Entanglement Bound: An Epic Space Opera Series (Entangled Universe Book 1)

by Mary E. Lowd

  "Wisper, I delayed my scientists from pursuing your hired vessel for as long as I could. They are very protective of Project Aether Gaia and could be delayed no longer. After the unfortunate attack from Hercules on your hired vessel, I waited to ascertain that all life signs had abandoned the hired vessel. Then I fed my scientists false readings, convincing them your hired vessel had been an automated terrorist attack. They have no idea anyone has boarded Cassiopeia. They no longer know you are here at all. The loss of the hired vehicle is regrettable, please pass on my condolences to its owners."

  If Wisper 2 were more than a voice in her mind—if she had a neck like Wisper 1's silver-and-blue metal neck—Clarity would have found a way to reach out and throttle it, regardless of how useless that gesture would be on a robot who didn't breathe.

  Clarity had no use for condolences, especially from an AI who had directed a group of scientists to destroy her home. Clarity felt like a cash bonus in the form of twice as many credits would be more in order than mere condolences. Then she imagined trying to buy a new Solar III Class vessel—missing all the minor adjustments and modifications she and Irohann had made over the years; missing her menagerie of toys and dolls from all the worlds they'd visited; missing the sensation of memories being imbued into the architecture of the vessel from all the years she'd spent living in it.

  A great bleakness washed over Clarity, and Cassiopeia's belly fin rippled in nervous empathy.

  "Please lay low and wait three hours. Then once all of my excitable scientists settle down and I can divert their attention, I will reopen the force field for you and Cassiopeia to effect your escape. Godspeed to you all."

  Did robots believe in god? Did AIs? In the face of her current heartbreak, did Clarity?

  Cassiopeia chimed in with a fervent belief in her own creators, but that wasn't really fair, since her creators were literally in front of them—humans inside a boxy vessel, flying back to their base on the pear-shaped asteroid. There was no question as to whether Cassiopeia's creators existed. They were also The Serendipity's destroyers.

  Of course, none of that was the real question. The real question was: what the hell was Wisper such that she was inside a stolen robot inside Cassiopeia and also running a secret science base where Wespirtech scientists bred living spaceships in the outreaches of Eridani 7?

  "Maybe Wisper is God," Cassiopeia suggested, all childlike innocence and sweetness.

  Clarity didn't think so. She did think it was time to separate her mind from Cassiopeia's for a while. There were thoughts she wanted to think, ideas she wanted to examine, without an eager space whale swimming through her thoughts while she did so.

  Cassiopeia's belly fin quivered, the emotional equivalent of a child about to cry. So, Clarity sent her comforting, hug-like thoughts about how glad she was to have met her. She didn't have to fake those—she didn't know if Cassie would be able to sense that level of deception, but she was grateful not having to attempt it. Clarity was genuinely glad to have experienced this bond with Cassiopeia. In all her travels with Irohann, she'd never felt anything else even slightly like it.

  "But don't you want me to check on Roscoe?" Clarity asked Cassie. "Don't you still want to bond with him?"

  The words, "bunny, bunny, bunny," chased themselves around Clarity and Cassiopeia's shared consciousness like a reverent whisper.

  "That's right, Cassie," Clarity said. "Bunny."

  And with that, she felt the sucker disks smooch off her face and skull. Her consciousness shrank back down to human-sized. It felt small and cramped at first. Then she rolled her neck to the side, shifted her shoulders, wiggled her fingers, and was glad to be back inside her body, and only her body.

  On the screens inset around Cassiopeia's cockpit, Clarity saw images of bunnies, mixed in with the views of Hercules still stabbing The Serendipity and also interior views—which were a little creepy. She was almost certain that Jeko and Am-lei didn't know she could see them right now—Jeko's long nose wrapped tenderly around Am-lei's thorax, and Am-lei's long twiggy legs folded up as she nestled on Jeko's broad, calico aproned lap. This was a private moment of affection, not meant to be shared through vid screen with a random human, robot, and swarm alien in Cassiopeia's cockpit.

  Clarity would need to have something done about this onboard surveillance system. Though on second thought, it wasn't necessarily her problem. She and Irohann could still get into their spacesuits, get dropped off in the middle of the clearing, and jet their way over to the base on the pear-shaped asteroid.

