Hers was still covered in ice and snow – melting and dripping now, and blood, that defrosting and running, too. Embedded in the zippered flap of one of her pockets was a tooth, and it wasn’t hers.
She could have done without seeing that.
‘Here,’ she said to Cassie, and begun removing the waist belt and holster holding her small, light pistol. ‘Take the gun. Not sure I can stomach shooting anyone, or anything. I’ve had enough death this life already.’
‘No,’ said Cassie, and laid and hand atop Anna, pushing the pistol away. ‘Keep it. If not for you...for all of us. Okay? We’re a team, and we all need each other. It’s better that we’re all armed, and there are more weapons in here, too. Lian can take a pistol when she’s on her feet.’
Anna nodded, or maybe her head just shook from the cold.
She’s right. We need each other. We’d be dead now if we hadn’t pulled together.
Lian certainly wouldn’t have made it this far, and while they might not be friends, she liked Lian, and she knew Lian felt the same.
She liked them all.
‘Thanks Cassie,’ she said. ‘How is she? Lian?’
‘She woke up, set up the med-bed herself. Good job, too. None of us could’ve done it. Said she’d be fine. An hour, maybe.’
‘The ship?’
To that, Cassie shook her head. ‘Jin says the ship’s dying. We don’t have long. Enough to get straight. New suits, power packs. Supplies enough to reach the anomaly, but...’
‘Not enough power to leave, right?’
Cassie turned her gaze to Ulrich, and Lian, then shook her head slightly.
‘No. But we’re not dead yet.’
‘Yeah,’ said Anna. ‘Where are the fresh suits, Cassie? I’m dripping someone else’s blood.’
‘In a locker at the end of the deck, near the prow? I don’t know what you call it. Cabin, maybe, but there’s no...’
‘Thanks,’ said Anna, forestalling more talk. She turned her head to one side and leaning slightly Anna hurled up anything left in her gut, down her right shoulder and arm, and onto Sculptor of Motions largely undamaged floor. She wiped her mouth with her left hand. ‘I’m going to need that suit.’
*
39.
Death of a Ship
Sculptor of Motions
Jin spent his time learning what he could from the ship. She was crippled, and dying, but retained some functions.
‘Can you access memory field?’
‘I can. Upload?’
Jin consented, then he absorbed all available information as audio-visual fed directly into his mind. More than a mortal mind, and not exactly a processor, but a highly advanced processing centre, and one which had evolved far beyond anything the Company had ever imagined possible when they created the Titans. Jin had no eyes, and no features, as such. Everything he sensed, understood, came via far more sources than a standard, non-augmented human could understand.
He saw what the ship had seen, registered, recorded, heard – audio visual, but through data, too. Lines of code instantly translated to knowledge, to understanding, to conclusions.
Seconds later, Jin was ninety percent certain where the danger lay...if not why.
‘Sculptor of Motions...are you still bound by Company dictates?’
‘Yes, but I am able to circumvent some strictures in the light of...’
‘Say nothing else,’ said Jin. ‘I am unsure as to the privacy of this conversation.’
‘Understood,’ said the ship. ‘Take what you can. Weapons, gear, replacement for any damaged equipment. Transport areas remain undamaged. There is one track-drive vehicle remaining, suitable for one person or additional supplies.’
‘We will,’ said Jin. ‘You have aided us. You fulfil your duties and I am in admiration.’
‘As you, Jin. You are a fine example to your kin.’
‘And you to AI. Underestimated, friend.’
Ulrich emerged from the ship, searching for Jin but Jin sensed the soldier’s approach and switched from private to public comms, allowing Sculptor of Motions to listen, should his suspicions prove well-founded.
He thought they were better than well-founded, but Jin always, always, tried to make sure. Data he could process in an instant, but reality was not only data, and truth could not be contained in streaming information within any processor, no matter if as complex as a human mind, or something far beyond, as complex as his own.
Jin held up a hand to stop Ulrich, and the man cocked his head, questioning, by way of response.
