by Tobias Wade
“If it weren’t for Sali,” Amore continued, “you’d all be hanging around, joking with friends beside the prison pool, or whatever they do in there. But no, they sent us on the Galactic Express because Sali is a thief, and she got caught, and it was her upgrade that —” Bzzzt, an electrical spasm shuddered through Amore’s spine. She coughed politely into her hand before continuing in a deadly calm.
“It was her mother who arranged for the Galactic Express. Gamber wanted Sali gone for good, and she’d already reached the maximum annual murder permits. The Humanists wouldn’t launch Sali alone, so they made Gamber finance this whole stupid expedition. And she did, and it cost her a fortune, but she did it anyway just to know she wouldn’t have to share an asteroid with her disgraceful daughter ever again. Now we’re all getting punished for something you did, so thanks a lot, Sali.”
“Now hold on there a minute,” Ramnus said without any confidence that a minute would be enough to figure out what was coming next.
“And to think, I thought we had something,” Harris Johnson said, hand over his eyes in shame. “I risked my life for you, Sali! You’ve let us all down.”
“Amore is obviously making it up. You really think my mother would have… well… maybe…”
“It happened. It’s the truth, and I know it, and now everybody knows it,” Amore crowed. “I think it’s only fair to lock her up, don’t you?”
“Are you sure that’s necessary, dear?” Elden asked. “You must be able to tell by looking at her that she already feels like dirty, dirty garbage.”
“Pretty much,” Sali admitted.
“I think that’s punishment enough,” Elden concluded. “Don’t you, dear?”
“Even if that was true, then you should blame Gamber, not me,” Sali added, stubbornly crossing her arms. “If you lock me up, then who is going to stop that mad woman from flying us into a black hole? And what the Hell, Elden? Is that really all you got? How obvious can it be that she thinks you’re pathetic?”
“Strong, but fair,” Amore replied thoughtfully.
“Don’t let her boss you around like that,” Sali insisted. “Be a man, stand up, and demand the full truth from your woman.”
One of Amore’s hands snapped through the air to gracefully hush Elden’s lips. “I don’t need to boss anyone, not when the rest of the crew are already on my side. We’re going to vote like we did before, and Elden and I both trust the Quasi Crystal to teleport us through the black hole.”
“If you’ll just give me a moment, dear,” Elden said with about the right amount of indignation for receiving the wrong coffee, which was still a lot for him. He brushed Amore’s hand away from his mouth, causing her to lurch backward aghast as though she’d been slapped. Elden’s vertebra scaled to unfamiliar heights during his presentation, straightening his back by several degrees.
“I don’t like it when you speak for me,” Elden asserted. That was as far as he got before his highest vertebra got a look at the view, got scared, and came tumbling down a few more notches to huddle with the others. “And I say Amore really does seem to know what she’s doing, so we should trust her about the black hole. But I really put my foot down about Sali being locked up… for too long. She really was doing a good job with the ship.”
Sali shook her head in disbelief, feeling more pity for Elden than she did for herself.
“Good good, that’s two votes for my way. And what does the great Captain Harris say to being the first Captain to travel through a black hole? You’ll be a legend.”
“I can always count on you to help put down a mutiny,” Harris replied. “You know, I’ve had more than my share of being locked up; it feels pretty nice to be the one doing the locking for a change.”
“Three to one,” Amore concluded.
“I’m sorry, Sali,” Elden said, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t blame you even if your mother launched us. You really shouldn’t have stolen something though…”
“You murdered someone!” Sali gesticulated wildly enough to hail three hover cabs at rush hour.
A flash of anger passed across Amore’s face, gone almost as swiftly as it arrived.
“I’ve thought about it, and I know how I’m going to vote,” Ramnus said at last.
“It’s too late, you idiot!” Sali shouted. “They’ve already got three on their side, that’s the majority. Your support is worthless.”
