by Ann Aguirre
It felt surreal to activate the alarm on her habitat, aware that she had no surety of returning. Everything that mattered, she had with her, either by her side or in her pack, including chemical lights. Helix carried most of it, including the bag full of Aevi’s favorite toys. Maybe it was silly to bring them, but it seemed cruel to drag the Pherzul away from the only life she’d known without attempting to soften the blow.
Qalu managed not to look back as they walked away. She hadn’t shared the meeting point coordinates with Helix, still half-afraid that he would attempt some selfless gesture and sneak away as they slept. From what she knew of him, such an action would be consistent with his nature. They walked in silence, deeper into the wilderness, until the twin suns rose, brightening the sky to fearful heat.
This wasn’t the best time for an overland journey, but at least the daylight hours were short. They sipped their water and rested often, pushing onward as the suns dropped. The darktides were long, offering plenty of concealment to cover their escape. With any luck, they’d be off Tiralan before anyone noticed they had left.
“Should we sleep?” Helix asked eventually.
They had been walking at a slow but steady pace for a full light cycle and most of the darktide. Qalu glanced up at the sky. “I think so. It’s best to rest while it’s bright. Easier to move when the suns are down.”
They had no outdoor gear to speak of, just food, water, and their swators. She’d thought procuring such items would raise red flags, so they ate nutrition cubes and sipped their water. Afterward, they huddled together, leaning in for warmth with Aevi curled into Qalu’s chest, chirping her contentment. It was so easy to be a Pherzul. Her belly was full and she’d treated the trek like the promised adventure, scampering here and there to investigate new sights and smells while Qalu constantly checked behind them for any signs of pursuit. Helix was tense too and he must be weary from porting their packs, but he didn’t complain.
“Are you sore?” she whispered, not wanting to wake Aevi.
“Is that the word? Yes, I think so. It’s not as strong as the pain from before, but…”
“You’re not used to hauling heavy things. It’s muscle fatigue. Turn around.”
She took comfort in the swift way he obliged, as if he trusted her that much. While her knowledge was basic, she applied pressure where it ought to relieve the strain. Press and release, down the smooth muscles of his back and shoulders. Don’t think about how attractive he is. This is a medical treatment. But she wasn’t a doctor, and he was beautiful. Even in the dark, he shimmered with it, and she closed her eyes against his allure.
“Incredible,” he said softly. “You keep teaching me lovely things about this body.”
His head tendrils fluttered, as if even this innocent touch might be arousing him. And that possibility stirred her as well. Her own tendrils quivered, flowing toward his, but she didn’t let them make contact. With effort, Qalu pulled away.
“If you exceed your normal range of activity, there may be discomfort,” she said, taking refuge in instruction. “But once it passes, you may find that you’re stronger and have more endurance.”
“So surpassing my limits could be considered a worthwhile endeavor.”
“Just don’t push too much or you’ll suffer for it.”
“Understood.”
She didn’t expect to sleep, as they were pitifully short of creature comforts, but eventually she dozed. When she woke, she found Helix wrapped around her from behind, sheltering her as she was holding Aevi. Though she knew she should pull away, she savored these moments. They hadn’t been curled like this when she drifted off, so it must have happened as they slept.
Even when he’s unaware, he reaches for me.
That shouldn’t please her so much. Gods knew that she shouldn’t encourage it. Once they had other people to bear them company, she ought to encourage him to make multiple connections—to enrich himself socially. Once he had options—and there would surely be lots of interested parties—he could make a more educated decision regarding intimate matters. Someone else would be a better choice, someone who hadn’t been involved in his transition from a more esoteric existence.
Reason asserted all these things, but her heart might break when he chose someone else to share all his important moments.
[ 10 ]
The supplies ran out on the sixth darktide.
Helix had some sense that they must have arrived early, but Qalu didn’t tell him precisely when their contact was arriving. They were both cold, uncomfortable, and dirty, and he could tell she was scared as well. Yet she’d left her home without a second thought and walked away from the only life she’d ever known.
