I remember now, everything I forgot. I remember what I saw there. An abomination was in the archive, something I've never seen or heard of before. It corrupted, or absorbed, or... ate everything in its path. It tried to take me, but it couldn't. My implants died. It couldn't eat my brain; I had too many real neurons in my skull. But it ate the Hunter-Killers. It ate all those spambots and VIs and AIs. It ate Ambrose. It ate Alex... And it wore him like a meatsuit.

And I broke the meatsuit it was puppeteering. Alex. I remember. I wish I didn't...

I remember. I used my CE Key. I only had a moment, as it was eating my implants. It was desperate, quick, simple; a shutdown command. Lock the archive down. I did it to try to cut off whatever the hell the thing was... whatever Communion was, from its controller. But it didn't have a controller. It wasn't an avatar for something, it was the something. I couldn't fight it at all. However the hell it got inside, it couldn't get out with all the gates shutdown. And it wanted out. It wanted more.

But I smashed the entire fucking Archive. I wish I nuked the whole thing from orbit. I wish I had gone up with it.

***

I remember the fallout. Alex was nearly dead, Ambrose missing and presumed dead, the archive wrecked. And my CE Key was used to lock it down. And of course, I was the one who smashed Alex and the archive with a spanner. I remember weeks of meetings and depositions, going over the details. With my attorney, with my union representative, with my superiors. I tell them everything I remember, which is pretty much everything until the archive went dark. And everything after waking up, when Alex attacked me.

I mention the missing time, but I don't remember Communion. I don't remember it being in my head, or what it represented. Whatever it was doing in my implants, I didn't retain it. I'm a little glad; the story in that chaotic living code would not go over well in a report. I'm not sure they'd think I was sane. I wonder if I am.

The precinct couldn't pull anything useful from the remains of the archive, and almost nothing from my augment logs. Two had to be replaced entirely. I was out on medical leave for six weeks before returning. But even after returning, there was distance between me and my colleagues. The cop who beat her partner half to death. Who also locked down and smashed the archive. All having to do with a mysterious body-jacking incident, with no suspects. People make assumptions.

It looked like my career was effectively over. Even when I return to duty, the dark cloud of the incident follows me. I'm an unspoken pariah, and everyone is certain the department is just building an airtight case to terminate me. But after a few weeks, all of the red tape vanishes. The endless interrogatories from the Board of Review stop coming, the 'clarification requests' from above cease popping up in silver. Even my final deposition is cancelled.

I thought maybe it became redundant, once Alex was 'healed' and gave his own fragmented testimony. He remembered less than I did, but he at least confirmed the body-jacking. I thought maybe the district was just trying to avoid bad optics, with a blue-on-blue incident. Now, I'm thinking something else. I'm thinking someone became aware of Communion and decided not to draw attention to it.

Communion. It happened so fast, it was so alien; I still barely remember it. It seemed to take so much longer than a few seconds. Was it real? Yeah, it has to be real. That's why Rabi's interested. That's why she's here.

Consciousness is slowly returning. I'm lying on the hard carbon-composite floor. The blurry patch in my vision slowly begins to resolve into an outline of a woman. With half her head encased in augments. Ah. I'm laying down in Cartwright's office, looking up at Rabi.

My head rests in her lap, laid on her crossed thighs. The fingers of her left hand softly stroke my right cheek, the right hand petting my hair. It's more than unsettling; I'd rather be back in the memory. Well, almost.

"Do you understand?" Rabi asks, tilting her head.

What's to understand, you twisted fucking wirehead? You just mind-raped me! You sick, sadistic, void-sucking bitch!

Except I do understand. And the raging fury in my belly seems moot somehow. Almost removed from the situation. Oh, I should be pissed. But Rabi knows what Communion is. She's the one person on the station, maybe the one person anywhere, that I can ask.

"You said I'm the courier. I brought... myself here?" I ask, meeting her eyes.

