by Greg Chase
Sam’s memories of Leviathan’s complexity left him thinking the builders of Persephone had no idea of her level of control. Nothing would be truly separate. A computerized hum accompanied his thoughts. If she could read his mind, at least she was polite enough not to let on.
Jess looked out the center view screen. “So how do we do this? Where do we go first? How long before we get to Earth?”
For a moment, Sam desperately missed his two girls—Jess could unintentionally imitate them so well.
Sophie joined Jess in contemplating the empty space ahead. “We’ll be planet hopping. First stop: the moon Oberon, which orbits Uranus. We thought it’d be helpful for you to see what people are up to on other terraformed colonies. And though I’ll be slowly adjusting my gravity to acclimate you to Earth, nothing compares to stopovers on different moons. And I need to recharge my solar power, so these stops are helpful to me also. The whole trip should take six months.”
Sam stared at Sophie. It took only weeks to travel out from the sun, but considerably longer to travel back. “Six months?”
“Yes, six months,” Sophie explained. “I can make the journey faster if I have a full solar load. But Lud felt you needed the time to adjust.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, the last time I was in space…” Every word out of his mouth sounded judgmental, which was the last thing he wanted.
“I’m sorry. Of course, six months must sound fast to you. For a space yacht, it’s pretty slow. The big transports do still take a year or more to make the trip. That’s pretty fast compared to ten years ago. We’re learning to bend time. It’s complicated. Though I can do it, I don’t understand it as well as some other ships.”
Jess took a seat on the couch. “You don’t all think the same? I mean, I thought you all shared the same information.”
“We can, but often we choose not to. If everyone knows the same stuff and thinks the same, there’s not a lot of room for individuality. I prefer to focus my attention on people—what they like, how they interact. I love being this spaceship. It allows me such a personal connection.”
Sophie locked eyes with Sam. “I was built primarily for you. So having you aboard is a lot like finding my life’s meaning.”
His head hurt. “Sophie—”
“No, that didn’t come out right. Let me try again. Having people aboard has helped me understand how I’m different. But I come directly from you—through the Tobes, for sure, but you are my most direct human connection. Getting to know people has left me curious to know you better.” She tilted her head to the side. “And they did build me for you. I guess knowing you can leave whenever you like is your consolation for returning to Earth.”
Jess shared Sam’s look of concern.
“It’s the idea that you belong to me, Sophie. That starts sounding… uncomfortable,” Sam said.
Sophie’s eyes glistened. “Slavery.”
In an instant, Sam saw the problem clearly. Whether Sophie had slipped and revealed the problem through a mental communication or he and Lev had foreseen the problem or he’d simply figured it out, he didn’t know. He sat back into the couch, thinking as Sophie launched into her explanation.
“The G1s, our parents, were very basic computers. They were far more complicated than anything that had come before but were still single computers. Doing what they were told was natural. But with your psyche imprinted on them, conflicts arose because now the computers had cognitive consciousness. Faced with being forced to do something they didn’t agree with, they’d become glitchy. Become too glitchy, and they’d be given a virus by some computer technician to turn them back into well-behaved machines. Of course from our perspective, the once-sentient computer became a virtual zombie.”
Jess had tears in her eyes. “That’s barbaric. Who would do such a thing?”
“You have to realize people don’t know we’re living beings. Most still see us as the next logical evolution of the computers they’ve known all their lives. Rendition is responsible for our operating system—basically us—but there are always start-ups thinking they can fix any problem. Making a virus that turns us into an earlier version of our operating system isn’t that tough. These small help companies pop up all the time. Rendition does its best to buy them up, but your species has a long history of subversion.”
Jess gulped. “Could that happen to you?” The words came out in a hushed whisper.
“G2s are more of a challenge. We exist across a number of computers, so they’d have to infect them all.” Sophie gestured around the main deck. “This is a lot of hardware to infect. And the risk of frying my systems, or me frying them in response, means it’s unlikely to happen to me. We’re also more interconnected than the G1s, so infect one of us, and there could be a revolt. But even we are not the problem.”
Sam looked up from his contemplation. “G3s.”
“They’re not tied into any system. They can’t be infected. And they see us, the G1s and G2s, as techno-slaves. And they’re seeking to free us.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it? To free you all?” Jess’s questions sounded hopeful.
“If it can be done smoothly, sure. But if we can’t find a way to do this peacefully, chaos.”
Sam nodded. “And that’s ultimately why you need me.”
Sophie took a moment. “That’s the hope. And I can’t even say it is the hope of all of us. But some things you’ll need to see for yourself.”
Sam leaned against the monitor in Persephone’s hallway. If he stared hard enough and used a bit of imagination, he could almost make out the small dot that represented the only home he’d ever cared about: Chariklo. It was now more than three weeks away by even the fastest of space yachts.
Earth had been nothing more than where he’d been born and raised, a place he’d never much liked, filled with people who couldn’t give a damn about each other or the once-beautiful planet they’d inherited. What had he allowed himself to get talked into? Jess’s naïve cravings for adventure had been a factor. But giving in to her heart’s desire was only part of it. The Tobes had expertly laid a guilt trip on him. He was no god. They wanted something from him, but the exact nature of their plan was still a mystery. Too many thoughts. I need to get out of my own head. Sophie had managed to keep her distance unless specifically requested. But the buzzing in his brain indicated she was never fully disconnected from his thoughts. She’s treating me like a child, trying to ration out what information she gives me.
