“The hair helps?”
The woman in the mirror stared back at her, and regardless of rounder edges, and a look that hinted at some emotional bruises beneath the surface, she felt a change. “It does.”
“Laura is here,” Lewis announced. ”Should I let her in?”
“She’s on my list,” Ayan reminded him.
“I know, but so much has changed in the last twenty hours. Whole sections of the social matrix surrounding your immediate command structure are becoming invalid, I’m doing my best to recompile.”
“The list of people who can enter my quarters unannounced is still accurate, I’ll make changes if necessary.”
The door opened and Laura started to enter then stopped. “Wow,” she said. “I was just starting to get used to the blonde.”
“Is this better, or?” Ayan asked, pulling her hair up off her shoulders and letting the curls fall.
“It’s better,” she replied. There was something else, something she was holding back.
“It brings back ghosts,” Ayan guessed. “You’re remembering the first Ayan.”
“No,” Laura said, crossing the short distance between her and Ayan and gingerly taking a handful of curls in her hand. “The more time passes, the more you differentiate yourself,” she said with a small smile. “I’m getting to know someone new, and it’s been good. Red hair looks different on you.”
Ayan felt more and more that her life was separate from the previous one that ended too soon, like the first Ayan was a completely different person, but it was the first time someone else said it. “How different?”
“Less red and alarmy, more like a rose.”
The description was so flattering that Ayan couldn’t help but smile, but she still said, “I was going for a look that projected more strength.”
“The black does that,” Laura said, dropping her hand to the arm of Ayan’s vacsuit. “And training with Oz’s recruits when you have time.”
“Ayan, is Jacob Valent on the list?” Lewis asked. “He was before he changed his name, but now I’m not sure.”
“List?” Laura asked.
Ayan wasn’t surprised at the question but at the fact that she had to give it some thought. “Lewis keeps a list of people who can enter my cabin unannounced. You’re on it.”
“Jake was on it. Are things so different between you two now?” Laura asked with a raised eyebrow.
The door slid closed behind Laura as they sat down on the circular seat in the middle of the room. It changed shape so it became a half moon, perfectly sized for the pair to sit across from each other. “He killed two people in cold blood,” Ayan said. “Changed his name and declared war. I don’t even think the Carthans are overreacting. I don’t like it, but he’s political poison.”
“Or he’s a leader, calling for people to stand up and fight,” Laura said. “It’ll take time to see how this works out. What’s important now is whether or not it changes things between you two. We can work around any problems with the Carthans.”
“He’s hard to look at right now,” Ayan said. “That android wasn’t very convincing, but I know I might have a reaction if I woke up beside him.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“Is he on the list?” Lewis pressed. “I need to know because he’s on his way up the gangway.”
“Let him in this time,” Ayan said. “We have to talk.”
“Come find me after?” Laura asked. “I’m going to have a talk with Jason. I need to know what’s going on in his head for once.”
“Good luck,” Ayan said.
Jake squeezed past Laura in the hall, and walked through the open door. He wore his trench-coat over a black vacsuit much like hers, and had his favourite sidearm strapped to his hip. Looking at him, it was almost difficult to tell the last thirty four days had trapped him in a simple worker’s uniform.
The door closed behind him and he glanced upward. “Privacy mode, Lewis?”
“Do you agree, Ayan?” Lewis asked.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied.
Jake kept a respectful distance. She almost wished he didn’t, but staying out of his arms would make what she had to say easier.
“I’ve got to have a talk with him,” Jake said. “Sometimes he listens, sometimes it’s as if he doesn’t trust me.”
“He doesn’t,” Ayan said. “A lot of people don’t.”
“Does that include you?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know anymore.” She sat back down. “It’s just hard to process everything you did after they tried to kidnap you.”
“You mean killing those two amateurs?” Jake asked. “It had to be done. It’s the best way to scare off anyone but the most dedicated professionals.”
“And what happens when you run into one of them?” Ayan asked.
“I run if I’m alone, take them on if I have support, and I’m not going anywhere without support,” Jake said. He sat down across from her and took her hands in his. “I like the red on you.”
“Thank you,” she said, not looking up at him but not pulling her hands away. “I don’t like who I saw on that playback. Killing two helpless people, even if they were trying to bag you up and sell you off.”
“What else would I do with them? They worked with us for over a month, saw everything, spent time on the Triton.”
“What is there to see?” Ayan asked. “A bunch of refugees with guns, barely enough food from one day to the next and a few ships that need a lot of work. You could have sent them out into the wild, someone probably did that for you before, when you came up short on a hunt.”
Jake seemed momentarily stunned by the comment. “It never did,” he replied. “My old hunting career was completely different.”
“You told me that you did a lot of jobs where you didn’t think your targets deserved to be taken. People who weren’t even dangerous.”
Jake withdrew his hands from hers and sat up straight. “That’s over. I swore off that kind of living months ago.”
Ayan looked at him and shook her head. “I’m sorry, that was cheap. I’m just saying that you caused trouble where there was none, for no benefit.”