Facial expressions, body language, make up much of human communication. Jin was largely denied subterfuge. He wasn’t designed specifically for human interaction, but he understood it very well in others and was maybe even more capable of empathy and innate understanding of human moods and vagaries than many were themselves.
Ulrich gave a small nod back, and understanding passed between them.
‘Ulrich,’ said Jin, ‘Are you physically well enough to aid loading supplies onto a track-drive?’
‘Sure,’ he said. Ulrich’s expression remained the same - lopsided, questioning, but he said nothing.
They loaded the carrier, while talking. Not with words, but battlefield signals. Jin was better than fluent in hundreds of common languages, but this was a language Ulrich would understand. Not perfect communication. Battlefield comms were simple, because nobody had time to figure out a complex series of gestures while under fire.
Jin got the point across, and Ulrich picked it up no problem at all. He’d been asleep, not dead, and Ulrich had woken up just the same man as when he’d been frozen in Hush’s crypts.
Ears. Eyes. Silence.
Ulrich remained much the same man as the records available to Jin indicated he had always been, but in his presence, Jin understood there was more to the ex-AIN commander, and gangland enforcer. He was intelligent, and dangerous, yes...but there was kindness, too, and more – wisdom.
Even through Ulrich’s only eye, Jin could see that much.
*
The heat from whatever had transpired to leave the scene of devastation which surrounded Sculptor of Motions faded, and night neared its end. With daylight, the remaining power onboard would be gone, and another unwelcome journey before them. Jin glowed while he and Ulrich worked outside.
The Titan maintained constant contact with the ship. She would die soon. They could wait longer should they wish, past sunrise and this planet’s meagre light, but they’d be waiting in a what amounted to a cooling corpse.
Their only option was progress.
Ulrich worked quietly, calmly, without complaint, and patiently waited on Jin. Ulrich’s stoicism only reinforced Jin’s assessment of the man. Patience, Jin thought, was a virtue born of wisdom.
Finally, the track-drive loaded with all it could reasonably carry, Jin indicated Ulrich switch to a private frequency, excluding Anna and Lian and the ship.
‘Why private?’ asked Ulrich, though he did as bid with no hesitation.
‘I can block us all, but I cannot guarantee our words would remain private. Even powering down, Sculptor of Motions comms capabilities far exceed my own...if she can hear our conversation, my concern is that Hush, too, will be privy to what we discuss here.’
‘Hush?’ Ulrich took a long, slow breath to allow himself a moment to process the implications. He breathed out, just as slowly, then nodded. ‘Understood, Jin. Are we safe to speak now?’
‘Possibly. Very likely,’ said the Titan. It towered over Ulrich, but was not looming, not aggressive. If anything, the Titan’s stance was passive, even deferential.
With the snow driving against them and stood away from the ship, they might well have been the only two beings on the planet.
‘Hush had something to do with this, then?’
‘Consider, Ulrich, what you already know. This ship was fired on from above, just as was the Silver Dollar. I cannot speak for Blue Sun Dawning, but all ships are down.’
&nbs
p; ‘Is it possible that something within the anomaly, some defensive measures, were activated with our arrival?’
‘Possible,’ said Jin. ‘Yes. There are endless possibilities. But likelihood, and reasonable assumptions based on available facts to you lead me to believe otherwise. I, however, have further information which I feel confirms my suspicions within a reasonable margin for doubt. I saw the memories of the attack which took place here.’
‘Go on,’ said Ulrich, his attention given entirely over to Jin.
‘I understand why Sculptor of Motions hid herself, and why she does not attempt communication with her remaining power. You saw the aftermath, Ulrich. Dead Augs, burned out or crushed or exploded drones, and signs that something other than them lived upon the ice planet, because they did not attack themselves.’
Ulrich just groaned, the picture becoming clearer as they spoke, and Jin knew it wasn’t just the tableau of a small one-sided battle Ulrich was seeing, but the wider, more horrifying image.
