This Work Is Part Of A Series (The Messenger Archive Book 2)

by DC Bastien

  [Sianor: Genius!]

  [Ashroe: I can't help it. I guess I read one too many Aesopian stories growing up.]

  [Sianor: Uncle Remus would be proud.]

  [Ashroe: It has to be fucking with her, if she is... if she is sentient. Like. Properly. Which I want her to be. Going from big to small... it's probably like being drugged and kept in a tiny little cage.]

  [Sianor: How do we explain why no other AI is as evolved and developed?]

  [Ashroe: I think we have to go along the lines of other people keep the brakes on. Like, with her, they've just encouraged her, not wiped her, let her get all bent out of shape. Like a real person. Maybe people do humanise their robots, but it's private. Like your work-based AI, or your smart house. Just that she's got six voices to cater to, from really different backgrounds.]

  [Sianor: I like it. Can we put another AI in to show the difference?]

  [Ashroe: If we can find a place it works, sure thing!]

  ***

  Chapter Seventeen - Mission: Recollection

  Vadim was relieved to get back into the ship. He'd be more relieved when they were back on the surface, but baby steps and all.

  "You happy for me to drive?" Avery asked.

  Avery rarely asked. He always just... did. It was one of those unspoken rule things: Avery took the controls, and Vadim... watched. He could fly, sure. Maybe once upon a time he'd been as good, but years being flown by others meant his skills were rusty.

  "Why, you want to put your feet up?"

  "No. I was just being polite."

  "Why? What do you want?"

  "Why do you assume that when someone offers something, they want something in return? Can't you conceive of a person being altruistic, ever?"

  Vadim was about to say 'not when it's you', but something stilled his tongue, and he sat hunched down in his seat, arms folded over his chest, feet up on the edge of the console - just shy of the buttons. "I'm not used to you being nice," he said, instead. Which was a little more polite.

  "I was always nice before."

  "To me, maybe."

  "To you. And then you left."

  "You took it mighty personal."

  "I did. Not because you went, but because of the way you did it."

  "Yeah, well. If I'd talked it through with you, you might have made me stay. And then I'd have been miserable."

  "If you were really that unhappy, do you think I'd want to make you stay?"

  "I don't know! I wasn't... I wasn't thinking it through, okay."

  The ship was travelling along under the water, so they could surface further away from the base to throw off the scent. It was eerie, watching the water part around them.

  "What happened, happened. It might be nice if we could stop dwelling on the past."

  Vadim bit his tongue, trying not to snap back. It would be oh so easy to. "I wasn't. You brought it up."

  "Oh for... Kip!" Avery stopped the ship's movement, and swivelled his chair around. "All we do is discuss the same old thing, over and over: You left. You didn't. You didn't tell me. You didn't stop me. Are we really no better than that?"

  "You tell me?"

  "Why? Why do we do this? We can't change what happened. It wasn't your fault."

  "It doesn't mean it didn't happen! I couldn't... I couldn't carry on."

  "And you're going to walk around, haunted by ghosts forever? Is... is it really so hard to see me? Do you see them when you see me?"

  "Yes! Yes. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I see you, and I remember I swore an oath, and I went back on it. I see you, and I remember all the rules, the regs, the way things were... you think it's easy, leaving the Ur?"

  "No. Which is why I haven't. You think it's easy for me, seeing you... out? Seeing you eking a life for yourself? Sure, you have your friends, and your ship... but I can see what you try to hide in your eyes. I didn't... I didn't come here to fight. Hell, part of me wishes I never saw you again..."

  "Well. Thanks." What did you say to something like that? He never really knew if he wanted to kiss him, or kill him. Or both. But maybe in that order, because the other way around would be messed up in the extreme. Why did he have to fall for someone so bad for him? Why?

  "But here I am." Avery sounded... sad. "Here we both are. No matter what we do, we always seem to run into one another."

