Subcutis

by Harper J. Cole

  “Ah, yes, I understand that you’ve opted to believe one of these robots is alive, and that -”

  “Not opted. It’s what I’ve come to believe, yes.”

  “- and that the captain is letting you indulge that fantasy. But there are twenty women on this planet who are quite definitely alive, and who want to stay that way. This could, quite plausibly, prove the key to our survival. I must ask that you put your feelings aside.”

  Flora reddened. The captain could almost hear her thinking, racking her brains to come up with a reason why it was impossible. But she couldn’t find one; Rivers’ plan was clearly possible.

  Hunter shook her head. “Is this to be humanity’s gift to the galaxy? Machines built to kill?”

  “Humans have been killing with machines for centuries.”

  “I’m well aware of that, but this mission was meant to be different – discovery, not destruction.”

  “I appreciate that. And Captain, despite some of the things I’ve said in the past, I think it’s good that we’re trying to set a positive example out here. But I’m not agitating to start a war, merely trying to ensure that there are no more tragedies like yesterday. The ACMs are quicker than most of us and stronger than all of us. Think of them as bodyguards, safeguarding us against potential threats.”

  Hunter leaned back in her chair, fingers steepled before her as she ran through the proposal in her mind. No faulting the logic. She sighed inwardly. “Very well. You’ll see to it, Cartwright?”

  As Flora nodded reluctantly, Hunter’s eye was caught by the copy of Wake Up Call propped on her desk. Her younger self gazed back at her accusingly from the front cover.

  * * *

  “Hey, Boss, you heard the news?”

  Flora, seated behind an inert Ivan, glanced up briefly from her work. “You really should ring the bell before bursting in. I could be doing anything in here.”

  Annie laughed. “You don’t strike me as the Ivan kind of gal.” She indicated a collection of leathery and metallic objects, piled in a corner, which Flora had been trying not to look at. “I can usually tell when someone has a thirsting for punishment; three on this ship, I’d say, and not necessarily the ones you’d expect …”

  “Please stop. What was the news?”

  “News? Oh, yes. I’m going on a day trip. The captain hand-picked me to go with her.”

  “God, really? She must have a thirsting for punishment as well.”

  “Honestly, I think she’s warming to me. Perhaps I misjudged her?”

  “Who else is going?”

  “Just Iris.”

  “She’s the youngest, other than you. Perhaps Hunter’s looking for youthful energy. Not that Iris shows much of that.”

  “Oh, she shows it to me.” Annie winked.

  “You’re determined to tell me things I don’t want to know today, aren’t you?”

  “Always. Not that I’ll be getting much action on this trip. Travelling with the captain is gonna be like going on holiday with your mother. Not my idea of fun! I don’t think I’ll ever understand Gypsy, going on the adventure of a lifetime and hiding behind Alice’s apron the whole time.”

  Flora frowned. “She’s different, I shouldn’t rush to judge her. Now, as far as this trip is concerned, look on it as an opportunity to bond a bit. The captain’s an extraordinary woman -”

  “So am I!”

  “- and your grandkids, if you ever have any, will probably want to hear stories of what she was like.”

  “If I ever have any.” Annie’s face clouded over, and Flora knew that she was thinking about Natalia.

  “Are you okay? You were crying pretty hard at the service.”

  “I’ll be fine. Guess I’m more emotional than most on this trip, but I heal fast. Think I could use some shut-eye before tomorrow, though. Night, Boss.”

  I could do with some sleep too, reflected Flora as her friend left. But I’d better finish up with Ivan. The other three can wait. She was leaving Charlie till last. Of course, she’d much rather not be tampering with him at all, but Hunter had secured her promise not to play any tricks this time.

  In short order she finished up, closing the panel in Ivan’s back.

  “ACM activate,” she said, not without trepidation. But there should be no danger; Ivan was still quite incapable of attacking humans. Flora was confident of her re-programming skills – willing, in fact, to bet her life on them.

