(Okay, that sounds way worse than I mean it. It would take a special kind of weapon to shoot me in a way that would kill me immediately, in a way that a MedSystem couldn’t repair. The SecUnit with B-E Sub-Supervisor Dellcourt had one, but the two I had seen here had not carried any extra weapons, though both probably had an onboard projectile weapon like Three. Barish-Estranza hadn’t come here expecting to fight SecUnits or CombatBots or CombatUnits or anything else on that level, so it was unlikely the negotiator (or “negotiator” since we’re taking about a corporation) would walk in armed with something that was capable of delivering that kind of impact. If it actually turned out to be a trap, I guess they could have sent in one of their SecUnits, which would have been interesting because surprise, me too, and I honestly had no idea what would happen next.)
(I told ART-drone that I suspected the separatist colonists would think both us and Barish-Estranza were pretty shitty, if the negotiation turned into a big SecUnit fight, regardless of who won.)
(You’d win, ART-drone said.)
(Yeah, well, normally, sure. It was basing that on my past performance stats. Right now I wasn’t angry enough for a good SecUnit fight. Mostly I was just tired.)
The hatch at the corridor’s end was big and square, and had a sign and an old-fashioned feed marker in one of the languages the main site Adamantine colonists used, readable via Thiago’s translation module. It was a safety warning about checking the room to make sure it had good atmosphere before entering. There was a little monitoring readout beside it. Not as important for me, as I don’t have the same kind of breathing restrictions as a human or augmented human and would have plenty of time to walk out (stroll out, even) if the life support were cut off.
Also, AdaCol2 was in control of the life support, and I kind of trusted it? Or was indifferent enough to what happened that it amounted to trust? (Yeah, I know, that doesn’t sound right.)
As AdaCol2 opened the safety seal on the door for me, the overhead lights started to blink on. I sent ScoutDrone2 ahead to station itself up on the ceiling. Its video wove between the bands of shadow until it halted to focus on the entrance at the opposite end of the chamber.
The hatch slid open and a human in a B-E environmental suit stepped through. ART-drone said, This is unfortunate. It’s Supervisor Leonide.
You’re kidding me, I said, and at the same time Iris said, Who?
ART-drone pulled my drone camera view and zoomed in for the humans. The chamber had already pressurized and the filtered air had a high quality rating. The approaching figure let the helmet of their suit fold down into a broad collar around their shoulders. I could see ART-drone was right, it was Leonide.
When Supervisor Leonide had first spoken to Arada on the comm and then in person, I thought she looked as perfect as one of the humans who acted in the shows and serials, the ones that were made in the Corporation Rim, where nobody had any skin issues and their hair looked good even if it was messy. She still looked like that, though my drone video picked up subtle cosmetic enhancements to her brown skin, and her dark hair was coiled more to the back of her head now. She was still wearing the metallic chips and gems around her right ear; I didn’t even think any were feed interfaces, they were just for show.
Back in the room, on ScoutDrone1’s video, Ratthi sat up straight, his eyes going wide. On the feed, he said, Oh shit.
Alert to the fact that shit had just gone wrong but not how wrong, Iris asked, You’ve met this person before?
Arada spoke with her, when we first encountered the B-E supply vessel, Ratthi replied. ScoutDrone1 watched him draw a hand down his face. In despair? Probably despair. An in-person meeting. SecUnit went with her.
Tarik grimaced. Maybe she won’t recognize it.
Leonide walked forward confidently, so I did, too. Just without the confidence. The floor was smooth with some kind of sealant over the stone, a little grit from dust grating under my boots. I folded my hood and faceplate back because it would be extremely suspicious at this point if I didn’t. I had engaged all my walk/stand-like-a-human code so maybe she wouldn’t recognize me. When she had seen me before I was wearing ART’s crew uniform, and my hair was flat, and she had been expecting to see a SecUnit. I was in an environmental suit now and Amena had made my hair fluffy (she was trying to make me feel better) and Leonide expected to see some random human. Risk assessment suggested I had a 63 percent chance of pulling this off.
At 3.4 meters away, Leonide halted. I halted, too. Her forehead crinkled and she said, “I recognize you.” Her expression turned incredulous. “You’re the SecUnit.”
Well, fuck risk assessment.
In the room, the humans made various expressions and gestures but I didn’t think they were surprised.
I could stand here and argue with Leonide about whether I was a SecUnit or not but I knew she was smart enough to see it as a stalling tactic. Also, I had nothing to stall for, this was pretty much it. I said, “I’m the SecUnit.”
Her gaze flicked around, checking for the human supervisor who should be here. I don’t think she thought I was a rogue; if she had, I think she would have called for backup or tried to retreat. Her jaw set in a grim line. “Is this a threat?”
I said, “Have you done something that you feel you should be threatened for?”
Yes, I knew it was a mistake, I knew it instantly, just not instantly enough to shut my fucking mouth. Seriously, I’m coding at least a two-second delay right now. I pulled a secure feed connection with Iris and said, I fucked it up. What do I do?
It was a mistake because the tension went out of Leonide’s shoulders and neck, her eyes narrowed, and my threat assessment spiked. Because, while she was afraid of a mindless killing machine, she wasn’t afraid of sarcasm. And if I was talking and being sarcastic, I wasn’t a mindless killing machine.
Her voice dry, Leonide said, “This venture continues to be full of surprises.”
Shitty, shitty surprises.
Iris replied, You did not fuck up. You have a connection with her now, she thinks she knows you. Our goal is to find out what she’s going to do to get these people to leave here and hand themselves over to a corporation. Just keep her talking, see what she reveals.
What Iris meant was that Leonide wouldn’t consider me a threat, not in the talking part, so she might let down her guard. Which, what the hell, maybe, anything’s possible.
To Leonide, I said, “You could leave.” This would be easier if I was angry at her, but she was just a typical corporate supervisor. I could be angry at her, I guess, since she tried to take Arada prisoner. But since the thing that happened I don’t think I’ve had an emotion that wasn’t the visual equivalent of a wet blanket crumpled on a floor.
Leonide didn’t appear to consider that suggestion seriously. “Why is the Preservation ship here? Has Mihira-Tideland offered Preservation a claim on the resources of this planet?”
I didn’t know if she really thought that because I was a SecUnit I would be compelled to answer a question from a human, or if she just wanted to give it a try to make sure it wouldn’t be that easy. I said, “Preservation already has all the alien contamination it needs.”