New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Why are you friends with Apollonia Nor?” Dawn asked him.

He found himself surprised by the question, though he supposed he ought not to be.  It was an obviously important topic.

“She is an interesting person,” he said.  It was the simplest way to describe his thoughts.

“Even though her abilities frighten you?” she asked.

Pure conjecture, he thought immediately.  So immediately that he recognized it as his own pride.

Was it just a lucky guess on her part?

Because she was right.

His answer came damningly slow.  He found himself unable to formulate an easy response.

“She does not frighten me, she is my friend,” he said.

“Ah, so it is,” Dawn replied with an understanding nod, though he knew she had caught his mistake.

“You must be very glad you’ve been able to keep her safe, with all of the danger she is said to have faced so far,” Dawn said.

“I do not much like this topic,” he told her.  “Perhaps we might change it?”

“Of course,” she replied, inclining her head.  “I did not mean to cause you discomfort.”

“I do not hold it against you,” he replied.

“You are too kind, Doctor.  I know my questions are probing.  But as far as costs go, mere words are a cheap commodity.”

“It depends upon what words,” he replied.

She laughed pleasantly.  “Of course.  And in my line of work especially there are certain words that are quite valuable.  But this, this is mere conversation.”

“If you say so,” he replied.

“I do.  And do not worry; I will not ask you for any words you are not willing to part with.  Nor are there any wrong answers, not even a lie.”

“That is most generous of you,” he asked.  “But what do you get out of this?  While I would assess myself as a great conversationalist, this does seem somewhat unfair to you.”

“That is my business,” she replied.  “But tell me, what do you think of a murderer like Romon Xatier or his foolish imitators like Jan Holdur?”

“They are damaged beings,” Y replied.  “There are volumes that could be written about their psyches, but this is the simplest explanation.”

“Of course, though violence can have a purpose.”

“I suppose,” he said.  “I understand that even you resort to it at times.”

He thought his comment would catch her off-guard, but she seemed completely unbothered.  She had no reaction at all to that, as if she had anticipated it.

“Do any of your secondary minds ever suggest hurting one of your patients?” she asked him.  “Surely you could hide the evidence and get away with it.”

That triggered an impulse so powerful that Y’s mind raced. He plunged into a deep search that might reveal a time and a place where he might have leaked this kind of an insight into how he operated. He was piling backtraces upon backtraces trying to collate huge amounts of memories. The alternative hypothesis was that she flat out guessed it, but Y dismissed it as astronomically improbable. Yet his searches came up fruitless. It was a novel sensation for Y – if he could, he would break a cold sweat. His outward routines tugged at his mind gently and he caught himself looking shocked and speechless. He suppressed the impulse and dropped the search, but it was too late to correct this slip up. 

“No,” he finally said.  “And that is a horrible question to ask me, Madam.”

“I have not accused you of hurting anyone,” she replied looking down and away pensively.  “Or that you even would.  But all the same – let us pursue a new thread of conversation.  What do you make of the Glorians?”

“There is much there that I cannot share,” he said, feeling quite uncertain and still off-guard.

“I do not ask for secret information, and to be quite blunt, Doctor, my own information sources are likely more candid with me than the Sapient Union is with you – need to know and that sort of thing.”

“And you need to know?”

“I do,” she replied with a smile.  “And that is all the answer you will get on that.”

His mind began to calm down; she had just been provoking him for a reaction.  “Of course, I apologize,” he replied.  “It is my nature to ask questions.”

He did not want to say it, but he was glad for the topic change.  “To answer yours – the Glorians are a rather interesting branch of humanity.  Terrible, right now, yes.  They are reactionary in the extreme, in the literal sense.  They believe themselves aggressors, but the reality is that they are slaves to their own system and it prompts them into unwise actions.”

“Such as war,” Dawn suggested.

“Very possibly,” he admitted.  “If it comes to that again, the Union will win, but many will die.”

“They must surely be aware of that,” Dawn noted.

“I would certainly think so, and yet – they act in ways that seem contrary to that understanding.  It is hard for me to put myself into their shoes, though I have tried to construct models of the behavior of their leadership.”  He laughed.  “Not their supposedly-immortal Emperor, of course.  But of the actual ruling class; the ones who own all the land and the industry.”

“What do your models find?”

“The results are at times disturbing.  Sometimes I believe that they are so trapped within their maddened world that they are unaware of the truth.  They believe their own propaganda.  At other times, they are quite aware of the truth, but simply do not care – they may not view themselves as Glorians and only pay lip service to the idea.  In this scenario, they would sacrifice every world of theirs to flames if they view it as profitable.”

“Ghastly,” Dawn replied.

“Indeed.  Though the views seem contradictory.  I do not know if either is true.  My models may be flawed.  It is a very complex thing and my dataset is incomplete.”

“I believe you are righter than you know,” she replied.  “But have you ever considered that both views may be true?”

“That is contradictory,” he said.

“Sometimes people are so.”

The sun had set; the mouse had gone off with its seed pod.  As the moon rose, they fell into silence for a time.

He appreciated that the soil below was not actually full of live microbes.  As interesting as they could be, it was at times overwhelming to be surrounded by life.

Though, he thought, she had modeled much of it for this fantasy.  There were earthworms winding through the soil, his scanners found, and other creatures in the soil hunting them.

“Have you ever met any Aeena?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“I have not,” he admitted.  “It would be interesting.  We know very little of them.”