“I proved a point, and I know I’ll see results,” Jake insisted.
“Fine, let’s agree to disagree, because I won’t be convinced there wasn’t a bloodless way.”
“You did something similar.”
“Never, not even in my last life,” Ayan countered.
“Remember Pandem? The screw up we left behind? I left that decision up to you in the end and you were perfectly clear that he wasn’t welcome to come with us.”
“That was different,” Ayan said, angry that he would try to turn the conversation around. “He had a chance of survival, he could have gotten away, and he was a danger to everyone.”
“Like the two I killed yesterday. They were a cancer. They could have given other people ideas. I’m sure they weren’t the only people who work with us who are capable of an attempt at capturing me or one of my crew. There’s still one left to interrogate, you can do whatever you want with him. Maybe maroon him somewhere, too.”
Ayan stood and paced away from him, facing the red and brown sheeted bed. She was so angry with him it was difficult to turn away from the fight that was brewing, and the silence thickened as she groped for something to say. Focusing on that bed brought something more important into focus. Something even more personal. “I wanted to do this with you,” Ayan said. “Build something new, a safe place for the people out there.”
“The island?” Jake asked. “That’s what that was?”
“It was a lot more, but it was that too. I think being away from you for so long,” Ayan paused to sigh. “I think I started believing you were Jonas instead of whoever you’ve become. He wouldn’t have executed two people, and I think he’d be excited about starting something new, about helping people.”
Jake shot up to his feet. “Jonas would have done exactly the same thing,” he roared.
“He’d kill those bastards and challenge the galaxy, then he’d tell you that you’re risking more than any of us can afford with this utopian dream of yours!”
“Do you really know him?” Ayan asked, whirling to face him. “I know you have his memories, but have you really considered what he would do?”
“I am him,” Jake said. “I was killed when those amateurs got me, and when I came back everything was connected. Better than before, perfect. I’m him and I’m what Jacob Valance became combined, there are no seams, there’s no questioning it, and I have never felt more confident, more whole. What you get is everything I can be, and I’m not going to let anyone, even you, tell me what some old shadow would have done in my place. It would be like me telling you that the first Ayan would have completely agreed with everything I did, and that you’ve --” Jake stopped.
Ayan was shocked at the intensity of his response and she couldn’t prevent tears from welling up; it was so frustrating. “ Gone soft,” she said. “I’m not her. You’re right. I don’t know who I am.”
Jake stepped forward, disarmed, intent on offering comfort but she put her hand up, stopping him from encircling her. His hands rested on her shoulders instead. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I like who you’re becoming.”
Ayan couldn’t even look at him. She already knew what he was having difficulty understanding. She wasn’t the former Ayan becoming someone else, she was someone else who had memories from the past Ayan. She learned from them, enjoyed them, but she had come to know that her priorities, even her thought processes, were different. How long would it take for her to make Jake understand? Was it worth it? “I was starting to like you too, and I know you’re different from Jonas, regardless of how you’re put together.” She wiped her eyes, and caught the pair of tears that had rolled free. “But we’re out of time, at least for now.”
Ayan looked up at him, finding an expression of surprise. “I need to follow through on the negotiations. The Carthans don’t even want to see you after yesterday, they don’t want you anywhere near their main government facilities. I just have to pick up the payment for the Enforcer, that’ll finalise everything. Then we can present Ashley to them and get the Triton back.”
Jake dropped his hands from her shoulders. “You’re going through with this island idea.”
“Yes,” she replied. “We need a home.”
“Regardless of where it is.”
“We need to fight too,” Ayan said. “I was hoping you’d be there, but that’s up to you.”
“It’s not a fight you can win,” Jake said.
“Then help me!” Ayan shouted. “Get all your riled up ragtags to line up between us and the Order of Eden, or harass whatever supply ships they have going until they pick another direction to advance in!”
“Getting people up in arms is one thing, but giving them orders? It’s like herding rim weasels.”
“Maybe we’ll use the Triton, if she’s fit enough,” Ayan said. “We’ll find a way, but start factoring us in.”
“Who says I’m not?”
“I can see it, Jake. You’re too busy telling me my idea won’t work to see that we can still work together. Pride can’t be a part of our decision making, there are too many lives to consider.”
“Pride?”
“Yes, pride. I didn’t think it would be a problem when you signed everything over to me. I was impressed, surprised, and I thought I was getting a glimpse at someone who wanted to make decisions for the greater good, but I’m not seeing him anymore.”
“That island is going to get thousands of people slaughtered,” Jake said. “That’s why I’m against it. Take cash instead, or food, or anything else.”
“There’s nothing else!” Ayan said. “They’re short on cash, short on food, they’re trying to rebuild their infrastructure, but their military force alone is bigger than you know. It demands more than you could know. Even our materialisers are breaking down. It shouldn’t be a mystery as to why we can’t find parts, because they are consuming all the repair components in the friendly parts of the sector. It’s land, that’s what they have to sweeten the deal with us, and they wanted to sweeten the deal because they didn’t want us to leave. That was before your childish public execution, now I’ll be happy to take what we can get.”
