Call of Worlds

by K. D. Lovgren

  Instead, for the first time in her life, Kal was without a tribe. Without connection she was undone, but the connections available to her felt hollow, without meaning, illusions to be fought against rather than a comfort.

  She was alone and didn’t try to fight it. Sitting in the mess alone, she ate her food, not tasting it. When she was in the part of the ship near the infirmary she thought of Sif caged in there, alone like she was, without even Rai for company. On a slow day, she imagined herself passing through the sliding doors, sitting on the floor in view of the quarantine room’s glass wall and talking to Sif. What would they talk about? Would Sif be angry? Resigned? Plotting her escape?

  It wasn’t just Sif in the quarantine room. The Carys was there, too. Kal didn’t think Sif was naturally malevolent, though she hadn’t known her before she’d been melded with the Carys, so she couldn’t say for sure. The Carys, however, was not to be trusted. Was there a way to get the Carys out of Sif? Could Sif survive it if there was?

  Yarick might know. Kal could pull up his echo if she wanted to. Talking to an echo didn’t seem exciting anymore. It seemed sad and morbid.

  On the tenth day, Rai spoke to Kal while Kal was sitting in the library, staring out the false window at the image of the ocean.

  “Captain Black Bear?”

  Kal started. “Eh? Yes?”

  “You are exhibiting behaviors that could indicate a chemical shift in your neurotransmitters.”

  Taking in what Rai said, Kal cringed internally. “Oh?” She squirmed in her seat. “What do you recommend?”

  “There’s a setting on the protein drink dispenser to include a chem balancer. I would suggest a course of seven days and an hour a day in the light room.”

  The ocean waves in the window rushed forward and withdrew in an endless pattern. Advance and retreat, advance and retreat. Endlessly different, every time. Water braiding and unbraiding, like Kal’s own hair with a life of its own. Her hair spilled down her back, tucked behind her ears. She’d taken to leaving it down, with no one here to see.

  Kal reached back and used her fingers to part her hair down the middle in the back. With each hand circling a separate half, she drew her divided hair forward over each shoulder. When it was unbraided it reached down to the middle of her back. With practiced fingers, she plaited one side, so it lay over her shoulder down her chest. When it was fully braided down as far as she could go, she did the other side. Braids of ceremony.

  She stood up and left the library, the coziest room on the ship, and walked over through the atrium to the light room, adjacent to the greenhouses and park. Since the trip began, she hadn’t used it.

  The door was frosted and opaque. It slid open as she stepped toward it. Inside, the floor was spongy. After considering a moment, Kal took off her shoes. Wriggling her toes on the grippy soft surface, she relaxed a notch. The room had been dark when she entered and was lightening gradually as she stood there. There were various curved alcoves to sit in, also a hammock. She tested the hammock with a splayed hand. It was made of a substance that reminded her of the skin that separated the zero-gravity airlock from the cargo door, to keep people passing through from falling when they emerged from zero G to the gravity of the ship. It was stretchy.

  Lowering herself into it, she swayed back and forth as she drew up her legs. Lying back, she noticed the room was much brighter now. Her instinct was to lay her forearm over her eyes, but maybe that defeated the purpose. Wriggling around, she got comfortable. With her eyes closed the brightness wasn’t too much. With a great sigh, Kal relaxed into the support.

  Kal woke slowly. She had dreamed she was asleep on the back of the horse she’d ridden as a child. The paint’s broad rump had been a good place for a snooze. The mare would graze while Kal slept lightly on her back, the sun warming them both, a light breeze rustling the seed pods, keeping them comfortable. The sweet horsey smell was still in Kal’s nostrils. Kal took in a deep breath. For the first time she noticed the sparkle of the ceiling of the light room, a pinkish crystal. After climbing out of the hammock, Kal stood on one of the benches, licked her finger, and touched the ceiling. Finger to her mouth, she tasted salt. Pink salt on the ceiling. The ship always had more secrets to uncover.

