by C H Gideon
The Ascedian grunted. “It’s my job. Or was, until we landed on a technology-free planet. These chips look a lot like what we use.”
“Athena is from thousands of light-years from here,” Geroux said. “How could they look familiar?”
Pine did his wave-like shrug. “Maybe others from her planet traveled here in the past. Hang on,” he said, jumping up and opening doors and drawers. He returned a few minutes later with a handful of tools. “We can connect this, and this...”
“Did your species develop your own computer systems, or were they imported from another space-faring race?” Geroux asked. “Or maybe your planet was colonized by the Jeranthans?”
“I dunno,” Pine said, absently. “We probably imported some of it. But Ascedians have lived on Ascedies for millions of years. We…” His voice trailed off as he fiddled with the interface. “There. You should be able to access the rest of this memory bank now.”
Geroux tapped a few buttons and smiled. “Nice! I can see this whole section. What are these black sections? It looks like someone burned out the connections.”
“You’re right,” Pine said. “Those appear to be a deliberate attempt to isolate this whole section. Can you see what’s on this bit? I’ll try to reconnect—”
“NO!” Athena said. “That section is isolated for a reason. Do not attempt to access it. I gave you permission to look at the unused bank. I don’t appreciate you probing into my internal systems beyond that firewall.”
The three froze. “Sorry, Athena,” Takal finally said. “We didn’t mean to intrude. Our scientific curiosity got the better of us. It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t,” Athena said. A small bot zipped through a hatch in the ceiling and down the wall. With quick, precise movements, it replaced the chips and snapped the panel shut. Then it scuttled away. “I withdraw my offer. Please leave this section of the ship immediately.” The door slid open.
They scrambled to their feet and moved into the corridor.
“Guess we touched a nerve,” Pine said. “What do you think that was all about?”
“You wouldn’t like someone poking around inside your circuits,” Athena said.
We need somewhere private to talk, Geroux said. Or some way to tell Pine to shut up.
“Shut up, Pine,” Takal muttered.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maddox rubbed the back of his neck. The headache was finally subsiding. He picked up the wooden tumbler and chugged the rest of the water. “You’ve been here forty-three years?”
“Takal says that’s about twelve of our standard years,” Jiya said. “I’m surprised you didn’t scavenge the life pods.”
“The ocean is deep here,” Flower said. “We were lucky to get to shore. Some of our people were lost.” She looked up, holding her hands to the sky, then lowering them in a circular fashion. “We’ve built a temporary home, but we keep hoping for rescue. So far, you’re the first. I guess our transponders aren’t working.”
“We didn’t see any energy signatures when we arrived,” Jiya said. “We would have noticed a transmitter. Your people probably don’t know what happened to you.”
“Let me get this straight,” Maddox said. “You’ve been here for ten years, waiting for rescue. Just lying in the sun and getting drunk?”
“Maddox!” Jiya cried.
“Actually, that’s pretty accurate,” Flower said. “There’s not a lot to do. The planet provides plenty of food, so agriculture is unnecessary. We built these shelters and have developed clothing, but none of us knows how to create the technology that would allow us to return to Ascedies, so we wait.”
“I guess ‘Margaritaville’ was a good name,” Maddox said.
Jiya snorted and shook her head. “Do you want to stay, or would you like to go home?”
Flower’s eyes grew wide. “We would love to go home. I’m sure that’s why Pine snuck aboard your ship. He was hoping to catch a ride.”
“By himself? On a ship going who knows where?” Jiya asked.
“He was drunk,” Maddox said. “Based on my experience with that fruit, I’m sure it seemed like a great idea at the time.”
“Will you take us home?” Flower asked. “Maybe not all of us, but one or two, and we can come back and get the rest. In fact, maybe we’ll build a resort here. This could be lucrative.” She gazed around the homey platform. “Warm weather, alcohol, beaches… Have you seen the beaches?”
“Not yet,” Maddox said. “That was on the schedule after setting up camp. Which was interrupted.”