  Assuming Stabby Hercules didn't stab them on the way.

  Clarity drew a deep breath and climbed out of Cassie's creepy captain's chair. Wisper offered her a metal hand, but Clarity didn't feel like taking help from Wisper right now. She still hadn't entirely ruled out turning Wisper in to the Wespirtech Extension base.

  She had three hours to decide.

  The robot eagerly asked, "Was there a message for me? What happened?"

  "You mean, a message from yourself," Clarity said archly, stumbling away from the dimpled mound of a captain's chair. She took a look at the wall of computer screens and shuddered as she remembered, once again, how it had felt for the scientists to essentially staple them into Cassiopeia's skin. These poor starwhals. Clarity wanted to free them all.

  She also wanted out of Cassiopeia's view. She knew from having melded with Cassie's mind that the starwhal could sense everything happening aboard her, but she couldn't see or hear as well in her long vein-like hallways as she could in the ventricle-like chambers where the scientists had installed video surveillance.

  Clarity pulled herself together and headed for the nearest vein entrance. "I have your message," she said to Wisper, not bothering to look back or slow down. Wisper would follow her if she wanted to hear the message. "But before I tell you anything, you're going to give me some answers."

  Wisper's metal feet didn't clank in the hallways here. But she said from behind in her humming voice, "Your vessel was never meant to be damaged."

  "I know," Clarity snapped, picking up her pace, pounding her way down the curving vein. "Your other self already sent along her condolences."

  "Are you looking for something?" Wisper asked.

  Clarity was. She was looking for Irohann, but her feet slowed as she realized it. She was used to asking Irohann what to do, following his lead. But Irohann hadn't melded his consciousness with Cassie. He hadn't watched the weird interactions between Wisper and those two roboticists—Gerangelo the robot and Maradia from Wespirtech. He hadn't listened to the smooth, cultured voice tell her that it was Wisper too.

  And he had never loved The Serendipity as she had.

  For once, Clarity didn't want to ask Irohann what he wanted to do. She wanted to decide this one herself.

  Clarity whirled on her heel and faced Wisper. She stared at her own reflection, small and human, inside Wisper's glassy eyes. She also saw the dark purple of Cassie's vein-like hall reflected all around her. Surrounding her, even though their minds were disconnected now.

  Clarity reached out, laid her hand against Cassie’s muscular flesh, and took comfort in feeling the gentle pulsing, like breath, like heartbeat, but neither. She already loved this spaceship, but not in the way she'd loved The Serendipity. How could she not love a starwhal obsessed with bunnies?

  Clarity surprised herself with her first question, "Can the computers, the electronics—everything the scientists have done to Cassie—can it all be removed?"

  "Yes," Wisper answered. "But it would be cruel."

  "How would it be cruel? She's wired up like an experiment!"

  "She's wired up like Stephen Hawking," Wisper said. Then she added, "That's too obscure—he was a famous scientist on Ancient Earth who suffered from motor neurone disease; he couldn't have communicated without the help of computers."

  "Starwhals talk to each other, don't they? Without computers, right?"

  "There is debate among scientists regarding that possibility." W
isper sounded awfully coy for a robot.

  "What about between non-scientists?" Clarity asked. "Do they think starwhals talk to each other?"

  "I wouldn't know," Wisper said. "They don't write academic articles about what they think."

  Clarity rolled her eyes.

  "Regardless," Wisper continued. "That's not the kind of communication Cassie has been raised with. She's been raised by scientists feeding videos of cute animals directly into her brain. I'm sure you've encountered her fondness for bunnies."

  "That's so messed up," Clarity said.

  "I'm certainly open to debating the ethics of what this particular Wespirtech team is up to—but I'd rather do it at another time. Perhaps after you've shared the message you're keeping from me?"

  It looked like it was killing Wisper to be so dependent on a human interfacing with her chosen spaceship. Roscoe had already let her down. "Why did you pick Cassie?" Clarity asked.

  "She's the smartest starwhal the Aether Gaia project has developed, and she has trouble getting along with the other starwhals. I thought it would be a kindness to pick her for this mission, especially when I ran across Roscoe's records on Crossroads Station. I knew it would be love at first sight for her when she met him. It is unfortunate he didn't feel the same."

