Niah

The parts actually come together really easily. The fabricator is a dream to work with and the three-dimensional manipulation and construction program is almost instinctive. Although the repairs take several factors, I do eventually bring more of the processors back online. I measure the processor capacity with the new systems active and notice, finally, that there is a degree of buffer. "Elixr?"

"Yes, Captain."

I grimace. "Don't call me that. Can you bring up navigation?"

"Would you like me activate Harttade and bring him online to manage our navigation systems?"

I sigh. "Yeah, call him up. I think we should be able to get back online now and replot the course."

"Affirmative. Replotting."

Moments later the doors open and Hart blusters in. "Waking sleeping robots. What in the nine-voids has this universe come to? Will I ever reach full charge capacity again?"

I ignore him, instead focusing on bringing the ship about. "Elixr? Do we have a course?"

"Affirmative November-One-Alpha-Four. Course set for Nar. Seventeen jumps and twenty-four factors to destination."

"What does that mean?" Wish asks.

Hart sighs. "Nearly home. Did you uncover the message?"

I turn to Hart. "Not yet."

Wish leans forward in her chair. "What are 'jumps'?"

"The ship is fitted with a jump drive, it is the most efficient way to travel great distances," I tell her, then turn back to Hart, "And it uses both a lot of power and a lot of processor, right?"

"Of course. It's a jump drive." Two lines above his eye orbs tip down as if he's considering how stupid I must be.

"Bear with me." I turn back to the walls, looking up at them as if facing the disembodied voice that is the ship's verbal response unit. "Elixr, initiate return course but do not activate the jump drive."

"Calculating. Return trip will take five million, three hundred and twenty-three thousand, eight hundred and sixty-nine point two five narcycles without jump drive."

"I know, we're not going to never use it, I just want to make sure as many processors are online as possible and test the power capacity of the ship before we use the jump drive."

There's a soft hum from Hart as he mutters. "Girl clone baby telling me how to fly my own ship as if I'm not a state-of-the-art telemetry unit whose whole purpose is to fly the ship. Even my own captain let me fly the ship the way I'm supposed to fly the ship." His muttering continues so I reach a hand out to him.

"Sorry Hart, can you take it from here?"

His head perks up and his eyes blink. "Affirmative! Elixr, transfer navigation controls."

"Navigation transferred to hybrid autonomous research, telemetry, teleportation, and defence engine."

Hart raises his hands, taking the invisible wheel again. The shift as the ship accelerates and turns creates a slight rock within the room and I remember the inertial dampeners are still not at capacity. Suddenly, I'm very thankful we're not using the jump drive because without those dampeners the creation of the slipstream could have been very, very messy. Not to mention, reminding me to check that the shields will be capable of sustaining warp. "Easy does it okay, Hart? I'll get us up and running at best capacity soon but for now keep her light and steady."

He nods his head and wanders back through the door and down the corridor, steering the ship the whole way with a happy hum and a trail of pink tendrils in his jet stream.

I turn back to the fabricator. There's more I could do with the processors on the next level but Wish is still lingering. She's been trolling through the database at a nearby workstation. I imagine she must be pretty bored, so I decide to first focus on creating something to help us translate the static.

"Let's get you some static to translate." I smile and she nods, coming to join me at the fabricator.

After fabricating the tools I need, I find it easier and easier to understand how to manipulate the program and manufacture a device that can record, filter, process, and relay the static. When it's crafted, it looks a bit like a ham radio. I wonder how I know to think of its shape like that or what name to call it. It's strange to have these old memories that are clear and not clear at the same time. It's like looking through a foggy window but knowing with certainty what's on the other side.

"So, what will this do?" Wish asks.

"Okay, so first it will record the output from the unit. You plug it in directly so that rather than recording the garbled version we're hearing, it will receive a true transfer from the system directly."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Like plugging a speaker into a mic jack?"

I glance up at her and furrow my brow. "What?"

"Music?"

"I don't know, do sound systems work that way?"

Wish shrugs.

"Anyway, the device will unpack the files and run a series of tweaks over things so that eventually it should filter down to better and better quality."

"Tweaks?"

"What? Do you want me to get all fancy and technical? It's high-tech. Just go with me, okay? Basically, it makes the bad sound good. But it takes time and requires monitoring so that you can micro-adjust as it makes changes. You let it know when its changes are good and when the quality gets worse, you adjust."

"Oh, okay. So, I listen, tweak, and eventually we get good audio." She winks, straddling her chair. I roll my eyes and chuckle.

"Right, just get to work already, would you? I'm going to go downstairs and get those other processors back online. I'll be back in a bit."

It takes about four factors to deal with the processors but since Wish doesn't ping my tablet, I figure she's either fallen asleep in her chair or wandered off to continue exploring the ship now Hart is happily ensconced on the bridge. Or maybe she's still processing the audio.

I run a final diagnostic on the now functioning processors. Most are running at full capacity again. The shields are secure and their scripts function with precise calculations to minimise power consumption, which is actually pretty impressive from a programming perspective. I grin, feeling an odd sense of pride that I don't understand since I didn't have any part in the ship's original design. There are some remaining kinks in the processing speed, signs of age perhaps, not to mention the processor I left offline because of the virus, but the remaining systems are running the best they'll be without doing a major overhaul. I pat the last unit and stretch my back. I run one last check over power; it's smooth, even, and well balanced. "As good as it's going to get. Elixr?"

"Yes nine-alpha-one-four."