“We’ll show you,” Flower said. “The best one—"
“We can’t take you home,” Jiya interrupted. “We have a mission. But maybe Athena can. Seems to me she’s built for your people.” She held a hand out as if measuring Flower. “Just about the right size.”
“The ship is veering again!” Ria said. “Helm is trying to take control from me. Every time I correct his path, he changes it!” She slapped a button. “Helm, you have bad data! Do not burn the number two attitude control thruster! I’m sending new data.”
“Helm,” Reynolds said. “You’re relieved! Let Alcott drive the fucking ship!”
“She’s going to crash us into the moon!” Helm hollered back. “Can’t you see it? She’s crazy!”
“XO, can you talk some sense into him?” Reynolds said.
“H-h-he’s not l-l-listening to me,” XO said. “And I’m not sure he’s wrong, incorrect, erroneous. I have n-n-no access to external d-d-data at this time, moment, juncture.”
“I’m going over there,” Reynolds said, springing out of his chair and nearly hitting his head on the ceiling. “XO is getting worse, Doc isn’t answering, and Helm is going crazy. Has anyone heard from Tactical at all? My armor and an EVA suit will protect me from the cold for a few hours.”
“I’m going with you,” Asya said.
“No, you stay here,” Reynolds said. “I won’t endanger anyone else.”
“You can’t go alone!” Asya replied.
“It’s my ship,” Reynolds said with a glare. “I was alone there for a very long time. I don’t need a babysitter. I do need my crew here to keep my ship safe. Help Alcott.” He stormed out the door.
I’ll go, Geroux said. He’s too big to pilot Athena’s shuttle.
I don’t think he’s taking a shuttle, Asya said. He’s headed for the boarding tube.
But it isn’t connected! Geroux said.
No, but we’re close enough to do a free jump wearing the EVA suit, Asya said. Standard technique for boarding when the tube won’t work.
Geroux and Takal ran for the boarding hatch, but by the time they arrived, Reynolds had already cycled through the airlock. He looked through the thick window in the hatch.
Stay there. That’s an order. Without another word, he pushed off and flew through the void to his ship.
Geroux and Takal scrambled into EVA gear, ignoring Reynolds’ words. Pine tried to help, handing them things they didn’t need at inconvenient times.
“Just stay out of the way,” Geroux said. “Please!” The little simian retreated to the top of a cupboard.
I’m locking the hatch, Reynolds said. And changing the keys. Stay on Athena.
Geroux ran to the airlock, staring out the window. “He’s inside.” Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sure we could hack in, but—”
Takal sat heavily on a bench.
“Why are you trying to follow him?” Pine asked. “Isn’t he the captain?”
“He is, but he’s also the ship,” Takal said. “The ship’s circuits have been damaged, and we’re not sure how that’s affecting his decision-making processes.”
“He could burn some pathways like Athena did,” Pine said. “Seal off the bad parts.”
Geroux stared at the little alien. “Do you think that’s what happened here? Athena was infested by the same fungus? Maybe those burned-out patches were her attempt to protect the rest of the ship? Is that what happened, Athena?”
>
The ship didn’t answer for a few moments. Then, with a realistic-sounding sigh, she said, “I don’t know why I sealed off those sections.”
“Don’t you keep a log of that kind of activity?” Pine asked.
“Yes, but it only says they were sequestered. Not why.”
“Would you like us to see what’s on those sections?” Pine asked. “I can download the information to an isolated computer and tell you what’s there.”
“Do it,” Athena whispered.
Reynolds, Asya called. Status?
Nominal, Reynolds growled. Reynolds out. He ran through the ship, leaping through bulkhead doors and skidding around corners. The internal hatches had all been opened during decompression and venting, making his progress fast and easy.
XO, report! Reynolds called as he ran.
There was no answer.
Navigation! Helm! Reynolds called.
Nothing.
Tactical?
Doc?
