Amy Larson sat at the table in the galley of the Blackstar, one leg pulled up, her head resting on her knee, watching Rutherford float around in front of the kitchen counters. The android had left his docking station and had affixed his arms - two sleek appendages with three joints that ended in hands with three fingers - to his body. For some inconceivable reason, he had also found it necessary to put on a chef's hat, which rested uneasily on top of his spherical, headless body as he prepared breakfast for his human captain.
The scent of scrambled eggs with bacon attracted Ensign Darwin who entered the room with an accusing meow that seemed to ask why he hadn't been invited. He jumped up on the counter, startling Rutherford. The dark line that ran horizontally around the circumference of his body lit up in a traveling ripple.
"Ensign! I must insist that you climb down again," Rutherford demanded, "This is inappropriate behavior for a crew member of your rank!"
The cat hissed in response. Null, in control of the body, smiled and got up to pick up the cat, who was as reluctant to follow orders as her, it seemed.
"Don't blame him, Rutherford. I kept him up half of the night by thrashing around in my sleep. No wonder he's grumpy. But I'm sorry, Darwin, that's my food," she explained to the cat as she put him down on the floor.
They hadn't eaten anything in about fourty-eight hours, ever since they had disembarked the Blackstar to pose for dead in a derelict space ship with a faked beacon signal to attract those raiders. After their return, they had ordered Heisenberg and Rutherford to take the Blackstar as far and fast away as possible. Lars had disabled all systems on the Butcher's station, but the raiders might still find a way to come after them and give them a piece of their mind for killing the Butcher and stopping their lucrative business. They had wanted as much of a head start as possible. While the androids took care of the ship and their new cargo, their captain had gone straight to her cabin and slept twenty hours - more or less restfully.
When Amy Larsson had emerged from her cabin again, she had looked like a walking corpse, but inside, Lars and Null felt, for the most part, at peace. The Blackstar was adrift in space now, somewhere halfway between two small systems, a smooth, black vessel on a pitch black sea. There was a certain comfort in the peaceful nothingness that surrounded them here, and they took the time to take care of some long overdue tasks: taking a lengthy hot shower, cleaning dried blood from their clothes, and now feeding the body.
"Here you go, ma'am," Rutherford said, placing the plate loaded with food in front of them.
She dug in immediately, despite the growling and rumbling of their stomach, which probably would have preferred they went a bit easy on the cholesterol.
"My, you seem to have appetite for two today, ma'am," Rutherford remarked as she silently shoveled the food into her face. "Should I prepare seconds?"
At his words, she froze, and scowled at him across the table.
You know, Null, there really is no reason why they shouldn't know, Lars spoke inside their mind, trying to subtly get her to ease the tension in their neck and shoulders again.
"No thank you," she replied to Rutherford, but really probably addressing both of them.
There's plenty of reasons, she concurred, returning her attention to her breakfast.
They wouldn't judge. They're AI themselves. Heisenberg would probably not really understand it... Higgs would be fascinated. And to Rutherford it wouldn't really make a difference. But it might be better for you – us - not to keep such a secret from them, he suggested.
Nobody can know, ever, she insisted. Anybody who knew would become a liability. Just one wrong word, a misplaced expression, a spreading rumor... Imagine what they might do to us if they found out.
Images whirred through her side of the mind, vague pictures and ideas of horrific scientific experiments, drawn from a wild mixture of memories of the Butcher's lab and even worse places they had been to, and fictitious tales. It was an exaggeration, he knew, but it didn't really make it any less terrifying. The kind of horrors she could conjure up in the blink of an eye never failed to take him by surprise.
They would take us apart, just to see how we work. And then they'd kill us, like any other aug.
What about our friends on New Elysium then? He asked. Why not tell them? It's a place for people just like us...
Friends? She repeated the word, turning it over in their mind like an alien artifact of an impossible geometrical shape.
She scraped her fork through he leftovers on her plate in silence. Lars tried to peer behind the veil, but he was hesitant to do anything that might upset her. After their talk last night, he could sense that she was better, but she still wasn't exactly well. There were too many chasms on her side of their mind to bury them all in a single night.
New Elysium is a place for outcasts, she said. Misfits. A sanctuary for the persecuted, yes. We'd fit there perfectly, except... it is a place for anybody who has nowhere else left to go. So we're not like them. We don't really belong to New Elysium.