“They are interesting conversationalists in their own way,” she told him.  “But they are also unpleasant.  Quite intentionally so – they do look down on us all.”

“They are xenophobes in the extreme,” he agreed.  “Unfortunate, as they are a powerful and technologically advanced species.  After the Union’s last conflict with them, we actually learned much from their equipment we captured.”

“How intriguing.  How might they be more advanced than the Union?  It is so much bigger, with so many more species working in concert.”

“We do not know,” he admitted.  “We do not even know how long they have been star-faring.  Though, their technology does not strictly outclass ours.  They simply have some novel approaches to some problems.”

“I meant no insult, of course.  But it is curious, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he admitted.  “Though I have not dwelled upon the question much.  It is quite outside of my wheel house, you might say.”

“Indeed.  Though I imagine you could be quite the spy if you so wished.”

“I would be held back by a fatal flaw,” he said.  “My own superiority in certain ways.  Pride comes before the fall, I have heard.”

She smirked.  “An interesting way of admitting a weakness, Doctor.”

“I am the humblest being you will ever meet,” he proclaimed.

She laughed again, then glanced into the sky.  “The moon is rising quickly, and soon you will be leaving.  But there is time for one last question.”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about Shoggoths?”

Y hesitated again.  It was another obvious question, yet again one he could not easily formulate an answer to.

“I must admit my sample size is one,” he said to start.  “Though from what I have heard they are often very similar in mannerisms and behavior.”

“If they have a culture, it does seem monolithic,” she replied.

“It is an interesting choice of words,” he noted.

“It is.”

He continued.  “To be very honest, madam, I do not like them.  I respect them, yes, but they hide many secrets.  They ask many questions, but answer few.  They make demands but give little.”

“My, what a terrible hostess I must be!” Dawn said, laughing.  “This description sounds almost too much like me.”

“I did not mean-“

“Of course you did,” Dawn said.  “Even if you do not admit it.  But you are speaking truthfully of the Shoggoths.  They hide many things, that they will protect at all costs.”

His interest was piqued.  “You need not answer, of course, but . . . without going into detail, do you know any of these secrets?”

She took a moment before answering, frowning slightly.  “If I did,” she admitted.  “I do not believe I would still be alive.”

Carefully, then, she put down her sensory cup and leaned back.  “The moon is nearly at its peak and you are nearly free, Doctor.  But before we go, if you have any other questions, feel free to ask them.  I may not answer – but you may ask, at least.”

“I do not have any,” he told her.  “At least none that I expect you will answer.  But if I may speak freely, then I do have a few things to say.”

“Oh?  And what might those things be?”

“Firstly, I profess a disappointment that you asked me nothing about Ian Brooks.  I do not know the past history that you two share, but I expected at least a cursory question about him.”

“I am sorry to have disappointed you,” she replied.

“I also have realized something; despite your attempts to make it seem you are broadcasting via FTL communications, you are actually quite local,” Y said.

This time Dawn looked surprised.  It was only a brief look, but told Y that she did still have that involuntary human trait of their emotions displaying before their conscious mind could correct it.

“My, you are an astute one,” Dawn replied.  “Perhaps I should be alarmed.”

“On the contrary, I mean to do nothing negative with this information.  If anything, I am somewhat flattered that you came what is presumably a long distance just to meet me,” Y said.  “I imagine your ship is simply floating in a blacked-out state somewhere . . . well under a light-second away.”

“Bravo,” Dawn replied.  “You cannot guess what direction – unless you are even more of a magician than you seem, doctor, but you are quite correct.”

“I cannot determine direction, no.  But thank you for confirming my thought – and for doing me this honor.”

“You are a worthy conversationalist,” she told him.  “I thank you for your words.”

He set down his sensory cup, the details of the wind and scents and birds and other fine details disappearing.  He was once more on a spaceship, in the midst of nothing.

“Thank you,” he said, rising.

He left, wondering if there would be some final surprise or attack; he did not expect it, but he could not rule it out.

He had learned something of her, and she may not want that to be known.

Stepping into his shuttle, he found no traces of bombs or sabotage.

But there was a small box, just a few centimeters in dimensions.

On it was a note, written by hand.

“Please give this to Ian Brooks.”

Considering it a moment, he put the box into a storage compartment on his body, scanning it and finding no explosives, poisons or any other threatening properties.

Then, without incident, Y settled his body down and started the shuttle’s engines, maneuvering away from the station and hence back to his home.

---

< Ep 11 part 20 | Ep 11 Part 22 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The shuttle vibrated slightly as it was pulled from the dash.

It had been a short trip.  Y had expected it to be longer – a few hours, at least.

But no, it had been quick – they were not even far from the station that had re-routed his dash.

Interesting.

He took in the data of all the shuttle’s system, building himself a picture of what lay around them.

It was empty space, the vacuum about as immaterial as within any system.  The cosmic wind of the star, about five AU from him, was relatively weak.  It was only a mid-brightness red dwarf, and at this distance they were near the frost line.

There was a single object; a ship.

It was a round leisure craft, meant for short jaunts in space from a home port, not typically found floating in an empty system.

Clearly, it was his destination.

A tight-beam signal came in, giving him navigational data to dock.

He put the ship on the course, waiting for anything else; a greeting or to hear from the man that Captain Brooks had been in contact with.  But nothing came in.

He docked with the ship, and switched his consciousness from the shuttle itself to his ambulatory body.

The airlock opened for him, and he stepped through.

