by Scott Baron
“No, really, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”
It really is creepy when he just stares at you, she noticed as Barry paused, formulating a reply to her statement.
“My pleasure, Daisy. Please do not hesitate to ask if you need me,” he finally said.
She nodded and turned away from the odd cyborg, making her way down the passageway toward her quarters.
What does he actually do when we’re all sleeping? she wondered.
Back in her quarters Daisy did some quick math and made a decision.
There are still four inhibitors left, so I should be fine if I only pull a couple. One way or another, I need to process Sarah’s data, especially if Barry and Mal are sniffing around it. Something about this just doesn’t feel right.
The lid to the neuro-stim device slid off easier than usual as she gave it a now-practiced twist. The tiny inhibitor control switch stared at her, its solid red light daring her, tempting her to throw caution to the wind.
Okay, I’ll only disconnect two of them. That’ll leave two still running, which should be plenty.
She took a fine probe and depressed the left-hand inhibitor deactivation button for ten seconds until the light pulsed five times.
That’s one.
She repeated the process until the light slowly pulsed five times again, though this time it followed with a sixth, flickering pulse.
Huh, that’s new. Probably a warning light. Well, I’ve got two left, and even I am not foolish enough to remove those.
With the device ready, Daisy plugged in a new series of protocols that would help her understand Sarah’s work. It was a huge amount of information on top of the other things she had been trickle feeding herself, but it was critical she understand those readings. Nevertheless, she hesitated. It was a lot of data, but her only other options were letting Mal and Barry handle it—which would put the accuracy of the results in question in her mind—or learning the codes and processes the old-fashioned way, and that would take weeks, if not months. They simply didn’t have that much time.
She looked at the clock—2:17 am.
I’ll just put all of the feed’s focus on this new stuff and turn the others to their lowest settings. I just hope that gives me at least a little understanding of what she was talking about.
Daisy slipped the delicate neuro band around her head and sat on her bed.
Two for Tai Chi, two to learn chess, two for kung fu, two more for those hacking skills for Vince’s birthday surprise, and now two more so I can understand Sarah’s work. Ten inhibitors down, two remaining. Piece of cake, Daisy. Okay, time to do this.
She pushed the activation button on the device and swung her feet up onto the bed. It would take the neuro-stim a minute or so to begin gently nudging her mind, and then, if all went according to plan, she’d wake up several hours later, well-rested and able to understand Sarah’s notes enough to be of some real use to the ship.
Tai, Chi. Chess. Kung Fu. Hacking. Sarah’s work. All in all, not bad for an untrained tech. She’d been good about fiddling with the machine, despite what her friend had said about her recklessness.
Besides, tweaking the stupid thing was what let me finally sleep decently in the first place. Her eyes went wide. Shit! Two more for sleeping! That’s all twelve of them!
Daisy tried to snatch the deceivingly delicate-looking band from her head, but the now-inhibitor-free device had already taken hold. Her arms wouldn’t obey her commands, and a millisecond later, she was yanked under by the powerful machine.
She didn’t dream. At least not like she was used to. Huge amounts of information flooded her mind, her head feeling like a giant water balloon that kept filling closer to the bursting point while somehow remaining intact. Data flashed to the forefront of her awareness. In an instant, all of Sarah’s calculations make perfect sense. As if she’d been a fool for not seeing how simple they were sooner. But then that was washed away by the flash flood of other things. Things that shouldn’t even be in her mind. There was kung fu and Tai Chi, but they were only a fraction of the martial styles swirling in her head. The entire specification log of the Váli pulsed over her awareness, and she realized she knew the ship down to every last wire. But there was more. Ships she had never seen. Ships that didn’t even exist. Fighters and destroyers, tankers and transports. Experimental recon ships, and devious war machines, all tumbled in her brain.
I… what is—
Bursts of foreign tongues were clear as the spoken word. Machine language made sense deep in her bones. She felt as if her mind would explode from the strain, and she didn’t know if she could take much more of it. Daisy’s mind had been a slow-filling vessel her entire life, absorbing more and more data every second of her existence, but now she saw the past, and strained to see the future, and at that moment, she felt her sanity on the edge.
No more!
Somehow, she forced her mind to stop, and miraculously, the information deluge ceased.
Daisy rolled to the side of her bed and threw up a thin stream of half-digested cocoa.
At least I missed my shoes, she thought grimly, amused that she had not only avoided going mad, but had also retained her sense of humor.
Slowly, her body aching as if she’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champion, she sat up and pulled the band from her sweaty brow. Her head throbbed, but the endless expanse of unrelenting data was gone. She looked at the clock on the wall.
2:30 a.m.
She had been under for just thirteen minutes.
Daisy swung to her feet and stood, wobbling unsteadily in her quarters. The pounding in her head was growing. Intense. Like she’d had her skull pried open by a number four cranial lavage kit, though how she even knew what that was remained a mystery.
A wave of pain sent her to her knees.
Shit, shit, shit. What did I do to myself? I need Vince.