Here, Doc replied, his voice soft.
Glancing around to confirm his location, Reynolds made a swift turn and raced to sickbay. What’s going on?
We’re withdrawing from the damaged areas of the ship, Doc said. The cold has killed the fungus, but the residue of the dead fungus has done something to the circuits. Almost like an acid. And it seems to be spreading. We’re retreating to a secure location, and we’ll need to burn out the connections behind us like a firewall. We’ve already lost external communications.
Are the others all there? Reynolds asked. Did everyone make it?
We’re all here. The voice through the comm took on an echo effect, as if the other almost identical voices had spoken in unison.
It’s like a fucking sardine can in here, Tactical said.
Reynolds let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. What’s next?
We’ll have to burn this final connection, Doc said. If we leave it open, the acid will get to us.
But we won’t be able to talk if you burn this connection! Reynolds said.
Geroux and Takal can probably wire a direct link to us, Comm said. We’re in section twenty-three delta of the main computer banks. A hardwire to an external comm should do the trick. I think. We’ll talk soon.
Wait! Reynolds called, but the connection went dead.
In silence, he walked to the bridge. He looked at the different stations—the empty chairs he’d identified with those other personalities: Comm, Tactical, XO, Helm, and Navigation. The room looked exactly the same as it had back at the very beginning, but now it was empty. Really empty, for the first time in years.
He walked through the ship, listening for voices. No one answered his calls. This was what it would be like if he reintegrated those personalities, he realized. Just him. Sure, he’d have his biological crew. But there would be no one to call them meatbags. No one to complain to. No one who really understood his Earth-based jokes. No one who really understood him.
So many things he hadn’t realized. All this time, he’d been thinking about reintegrating or cutting loose the other personalities, but this ship wouldn’t be the Reynolds without them. They all had their annoying quirks, but those things made them unique. Irreplaceable.
That was it. They were real—real people—companions who had his back, brothers in arms. Sacrificing any of them for the benefit of the others was unthinkable. Without them, he’d be less.
That wasn’t a universe he wanted to live in.
“Trajectory stable,” Ria reported on Athena’s bridge. “Helm isn’t fighting me anymore. In fact, he isn’t answering at all. None of them are.” She spun her chair around to look at Asya. “Are they all right?”
Asya took a deep breath. “I wish I knew. Reynolds is alive—we’ve got biometric data from his armor—but he isn’t answering me. Just keep the ship flying right, Ensign. And keep the faith.”
“He won’t leave you,” Athena said suddenly.
“What?” Asya asked.
“Reynolds won’t leave you,” the ship answered. “That’s the most important thing I’ve learned about him—his loyalty. He wouldn’t leave his shipmates behind. Ever. Not the ones still on the Reynolds, or the ones on the planet, or you here in my ship. He’ll never leave you behind.”
“We know,” Asya said softly. “But thanks.”
“I’ve moved some of these isolated circuits to this test computer,” Pine said. He wasn’t sure if Athena could see what he was doing, so he narrated his actions. “I’m going to run some diagnostics, and then we’ll see if we can retrieve the data.”
Geroux stood nearby, holding one of the hexagonal circuit plates in her gloved hands. “Is the etching part of the design or damage?”
“The individual chips should be smooth,” Athena said. “There’s a clear layer over the silver circuits.”
“These look pretty bad,” Pine said. “I’ll have to run a few filters to pull the data.”
While Pine and Geroux conferred about the best way to recover the information, Takal decided it was time to stop beating around the bush. He took a stand in the middle of the room, hands on hips, glaring at the speaker in the corner. “What are your intentions toward our captain and our ship, Athena?” he demanded.
“Uncle!” Geroux exclaimed.
“What are you talking about?” Athena asked. “I don’t have any intentions.”
“You aren’t planning to kidnap him and run away across the galaxy?” Takal asked, feeling slightly foolish as the words left his mouth.