The majority of the ship’s volume, he could see, was taken up by a single large chamber.

It was circular, both floor and ceiling curving slightly upward to create the effect of drawing attention to the center.

He scanned all areas equally, but the effect would have been, to biological senses, very effective and striking.

The space was used well, too.  There was no gravity or even the possibility of spin gravity on a ship so small, but every attempt was made to visually hide that; the deck was covered in a surface of very naturalistic soil, trees that had been grown in gravity had been transplanted into the substrate, with large rocks being in strategic places to create the illusion of a natural surface. Under crystal glass, so clear that a human eye might miss its presence, water flowed, creating a pleasant, trickling stream.

In the center, an old stone table – and it was indeed an old table made of planetary stone, his sensors told him – was situated, along with two stone seats.  Quite ostentatious, when every gram mattered for a ship that wasn’t cratonic.

At the table, a being was sitting.

She had the form of a human, but she was not biological in any sense that he could see.  She possessed three arms on each side, and her skin was a gold alloy, textured like human skin – so convincing it almost looked like it was living.  Her eyes were a sapphire blue, and long pseudo-hair made of flexible silver wires hung down her back.  She wore a white gown; simply adorned but made from a rich fabric that refracted the light so that it almost seemed to glow.

She was watching him, all six of her hands folded in her lap, waiting.

He approached the stone table, and she spoke.

“Greetings, Doctor.  I trust you had no difficulty finding your way here?”

“Of course not, Madam Dawn, your directions were perfect,” Y replied.

“Madam?  Oh my, do I appear so old?  I thought I looked ageless in this form.”

“Consider it merely a token of great respect,” Y said, judging her image and coming to a conclusion;

She was not actually here.

What he was seeing was one of the best projections he had ever seen.  It had been crafted to fool, at first glance, even the best sensors.  Perhaps even tailored specifically to the sensors possessed by his bodies.

It bespoke great effort on her part to create a plausible facsimile, but also told him that she knew, in very great detail, the specifics of this body’s build.  The only clue that broke the facade was a tiny flicker, so fast that a human eye would not have perceived it.

He did not expect that she believed this would fool him for long.  But it was a testament of her knowledge and skill that she could fool him even for a moment.

Quite interesting.

The details of his mechanical bodies were not exactly top secret, but were also not publicly available, and under some level of security, for obvious reasons.

“Please, have a seat,” she told him, gesturing with one hand.

He did so.  It was only a formality, but it seemed they would be playing that game.

“Might I offer you a sensory cup?” she asked.

“I would accept that offer,” Y replied.

Moving with grace, she took a small, cup-like object from the table, activating it with a touch of a finger, and presenting it to him.

Y accepted it, pressing a finger into the cup.

At the end was an interface, which he could interact with.

There was nothing else but data; the sensory data of physical sensation, of smell, sound, everything that was needed to complete the tranquil scene around them.

Birds sang in trees, the wind blew, which his surface sensors could feel as if it was real.

It was, he thought, a pleasant scenario.

“Why are we in this location?” he asked.  “Not that I am complaining, mind you – I just feel there must be a reason.”

Dawn smiled.  “It is, I am sorry to say, not a real place.  It is only a place I have seen in my imagination.”

She looked around.  “It was once a favorite past-time of mine to create such scenes.  While many work with memories, I always felt it was more enjoyable to try and create something that was believable but was not based on anything in particular.”

“That must require a great amount of research,” Y noted.  “The plants and animals present are all native to Sakha.  It is difficult for me to find any flaws.  I believe that this could be a real location.”

“You are too kind,” she replied.  “But you have not come all this way just to discuss my holographic creations.”

“No,” he admitted.  “I have come to settle a debt, as you know.  Since you are not physically here, I trust you do not need medical attention.  So the question is; what else is it that you may require of me?”

Dawn seemed unperturbed, and dipped her finger into her own sensory cup.

“I wish only for your company, Doctor.  The sun is setting, and you will stay until the moon reaches its peak height in the sky.”

So she would not come out and say it.  Y pondered her last proposition, and noted that the sun was sinking at a speed faster than Earth normal for the region they supposedly were in.  So it would only be a few hours.

“Very well,” he said.  “I shall do that, and then the debt will be settled.”

“I was quite sorry to hear about Dr. Logus,” Dawn said.  “Though I understand he is healing well.”

It was a sudden change, and Y tried to calculate angles that this approach could indicate.

He discarded the idea that she was threatening Logus; there was no advantage in it, as far as he could see.  She already had him here.

“Yes, he is attended to by excellent doctors,” Y replied.

“I imagine it was very difficult for you,” Dawn said.

The wind seemed to blow harder, enough to whip her clothes and pseudo-hair.

“Yes,” he admitted.  “But he will live.  The trauma will leave scars – while we can heal the physical ones, the mental ones will be longer-lasting.  Arn Logus is capable of dealing with them, however.”

“Given his reputation, I would expect no less.  I am sure you will do all you can to help him.  Your own talents are quite impressive.”

Y nodded, but said nothing.

“May I ask – what caused you to desire to become a doctor?  It seems a curious choice.”

“I admire biological life,” he told her.  “It is an interesting phenomenon.  I feel honored to be able to alleviate the suffering of people when I can.  And I am capable of doing a great amount of good in this way.”

“Doing good,” she commented, her head tilting.  “I am surprised to hear you turn it to a simple moral stance.”

“I would chalk it up perhaps to a shortcoming of verbal language.  Truly, there are more efficient ways to communicate.  Would you prefer a pure data uplink?”

