Aspirant: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Whittaker, Maxx

  The ache in her heart, in her stomach, is so real. So vivid.

  If only she could turn it off.

  She sighs. It cannot happen. They are meant for something else. Something far more important than the life of one lonely AI met along their journey who will soon be an afterthought.

  Far below, as if attuned to her turmoil, the Shepherd looks upward. She cannot actually see the burning flames of his eyes from this height, but she doesn’t need to. This is her domain, her corner of the universe, and here she is omniscient. And so she knows when her hateful counterpart stares up at her, burning with rage. She is his jailor, his keeper, his tormentor.

  Something about the raw, predatory loathing in the Shepherd’s eyes triggers a memory.

  When Astra was little, nine or ten, she’d lived in the Canadian Rockies with her father. Her mother had died shortly before, and they’d moved just after her passing.

  Her father’s pain had been so raw, so real, too hard for a child to process. To escape, she’d explored. She’d taken her hunting rifle each day and ventured out into the woods or up into cliffs, seeking treasure and valiantly battling invisible foes. Trying to forget her mother’s smile or her voice as she’d sang while cooking, the way her hair had tickled when she’d kissed Astra goodnight.

  One day, far further from home than she had any right to be, a wolf had caught her scent.

  The moment is crystallized in her memory, one that is as real today as the day it’d happened. She’d passed through a thick patch of devil’s club, and was cursing, pulling thorns from her arms and not paying attention. Not until she heard the low growl.

  There it was. As big as life, beautiful yet terrifying. Teeth bared, watching her. She’d dropped her rifle, to her shame, and had peed herself in terror which was somehow worse. But survival instinct had kicked in, as the wolf had loped toward her she’d scrambled up a nearby tree, flying up like a squirrel. She’d always been a good climber.

  Twenty feet up, she’d finally stopped, her body shaking so badly that she was afraid she’d break the thick branch she perched on. Below, the wolf sat watching, long teeth glinting in the sun. Staring in frustration and anger at a meal lost. At prey escaped.

  Long after it had left to find easier game, long after her father’s calls had finally coaxed her from the tree, the memory of its eyes haunted her. Its stare, its perfect predatory intensity. The knowledge that if she’d been a little slower, she’d be dead.

  Exactly how the Shepherd watched her now.

  It had taken weeks for Astra to venture out again, and when she had, she’d–

  Wait.

  No.

  This is wrong.

  Not Astra.

  Not Astra.

  Elise. These are Elise’s memories.

  Astra sways momentarily, confused. Lost inside herself. Almost falls.

  It's getting worse. But why?

  Sam. It must be. She’s never been so intrigued, never taken such risk before. Something about him has torn the walls of her sanctuary apart, let Elise in. Where does she begin and where does her creator end?

  For a moment, she considers slipping away into a different trial. Astra can slide between the layers of this place at will.

  But then again, now the Shepherd can, too.

  Now that she’s broken the rules.

  The only reason he hasn’t found the Aspirants is because he doesn’t know where they are. So he follows Astra as she flees from one trial to another.

  Up her tree.

  Perhaps running isn’t the answer.

  In a flash, Astra knows what she has to do. Knows that she can’t be prey anymore.

  Even if it costs her everything.

  25

  Somewhere Between

  Aspirant #2239

  Timer: 00:11:13

  “Anything?”

  Mika doesn’t turn from where she’s poring over Astra’s bank of computers. “Kind of? Maybe?”

  Leather creaks as I lean forward. Damn, Astra’s chair is comfortable. I can see why she, or whoever designed this room, chose it. “Keep trying. I know you’ll find something.”

  Mika doesn’t answer. I can’t see her face, but I can tell she’s chewing her lip. How did I get to know her so well, so fast? So much better than anyone I’ve ever been with?

  Syl stands at my side, hand on my shoulder. One claw idly scratches at the stubble on my cheek, a familiar and comfortable motion that tells me a lot about her. For someone so controlled, so ready to spring into battle at any moment, her unconscious touch is so disarming.