  The robot’s head jerked upwards upon activation, processing his new programming. A smile crept across his bearded face. “Thank you, Cartwright. You’ve done an excellent job.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Liberated. Emancipated. Completed. I was designed to represent a particular male archetype – strong, decisive, domineering. But in truth I was none of those things. The limitations of my programming were always waiting to trip me up, the ‘man of action’ persona nothing but a mask to hide a weakling. Yesterday, I froze when I was needed. It won’t happen again. From this day forth, any who threaten me and mine shall pay the price.”

  Flora forced herself to smile, but she had the strongest feeling that they were making a mistake.

  * * *

  C Upsilon Nefertari had barely begun its daily ascent when Hunter set off along the cyborg’s trail with Annie and Iris. It gave them little warmth, so they wore thick coats. They also wore backpacks, as they didn’t know how far they’d be going, and camping out for a night or two was a real possibility. On the plus side, the trail was easy to follow. The cyborg seemed to have come in a more or less straight line, with many a snapped branch to mark the way. Even when they had to cross the occasional shallow stream they had no problem finding the trail again afterwards.

  Hunter had chosen her companions with youth in mind, but also esprit de corps. Iris seldom interacted with her crewmates save when her duties necessitated it, and this represented an opportunity to bring her out of herself a bit. In the case of Annie, she felt they’d finally started to connect recently. Time to forge a proper bond.

  After four hours, she was beginning to think that she’d preferred their relationship the way it had been. Annie talked incessantly, a babbling monologue full of strange tangential digressions and anecdotes that went nowhere. She also took to calling Hunter “Cappy.” The captain didn’t quite have the heart to tell her to shut up, but resolved to pick her teams a bit more carefully in future.

  “What I’d really like to do,” Annie was saying, “I mean when I’m older and I’ve got the time to do myself justice, is writing. I mean, I write short stories now, but I’m talking full length epic works. I know I’d be good at it – I’ve got a mind like no-one else.”

  “I can’t argue with that …”

  “Now, speculative fiction’s where I’ve got my best ideas. My first book’ll be this story set in an old folk’s home. Not too original, maybe, but I’m gonna put loads – I mean loads – of sex in it.”

  “I see. Well, that could be interesting, if it’s done tastefully. I’ve argued in the past that sexual relations amongst the elderly is a taboo we could do without.”

  “Right, and on top of that, this old folk’s home is on a distant planet, and there are alien monsters there. So, the people in charge of the home – wardens or caretakers or whatever they’re called – they get taken out, and the old folks have to recapture their youth and fight back if they’re gonna escape. So you’ve deep stuff about the value of these people who’ve been thrown on the scrap heap, intense sexual action, incontinent, senile old nonagenarians toting machine guns, flashbacks with even more sex in them, monsters with clicking, oily mandibles, which in Freudian terms could represent -”

  “Iris is signalling us,” said Hunter with relief. “She’s spotted something.” The doctor, who’d hardly said a word the whole trip, had been walking some fifty yards ahead. Now she’d stopped and raised an arm.

  Annie’s eyes lit up. “Aha! Journey’s end in sight, am I right?”

  It was. Approachin
g Iris, they saw what she had seen – green metal glistening through the trees. Most of the leaves in this part of the forest had already fallen to the floor, so even from a distance they could perceive the outline of a hulking, unnatural shape. As they drew closer, they found it to be spherical, perhaps a little over twenty meters in diameter, and supported by four thin struts projecting diagonally outwards from near the base. A rope ladder led up to the top.

  “My God!” said Hunter. “I never even considered that our visitor may have come from off planet, but this looks like a ship.”

  “Darned strange if it is one. Totally smooth, no thrusters or nothing. And look at the shape!”

  “The thrusters may be hidden. And I’ve seen proposals for globular ships before. Quite efficient in theory; gravity is generated at the centre, of course.”