Ignoring her shoes, Daisy staggered to her double door and managed to key the mechanism despite her mildly doubled vision. In the passageway, she kept one hand on the wall for balance as she slowly stumbled toward Vince’s quarters.
He’s probably still up watching a movie. God, he’s going to be so pissed.
Voices rumbled through the ship, distracting her from her path.
What? Who’s that chattering?
She followed the sound until she was standing outside a thick set of doors.
How did I wind up at Command? she wondered, then cycled the doors open. Gustavo sat alone in his chair, a pair of dense data cables protruding from the back of his head as he monitored the ship and the space around it.
“Oh shit, I didn’t hear you come in!” He said, jolting at the sight of Daisy.
He popped the cables from his head, the static-filled noise filling the pod.
“Sorry, my bad,” he said, reaching for the volume controls.
“No, wait a second,” Daisy said. “What are they saying?” The words were strange, but almost made sense. She noticed Gus looking at her strangely.
“What?”
“That’s solar radio chatter, Daisy. It’s not people. Just noise blasting past us as we get closer to Earth. It’s kind of soothing, so I sometimes listen to it when the captain’s not around.”
“Oh. I guess I must’ve been hearing things.”
“You okay?” he asked, concern showing in his lone human eye.
“Yeah, just slept really poorly and wanted to get some air. Thought a walk might help. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Night, Gus.”
“Good night, Daisy. Hope you sleep better.”
She exited Command and started back toward her quarters.
Oh man, what did I do? Am I having a schizoid embolism or something?
As she walked, her body slowly began to feel more and more her own, and the persistent fogginess began to lift, but as it faded, it was replaced with something just as upsetting.
A creeping paranoia.
Great, now I’m freaking out over, over what? I don’t even know
. Come on Daisy, pull it together. You’re okay. Everything is fine. At least I think it is, so long as I don’t suddenly start telling myself to get my ass to Mars.
She neared Vincent’s door, but a strange thing happened, though given the events of the past hour, it was probably one of the least strange things of the evening. As Daisy put her mind to it, she felt a surge of excitement as she realized she had retained an understanding of Sarah’s work.
She passed right by Vince’s pod and hurried down the passageway back to her quarters, clinging to the nascent clarity, afraid the flash of understanding might abandon her at any moment.
A few minutes later she was comfortably propped up on her bunk, scrolling through the reams of data stored in both Sarah’s tablet and portable scanner. The information made sense, and it corroborated between both devices. Validation from two separate non-AI units. Daisy began jotting down notes as fast as she was able. Sleep was no longer a concern, only finishing her analysis before the knowledge she had acquired so recently could slip from her grasp.
Data confirms it. Given the parts per million of oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide, taking into consideration the pressure fluctuations between individual pods, levels, and even the Narrows, we most definitely have a slow leak somewhere on board. Likely the main deck by the look of things.
She sat up and cracked her neck. Hours had passed hunched over the readouts and notes, but she had finally put it all together. A smile spread across her face.
Okay, then. So, based on the amount of oxygen still in the ship, and compensating for off-gassing from Tamara’s plant life, taking those factors combined with the slow leak we still haven’t found and the remaining eight crewmembers consuming oxygen given their individual biological mass, minus that of their inorganic components, it looks like we should have enough to make it to Earth orbit without significant issues.
She paused, mid-thought, and stared in shock at the numbers on her screen. A realization hit her solidly in the gut.
“This can’t be right,” she gasped in disbelief. “No way. No fucking way.”
She checked and re-checked her data, re-ran her calculations, then did it again, but the results were the same. Based on the physiological profiles of the men and women on board and the percentages of their bodies that were mechanical, a very specific rate of oxygen consumption was a known fact. The calculations she stared at were correct, only something was wrong.
“There’s too much oxygen for this crew,” she realized with horror. “Someone’s not using enough oxygen. Someone besides Barry is a cyborg.”
Chapter Thirteen
Daisy walked down the passageway toward the galley in a daze, which was really saying something, given she had a full load of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She hadn’t slept a wink that night, and after her revelation, she wondered if she ever would again.
Another cyborg.
There was no way Mal wasn’t aware. Something that big couldn’t slip by her, and prior to the accident knocking systems offline, the powerful AI continuously monitored vital signs of the entire crew. And Barry? It seemed only logical that he would recognize one of his own kind.
That meant the two AIs were hiding the existence of another artificial person from the rest of the crew, and that put Daisy dangerously on edge.
“Are you all right, Daisy? I sense an elevated blood pressure,” Mal commented, as if reading her thoughts. Daisy jumped in surprise but quickly composed herself.
“I’m fine, Mal, just still stressed out with what happened to Sarah,” Daisy replied to the disembodied voice.
And if you knew Sarah was on to you, was that really an accident? The possibilities whipping around in her mind were horrifying.
“Perhaps you should talk to Doctor McClain, Daisy. She is a skilled psychologist and is very good at her job.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I can schedule a session for you, if you wish.”
“No, thanks. I’ll handle that myself if I feel I need it, but thank you, Mal.”
That’s right. Act normal, and keep on her good side until you know what’s up.