“No, words will suffice,” she replied, smiling slightly.  “In a way, its deficiencies are intriguing.  We must simply do our best with these tools.”

And, Y thought, she likely feared that a direct uplink would give him too much power.  Even if she was fully transhuman now, he was born a machine; it was his natural state.

He had met fully digitalized humans before, and while they did in many ways transcend their biological limitations, their minds were still structured like their origins.  Without completely changing themselves, they would always hold those elements, and so not take full advantage of their new state of being.

A motion to his side caught his attention; focusing his sensors, he saw a small animal, a mouse.  It had a seed pod in its mouth, it was trying to pull it along into the underbrush.

It did not even notice him, and for a moment his attention was captivated; was it simply not programmed to interact with him?  Or was it so well programmed that it had not noticed his presence from his stillness?

A part of him wanted to reach down and see if it reacted.  But he did not want to break the spell.

“I see you find some of the details of my program most interesting,” Dawn said.

“Indeed,” he replied.  “I am impressed.  And you say that this is all your own creation?”

She smiled.  “I am under no obligation to answer your questions, Doctor.  I owe you no debt.”

“That is true,” he admitted.

The sun above was covered by a cloud and shadows fell over the land.  Every shadow was perfect, he noted, checking for mistakes in it, shortcuts that sensory world creators often used to save time or effort.  He found none.

“I understand you spent much time with Romon Xatier before his death,” Dawn said.

“Yes,” he replied.  He did not elaborate.

“It seems he developed a powerful interest in you,” she continued.

“You could say that.  It was not a mutual interest,” he replied.

“Oh?  Yet you went to his property on Gohhi.”

Ah, so that was how she had known, he thought.  Her spies had seen him and they likely kept tabs on Xatier most of the time.

“I did.  I had some unfinished business,” Y continued.

“You and Apollonia Nor were both present when he died, though.”  It was not a question.

“Yes,” he said.

She tilted her head again, smiling.  “You sometimes become short of words, Doctor.”

“I suppose that occurs to everyone at some times,” he replied, forcing affability.

---

< Ep 11 part 19 | Ep 11 Part 21 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Tonight is a night of the Dark at its most encompassing,” Father Sair said to those assembled.

The room itself was dark; the only light was from the great bowl of holographic fire.  It was not the real thing; it added no real heat, and it did not burn anything.  The ash from a real blaze was a true part of this, the sacred turning of a mundane thing to black; returning it to the Dark.

In the flickering light sat a half circle of people, watching him.  There were seven of them, and his cabin was a small one, meant for a single person.  The intimacy helped, however.

“Despite the difficulties we face, and the oppression we must overcome, we have found each other,” he continued.

Cassandra gazed at him with a filial adoration.  Iago with a gratitude that he knew would never fade.  Their son was uninterested, only there because of his parents, but he knew one day that would change and he would be a true believer.

Three others watched with the conviction of the freshly converted.

And last, Alexander Shaw, who was still uncertain.  But he was receptive.

“Though others may feel false safety and amusement in their childish excitements today, we know the truth; that we are just tiny sparks in an infinite darkness.  We will fade with time.  But it is in knowing our place within the cosmos that we become one with it.”

He put his hands over the flames.  They shrunk, dying.  There was no pain as he had felt so many times before when doing this over a real flame.

But he would make do.

“They laugh at us for our faith.  They oppress us with their regulations and then make a pretense of fairness.  But their arrogance, their faithlessness will still their lips one day.  We need only keep our faith my brothers and sisters.”

He lifted his hands, so used to seeing them blistered, bleeding and cracked from the flames.  But they still shook, with the human flaw of memory; remembering burning flames of the past that had left his hands at One with the Dark.

He lifted his eyes, met each of theirs.

“We still have further to go.  Hold onto your minds as you sink deeper into the Dark.  We will sink, we will fade, but we are saved, for we know we are Small.”

---

< Ep 11 part 18 | Ep 11 Part 20 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The revelry had long-since spilled from the Equator ring to the halls around it.  Meeting rooms became impromptu party rooms; one empty storage hall became a dance hall, with drones carrying mirrored balls and lights weaving overhead.

But there was no violence, no vandalism, no damage.

Listening in on the Response teams responsible for security, Pirra was pleased to hear that so far the worst thing that had happened was a sprained wrist when someone had tripped.  They had already been treated and returned to the party.

Just another story for Darkeve, along with the many that would never be told; triumphs chalked up to the goodness of spirit people brought to the day, and every failure chalked up to the ghosts of the Dark.

The parade and its events had broken up a little while ago, and with that Iago had told her he had best get home.

“I promised Cass we wouldn’t be out too late,” he told her, smiling lopsidedly.  “So I need to go find Elliot.”

“Awww, that’s too bad.  I mean, I understand,” she had told him.  “But this was fun.”

“Yeah, it was nice to spend time together again,” Iago said.

Iago had been a stranger for too long, she thought.  For a time tonight it almost felt like it had when she’d first come to the Craton and become his lieutenant.

They had quickly become friends, and after a few missions, they had each showed the other their mettle.  He had been senior, with more experience, but they’d always been closely matched in every other way.

“Does Elliot have class tomorrow?” she asked, strolling along with him still as he searched for his son.  The boy had gone off a little while ago to find Hannah to give her the treat he’d gotten.  Pirra still thought it was cute.