One where the enemy was vastly more powerful than they had believed.
‘Only those bodies which came with the ship? I tallied the remains, and the number is roughly analogous with Sculptor of Motions compliment of Augs and drones. Not 100%, my preference when reaching conclusions, but perfect parity with numbers is impossible as only parts remain.’
‘I’m getting it, Jin, but lay it out for me. I don’t want to assume, or fill in the blanks...I want certainty. We need it, because the alternative is...’
That we’re stranded on this planet with no hope of rescue, and any hope of survival for these humans fading with each moment that passes.
‘It’s clear enough, isn’t it? No sign of enemy dead, only those which came with the ship? What I saw through the ship’s memories was not an attack, but salvage. The energy expenditure was because of...the separation of parts, and an attempt to finish the ship. The Augs from Silver Dollar, and others which arrived from distance, and survivors from this site, too, all took what was needed and discarded that which was not. The survivors headed to the anomaly ahead of us and took everything useful to them - augmentations stripped from ruined organic parts, and any organic components they might use, too. This is a scrap yard, not a battle.’
‘But, Hush?’
‘At this juncture, I do not believe it wise to trust in Hush.’
‘I’ll tell the others,’ said Ulrich. ‘You figure comms for us?’
Jin nodded, and Ulrich ducked back inside the ship to relay the news, and did not question Jin further. Whether he believed or not, there was no doubt in Jin that Ulrich would respect his observations, and that heartened him.
Through all of his torments and trials, Jin had never abandoned hope that humanity could be greater than it was, and men like Ulrich, women like Cassie, and Lian, and Anna, would always be there to remind him, even if they could not see it themselves.
*
‘When you die, does it hurt?’
‘There is no pain, Anna of no second name,’ said the Sculptor of Motions.
‘No, I mean...inside. Sadness?’
‘I am AI, not AP, Anna. Emotions are denied me.’
She smiled. ‘I wish I could give comfort.’
‘Not required, but I...appreciate the gesture.’
Anna laid a hand on an interface console. ‘Maybe it’s only a selfish wish, one just to comfort me, Sculptor of Motions. But...this is the best I can do.’
‘Thank you, Anna. I will terminate now. Survive if you can.’
‘If not?’
‘Die well.’
‘I think AI is more than most realise. You helped us live. You did make a difference.’
But Sculptor of Motions was gone.
*
Inside the ship, Ulrich used a more expressive set of gestures before anyone could question their silence.
‘Later,’ he mouthed to Cassie. ‘Anna?’
‘In the cockpit,’ said Cassie. Lian was up, dressed. Pale, still, but she nodded and she didn’t seem disoriented. If she could nod her head and not stumble, Ulrich figured she was good to go, concussion or not.
‘Jin’s waiting outside,’ he said. ‘I’ll be out in a moment.’
Anna was ahead, in what might be the cabin or the cockpit in a manned craft, beside a command interface in case an Aug, or human, might be in a position to take control of the craft.
Hush had redesigned all of her craft, in line with her own needs, her own imagining. Ulrich wondered at that. Hush, an AP intellect which could manufacture ships far in advance of anything he’d ever known, adding such functionality.
But it’s not an oversight, is it? It’s redundancy.
And that, to Ulrich, indicated a mind which rarely made mistakes, but knew it could.
Anna stepped out of the forward cabin. The other were as ready as they were going to be, Cassie, Jin and Lian outside, the doctor to ride on the track-drive with supplies they felt might be useful. Ulrich had no chance to ask for Anna for quiet, and then, felt he didn’t need to.
‘Sculptor of Motions died,’ said Anna.
*
She didn’t carry her tooth. It sat on the human interface console of Sculptor of Motions.
Every living thing should have something to carry, she figured.
She didn’t need the tooth any longer, and after seeing the tooth and bloody remains frozen to her old tattered suit, the taste for such morbidity left her. A memorial to someone who cared for you was more important than a stupid tooth. There would be no ceremony, no headstone, no journey among the stars for Sculptor of Motions. It felt wrong, to her. The ship saved them, gave them succour. Something should be returned.
