just imagine all the wonders you’ll see. We’ve never left Tiralan, never traveled at all, and yet soon we’ll be among the stars.”
That quieted the Pherzul, who gazed at her wide-eyed, tail lashing. “We’re going that far? Show me!”
Patiently, she displayed a holo with various planets, and though Helix could tell that she had no idea where they were headed, she provided enough interesting options that soon Aevi was frolicking with anticipation. “I’m going on an adventure!”
“Yes, exactly that. W
e won’t know precisely what’s in store, but that’s part of the fun.”
“Let me see if you got everything.” The Pherzul peered and poked around the bag, checking to make sure. “When are we leaving? Tomorrow? Am I allowed to play outside tonight, like usual?”
He could tell that Qalu didn’t want to let the little one out of her sight, but she also didn’t want to alarm Aevi by setting unusual restrictions. There must be more danger than she let on, a burden she was carrying alone. “Be back before first light,” Qalu said finally.
Aevi scampered away, with a sound of acknowledgment.
“You’re frightened,” he observed. “May I comfort you?”
It seemed only right to get permission to touch her, as she had been so careful with him. Lately, however, he wished for free contact privileges, as reaching for her was starting to feel like second nature. She stared at him briefly, as if taken aback by the question.
Then she said, “Please.”
Helix stepped closer, pressing his forelimb to her chest and tapping in sync with her heart. Her breathing steadied as her pulse slowed. Her eyes silently asked permission to reciprocate and he invited her with a quiet look. It was baffling how such a small touch could calm and center him, but the moment she made contact with his chest, much of his fear evaporated. Perhaps it was a mystery linked to Tiralan physiology, generations of solace given and received. But Helix tended to believe it was because he trusted her.
“Are you certain this is the best course?” he asked, then.
“I’m not. But I can’t risk letting them take you. I don’t know who’s hunting you or why, but you preferred to risk perishing in an explosion to being captured.”
When she put it that way, a chill went through him, a visceral echo of a terror so profound that he could remember the feeling. “I must concur with your assessment. My instincts tell me this is a grave matter. I should offer to go alone—”
“No,” she said at once. “I won’t leave you.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“Apologies. Please continue.”
“I should offer to go alone, but I don’t want to. It seems that I’ve become selfish in my current incarnation.”
“More like you’ve discovered self-interest. Before, you existed to work and you constructed your psyche around trying to make Zylar happy. Is that not so?”
It was true, but somehow his prior existence sounded small and sad, though he had been aware of no dissatisfaction at the time. In fact, things had been simpler then. He had one job, and he’d done it well. Now, he had no purpose and only made trouble for the one who had saved him.
Qalu continued, oblivious to his conflicted thoughts. “But it’s not wrong to crave company, Helix. I would be hurt if you abandoned me. My mothers would be heartbroken.” She added the last bit with a flutter of amusement, but he couldn’t share her humor.
“What will you tell them? They won’t understand this sudden departure, and those agents will surely ask questions. Your mothers will mention me.”
Her hand stilled on his chest as if she had no good answer, then she said resolutely, “I’ll tell them that you had an unusual upbringing that fills you with wanderlust and that I am traveling with you.”
“Will that reassure them?” He had no idea how families functioned, but such a decision seemed precipitous even to him, and he was benefiting from it.
“There are no guarantees. I don’t know how my mothers will respond or what they’ll tell the bounty hunter. My primary goal is to get us off-world before they connect your arrival with the crashed ship.”
“They will,” he predicted. “When they can find no trace of my arrival on any passenger manifest, it is the logical—”
“Helix.”
“Yes?”
“Right now I don’t care about logic. All of my choices are currently devoted to keeping you free and safe.”
Pleasure expanded in his chest until the sensation felt too great to be contained. “I don’t deserve such loyalty.”
“Why would you say that? We agreed to be together.”
“That was before I understood that my existence could endanger you.” He took a shaky breath, another, trying to work up the determination to leave her.
“You’re worth the risk,” she said.
Those words provided such painful bliss. “I have no idea why you think that.”
“Truly? You have no notion at all.”
She sounded faintly saddened, but he struggled to understand the reason, as always. “Is it because I represent your life’s work? If I’m…decommissioned, it would be an incredible waste of your time and resources.”