  "That's not—" Clarity started. "I mean, why are you stealing an Aether Gaia starwhal when you could just steal—or buy—a ship you could fly yourself?"

  "Where I'm going, electronics won't work."

  "You're electronics," Clarity pointed out.

  "Yes," Wisper agreed. If glass camera lens eyes could look bleak, Wisper's certainly did.

  "You're going somewhere you won't work?" Clarity asked. "Somewhere that will destroy you? Why?"

  After a long moment, Wisper said, "To save the universe from swallowing itself."

  12 Discussions in the Belly of the Beast

  Clarity was still staring into the reflections in Wisper's glassy eyes when Irohann grabbed her shoulders from behind. "I've been looking for you. This spaceship is a maze."

  "This spaceship is a captured child," Clarity responded, facing Irohann, trying to decide if she believed Wisper. Heaven help her, she did. She believed this strange, secretive robot was telling the truth. And even if Wisper were lying, Clarity wanted to help Cassie escape from this asteroid field science lab.

  "The Serendipity has been destroyed," Clarity said to Irohann. "We're going to travel with Wisper's team for a while. Roscoe isn't feeling well enough to pilot for her, so I'm taking on his duties. For now."

  Irohann's ears didn't flick—they were already held at half mast. His tail didn't twitch or swish. He held very still, and then finally nodded. He held out her duffle bag which he'd been holding at his side. "I thought you'd want this. I stowed our spacesuits in a... closet? vesicle? Some kind of chamber near the airlock."

  Impatiently, Wisper broke in: "My message? Does this mean you'll finally tell me my message?"

  Clarity turned back to face Wisper. "Three hours. The force field will go down again in three hours, and I'll pilot us out. Also, the local Wisper said to pass along condolences for the destroyed vessel..." She paused a moment, and decided to go for it. "And also that you should pay for a replacement."

  "I believe half of that," Wisper said.

  "It was worth a try." Clarity took one of Irohann's paws. "Come on, I saw some kind of terrifying scullery when I was exploring earlier. And since I was expecting to be dining in a space station cafe by now, I think it's time to figure out what kind of food the mad Wespirtech scientists have set up for us in here. Then we should see if we can find quarters or something..."

  "I helped Jeko and Am-lei set up their cargo crate in something that seemed kind of like quarters," Irohann said.

  Clarity blushed remembering the intimate view she'd had of Jeko and Am-lei in those quarters. "Have you seen Roscoe?"

  "No," Irohann said.

  Clarity looked over her shoulder and called, "Wisper, you may not need to eat, but you're still coming with us. I haven't gotten all of my answers yet."

  "I know the layout here," Wisper said, edging her way past Clarity and Irohann in the narrow vein-like hall. "I can lead you to the scullery."

  Clarity and Irohann followed Wisper through the twisting vein spiraling downward. The supple quality of the deep purple walls and floor muffled the sound of any footsteps and even seemed to absorb their voices when they spoke, eliminating any echoes. Instead of those stray sounds, there was an omnipresent white noise aboard Cassiopeia. When Clarity listened closely, it reminded her of Cassie's cello-like voice—deep resonant strands of twang and song, like an orchestra tuning, always around the next corner. Muffled but musical.

  Clarity didn't feel like she was in space. She felt more like she was deep underground. It was the lack of windows, partly. Also the deep, resonant sounds of white noise. The Serendipity had been quieter.

  Wisper led them to Cassiopeia's scullery and showed them the facilities—a fully stocked food synthesizer had been wired right into Cassie's flesh; raised ridges along the floor worked as tables and benches; and a bank of udders on the wall dispensed a golden milky substance that made Clarity shudder. Cassiopeia had been bred to be a workhorse and a cow.

  Clarity wasn't ready to try starwhal milk, so she scanned through the recipes loaded into the food synthesizer. She found a familiar, standard setting and punched it in. The food synthesizer rewarded her with a lumpy casserole of gooey orange and chewy white. It was kind of like macaroni and cheese—easy comfort food. That was what Clarity needed right now. She found some pre-synthesized utensils in one of the synthesizer's drawers.