I grimace. "Would you please call me Niah?"

"Yes, Niah."

"We're up to capacity so I think it's safe to raise the inertial dampener levels, activate the warp shield, and incorporate those jumps into our navigation now. Can you let Hart know?"

"Affirmative."

She falls silent again so I assume it's happening and head back up to the lab.

As I walk through the door, I see Wish leaning close to the unit, her eyes fixed on the device and ears covered in a headset.

"Where did you get that?"

She doesn't respond and I realise she probably can't hear me. I step close and lift an earpiece from her ear. She startles back, almost falling from her chair with a gasp.

"Eagrim's beak! You scared me." She blinks then looks confused. "I think eagrims are some sort of bird, but they don't even have beaks. It's so weird having fragments of memory that aren't even mine."

I nod because I've felt the same strange sense, as if my brain holds two minds instead of one.

"Did you get anywhere?"

"Actually, yeah. Listen!" She taps a few of the keys on the interface on her desk and a soft whooshing noise fills the room. I glance down and realise she's hooked the radio up to the main computer.

A rich, warm voice breaks through the hissing static. It's eerily familiar and yet strangely alien. "They're losing control! Mayday! The Elixr has been sabotaged, the crew is in mutiny. They're losing control." The static arcs up again and the next section of the recording is lost but then it resumes. "–in my room. The cure is secure. I have hidden a data record that contains the fundamental structure required for fabrication in my own quarters. But I fear it is not safe. I feel myself slipping away. Just like the others, it starts with headaches and sickness. Disequilibrium. I am infected and I fear I may succumb. To ensure the safety of our mission, I have inserted a priority status statement into Harttade and programmed Elixr to follow the base command to return home. I can no longer restore Nar myself. I cannot allow this sickness to infect our home." His voice pauses for a long moment. "Forgive me. You are our only hope. There was no other choice." And then the voice fades and the static returns.

I swallow, then release a slow, shuddered sigh and glance over at Wish. She's watching me so closely as if waiting for me to say something, but I don't know how to respond. A lot of the message didn't make sense but the dread in the pit of my stomach is very, very real.

"Baull-scat," I say and she nods.

"Yeah."

***

Niah

"So, the cure is in that locker, right?"

"The plans for it at least. That's what it sounds like."

"And Hart said that we're supposed to have something to do with the cure. At least you are."

"Hart doesn't seem to know much of anything. If he does have a primary mission protocol–" I fall silent and Wish nods beside me.

"Something has screwballed his memory and prevents him from being able to access it."

"Or he won't tell us." I pace the room, circling the fabrication unit in the middle. "Look," I say. "I got most of the processors online and we're back on track. Let's just see how it plays out when we get there."

Wish shakes her head. "Niah, I have to tell you something but I don't want you to freak out. I'm freaked out enough for both of us."

"What is it?"

"Well, before I started tinkering with the static, you know, while you were getting the sublight and navigation back up so we could at least get moving? Anyway, I was going over some of the old archives in the main database. There are records dating back hundreds of narcycles. It talks about the original fleet that set out on this quest, this mission we're on, to save Nar."

I feel that pit in my stomach again and bite my lip. Then, taking a breath, I cross to sit in the chair beside her. It's probably best I sit down for this.

"Yes?"

"So, Captain Bellamy and the crew of the Elixr took off from Nar over two hundred narcycles ago with a fleet of seven ships. They were sent to a long distant sector of the galaxy in search of what they called the Cure of Shadows. Apparently some professor, like Bellamy's dad or brother or something, invented a tech that poisoned the planet. I think it's a bit like radiation, except it affected the way light refracts or something. I don't really get it."

I listened carefully, trying to pick out the most important aspects of what Wish was saying. The story tumbled out of her in a rush.

"Anyway," Wish continued, "Captain Bellamy – his name was Jacob and he sounds pretty amazing – well, he was sent out to bring back something to fix it. The professor stayed behind to do what he could to protect what was left of the planet but the records don't really say much about that. I guess because the ships left so they don't know what happened." She pauses to breathe, then gazes across at me. "Say something."

"Processing." I say, mimicking Elixr. Wish laughs but continues to watch me, waiting. "No really," I say, "it's just a bit mind blowing. So, okay. If we put that together with what Captain Bellamy said in his recording we can say they must have reached their destination and found the 'cure'?" Wish nods. "But then something happened that made the crew and everyone…"

I trail off because, although I don't know exactly what happened to them, it's not hard to guess that they must be dead. We haven't seen any bodies, but the crew quarters had been trashed. There were traces of blood and damage.

Wish dips her head, looking at her hands. She's twisting her fingers in her lap. She whispers, "He jettisoned them."

I swallow, not sure I want to believe it. "What?"

"The ship logged it. Shortly after the timestamp of that audio there is a ship-wide vacuum to space. Even his own quarters. I think that's what he meant, you know, about being sorry."

"But he said, 'You are our only hope.' As if he was sorry for putting the burden on someone else."

Wish slides a dial and pushes a button. Captain Bellamy's voice fills the room again. "Forgive me." And I feel the pause in his words. "You are our only hope." Pause. "There was no other choice."

Wish switches it off again. "Three distinct statements, Niah. I think he's apologising for a lot more than that."

I nod. "We need to find out the whole story."

She nods in agreement. "We need to open that locker. Maybe there's more on that data unit."

"We'll go get it together when Hart returns to his charging station tonight."

She nods again. "Okay, tonight."