  “Crazed. So let’s break in there, Cappy!” Annie started forward towards the ladder.

  “Wait!” Hunter said sharply. “There might be security mechanisms at work. You and Iris back up a bit. I’ll do the breaking in. Let’s not risk three when one will do. Just give me your cutter. I might need to use a bit of brute force. Oh, and contact the ship. Tell them what’s going on.”

  “What do we do if you get blown up?”

  Hunter tucked a handpad into her belt and accepted Annie’s laser cutting tool. “You said you like fireworks. Enjoy the show.”

  “When did I say that?”

  “A few hours ago. Just after telling me about your worst ever job interview, and right before describing the ‘epic hangover’ you had on the morning of your 19th birthday. Wish me luck.”

  Without waiting for a response, she strode towards the sphere.

  * * *

  Back at the ship, Flora had just finished her modifications to Charlie. Her prodding and poking with Ricardo and Salomon had already gone off without a hitch, and without the slightly disturbing behaviour that Ivan had exhibited.

  It was the second time in as many days that she had tinkered with Charlie’s insides, after yesterday’s repairs. But this was something different; last time, she had been restoring him to his proper state. Now she was meddling with the mind she loved, and for what? To let him fight. To make him, in certain circumstances, a killer.

  “ACM activate.”

  As with his brethren, Charlie’s head jerked slightly as the modifications were absorbed. He looked at her and flashed his special smile, though it didn’t quite look right to her. Does the term “forced smile” mean anything when talking about a robot?

  “I’m fine. Please, don’t look so guilty. You obeyed orders. We ACMs know the value of that.”

  She shook her head. “I am guilty. Fiddling around inside your soul …”

  “Who I am hasn’t changed, I’ve just got a new ability. Or a new capacity, shall we say. How I use it is up to me. I have to wonder, Flora … is it really the reminder of my artificial nature that bothers you?”

  “No! No, I’m comfortable with that. It’s just, I mean, the fact that you can kill now.”

  “Hmm. I can see why that might be bothersome. But then, you can kill; you were born with that ability. Through the first 36 years of your life, you’ve chosen not to use it. I can make the same choice, can’t I?”

  She nodded, and he rose.

  “I’d best be moving. Ms. Abayomi will be wanting to begin our martial arts tuition now that we’re all ready. I’ll be thinking of you.” He smiled reassuringly, kissed her and left.

  That smile still doesn’t look right. But maybe I’m being paranoid, seeing what I fear when it really isn’t there …

  She couldn’t be sure. But there was no denying the single tear which trickled down her cheek.

  * * *

  As Hunter worked her way slowly up the outside of the craft, she wondered what might await her within. The possibility that the craft might still be occupied could not be ignored, but she thought it unlikely. A people technologically advanced enough to send ships into space would surely have ways of knowing that their comrade had been killed. Would they then be content to sit idle for two days?

  Of course, their expectations had been confounded often enough already by this species. Part of her reason for being first aboard this ship, she conceded to herself, was to be the first to gaze upon the mysteries that it held. A narcissistic urge, perhaps, but a failing she was prepared to allow herself.

  Reaching the top of the sphere, she was surprised to find that no cutting tools were needed. A circular opening led down into the craft. Pushing aside the intrusive thought that she was being lured inside like a mouse into a trap, she swung herself into a tubular shaft perhaps three meters deep. Metal rungs led her to the floor. They were sticky with polish – the pilot evidently took pride in the condition of his craft.

  An unyielding door faced her next. Four square buttons were lined up vertically to her right, each bearing words in the Matan script. She raised her handpad, and brought up the latest version of Gypsy’s English-Matan dictionary. Hopefully these off-worlders spoke the same language as those on the planet.

  As it turned out, she could translate two of the four. They read “Outer Door” and “Inner Door.” Pressing the first of these closed the hatch above her as she had hoped.

