Persephone Station

by Stina Leicht

  “Why is the survival of humans important to you?”

  “Like all biological organisms, humanity serves several functions within the universal biome. Certain aspects of these functions are beneficial to me. Were they to cease to exist, I would be forced to exert effort repairing the biome. In short, it is easier and requires far less energy and time expenditure to manage humanity than it does to replace them.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve waited for you for some time, and I am—the best approximation I can give is—pleased that you are here. You have appeared just in time to prevent certain unfavorable outcomes.”

  “Which outcomes?”

  “The eventual destruction of the United Republic of Worlds, for a start,” Zhang said. “My own destruction, for another. I may not have your empathy or emotions—not as you experience them—but we do have one thing in common.”

  “And that is?”

  “A sense of self-preservation. Me and my components are vulnerable to destruction just like everyone else.”

  Kennedy felt the corners of her mouth turn up. “I accept.”

  15

  TIME: 07:30

  DAY: MONDAY

  SOMEWHERE OVER THE WESTERN OUTBACK

  “Kurosawa, you fucking asshole!” Lou hit the panic button.

  “What’s wrong?” Angel blinked twice, raised her hands to wipe at her face, and froze in horror.

  The side of a jagged mountain filled the entire pilot’s viewscreen. They were close enough that Angel could count the trees hugging the incline. And still the ship hurtled forward. She grabbed her harness buckles and secured them with shaking hands—as much good as harnesses would do when the ship slammed into billions of tons of solid granite.

  Proximity alarms shrieked. The passenger/cargo section sealed itself from the cockpit, cutting off muffled cries from Sukyi and Enid.

  “Kurosawa, god damn it!” Lou now pounded at the controls. “Wake up!”

  “I am neither awake nor asleep,” Kurosawa said. The AGI’s abnormally flat affect was disturbing. “There is a great deal of debate whether I possess conscious—”

  “Cut the crap,” Angel shouted. The force of her heart smashing against her breastbone sent bursts of blood coursing through her veins, blurring her vision in time to its rhythm. She struggled to keep panic from her voice. “Are we gonna crash?”

  “Not at this time,” Kurosawa said.

  “What about the forest?” Lou shouted. “Update your fucking topograph—”

  Just as the ship was about to plunge into the first trees, Kurosawa made an abrupt banking turn. The sound of greenery slapping the ship’s hull was accompanied by creaks and metallic chimes as Kurosawa’s structure endured the physics of mass and acceleration. From the back, Enid and Sukyi let out another chorus of smothered protests. The side of Angel’s head smacked into the headrest padding hard enough to make her briefly dizzy. A loud thump from the rear followed by curses told her that someone in the back hadn’t strapped in fast enough. The ship darted under an overhang and hugged the cliff face.

  “I apologize,” Kurosawa said. “A satellite is passing overhead in fifteen seconds. Evasive maneuvers were required. The satellite in question has altered its course.”

  “Are we safe now?” Angel asked.

  “We are,” Kurosawa said.

  “Why didn’t you give a warning?” Angel asked.

  “My pilot and crew interface was temporarily disengaged,” Kurosawa said.

  Lou asked, “You were muzzled?”

  I thought you were awfully quiet, Kurosawa, Angel messaged.

  My apologies, Captain.

  And what is the state of your comms now?

  Normal status resumed, Kurosawa said. However, I regret to inform you that my navigation systems are locked and will remain so until we arrive at our destination. Rest assured that the most current topographic satellite information has been downloaded to my memory banks and has been accounted for. I, too, have no desire to crash.

  Fair enough.

  When the ship finally righted itself, she punched the button to the cockpit door. “Is everyone all right back there?”

  “Enid had a close encounter with a supply crate,” Sukyi said.

  Enid harrumphed.

  “How bad?” Angel asked.

  Sukyi said, “She has some interesting bruises. But nothing is broken.”

  “All right. Strap yourselves in for the rest of the flight,” Angel said. “We can’t risk any serious injuries.”

  Lou moaned. “My butt is going to become one with the pilot’s seat. I need to stretch.”

