“These Humans, huh?” Sissix said to Dr. Chef. “I took some time to freak out. Didn’t you?”
“I sure did,” Dr. Chef said. He handed Rosemary a clean cloth. “Once I’d medicated Ashby and got his bots going, I locked myself in my office and yelled for a good ten minutes.”
“That’s what that was?” Ashby said. He had a dim memory of layers upon layers of haunting chords, cutting through the waves of pain. “I thought you were singing. It was really pretty.”
Dr. Chef gave a short, loud laugh. “Ashby, if the Akaraks think rubbing shit in your eyes is bad, the things I said in my office would have permanently scarred them.” He rumbled and cooed. “But Sissix is right, dear,” he said, placing a hand on the back of Rosemary’s head. “Your species does have a knack for emotional suppression. And as your doctor, I would like to say that diving straight into paperwork after negotiating at gunpoint wasn’t a very healthy decision.”
One of Rosemary’s sobs turned into a solitary chuckle. “I’ll remember that next time.”
“No ‘next time,’ please,” Sissix said. “I’d rather not do this again.”
“Agreed,” Dr. Chef said. He glanced at the bot monitor. “Ashby, you’ve got about two more hours before you’re all patched up. Nothing you can do but lie there and take it easy.”
“That’s fine,” Ashby said. “I could use a nap.” The drugs were weighing on him, and conversing had worn him out.
“And I could use a meal. Ladies, would you care to accompany me to the kitchen? Let’s see if we can’t throw together some comfort food from whatever the Akaraks left behind.” He patted Rosemary’s back. “I’ve got some new seedlings that I think will make you smile.”
Rosemary inhaled, pulling herself back together. “One more thing,” she said. “About Ohan.”
“Ah,” Dr. Chef said. “Yes.”
“Was it—”
“True? Yes, I’m afraid so. And I’m sorry I had to tear down Ohan’s privacy like that. It was the only thing I could think to do.”
“Stars,” said Rosemary. “I had no idea.”
“I just found out, too,” Sissix said. She frowned at Ashby. “And I still don’t understand why that is.”
Ashby sighed. “We’ll argue about this later, Sis. My head is swimming.”
“Fine,” she said. “You get to play the injury card this time.” She tapped a claw on his chest. “Later.”
Once alone in the med bay, Ashby reached for the paper letter tucked away in his pocket. He made himself push back the drugs’ call for sleep just a few minutes longer.
—a trait I am glad of.
I don’t know how long this run will take (it’s a delicate one), and I know you won’t be back to central space until next standard. But I have more paper, so at least I can say hello when I make market stops. And I’ll send you a scrib letter as soon as I’m clear. This paper has far too little space for me to write everything I want to say, so know this: I love you, and I think of you always.
Travel safe.
Once the bay doors were fixed and a meal was consumed, Jenks did several things. First, he took a shower. The whole ship felt gross now, after having those mech-suit bastards pawing around. He couldn’t scrub out the ship, but he could clean himself, at least. He ignored the fifteen minute shower rule. It wouldn’t be that much extra work for the water reclamation system, and today of all days, Kizzy would forgive him for it.
Back in his room, he retrieved the info chip from the pocket of his crumpled pants. He sat naked on his bed, plugged the chip into his scrib, and read the message.
Hey, buddy. Found a seller for that software upgrade we talked about. He’s willing to get you the whole kit and kaboodle, but he wants to be paid up front, non-refundable, non-negotiable. You know how these specialty techs are.
The guy you need to talk to is Mr. Crisp. I’ve heard his name kicked around before. Solid reputation. He’s got his own asteroid and everything. Hell of a programmer, good with custom work. He’s expecting to hear from you. Contact info’s below. Please don’t share it with anyone.
And hey—think about what I told you. You sure this is the right upgrade for you?
Come see us again soon. I’ll make dinner this time. Or, well, I’ll buy it, at least.
His eyes lingered over the word “kit.” He knew what Pepper meant. He thought about what she had said at Port Coriol, about responsibility and consequences. He thought about it just long enough to be able to say that he’d done so. He put on some pants and walked down to Lovey’s core.
They talked for hours. All the risks and dangers had been spoken of before, a dozen times over. But as both comp techs and AIs knew well, redundancy in the name of safety was always a good idea.
“There are two things that bother me,” Lovey said. “Not enough to say no, but we need to make up our minds about them.”
“Shoot.”
“First, if I transfer into a kit, the ship will be without a monitoring system. Since I’ll effectively be quitting a job I care very much about, I want to make sure I have a good replacement lined up.”
Jenks drummed his fingers against his lips as he thought. “I don’t know why, but something about installing a new AI feels strange, under the circumstances. Do you think she’d be jealous, seeing you walking around while she’s living in your core?”
“Depends on the AI and whether or not she’s interested in a body to start with. But I do think it could cause problems. Say, hypothetically, she sees me walking around, and she wants to know why she can’t have the same opportunity. Why I got a choice that she didn’t.”
“That’s a good point,” Jenks said, frowning. “And it wouldn’t be fair.” He sighed. “So then—”
“Don’t give up yet, I’m not finished. What if a non-sentient model replaces me?”
Jenks blinked. A non-sentient model could do Lovey’s job, yes, with some heavy tweaking, but it would never be someone they could speak to in a relatable way. It would never really be part of the crew. “Wouldn’t that bug you?”
“Why would it?”
“Living with an AI that was designed to be less intelligent than you, just smart enough to do hard work, but not allowed to grow into something more? I dunno, I’ve always been on the fence about that.”
“You’re sweet, but that’s silly.”
He smirked. “Why?”
Lovey paused. “Are you comfortable with the idea of beasts of burden? Horses pulling carts, that kind of thing?”
“Yeah, so long as they’re treated well.”
“Well, then, there you go.”
“Hmm.” He’d need to chew on that. “It’d be Ashby’s call, in the end.”
“That’s the second thing that bothers me. We keep glossing over what Ashby’s going to do when he learns what we’re up to.”
Jenks sighed again, heavily. “I honestly don’t know. He’s not going to be happy about it. But he won’t report us. That’s not his style. Best case, he gives me an earful, but lets us stay. Worst case, we have to leave.”
“That worst case isn’t unrealistic. He could lose his license if he’s found knowingly carrying illegal tech.”
“Yeah, but how often do we get searched? And when we do, it’s not like—”
“Jenks.”
“What? The chances of us getting caught—”