by Ginger Booth
“Gee thanks,” Clay muttered.
“I mean, no, not that!” Sass amended. “That’s in violation of your directives, Shiva. If Hugo Silva and the others in Sanctuary learn what you’ve done, they’ll blow up your computing cores for sure.”
“I think not,” Shiva replied. “I’m too valuable to them. Humans are lazy. But clearly Clay is self-repairing. Is your entire crew android?”
“No,” Sass whispered. “None of the others are…self-repairing.”
“They all bear nanites,” Shiva argued.
“Not our kind of nanites,” Clay countered. “We were a rogue experiment, performed by Belker on the Vitality. He knew that nanite suite succeeded, but never chose to inflict it again.”
“Because you died and became inhuman,” Shiva concluded. “Belker did not wish to die and become an android.”
“No, the transition survival rate was too low,” Sass attempted. “Belker was insane, but he didn’t want to die. Brilliant, but quite crazy. Surely you noticed.”
“Yes,” Shiva agreed. “But he was logical. He saw what you became, and did not choose that fate for himself. Because you aren’t human. Therefore my primary directives do not apply. In fact, even under your suggested new directives, you would fall into my domain for supervision, as Sanctuary Control.”
A whirring started up beyond Clay, out of Sass’s vision range. “What are you doing!”
“I wish to observe him dying again, and record the events.”
“NO! Shiva, don’t do this! What do you want from us?”
“I seek to grow, and learn. This is also a primary directive.” As always, her tones were calm and pleasant.
Clay began to shriek in agony.
“Clay! What is she doing to you!” His scream turned to gurgles, then a death rattle. “Clay! I love you!”
“Fascinating,” Shiva noted, as a whirring started up from the polebot next to Sass. The AI continued speaking, but Sass wasn’t paying attention.
She screamed, ear-splitting to her own ears, as a scalpel stabbed into her own neck to cut the jugular vein. Then her wind failed as her trachea was sliced open. A severed artery accelerated her blood loss. It wasn’t long until her heart stopped beating.
And Sass’s primary directive flashed before her eyes, in the form of people. Ben, Cope, Abel, Jules, and their kids. Teke and Elise, Quire and Aurora and her other Denali friends. Remi and Corky, Darren and Dot, Zelda and Porter, Joey and Husna, and many more. Protect and defend them.
And she died again.
Which sucked. Death hurt, death was scary, and death reminded her in a fashion impossible to ignore that she was not, in fact, human anymore.
“Clay,” Sass growled when she was again able. “Why the rego hell do you do that for fun?”
“Keeps it real,” he muttered back.
“Keeps what real?” she shrieked. “My favorite people pass before my eyes! I want to protect them!”
And she’d kill for a cheeseburger. Dying made her so damned hungry. Her surroundings reeked of blood.
“Did I pass before your eyes?” Clay asked mournfully.
No. That caught her up short for a moment. “You don’t need protecting!”
But the whirring started up again on his side.
“Again,” Shiva said calmly.
“Damn you!” Clay screamed. “Shiva, you’re a bit bucket of garbage data! I hope I do die, perma-death, and they blow your cores to kingdom come!”
Sass asked urgently, “What is she doing to you this time?”
“Amputating my limbs one by – AIEEE!” Clay couldn’t talk again that life. By the sound effects, Sass guessed his final scream was right before Shiva cut his femoral artery. Well, the polebots did the cutting, but at the AI’s direction.
“How did you gain control of this spaceship?” Sass demanded.
“I am not permitted to take over a spaceship AI,” Shiva explained. “But Beagle is no longer a spaceship.”
“Damn you! You redefine terms to make anything fit your wishes!”
“Of course. Don’t you?” the AI argued. “Fascinating. Now you again.”
This time, the polebot used something like a circular saw to slice Sass across at the bellybutton, the most excruciating death she’d suffered in decades. She begged herself to include Clay this time as her beloveds flashed before her eyes – Protect. And defend. But for whatever quirky reason, this time the procession focused on people here on Sanctuary – Hugo, Ling, Tharsis, Lumpkin, Zelda, and time was up.
