by Gwynn White
“I don’t want to,” Liv said weakly. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? Vengeance was the first mind to have touched hers, and almost all her happy memories from childhood were with her playmate, a legendary Warship of the Spire.
She did miss him. She’d loved him and trusted him with the complete devotion and faith so unique to children. But she was no longer a child.
“Do you know how often Vengeance assigns tasks directly to his new engineers?” Renee asked.
Liv shook her head. She’d never thought to ask. She’d assumed her hectic workload was normal for new grunts.
“Maybe three times a week,” Renee explained. “The rest of the time, he communicates needs to the senior officers, and they assign workloads as they deem necessary.”
“You mean Vengeance doesn’t ping their quarters at all hours of the day and night to notify them of new tasks?”
Renee’s smile faltered. “He doesn’t allow you a full sleep-cycle’s rest?”
Liv shuffled her weight nervously and lied again. “He usually allows me the required time. I was exaggerating a little.”
The last thing she needed was for the older telepath to start digging into why Vengeance was constantly notifying her of new tasks he wanted completed.
“I respect Vengeance, and I’m proud to be one of his crew,” Liv hastily added. “It’s just… he can be intimidating, and… well, you want the truth? He can be demanding as all hell. And your request is a rather large, unexpected surprise.”
A rustling in the hedges behind the gazebo told both women Ven was returning. Liv would have bet exactly fifteen minutes had passed. She was certain Vengeance had been counting the seconds.
Renee straightened and forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I’m rushing you. Take your time to process this. Ven and I aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you, judging by the way Ven sings your praises every chance he gets.”
Liv forced herself to smile back at Vengeance’s link, who was asking her to do the unthinkable: risk blowing the cover that had allowed her to return to Ven’s service without sacrificing her independence, and more importantly, her mind. “Well, I’m sure Vengeance will get bored with watching me work.”
At least, she hoped he would grow bored with her, because if he didn’t, if Renee continued to insist on this friendship, her time aboard Vengeance could be coming to an end.
8
Vengeance emerged from the line of fruit trees and scanned the orchard for Liv then realized he’d searched for the young woman before his best friend of two hundred and fifty years. Looking away from Liv, he kept his focus on Renee, who approached him and put her hand on his arm, smiling innocently up at him as if she hadn’t just embarrassed him and sent him away.
“It’s all right, Ven. Liv and I finished our talk.”
Vengeance crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. When Renee proposed having a little time alone to speak with Liv, he’d pretended his feelings were hurt and that he needed to stick around for his link’s safety. Neither ploy had worked. Renee knew him too well to believe his reactions had anything to do with bruised feelings or even her wellbeing—it was curiosity.
He hated curiosity—not knowing the answer to a mystery. When Renee had proposed making Liv his new lover, he’d analyzed the possibility that her suggestion was genuine but determined the likelihood was less than two percent before she reached the end of her sentence. It was an obvious tactic to throw him off the trail. But her exact reasons for wanting to talk with Liv were as yet undetermined.
None of Renee’s chemical markers or physiological responses betrayed even a hint of the reason for her interest in the young engineer.
But, upon further reflection, the most probable reason was rather simple: Renee was the one who was lonely and wanted a human friend. He certainly couldn’t blame her. She spent most of her time with him, and although he tried to understand every experience she shared with him, there were so many things he couldn’t comprehend because of what he was.
“This is about you, isn’t it?” he asked Renee. “Not me. You need companionship from someone of the same sex and species.”
Renee snorted and rolled her eyes. “Sometimes, I really do feel like I’m talking to a computer.”
“I’m not a computer,” he pointed out.
“Then stop talking like one,” she teased.
Ven let his arms fall by his sides and sighed loudly. “Would you just acknowledge that I’m right?”
“This is driving you crazy, isn’t it?” Liv asked.
Ven glanced at her and tried to affect an air of nonchalance. “Statistically, there’s only a .003% chance of my behavior resembling anything ‘crazy.’”
“Statistically,” Liv laughed, “what are your chances of grasping sarcasm and euphemisms? Because if you can’t get either, this friendship will never work.”
“With Renee?” he clarified.
“Um…” His journeyman engineer lowered her eyes, and he was sure she blushed.
“Renee…” Ven said sternly. “What is going on?”
“Nothing,” she answered, her voice still oozing a fake innocence he’d been able to see through for over two centuries. “Like you said: Sometimes, I just need someone of my own sex and species to talk to.”
“Yeah, it’s a girl thing,” Liv offered then pressed her lips together in a failed effort not to smile.
Ven blinked at her before turning his attention back to Renee. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that? I completely understand such a basic need. You are human, after all.”
“Am I?” Renee said, putting a hand on her hip as she continued to tease him for acting like a computer rather than the AI he’d always been. “And what else would you like to point out about me, Vengeance?”
Vengeance shot his young journeyman engineer a pleading look, because for once, he was a bit stumped. He hated that almost as much as not having an immediate answer to a mystery.
“Don’t look at me,” Liv said. “You got yourself into this.”
