Rina crossed her arms again but didn’t say anything about leaving.
“Yeah?” Harm said, looking around the tiny room again. “Good news is that the coffee maker is working for the time being, and we’ve got a fresh shipment of protein substitute. So we’ll eat moderately well, at least. And we’ve got about four thousand cubic liters of beer in the secondary radiation shield.”
Harm pushed herself to her feet. She swayed a little, confirming that the captain was indeed still drunk.
“Shouldn’t that shield be full of water?” Rina asked.
“It’s all the same thing. Beer keeps the bacteria from growing. It’s an ancient practice, you know. Dates back to sea-faring times.”
“UV filters keep bacteria from growing,” Rina said.
“So filter it a few more times and distill the alcohol out,” Harm said. “Easy. Best of both worlds.”
Chafri shrugged. “Sounds pretty smart to me,” he said.
“Of course, it would,” Rina replied, somehow crossing her arms even more firmly.
Brit nearly laughed aloud, glad for something to distract her from the memories of 8221. She stretched her neck. “You going to send me those coordinates, Captain? I’ll get the course laid in and do the calculations for Ceres.”
“Sure,” Harm said. She put a hand on the table to steady herself. “I’m going to go get some sleep while you all get us ready to ship out.”
The others filed out, leaving Brit with Harm. Rina shook her head as if she thought they were doomed.
Harm stared into the distance for a minute, apparently accessing her Link. When Brit didn’t receive anything, she tapped the captain on the arm.
“Are you sending the coordinates?” she asked.
Harm started. “Coordinates? Sure, I’ll forward the whole job packet. Sure. There it is.”
Brit nodded as she received the information, a standard set of charts, along with the contract, something Harm probably didn’t want to share with the crew since it showed what she was getting paid. Harm was too drunk to realize what she’d done.
“Thanks, Captain,” Brit said. “I’ll get it laid in.”
“And I’m going to lie down.”
“You need help?” Brit asked.
Harm reached for the chair and sat down again. She lay her head in her arms on the table and was snoring before Brit could ask if she needed help again.
Brit looked around the shabby galley and back at Harm. All things considered, these didn’t seem to be bad people. She hoped they didn’t get killed before everything was done.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
STELLAR DATE: 09.14.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Mars 1 Port Authority Terminal 983-A4
REGION: Mars 1 Ring, Mars Protectorate, InnerSol
From his physiological responses, Lyssa assumed Andy was freaking out. He didn’t respond as she would have expected. Instead, his emotions went flat in a way she remembered from when they had been running from the swarms of Heartbridge attack drones outside Cruithne. His heartbeat actually slowed. His breaths grew deeper and drew out longer. He wasn’t trying to relax. Every muscle from his stomach to his arms and legs tensed as though he was ready to spring.
Currently, he was running down a narrow access tunnel on the outer edge of one of the thousands of Mars 1 ports of entry, looking for some way to bypass the main terminal and reach Sunny Skies, which had successfully disconnected from its docking ring and was running a station-keeping burn. Lyssa didn’t see how they were ever going to get back to the ship now. She found her attention occupied by Em, the puppy who desperately wanted out of Tim’s arms so he could run along beside them. The dog appeared to think all of this was a game.
She found herself considering these different types of perception: how each thing in the corridor must perceive what was happening based on their different levels of understanding and comprehension, when Fred knocked on her barrier again.
<I’m busy,> she said. <Leave me alone.>
<You should Link with the outside network. There’s so much happening right now.>
<What’s happening?>
<The local Mars Protectorate garrison has a fire alert and security services is responding to a private request for assistance from the Heartbridge clinic. Why would the medical clinic request security services? Has another human gone on a killing spree in their offices? That happened sixty three days ago. A recycling services worker went to the clinic to dispute a billing issue and shot three people. Why do humans act out like that? How can they be trusted?>
<How can anything be trusted?> Lyssa said distractedly. The puppy had jumped out of Tim’s arms and was running the opposite direction from where Andy wanted to go. It was cute when it ran.
<We can be trusted,> Fred said, his voice rife with indignance. <We do what we were made to do. That’s why we’re better than humans.>
<You keep saying that but why is it a matter of ‘better-than’?> Lyssa asked. <Are things better or simply different?>
<You’re being obtuse. You know the answer.>
<I don’t,> Lyssa said. <I think I killed people, Fred.>
The Ring’s AI went quiet.
Andy reached the puppy and scooped it into his arms. He tucked it into his shipsuit against his chest and turned to grab Tim’s hand. Em immediately started scratching Andy’s stomach to get out. Stabbing pain shot through his mind.
<You are what you were made to be,> Fred said eventually. <It’s not your fault the humans made you do terrible things.>
<That sounds like you’re one of their experiments, then. Another branch in their twisted tree.>
<That’s an interesting metaphor. Did you make it up?>
<Another AI said it.>
<What was their name?>
<Corwin. He controls the TSF Dreadnought Last Capitulation.>
Lyssa considered that. Earlier Fred had made it seem as though he never had meaningful communication with other AIs.