What am I supposed to do?
No answers were forthcoming.
The waiting tested his patience, and an unfamiliar emotion filled him. Helix had no name for this one, as it was sharp and strange, and he was ready to question whether she’d thought this course of action through when a fierce wind swept over them.
“They’re here,” she said, her voice airy with relief.
Of course, Qalu must have been scared and skeptical as well, doubting her own choices, the wisdom of believing in an unknown quantity. He wished he knew how to respond appropriately, but he could only pull her away from the landing site, as experience told him there would be a burn, even if the pilot was flying with engines on low, and they didn’t want to be caught in the burst.
Whoever was inside set down smoothly and Qalu grabbed Aevi, racing toward the small shuttle like their lives depended on it. Perhaps they did.
As Helix gathered their belongings, the hatch slid open. Nobody came out to greet them, a fact that filled him with misgiving. But Qalu boarded without hesitation, and if it wasn’t safe, she would need his protection.
I haven’t tested this body’s combat capabilities yet. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
As he stepped inside the shuttle, pain pierced his brain and he let out a horrendous sound, like his mouth had ruptured. Slices of memory tried to come, like they were cutting their way in, past flesh and bone. His vision went sideways and scenes superimposed. Gravas Station, he slid through the systems, reveling in the unfettered access. He wasn’t supposed to be there, but he had the entire station at his fingertips, the data streams silver and graceful, everything at his command. Klaxons, intrusion—
“Helix? Are you ill? With your permission, I’ll help you inside.”
Even now, she was requesting approval to touch him. He couldn’t get his eyes to focus, and he reached out with a forelimb. When she made contact, some of the knives left his brain, leaving him awash in tremors.
He felt too unsteady to walk on his own, so she supported him down a narrow corridor into the main part of the shuttle. She didn’t ask awkward questions at least, for he had no answers. Disjointed information was still swirling in his mind like water in a flood-swollen river, and he needed time to parse what he’d seen. Dazed, he took in the shuttle interior and realized it was similar to the one where he’d served as Zylar’s on-board AI.
A strange Barathi emerged from the cockpit, his colors vivid blue and green, swirled in attractive patterns. Zylar would have envied his physical appeal.
This one must be our pilot.
The Barathi offered a traditional greeting, but Helix lacked the energy to respond in kind, although he knew well how to be polite. He hated the fact that Qalu performed the greeting instead, then added the embellishment of Tiralan courtesy by inclining her body and fluttering her head tendrils. He recalled too well how good they felt sliding against his own.
“I am Qalu,” she said. “This is Helix. Thank you for extracting us.”
“This is what we do. I’m Praxys. Let’s skip the rest of the pleasantries until I get us off the ground. It wasn’t easy evading ship and satellite detection.”
“You must be an incredibly skilled pilot,” Qalu observed.
Her admiring tone recalled the sharp, awful feeling at t
he museum. Helix’s insides were full of fire, and he wanted to unleash violence on their rescuer, and that made no logical sense at all. In all honesty, he had no idea what these impulses required.
“Thanks. What’s wrong with Helix?”
“We didn’t have enough supplies. I think he’s weak from carrying our packs without sufficient energy and nutrition.”
“Understood. We’ll talk more once we’re out of Tiralan space.”
As Praxys went back the way he’d come, Qalu peered into Helix’s face, seeming worried. “Do you still feel dizzy? I think I have half a nutrition cube. Let me—”
“That’s not it,” he cut in.
Truthfully, hunger had him feeling hollow, but not to the point that he would stagger and require physical assistance.
“What then?”
“I remembered something.”
“Helix, that’s wonderful.”
He wasn’t so sure. What he’d seen answered no questions and only offered a whole host of new problems. “Qalu… I think I hacked Gravas Station.”
Her pleased expression faded into concern. “That…would explain why you have a bounty hunter on your trail. Do you have any idea why you did that?”