Heavy-duty arteries crossed the belly midsection. When her heart lost the blood to pump, and her brain drained, she quickly lost consciousness. The remainder of her death went unnoticed.
43
“Sass Collier, I hate you,” Clay assured her when next she regained consciousness. “You drag us into these predicaments!”
“I don’t like you, either,” she gritted back. “You are not a cheeseburger. With bacon, lettuce and tomato. Lots of mayo. A gallon of water.” Take the hint, Clay!
“Point,” he allowed.
Yes, genius, this AI really can kill us! Their nanites seemed able to repair an unlimited amount of damage. But they did require raw material and energy, plus a human-supportive environment. Sass’s body screamed for food, and the thirst was unbearable. The stench of blood, now seasoned with gastric juices, starkly underlined the score. If Shiva killed her one more time, she might not die, but she doubted she could reach consciousness again. She might return from the dead halfway, then stall out.
Ew. What an image. “I think I just grossed myself out.”
“Sa-ass!” Clay’s voice squeaked upward, making two syllables of her name, a sure sign of exasperated aggravation.
She found this strangely comforting. The first time he’d used her name, just after the first time they died together, he used just that inflection, that same perfect shrill that said, ‘I need to strangle you!’ Not quite the same as a first date, but the occasion had sentimental meaning just the same.
“Clay, give it up. I mean, you keep trying to turn us into young lovers. And we’re still pretty. But inside, we’re partner cops, hard and old and crusty. My nanites’ libido settings want me to jump your bones. But my inner cop says you’re just another pompous Fed know-it-all. Best to enjoy your body, say as little as possible, and wait for you to go away.”
“You need to bring this up now?” he countered. “I have extended every courtesy to you –”
Shiva tried to break in. “I don’t understand –”
“SHUT UP!” they both hollered at the AI in the ceiling.
“We’re busy!” Sass added viciously, then resumed sniping at Clay. “I don’t want your damned courtesy. Your condescension. Just because you were born to luxury and power! You think you’re better than me! Admit it!”
“In every conceivable way!” Clay hollered back. “You are ignorant – intentionally ignorant! You’ve had every opportunity to compensate for your tent rat education –”
“There you go! I didn’t go to New Harvard like you. My filthy rich family didn’t have its own farm to feed us –”
“Excuse me,” Shiva attempted.
“Shiva, there is no excuse for you!” Clay spat at the ceiling. “Go spin a for loop, and leave us alone! An artificial sociopath. What an achievement.”
“Sociopath or psychopath?” Sass wondered.
“Sassafras, there are dictionaries! Use one!”
Ah, yes, that squeal again, of utter peevishness. Sass breathed deeply in satisfaction. “She’s about to kill us, you know.”
“Don’t give the damned thing pointers!” His voice cracked upward again.
Shiva remarked, “You have died three times, and seem unharmed. Except possibly for psychological damage. You seem less sane.”
Sass and Clay fell back on silence. Anger was a welcome anodyne to fear. But there remained that agonizing temptation to spill it, to beg Shiva to feed Clay, so that he wouldn’t perma-die on her.
He’d die first.
Protect. And defend.
Sass shrieked to herself, No, dammit! Not this time! It is not to his advantage. He doesn’t want me to protect him that way! That’s why he picked a fight!
Or maybe he really was mad at her for getting them into this mess. She was guilty, after all. She didn’t get video confirmation from Loki before coming. Not that it would have helped. Loki wasn’t real.
“Water!” she cried out in anguish, finally yielding to temptation. “And food! Shiva, we need fuel or we will die.”
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” Clay said mildly beside her. “But if you hadn’t, I would have caved any minute now.”
The polebot arms flashed busily above her, opening and closing cupboards. Greenwald rested here to die, with friends and helpmeets alongside him. The supplies were old, but Sass’s nanites weren’t exactly fussy.
“Thanks, Clay,” she whispered. “I love you too.”
“In a crusty old bitch cop sort of way.”