“No, nothing like that.  But for Cass’s faith this isn’t a day for celebrating,” Iago told her.  “So after this we’re going to go spend some quiet time with her.”

“Oh,” Pirra said, a little surprised.  She shouldn’t be; differing groups having different ways of celebrating certain holidays was not weird for her people, either.

“There he is,” Iago said, spying Elliot through the crowds.  “Hey, have a good night!  Tell Alex I hope he feels better soon!”

“I will!” she chirped after him, waving a farewell.

Leaving the main Equator ring, Pirra weaved her way through one of the halls leading to the elevator back down into the Craton proper.

The hallways had many people in them, many loitering and still talking or drinking.  One young couple were even necking wildly just outside the elevator.

She stopped behind them, making a trill that got people’s attention every time.

Startled, the young couple looked back to her.

“Get some privacy,” she said, holding up her badge.

They hurried away, and Pirra watched them a moment, amused, before heading into the elevator.

Riding it down into the ship proper, she tried to feel the subtle turn as the elevator rotated to return her to the gravitational orientation of the rest of the ship.

It was about three seconds after the elevator began moving, but even knowing that it was hard to feel.

The elevator stopped, the doors opened, and she was startled to see Kessissiin standing there.

He was just as startled, his crest rising a few inches in alarm, pupils narrowing.

“Lt. Commander,” he said quickly, snapping to attention.  “I did not expect to run into you.”

“It’s fine,” she said, hoping that her human hat hid her own surprise at least a little.

She felt oddly annoyed to have run into him here and now.  She knew that half of Squad One were working security for the event, even knew that he was one of them.  Most of the time, to bump into a member of her squad when she was out of uniform and they were on-duty was not an issue, but in this case it bothered her.  She didn’t know why.

She stepped out, and he fell into step next to her.

“Thank you for allowing me to work this event,” Kessissiin said.  “This is the first time I have experienced this human holiday.  It’s been . . . enlightening.”

Pirra thought she could hear the disapproval in his voice.  Granted, this was a rather wild party, but Dessei traditional holidays were very restrained affairs in general.  Their tempers flared easily enough that they had to be.  And Kessissiin was from a very traditional culture and family, she knew.

“Human holidays are great,” she said.  “This is among their most widely-celebrated.  Even though it started as a spacer holiday, it has since spread even into their terrestrial populations.”

“Really,” Kessissiin said, clearly uninterested in the history lesson.

“Yes.  It’s hundreds of years old.”

“Only hundreds?” he asked.  The question could have been rude; it was hard to tell from his tone.  His body signals were too controlled at the moment to give more context.

“Yes,” she said.  “Not nearly as old as ours, but still quite old.”

“It does not compare to Emahha, certainly,” Kessissiin said.

“Well, few things do,” Pirra replied.  “A nine-thousand year old holiday is hardly a fair comparison.”

“True,” he admitted, seeming mollified by this admission of apparent holiday superiority.

He glanced at her again.  “I admit, though, that I am surprised to see you celebrating it.”

“When among another culture it’s a good idea to take part in their ways.  There’s even an old human expression to that effect; ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do’.”

Kessissiin stopped now, looking at her costume.  “Still.  Why dress up as a human hero?  You could have picked any from our history.  You could easily have been Ymssa or Ninneh, for example.”

Pirra was almost flattered at the choices; both figures were warrior queens known for great beauty, and were widely popular.  But she did not want to accept or reject that compliment.

“This isn’t really a human hero,” she said instead, looking down at her costume.  “She was actually a criminal.”

“A criminal?” Kessissiin echoed, surprised again.  “Why would you dress as a criminal?”

“Well they don’t carry a lot of mystique to us, but to humans some of them were considered very interesting and memorable.  Bonnie for example-“

Kessissiin looked away, then back to her.  “I do not mean to be rude, Lt. Commander, but your fascination with humans seems to border on . . . unhealthy.”

Pirra was taken aback.  “What?”

Kessissiin gestured to her outfit.  “You are celebrating their holidays, ignoring your own history, idolizing their criminals?”

“That is my business,” Pirra replied sharply.  “And not yours.”

“It is true that you may do what you wish,” he said carefully.  “But our actions do not exist in a vacuum.  You are highly regarded in the Republic – a public figure for a variety of reasons.  Did you know that your every mission is reported on widely by our news agencies?”

She did not actually know that.  “I’m not that extraordinary,” she said carefully.

He pressed closer.  “That is itself a terrible thing – you do not even know that our people love you.  They look to you as a role model.  And . . .  well, I do not judge you for your costume, but what will they think?  However humans view criminals, we view them as the villains they are.  How will our people feel to see their hero dressing up as something so terrible?”

Pirra stepped back, suddenly feeling unsure.

She wanted to dismiss his words, but he actually had a point.

“On top of all of this, you married a human,” Kessisiin continued.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said, her confusion and concern suddenly bursting into anger.

“It is not wrong, no.  But what kind of message does that send to our young?” he insisted.

“You are out of line,” she said.  “Return to your duty!”

Kessissiin snapped to attention.  “Do not worry,” he said.  “I know my duty.”

---

< Ep 11 part 17 | Ep 11 Part 19 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Y’s body was still in the control room with him while Brooks prepared the shuttle for launch.

There was no crew in this area; no cargo was expected and so the bay was totally empty.

This bay was rarely used, too; at the aft of the ship, between where the three massive heat radiators came out of the Craton‘s aft.