“Childish?” Jake asked, anger flaring.
“I was right beside you when Wheeler did the same thing to your old crewmembers,” Ayan said, regretting it the moment the words were in the air.
Jake closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Through his forced calm he said, “You’re going to sign ownership of the Samson back to me. We’ll get the Triton back, find Lewis, figure out a way to give someone else command codes. Then I’m taking Ashley and my people. We’ll go foraging, pirating, information gathering out there for you and your bright-eyed optimists. Hopefully we get to take shore leave on your island once before the Order slags the whole damned place.” He didn’t wait for her to get another word in, but turned and strode through the door.
Ayan could not believe how quickly the conversation spun out of control. She regretted attacking him using the worst examples she could think of, but was still so angry at him. Hot tears rolled down her face, and she became even more frustrated. There was so much left to do, so many things to take care of. There was no time for her to break down, but she couldn’t help it.
The whole argument felt like her fault, and she wished she could put his actions behind her, but they were impossible to ignore, especially because of the disappointing repercussions. She gave up on stopping the tears, and instead sat down. She brought up the command interface on her comm unit and, through tear blurred vision, returned ownership of the Samson to Jake. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the message before sending the notification.
Chapter 22
Messages From The Darkness
Larry was only aware that it was the beginning of the morning shift because his comm unit alerted him. The first thing he checked was the status of the Triton’s computer core. It began emerging from stasis and powering up the night before, and he was pleased to see that it was continuing to awaken normally. Everything else in that vault would start activating as well. There was nothing to do but wait.
Once the Crewcast system’s security stopped using a proxy system to mask who was logged on, Larry was able to use his copy of Frost’s ident to watch the crew. Grace, the only West Keeper Larry didn’t have to kill personally, made the copy and logged it into the system before Crewcast was installed, and it somehow got past Jason Everin’s checks. If Larry was to name Jason’s greatest flaw, it was that he took on too much himself. There was no way one man could track the actions of every crewmember, plan ahead, and catch people who knew how to get around security measures. People just like Larry.
He could see that there were twenty one messages from Ashley waiting on his personal account, but couldn’t open them. There was no telling who would see the activity, and he couldn’t afford to reveal that he was on Crewcast at all.
He watched as people came out of their worker suits, revealing themselves for the first time in weeks and rejoined with friends. He focused in on Agameg, Finn, Ashley, and Oz, specifically. They were who he missed most. Unfortunately, Ashley and Oz activated privacy mode during almost every conversation, and Larry wasn’t foolish enough to use Frost’s clearance to see what was going on; that was a sure way to get caught.
Agameg and Finn didn’t seem to care. They supervised the reconstruction of the Samson and did a great deal of work personally. The progress was fantastic. Power generation, the main structure, the exterior systems and interior control systems were almost finished. The interior was what required the most work. Living spaces were cramped for the officers, and the main cargo bay served as both berthing area and galley.
Most of the people in the settlement took their night off, but many who worked on the Samson worked through it, still riding the high of being able to do so without anonymity. It was the
project people were most excited about.
He watched most of it from the quarters he’d secured for himself, wishing he could be among them. Larry did his best not to get too settled in. Ashley had already made contact with the Triton, and the main computer had quietly begun rousing from stasis. Higher functions that were only briefly used in the ship’s history would become available, and he would have decisions to make.
Larry was watching Agameg and Finn run tests on the bridge of the Samson when his command and control unit screen went completely blank, something that he’d never seen happen before. The Triton skull appeared on screen with a rotating Q at the bottom left corner. He was so excited that he rolled off the bed onto his feet.
The two-tone symbol for citadel appeared then, white towers flanking a wall against black, and the scanners on his command unit activated. It was procedure: all Citadel transmissions were preceded by an area scan to ensure that no one was listening in. None of the Triton’s security systems were active outside of the inner sanctum of the main computer core.
The scan completed and an asexual, nondescript voice was projected from the unit to his ears, the Freeground version of privacy mode. To someone sitting right beside him, anything the unit vocalized would sound like a faint whisper. The voice he was hearing could belong to anyone as the person transmitting it was using an anonymizer.
“Sol Defence has released the Triton. She is a free ship,” said the person on the other end. “They are closing their borders, there will be no return to your home on Mars for at least a generation. Citadel sees this as a mistake. You must determine the disposition of the Triton’s main computer core and confirm that Sol Defence has not included any sensitive information with the update they just transmitted.”
“They’re annexing themselves,” Larry said.
“Yes. No returns to the Sol System,” replied the person on the other end. “Do you understand my instructions?”
“If I open the sanctum to access the core, I’ll be detected by security here. This assignment has become complicated.”
“We have been actively tracking you from a distance and are aware of your circumstances.” There was a pause before his superior continued. “Citadel has engaged a new enemy, but rest assured that we will still download the contents of your bio-recorder regularly. You should be proud of your success so far. We could not have wished for a better overseer on the Triton.”
Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework Page 16