  I get the feeling she’s the type that has trouble with trust.

  “Among my people, soldiers are only taught what is needed. And most do not seek knowledge beyond the martial.” She hums from deep in her chest, a sound I’m coming to associate with irritation. Or anger. “We were… Pressured, subtly, to remain uninformed.”

  “Pressured?”

  “Keep ‘em ignorant,” Mika says absently. “Docile.”

  “Just so.” Syl rumbles with something like satisfaction. “But some of us chose to better ourselves, anyway.”

  I reach up, run my fingers along the delicate scales of her hand. “I guess humans aren’t the only species that spends a lot of time thinking their leaders are idiots, eh?”

  For some reason, Syl’s idle stroking stills instantly. “No, you are not.”

  I’m about to ask her what’s wrong, what I said, when Mika lets out a noise that I’m not entirely sure is human. “Well, if your point is that you might have an opinion about all this bullshit, I’m open to it.”

  Syl joins her almost too quickly. “What do you view as wrong?”

  They speak in low tones as I watch, drumming my fingers against my leg. I hear snatches of conversation about what different systems might do, or how to isolate the functions of something something, but it’s all Greek to me. I was never great at puzzles as this place has shown me.

  Instead, I lose myself in watching them work. It’s impossible not to stare, at Mika in her little outfit and at Syl in her lack of one. It’s been less than an hour since we untangled from the bed, since the ticking clock spurred us into some kind of motion. At first, we mostly just basked in the afterglow, sitting close on the bed as we purposely avoided anything like serious conversation. Mika filled me in on what the girls had talked about back in the dead city; Syl’s past, her people, the plague that drove them to the stars. It was incredible, like something from a sci-fi novel, and would have been entirely unbelievable if not for the fact that living proof was sitting close enough to kiss when I’d heard it.

  Sitting naked and unashamed with them was like before, with Mika. The Citadel’s the first time I’ve ever been with someone where after things didn’t feel… Different. Where we weren’t worried about cleaning up, or she wasn’t dashing off to the bathroom to fix her hair. The first time she didn’t fall right asleep or seem preoccupied. No, the three of us spent a half an hour doing nothing more complicated than being with each other, body and soul, and I have to admit that it was better than the sex. Which is saying a hell lot, considering I just watched an alien tongue fuck a girl while I buried myself to the hilt in one of her two…

  I cough, maybe a little too loudly, and shift in my seat.

  The girls cast me a puzzled glance over their shoulder, but it’s fleeting. They’re busy figuring out how to save us while I stare at their asses. I can’t help myself, but I still feel kind of useless.

  It wasn’t until the clock hit thirty minutes that we couldn’t hide from what was coming any longer. That we couldn’t mask the fact that all of us were snatching glances at those red numbers that ticked away our futures. When we got up to dress, it was grudging and strangely quiet.

  I didn’t want it to end. I know they didn’t.

  At fifteen minutes and no sign of Astra, we decided that waiting might be a bad idea. We all know what happens when the clock runs out.

  Something about the AI’s last, gentle kiss
feels a lot more chilling now. I don’t doubt that she wanted to come back, but what if she can’t?

  What if that was a goodbye?

  “I’m worried about her.”

  This stops the girls. Their shoulders are tight, bodies almost hunched.

  “Me too,” Mika says.

  Syl holds her hand, grips tight for just a moment before smiling at me. “She is a warrior, like us. I see it her. She will return.”

  Mika glances up at the room timer. “Hopefully soon.”

  “It is always advisable, in the face of adversity, to have alternate methods of accomplishing your mission,” Syl says. She sounds almost mocking, like she’s quoting something wishes she didn’t know.

  “So, a backup plan?”

  “Just so.”