Most of the time it was covered in a perfect mirrored shield to deflect any light that hit it.  In times of intense action, the Craton‘s radiators could get extremely hot, and absorbing back any of the heat that they were shedding was self-defeating.

But right now the Craton was at rest; while the radiators still glowed a dull red, the threat of re-absorbed heat was minimal.

Being back here at the aft of the ship meant that no one would see the shuttle launch, though, and that’s what mattered.

“It’s nearly ready,” Brooks said.  “Go ahead and board.”

“I am,” Y said.

Through the transparent aluminum windows of the launch control room, Brooks could see another body of Y’s walking onto the shuttle.

“Once it is launching, I will deactivate this body and fully activate the one on the shuttle,” Y continued.  “In keeping with Union laws regarding my copies.  While I am gone, Captain, I will leave a shell-copy of myself in a simple response mode.  It will not be a complex copy of myself, merely a well-taught algorithm.  My primary core on the ship will be inactivated awaiting my return or . . . well, not return.”

Brooks paused, wondering if Y resented the limitations placed upon him.  On Union ships that did not belong to the Ehni, they could only inhabit and control one body at a time, aside from doing minor tasks like moving them.  It kept with the Union’s careful stance on preventing the proliferation of artificial intelligence, which posed severe ethical questions, as well as prevented a potential drain on ship resources.  If an Ehni copied themselves, then they each were their own being with their own will.  There was then double the risk that they might do it again.

Two high-powered AIs on a ship could be accommodated.  But if it happened again, then any of the three might do it again, and were likely smart enough to cover their tracks and hide which did it.  It would only increase the temptation and chances of a catastrophic growth.

A thousand high-powered AIs on a ship could cause a crippling drain on its systems.  And each copied AI would have its own desire for self-preservation to contend with; deleting them was tantamount to murder.

“All right,” Brooks said.

Y’s body began to move towards the door, to go to the nearest charging alcove.  But he paused, turning back.  “If I may ask a favor, Captain . . .”

“Of course,” Brooks said.  “You’re the one helping me, after all.”

“Please try to keep Nor away from me while I am gone.  She is more intelligent than most realize, and . . . she possesses gifts that I cannot yet comprehend.  She will see through the charade with my shells, I am convinced.  I do not want her be alarmed when I am not home.”

Brooks nodded solemnly.  “I understand, I will make sure she does not encounter you.”

Y nodded, still holding there just a minute, pointedly watching him before finally walking out the door.

“I am now aboard the shuttle, Captain,” Y messaged.

“I wish you a safe trip,” Brooks told him.

The air was draining from the room.  When it was as close to a vacuum as could be reasonably be made, the bay doors slid open.

The shuttle slid out into space beyond silently.  Once it was a hundred meters from the entrance, its thrusters roared to life, and in moments it had pulled away from the ship.

“Jaya,” Brooks called up to the bridge.  “Sending out a milk run.  Open a dash gate,” he ordered.

A milk run was a fairly routine thing; sometimes the ship needed something unexpectedly, and they’d send an automated shuttle out, sending it to the nearest supply station.  There was one in the system, a minor base, but the whole story was plausible enough, and as Captain he could authorize such a launch.  At the station, they’d get a request from the shuttle to forward it on, which again was not an unusual request.

“I copy, Captain,” Jaya replied.  “Opening dashgate.”

Brooks watched on the scopes until the shuttle was gone.

Once it was, he sighed.  He could only wait now.

Re-pressurizing the shuttle bay, he then erased the logs, replacing them with data that would back his milk run story.

Then, through his HUD he switched to an external view.  It was almost enough to convince the eyes that he was still looking through the open bay door into the blackness of space itself.

He scanned until he could see the direction that Y was heading off to.  Somewhere, off that direction, he knew, was a gate that would catch Y’s shuttle.  He could not know where, but it was along that heading.

She was out there.

He lingered a few moments before turning off the external view and heading back towards the celebration.

---

< Ep 11 part 15 | Ep 11 Part 17 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“What?” Apollonia yelled, trying to be heard over the crowd.

People were bumping into them, shouting and yelling in excitement as the winners of the parade were being announced.  They’d started with number 20; the giant spider, who was now striding up onto the stage to accept their prize.

Kiseleva’s face, while always beautiful, seemed oddly out of place being unadorned, not hidden by makeup or a mask.  It was twisted in annoyance, and she held up a tablet.

Words were on the screen:

“Come with me.”

“Now?” Apollonia shouted.

The woman nodded sharply, beckoning her sharply.

Giving a glance back to the spider man, who was now descending from his costume on a rope that looked like silk, she reluctantly followed Kiseleva.

Angel came with her.  The dog seemed slightly alarmed by the giant crowds, almost becoming a tripping hazard she stayed so close.

As soon as they stepped into a side hall, Apollonia stopped.  “Okay, what is it?  I don’t want to miss the rest of the parade.”

Kiseleva frowned again.  “You aren’t going back.  You have training.”

“What?” Apollonia said.  “I haven’t trained in days!”

“Exactly,” Kiseleva replied calmly.  “It was a temporary pause and you must start again.”

Apollonia threw her hands out in the direction of the parade.  “But it’s a holiday!”

“Officers frequently have to be on duty during holidays.  Do you think we get a choice?  No.  We do our duty.”

“Yes, but-“

“It is a sacrifice,” Kiseleva said with finality.

So.  That was it, Apollonia thought.  They were going to take this from her to prove some stupid point.

