Ultimately it remained a painstaking process that enlightened both Askit and Xayn to just how many separate computer systems a starship had, and both of them slept twice before the work was finally complete and Chir was allowed to return.
“Welcome aboard,” Xayn greeted the black-furred Gaoian as they re-entered the starship, now properly lit with the re-activation of its reactors. “You will find everything except the computer core as you left it.”
Chir surveyed it with trepidation, as though he didn’t trust the ship not to physically attack him at any moment. He allowed himself to be escorted all the way to the command deck where Askit gestured for him to take his old seat.
“Let me assure you that these systems are clean,” Askit said after a length of nervous inspection. “They couldn’t possibly be cleaner after all the effort we’ve put into them. The communications system remains disabled for reasons that should be obvious.”
Chir frowned. “You’re sure?”
Askit nodded. “So very sure.”
That seemed to be good enough for the Gaoian, who immediately relaxed by an observable measure. He was still wary, but no longer was he worried by every lens, nor at every word he spoke. “The medical systems are ready for Adrian, then?”
“They are,” Askit replied. “You may bring him aboard at any time, but first I need the compromised core returned to my workshop in Spot’s cargo hold. I have more work to do with it.”
“You’re not going to watch the procedure?” Chir asked, somewhat surprised; it was no secret that Askit generally preferred to remain nearby whenever these sorts of things were going on.
“I don’t currently have the time to just sit around,” he replied truthfully, even if it also meant he’d avoid the ensuing conversation between Adrian and Jen; even at his most analytical that was one thing bound to make him feel awkward.
Chir inclined his head, but didn’t contest the excuse. Instead he began another situation entirely. “I’ll take care of it, but first I want both of you to tell me what you think of Darragh and Keffa.”
“They are humans,” Xayn replied, leaving it at that.
Askit sighed on Chir’s behalf. “What in the void are you actually asking, Chir?”
“They were bonding,” Chir explained. “Then they stopped, and now I am not sure whether they like each other or not. Neither will answer the question when I put it to them.”
“Human relationships, Chir,” Askit replied, “they don’t make sense, not even to other humans. Not even to the humans involved!”
“That would certainly explain their body-language,” Chir mused. “It rarely matches the things they say. I believe I need to consider this further.”
Askit was content to leave things there and return to Spot, but Chir had one final thing to say. “I want you to tell me about Layla.”
“I will not say more than I have, Chir,” Askit replied with a resolute shake of his head. “I’ve told you enough.”
“You’ve told me to ignore her,” Chir growled. “That ‘she’s not the female that I knew’? That is certainly true, I have never seen a Gaoian so completely desolate as that female! I must know this, Corti, for myself and for my species: what was done to her?”
Askit glanced to Xayn; both of them knew the other would say nothing about what had actually occurred, they were each aware that the stakes were far too high. Letting Chir in on the secret might seem reasonable, given his longstanding relationship with Adrian, Jen and others of the group, but you didn’t keep a secret by telling it.
“It may sound ridiculous to you,” Xayn answered, “but there are secrets too large to be shared. Nobody will give you the answers you seek, Gaoian, no matter how much you might deserve them.”
Well said, thought Askit; combine this with the sarcasm and the V’Straki shows signs of developing some depth to his character.
Chir had little to say to that, only gazing at them blackly while they left him to the command deck, but whatever his thoughts on the matter he still arranged for a team of natives to move the Devastator’s old computer core as requested. Another group, including Jen, bore the stasis pod in the other direction, carrying Adrian’s suspended form to the medical room.
Askit was shortly left alone aboard Spot with nothing but his work and the ever-present consciousness of Trycrur.
“You’re not listening in?” Trycrur asked, surprised; knowing his normal practices better than anyone.
“No I am not,” Askit replied. “Not this time, anyway.”
“He will be fine,” Trycrur reassured him, though the fact that she had no way of actually knowing that did nothing to reassure him.
“The work I’m doing needs to be done whether he’s fine or not,” Askit replied. “The need is even greater if it’s the latter.”
“The security software,” Trycrur assumed.
Askit shook his head as he started accessing the contaminated core. “The security software is as complete as it can be until I have more specimens. I am developing this virus for that reason.”
“But not to protect us from future attempts,” Trycrur surmised; there were benefits to being a digitised mind, amongst which was the ability to spend a lot of effort considering a problem without looking like you were. “Will it even work against the A.I.?”
Askit shrugged; he had no way of actually knowing that until he tried it, but he was not without comparison to draw from. “Have you ever examined your own code?”
“Yes, of course,” she admitted. “You think it’s similar?”
“It’s similar to the virus,” Askit told her, but quickly hurried on before he gave offense. “There is a similarity in general terms. Both have an organic-like structure that works without being logical. Your mind developed as the virus now develops. It is my hope that the A.I. functions in just the same way, along with every Hierarchy mind we have ever encountered.”
She was silent for a moment. “Askit… that could annihilate all of them. Are we really willing to go that far? Humans call that ‘genocide’, but I’ve heard it’s not a popular thing.”
The word parsed through his translator after a moment, and he found he smiled grimly; of course the humans would have a word for that sort of thing. “They have another expression for it, Trycrur: ‘the survival of the fittest’. And that is who we are.”