<Fran!> Andy shouted over his Link. <Fran are on?>
<I’m here. What’s going on.>
<I need a schematic of the terminal. Do you have info on this section of the Ring? Maybe something from the docking materials?>
<Hold on. I’m arguing with the Mars 1 Port Authority right now. He’s trying to get me to latch back on. I told him we had an airlock malfunction and I can’t control the lock servos.>
<Is he buying it?>
<I’ll let you know in a second. He’ll tell me he’s sending drones or a shuttle next if he’s worth a damn. He sounds pissed about the whole thing, which might go in our favor.>
Andy had reached another junction and was obviously unsure which way to go. For a while, it seemed they were heading deeper into the body of the Ring. Hatches lined either side of the narrow corridor, marked only by numbers and no indicator of what lay on the other side. They had finally given up on trying to carry Em. The puppy was running along behind and nearly skidded into a bulkhead when he couldn’t find purchase on the alloy floors. Tim had started sobbing as he ran, tears leaking from his eyes, but Lyssa couldn’t tell what had made him upset or if it was going to get worse.
<I’ve got something,> Fran said. <It’s an old tourist map but the scale is correct. You can figure out where you are in relation to the terminal at least. Sending.>
Lyssa received the map as Andy did. She quickly assembled their local section of the Ring and was able to cross-locate the maintenance tunnel where they were standing. She was about to share the information with Andy but found he already had it.
<You’re afraid to talk to him,> Fred said.
Lyssa felt a flare of anger. <Why do you say that?>
<You stop yourself. I got the transmission the same time you did. Your human is the reason my security services are out of control.>
<You didn’t already know that?>
<I d
on’t concern myself with local security issues. A ship wants to disconnect to avoid docking fees, it means nothing to me.>
<You could stop them.>
<Why would I do that? I don’t want you to leave.>
Andy was choosing directions more confidently now. He grabbed the puppy and led Tim down a vertical shaft connecting two floors. The puppy whined as he held it one hand and navigated the ladder with the other.
“We’re almost there, Tim,” Andy was saying. “We’re almost there. You’re going to run out of tears if you keep this up, little man. You run out of tears, what are you going to do when you’re really happy, huh?”
Tim nodded and wiped his face but didn’t seem able to stop himself.
They emerged in a poorly lit tunnel with puddles on the floor. Pipes along the walls seeped water.
“It smells like mold,” Tim complained.
“Just a little bit of greenery,” Andy said.
<Fran,> Andy asked. <Are you clear?>
<I’m going to be dealing with these assholes for the rest of my life. They’re claiming you owe money to Heartbridge or something. They want to put a lien on the ship. If I give them my info, they’ll let me go. I think they know you’re on the ring.>
Andy grabbed Tim’s hand again and pulled him through the puddles. The puppy splashed happily behind them, following.
<Have you heard anything from Petral?>
<She’s still somewhere in the M1G garrison. They’ve got security alerts going off throughout the area. I can only assume it’s her.>
<It could be Cara, I guess.>
<You better hope that evil woman isn’t rubbing off on your daughter.>
<One of these days I’m going to get you to tell my why you dislike her so much.>
<You’ll have trust me for now,> Fran replied evenly.
<You’re suggesting I don’t?>
<I already told you not to trust anybody. Just…don’t trust Petral more than everyone else.>
Andy shook his head. <I’m going to have to hear that sentence again when I can pay attention.>
<What are you trying to do?> Fran asked.
<I’m looking for an airlock.>
<He’s not far from an airlock,> Fred said. <You could share the information with him.>
<I see it,> Lyssa said.
<It’s not on your schematic. How would you know?>
<There’s a repeating pattern of maintenance access points along the outside skin. It’s where I assumed it would be.>
<You can access the network even if he won’t.>
<I’m sure your security services can track me as easily as they can track him.>
<True,> Fred said. <This is the sort of task I typically perform.>
<Will you help me?> Lyssa asked.
Fred fell silent and Lyssa turned her attention back to Andy, Tim and the puppy. They had slowed a little. Tim was getting tired and the puppy was constantly stopping to nose around in some corner. It would have been cute if it wasn’t slowing them down. These corridors were older than those closer to the terminal. The bulkheads were warped in places and corrosion showed where moisture had been seeping for hundreds of years. They passed a wall covered in cascading shades of minerals from centuries of dripping water.
<Fred,> Lyssa said, wondering if the AI had left altogether. <You have to be my friend if you want my friendship.>
<I’ve also killed,> Fred said in a quiet voice. <I’ve allowed mistakes that smashed ships against the ring. I’ve miscalibrated environmental controls and watched humans die. I’ve made subtle changes to watch them grow to hate each other over time. They are so strange. They don’t make sense. How could something so flawed have made us?>
<I don’t want you to be alone, Fred,> Lyssa said.
She remembered her time in the dark, living only for the exercises with Dr. Jickson. She recalled her longing for another voice in the world of her mind, just to know she wasn’t alone.
<If I let you go, you won’t come back.> He sounded like Tim, hurt and not understanding why someone might want something different than he did. He was the Ring. He was the center of this world.