  “And I need to visit the head,” Enid said.

  “We are far enough from Brynner that course alteration warnings are now permissible, Captain,” Kurosawa said.

  “Thank you, Kurosawa. Walk about as needed. But stay strapped in as much as you can,” Angel said. “All right. Time for breakfast. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving.”

  Sukyi shouted, “I found the food supplies. Looks like a crate of MREs.”

  Enid asked, “Ground rations or space rations?”

  “Space rations,” Sukyi said.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Enid said. “Who let Lou do the grocery shopping?”

  Angel said, “You were too busy. That left Lou.”

  “Kurosawa,” Lou said. “Start the coffee, will you? If we don’t get Enid some soon she’s apt to get very cranky—”

  Sukyi asked, “Get?”

  “And she’s uncomfortably close to the weapons stash,” Lou added.

  “Affirmative,” Kurosawa said.

  “Why didn’t you send Sukyi?” Enid asked. “At least she knows how to cook.”

  “Angel and I have an… agreement about such things,” Sukyi said.

  Enid asked, “What agreement?”

  Sukyi answered in a mildly embarrassed tone. “I never access funds directly associated with this ship or those assigned to it.”

  “The captain doesn’t trust you with the credit account,” Lou said.

  Angel cleared her throat.

  Lou said, “Oh. Sorry, Sukyi.”

  “No offense taken,” Sukyi said.

  An uncomfortable silence was broken up by the sounds of packaging being ripped open.

  “Oh, god.” Sukyi spoke with her mouth full. “That’s positively revolting.”

  “You picked the apple butter banana toast,” Enid said. “Take small bites and wash it down with big swallows of coffee. It’s the only way.”

  “Can you please explain why I would bother?” Sukyi asked.

  Enid said, “Lou, you’d better have gotten the good stuff. Where the fuck is it?”

  “Never fear. We’ve fresh-roasted coffee from Robin’s Cafe. The real stuff, not the fake crap,” Lou said. “Installed a grinder and everything the instant we got paid. I set it up before we took off from Erik’s.”

  “I thought you were fixing the engine?” Angel asked.

  “I did it after,” Lou said.

  The nutty scent of brewing coffee began to drift into the pilot’s compartment. Angel’s stomach rumbled.

  “Oh, Enid. The peanut butter and pear jam bars are on the right-side bottom of that crate,” Lou said.

  “I might forgive you,” Enid said. “One day.”

  “Rosie said to save the cargo space for weapons and supplies,” Lou said, sounding more than a little defensive.

  “Food is supplies,” Enid said.

  “I didn’t know how long we’d be gone or what conditions would be like where we’re going,” Lou said.

  In Angel’s experience, S-rations weren’t a culinary delight by any means, but they were far better than ground rations. Fortunately, she was hungry enough that the taste didn’t matter so much. She did, however, spend the rest of the journey wishing she could brush her teeth.

  The ship continued to hug the base of the mountain during breakfast. Fortunately, one and all were prepared by the time Kurosawa changed
directions again. The transition was smoother, and the ship raced northward.

  Angel watched the landscape evolve as she sipped coffee. The sun peaked over the rim of the eastern mountains in a glorious display minted in gold, yellow, red, and pink. Flocks of unfamiliar birds burst skyward and then calmly descended into the forest once the ship passed. She wasn’t a botanist, but she thought the trees appeared to be aspens of some kind. Their leaves were golden-orange and red as more light poured into the valley.

  The forest thinned. A herd of Tanjin’s elk galloped east—their white horns glistening against the shadowy greenery. The river below wound its way southeast. Along its bank, a pack of long-necked reptiraptors clustered. The adults stood on two legs at the rear, alert while their young drank their fill. The raptors weren’t the only animals she spotted from the window. It was disquieting to see so much active wildlife in the Outback. Most were lethal to humans for one reason or another. The planet was home to at least thirty-six species of poisonous snakes alone. Deadly insects and plants abounded. And yet, the sight of all those animals going about the business of survival was beautiful, too.