“My vote might not make a difference, but I’d like to be locked up with you, if I may,” Ramnus asked politely. “I’ve still got a job to do, after-all.”
“Gee, I’m saved.”
Ramnus obediently sat down beside Sali as the metal door slammed shut on the pair of them. Taking it upon herself to be the mature one, Sali shouted: “Fine! Lock me up! I didn’t want to play with you anyway.”
“Don’t worry, Sali, it’s only a matter of time before they realize they need you,” Ramnus said peacefully. “When I first started working at Morolox, nobody showed me any respect either. But I still showed up to work every day and did my job, and before you know it…”
“They got rid of you for good.”
“Oh no. Not for good. We’ll make it home yet, I just know it.”
On the other side of the door, Sali heard Elden ask: “You aren’t really a Cyber, are you dear?”
“You want to start believing the girl who called you pathetic? Believe her over me?”
“Now hold on a moment, you always turn it around on me like that. I am a man, Amore, a man with his own opinion that deserves as much respect as any other! And if you don’t—”
“Harris Johnson!” Amore shrieked. “Are you really going to stand there and let him speak to me that way?”
“There are three of us left, and I vote Elden gets locked up with them,” Harris said confidently.
“Second,” Amore added without hesitation.
“I vote against!” Elden said desperately. “Against!”
“By two votes to one, you are overruled.”
The door boomed open once again. Elden hung in the air, a hairy hand gripping the stretchy jumpsuit at either end of his back. Harris Johnson heaved back and forth twice before releasing the poor soul into the cryogenic chamber. The door slammed once more, leaving only Harris and Amore on the other side.
“Wait a second, now it’s three to two!” Elden protested, pounding on the door with his fist. “I say we vote not to be locked up anymore!”
“And skip the black hole!” Sali insisted.
“By the Humanist laws, prisoners aren’t allowed to vote,” Harris said through the door. “100% of the eligible vote goes to keeping you locked up. We also vote that you get locked up for longer every time you break the rules, including the rule about you not being able to vote.”
“That is very good planning, I like that,” Amore said. “I can really see the Captain bulging out of you now.”
“It’s so gratifying to see the pillar of democracy holding strong even in this barbaric world we’ve found ourselves in,” Harris agreed.
Sali didn’t need bionic ears to hear the rough grating of metal on metal as something heavy was slid into place, sealing them in. She ran to the door and attempted to open it anyway. It rattled uselessly in place, much like all those unnecessary emotions screaming at each other in the background of her head. She sighed angrily and rested her back against the steel, allowing her weight to slide morosely to the ground with a soft tuft. There wasn’t enough friction on the smooth metal to prevent a rather loud wamp instead. She groaned more piteously than a hungover sailor who, sick with drink, was lost and alone at sea with his mother in law.
“Did you see me? I stood up to her, I really did!” Elden beamed. “Sure I wanted to give in, but I stood strong. I think the trick is deciding which of my thoughts are me, and which are her voice inside my head. And then telling all those other thoughts to mind their own business, ha ha!”
“You did your best there, buddy,” Sali said. In doing so she inadvertently gave B
uddy the janitor a recurring nightmare for years, haunting him with the question of how Sali could have pierced through the simulation to recognize his inner struggle. That terrible secret that he’d never spoken of to anyone. A single tear ran down his cheek, losing itself within his itchy mustache that he hated, but wore in order to conceal himself from that truly, ghastly, shocking thing that only he knew about himself.
Sali obliviously turned to Ramnus, adding: “You know it really didn’t help having you locked up with me a second time. I would have been fine in here alone.”
“But you weren’t alone,” Draith said, peaking around the side of the cryogenic tank.
Sali jumped. Ramnus jumped. Elden jumped. Hallum watching on the broadcast jumped. It was remarkable how one could become so engrossed with their sense of injustice at the world that they could completely forget the alien child, now locked in with them.
“Um, I wasn’t actually trying to keep you company,” Ramnus said. “I stayed because I was worried about keeping you safe.”