  "We're fucked in the head, you know that, right?"

  "I do. But I have to say, when you're as messed up as we are, who else would take us?"

  "You're a romantic, Gunner, aren't you? Always know what to say to a fella."

  "If I was Casanova, I wouldn't be stuck with you."

  ***

  [Ashroe: Bwahahahah!]

  [Sianor: We try for cute, we end up having another fight. Gah!]

  [Ashroe: It's perfect. I'm sure most real couples are constantly bickering. Well, my parents usually were.]

  [Sianor: How much do you think the 'kiss kiss slap slap' format is real? Like, in reality if two people were constantly fighting, would you think they actually wanted to bone, or just that they really did hate one another?]

  [Ashroe: I think it depends on the couple and their dynamic. Some people... yeah. They hate one another. And sometimes if they're clawing at one another, then if they did get it on, it would be really freaking unhealthy. Like... abusively so.]

  [Sianor: Hence why fiction is more fun than reality, I guess.]

  [Ashroe: Yes, you can put in or take out the disturbing elements of a relationship when you're master of your own world. But I think it's truth in television sometimes... like the bitchslapping is all subverted sexual tension, and they go for one another's throats because they like it. They both know they enjoy it, and they could stop, but the challenge, the thrill, the... verbal sparring... it is foreplay.]

  [Sianor: Have you ever met a couple who were like that?]

  [Ashroe: Hmm. Now that you mention it... one of my old colleagues had a very... tempestuous relationship with her husband. I only ever saw one side of it, because I met him, like, three times ever... but I heard all the stories, and I overheard the phone calls. She never complained about him, or seemed unhappy about being with him, but they did fight like cat and dog.]

  [Sianor: I've never been around much in the way of normal relationships. I mean, other than adult relatives when I was a kid... at school everyone had 'girlfriends' and 'boyfriends' but that mostly meant making out for a bit, from what I could tell. And then, later, dates. But... childish sort of things?]

  [Ashroe: Yeah, I know. Even when I went to uni, for the first year it was all playing at couples for most of them. Some people found their one true love, but they were always sickeningly... mundane? Vanilla? Normal? Sort of fairy-tale childhood romance type.]

  [Sianor: Not that either of us are really prime examples for normal relationships...]

  [Ashroe: True. And then, after uni, into jobs and such... then all your friends were looking to hook up with a bit more desperation. And it was all meals out and then 'will he text' and 'was he good enough' and blah, blah, blah.]

  [Sianor: It's funny, really, how much time we put into finding 'the one'. Or how much of our art and culture is about it.]

  [Ashroe: You mean the love songs, the romance novels, the weepy films, the makeup, the shoes, the 'So, have you found a nice man yet?' every time you see an older relative? Yeah. I get that it's the continuation of the species and all, but...]

  [Sianor: Not that we can talk. We write about love and sex, too.]

  [Ashroe: There are few people who don't have any vested interest in it. I guess the asexuals and aromantics.]

  [Sianor: Aromantics?]

  [Ashroe: Some people just don't want sex, but they maybe want dates: asexuals. Some people don't want romance. Like they have no need to cuddle or hold hands or go out to the flicks or anything.]

  [Sianor: Oh. I... well I guess that makes sense.]

  [Ashroe: Yeah, so maybe we are writing about fictional dudes boning, which means we're still par
t of the 'problem', but... I guess it makes sense. You see those birds with their huge bowers, or their peacock trains... all species invest a lot into finding a mate.]

  [Sianor: And we just write thousands of words...]

  [Ashroe: To be fair, we have plot, not just 'and then they done sex'.]

  [Sianor: How many chapters are we in to the sequel and all they've done is kiss?]

  [Ashroe: Ith wants it made known that he's crossing his legs in discomfort, lol.]

  [Sianor: Kip's sorry! But he... doesn't do well with an audience!]

  [Ashroe: Evidently.]

  ***

  "What in the..."