++++++++
DATE POINT: 3Y 9M 3W 7D AV
ABOARD THE DEVASTATOR, LANDED ON AGWAR
JENNIFER DELANEY
There were five of them waiting: Xayn, Chir, and all humans on hand, while the Agwarens continued their work in maintaining the little camp they’d put together. It was a respectable effort, considering that their entire manufacturing base had been annihilated in an anti-matter blast half a world away, and the work kept them from dwelling on their circumstances.
Jen wished she could avoid dwelling on her own, but here she was, pacing back and forth like a caged animal while the others sat around with varying degrees of patience. Her mood was similarly bestial as they waited, and her companions had quickly learned that silence was currently the preferred state.
They were all inside the Devastator’s medical room, which was surprisingly spacious enough to house them all comfortably. This would have seemed logical enough, if Jen had been in any state to judge it, because a mercenary ship would doubtless need a substantial medical capacity for processing several injured crewmen at a time, but for the moment it simply seemed convenient.
The room itself was silent apart from her pacing and the gentle whir of machinery in the sealed auto-surgery, where they’d recently managed to get Adrian’s significant mass up onto the work-bench before retreating from the room so that it could activate. This part was not the problem, however, but rather the state of Adrian’s battered body as they pulled it from stasis: purple-blue and fever hot.
“How long is this thing going to take?” she hissed, stopping in front of the terminal and watching the stream of diseases and injuries flow past; it scarcely seemed possible that a man could survive even half of that.
“Probably more than half an hour?” Darragh suggested, frowning at her, and managing to hold her gaze when she turned it on him. “We’ve got no idea how long. Neither of us have ever used the thing, and we’re not juiced up on magic space medicine.”
The diagnostics completed a moment later, before Jen could formulate an answer, and she turned her full attention towards the results. “Shit.”
“That bad?” Darragh asked with no trace of humour.
“Worse,” Jen said as she read through the results in further detail. “Nervous system is shot to hell, uniform bleeding close to the skin… unknown neurological damage.”
“That bad.” Darragh repeated, much more grimly.
“Can it fix him?” Keffa asked.
Jen recognised a waver of fear breaking in the younger woman’s voice. Ah, she thought, so that’s why she doesn’t like me.
Xayn’s response was less concerned. “Do not be worried, Adrian Saunders cannot be beaten by such a short list of injuries.”
“I don’t think it works that way, mate,” Darragh said quietly. “But as Keffa said… can it?”
There was a warning on the screen, indicating that there was nothing to be done. Jen decided to ignore it. “Let’s find out.”
++++++++
ABOARD THE DEVASTATOR, LANDED ON AGWAR
ADRIAN SAUNDERS
At no time in history had a good day begun by waking up in a medical chamber surrounded by slowly whirring instruments that were working all by themselves. With that as a clearly established fact, it was basically about as pleasant as any of Adrian’s most memorable days.
Fucking awesome, he thought, giving his surroundings a quick once over and finding it about as unpleasant as he’d been expecting. His last memories were fuzzy, mainly of getting out of that damned suit and then… well, then nothing. Provided that this was not some terrible excuse for an afterlife, he might have been unconscious for any length of time. Hell, if you factored in stasis it might even be centuries.
Right now, however, he was in pain. It was absolutely dreadful pain, sharp like knives being twisted through his flesh, but it was distant and detached through an adrenaline fugue, and he did not look forward to a time when that stopped being the case. It felt like every nerve in his body was as raw as fuck, probably some sort of latent reaction to Nerve Jam, but reasons would do little to soothe the poor bastards. Other pressing issues were a growing sense of tiredness, and an ocean of sweat from a heat like no other. Christ, he had to get out of there before he was cooked alive!
With the barest of movements he hurled himself off the bench and away from the surgical instruments, kicking out at the wall with surprising agility before landing nimbly on his feet.
Fucking Cruezzir, he thought to himself, but hyper-agility was something he could happily live with, provided he could get out of this fucking oven. With that in mind he went to the door, and found it locked as he had expected. There was no time for cunning plans with the growing heat, however, and he braced himself with both feet planted on the floor while he pushed against that door with all his might.
It burst apart with remarkable ease, twisting when it should have slid, and sending shears of torn metal drifting through the air. The electrical lock exploded, and sparks gouted weirdly through the air as he passed through the doorway. Whatever cool change he had hoped for, however, was nowhere to be found.
He followed the broken door into the room, drifting through the air and glancing at his surroundings: the slow-moving forms of Keffa, Darragh, Chir and Jen…
Wrong, he corrected himself. They weren’t moving slowly, this was all on him. But with shards of metal flying everywhere there wasn’t one of them who’d get out of this situation unharmed, not unless he prevented it.
The tiredness was setting in harder now, his body so hot and parched he was beginning to feel like leather, but he only needed to press past that for a moment. He grabbed the door from the air, slammed a foot against the floor, and struck it against the field of debris before it got away; nobody would be getting impaled today.
That was all the strength he had, and now the darkness came to claim him. He heard the beat of his heart like a constant roar in his ears, the sensation of the floor as it came up to meet him, and the explosion of metal debris as it blasted into the hallway. Super-speed, he thought, lingering at the edge of unconsciousness, with all of the drawbacks.
++++++++
END OF CHAPTER