M:
A: Systems ready. Excited to fly. I guess.
M: Destination: Colony 13. Confirm.
A: Confirmed.
Somehow, my systems registered that assarcastic, which was highly concerning for Auto-Nav, a subsystem with very little cognitive processing power. Compiled with earlier evidence, this was unsettling.
Was it upgrading itself based on my new capacity to control theDestitute? It had clearly borrowed from my code when we communicated.
Hmm. I flagged that to discuss with Dutch.
“Ready?” Torian asked, finally taking ahold of the yoke.
“Ready. Path to Colony 13 programmed. With wormhole travel, we will arrive in five hours.”
Torian nodded, and under her control, theDestituteslowly lifted off the dock. She waved again through the flight deck—several of Amelia’s crewmembers had joined her outside their ship, and now they watched as Torian turned theDestitutetoward the airlock. I identified the human known as Bartlet offering a salute before reentering Amelia’s starship.
We slid into space, and the moss growing on the starship’s exterior reported icy, ticklish conditions. As we gained distance from Amelia’s starship, I lost connection to it, same as I had with Colony 13.
That was fine. I’d spoken with Amelia, and that had been my entire goal entering her ship.
Auto-Navigation took over and directed us into a nearby wormhole. The stars went dark, aside from the occasional flashes of blue light. I attempted to identify them, but my database came upempty—whatever the light flashes were, they were random and unidentifiable. The mystery did not bother me; space was like that sometimes.
Torian waited a few minutes more, then pushed away from the control panel. “I guess I’ll finish that starship model. Or maybe read.”
“I am not excited to be returning to Colony 13,” I said.
She paused, glancing at the camera in the flight deck. “You’re not going to be left alone again. Unlike Dutch,Iremember where I park my starships.”
My system tagged that with my humor module. [I disagreed with that assessment.] I asked, “If you move onto Vaesa with Amelia and Celise and Dutch and Zenthielutos, will you still come back to theDestitutesometimes?”
“You’re moving onto the space station with us,” Torian said.
That was partially correct.
Only partially.
“My central system is on this ship. It is a permanent fixture.” All of my higher functions connected to the tower in the engine room. It housed everything: my databanks, my archives, my conversation modules. Without the central system, the speakers of this ship, the microphones and cameras, I was just… moss.
“Moss is superior,” I said, to clarify.
She seemed confused at that, slowly sinking back into the pilot’s chair. This time, though, she faced my camera, which was unnerving. Her fingers inched closer to my moss colony on the dashboard, but she did not touch me.
[For the first time, I wondered if it would be terrible if she did.]
“I’m starting to think that it’s… not okay you’re confined here,” Torian said.
[She was the first person to voice that.]
I didn’t respond.
Torian tapped the dash, and the vibration was a form of communication to my moss colony. Plant-to-plant vibrations were like conversation. This was a loudTHUMP THUMP THUMP, which equated toSOMEONE IS STANDING NEARBY AND MIGHT HARM THE COLONY.
Torian would not be aware of that communication. This wasbecause humansthoughtthey were perceptive, but in truth they were oblivious to entire worlds outside their comprehension.
[But then again, I’d also been oblivious totheirworld, before Dutch activated my central system.]
