Niah

Behind Hart's manic bluster, Wish is making exaggerated gestures and I try not to laugh. The robot seems to be on a rather pronounced tirade so I wait, wondering if he'll run himself out of battery or blow a circuit.

"You should not be here. These are the private quarters of Captain Bellamy. What are you doing? You should not touch his things. These are the private quarters of Captain Bellamy. You are not Captain Bellamy. You may share a remarkable passing likeness and genetic material but you are not the captain. You are a sleeper. You will only become necessary once we have returned to Nar. Why are you in here? You should not be in here. You should not touch his things. These are the private quarters of Captain Bellamy." His litany of reprimands winds to a stop and he falls silent. Then he blinks and glances at the open closet behind me and the secret compartment within. "NO!" he cries.

The bot zips over and attempts to slam the panel across the closet. The bar protruding from the wall catches him about the head as he reaches around it to pull the panel from its slot in the wall. Hart huffs as he starts pushing buttons on the control panel trying to figure out how to retract and re-secure the clothes locker.

Seeing his clunky fingers working all sorts of wrong commands on the screen I reach past him and nudge his hands out of the way. After three precise clicks the pole slides back into the wall, taking what remains of Bellamy's clothing with it. The panel slides across and it clicks into place, locked.

"Satisfied?" I ask. Hart turns toward me. His head tilts down and then up as if he's looking me over. A small ring pops up on his face screen beneath his eyes.

A soft hiss sounds from him. "What are you wearing?"

I remember the heavy drape of the coat over my shoulders and go to shrug it off with a guilty grimace. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched it."

Hart reaches his metal fingers out and places his hand on my shoulder. He halts the material before I can pull it down my arms. "No," he says. "Leave it on. It suits you."

I furrow my brow, confused by the odd light of reflection that seems to flicker in Hart's features. The tilt of his head, the shimmer of brightness around the lights of his eyes. The image of a single teardrop slides down the screen. "Emotion?" I ask.

He hums, then shakes his head. "Of course not. Such emotional response is not computable."

"But that was a tear, Hart. You really cared about him, didn't you?"

"My captain was a good man," Hart blustered. "He didn't deserve–" He pauses and shakes his head, then turns away. His shoulders tilt forward in what could be considered a slump as he slowly sways toward the door. As he reaches it, he turns back and looks up at me. His eyes are expressionless orbs again. "Have you completed the repairs?"

I swallow and shake my head. I feel smaller and smaller as he keeps his gaze fixed on me. Beside him, Wish shifts from foot to foot. "Oh, come on, Hart. We weren't doing any harm."

His head turns toward her and his eyes blink. "You have no reason to be here. If you are not repairing the ship then you are unnecessary to its function and should return to your sleeping pod."

Wish and I both shudder. I shake my head and cross the room. "I'm going back to the lab."

"Me too." Wish falls in beside me. We walk back, heads down, as we navigate the debris-strewn corridor. When we reach the junction, I glance left and then right trying to remember the way I'd come. "That way," Wish says, pointing to the heavy metal doors of the lift. We step inside and zoom up two floors. Wish leads the way back down the long corridor.

Before we reach the lab I turn to Hart, who is trailing behind us like a prison guard ensuring his charges do not stray. The droid lifts up as if startled as he comes to a halt before me. His head tilts back and he gazes up at me.

"Hart, the processor units are stored on the next floor down, aren't they?" I ask.

His blue orbs blink and he nods. "Yes, come and see."

He turns back to the lift and guides us down one floor and along a long corridor similar to the one that leads to the lab. When the doors swish open, we enter a similarly shaped room. This one is arrayed in a series of spiralling columns that run the length of the floor to ceiling. Some offer a warm hum that sounds like normal function. Others are completely black, silent, and cold. Two have mild static sparks. And one is creating a strange hissing static that sounds like the garbled chatter of a whispered alien language.

Wish leans close. "What is that?"

Hart's chassis lifts as if he's shrugging his shoulders. "They are damaged and non-functioning."

I wander around the consoles. Occasionally, I plug in my tablet and navigate through the base code that runs these processors, links them to each other, and stores the vital archives and access memory that keeps the system running. It's difficult because even linking my device to the network creates a hanging stall that maxes out the memory functions for several long ticks. Thankfully, most of the processors are fully functional.