“I wish I knew. My only recollection after leaving Barath is of the data streams—” He stopped, baffled as to how to explain the difference, before and after. And as he analyzed his recollections, he realized—
That it wasn’t like he’d hacked the station. No, that word applied to his situation now. Back then…
“That’s not accurate,” he corrected. “It’s more like, I was Gravas Station.”
Qalu stilled. “You…replaced the station AI?”
“I don’t know. I think so.”
“But you’ve no idea why.”
So frustrating, but that information wouldn’t come. Only the glowing satisfaction of a seemingly infinite consciousness with countless peripherals at his command, making a hundred thousand decisions all at once. He could remember the rush of it, that delicious sense of absolute mastery.
Helix feared the answer. What if…
What if there were no reason? What if he’d done it simply because he wanted to, because he could. That would mean that organics were right to fear the caprices of an untethered AI, that the hunters should destroy him before he became something truly terrible, unfettered by kindness or conscience.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?” She honestly didn’t seem to know.
“Because I’ve ruined your life and perhaps one day you’ll regret—”
“No.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“I won’t either.”
“Let me finish, or regret anything?”
“Both. I will never regret saving you or coming away with you. You haven’t ruined my life, only changed it. And maybe it needed a jolt. I’m not the sort to seek adventure, so it’s come looking for me instead.”
“Put me down,” Aevi demanded suddenly.
She had been napping in one of the packs, but she scrambled out and ran down Helix’s side like he existed for her convenience—the magic of Pherzuls.
Aevi sniffed around and then dashed away down the corridor. Qalu would probably have chased her, but just then the shuttle jolted and Helix steadied her automatically, dropping everything they owned with a thud to choose her instead. There was, perhaps, a buried truth in that instinctive reaction, but he didn’t delve after it. Helix was wary of his own mind now, of what he might find concealed like a weapon.
Wearily she leaned against him a little and he took an absurd amount of pleasure in that. This beauty wasn’t something that could have been described to him in his prior incarnation. Before, he hadn’t understood Zylar’s obsession with Beryl at all, but if his friend felt even a fraction of this when he touched his Intended, well, he required no explanation any longer.
“Do you suppose Aevi’s all right? She’s never been on a ship before.”
He suspected the little one would cause trouble, but nothing too dire. “She’s fine.”
“I hope so.”
“I don’t understand,” he said softly.
“What?”
“Why you’re so good to me. I have nothing to offer apart from difficulty. I can’t even keep to the original terms of our agreement now.” At her blank look, he added, “I was supposed to serve as your suitor, pacify your mothers with my presence.”
“All biological beings change,” Qalu said. “I can’t say I was expecting our current situation, and I am a bit sad that I’ll never present my work to the scientific coalition on Tiralan, but you’re so much more to me than a project.”
“Am I?”
Qalu didn’t respond to that. Her look shifted, becoming more severe. Her head tendrils swayed, underscoring her mood. “Don’t mention what you told me about Gravas Station. I believe you didn’t have bad intentions. I’m sure you had a good reason, but they don’t know you yet. It’s better not to instill doubt at this juncture.”
She’d keep secrets from our saviors? For me. A complicated mix of emotions swelled within him, and he couldn’t manage them at all. Footfalls announced the Barathi’s arrival before the hatch slid open. “We’re docking with the main ship now. Hope the departure wasn’t too rough. Relax and prepare to meet the rest of the crew.”
Helix had taken over Gravas Station.
Though what Qalu had said was true, she did believe there must have been a reason, the revelation of what he’d done still circled in her head, leaving shades of doubt. How much do I know about him? Probably she was simply unsettled because the last seven darktides had been fearful and chaotic, upending her life utterly. Aevi dashed back to her and bounded into her arms, tucking her face against Qalu’s neck.