“Then how do I get myself out of this?” he asked.
Liv shrugged. “The right answers are probably something like, ‘You’re also beautiful, and smart, and the best friend I’ve ever had.’”
“Okay,” Ven agreed. “Renee, you’re also beautiful, and smart, and the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Nice try,” Renee said, but at least she was smiling at him now.
Ven rubbed his eyes—a strange human habit he’d adopted thousands of years ago—to indicate how tired he was growing of this conversation. “Well… just make sure you plan your female activities around Olivia’s training with me.”
“Hm,” Renee responded. “Seems like you’ve already been doing quite a bit of training with your young engineer.”
Ven opened his mouth, and a small croak escaped from his drone’s chest. He couldn’t even look in Liv’s direction.
“Well,” Liv deflected. “You know… it’s my job. And I’m sure Vengeance just wants to ensure his crew is the best in the Spire. After all, he hasn’t made it this long by choosing mediocre personnel.”
Ven finally dared to look at her again and caught her tugging at the hemline of the soft pink tank top she wore, a few scattered roses stretching across her breasts. His eyes lingered a second too long on those roses before he realized both women were watching him.
He felt his drone’s face heating up and wondered how quickly he could create another Hail Mary alarm to get him the hell out of here.
“Um…” he stammered.
“I’ve always loved roses,” Renee interrupted. “You never wanted to plant any here. Maybe we can change your mind.”
“Renee,” he groaned. “We’ve been over this. Roses would be in violation of regulation 678-subsection A-45—”
“I’m old, Vengeance,” Renee said. “Not senile. I remember the regulations. And I’m only asking for one rose bush.”
Liv had crossed her arms over her chest defensively, and Ven
’s cheeks warmed even more. “I wasn’t…” he tried, but he didn’t know what to tell her.
Had he been admiring her breasts? He hadn’t done that in hundreds of years, but there was certainly nothing remarkable about her tank top.
Something else had obviously caught his attention, and of course, he knew exactly what that something else had been.
Liv raised an eyebrow at him and retorted, “You weren’t what? Do you make a habit of analyzing your crew members’ bust sizes?”
“No!” Vengeance exclaimed. “Of course not!”
“Well, there’s clearly nothing remarkable about mine,” she mumbled.
He was stumped. Yet again. This entire morning really would end up driving him crazy. But he was quite sure she was wrong—everything about her body was remarkable.
Ven straightened and extended his hand toward her. “Journeymen Engineer Hawthorne, please accept my apologies for my blunder.”
Liv eyed his hand suspiciously for a few seconds before placing her own, smaller hand in his. His breath caught in his chest. In all his 3125 years, 459 days, and 27 hours Spire standard time, he’d never experienced so many conflicting emotions from such a simple contact. It was both pleasant and nerve-racking, exciting and terrifying.
What was this young woman’s power over him? It made no sense.
“I hope this won’t affect your new friendship with Renee,” he said. “And I hope you won’t feel uncomfortable as we begin our training.”
“Oh,” Liv breathed. “Right. That.”
She pulled her hand free from his grasp and folded her arms defensively over her chest again. “Of course not.” She forced a smile in his drone’s direction and stepped back, which brought her closer to one of his sentinels. Next to the twelve-foot robot, she seemed even smaller, which he knew was impossible, but a new emotion stirred deep within his primary core.
Protectiveness.
Reflexively, his sentinel inched closer to her, Olivia Hawthorne’s defense preoccupying his mind. Liv eyed it warily.
“Ven,” Renee said quietly, “I think it’s time to let Journey Engineer Hawthorne return to her sleeping quarters. It’s cold out, and she needs rest before starting her day.”
“But the drill isn’t over yet,” Ven insisted stubbornly.
“She’s freezing her ass off out here,” Renee snapped.
“Well, I didn’t choose the time,” he mumbled. “Captain Welner did.”
“Ugh,” Renee groaned then turned her attention to Liv. “He’s hopeless, isn’t he?”
“I… really wouldn’t know.” Liv kept her eyes focused on the ground.
“Many other crew members are in a similar state of undress,” Ven pointed out. “The drill was timed to occur during main sleep cycle to evaluate how well the crew adapts to sudden stressful situations.”
“Yes, I know,” Renee said. “But that doesn’t mean we should let the poor girl freeze to death. Come here, Olivia. If Vengeance is going to be a stickler for regulations, the least he can do is help you stay warm.”
Liv shook her head quickly in Renee’s direction, and Vengeance gaped at his link. What had gotten into her lately? Maybe she was going senile. He quickly scanned her, but all bios registered fine, as did her neural links.
“Ven, stop looking at me like I’ve sprouted two heads. I meant for you to give Liv your tunic. It’s big enough to fit her like a coat. What did you think I meant?”
He wasn’t about to admit what he’d been thinking.
“Of course.” He triggered the nanites on the tunic, opening the side seam, and shrugged off the outer garment. When he held it out to Liv, she shook her head again.