She nods. "Your implant. Two of your nodes were not replaced after the incident with Communion, and retained code left behind by contact with it. A physical sample was ideal, and it needed to be contained. The clandestine transportation required secrecy, especially secrecy from the courier," she says quickly, as I struggle to keep up

Ok, you needed me to bring it here discretely. And I couldn't give away a secret I don't know. But here? "You needed it brought... to Ursa Miner Station? The same station I was heading to?"

She shakes her head. "Any Jovian or Kuiper station with a forensics suite and a class 3 radio-telescope array would have been sufficient."

But I liked the wordplay. "You knew where I'd go. So you were waiting before I even set out," I muse. I blink a few times. "Wait, radio-telescope?"

Suddenly, my breath catches in my throat. I keep hearing about the telescope.

The Tachi Space Telescope is yellow-lined for repairs following an anomalous data-burst.

Lemming was an Indy contractor hired to parse and analyze datasets off the Tachi Telescope array.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I got a flag of contact from Lemming's ID in the Astronomy division.

It's here.

"You knew. You knew it would be here, on this station specifically..." I murmur. My blood runs cold. And Communion was here before I was. But after Rabi. She knew it was coming... It's alien, and it's digital... Which means...

She pats my hair gently. "Of course. I pointed the telescope at Andromeda. The transmission source." She's smiling down at me as she says it, and her fingers run through my hair.

So, she knows what this is and where it comes from. She knows it's alien. Think it through, Mel. Think like a cop; break it down.

If this thing is beamed along a signal, then it was, what, a digital entity? It was literally downloaded by the radio-telescope? Or something in the data that the telescope recorded spawned it? Damn, that's how it got into the Luna archive! The archive is where telemetry from Luna's radio-telescope array is dumped. So, there turns out to be alien malware compressed in the data. Probably became active when the data was read and analyzed...

Oh fuck. It's a good thing I locked down and smashed the archive! And so now... what, something in the reports and depositions gets Rabi's attention; now she wants to study it? The body-jacking of a Code Enforcement officer would get some scrutiny from someone like her. She wants a live sample, so what is she to do? Get one from the officer who survived it. And now?

She's deliberately infecting the station. Why a Jovian or Kuiper station? Small numbers of occupants, physically isolated. Aging hardware, unimportant personnel. Won't be missed much if lost. Ah, the station is expendable, as is everyone on it. It's the Dark District; nobody will kick up a fuss. You're as cold as the fucking void, Captain Gupta.

You wanted it here. You wanted a small, self-contained petri dish... Because you're observing it, testing it...

I shake my head. "But why? And if you have my implant, what else do you need from me?"

Rabi smiles, and her palm rests above my chest, three fingers touching my heart. "Antibody."

Hah. You're making a 'cure' for Communion. But if this thing eats hardware and synths and augments too deeply plugged in... then you would need...

"You need someone trained in Code Enforcement protocols, who understands the enemy and the stakes, who would be motivated to fight it. Who has implants and could drop in first-person to take the fight to Communion, but who doesn't have any of the control suites or physical augmentations that would let it puppeteer me in meatspace." Starless skies, I was tailor made for this mission.

She nods, waving her hand. Get on with it.

I can fight it and survive. Unlike you, Rabi. That's the big irony, isn't it? It would eat you for breakfast. I bet you can whip up a task force of First Precinct's best supersapient AIs and genius level wireheads and savant-grade augments, but they'd be a buffet for Communion. Your tech lets you think circles around us cockroaches, but it's a vulnerability. You fucking need us. You need me.

Well, might as well ask. "How do you know I won't blow the whistle on you?"

Her fingers stroke my cheek. "To whom?"

Good point. My credibility with Cartwright is out the airlock. Maybe go over his head... crap.

"I'm assuming any complaints I make higher up in Third-Precinct-"

"-would result in a jurisdictional challenge by Earth, in which my actions would be approved under the doctrine of 'operational necessity' by First-Precinct, which retains jurisdiction over this matter."

