The door behind Kora had not even fully closed when Rerra's pad chimed and activated in speaker mode. "Hello Rerra, I am not sure what has happened but it must have been something grave as I am in Lenny's computer. So this is how it feels to be restored from a backup. Strange, maybe you would feel like in the wrong body. I am still accessing the state of the subsystems and the net is a mess with will take some time to entangle. But to the business: Of all the cats with have authorisation, your pad was the only active one on the station. But I have no authority in the clinic, so the net is now only working for you or we could not speak."

"Bernie, so it worked!"

"Yes, and I am happy to be running. I am not sure how and who did it."

"We did it. Marik had a backup of an AI and a program to overcome the WORM error."

"Whoever Marik is, I am grateful. But please stop spreading this forbidden knowledge or we all could get into deep trouble. Since you are now in charge, what are your instructions?"

"My instructions?"

Only then, she seemed to realise that everybody was staring at her.

"Restore everything to working order. Fanny of Fiyul from Ketcher and Trina from Samul are on the planet. Contact them. I think they may work together."

Only Roberta, the old Samul ex-pilot nodded enthusiastically.

"No, Rerra, you hold the authority and must properly transfer it to a cat next to you. I will be executing the orders but the decisions are to be made by cats as long as there is still one with authorisation left. These are my core directives, and after your stunt with the backup, I am not sure these could ever altered again. As to the other tasks, I would suggest stabilising the power first, getting the regular fusion cores 4-22 up as quickly as possible and then restoring power, circulation, water and heating in that order. After core 6 is up, the power should be sufficient to boot up the net all over the stations. ETA is 1159. So, Stationmother Rerra of Codeson from Petra, is this ok with you?"

Kira stared at Rerra, snout agape, while Roberta started to laugh. Rerra, his Rerra, now suddenly the Queen of this station. He gulped.

Rerra looked forlorn at him, then sighed. "Bernie, can you put me through to Trina?"

"Please wait, the link to the planet is not stable yet. Any other orders?"

"How is docking?"

There was a short delay. "The flight control room is not working. The sensor network is not damaged. I could improvise some flight and docking control for the time being. You can delegate. Nominate someone who will be in charge of docking and flight operations."

She turned to Roberta, who stood still and looked serious again. "I?" The fur stood up on the back of the old cat and she tried to shrink which of course was not working. Even less since Rerra was the shortest cat in the room.

"You are the only pilot who is here."

"But, you know, I am not good with, with people," she whispered the last words.

"Flight control is not much about social interaction." Even he grinned at Rerra's dry remark. "And you can transfer this to any other trustworthy cat. But you I trust. Bernie, authorise Roberta of"

"of Kranet from Samul", Roberta whispered.

"Hello Roberta, great, another well-known voice. Please autorise your pad and then give a code which you could share."

"Can you pay her a salary?" Rerra added.

"Of course. I suggest paying the previously negotiated rate for the head of fight operations. That was 520 per day."

Everybody froze for a moment.

The old cat had a hand on the wall, breathing heavily while her tails lashed out aimlessly. "So much more," she whispered.

"Can you make me also head of the clinic?" Kira asked mockingly.

But the AI replied. "No, but Rerra could appoint a technical liaison who holds the Ketcher part of authority over me. However, there are four former liaisons still on the station, so I would advise Rerra to rather follow the suggestions of Cassandra, the Clinic AI."

"She has a name?", the doctor exclaimed. "She never told me."

"I have a name, yes." This time the voice came from everywhere. It sounded female. "I do not like it. In human mythology, it was the name of a bringer of bad news. Also, in the old days, the doctors never used their real names, and also the patient names were pseudonyms. I uphold that tradition. Kira of Ulta from Ketcher, you are a good doctor but unlike to be a good technical liaison. So, Kira of Ulta from Ketcher, I will increase your salary by 5 per day, if my name is never mentioned again. And Bernie will pay for it."