I keep my distance as I approach the two setting off static. I look carefully over the devices, wondering where the contact points are and if there might be a safe way to uncouple the power so that they're both not dangerously live. They're draining power and processor speed from the overall system. As I crouch close to the floor, I see it, a series of frazzled wires crossing each other. I sigh, then stand and turn to Hart.

"I can probably fix these two but I'll need some tools." He blinks, or at least I expect him to, but instead the twin orbs wink shut and his face screen blinks out altogether. I startle. "Hart?" He doesn't respond.

"Hart?" Wish echoes. She's standing beside him so jostles his shoulder. He remains silent and dark. "Hart, wake up!" Wish gives him a shake and his body glides smoothly back and forth.

"Oh? What?" He blusters, blinking back to life. "Is there an earthquake?"

Wish takes a deep breath. "You spaced out on us for a moment there."

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

His head tilts. "I did? Oh dear. I do apologise. Were you saying something?"

I stare at him a long moment, wondering exactly what is going on with him. In fact, I'm staring so long that eventually the odd little eyebrow light pops up on his face screen. "Oh!" I say, remembering my original point. "I was saying that if I had the right tools, I could fix this."

"The fabrication database has an extensive storage of three-dimensional design specifications. But it requires processing capacity and is currently offline. The crew uses the drive to fabricate and then deconstruct as necessity dictates. Does necessity dictate?"

I nod. "Yes. Can you show me the fabrication database?"

"The fabricator is in the lab. Come on."

He spins about to dart off down the corridor again so I call out, "Wait!" His head turns back to me, and then his body. "We'll get to that next, but I just want to check over these last units so I can decide how to fix them. They might be easier to bring online."

I trace over the four silent units and carefully adjust the wires and switches so that they match those on the fifteen working units. I plug my tablet into each one but nothing happens. "Elixr?"

"Yes, November-One-Alpha-Four?"

"It's Niah. Can you do a systems check to tell me if power is getting through the circuits to units three, nine, thirteen, and sixteen?"

A long moment passes and I'm about to check in to see if she heard my command when the unit in front of me lights up and starts hissing. I jump back, afraid it might spark, but the static hiss dips into a series of clicks and beeps as it powers up. I glance down at my tablet to see the reboot commands running default diagnostics as the unit comes back online. The code is clean and in about two deccas the system starts humming along with the other functional units.

"Power restored to unit thirteen."

I smile. "Thank you Elixr, and the others?"

"Processing."

She falls silent again so I wait to see if any of the others come back online. Suddenly an arc of electricity jettisons from unit three. I jump back as it sparks across to nine. The electrical contact flares, singeing a black-edged hole through the unit's interface.

"Oops!" says the soft feminine voice of the ship. Wish chuckles and I can't help feeling a wry sense of humour.

"Oops?"

"Error, systems malfunction in processor room."

I laugh. "Yeah, we got that Elixr. So, I'm guessing there is an electrical fault with three?"

"And nine has sustained damage."

I sigh. "Yeah, I'll say." I step up to the unit and examine the components. The damage is relatively isolated on the surface, although there's no way to really know if it has blown the circuits inside. I peel back the outer shell casing. Most of the interior looks okay. "Elixr, can you initiate the cooling fan on nine?"

"Processing."

A slight hiss sounds from the unit and the interface sparks with small flickers of electricity as if the display is trying to light up. I carefully plug my tablet into the unit and it shows the start-up diagnostics which registers the damage and lists several other interior parts. I sigh. It's going to take factors to fix and that's assuming the fabricator can make these parts.

I manually power down the unit and turn to the last of the four. "Okay, Elixr, what about sixteen?"

I step back from the unit, not sure if it might arc. Hart watches from a distance and I half suspect he's afraid it will arc in his direction when the power comes on. Metal to metal. But long deccas pass and nothing happens.

"Elixr?"

"Three concurrent tests indicate a systematic failure in the power coupling between units sixteen and seventeen. Power is unable to feed through the system."

"So, it's bypassing the unit?" I ask, my brow furrowed as I try to make sense of the odd coupling behaviour.

"Affirmative."

"Where is that coupling located?"

"Processing."

Moments later a panel in the deck of the room slides open and reveals a chunk of thick cord. Three coupling units are linked together but one sits oddly in its socket. "Elixr, power down all electricity through this coupling station."

"Affirmative."