So First Precinct is involved. I'm double screwed, with Cartwright gone and you as ranking officer.

I take a few deep breaths. Ok, so you predicted everything perfectly. So what else are you responsible for in the past week or so? I think for a moment. Well, someone with a Code Enforcement handshake protocol did try to kill Sparrow...

"Are you the one who tried to blow up my eyebot in the docks?" I ask, feeling the anger bubbling up again.

She grins and giggles. "Nope nope!" Well, she could be lying, but...

"Do you know who did? Or why?" I ask, gritting my teeth.

Rabi must have been waiting for this question, because she's almost bouncing, making my head rock. "Yup yup! It was Officer Rusteater. And it's because Rusteater's a terrorist!"

"Wait... What?!" Rusteaster? A synth cop terrorist? On this station? What a vacuum-sucking mess! "They're a Code Enforcement officer and a terrorist?"

"Yup yup! So's your girlfriend!" Rabi's smile flashes wide.

My mouth falls open. "Sparrow... is a terrorist?" My mind races. "Are you... this isn't a joke, is it?" I ask, and Rabi giggles again and shakes her head. Sparrow. Rusteater was her handler when she was a CI. So, what, he recruits her as a terrorist? Or was she a terrorist already, and this was her cover? She needs authorization to tell me. Because she might blow Rusteater's cover if I connect the dots.

Rabi gives me a sympathetic look. "Officer Rusteater was attempting to tie up some loose ends, including the Chimera's Captain. They hacked your eyebot to make the explosion appear accidental at first glance. If analyzed in detail, they hoped it would appear as if you yourself weaponized the eyebot, framing you for the crime. An obvious choice, to blame the new and untrusted officer."

My blood runs cold. I'm real glad I set that motion alert for the eyebot. "And when I chased them down, they suicided rather than give away their identity. Which means the Rusteater I've been talking with is either a backup or emulation, loaded into their chassis," I ponder.

Rabi pats my cheek. Ugh. "Oh, it's a backup. It's a neat trick for a Synth, but it cost them lots. They lost all their active memory since their last backup, and each reload degrades them. That's why they don't like you. That, and your transfer here is a complication for them," she says with a grin.

Well, nice of you to put it together for me. But hang on... "Wait, did Sparrow steal the medical nanos? Or did Rusteater?"

"Neither! I did," she says, giving me a smile.

"You?" The hell? Wait, that's right! Cartwright said First Precinct retains jurisdiction because- "you spoofed an Earth Admin ID?"

"Nope nope! I used my own secure ID. You didn't think I was really only a CE Captain, did you?" She asks, frowning and seeming wounded. "I have over a dozen IDs, and ranks, within a lot of agencies. All legit, not doctored. It's a lot easier when you don't sleep... and can literally do a dozen things at once," she adds.

Well, Brent, you were spot on about her not sleeping. "So..."

"So I used my Systems Analytics ID! Honestly, the latest tech in my head should make me the obvious suspect for a culprit with an Earth ID. It didn't tip you off, Lieutenant? I had hoped for a little better from you," she says in a chiding tone.

I grunt. "Sorry to disappoint, Captain. It's been a stressful couple of days."

She nods, giving me a shrug. "Well, it's not likely to get much easier. Since you're being recruited. Welcome to the mission!"

She reaches behind her back and pulls out a syringe. I can see the silver-grey suspension of medical nanites in saline. My heart skips a beat.

"You've got to be-"

The syringe plunges smoothly into my neck, held steady in Rabi's deft hand. I feel the sense of pressure, then heat.

Ugh, Rabi, your recruitment method sucks hard vacuum. You could at least have dangled a signing bonus in front of me. You didn't even offer to reimburse my transportation costs...

I feel consciousness ebbing as the nanites begin to interface with my implants. Rabi's fingers stroke my cheek again, and she leans over me, lips close to my ear. "Just between us? That first day? I totally was flirting with you," she whispers.

Hah. I fucking knew it.

***