“There’s nothing bad here,” she said. “Nothing good either. But they wouldn’t let me on the big ship without you. So rude! I asked politely, I did, but they still said no. They’re wrong, I would not go all over the floor.”
“They don’t know how clever you are,” she said, an automatic reassurance with her mind elsewhere. “They’ll soon learn.”
“You have a Pherzul,” Praxys said. He had been chasing Aevi and doubled back when she passed him. “Their bites are quite venomous.”
The Barathi gave Aevi a wide berth, edging farther away when she bared her little fangs. She lashed her tail, a sure sign that she was angry, probably offended by the lack of hospitality. Aevi hated feeling lesser than her bipedal counterparts, justifiably so.
“A bite wouldn’t kill you,” Aevi told Praxys. “But it will hurt a lot, so you should tell your friends to learn manners.”
“My friends?” The Barathi glanced at Qalu as if she could explain.
“I believe she tried to board on her own and was rebuffed.”
“Oh. I’ll tell them to make amends, then. Shall we?” Praxys flourished a claw, and as Qalu passed, his neck ruff frilled a little.
She didn’t know what that meant, but Helix made an angry sound behind her. She turned to find him shockingly close, not giving her any space at all. Puzzled, she navigated through to the inner doors where the shuttle had docked. Three others waited for them, all giving Aevi intense looks, and the Pherzul hissed at them in turn, showing her teeth in a display of dominance. It would be funny if Qalu didn’t know how seriously her small friend took such things.
“Introductions then. You already know I’m Praxys. Meet Maglan, Carow, and Bojak.” He indicated each with a sweeping claw.
Maglan was Tiralan, shimmering in silver tones, with a few scars marring otherwise smooth scales. The rest was obscured by a sizable swator, but it didn’t matter. Qalu made the traditional greeting, given back by Maglan, then she faced the next crew mate, another Barathi, this one bearing only one color, a muted yellow. By Barathi standards, Carow was homely, but seemed friendly enough. The last person made Qalu stare. She had never seen anything like this alien, not even in a documentary. Smooth skin, no scale
s or headtails, bulbous eyes, no claws, and fur scattered here and there.
“You have a human on board,” Helix said, sounding quite startled.
“I’m not really named Bojak,” the human said. “Long time ago, I made a joke and it just kind of stuck.”
“You’re called after a jest?” Qalu thought that sounded most unfair.
“There’s a program—oh, never mind. You wouldn’t get it anyway. Humor is half shared context and this translator…” As if on cue, the technology fritzed. “There it goes again. Bojak is fine. Nice to meet you.”
“The honor is mine.” Qalu had no idea how to greet one such as this; she turned to Helix for guidance, but he stayed quiet.
Either he didn’t know or he wasn’t currently inclined to be polite.
“We can talk more once we get back to base. Maglan, hide our tail. Carow, show our guests where they can freshen up. Bojak, see if you can appease the Pherzul. I don’t want her killing us.”
Qalu thought that was excessive, but Aevi lashed her tail, proving that she liked being viewed as dangerous and worthy of respect. The human-alien promptly hunkered down and waited; large eyes locked on Aevi.
“I owe you an apology. We were rude, and I should’ve known better. They treated me like a pet for ages. It’s not fun in the slightest. Will you forgive me?”
“You understand,” Aevi breathed.
“I do. I’d be honored to show you around the ship.”
To Qalu’s astonishment, Aevi sprinted for Bojak and climbed right up him, like she’d done it a thousand times before. The human stood carefully to avoid making her use her claws. “Right, we’re set then. I’ll answer all her questions and catch up with the rest of you later.”
“I’ve never seen one of those,” she whispered to Helix. “When did you?”
Maybe this was something else he didn’t remember. He might have no idea.
But he said, “Beryl is human. I know I’ve told you about her and Zylar. I don’t know if I mentioned her species.”
She searched her memory, then said, “I don’t think so. You said she was accidentally taken from a low-tech planet, that they don’t even have star travel yet. How did Bojak get here then?”