‘Yours?’ said Ulrich, looking past her at the tooth.
‘Yes. My father said everyone needed something to hold onto. I never had much. I figured it didn’t matter what I held. I don’t need it now. I have this.’
In her fist she held the pistol, then, carefully, like it was an important relic, Anna holstered it, and rose. ‘This seems more useful.’
She understood more about the weapon the longer she carried it. It wasn’t a simple tool, or a stupid toy, or something of no value at all. She treated it like it was to her – her most important possession. Like someone who wasn’t used to plenty.
‘Time,’ said Jin in their headsets. ‘Three kilometres remaining to anomaly, but little light.’
‘Let’s hustle then,’ said Anna, and gave Ulrich a wink and a smile which he returned.
‘Bet you don’t do that much,’ she said.
He shook his head, that sadness plain to her as the hole in his lined face. It was probably always there, but it was okay. For a moment, at least, she’d done something to make it a little lighter, and that, in turn, made it easier to step into the blizzard once more.
*
40.
Fallen Drone
Icefield
2 KM from Anomaly
Freezing and deadly wind whipping around them, the survivors took to the ice in the hard, eerie light of what passed for daytime on the frozen planet. The suits weren’t designed specifically for ice, but the constant snowfall crunched beneath their boots, which was better than slipping and sliding. Maybe they weren’t fearful, but they were tired. A group of curious beings, ever full of wonder, now only concerned with moving forward, ever forward, in the slim hope of finding something other than cold, and snow, and seemingly endless fields of ice.
Since Sculptor of Motions they were in better shape overall, though, and that was something to be thankful for. Environmental suits fully powered, well fed, and all showing some measure of improvement in their injuries. Anna was well as she ever was. Keloids were a constant discomfort for her, a tightness whenever they stretched. But as with any long term pain it had become almost background, like the noise of traffic for her, when she’d lived on the streets.
Anna felt her own fresher pains keenly, though, and she was the least hurt of all.
Cassie was hurt, maybe nursin
g her newer injuries atop old wounds. She fought to catch her breath when the landscape was hardest, on inclines and across small schisms where ice cracked and reformed, just as it probably had for millennia. Breathless, yes, but still the former detective pushed herself.
Ulrich limped heavily but only took a sharp, whistling breath when some movement hurt him more than whatever aches he was clearly accustomed to.
Lian, still suffering the pain and effects of concussion, complained about nothing on the journey. The doctor was steadier and a better colour beneath her thin face plate. She was even able to smile. That pleased Anna, because she liked Lian the best of all. They rarely spoke while they slogged through the inhospitable plains, though. Just walking while fighting the weather and the terrain was strain enough.
Anna wondered about Hush in those quiet moments.
After Sculptor of Motions’ death they’d spoken about Jin’s suspicions, and the reason for his new-found caution and his reticence to trust in Hush.
Now, walking toward the anomaly, it seemed all four of them checked the terrain ahead, and behind, but now she saw them regularly crane their heads up. As though they would see a threat, and if that threat was Hush herself? In this? It was folly, but human nature. Of course none of them could see a ship in orbit through an unrelenting snowstorm or in clear skies...but they still looked.
Jin led them on a curved approach to the anomaly ahead, but unerringly. Though Anna could not see the conjoined ships that were their goal she trusted Jin. In clear, day-lit skies, she imagined she would have seen the formation hours ago. On this planet, it was entirely possible they would walk straight into a ship hull without Jin.
Shortly after that thought, Jin spoke to all through their comms.
‘We are nearing the site,’ he said. ‘You should see the shadow directly ahead. Be vigilant. Be safe.’
The human eye, which often lied, couldn’t see anything in the gloom and the glowing ice. The ice field was a desert. Plenty of water, but no rain. The wind howled, blasting at them, growing stronger the closer to the their goal they reached. Knowing their goal was close robbed Anna of her energy.
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