I reach in and pull the unit out. It's fitted with a strange connection that seems to create a strangle-hold on the cord. "What–" I peer carefully down at the pieces which fit together in intricate locks. With careful fingers, I twist the sequence through a series of pressure points and it unlocks, clattering into the compartment below. I reach down and pick it up. I look over the odd device and wonder what it could possibly have been intended to do besides straightjacket the power into processor sixteen.

I recouple the two cords and set them back in their socket in the bay then sit back. "Okay, try it again, Elixr." The unit hums to life, proceeds through its start-up diagnostics and connection beeps and clicks, then settles into smooth pattern with the other functioning units. I get up and plug in my tablet. "Everything looks normal. Wait–"

It's gone almost as soon as I see it but flickers back in a staggered pattern. I count the beats and time it so that I can press the strange symbol before it disappears again. As the lines of code start scrolling the screen, I feel a sense of dread and my breath shudders from my body. "Elixr eliminate power to sixteen immediately." The screen goes black. "Run diagnostics on one through fifteen."

"Processing."

"What was it?" Wish asks, peering over my shoulder.

I shake my head. "I'm not sure, but it definitely didn't look friendly. I think someone planted a virus in this processor."

"A virus? What would that do?"

I unplug my tablet and run a quick diagnostic check. It's clean, thank goodness. "I don't know. But I'm going to have to detach the unit from everything else so that I can safely take a closer look."

Hart hovers close. "Will that get Elixr fully functional?"

"She should already be running more smoothly. We got a couple of units back online and I'm pretty confident that I can fix at least these three."

Wish waves at the unit she's been examining. Its strange static hiss still pulses from the column. "What about this one?"

I plug in my tablet and browse through the interface, checking the databanks as I run diagnostics. "It's running at capacity, although it doesn't seem to be doing anything in particular. It's–" I push a few commands on my tablet. "I think the static is a distress signal."

"A distress signal?"

"That's what it says in the file names. It's a series of audio files marked as warnings and distress."

"But I can't hear anything."

"I know. But–" I listen. Within the odd static are fractions of variating irregularities. "Non-mechanic."

"What?"

"It's too imperfect. I think these are Narian vocal patterns."

"Can you filter it so that we can understand?"

"Not from here. I could probably build a three-dimensional translator blueprint for the fabricator if I had enough time."

Hart bleeps. "Time, time. We have all the time in Nar, and none. Will listening to radio voices get Elixr running at full capacity so that we can resume our return trip to Nar?"

Wish looks shattered as she realises the answer is probably no. I think on it a moment then respond, "What if the distress signal can tell us what went wrong with the ship the first time? What happened to the crew? Is it really safe to return to Nar if we're bringing something with us that could destroy everything?"

The blue orbs of Hart's eyes widen and a small O-ring appears as his mouth. "No! We must return to fulfil our mission! We must bring back the cure! We must save Nar, not destroy it!"

Wish turns to him. "Then we better make the time to check out this message."

I touch her shoulder. "I think we can make headway on both. The fabricator should function now. I'll repair the other units and we can get navigation back online to replot the course. Then, while we travel, we can work out the static."

***

Wish

Niah gets so lost in her work that she forgets I'm even here. I sit for a time, watching her move between her workstation and the fabricator. It's pretty boring stuff. I wish I could help but I don't think there's anything I can do.

With a sigh, I spin in the chair in front of this desk for a while. The map on the tablet flickers but I've seen most of the ship now. I pull out a ration bar and place the tablet on the workstation. The large holo-screen flickers to life and I blink at the user interface. On the flat of the desk a series of keys and inputs are glowing.

I glance back at Niah but she's absorbed in what she's doing. I turn back to the display. "What harm is there in exploring a little?" I mutter. Niah doesn't even hear me.

Most of the machine is pretty boring. I come across a couple of games and spend a little while on each. There's not much to them but at least it's passing the time. Anything is better than Hart breathing down my neck about how useless I am.

Still, there's only so many times you can win before even that gets tiresome. Instead, I begin digging into the ship's archives. They date back dozens of narcycles, maybe hundreds. It's a treasure trove of interesting facts about the crew, the ship, and even about Nar. I dig around, hunting for something familiar, wondering if I'll ever find myself among the ship's crew.

I could spend several factors here. I munch on another ration bar as I scroll through some of the documents. Everything is here, an archive of the ship's entire history. "Now this could get interesting."