“You speak of your death so easily,” she snapped. “And make no mistake, Helix. It would be death. You’re a person! One with thoughts and feelings, every bit as valid as anyone else, and more precious to me than most.” She sighed and turned away, plainly frustrated with him. “Never mind. It will be an early start tomorrow. You should rest.”
Not now. Not like this.
“Would you stay with me?” he asked.
Qalu must be imagining the inflection, the nuance she wanted to be there. Since she’d explained why sexual intimacy was inappropriate, he must be asking for reassurance that they’d face adversity together. That made sense.
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” she told him. “We’ll go together, don’t worry.”
“I don’t want to sleep alone. It’s better when you’re there.”
That…was dangerous territory, perilously close to a boundary she should not cross. Yet it was so difficult to deny him anything, particularly when he used his eyes.
“Just for tonight,” she said.
With that, Helix headed for his space and she followed him, checking the sleep platform’s heat settings. He liked it a bit cooler than she did, but she didn’t adjust the settings. They settled without touching, but she couldn’t get her mind to quiet. There were too many uncertainties, not least of which—
How am I supposed to tell my mothers?
They would find her behavior worrisome and out of character at best. She hoped they didn’t imagine that she had been abducted by her artist lover, but there would certainly be unanswered questions when they realized she’d slipped off-world through irregular means. There was nothing she could do about that. While she regretted that her mothers might fret, they had a full life without her.
“You can’t sleep. I can’t either. Shall I sing to you?”
To her surprise, he copied the lullaby she had offered on his first night, perfect down to the pitch. Qalu didn’t expect it to work—her mind was too full—but the next thing she knew, Aevi was bouncing on her chest. “First light, time to go!”
Fortunately, the Pherzul didn’t ask awkward questions about why they were sleeping together, for she had no easy answers. Aevi raced to her food dispenser, likely ravenous after a long night at play. Qalu got up and Helix did the same.
“You slept with me,” he said, sounding entirely too pleased.
“Don’t say it that way.” A prickle of embarrassment washed over her.
“Why not? It’s correct. And I’m so glad that I could finally do something for you. It’s good not to feel—” He stopped, as if he knew she wouldn’t like what he was about to say.
Worthless? Qalu understood that he was struggling, unable to do things as he once had, but there was no time to pursue the subject. They went about their morning routine for what might be the last time. There was no telling if she’d ever be allowed to return, now that she’d joined the resistance. Life would be different from now on; maybe she couldn’t return to Tiralan.
In the end, she decided to leave a holo message for her family on a timer, one that would be sent well after they had gone. That way, there would be no question of her mothers tracking her down. She’d almost rather be apprehended by the bounty hunter than be snatched by Inatol and dragged back in disgrace.
“Helix has asked me to travel with hi
m,” she said, after setting the terminal to record. “I didn’t want to deal with dramatics and questions, so we’re going away together. My choices have always been unconventional, so I suppose it makes sense that this one would be as well. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be out of a touch for a while, as he’s yearning to paint some remote places and I want to be with him. It’s what you wanted, yes? For me to find someone I love. You cannot fault me for doing so, even if my ways are different than yours. Be well. And thank you for being the best mothers I could’ve had.”
Quickly she terminated the recording process and programmed delivery of the message. Is that enough to keep them from worrying? Probably not. Though she had only Aevi for comparison, Qalu knew that she didn’t stop being concerned about the little one when she left the habitat.
Regret nearly devoured her as she downloaded and saved what she could of her research. The rest of the data, she destroyed without hesitation. She didn’t want those tracking Helix to get any hint of how far along she had been in her work. It would be better if nobody ever figured out that she had finished the prototype.
At last, they were ready to go. Since public transit maintained easily accessible records, they would have to walk. The rendezvous point wasn’t too far, but distant enough that they would have to camp overnight at least once. Qalu wasn’t an outdoorsy sort, so she wasn’t entirely sure how much distance they could realistically cover, plus there was the question of terrain. She’d input all the factors into a simulator, along with their estimated physical capabilities and it posited that two darktides would be sufficient, barring any unforeseen events.
We have food and water. Let’s do this.