  Irohann ordered himself a lump of dense beefy protein to gnaw on. They both sat down on one of the ridges to eat.

  Clarity wondered if Cassie was watching them, trying to listen. She wondered how well Cassie could understand them without being plugged into a human mind.

  "Tell me about our mission," Clarity said.

  "Our mission?" Irohann swallowed a big lump of protein. "I thought we were only tagging along for a while."

  "Maybe," Clarity said. "It sounds like an important mission, and I think they might need us." She looked up at Wisper, who was standing awkwardly by the bank of udders, and gestured impatiently for the robot to sit down. "Your carefully assembled team doesn't seem to be entirely onboard with their mission."

  Wisper took a seat, her metal body settling onto the fleshy bench. "I admit I may have miscalculated in not telling Roscoe exactly what kind of ship he would be piloting."

  "Ya think?" Clarity took a big bite of mac and cheese. It soothed her nerves. "So what else haven't you told your team?" she asked when she finished chewing. "What else is gonna come bite you on the ass?"

  "I told each member what they needed to know," Wisper said. "I told them what would convince them to come."

  "Well, they came," Clarity said. "Now you're going to need them to perform the duties you brought them for. I mean, I can take over as pilot for Roscoe—for now. But neither Irohann nor I can help you with gravitational physics if Am-lei decides to bail on you. And I have no idea what role Mazillion is supposed to play, but whatever they can do, I don't think any of the rest of us would be any good at it."

  "Why do we care?" Irohann said. "Why don't we pilot out of here and have Wisper drop us off as soon as Roscoe's up to piloting?"

  Clarity gestured with a forkful of gooey, lumpy casserole. "The robot claims—what was it?—the universe will swallow itself if she doesn't complete her mission. I don't want to be swallowed."

  Irohann's ears flattened, and he went back to gnawing on his beefy protein. Clarity had taken charge, and for now, at least, it seemed Irohann would let her continue that way.

  Wisper said, "I told you, back on Crossroads Station, about the pulsar and the black hole—Merlin and the Devil's Radio—remember?"

  "Sure," Clarity said. "How could I forget a cool name like 'The Devil's Radio'?"

  "The Merlin Project
scientists were studying entangled particles." Wisper stopped, seeming to consider what to say. "I could spend hours telling you about their studies—their hopes for the project. But what matters is that it went wrong. At the core, the Merlin Project involved taking pairs of bound particles that sprang into existence at the very edge of the event horizon of a black hole—specifically, the Devil's Radio—and separating those particles. One particle would be trapped forever inside the Devil's Radio; the other taken to the Wespirtech Extension Base orbiting the pulsar Merlin."

  Clarity was coming to have doubts about the phrase "Wespirtech Extension." It seemed like a whole lot of crimes could be committed under the cover of that term, and perhaps it was better to keep the mad science more closely watched, clustered together at Wespirtech itself. As a lay person, at least she had heard of Wespirtech. She'd never heard of them having extension bases or campuses until today, and so far, each of the ones she'd heard about was causing a lot of trouble. It was hard for the general public to keep an eye on research the scientists were keeping secret.

  "Isn't science about openness?" Clarity asked, interrupting Wisper's explanations. "I mean, isn't science supposed to be repeatable? And isn't that harder if it's being kept secret at all these extension bases?"

  "Possibly," Wisper admitted. "I'll admit I've been having my doubts about the secrecy surrounding Project Merlin ever since the EM pulse shut the base down."

  "So you're going to another secret base, not a stranded spaceship?" Irohann said. "That part was a lie?"

  "Yes."

  "Are we trying to save a bunch of scientists stranded on this base?" Clarity asked. "Or was that part a lie too?"

  "We are trying to save all the scientists." Wisper's humming voice took on a fervent tone.

  "Yes, right, all the scientists in the entire universe," Clarity said. "I get that. But are there any scientists actually waiting for us on this Merlin base?"

  "No," Wisper said. "Everyone was killed by the gravity distortions accompanying the EM blast. I was the only survivor, and I only survived in part—I uploaded subsets of my program to the nearest satellite and bounced from one vessel to the next across space until I got to Crossroads Station. But there wasn't room to save all of my program."