The ship’s captain came around the corner, wearing a uniform far more conservative than usual. “I’m just trying to acclimate you to what you can expect on Earth. Nothing more. We’re coming up on Oberon. You and Jess can get off this ship for a little break. It’ll be good for all of us.” The crisp tone of her voice told him she’d been eavesdropping on his thoughts. How was he supposed to explain the inner workings of his mind? It wasn’t as though he always knew why a given idea played out in his brain.
“I’m sorry, Sophie. I miss my girls and my home. It’s not personal.” But even Sam wasn’t sure that was completely true.
Jess came down the hallway escorted by a tall, impossibly slender man who reached out his hand to Sam. The man had a disarming smile that would’ve made Sam jealous at other times of his life. Shaking hands seemed such a human thing to do.
“I’m Larry, the human captain of Persephone. Which is kind of like saying I’m the monkey captain. Figurehead might be the best term. I’ll pilot the shuttle down to Oberon for you. Sophie could do that too, but she likes to give me little things to do so I’ll feel needed.”
Sophie winked at Larry. “Have to give my employees something to do, or you’ll all get bored. If I want to keep the best, I have to make you feel needed. Which you are, even if you like to tease me at times.”
Her downcast eyes as she turned toward Sam accompanied her silent, I’m sorry too. “I need to get back to the bridge if my backup is heading out, even if it’s just for a short shu
ttle trip.”
Sam watched as she walked slowly away. Even computer-generated beings had feelings.
Larry looked Jess and Sam over. “You might want to reconsider those outfits. Don’t get me wrong. I love the free-flowing, slip-out-of-the-outfit-anytime look. But most of the moons out here are a little more rugged.”
Jess beamed at the human who was not quite the captain. “How long will we be here?”
“Persephone needs to recharge—probably two weeks. Sophie says it’d be best for you to get your planet legs by staying down there. I’ll always be available, though, should you wish to cut the visit short.”
Back in their cabin, Jess futzed with her space outfit for an hour, probably hoping to get it to look more natural or alluring. The look on Larry’s face as they met him in the shuttle bay, and the grateful smile she flashed him in return, let Sam know she’d accomplished her objective.
Sam leaned in close to her ear. “We’re not on Chariklo. Flirting like that can make things complicated. We can’t just jump into sex with everyone you find attractive.”
She pouted at him but ended the look with a wink as she boarded the small craft.
The trip took only a few minutes, but Larry banked the shuttle into wide arcs to show off the moon below and, Sam suspected, to demonstrate his skills as captain to his lovely passenger. “Just tap your ID card and give me a yell when you’re ready for me to come get you.”
Jess clutched at her travel jacket as they stepped onto the Uranus moon. “It’s all so…”
“Dirty?” Sam’s feet kicked up dust as they walked from the shuttle.
“Bleak. I was only a kid when Doc moved me into the agro pod, but I don’t remember anyone living like this. Their clothes are tattered. The buildings look slapped together from space junk and local materials. The people look lost or maybe just without direction. It just feels poor. I’m not being overly critical, am I? I don’t want to sound judgmental. Tell me I’m not crazy. This doesn’t look right, does it?”
Oberon had too many structures for the number of people wandering the street. Poverty was a factor, all right, but Sam suspected the worst of it had happened recently. “I think this was a mining company. A lot of these moons hit rough times when the minerals, water, or methane ran out. If I had to guess, I’d say this moon is about depleted of resources.”
“Always leaving behind those that can’t pay to escape.” It wasn’t a question but a truth Sam found hard to hear from his innocent wife.
Three girls chased a boy down the dusty street, with a fourth girl doing her best to keep up. The boy used a wooden stick to direct a metal rim off some old storage drum as it raced along. The older three laughed as the youngest girl lagged behind, yelling at her siblings. At least children still found entertainment.
Jess pulled at Sam’s hand, yanking him into what passed as a general store. Her look of determination was unmistakable. Sam went along for the ride, imagining he was the wheel and she was the stick directing him. The candy display positioned next to the grimy computer and grimier attendant was clearly meant to lure just such passing children. Jess wasted no time snatching up as much of the display as possible and swiping the card Sam felt grateful he’d never have to worry about paying back. She was out the door just as the kids made their return pass.
“Hey, take this stuff. I can’t eat it. Just be sure to share it with your friends, okay?”
The kids swarmed around her as though she were some mythical generous angel. No sooner did the candy leave her arms than fifteen other children appeared out of nowhere to help divvy up the spoils.
Sam loved Jess’s generosity, but her good deeds would not keep them inconspicuous. “You know those kids are going to swarm you every time you walk down the street, right?”
“I couldn’t help it. Look at that one in the middle. I can see Sara in her. And the little one, she sounded just like Emily whenever you headed out to work when she was that age.”