Daisy reached her destination and cycled open the galley’s double doors, only to be greeted by the unexpected, yet welcome, smell of fresh brownies wafting in the air.
Oh yeah, I promised Gus I’d wrangle him up some brownies. Good old Finn. At least I’ve got one more definite human on my side.
“Hey, Daze,” Finn called across the galley. “So, about those brownies. I was saving my secret stash of chocolate chips for a final homecoming treat. You know how Mal can be about repurposing the organics replicator for non-staple food items and all, but when you mentioned baking, well, I thought given the last few days, we could all use a treat right about now, so I kind of made a bigger batch,” he said, offering her a warm brownie from the tray.
Finn’s obviously human. I saw his fingers come off. Down to the bone. I saw him bleed.
“Thanks, Finn,” she replied, her expression carefully neutral-pleasant as she slowly chewed, savoring the chocolate as it melted on her tongue.
Okay, let’s work this through. It’s obviously not me or Vince, and it’s not Finn. But if not him, then who?
She pulled up a seat to think. Think and observe as the others slowly filtered through the galley.
The airlock door cycled a few minutes later as Captain Harkaway stepped into the compartment, his heavy, metal leg impacting slightly harder than his flesh one as he walked.
“Engines at eighty-seven percent optimization, Captain,” the ship’s AI informed him.
“Thank you, Mal. Let me know when they’ve cycled back to the mid-nineties.”
“My pleasure, Captain.”
‘My pleasure’ again? What’s with this computer? She’s been acting weird lately. Using more personal sentence structure. Like she’s trying to be, well, a person. Damn thing is creeping me out.
She watched the captain as he walked toward her. He may have had an older replacement leg, but Daisy had seen his records and had noticed him wiping a bloody nose on several occasions when the ship’s air humidifier had problems a few weeks prior. The dry air gave him nosebleeds for days before they got it back operating at full-efficiency.
Cyborgs don’t get nosebleeds.
Obviously not the captain, she noted. Though I don’t know how much I can trust him yet.
“Thought you’d be here,” he said, approaching her table.
Or maybe Mal told you. She kept the thought to herself.
“How are you holding up, Daisy?” he asked.
“As well as can be expected, Captain.”
“I know it’s tough on you, and if your work weren’t so necessary, I’d just tell you to take a few days to get your head clear. Unfortunately, we don’t have that luxury, and I want you to know I appreciate the effort you’re making.” He paused and sized her up, apparently pleased with what he saw. “So what about the air supply issue and those problematic systems? Any progress?”
“Some, Captain, but I’m concerned. It may be nothing, but as I scan back in the logs, it seems a great many of the ship’s systems have been acting glitchy since we woke up.”
“I’ve noticed that as well, and it worries me that there may be issues unrelated to our initial impact.”
Daisy nodded in agreement.
“Captain, I have to ask you. Have you come across anything unusual in our systems?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I guess, anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small. Something that might help explain why things are buggy?”
“You’re the chief electronics expert now, Daisy. I leave that to you. But since you mention it, the ship does seem to be having more out-of-parameter power fluctuations as we get closer to Earth. Gustavo noticed it as well the other night when he was double-checking our course. You have a theory?”
“I’m not sure. Let me dig a little more, and I’ll be sure to let you know if I
find anything.”
“Do. We can’t afford any more problems with the Váli before we reach the moon. We’re too damn close for Murphy to start messing things up for us with his stupid law.”
Harkaway walked over to the kitchen counter and surveyed the still-warm treats.
“Thanks, Finn,” the captain said, grabbing a brownie off the plate and heading back to Command.
Daisy repositioned herself at a table facing the main doors and settled in. She had food, and she had notes and busy-work in front of her, and to anyone observing, that was what was occupying her time. In reality, she was far more interested in the men and women of the crew than the work on the table or the food on her plate.
Shortly after the captain departed, Gustavo and Reggie both made their way to the galley.
“I hear there are brownies in here!”
Gus and Reg swarmed Finn’s workspace.
“Hey, don’t crowd, guys. I made enough for everyone.” Finn slid another steaming batch onto the half-full plate on the counter.
“Oh my God, these are amazing. You’re the man, Finn!” Reggie said through a mouthful of melting chocolate joy.
Metal hand and some artificial organs from what I hear, but with an appetite like that, he’s got to be human. Even a cyborg would have a hard time processing the amount of food that guy puts away.
Daisy tentatively checked Reggie off her mental list and put him in the ‘unlikely’ column. Gustavo, well, she wasn’t so sure about him. The extensive work he’d had done, both internally and externally, made her uneasy. The fact that he had access jacks built into his head, well, that also seemed obviously more machine than human. Still, he was her friend. At least as much as a half-machine man could be, she supposed. It was that damn mechanical eye. It always put her on edge and made her wonder just how much of the real Gustavo was inside that metal-enhanced skull.
Mark Gus as a ‘maybe,’ then.
“Hey, babe!” Vince called out when he walked in twenty minutes later. He grabbed a mug of piping-hot coffee and a few brownies, then sidled over to join her. “How’s my girl?” he asked, leaning in to give her a kiss.