She stood up, patted Rutherford on the smooth hull of his body and muttered a thank you before she left and made for the bridge.
We don't belong in a place like that, she continued, but that's okay. Because we still have places to go. We have a whole universe left to go. And I won't let myself be locked in a cage and spend the rest of my days licking Mad Jack's boots so he will graciously allow me to fly a ship for the fleet. Oh no.
Places to go? Hm... Lars mused. So where would you like to go now? I take it you don't want to return to that cage yet, even only for a visit.
She shook her head almost imperceptibly. No.
She didn't elaborate, but he sensed that she continued to move around ideas on her side of the mind.
They found the bridge empty, Heisenberg was probably somewhere in the ship's armory tending to his massive collection of weapons. He could feel Null relish in the silence for a moment. Rutherford hadn't connected back to the system yet. The engines were on low thrust and except for their quiet and soft hum it was as calm on the bridge as in the dead of space outside.
She plopped down into the captain's chair and crossed her legs and arms, staring at the view outside as if it held the answer to an unspoken question. Lars could feel her thoughts whirl about around him, but they were strangely illegible to him. He felt a pang of a strange, incorporeal pain at the thought that despite their long talk last night, she still was withdrawn into her own space. If he had been in control of the body, he suspected he would have felt it close to the human heart.
Null, I think we should talk, he began.
We're talking now, aren't we?
I mean we should talk more seriously, he said.
Using the sight of the stars outside the window as a starting point, he conjured up images of other views of space that they had shared in the past months. They had traveled so far together, he didn't even have to show her any of his old memories to evoke a response in her any longer. He preferred their shared memories now, as seen through human eyes. He called upon a specific one now, a curious system they had passed by once, with two stars orbited by just a single smaller planet.
Lars, you can talk to me about anything, anytime, she said, the expression on her face softening a little bit as she relaxed and her whirling thoughts seemed to calm down.
Good. I want to talk about you right now. I'm worried about you.
Okay. Almost anything, she corrected herself. The whirling thoughts receded back behind the veil altogether, even farther from his reach.
He sighed inside their mind. He knew that there was no use in continuing to poke at her, she would share what she was thinking about eventually. Hopefully.
Well, he began, all I wanted to say is-
A beeping sound interrupted their internal dialogue.
"Ma'am, a message from New Elysium," Rutherford announced via the intercom. "It's Doctor Harper."
Behind the veil, Lars could sense that the whirling thoughts were quivering now. Physically, Amy Larsson tensed up, and he didn't need to read Null's thoughts to know that she was thinking of an excuse not to take that call.
It's either Cyril or me. You'll have to talk to one of us, Lars threatened.
"Fine. Put it through," Amy Larsson ordered through gritted teeth.
Hovering above the interface before them, a projected image of a man's face appeared. The image was tinted green and constantly glitching, occasionally freezing, replaying short loops or being interrupted by a brief moment of static.
A live feed? So far away from New Elysium? She thought in surprise.
He must be sending through one of Dex' toys, he reasoned.
"Cyril," she addressed the man stoically, "What do you want?"
"Amy, it's good to see you," Cyril said, and gave her a warm smile. She stared at the screen, her face unmoved, but Lars could sense her discomfort. She probably regretted choosing that conversation over the one with him.
"I wanted to check in on you. Haven't heard from you in a while, and you haven't been back here in, what... a month or so?" There was a significant lag between their ends of the communication channel, and his voice occasionally sounded mechanical and distorted.
"Six weeks," she confirmed.
"So when do you intend to return?" he asked.
"I don't know yet," she admitted.
Cyril scowled at her. "You are aware that that I will have to do another checkup on that new interface implant in your left hand to make sure it integrated correctly? I told you after the surgery-"
"I'm aware. But I already put it to use. It works perfectly fine, thank you. No need to worry," she replied.
"I am your doctor. It's my job to worry about you."
Good grief, it's like there's two of you, she thought, addressing Lars, who found himself smiling at that. Doctor Cyril Harper was one of the few really good people they had met since their escape, and his concern for Null – well, rather, for Amy – was genuine. He liked the man.
"And don't get me started on your liver," the doctor continued, his face taking on a somber expression, as he looked down from the camera and seemed to check something on a different screen.
"My liver?" she asked, startled.
