5.
The crew spent the thirty minutes preparing the Wallfish for FTL, and themselves for another round of cryo sleep. Ideally they would have had longer to recover from hibernation, as each cycle took a toll on their bodies. Still, they were well under the yearly limit. Two a month for three months had been the commercial limit for the Lapsang Corporation, but Kira knew private citizens and military personnel often far exceeded those limits. Though not without consequence.
They had one piece of good news before departure: Vishal burst into Control with a great big smile and said, “Listen! I had word from my uncle. My mother and sisters are on Luna, thank God.” And he crossed himself. “My uncle, he promised he would keep them safe. He has a shelter, buried very deep on Luna. They can stay with him as long as they need. Thank God!”
“That’s wonderful news, Vishal,” said Falconi, clasping him on the shoulder. “Truly.” And they all gave the doctor their congratulations.
When she could, Kira stole a quick break in her cabin. She pulled up a live view of the system and zoomed in on the small green-and-blue dot that was Earth.
Earth. The ancestral home of humanity. A planet swarming with life, and so much of it complex, multicellular organisms far more advanced than those found in most xenospheres. Only Eidolon could come close to the evolutionary accomplishments of Earth, and Eidolon didn’t possess a single self-aware species.
Kira had studied the vast diversity of Earth’s biome. All xenobiologists did. And she’d always hoped to travel there for real one day. But Orsted Station was the closest she’d come, and it seemed unlikely she would ever set foot on the planet.
The sight of Earth felt slightly unreal. To think that all of humanity until just three hundred years ago had lived and died on that single ball of mud. All those people, trapped, unable to venture forth among the stars as she and so many others had been able to.
Even the word earth came from the planet she was looking at. And moon from the pale sphere hanging in close proximity (both haloed with orbital rings, bright as silver wire).
The earth.
The moon.
The originals, and no others.
Kira took a shaky breath, finding herself unaccustomedly overcome with emotion. “Goodbye,” she whispered, and she wasn’t sure to whom or what she was talking.
Then she closed the display and went to rejoin the crew. And soon enough, the jump alert sounded, and the Wallfish transitioned to FTL, leaving behind Sol, Earth, Jupiter, Ganymede, the invading nightmares, and the vast majority of humanity’s teeming masses.
EXEUNT IV
1.
By the third jump out from Sol, everyone was in cryo save Falconi, Hwa-jung, and of course, Kira. Even Itari had entered its dormant state, cocooning itself within the port cargo hold (Falconi had decided there was no longer any reason to keep the Jelly in an airlock).
While they waited in interstellar space for the Wallfish to cool, before setting out on the last leg of their journey, Kira went to the galley and made short work of three reheated meal packs, four glasses of water, and an entire pouch of candied beryl nuts. Eating in zero-g was far from her favorite thing to do, but the xeno’s exertions on Orsted had left her ravenous.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Gregorovich during her meal. The ship mind was still locked out of the Wallfish’s computer system, sitting alone in his tomb-like casing. The fact disturbed her for several reasons, but mainly because she empathized. Kira knew what it was like to be alone in the dark—her time aboard the Valkyrie had more than acquainted her with that sensation—and she worried what it would do to Gregorovich. Being abandoned, isolated, was a fate she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. Not even the nightmares. Death was a far preferable end.
Also … although she was slow to admit it, Gregorovich had become her friend. Or as much of a friend as she and a ship mind were ever likely to be. Their conversations during FTL had been a comfort to Kira, and she didn’t like to see Gregorovich in his current predicament.
Back in Control, she tapped Falconi’s arm to get his attention and said, “Hey. What are you planning on doing about Gregorovich?”
Falconi sighed, and the reflected light of overlays vanished from his eyes. “What can I do? I tried talking with him, but he’s not making a whole lot of sense.” He rubbed his temples. “Right now my only real option is to throw him into cryo.”
“And then what? Keep him on ice from here on out?”
“Maybe,” said Falconi. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to trust him after this.”
“Could you—”
He stopped her with a look. “Do you know what they do to ship minds who refuse an order, barring extenuating circumstances?”
“Retire them?”
“Exactly.” Falconi jerked his chin. “The minds get yanked from their ships, and their flight credentials get revoked. Just like that. Even in civilian ships. And you know why?”
Kira pursed her lips, already anticipating the answer. “Because they’re too dangerous.”
With a finger twirled around his head, Falconi indicated their surroundings. “Any spaceship, even one as small as the Wallfish, is effectively a flying bomb. Ever think about what happens if someone—let’s say, oh, I don’t know, a deranged ship mind—flies a cargo tug or a cruiser into a planet?”
Kira winced as she remembered the accident on Orlog, one of the moons in her home system. The crater could still be seen with the naked eye. “Nothing good.”
“Nothing good.”
“And with all that, you were still comfortable keeping Gregorovich on board?” She eyed, him curious. “Seems like a hell of a risk.”
“It was. It is. But Gregorovich needed a home, and I thought we could help each other. Until now he’s never made me think he was a danger to us or the Wallfish.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Shit. I don’t know.”
“Could you limit Gregorovich’s access to just comms and sublight navigation?”
“Wouldn’t work. Once a ship mind is in one part of your system, it’s pretty much impossible to keep them out of the rest. They’re too smart, and they’re too integrated with the computers. It’s like trying to grab an eel with your bare hands; sooner or later they wriggle free.”
Kira rubbed her arms, thinking. Not good. Aside from her concern for Gregorovich as a person, she didn’t like the prospect of flying into hostile territory without him at the helm. “Do you mind if I talk with him?” She motioned toward the ceiling.
“Actually, it’s more like—” Falconi pointed at an angle toward the deck. “But why? I mean, you’re more than welcome to, but I don’t see what good it’s going to do.”
“Maybe not, but I’m worried about him. I might be able to help him calm down. We spent a fair bit of time talking in FTL.”
Falconi shrugged. “You can try, but again, I’m not sure what good it’s going to do. Gregorovich really sounded off.”
“How so?” Kira asked, her concern deepening.
He scratched his chin. “Just … weird. I mean, he’s always been different, but this is more than that. Like there’s something really wrong with him.” Falconi shook his head. “Honestly? It doesn’t matter how calm Gregorovich is or isn’t. I’m not giving control of the Wallfish back to him unless he can convince me this was a one-off event. And I don’t see how he can. Some things can’t be undone.”