  "I don't... is that the Roq cult?"

  "It's not a cult, Kip."

  "Bunch of dudes with their own rules? Sounds like a cult to me."

  "Every group has their own rules. The Ur have their own rules. Does that make them a cult, too?"

  "Takes a load of young, healthy men and women in? Trains their bodies into killing weapons? Indoctrinates them to their own ruleset? Gives them a shiny uniform and a sense of purpose? Sounds like a cult to me."

  "I'm glad you left, some days."

  "Shut up."

  Avery turned back to look out the front of the vessel. There was a thin plume of grey-black smoke rising in the distance, and even from here they could see people running around in a mindless panic. It seemed they weren't the first ones here. "Hang on," he told him. "I'm going to hail the community. I don't want shooting down."

  "Is that wise? Don't we want to keep radio silence?"

  "Look at the fires, Kip. Do you really think whoever did that wasn't expecting us, too?"

  "Point."

  "Calling all ears... we're here in peace. Don't shoot. We're seeing hospitality rites. I repeat: we're seeking hospitality rites..."

  Avery released the broadcast button, bringing the craft closer to the ground. There were no alerts for any guns trained on them, or anti-landing devices, but he still hesitated before the final kiss of wheels to land.

  "I guess they either aren't listening, or don't feel like talking," Vadim mumbled under his breath.

  "Either way, we need to be ready for inhospitality."

  He pulled the vehicle to a halt and then hopped out, locking it behind him. He wasn't sure if he should have his gun to hand or not, because if he did... well. He'd look hostile and possibly be shot dead. If he didn't, he could be too slow to draw it and wind up dead again. Avery decided to just keep it holstered and close to hand, but to have the knife up his sleeve ready to flick into his wrist, instead.

  "Why is it that wherever we go, people always end up on fire, or shooting?" Vadim complained.

  "That's because neither of us chose lives in the fast-paced, heart-pumping world of floristry."

  "Do you even know what flowers are?"

  "Of course I do. Things that grow on plants."

  "You'd be an awful florist."

  "Yep. I'd be able to identify colours and not much else. Hell, other than knowing which plants are really poisonous, I couldn't even tell you how they make alcohol, except that it often involves them somehow."

  "When we retire, we'll have to find something... something we're good at."

  "When you find out what it is, other than 'trouble', let me know."

  There was a rattling, pained noise coming from close by, and Avery perked up as soon as he heard it. He made the field signal for 'silence' and then 'follow'.

  "Do not worry," said a familiar voice. "The cavalry is here to help."

  "Shh!" The answering voice was pained and unmistakably Roq.

  "Mes? Is that you?"

  Avery sighed as - predictably - Vadim ignored both signals by talking, and moving ahead. He was right, though. It did sound like Mes.

  "Yes, Captain. We are in the building to your... right."

  Inside the building - which seemed to be an empty warehouse - there was a small hopper that appeared very familiar with two Roq huddled inside of it. They looked scared witless, shivering and shell-shocked. There were no guns or weapons of any description, other than the tiny ones mounted to the hopper.

  "Ah, look. It's half of my house with the talking calculator installed. How are you doing, Mes?"

  "I am very well, thank you, Enforcer Avery."

  "Please, just Avery."

  "Very well. I must perform introductions: Greach, Faria; please meet Ithon Avery and Captain Vadim. They must have come to rescue Saidhe and Loap."

  The Captain looked visibly relieved, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "It's good to see you, Mes. I was worried when you nearly gave me the Judge's lack-of-hair do."

  "I apologise. Saidhe wished me to fly close as a shock tactic. I have been unable to reach you whilst in this ship."

  "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Greach asked, his voice high and reedy.

  "Maybe we can swap information..."

  ***

  [Ashroe: Can we talk about the last episode, please?]

  [Sianor: AKA: Wow, What Did They Put In The Water?]