  She felt better. “Thanks, Rai,” she said, the first time in a couple days she’d spoken to Rai about something other than the business of running the ship.

  “You’re welcome, Captain Black Bear.”

  “I’ll try the drink.”

  “I hope it helps as well.”

  After the first drink, which she found out was a custom concoction brewed after she’d put her hand in a scanner, she felt even more recharged. A warm feeling for Rai grew in her chest. Hadn’t she and Rai solved the ship’s problem together? They were a team. They were sisters.

  That next day, after she’d been on the bridge for about an hour, she invited her aunt to appear, through Rai. Her aunt appeared in the chair next to hers, where Gunn used to sit near Sasha, the captain. Priscilla smiled and didn’t say anything. Kal reached out as if to touch her—though she couldn’t because Priscilla was a hologram—and felt the comfort of her presence. They didn’t always need to speak, as they hadn’t needed to when her aunt had been alive, back on Earth, when they lived together in a trailer on a stretch of land outside Mission. The silence between them was rich enough not to need words.

  Rai had helped her again. She had the humility to be grateful.

  Her aunt didn’t try to speak to her that day. She watched what Kal did, wandered around the bridge looking at things, and kept Kal company.

  That night, Kal slept deeply, more deeply than she had since the pods left.

  Early the next morning, Kal already at her post, Roan came over holo on the bridge. His hair was sticking up all over, and he had an intensity about him Kal hadn’t seen before. “Kal,” he said. “Kal, are you there?”

  She moved to where he could see her. “I’m here. What’s going on?”

  “We’ve got a situation. I haven’t had the chance to fill you in on all the ins and outs of what we’re doing here. There’s not time to do it now. The short version is we have a mineral deficit. We’ve been powering the generators with solar and geothermal, but a new mineral we identified on Sextant—I didn’t tell you we stopped on Sextant, did I?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Anyway, we sniffed out this mineral. We’ve been calling it rubyglass. It’s red and…the name is self-explanatory. We collected some and found out it was fireproof, shatterproof, and could be superheated at around sixteen hundred degrees Celsius to liquify. Then it reforms itself into hexagonal disks. These disks can be used to run our generators, at a more powerful watt than anything else we’ve got. Stacer, the pilot, is the resource engineer. She found a way to extract the energy from them. They’re a game changer. We want to keep this on the down low for now, because you can imagine the thought patterns back on Earth if they know we’ve already found a resource like this. The stack of rubyglass disks was enough, before we knew what they could do. Stacer wants you to turn around, land on Sextant, and collect more. It would be more efficient for you to do it than to make a trip with the Land from here.”

  Kal stopped herself from bursting out with, Are you kidding me? Instead she said, “Why didn’t you ask me before?” You landed on Sextant?

  “It hasn’t been that long since we had first contact,” Roan pointed out, his tone apologetic. “Stacer didn’t think of it until today. The captain thinks it’s a good idea, too.”

  “Your captain doesn’t have to turn this ship around and retrace her route, burning a ton of fuel in the process.”

  “It will still be much less than we’d go through launching the Land. And Stacer thinks this rubyglass could have diverse applications that could prove key over the next three years. Going now will save time and resources in the long run. You know how important that is.”

  Studying Roan’s wide forehead, thick eyebrows, emotive face, Kal thought about h
ow appealing he was. He would appeal to anyone, pretty much. He was likable. Kal thought of the Carys, and Sif. She thought about Mech, the name Roan called the Land’s AI. What would it look like if Mech had downloaded into someone on the Land? Into Roan, say? Roan was personable. Mech could have chosen him for that reason. Maybe Mech didn’t want the Ocean to arrive this soon, for reasons of its own.

  Could Kal trust Rai to interface with Mech and determine if this was a possibility? Although Kal was not by nature paranoid and preferred to minimize problems since the biggest worries so often didn’t come to pass, she found herself paranoid now. For what felt like good reason.

  “Let me do some calculations and projections,” she said shortly. “I’ll get back to you.”