“Oh, fancy that,” Elden said. “My boy’s first words.” Then receiving sharp glances from the others, he spluttered out: “No, no, you’re right. I think Amore and I really do need to talk more before a final decision about that is… in fact, I’m quite sure I’d rather not be responsible for the alien thing.”
“My name is Draith, and I’m not a thing,” the boy said, slowly blinking his glassy yellow eyes. “I’m sorry for killing some of you, I didn’t realize you cared about staying alive.”
“Um, yeah, that’s really the biggest thing we care about, actually,” Sali said.
“I’m getting better at being human. Will you help me practice?”
Sali pursed her lips, exchanging an uncertain glance with the others.
Unfinished Reality
Senator Hallum was in a bad mood. That didn’t happen often, although the Masks working at block D14 might disagree considering how often Hallum threatened to boil, flay, or variously dismember them into vats of acid. Threatening people was one of the things Hallum genuinely enjoyed the most, however, and he was typically in a very good mood when everyone else thought he was furious.
“B-but Malberry called to say—” the Mask stammered.
“The Galactic Express is mine,” Senator Hallum growled. “I’ll leave when I’m finished.”
His fingers danced across the console through routines so practiced they had become a natural extension of his body. As if something as trivial as a legal authority could give Malberry mastery over his world. Hallum executed the function he was implementing to strip the antiviral powers from Amore—and just in time too. Her attempt to destroy Draith was evidence that Malberry had already established contact with her, although if they both were really receiving orders from Gamber, then perhaps he’d had a secret channel all along. Hallum’s console should have been the only input method, but it was conceivable that one of Amore’s cyber components had continued to receive a signal even while her physical body slept.
A small voice in the back of Hallum’s head persisted in complaining that this was not the right thing to do. The voice said that a Senator’s job was to follow the law, protect people from harm, and most importantly, always give them something to be angry about so they don’t take it out on the family cat. Humanity would be poorer for never having rolled the dice though, and for the first time in Hallum’s life, he felt that he was making a decision that could shape the future of humanity. Whatever other blundering Malberry did now, he no longer had the power to destroy Draith.
“Come on, come on,” Hallum muttered impatiently, conscious of the growing number of Masks assembling behind him. “Amore? Can you hear me? The simulation can’t reproduce the physics of a black hole. What are you trying to do?”
“I’m here to clean up your mess, Senator.”
Hallum scowled at Buddy the janitor, or more accurately, at the glorious mustache which preceded the janitor into the room. Double mops were strapped crosswise across his back, his fingers twitching above a utility belt so cluttered with cans and spray bottles that even the resilient .01% of germs must cower in fear. The ponderous creak of a huge custodian cart rolled behind him like a medieval siege engine, stacked high with colored sponges, sloshing buckets, and a vacuum hose large enough to inhale a misbehaving child.
“Changing the settings won’t help, Senator. Amore has been instructed not to answer you anymore,” one of the Masks confirmed meekly, wringing his hands and shuffling his feet like the unfortunate sibling who’d been drafted to explain to mother how mud got on the ceiling. “There’s a hover pod waiting for you outside. It’s one of the nice ones with twelve cup holders and a reinforced bumper in case you wanted to hit someone on the way home.”
“I didn’t order a pod. Back off, Buddy—there will be no exploding heads today.” Hallum flung himself back into the code, typing furiously with the sort of passion his wife had never encountered.
“Buddy is going to finish what you couldn’t,” Malberry’s voice called as he entered across the room. “I didn’t expect to find you back here, now that you don’t have the clearance anymore.” A pair of Masks flanked Malberry, each conspicuously wearing rubber gloves and a flowered shower cap.
“These Masks are loyal to me,” Hallum retorted. “If they were brave enough to drag me out, they would have done it already.
“Who are? Do you mean Francis here? Or perhaps Emanuel?” Malberry goaded, gesturing to the Masks flanking him.