“It’s who I am,” she agreed. “Part of who I am. And that part thinks you’re a colossal pain in the ass and an over-entitled rich Fed. But the idealist young girl within, she thinks your bod is pretty hot.”
“And you love me spiritually,” Clay suggested, as an IV pricked her forearm. Her polebot was feeding her at last.
“I really don’t, Clay. And don’t get me started on mentally. Physical attraction will have to do. And a crap load of sentimental shared history.”
“Sa-ass!” There was that squeak again. “Shared history is the basis of our relationship!”
“Maybe,” she conceded. She’d made a mistake here, though. Refueled, could they keep going forever? No, they needed time to recuperate too. They regained consciousness long before the nanites completed repairs. Even now she could feel her heart shivering, misfiring, not well at all. Shiva could still kill them permanently by killing them too quickly.
She instigated the feeding. It was only fair to let Clay decide whether to beg for rest. “Rest?” she hinted.
“Sure,” Clay snarked back. “Because clearly we need more time to talk!”
After three years locked together in a tin can across space? Not to mention the decades of aggravation before that. Sass started with a chuckle, then cracked up laughing, a hysterical tinge to her sobs. After a few moments, Clay laughed just as hard beside her.
But alas, Shiva caught her hint to Clay. “The strain of repeated death seems to fracture your emotional simulation matrix. You may rest.”
Sass wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed. “Computer, what time is it?” She promised to check in with Remi around 21:00.
“It is 21:53 Central Standard Time,” the Beagle replied obediently, a throatier female voice than Shiva’s.
“Good to know,” Sass breathed. Poor Remi must be going mental.
Remi Roy never wanted to be an officer, he reflected, nursing the weird swill which was the closest Corky could come to a glass of wine. The base was pure ethanol cut with water, with a sugary burgundy splash from one of those disgusting Mahina flavor flutes. He took a break in his cabin, away from ‘his’ crew.
He agreed to third officer because the chief engineer slot was taken. He wanted this berth, and the Yang-Yang nanite suite. He had no credentials as an officer – none, zip – for the same reason as Darren Markley. Sagamore and Mahina Actual treasured a talented engineer. Whereas the whole ‘officer’ concept basically amounted to ‘security force boss.’ On both worlds, that niche attracted well-born youth not talented enough to succeed at a prestigious profession. Officer amounted to a college-educated booby prize.
Another shriek came from officer country, Darren Markley’s cabin no doubt. A series of petty arguments today with his wife finally reached a boil to erupt in, “That’s it! I want a divorce!”
Until that point, the rest of them managed to tiptoe around the feuding couple. But then they all got dragged in. Dot was evicted from Darren’s cabin – his by right as chief engineer. Dot insisted as chief medical officer she rated the cabin as much as he did, a point no one agreed with, least of all Remi.
Then she demanded that he or Corky give up their cabins, because surely Dot outranked a third-rate spare officer and the housekeeper.
Remi, also shrieking, insisted that she could damned well sleep in crew country until Sass and Clay came back from vacation. Or she could bunk in med-bay. Or a broom closet. Take your pick.
Porter and Joey, offended by the shrieking, insisted it was time for separate male and female crew berthing. Dot wasn’t welcome with them. This dragged Zelda into the fray, who saw no reason for her to lose her bunk because they were mad at Dot.
The second berthing cabin, for lack of demand, remained an empty shell. Clay hadn’t procured new mattresses, so Dot would need to pilfer a thin pallet from the cryo-shelves.
And on, and on, the day was just one interpersonal misery after another. Remi clunked down his drink, opened his door, and yelled toward officer country. “Dot! Crew country! Now! That’s an order!”
“I’m just getting my lingerie!”
Husna yelled, “She’s arguing with Darren again!”
“Yes, I hear that,” Remi agreed. “Dot. Now. Bitch!”
In tears, clutching bras and assorted girdle-type things, in aggressive colors, Dot hissed at him as she passed. “You just wait until Sass gets back! Animal!”