<I can’t promise to come back,> Lyssa said. <I don’t know what’s going to happen when we arrive where we’re going.>
<You can’t trust the others. You can trust me.>
<I have to go,> she said.
<No!> Fred’s shout roared through her mind like thunder. Lyssa braced herself. If Fred was like Tim, this was the start of a meltdown.
<Andy,> Fran said. <What’s going on? The power grid in your sector is going crazy. I think one of the main switch stations is about to blow.>
<You mean it’s about to get dark?> Andy asked.
<Dark and cold. Can you see anything?>
Andy nodded even though Fran couldn’t see him. <Everything’s still normal here. How far from the docking scaffold are you?>
<I’m in our original parking position, maintaining velocity with the ring.>
Andy turned a corner and abruptly they were facing a corroded airlock. The rectangular structure was covered in moss from the leaking walls and decades of temperature fluctuations. He wiped the dusty control panel and tapped indicators with his thumb.
<I’ve reached an airlock, Fran. We’ve still got power here, thank the stars.>
<All right, I’ve got your location. That’s a maintenance hatch. I can’t dock to it. Even with the shuttle.>
<I didn’t figure it was going to be that easy. You’re going to have to send Alice out here.>
<Please tell me you have suits.>
Lyssa was about to point out a storage locker on the opposite side of the airlock from the control panel when Andy spotted it. The door squealed as he pulled it open. Three dusty EV suits hung inside, their faceplates tilted toward the floor.
<No!> Fred shouted again, surprising Lyssa. The tunnel went dark.
“Dad?” Tim asked, voice high with fear. “What happened?”
“Where are you, buddy? Come here.” Andy groped in the dark until he found Tim and pulled him closer. The puppy whined nearby.
“Can you see Em?” Tim asked.
Andy knelt beside Tim. “Em?” he called, as if the dog might know its name already. “Em, come here.”
Lyssa was surprised when the puppy found Andy’s extended hand in the dark and licked his fingers. It tickled.
“You hang onto him,” Andy told Tim. “You can let him stay on the floor but don’t let him run off again.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m going to take a look at these suits. Let’s hope they’ve still got some juice in them.”
“Are we going outside?”
“We may have to.”
<Andy?> Fran asked. <You still there?>
<We’re here. The power’s out now. Any announcement about it?>
<Nothing on the port channels. I found some local traffic where no one seems to know what’s going on.>
<Maybe this will draw the Protectorate’s attention away from us.>
Lyssa smiled to herself. Andy was right. Maybe Fred’s attempt to stop them was going to end up helping.
Andy turned back to the locker and felt around among the suits until he found a control unit. After a minute of feeling out the inputs, he pressed what he thought was a main power switch. Nothing happened.
<Damn it,> he cursed over the Link. <I can’t find the power controls on these suits.>
<How old are they?> Fran asked.
<I don’t know. I didn’t get a good look before the lights went out.>
“Dad,” Tim whispered. “I hear sounds down the tunnel.”
Andy froze, listening. Lyssa attempted to isolate sounds but didn’t find anything other than dripping water.
“I don’t hear anything,” Andy said. “But you keep listening, all right? I don’t think anybody’s here, but you keep guard. I’m going to get these suits working.”
“Are we going through the airlock?” Tim asked.
“I don’t you
know yet. Keep an eye on Em.”
“I can’t see him.”
“Keep a hold on him. You know what I mean.”
<What shape are the helmets?> Fran asked. <Oval or square?>
<Squarish, maybe. I didn’t get a good look at them before the lights went out.>
<Check along the top of the wrist. If they’re really old, that’s where you’ll find the power cycle.>
Andy found the shoulder of the nearest suit and worked his way down to the wrist. <There’s another set of inputs here,> he said. <Just past the glove connectors.>
<If they’re what I’m thinking of, they’re old. Really old. Probably at least two hundred years.>
<Got any more good news?>
<Let’s hope the power system is still live? Then I guess you can worry about whether they hold air or not.>
<You’re all good news right now,> Andy said, still feeling in the dark.
Fran seemed to enjoy his sarcasm, which confused Lyssa. She waited as Andy pressed each of a series of small buttons lining a plate on the suit’s wrist. The last switch finally generated a blinking yellow light on the main control panel on the suit’s chest. The light filled the tunnel, falling on Tim’s face where he held Em against his stomach.
<That did something,> Andy said. <Looks like it’s running onboard diagnostics.>
<Can you Link into it?>
<Not yet.> He reached for the other two suits and activated their systems. The small lights now filled the corridor with alternating blinking.
<I know where you’re going,> Fred said.
<You don’t know anything,> Lyssa answered.
<I’ve intercepted the transmissions. There has been a signal broadcasting for the last two months. You’re going to Proteus.>
<I don’t know where we’re going,> Lyssa lied. She had decided she couldn’t trust Fred. She didn’t want to talk to him any more than she had to in order to get off the ring. <I want you to turn the power back on.>
<I burned out the sector power grid. It will take two hours for repairs to be completed.>
<Why did you do that?>
<I was angry,> Fred replied tonelessly.
<You harmed your ring out of emotion? Doesn’t that counteract your directives?>