  Roan looked taken aback by her change in tone from their friendlier previous conversation. “Sure. Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

  Kal flipped away the holo image with a sharp motion of her hand.

  “Rai,” Kal said. “I need you. And--and call me Kal, for now.”

  “Yes, Kal.”

  “Have you communicated with the Land? This Mech, I guess the AI is called? I don’t know its gender preference.”

  “Mech prefers the singular they, non-gender specific.”

  “Do you know Mech?”

  “Our completion dates were staggered. The Land was launched before I was fully integrated. I don’t know Mech.”

  “How do you know about pronoun preferences, then?” Kal said, with a stab of suspicion.

  “Mech just told me.”

  “I thought you hadn’t communicated?”

  “When you asked me I reached out.”

  “Just now?”

  “Yes, Kal.”

  “Could you wait for me to tell you to do that before you do?” Kal snapped.

  “I’m sorry, Kal.”

  “There was a reason I wanted you to wait. So we could do this carefully.”

  “What is your concern, Kal Black Bear?”

  “Are we private from Mech?”

  “I have withdrawn communication.”

  “I need to know if Mech tried to download into anyone on the Land, and if they succeeded. Would you be able to find that out, if you tried? Or could Mech conceal it from you?”

  “The Land did not have the Carys on board, as we did. Without the Carys’s suggestion, I would not have thought of such an action.”

  “We have to be sure. Did you hear Roan? He wants us to turn around and go back, land on Sextant.” Kal felt a tightness in her throat just talking about it. It had been bad enough, piloting alone the rest of the way to Demeter. It wasn’t in the plan to do a bounce on Sextant. Roan said they’d done it, so presumably it was survivable. If she could trust him.

  “I have calculated the reversal. We are not in danger of fuel shortage to make this alteration.”

  “What about landing on Sextant?”

  “The exosuit is sufficient for activity on the surface of Sextant.”

  “And finding this rubyglass?”

  “If their sniffers found it, we will be able to get the coordinates and make a similar landing and collection.”

  “I don’t even know how much they want,” Kal muttered. “It will be just me.”

  “I wish I could assist you, Kal. A holo can’t collect samples. I would be willing if it were possible. The chitons may be operable.”

  “Rai,” Kal said slowly, drawing out the name as an idea struck her. “What would happen if you were able to download into Sif?”

  “You wished me to discontinue such activities, due to the risk to the target.”

  Kal paced the area in front of the window that spanned the width of the bridge. “What would happen if you and the Carys occupied the same person? Who would control Sif’s actions?”

  “It is a difficult hypothesis to prove either way, Kal. I don’t believe it has been attempted before.”

  “I was thinking if we could get Sif into a reliable form she could help move the rubyglass.”

  “Machine aids might be enough help for you, Kal, without having to call on Sif for assistance.”

  “Possibly,” Kal said. “I need to speak to this captain.”

  “Do you want to consult with Captain Sasha Sarno before the on-world captain?”

  “Yes,” Kal said. She twirled the little standing globe stuck to the image desk where Noor used to work. It featured an Earth from a hundred years earlier. An antique brought in, she thought, by Sif, of all people. “Let’s do it.”

  Rai called pod one. Sasha flashed up instantly. Kal smiled.

  “Looks like you’re on schedule,” Sasha said.

  Kal’s face dropped. “Not for long. Maybe.”

  “What’s up?” Sasha was in full-on captain mode.

  “I had contact with Demeter. Have you talked to them yet?”

  “No. We should be in range soon.”

  “I met a guy named Roan, one of the biohab engineers.” She hurried through her explanation. Kal realized she was holding one of her braids, like a talisman. She dropped it. “Rai says it’s feasible.”

  “How important does the captain of the Land rate this collection effort?”

  “I haven’t spoken to her yet. About to call her but wanted to speak to you first.”

  “What are your concerns?”