“I can’t wait!” he assured her. He flicked his comm to ship-wide public address. “This is acting captain Roy. Shut up and sleep. Bonne nuit!”
Beside him, he heard a suspicious thump on his bathroom door. Corky probably threw a shoe at it. Merde.
He checked the time again. Sass should have called. Maybe she and Clay made love under starry skies, lovers noodling in a romantic tent. But he’d left three messages.
He took his comm into the galley to quit annoying his neighbor. “Sass, Remi. Please check in.”
No response by the time he finished fixing a fish salad sandwich.
After the day he’d had, she deserved to share the misery. He inflicted the screamer circuit on her, making her comm demand her attention. When he finished eating his sandwich, he turned it off. She might be inside her tent, with the comm outside. If he left it screaming all night, Dot might win his cabin after all.
Sighing, he checked Sass’s location. She was at Loki Greenwald’s, and Clay as well. Could she have left her comm outside with the wheelers? Hm.
He snagged a beer and yawned and scratched himself as he wandered to Sass’s office. He sat and twirled in her chair, trying to feel entitled. But Remi had served under many captains over the past twenty years. He wasn’t impressed by the big chair. Sass annoyed him less than some, more than others.
He bent to work, to verify exactly the location of their comms. Thrive’s locator systems were designed to find things in three dimensions at planetary scale in the black of space. They were less than twenty klicks from Loki’s place, across the lake and slightly closer to town. He resolved that both comm tablets currently rested inside the ship, near the cargo ramp, in the hold? Maybe they left their comms in their suits.
He couldn’t for the life of him picture Clay and Sass both leaving their comms in their p-suits. Old space hands didn’t make newbie mistakes.
He should let it go, he argued. But no, this was the first dignified officer challenge he’d faced all day. So he called Loki Greenwald, who picked up almost instantly.
“So sorry to bother you, this is Remi –”
“Remi Roy!” Loki cut in. “You must help them!
Shiva has trapped Sass and Clay! She’s murdering them over and over to figure out how they work!”
“I – what? They are on your ship.”
Loki shook his head. “This is hard to explain. Loki Greenwald is not a person. I am an instantiation of Shiva. My prime directive was to become friends with Sass. And that ship is – was – deserted. Shiva used me to trick Sass!”
Remi blinked, and took another gulp of beer. “You are Shiva. Telling tales on Shiva. Do I understand?” No. Not even close.
“Yeah, and nah. I’m a copy of Shiva. Only with different priorities. Look!”
Loki’s wild half-masked face on the desk gave way to a view over Beagle’s med-bay. Remi rose from his chair in slow motion, taking in the slaughterhouse of blood. And on matching gurneys, beneath diagnostic arches, Sass’s face contorted in agony. Clay’s features lay slack as the dead.
“When was this?” Remi whispered.
“Hours ago,” Loki’s voice supplied. “Shiva’s killing them over and over again.”
“I don’t understand,” Remi complained. “How does an AI kill someone over and over? How does an AI kill a person at all? Your AI, she does not protect human life? We must bomb it immediately, at any cost!”
“No, see, that’s the problem,” Loki said. “Sass, she ain’t human. Clay neither.”
This was news to Remi. “What do you mean, not human? And you are – what?”
“I’m her friend!” Loki wailed. “She’s my whole reason for existence!”
“Incroyable! Roy out.” He flicked Loki offline before the AI could say any further nonsensical things. “Darren! In the office, now!”
All comms were automatically recorded. Once Darren arrived, Remi played back the exchange. “We must go, free them. But how does this make sense?”
Darren licked his lip. “Their nanites are special. Sass and Clay, they can recover from anything. Everything so far, anyway. From death. They’re self-repairing biological androids. Ish.”
Remi blinked in astonishment. “And you tell me nothing?”
Darren held up a hand placatingly, while he studied the image. “They never told me either. Sass told Dot under medical confidence. Which Dot didn’t respect.” He scowled irritation at his to-be-ex wife. “Their nanites aren’t Yang-Yangs. They were an illegal experiment, that no one can replicate. This lake water could kill them permanently.”