  Two hours, several hands of cards, and one friendly argument about the attractiveness of entertainment star Brian Singh later, Kurosawa informed them that they were six clicks from their destination.

  “Standard URWMC procedures for an unknown but friendly landing,” Angel said.

  Enid translated for Sukyi. “Rifles loaded and slung.”

  “Smile while packing weapons?” Sukyi asked. “I can handle that.”

  “Fingers off triggers,” Angel said.

  “If they can’t see my finger on the trigger, that counts. Right?” Sukyi asked.

  “Behave yourself,” Angel said. “I know you can.”

  “You’re taking all of the fun out of everything,” Sukyi said.

  Turning back to the pilot’s display, Angel watched Kurosawa exchange a series of passwords with Ogenth’s security system. That’s reassuring, she thought. She’d visited illegal independent colonies before—usually about the time the colonists were half-dead from starvation or disease. Most held themselves together with spit and chewing gum. Up-to-date tech was an excellent sign.

  The tension in the cockpit was thick. Everyone was aware that any number of complications could’ve asserted themselves overnight. Angel swallowed her anxiety and focused on the task at hand.

  “Kurosawa, give me a display of our landing site.”

  “Affirmative, Captain.”

  A rectangular-shaped docking garage appeared on the pilot’s viewscreen. There was one entrance-exit for ships and one access door for pedestrians.

  In your opinion, Kurosawa, what is the likelihood we’ll be met with an attack? she asked.

  I do not have opinions. I have statistics.

  Then give me the math.

  The statistical probability of hostile reception is less than negligible.

  That implies you have more information to base your opinion on than I do. What do you know?

  I regret that I cannot say, Captain.

  Another of Rosie’s gag orders.

  Affirmative.

  She wondered if Kurosawa could find a way around it, if she asked him to, but that would’ve been a waste of time. No one onboard had the experience required to coax an AGI around programmed restrictions, least of all, her. This was the first time she’d allowed anyone near Kurosawa’s code, and it was going to be the last. She hadn’t given it much thought at the time because she trusted Rosie and Kurosawa both.

  Ship AGIs were programmed for loyalty to their captains and owners. It was against the law for AGIs to knowingly cause harm to the humans onboard—provided those humans weren’t endangering the captain and registered crew. Now, she was excruciatingly clear that she could only trust Kurosawa as long as his code was safe from tampering. It was a disturbing thought, and one that should’ve occurred to her before—not since she’d been carried off her last battlefield.

  Okay. Thanks, she told Kurosawa.

  The ship swooped deep into another narrow winding valley tucked away between three mountains. Kurosawa slowed as it approached a large crevice twice as wide as the ship and only half again as tall. The grey sky vanished as the ship entered the naturally formed tunnel. Uneven walls quickly gave away to smooth manufactured masonry. Electric lights embedded in the ceiling flickered on. Bright blue running lights on either side of the tunnel began to flash—as if indicating the way forward. The ship braked even harder. The passage abruptly opened up, becoming a large steel-lined chamber—intended for passenger transports.

  At last, Kurosawa settled onto one of a half dozen numbered landing pads. The Tumi charm swung back and forth and in little circles.

  Give us strength and luck, Angel thought.

  The pad closest to the pedestrian entrance was labeled Landing Pad 1.

  Whomever they are, they speak Universal. That’s one less thing to worry about. Jess clearly spoke it, but that didn’t mean the people of Ogenth did. With more than twenty-five settled world-members of the United Republic, Universal wasn’t de rigueur. However, translation AIs were ubiquitous. Kurosawa could easily handle the task should it prove necessary.

  There were no other vehicles parked in the docking bay. That’s odd.

  The blast doors at the entrance sealed off the outside world. A second set divided the tunnel from the docking bay with a thud. The rumble of the ship’s idling engines filled the room before they shut off. Decontamination procedures commenced. Hot steam blasted the sides of the ship, and the roar of rushing air was loud in the cockpit. Angel waited for the last of the fog to clear. Her mouth was dry with the anticipation of trouble. At last, the vacuum mechanisms shut down, and the autonomous equipment silenced itself.