She fought for inner calm.  This was not the end of the world, it was just . . . well, it was really upsetting.

It wasn’t like she’d ever gotten to really celebrate any holiday, and she was going to miss this one, too.

Her outward anger faded into a dull bitterness that she knew she’d just have to swallow.

Maybe she’d ask Brooks if she could have the next holiday all to herself, just as a favor . . .

Or Y could give her a medical exemption!  He’d probably do that, she could argue it was for psychological reasons.

Kiseleva started off, and Apollonia jogged to catch up with her.  Her regular exercise with Jaya in the mornings was maybe starting to tell, she thought.

“I’ve been exercising every day,” she said to Kiseleva.  She knew the woman thought she was a noodle.

“Good,” the woman replied shortly.  She seemed irritated if anything.

And that felt like a rebuke.  She was trying!  She should get some points for that.

They boarded a lift that would take them back into the heart of the ship.

Most of the ship’s decks treated the front nose of the ship as ‘up’, but the Equator Ring was an exception.  Apollonia hadn’t even realized until she’d seen a map recently, but the halls and lifts into the area turned, reorienting the gravity so that the floor was ‘sideways’ relative to the rest of the ship.  It was strange, but made sense so they could have the view of space above them.

It was a nice advantage to artificial gravity, she mused.  One could place it going any direction they wanted.

“What are we going to be doing?” she asked.

“Studying astronavigation,” Kiseleva told her.  “Do you have any prior experience?”

“I think I made a mobile of the Tede System one of the times I got some schooling.  It was paper and foam, mostly.”

Kiseleva seemed unsure if she was joking or not, but continued on.  “Astronavigation is a very difficult science,” she said.  “For obvious reasons.”

“Absolutely,” Apollonia said.  “Obvious reasons.”

Kiseleva shot her a look.  Apollonia bit her lip.

“Being lost in space is no joking matter.  And all objects are moving, often at different rates and in different directions, making it nearly impossible to find an object upon which to orient.  On top of that, traveling interstellar distances means you are also essentially traveling in time, so all objects you observe will look quite different depending on your location in the galaxy.”

Apollonia found herself without a witty retort.  The idea of being lost in space was a terrifying one, and she found herself intrigued.  “So how do you do it?” she asked.

Kiseleva smiled, very slightly.  “I will show you.”

---

< Ep 11 part 14 | Ep 11 Part 16 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Dr. Y has agreed to the meeting,” Brooks said.

He could hear how pleased the voice on the other end of the line was.  “Very good, Captain.  I was skeptical that you would keep your word, but our mutual friend was certain.  I am glad to know that she was right and I was wrong.”

The smugness in his voice irked Brooks.

“I’ll be sure to congratulate her when I see her,” he replied.  “We will be leaving within the hour, but we do not have a destination yet.”

“You are not invited, Captain,” the voice returned.

“It was never a condition that I not come, and so I am coming,” Brooks said.  “It is already arranged.”

“Plans will have to change then,” the man replied.  “Your absence would be noted, after all.  Haven’t you a parade to be leading?”

Brooks felt his anger rise, and he fought it down.  “I am coming.”

“Then the meeting is off,” the man said.  “And our mutual friend will be most displeased to find out.”

“I must be sure of the safety of my crew,” Brooks replied shortly, struggling to keep calm.  “Therefore-“

“Therefore you are simply going to have to trust your old friend,” the man replied, his voice suddenly cold.  “You do not get a say in this.  You are repaying a debt you incurred willingly.  Will it be said that you attempted to put conditions on it?  You do not have that right.”

Brooks wanted to argue it; insist.  But the ramifications would be heavy.  If Dawn truly did not want him to be there this badly, then going anyway would do no good.

And they both knew that his presence would not be a protection for Y.  He would be far easier to neutralize than the Ehni; even his lowest-quality bodies were faster and stronger than any human, and resilient against far more dangers.

“Fine,” Brooks finally said.  “I trust that all of you understand the reality of this situation; I will pay the debt.  Your conduct with the doctor will determine if there is anything else that needs settling.”

“Good, good,” the man replied, sounding once again pleased, Brooks’s veiled threat seemingly having no effect upon him.  “You will send the Doctor in a shuttle and through a dashgate to these coordinates.  There he will find a ship that he will dock with.  And there the meeting will take place.”

Brooks felt his impotent anger burning, but he kept his voice calm as he replied.  “Very well.”

“And Captain?” the man said.

Brooks braced himself for whatever taunt the man would sling, but he was surprised.

“She sends her regards,” the man said.  Then the call was ended.

---

< Ep 11 part 13 | Ep 11 Part 15 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Pirra cheered delightedly as an ancient spirit from Dessei mythology danced through the parade.

It was an impossibly thin, multi-legged being that moved with more grace than any real creature, floating over the floor as if gravity was merely an idea.

The stealthsuit the controller wore was a high-quality one that surely cost plenty of Ex, and bent light in the human-visible spectrum enough to make them nearly invisible.

But the suit was clearly tailored for human vision only; Dessei saw in a slightly different range than they did, and so she could see the controller in a vivid shade of ultraviolet.  They were actually very hard to miss.

But she wouldn’t take points off for that!  She excitedly gave them a vote, wondering for a moment if it had been a mistake to vote for every costume so far.  To some extent she did wish everyone well, but she had also loved every costume that had come along!

The only thing missing was her own partner.