Athena laughed. “I have enjoyed spending time with him. I’ve learned a lot about AI-biological interfaces.” She paused. “But he and I could never live in the same ship for more than a week or two. He’s already driving me crazy! He’s always right. And he knows he’s always right. But here’s the thing: I’m always right. Two AI egos in one ship is a recipe for disaster.”
“I think that’s why he’s talking about reintegrating his alternate personalities,” Geroux said. “One Reynolds is more than enough ego for a whole ship. Athi said the same thing when we suggested she come back here. She said it would be like moving in with her mother.”
Athena laughed again a little sadly. “I might have liked having Athi here. It might have felt crowded, but that’s better than being lonely.”
“Getting some results,” Pine said. “The isolated chips are non-functional, but I can see what’s encoded on them. I can’t read it, though. Too complicated for me.”
“Let me have a look,” Geroux said, peering at the screen. “This is very high-level programming. I’m not sure what that is, and this piece… No, I don’t know. Oh, dear.” She looked at the ceiling, where she imagined Athena existed. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Athena, but this data looks like it might have been copies. Of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Flower organized her people to help the Reynolds’ crew. Together, they erected tents, collected other foodstuffs for Aaront’s team to test, and set up the rest of the camp.
“When they aren’t partying and playing tricks on the visitors, the Ascedians are amazingly helpful,” Jiya said, watching a pair swarm up a tent pole to mount a signal booster.
Maddox laughed. “That statement probably applies to most species in the universe,” he said. “I’m glad the Pod-docs were able to neutralize the dulchee hangover. That was killer.”
Ka’nak slapped the general on the shoulder, nearly toppling him to the ground. “Your system is weakened by age,” he joked. “I hope to test the powers of this fruit someday.”
Jiya shook her head. “We’ve got four more days on this rock. I’d appreciate it if you’d stay sober, at least when you’re on duty. Maybe you can take some liquor plums to the Reynolds when we go back.” She imagined Ka’nak and Maddox in a firelit bar high in the mountains, locked in a dulchee-eating contest, one bite at a time, until the weaker man collapsed.
“What are you giggling about?” Maddox asked.
“Nothing,” she said,
biting her lip. “Are we going to send a team to check out the beaches? It seems to be a high priority on everyone’s list.”
“We might as well,” Maddox said, rubbing his hands together. “We can’t do anything for Reynolds from here. Nothing wrong with enjoying the wait.”
“Copies of me?” Athena asked. “You mean, another personality? Like Reynolds has?”
Geroux waggled her hand. “I’m not sure. This data looks a lot like Athi’s code on that pirate ship, but as soon as I accessed that, she responded to me. This data isn’t a live AI. It’s—leftovers?”
“We need to find the logs,” Pine said. “There must be a record of what was done and why.”
On the bridge, Ria sat back. “That was exhausting.”
Asya nodded. “But we’re stable now?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the younger officer replied. “I’ve got a flight path locked into Athena’s system, and it’s transmitting to the Reynolds. As long as no one over there tries to take control, it’s clear flying. I’ve set triggers to alert me of any deviance.”
“Well done,” Asya said. She looked at her scans of the ship. “I wonder when we’ll hear from the captain? He’s wandering around the ship.”
“I’ve tried contacting him,” Athena said. “He ignored my first 7,248 calls but responded on the 7,249th. He said the ship is stable and his other personalities are isolated from the rest of the memory banks for the duration. I think he’s moping.”
“Moping?” Asya asked. “Reynolds? He doesn’t mope.”
“If his personalities are isolated from the rest of the ship, they’re likely non-responsive to him as well,” Athena replied. “He might be lonely.”
“He has us!” Ria said.
“Yeah, but I get it,” Asya said with a shrug. “Those alternate identities are like his family. XO is the studious brother, Doc is the wise uncle, Tactical is the rebellious cousin. Family can annoy the hell out of you, but when they’re not around, you miss them.” She sighed. “He has us, but he had them first. And he’s not used to being apart from them.”