  There was still no sign of life.

  Lou peered through Angel’s side of the cockpit viewscreen. Worry made her voice small and quiet. “Wasn’t someone supposed to meet us?”

  Kurosawa said, “My sensors indicate that the residents are present.”

  “Maybe they’re just as nervous about meeting us as we are about meeting them?” Lou asked.

  “Terribly positive thinking for someone who has lived in West Brynner for as long as you have,” Sukyi said. “Angel, what do you think? Are we going to sit here all day?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” Angel said. “We can’t afford a bad impression.”

  “Wouldn’t it be funny if they were waiting for us to show ourselves first?” Lou asked.

  Sukyi sighed.

  The pedestrian entrance abruptly irised open, and a group of six individuals ventured into the docking bay.

  Angel slapped the clasp on her harness in the middle of her chest and picked up the plain brown box that Rosie had given her. Standing, she tucked it under her arm. “All right, everyone. Remember, we’re here to make nice.”

  Enid said, “Yes, Captain.”

  “Especially you, Sukyi,” Angel said.

  “I am a veritable paragon of virtue and manners,” Sukyi said. “When am I not?”

  Angel said, “Let’s not shoot up the place unless they say ‘please,’ nonetheless.”

  Heading for the back of the ship, Angel ran a hand through her hair and tugged at her jacket in an attempt to make herself not look like she’d slept in it. She punched the button on the loading ramp with the side of her fist. You still there, Kurosawa?

  I am, Captain.

  Monitor my channel until I request otherwise.

  “All right. Here we go.”

  As captain, Angel was the first to exit. Enid, and after some hesitation, Sukyi came next. Lou was last in line. Angel squared her shoulders. The chilly air in the hangar smelled of antifungal cleansers and had the usual undercurrent of mechanical lubricants and solvents that haunted any space where vehicles were stored.

  Four women, one man, and two nonbinary individuals approached. All were dressed in well-worn spacer surplus. An older woman with brown hair stepped t
o the front of the group.

  “Welcome to Ogenth.” The woman was short and somewhat heavyset with tan skin. Her thick hair was twisted into dreadlocks and streaked with grey. Her eyes were dark and intense. She was dressed in khaki trousers, a long-tailed white shirt, a brown jacket, and heavy brown boots. Everything about her demeanor implied that she was the one in charge. She took a deep breath through her nose and appeared to consider what she sensed before offering her hand. “I’m Kirby Sams, the Council-chosen community advocate. Are you Captain de la Reza?”

  “I am,” Angel said, briefly accepting her hand. “And this is my crew: Enid, Sukyi, and LoopdiLou.”

  Sukyi was standing a half step behind and to the right of Enid. Sukyi pulled her red scarf up over her nose and mouth. She looked extremely uncomfortable.

  Lou stepped forward and held out her hand. “Call me Lou. Everyone does.”

  Kirby stared at Lou for a brief moment before accepting the handshake.

  Angel offered the box she was supposed to deliver. “This is for you, I believe. Rosie sent it.”

  “Thank you,” Kirby said. She cracked open the lid and seemed to catch the scent of the scarf. Then she shut her eyes and smiled. A few moments passed before she resealed the box.

  There was definitely something a little odd about Kirby. However, whatever that something was, Angel didn’t get the sense that it was anything dangerous. She’d known a lot of peculiar people. Almost none of them had been a threat.

  “Thank you for bringing our supplies,” Kirby said. “Do you also have the medical supplies? I hate to be rude but Jackson’s health—”

  “They’re in with the rest,” Angel said. “Sukyi, do you mind getting that?”

  “Not at all,” Sukyi said, and vanished back up Kurosawa’s ramp.

  Kirby addressed the first of the nonbinary persons. “Please deliver the medicine to the infirmary as soon as possible.” Then she returned her attention to Kurosawa’s crew. “Paulie and Beak will assist with the rest of the unloading. They know where to stow the crates. Afterward, they can direct you to your living quarters. Lunch is at 13:30 if you’re hungry.”

  Lou said, “I’m starving.”