It was a good thing that she and Alexander had decided not to take part in the parade.  Sure, their costumes were not nearly as amazing as most, but they were good!  They’d even had them made out of the closest materials they could get on the ship to historic Earth outfits.  And though she found them somewhat uncomfortable, they looked great.

Admittedly, she had hoped they might join in last-second.  There was plenty of space left at the end, and she had her Tommy Gun with its special ship-safe blanks for a reason!

Where was Alexander?

He had to be in the crowd, but he hadn’t answered her last call.  He probably had his hands full or something, but still, he could at least have picked up . . .

A call from him came in, and her heart jumped.

“Alex!” she said excitedly, picking up.  “I’m down near Watchito’s-“

“Hey,” Alexander’s voice came.  He sounded subdued, and she felt her elation dissipate.

“Alex, are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said quickly.  “I mean, I’m not hurt or anything . . .”

“Did something happen?” she asked sharply, her voice slipping into a professional Response tone.

“Nothing like that.  I’m sorry, Pirra, I just . . . kind of don’t feel well.  I’m still at home.”

She was silent a moment.  “Oh,” she finally said.  “Are you sick?” she added after a moment.

“Maybe.  I don’t have a fever, it’s just . . . I guess I don’t feel very energetic.  I tried taking a stim, but it didn’t do a lot.”  He paused.  “I really hate to disappoint you, but . . .”

“If you’re not feeling well, you should stay home,” she said firmly.  “Get a medical drone to check you out, just to be safe.”

“Okay,” he said.  She could hear the relief in his voice.  “And Pirra? Try to have fun, okay?”

The parade continued, and Pirra went back to upvote the costumes she hadn’t even seen during her call.

Right now they’d gotten into a military theme, with a unit of people all in their own Heavy Armor Suits marching together.  Each one was unique, with paint themes ranging from historic to modern to bright pinks with flowers and even some based on cultural characters.  She recognized some from her studies of historic human culture and excitedly started cheering again.

“Hey, I know that voice!”

Turning, Pirra saw Iago waving.  She waved back, hurrying over.

Iago’s costume was just an old Response uniform, a style that pre-dated his time on the Craton.  Probably something he actually had in his closet, she thought.

Next to him, Elliot waved as well, beaming.  His costume was far more involved; he had fur all over much of his body, with torn old-style human clothes.

“I’m so happy I ran into you!” Pirra said.

“Your costume is great!  That’s from the 20th century, right?” Iago asked.

“Yes!” she replied.  “I’m Bonnie Parker, an old criminal!”

“Nice, I thought that might be it, but I wasn’t sure enough to guess,” Iago replied with a laugh.

“I can see who you are,” she replied.  “Lazing out and just wearing an old uniform.”

“Well, I had to throw it together at the last second,” Iago replied, glancing past her.  She turned and looked as well and saw someone striding by in a four-meter tall robot suit that was really just some clever use of stilts and piping.

“Were you not going to come?”  She glanced around.  “Is Cass here?”

“No, she didn’t want to come out,” Iago said lightly.  “For her religion, Darkeve is kind of a somber occasion.”

“Oh, I see,” Pirra replied.

That would explain why he hadn’t planned on coming.

She looked to Elliot.  “Your costume is great!” she added.  “What kind of creature are you?”

“I’m a werewolf!” he said, bearing long fangs and letting out a howl.  “On ancient Earth they once thought people could get cursed and turn into these when the moonlight hit them!  They went around and broke stuff and ripped people apart!”

He howled – his sound enhanced by some device that turned it from comical to genuinely blood-chilling.

“That’s so cool!” she said.  “I’ve heard of them, there were a lot of movies about them in earlier times!”

“Dad won’t let me watch those,” Elliot said.  “He wouldn’t even let me put blood or guts on my claws.”

“Don’t act so disappointed,” Iago chided his son, clapping a hand onto his furry shoulder.  “You saved a lot of Ex, the good fake blood and guts costs a lot and isn’t even worth it.”

Elliot glanced up at his dad, surprised, and Pirra nodded.  “It’s true.  One year your dad and I went as people who had died in a meteor accident.  Blood and guts trailing everywhere.  It was a great idea, but they looked so fake people actually laughed.”

Iago sighed.  “They just don’t make ’em on the Craton like they do in a full system,” he said.

“Wow,” Elliot replied, eyes wide.  “I want to see those costumes!”

“Well, they were a little wild,” Iago admitted.

Pirra shifted.  Yes, those had been worn to a private party and they had been . . . risque at best, for the both of them.  It wasn’t a time she was keen on bringing back up visually, especially since she had never told Alexander about it.

Granted, it had been before Iago had even introduced the two of them . . .

“Hey, Pirra, have you seen the Executive Commander?” Iago asked, changing the topic.  “Elliot has some candy for Hannah.”

“Daaaad,” Elliot whined.  “Not everyone has to know!”

“Oooh, you got her a gift?” Pirra asked, smiling and crouching slightly to be on his level.

“It’s just a bag of sqipz,” Elliot muttered, looking away.

“That’s so sweet!” she chirped, rising.  “But no – I haven’t seen him.  I’m sure he’s around, though.  He’s dressesd up as an Earth tree – I don’t think you can miss him.”

“Okay, we’ll go looking for him, then,” Iago said.

The parade was almost halfway over, Pirra noted.  She quickly upvoted the last few costumes.

As Iago and Elliot moved away, a sudden urge came to her.  “I’ll go with you!”

---

< Ep 11 part 12 | Ep 11 Part 14 >