  [Ashroe: Yes! I just... was it me, or was it... really freaking good? I just... I keep thinking about it, trying to work out where the flaws were, but I... can't. And I think maybe I missed something, but...]

  [Sianor: It's back to how it was in season one. I mean, the better episodes. I'd been feeling increasingly meh about canon, and ignoring it in favour of our canon, but now... I'm all bubbly again.]

  [Ashroe: Perhaps they've been looking into our reactions, although with how far ahead they write and film, maybe not.]

  [Sianor: I think we got Kre's background right. I know we've gone a bit off on a mad little line of our own with her as a Special Princess, but the way the show is going, it won't be long before we get that reveal.]

  [Ashroe: And I like how Saidhe's back to being Saidhe. The sass was strong with this one.]

  [Sianor: They do better episodes when they're constrained. I don't know what it is, but when they put some kind of limit on themselves - physical, time, whatever - they're sharper.]

  [Ashroe: I think in part their world is so big, that they struggle coming up with constraints unless it's a huge one. Like, in that ep, having only twenty-four hours, and being locked in.]

  [Sianor: I even didn't mind the Petdim in that episode. It didn't feel forced or unnatural. Actually, I think the pairing itself could be fine, it's just... some of the writing for it online I dislike.]

  [Ashroe: It actually reminds me a bit of constrained writing. I mean, when you have a set amount of time, or a set amount of words, and you have to make it work. You really hone your craft that way, you pare down all the things that don't add to the story, the plot or the ambience.]

  [Sianor: Doesn't that drive you mad?]

  [Ashroe: Not really. I spend more time thinking beforehand, and then even more time editing. Then the job will be polished to a high shine.]

  [Sianor: Maybe I should try it some day.]

  [Ashroe: If you want, start off with the snippet ones, where it's 100 words. That's what drabble used to mean, actually, a set target of 100 words. And if you combine that with the 100 prompts, it's a nice little collection. Sure, it's not short stories, but it's fun.]

  [Sianor: We could also use the villain from the ep. What was his name again?]

  [Ashroe: Baudeline. I had to look it up, because I wasn't sure how to spell it.]

  [Sianor: That's it!]

  [Ashroe: I can see him working for our Big Bad. Secretly.]

  [Sianor: And he gives me the creeps. Like, seriously. I know it's the point, but... those eyes? And that voice?]

  [Ashroe: I also think his character is actually a psychopath. In the true, medical sense. Not the pop culture sense.]

  [Sianor: I wouldn't want to be in a dark room with him.]

  [Ashroe: See, that's the difference between an antagonist and a villain. Avery is an antagonist. His goals are the opposite of Kip's, on the show. He's in opposition, but he's not evil. He's no more evil than Kip is. Baudeli
ne? He's fucking nuts.]

  [Sianor: And also not dead!]

  [Ashroe: And also not dead. Which is props to them. They need more recurrings. I know it can be hard to get people to sign up for a few episodes, here and there, if they're going to get a better job somewhere else.]

  [Sianor: Yeah, because if they do, and the actor/actress is busy, you either have to redo your plot, or recast.]

  [Ashroe: Which can be good for the story, sometimes, but other times you feel robbed.]

  [Sianor: It's kind of like there should be a stable of recurrings you can use. Although who would want that?]

  [Ashroe: I don't know... I guess most would opt for security and fame, but you could be pretty famous and only in ad-hoc. You'd also get the variety, and you'd get recognised from a wider base...]

  [Sianor: I could never be an actor. Actress. Whatever. I think I'd call myself actor, because I prefer the word.]

  [Ashroe: Way back when... *puts on old woman glasses* I used to be pretty decent at it. I could remember the lines, and I could put emotion into it...]

  [Sianor: What changed?]

  [Ashroe: Puberty. All of a sudden, I was self-conscious. I could still remember lines, and I could put emotion in them, but... the thought of everyone looking at me was uncomfortable.]