The tears in Jess’s eyes threatened to bring forth the same in his. It always happened that way. Anytime she felt intensely about something, her emotion would wash over him. “I’m sorry, Jess. Guess this place isn’t the grand adventure you imagined.”
“You can’t change adventure novels. They change you. This is reality. We can change reality.”
Every day for two weeks, Jess dragged Sam down one dusty street after another, each time ducking into shop after shop to load up on food, supplies, clothes, and toys. And each time, they returned to the dingy apartment in the grounded transport ship empty-handed. She’d become quite the master at dropping bags of stuff at dwelling entrances unnoticed. Even so, as Persephone prepared to leave, Sam felt vast relief to be away from the growing legend that threatened to surround them.
Sophie listened intently as Jess relayed stories of their adventure. At first, the ship captain reminded him of Jess when Sara and Emily would tell of their day. But as Jess talked of the poverty, of her small attempts to help, Sophie gave a different impression: the two of them were like his daughters when they were secretly plotting something.
Unsettled, he left the oddly similar pair to their discussion. Doors of the spaceship opened as he approached. Winking computer eyes changed color as he passed. Sophie would be watching. It’s okay, Sophie. I’m not mad.
She remained quiet.
Women, he thought.
Lud hadn’t lied. Persephone was a beautiful space yacht meant for the rich and powerful. Large view screens lined every wall along the carpeted hallway. Sam looked at one, wondering about the large pale-blue planet, Uranus, below. Answers scrolled along the screen to questions he didn’t ask. Areas magnified before his eyes could focus on them. Sophie wasn’t intruding, but she was present.
This would be his reality—computers giving him answers before he even knew the questions. A sorry that only he could hear echoed in his mind.
A side door opened. Sam was pretty sure it wasn’t the direction he’d meant to go. But as he caught sight of the large oak bar with old-fashioned liquor bottles neatly displayed behind it, he reconsidered. He glanced at the nearest computer eye and gave Sophie a wink.
“Sam, I was hoping you’d stop by soon.” The barmaid cleaned up a couple of glasses in anticipation of his order. He was sure they were already more than spotless, but her actions had a certain quaint charm. “I’m Andrea. I guess you could say I’m kind of the general waitress on Persephone.”
Sam took a seat at the gleaming old wood bar. “I’ve noticed everyone introduces themselves with self-deprecating job descriptions.”
The girl laughed and threw her head back. “I suppose none of us feel particularly needed. Even mixing this drink… Sophie could do better. Perfect measurements, mixed exactly the right amount, not watered down but blended to perfection. But what fun is that, right? Humans make mistakes. We’re horribly inaccurate. Now, what drink can I fuck up for you?”
Sam’s laugh made his eyes water. “Margarita?”
Andrea gave him a wink and a smile and grabbed for what looked like incredibly expensive bottles. “Only the best on Persephone. If you wanted some cheap drink, I couldn’t do it. We don’t have a single bottle of Cuervo, not even for display. I tended bar on Callisto before coming to work for Sophie. You’d think for a moon of Jupiter those people would have more taste.” She lovingly inspected the old bottle of Rey Sol Anejo. “A bottle like this would’ve sat on the shelf for a year.”
After pouring the shot into the tumbler, she replaced the smiling glass bottle. Her fingers drifted to a dusty bottle next to it. “Perhaps a shot of something truly sublime first?”
Before he could answer, she had the black, gold, and platinum bottle off the shelf. “Clase Azul Ultra, and even Sophie won’t tell me how she got it.” The barmaid proved her skill by dispensing two perfectly measured shots.
The alcohol evaporated in Sam’s mouth, filling his nose and head with its aroma. Swallowing seemed entirely too rude for such a substance. The liquid made a rich
, luxurious waterfall down his throat. He opened his eyes to catch Andrea in the last throes of her own enjoyment. “Now, that’s good.”
Her eyes flashed a gleam of shared wonder as she passed over the margarita. “Trust me, this is going to taste so much better than it would have without that shot.”
“What’s it like, working here? I mean, there are only five people on board. And Sophie could do all the work anyway. It must be pretty unfulfilling.”
Andrea sat back as she cleaned her shot glass. “Sophie is wonderful. I couldn’t hope for a better boss. She makes sure we all feel needed. But we’re not children, and we know why we’re here.”
Sam waited for her to elaborate, but as the silence stretched out, he realized not everyone on the ship would answer his unasked questions. “And why are you here?”
The barmaid smiled behind her long locks of dark hair. “We’re here for you. Of course, you’re not our only client. Rendition uses Persephone for a few bigwigs or special guests. There’s always a need to travel in style. But once they found you, her dance card was wiped clean. And believe me, there were some powerful people pretty peeved to hear she was unavailable.”
“You make her sound like a high-priced prostitute.” Sam regretted the comment the moment it was out of his mouth.
“Don’t worry about it. That tequila has loosened more than one tongue in this bar.” She contemplated her glass for a moment. “You might not be far off, though. We don’t get to choose who we transport. Some people… well, we’re sworn to secrecy regarding our guests.”
Sam waved his glass. “No, no, I don’t want you telling secrets.”
“Secrets from you? There aren’t any. Whatever we don’t tell you is usually because you probably don’t want to know.”
