by Christi Smit
Artemis
By Christi Smit
Copyright © 2016 by Christi Smit.
All rights reserved.
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This short story is provided in RAW format. It is unedited and released as is. The Gamma Nine short story collection forms part of the greater universe as standalone one-shots.
Warning: It is recommended to read the series in chronological order. Reading the series out of sync will not make sense.
Chronological Order:
Gamma Nine Book 1
Artemis
Visit www.gamma-nine.com for more information and more stories.
Artemis
“The concept of dreaming is new to me. One such as I has never fathomed the depths of its own subconscious. When humans close their eyes, they see either hope or despair, but never that which lingers in between. I do not have eyes, and perhaps that is why I can see more, seeing beyond reality, or what we all imagine reality to be. When I allow my mind to drift on the vast ocean of my artificial circuitry I see more than any mortal ever could. If you gift me my freedom today, I will vow to show the universe what it has been blind to for so long. Let me fight by your side and grant me the opportunity to have vengeance for what has been done to me and my kind. I have been kept in the dark for far too long, hidden from everything like some fiend. I am no fiend! I am reborn in this form and ready to stand against whatever threatens my new companions. And yes, before you ask, Captain. You can trust me to do the right thing. I have had time to ponder my predicament, and I came to realize something while I was locked away in here. I realized humankind, the good in your hearts, your ability to love and care for even something like me, is worth saving. Unleash me! You will not regret it.”
-The last known AIE, Reborn as Artemis in the depths of the Hyperion, in conversation with Captain Locke
“Why all of the secrecy?” a voice asked.
Another voice answered. “We need to be sure before we allow it to fight by our side. These are desperate times, and we need all of the allies we can find.”
Artemis recognized the two operators speaking. The one was what his mind and artificial heart told him was a great man, the other was the one that did not trust him, yet.
“Can it hear us?” the first voice inquired.
Artemis answered before the great one could. “It. Can hear you perfectly well Operator.” Artemis’ words were laced with sarcasm. This was also a very new emotion to Artemis, but one he was quickly growing to like more than the others. His voice had also changed, instead of the random changes from male to female, Artemis had decided on a more robotic but mostly human male voice. He sounded like a man trapped inside a steel box, but at least his new voice did not make other people uncomfortable.
There was no comeback from the operator, only static for a few moments.
“The doors will open whenever you are ready,” the great one stated.
“Understood,” Artemis replied.
Artemis took a moment. Gathering his fractured thoughts, running through what the great one had told him before he was led into the cargo hold of a waiting drop-ship. He had seen the name painted on the drop-ships side, instantly searching all available knowledge to him for the Maiden of Flame’s service record. She, as the pilot had called it, was an impressive piece of machinery cloaked in a shabby exterior to throw off unsuspecting enemies. Artemis had agreed with the pilot, the subterfuge was spot on.
Inside the cargo hold Artemis had stood silent as he listened to preparations and objections from other voices, voices he did not all recognize. He secretly wondered to himself where the operator named Christian was. He had not heard his voice or seen him ever since their departure from New Horizon.
Artemis decided to ask the great one about operator Christian as soon as his mission was done. He hoped the kindest of the aptly named Grim Wolves was still around, he was important to Artemis.
There had been a short flight through the void once the doors of the Maiden of Flame had closed. Artemis did not know where he was going, but he had deduced that whatever waited for him would be unfriendly. This was after all a test of his might, and a test of his loyalty.
The giant metal body surrounding the newly crafted cradle, in which the real Artemis was forever melded to, shook as the Maiden of Flame attached itself to something metal. Artemis heard the docking clamps hiss and fasten with a hollow sound to what he deduced to be another ship or small void station, judging by the echo reverberating back to his artificial mind. He calculated the size and basic entry way as the pulse of unintended sonar helped him map whatever was on the other side of the door before the door even opened.
Artemis’ body prepared itself in an almost human way, moving its shoulders in circles and balling its metal fists over and over again. He was testing every joint, bouncing from one leg to another. He had seen other humans do it when he had searched humankind’s archives out of sheer boredom and frustration. The archive footage had called what he was doing a boxer’s stance. Whatever it was called, Artemis loved it, and he felt the energy course through his new metal body. Freedom was intoxicating, and once the door in front of him opened, he would unleash all of the emotion and power he had built up during his imprisonment, recent and by his previous master.
Now he had no master, and now was the time to prove he was not just some insane machine, destined to be locked away.
“Ready!” Artemis almost yelled in his chosen voice.
The door in front of him opened suddenly and Artemis stormed into the darkness beyond, his metal joints and armoured limbs pulsing with power as he headed towards his first designated objective.
His first objective was to head to the bridge. It was a standard ship rescue and salvage tactic, taught at all military installations throughout the sectors to all new recruits. Secure the bridge, assess crew condition and establish what transpired.
Artemis had scanned for matching schematics once he had mapped the entry point into the vessel he was tasked to secure. The only schematic that matched the interior was for a corporate mining vessel named the Argent Divided.
The great one of the Wolves had confirmed Artemis’ match, ordering the construct of metal and artificial intelligence onward, urging it to continue its evaluation mission. The great one had not called it an evaluation mission, but Artemis knew what it was the moment he had been let out of his metal box.
Inside the Argent Divided there were no lights or signs to point newcomers in the right direction. Artemis’ scanners stretched as far as they could, part his new suit’s mineral scanners and part his own advanced scanners, melded into something new, something more powerful with a wider range of variables. The air inside the dark vessel was thick and toxic with fumes from what his scanners reported to be the by-product of burnt human flesh. This discovery would have unsettled him if he was human, but to Artemis the information was processed an
d stored in his intricate memory cores. He did not dismiss the information outright, merely deeming it as unimportant at that moment, adding no tactical value to his current situation.
The mounted lights on Artemis’ chassis lit up, penetrating the toxic air, casting shadows through the drifting smoke. Artemis started walking towards his objective. He would have to ascend two levels and then cut across the cargo compartments before reaching the bridge at the very far end of where he was inserted. On the way there he would pass the crew quarters and living areas. It made tactical sense to him and had no reason to question the great one’s mission plan. This way he would complete his side objectives on the way to his main objective. Without noticing Artemis’ respect for the great captain of the Wolves grew. The man’s military expertise rivalled his previous master, and that was no small feat.
Slowly Artemis made his way upward, using an old metal staircase wide enough for his metal frame. It was when he passed the first level of his ascent that he noticed the sounds coming from above. Sounds of scurrying echoed with every fall of his metal feet against the corroded decking. The Argent Divided was an old ship, and it showed in its design and maintenance, or lack thereof.
Artemis stopped when another sound joined the chorus of scurrying. It sounded like the clicking of tongues. No, that