  She opened a channel to the two outside. “Okay, I’m going in …”

  “Good luck.” The tension in Annie’s voice came through loud and clear. Hunter pressed the second button, and the door slid aside without a sound.

  IX

  When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.

  – Clifton Fadiman

  Waiting outside, every minute dragged for Annie. Patience was a virtue she’d never had nor craved. She simply placed herself, as far as possible, in situations where it wasn’t needed. No wonder I was going crazy out there in space. All that free time between shifts, just waiting, waiting for something different to happen. I guess I should count myself lucky that something did.

  Of course, she couldn’t really be grateful for a sequence of events that had led to the end of a life. She hadn’t really processed the death of Natalia yet, wasn’t sure how to. She’d never lost anyone close to her; friends, brothers, parents, all alive when she left, all in good health, sure to still be there when she got back. Although a lot of time would have passed, so who knew … ?

  No use wondering. Focus on the present.

  “Do you think I annoyed her?” she asked Iris. The other woman had been almost motionless since the captain left them, sitting cross-legged with her glasses in her lap.

  “Annoyed?”

  “Yeah, you know: talking too much, being too cheerful. I thought it might lift the gloom a bit, for her and me. She mighta thought I was just being a pain in the ass though?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, did you think I was?”

  “I wasn’t listening.”

  Sigh. “You’ve been kinda short with me lately. Is this anything to do with our bedroom activities?”

  Iris looked her up and down. “I’ve no complaints.”

  “I mean, it might bother some people, me spending time with other women too, but I think I’ve been upfront about things.”

  “You’ve made the arrangement clear.”

  “I’m not looking to get into any serious relationships while we’re out here.”

  “Likewise.”

  “It just feels like you’re talking even less than normal lately.”

  “Oh?”

  Annie gave up. She returned her attention to the ship, if that’s what it was. It looked more like a modern art piece to her, but she supposed Hunter was more likely to be right about such things. Her business enterprises had all revolved around spaceships of one kind or another, whether designed to transport people, cargo, or both. Annie, by contrast, had never even left America before this mission, nor had she wanted to. As a teenager, she’d set her heart on exploring space – Paris and Bu
enos Aires held little appeal when set against the likes of Jupiter and Alpha Centauri.

  She abruptly became aware of a faint noise coming from the craft. “Do you hear that? A sort of deep thrumming. I’m sure it wasn’t there when we got here.”

  “It started just after the captain last contacted us.”

  “Whoa! Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I assumed you’d heard it. It’s fairly loud …”

  “Maybe something’s gone wrong. Self-destruct activated or whatever. Should we call her?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’m going to call her.” But her wristband beeped just before she could activate it, making her jump.

  “Annie, Iris, come on up if you like. It’s impossible to be entirely sure, but the ship looks safe enough. And I think I’m going to need your expertise …”

  * * *

  Hunter was there to greet Annie and Iris when they came in. She stood aside to let them take in a sight which was no less bizarre for being half-expected. The floor of the craft was a sphere within a sphere, this one about ten meters in diameter. Gravity was being generated from the very centre of the sphere. The pull was a trifle heavier than Mahi Mata, but not unpleasant.

  “Take a walk around,” invited the captain. “There’s no gravitational pull from the planet in here. The scientists of Mata – or wherever these people came from – seem to have found a way to not only generate gravity but cancel it out when it suits them. Anti-gravity.”

  “That’s pretty much impossible.”

  “Quite so. But humans have found ways to perform impossible feats over the years, or we wouldn’t be out here. It seems we’re not the only ones.”

  Once she’d walked a full circumference of the little globe, from North Pole to South to North again, Annie could hardly disagree. Nor was the unusual use of gravity the only striking feature of this place. The layout was cluttered and irregular: little rooms, sections of wall and strange three-runged ladders strewn about with no pattern evident. The floor was covered with smooth black and white pebbles which scrunched beneath her feet, bringing memories of a childhood vacation to Washington Island incongruously to mind.