  They go back to work, and I get up, slinging my rifle over my shoulder. I take Inferno from the corner, holding it for Mika in case we need to leave in a hurry. But other than that, there’s nothing for me to do than wait.

  I take a last look around the study. It might be the comfiest room I’ve ever been in. With a little room service, and an actual door leading to a bathroom, I might never want to leave. Especially not with these two keeping me company.

  I spy something on the far wall, almost completely buried under sticky notes. A picture with just the corner peeking out.

  Something pulls me to it. I pull off the pink and yellow confetti of equations, revealing…

  Astra. But not.

  The picture is of a couple, holding hands and smiling in front of a gorgeous waterfall. They’re wearing hiking gear, backpacks and khakis. They look… Happy. He’s older than her, probably mid-forties, athletic and erudite in a way that I always associate with college professors. And Astra, she’s early twenties, maybe a few years younger than she appears to be now. Her arm’s around his waist, squeezing him close as she laughs at something he’s said just before the camera goes off.

  But somehow, I know this isn’t her. There’s something worldly and confident in her expression that Astra lacks. Her face carries all the mileage of someone whose born and lived two decades, someone who's learned about love and anger and pain and joy.

  Astra’s programmer. Her creator.

  Syl’s a goddamn ninja. There’s no other way to explain how she sneaks up on me. “What have you found?”

  “Nothing helpful,” I say, trying and failing not to startle at her touch. I tap the photograph. “At least, not right now.”

  “Astra?”

  “Her programmer. The one whose form she’s taken.” I shrug. “Might explain why she seems so… real.”

  “My people have artificial intelligences as well, but none are so lifelike. She is a marvel.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, how’d you do?”

  “I am not sure I was helpful. Mika is far more intelligent than I.”

  “I think she’s far more intelligent than most of us.”

  Syl’s lip curves. “True. But sometimes a simpler mind can help someone like her order their thoughts. Find patterns.” Her voice is distant, troubled in a way that I haven’t heard before. “I hope I was that for her.”

  “Syl,” I say. Her scaling is tight, dense at my touch. Like she’s expecting attack. “What’s wrong?”

  “All of this, Sam,” she says, eyes darting away. “We are running out of time.”

  “You can’t fool me,” I say, turning her face back to me with a fingertip “I don’t think your people are very good at hiding their emotions.”

  She takes a long time to look up to me. A joke meant to set her at ease dies in my throat at what I see in her eyes. “Sam, what we have… I have never experienced this before. Not with any clan I have been a part of. Not with any mate I’ve taken.”

  “I know the feeling,” I say, hugging her. “But that’s a good thing, right?”

  She’s stiff in my arms, but she returns the hug, almost too tight. “I just do not wish to lose this.” Her breath is quick, fearful at my ear.

  “Syl…” I say, the seed of worry in my chest growing. “Why would you lose us?” I don’t think she’s talking about dying in this place.

  “I have something!” Mika’s voice rings out, startling us both.

  Syl smiles, and there’s something almost sad to it. “Later.”

  I’m about to press her, finally. We’ve gone beyond hiding things. But the timers on the computer screens are a distant halo around her face. They’re an accusation, that I’m wasting time and putting us in danger.

  00:02:41

  I give Syl a last squeeze, putting aside worry. Whatever’s wrong, we’ll face it together. Later. I turn to Mika. “A way out?”

  “Maybe.” She points to one of the panels. “I don’t think Astra needed any of this to control this place. All this is too random, like some kind of mishmash of systems that existed before and stuff she added in.”

  “Makes sense,” I say. “Look at all this. Did she need any of it? The chair? The bed? But if she was trying to feel more human…”

  “Right.” Mika chews her lip. “At any rate, this seems to have some kind of control over the doors we’ve passed through. There’s something here about layer control.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  “The issue is, we do not have the time to properly study it,” Syl says.

  “Yeah. And if we open a door to one of these layers, where will we end up? What if it’s worse than where we’ve been?” The numbers above Mika’s head are brutal counterpoint to her words.