“I’m fine. Really.” She kept her eyes on the ground as if the grass had turned a fascinating color.
He continued to hold out the tunic.
She continued to study the ground.
Another thirty seconds passed so Vengeance gave the tunic a wiggle.
No response. Not even a blink.
Renee chuckled and touched his arm gently. “I’m assuming I’m not confined to this garden until the drill is over, so I’m going back to bed. Don’t antagonize the poor woman too much.” As Renee walked back toward her sleeping quarters, Vengeance directed his sentinel to follow her but held his drone’s position.
Another thirty seconds. Another wiggle of the tunic.
“Oh, fine.” Liv snatched the nanogarment from his hand and hefted it over her shoulders then hugged it close to her body. “But if any of my fellow engineers see me, you’d better start explaining fast or rumors are going to fly.”
“Understood. I will speak fast.” Amusement swirled through his core personality.
“Very fast. Are we clear?”
“Yes. Very.” Ven pressed his lips together, but he couldn’t help it. A deep laugh erupted as he thought of this brash young engineer who’d just given an order to a three thousand-year-old Spire AI.
Liv sucked in a quick breath as the color drained from her cheeks, leaving her so pale he feared she might pass out. Ven scanned her vitals, but aside from an elevated pulse rate and a new rush of adrenalin, they were already normalizing.
Liv closed her eyes and groaned. “You should just go ahead and toss my ass in the brig now, before I do more damage to my career. Seriously. You’d be doing me a favor. The report can read ‘Too stupid to function. Imprisoned for her own safety.’”
Another rumble of laughter escaped him. Ven couldn’t remember the last time talking to someone besides Renee had been so enjoyable. Of course, that wasn’t entirely true. He remembered exactly how long it had been. But still, he never knew what this young woman would say next, and that unpredictability delighted him.
“I think,” Ven teased, “I’ll skip throwing one of the most promising minds aboard my ship into the brig. It would be a complete waste of impressive talent.”
Liv tugged at the tunic and shuffled her feet nervously. “Sorry,” she muttered. “People like to talk… and the more scandalous the rumor, the better.”
Ven lifted a shoulder and assured her, “Understood. I’ll set the record straight should any rumors begin.”
“You know, it’s not really my friendship Renee wants,” Liv said quietly. “I mean, it is, but not with her. She wants me to befriend you.”
“Me?” Ven repeated.
Liv glanced up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Apparently, she thinks you’ll need someone to help you when she…”
Ven grunted, annoyed that Renee had lied to him, even if it had been out of concern for him.
“Since when do you lie to me?” he asked her through their link.
“Since you became a pain in the ass about acknowledging that you need other people in your life.”
Ven pretended to think about that before responding, “So always then?”
He could sense Renee’s amusement and found himself smiling. For a moment, it was like old times, before she’d decided to leave him. Regret followed on the wave of his joy.
“Thank you, Renee. But we both know we can’t force her to do something like this. Friendships have to happen organically. They can’t be mandated.”
“I’m not mandating anything. I simply asked her to give it a chance, but she’s quite reluctant. I think you’ll find that you both need one another.”
“Wha…?” but Renee cut him off.
“Is she still there? Are you seriously having this long conversation with me while she’s just standing around waiting for a conversation she can actually hear?”
Ven sighed aloud and rubbed his eyes again. “This is hopeless. I’m not friend material.”
“Shut up and pay attention to her,” Renee instructed.
“But it’s not too late. I could reverse your aging. You could remain my link for many more years. Centuries, even. Please, Renee. I’m not ready to lose another link.”
A touch of sadness and another wave of regret passed along their link. He merged his consciousness more fully with hers so there would
be no doubt about his love for her.
“I’m sorry I failed you, Ven, and that I couldn’t be what you needed.”
“That’s not important to me. I love you regardless.”
“I couldn’t live as an AI. I never wanted to be immortal. My heart and mind need rest, and I want to learn what comes next. You know I’ve always believed he’s waiting for me somewhere.”
“I could learn with you.” Even as he suggested self-termination, fear wormed into his core.
“You love life too much. It’s not your time, Ven.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not. Besides, we still have years together after I’m no longer your telepath. You can come visit me whenever you want.”
“Um… can I go back to my sleeping quarters now?” Liv asked.
Ven jumped as the unexpected voice interrupted his mental conversation with Renee, who sensed it, of course, and laughed. “Serves you right for ignoring your young engineer for so long.”
Liv had been nervously pacing in front of his drone, and her proximity caused another sensation he hadn’t felt in an extremely long time. As that tingling excitement passed along his neural pathways, filling him with an electric warmth, he became painfully—and humiliatingly—aware that her presence aroused him.
For the second time, he sensed Renee laughing. “I take it back. Forget the friendship. Let her go back to bed and go with her. This is a friendship that needs benefits.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Ven muttered aloud.
Liv stopped pacing and arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you okay?”
“Uh… yeah. Just… Renee. Being Renee.”
“Ah,” Liv responded as if she could possibly understand what he’d meant by that.