"Your liver parameters are the worst I've ever seen. It's almost as if you're chronically poisoned or something. The implants are keeping up with the damage for now, but in the long run, we'll have to figure out what's causing it, in particular if it's one of your old augments," he said, in what was probably a soft voice, but due to the constant interruptions of the feed it sounded strange.
Widow's kiss, Lars realized. It was stupid of us to think it wouldn't harm us.
It was stupid of me, you mean, she remarked.
No, that's not what I meant-
"Sorry Cyril, I still have some things to do, but..." she got up from her chair with a deep sigh. "I promise you, when I return, I'll have a nice little gift for you."
"I'd rather have you return now, that would be enough of a gift," he said in a low voice, looking at her with a strange expression in his eyes.
Lars could feel how their heartbeat accelerated slightly. She went up to the console, until she was face to face with the projected image of Cyril. Behind the veil, her thoughts were raging like an storm-torn ocean, but she contained it all. Lars remained perfectly still, so as to not perturb the delicate barrier that held back that terrifying tide.
"Please come back, Amy."
"Sorry, no can do. You know how it is.... the sea is calling, and... you're kinda blocking the line," she said and cut the feed.
Wow. That was rude, even for your standards, Lars remarked.
I can't handle him when he's like that, she said, shrugging her shoulders lightly.
Like what? Like a normal human being? He asked. Null, I think we have to seriously talk about taking some organic crew members on board, you're spending too much time around AI.
I'm spending literally all my time with an AI, she concurred, and I am perfectly content with that, thank you very much.
To prevent him from asking any further, she focused their attention on the interface console in front of her. She distracted their thoughts by checking the ship's systems, but of course, everything was in perfect order. Rutherford may not have been the best pilot, but he was meticulous in keeping the ship in perfect shape, inside and outside. She was stalling, Lars knew. He just wasn't really sure yet on what, exactly.
She turned away from the console again as a metallic clang resounded from the door. With an exaggerated, heavy sigh – after all, androids didn't breathe – Higgs entered the room. He had spent most of his time since their return with cleaning, checking and sorting the hardware they had stolen from the Butcher's laboratory. The fresh parts in particular, the ones they had brought back in the bloody bag, had taken a lot of his time and attention. Judging from his demeanor, he wasn't particularly happy about that task
"Now that was probably the most disgusting thing I've ever done," he lamented.
For us too, Lars noted in their head, forcing down the memory of the Butcher with great effort.
"So what do you think of the loot?" she asked, smiling at him. For some reason, Lars realized, Null really had an easier time interacting with those androids than with other humans.
"I spent four hours alone on scrubbing white matter from about a hundred and fifty nano-tetrodes," Higgs complained, "Only to realize that most of them were made with silica composite and I could easily just put everything through decontamination. Now there's also about seven hundred meters worth of subcutaneous wiring of various quality. It should be easy to recycle. Doctor Harper will probably be quite happy about that."
The image of Cyril's face flashed up in their mind at the mention of his name, with that glum expression on his face as Null had cut him off. Lars couldn't help but feel bad for the man, and he hoped that he would forgive Amy's rudeness when they brought back what they had found. If Null ever made up her mind on returning to New Elysium, that was.
As Higgs continued to report in detail on his findings, two pairs of his arms – the humanoid ones at the side of his body and the spider like ones protruding from his back - continued to gesture excessively. Then he stretched out his frontal arms and presented her with a small metal box.
"Something of special interest?" she asked him, taking the box.
He didn't answer, and waited for her to open it. Her breath caught when she realized what was inside. On a pillow of black fabric lay a mechanical eyeball. The cables protruding from its backside had been meticulously cleaned and isolated, and lay fanned out on the pillow like delicate silver strands of nerves. The eye's iris had an icy blue color, so pale that it was almost grey.
"I found it among the parts in the bag," Higgs explained. "I thought you might not have realized what it was when you collected it because it was so grimey, and I also thought... you might like it. It's not exactly the same color, but it's a 96% match. I checked the spectrum. The difference shouldn't be noticeable to most humans."
"Higgs, that's..." her voice was quivering, and both Lars and Null found themselves speechless.