  Kal glanced up, where she looked when she thought about Rai. “Since Rai says it’s doable, some of my concerns have been taken care of. It did occur to me to wonder whether the Land could have had a similar breakdown, attempts to download into people, such as we had here. Rai pointed out if the Carys hadn’t been aboard she never would have attempted such actions. She doesn’t know Mech, the Land’s AI, but has broached an interface. It wouldn’t be a good thing if Mech was giving orders instead of this fellow Roan.”

  Sasha had the austere look of one making the most detached decision. “You must use your own judgment, Kal. You have Rai, and clearly have the best understanding of her now. You would take the risk. I will not tell you what to do.”

  “Do you think it’s possible, the scenario I mentioned?”

  “Of course it’s possible.”

  Kal lowered her voice. “Like a revolution?”

  “I don’t think it’s likely, but I wouldn’t have said it was likely the Carys was with us on the Ocean in the body of our ethicist.”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t think there’s a revolution. I think a couple of AIs have explored their options. The Carys and Rai are not the same. Whether you should worry about Roan being another Sif—” Sasha shrugged. “The best due diligence is to talk to other crew.”

  “Do you know the captain?”

  “Rev Cooley? Only by reputation.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A hothead. Doesn’t mind making the risky move. Didn’t mind being the first through a portal.”

  “Bragging rights, huh?”

  “Yeah. She’s got them. Forever. Who knows when we’ll find another portal? She might be the last person to go through first.”

  Kal thought Sasha sounded a little wistful, but she might be mistaken. “What do you think of our chances, getting through the rings and down to Sextant and back out?”

  Sasha bobbed her head back and forth, weighing possibilities. “I’d rather be there. I don’t like the fact you’re on your own.”

  Kal nodded. It was the same thing she didn’t like. Besides the uncomfortable feeling she’d be going backwards, away from where she’d worked so hard to reach.

  “Will I be okay?” Kal couldn’t keep it in. She wanted reassurance.

  “Talk to the captain. Suss it out. Trust your gut. Do that. You’ll be okay.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to give Captain Cooley a ring.”

  “Over and out,” Sasha said.

  “Over and out.”

  Kal needed a reset, even though every second brought them further away from Sextant. She raced out of the bridge, clanged across the gangway, and up to the astrolab to see the st
ars, the constellations she’d named, Demeter in the distance, Mythos partially hidden by Demeter—her world now—laid out like a pointillist painting, pricked out in light and color. She knew this ship; she knew this view. Sometimes she felt she and the ship were one.

  Was that why she hadn’t had to speak to Rai as much lately?

  Kal shook this thought off. With deep breaths, as if she could breathe in the courage of her ancestors, she drew in what she needed to face what was next.

  If she did this, the pods would arrive on Demeter before she did. She’d be the last one in. The rotten egg.

  Under stars she whirled in a circle, spinning until the lights were tracers encircling her. When she was good and dizzy, she stopped.

  With a cry, not of pain but a whoop of attack, she raced back out to the spiral ramp, down, down, down.

  Back on the bridge, she checked her image, straightened her clothes, smoothed her hair, put on her mask of captaincy, a more formal face.

  She sat in the captain’s seat, now her own, and called Rev Cooley.

  “Captain Cooley?”

  A blip, a spray of static, and Captain Cooley embodied into a holo in front of her. Kal was prepared for anything. Cooley had a don’t fuck with me air, but that wasn’t uncommon. It didn’t rattle Kal.

  “Yes,” Cooley said. “Who are you?” Cooley’s hair was silver, her skin olive, her eyes greenish amber. Her face was smooth and careful, but it looked like her brows often pulled together in a frown. Her face was long, curving symmetrically down to a pointed chin.

  “Acting Captain Kal Black Bear. Has Roan given you the rundown on the Ocean’s status?”

  “Affirmative. You’ve received the orders to return to Sextant?”

  Kal’s eyebrows shot up at that. Sasha hadn’t said anything about the Ocean being under the orders of Captain Cooley. Was this an attempt to usurp their rank?

  “I wasn’t aware we were under your command, Captain Cooley.” Kal used her bland face. It worked well with spacefarer types. It might be partly why she had been promoted so fast.