“Yes, yes, all my men!”
“My name’s not Francis,” one of the Masks said despondently. “You would have known that if you ever read your birthday card.”
“Metaphorically Francis!” Hallum insisted. “How am I supposed to tell you apart with your masks on?”
“You should at least be able to tell I’m not a man,” the one who was not Emanuel said in an ambiguously manly voice. She sniffed back tears through the air filter like a garbage disposal clogged with cottage cheese. “I can’t believe you, Senator.”
“Have you tried threatening our families, sir? That usually does the trick,” Buddy said, knocking his cart against one of the computing towers on purpose. It swayed precariously as several cables slipped from their sockets. Hallum abandoned his console to rush and plug them in again, having to stand on top of one of the beds in order to reach. Elden groaned in his sleep, mumbling something about a dream within a dream.
“Alright alright, if that’s what you need,” Hallum acquiesced. “I’ll melt all your faces and draw them back with a marker. Get out of here with that thing, this is very sensitive equipment.”
“It’s no good, Senator Hallum,” Malberry drawled. “I’ve already threatened them with something twice as bad.”
“He said it would be my job to monitor the senator’s virtual sex gymnasium if we didn’t shut this place down right away,” Buddy confessed, shuddering all the way to the tip of his mustache. “So that’s it then. Show is over. It’s time to go home.”
Hallum stepped down from the bed and glared ferociously at Malberry as he waddled his way to the console. “The least you can do is tell me what you’re up to with the black hole.”
“Gamber explained it all to me,” Malberry drawled with satisfaction. “Whenever one of the Morolox virtual experiments got out of control, she’d feed the simulation something it couldn’t handle, like a black hole. The intelligence will become so overloaded so quickly trying to process the massive entropy that it will become hopelessly distracted, and that’s when we purge it.”
“It will fight back,” Hallum warned, suspiciously eyeing Buddy’s cleaning equipment like a bachelor before a date. “Even if you’re able to isolate the virus again, these eighteen lives still mean something. If not to you, then to me.”
Malberry shrugged. “One way or another, the problem will be solved. The citizens of Pria may tolerate robbery, and polluted air, and violence in the streets, but internet shortages? As long as we save the internet, no one will care w
hat happens to the prisoners.”
“He’s right, you know,” not-Emanuel added unhelpfully. “I’d rather lose my pension than my internet.”
“The internet can’t really go down, can it?” not-Francis asked. “How are we even supposed to know if the internet is down without being able to check on the internet?”
The other Mask scratched the back of his head with a rubber glove. “Got a point there, you do. I suppose we’d be furious, but then again we wouldn’t be able to connect with all the people telling us to be furious. The people will be very confused.”
“And being confused would make us absolutely furious,” agreed the other Mask, coming round full circle.
“No one is suggesting humans can live without the network!” Hallum snapped, watching in horror as Malberry’s greasy fingers pecked at the keys one at a time. “When you ask Gamber to finance your campaign, are you going to tell her what happened to her only daughter?”
“I’m not a monster,” Malberry mused. “A mother deserves to know why her daughter died. That’s why I was waiting outside until you disabled Amore’s antivirus. Now I’ll be able to put all the blame on you. Really, you’re so predictable going rogue like that. What on Pria has gotten into you, risking everything you’ve worked for to preserve some malicious code? There’s no beating around the intern with this one: your conduct is unbecoming of a Senator.”
And that was the truth, Hallum thought. It wasn’t an accident that society had come to this point. If the only way to hold onto power was to act in your own self-interest, then it should be no surprise that the Malberrys of the world should outlast the Hallums every time. There was no more good he could do here anyway. He’d always used the Quasi Crystal to communicate with the prisoners before, and with that gone and Amore having betrayed him, he had no way to get a message through in time. The Galactic Express would pass through the black hole, Draith would be destroyed, likely taking eighteen lives with him. And for everyone else life would go on, hurtling endlessly toward nowhere forevermore.