"I'm certain Doctor Harper will know a way to transfer the technical augments from your eye to this one, especially if Dex helps him," the android said, turning away slightly. He had no humanoid face to speak of, but the front of his head consisted of a triangular shaped panel with several embedded sensors and small lights. It gave him the appearance of an insect with complex compound eyes. Over time, Lars and Null had come understand how the pattern of illumination of these lights related to the androids emotive state. Right now, he seemed a bit bashful, Lars realized.
"That's.... very thoughtful of you, Higgs," he took control of their body to speak, because Null was still speechless and would have continued to stare at the eye without saying anything. As he softly took over, she snapped out.
"Thank you," they both said in symbiosis.
"Oh, the things I do for you, captain..." the android said, and again imitated a theatrical sigh, causing her to chuckle.
Lars knew that Null had never thought much about having their eye augment exchanged to something more naturally looking, except for the earlier days of their time together, when she had constantly worried about being discovered as an augment. These days, she didn't care about that any longer. They had their ways to disguise themselves efficiently – the simplest option was always to wear the eye patch – and she had come to accept it as a part of herself. But the fact that Higgs had thought of them when he had found that eye filled her with warmth and happiness nonetheless.
Lars hung out in the back of their mind again and just enjoyed the feeling of her happiness. He decided that the things he had wanted to talk about might as well wait. Even if they were drifting in space aimlessly right now, he didn't really care as long as Null was happy.
However, a while later, Heisenberg ended up being the one to ask the question Lars had been thinking of for a while now.
"So, my lord, where will we go from here?" the android asked.
He had joined them on the bridge, and seemed somewhat restless. He was probably bored – he had recently finished browsing through the entire backup of the ship's old databases. Whether it was for his enjoyment or to find more torture material, Lars was not entirely certain. At any rate, he had come back from it with an impressive knowledge on old earth history, although most of it he had acquired through cheesy historical drama and costume movies. As a side effect of this endeavor, he sometimes now addressed them with even weirder titles than usual.
"Excellent question, Heisenberg," Null said, and Lars shifted his attention back to her mind, eager to learn the answer himself. She took a deep breath.
Lars, she spoke inside their mind, startling him.
All of a sudden, she pulled the both of them completely into their mind and shut out the outside world. She did that from time to time, usually when they had to make a quick decision. Time passed much slower inside this space, and she seemed to control it. He had never quite understood how she did it, and he suspected that this would always remain an ability unique to her, perhaps because after all, she was the host, and he was just the guest in this space, in this brain.
Finally, you're ready to talk? He asked playfully.
I didn't know how to tell you, she admitted.
Tell me what?
He could feel worry well up inside – or outside? – of him. They were even more incorporeal in this space than anywhere else in her mind, all abstract energy, and closer than anywhere else. It was like every bit of his binary existence overlapped with a subatomic particle of hers. It was a strange place.
I made a promise to repay you for helping me escape from Riga, she said. But we might have to delay that plan.
Right, the plan. They still had that memory crystal. Tucked away in a terminal aboard this ship, it contained critical information for that mission, but of the kind that had an expiration date. But there were more important things to him now.
Oh. That's alright, he said, feeling his initial worry put at ease. We've been sidetracking for a while now, but it's okay. Listen, Null, even if we never actually do it-
No! That's not it! I made a promise and I will keep it, she cut him off. It's just....
He tried to feel her emotions, but she was only energy in this place, subatomic particles with no texture or cohesion. He suspected that she had brought him here on purpose because she did not want him to know what exactly it was that she felt.
There is something I feel like I need to do. Loose ends that need to be tied up.
Of course. He understood immediately. Why didn't you tell me sooner?
You've given me enough shit about organic indecisiveness that I thought I better think this one through carefully beforehand, she said.
She had clearly taken his jibes more seriously than he had thought, he realized with dismay, and he would have to find a way to make up for that eventually.
Null.... I'm with you. Always. No matter where you go. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I'm doubting you. I don't.
She remained silent for a moment, but her subatomic self seemed to continue to vibrate around him.
Thank you, Lars.
She ejected them from the strange space so rapidly that the sensation of being flung back into the body reminded him of a snapping rubber band.
"...com channel with Enigma," he heard her speak an order. Less than a second had passed in the world outside their mind.
What do you want from him? Are you planning another heist? He asked, confused, as he momentarily found himself completely unable to read any of her thoughts. Enigma, that was the code name of their informant.
No, she replied. First we need to figure out why the last one almost went south.