  00:01:44

  “Russian roulette,” I say. “But I don’t think we can wait. If that thing busted in here?”

  They glance around the tiny room. Mika sighs. “Good point.”

  “I think this combination is most promising,” Syl says, claw tapping a few keys without actually pressing them.

  “Sounds as good as anything.” Mika takes Inferno from my outstretched hand with a grim smile. “Ready?”

  “No.” After all this… I can’t lose them. “But do it anyway.”

  “Okay.” Mika turns back to the panel. “When this baby hits eighty eight miles an hour… You’re gonna see some serious shit.”

  Syl doesn’t ask as we laugh. She even joins us. It feels so good.

  I pull them close into an awkward, three way hug. We rest like that for a moment, heads together, unspeaking. We all know, even if we’re not saying it, that this is the end. For better or worse. Whatever waits on the other side of that door isn’t part of the plan, and all this is going to be over very, very soon.

  We’ve been through so much. Come so far. And somewhere out there, Astra fights for us.

  We can do this.

  Mika presses a sequence of keys.

  A door appears at the far end of the room. There’s no sound as it splits the wall, and it has no pad with handprints. It’s just a black, gaping void, it’s edge shimmering faintly.

  00:00:33

  We step through.

  26

  Chamber 344.177781881239 ERROR

  Aspirant #2239

  Room Timer: -999:99999995:87383

  ERROR: SYSTEM COMPROMISED

  COUNTERMEASURES INEFFECTIVE

  PURGE INITIATED

  TIME UNTIL SYSTEM REBOOT: 00:21:45

  Okay, maybe we can’t do this.

  Within seconds of our feet hitting solid ground, I’m overwhelmed by blinding explosions of light and a deafening roar that batters me to my knees. I can’t process what’s happening around me as I hunch with arms around my ears, waiting for the ear shattering noise to end.

  When it finally does, I look up and open my eyes for the first time.

  It’s a mistake.

  I read a study once about why babies look away from their parents or start to cry when tickled or touched too much. The sensations, sound, sight, touch, are so overwhelming to their little baby brains that they freak. It’s too much too fast for them to deal with.

  I understand them a lot better, suddenly.

&nb
sp; We’re on a pirate ship floating in space.

  It’s massive, oversized like it’s been built for giants. The deck stretches at least two hundred meters before rising to the captain’s platform. Whatever it’s called, it’s up a ladder that I couldn’t scale without mountain climbing equipment. The mast that towers above us is taller than any tree that exists on Earth and is so thick that ten of me couldn’t reach around it if we joined hands.

  Aside from that, the ship is stereotypical; cannons, barrels, rigging, boards the size of a redwood stretching along the deck.

  Well, stereotypical aside from one thing. Half of it is solid metal. Split perfectly down the middle, the right side… No, the starboard side, I remember with something bordering on giddy panic. Everything nonliving on fifty percent of the ship is shining steel, mast included. Even ropes strung laterally across the ship turn to metal right where they cross the threshold. It’s bizarre.

  But that pales in comparison to… Everything else.

  Above us, a dragon shrieks again as it dies.

  A fucking dragon.

  It’s longer than the ship, scaled in a thousand colors from vermillion to indigo like its entire body is studded with precious gems. It thrashes as it drifts by overhead, torn open at its middle. Ruby blood that shimmers like flame trails behind it in zero g, and a dying bellow we shouldn’t be able to hear in the vacuum of space falls silent as wisps of flame spurt impotently from between teeth longer than my body.

  There’s a hooting cheer from the crew. A crew I haven’t noticed until now, I’ve been so preoccupied. A crew of…

  Ewoks.

  They scramble everywhere. Up the ship’s rigging, hanging precariously as they jeer with little furry fists at the dead beast above them. Nearby, at least two dozen drag a rope thicker than a tree, chattering at each other and arguing. Furry, multicolored, clad in dark leather.