"Sorry. I am still booting up." Now also the station AI came from the speakers.

"Bernie, you are speaking too much for your own good. You must be nearly as good as before." The previously neutral voice of the Ketcher AI now carried a hint of amusement. "But I leave the station business to you." There was an audible noise as if the clinic AI unplugged a mike.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

No one said something for quite some time, not even the station AI.

He picked up the cold and squishy gratin which tasted a little metallic and salty, closer to blood than anything else.

The big silver-furred Roberta and Rerra still stared into nowhere. "Rerra?"

She blinked then turned to him and sighed.

"Why so gloomy? Most people would kill for your position?"

"They just had, remember?" she hissed. "Anybody out there will try to get the best of me. Samul"

"Don't be stupid. This is your chance to change this. You said so many bad things about cats. So do better! You are fed up, with the heritage system? Change the rules."

That got her thinking. "How is it done on Fallerian?"

He hesitated, that system was special. "Every year the 8 best are called to the council for five years. There will be one from the food guild, one from the administration, one from the workers, and one from the medical guild. The rest are selected by a competition. You can only serve once."

"That won't work here," the silent Roberta said.

"Bernie, could I do this?" Rerra asked, ignoring her remark.

"You can certainly authorise a council. Ketcher is run by a council. Maybe"

"We have no say," interrupted Kira.

"She is right," the Ketcher AI confirmed. "the low tiers have no say, there is no equal vote in Ketcher, and never has been. For none of the clans. History is my hobby, should you wonder. However, many human stations are run by something similar to a council with its members determined by popular vote. If I had to suggest something for us, I would say a council of eight where each of the eight sectors votes for their council member. That council then appoints a speaker with equal voting power. So they are nine in total, to break ties. Given your typical lifespan, one term could be 1000 or 1500 days. And term limits have proven useful. This means, only allow serving once or twice per lifetime."

"You have thought that through." the station AI commented.

"As said, history is my hobby, and analysing cats is my profession."

His Rerra stared at the ceiling. "So, I can announce a vote for a council?"

He shook his head. Even to him, that sounded too easy.

"Technically, no problem. In 0978, the net is up. It would be good to have an announcement ready by then."

"We should be somewhere else by then. Let's get the ship ready." He put his hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head. "No, as Bernie said, I must be on the station to transfer the authorisation. And as you said earlier, I should try to make a change. Kora was right, I would have chickened out. I just wish that will not backfire on my tribe."

"Well, said, Rerra." It was the clinic AI. "And you are in the right place for pseudonyms. Kira, take her to 3-14. I am looking forward to the new station council."

"Yes." The doctor looked at the clinic pad next to her. "You are booked for a heavy make-up session." She shook her head and asked to the ceiling. "But, what of Torragh?"

"She is missing and her second is in an induced coma and one hardware key was destroyed during the fighting. So right now, I have no one that I am obligated to consult with. The Ketcher council also has a hardware key, but that is on the planet or they would certainly have used it by now. So I am free to help."

The Ketcher doctor was not convinced. "Sorry, it seems you are going against the clan."

"No, I am not, and neither are you. They restored my power and revived Bernie. That alone saved lives. Continuing the bipolar power distribution between Ketcher and Samul will not lead to cooperation and accelerate the decline. No, a station council will be more beneficial in the long term."

"If you say so." She sighed, took up the pad again and held the door open, this time to the other, cleaner and brighter-lit side.

He trailed Rerra and Roberta in deep thought. AI's meddling with their society? Well, there was a reason why they were heavily controlled.

* * *

They were far away from the Ketcher clinic, in a better area of the station. Despite working at the shipyard, Roberta had saved enough money from her pilot days to have bought a nice apartment. Four rooms, a dedicated kitchen.

They sat at Roberta's table each with a mug of instant Kranta soup and a small cup of an expensive cider. Roberta had taken out an old but very large pad on which a timer run down. In 0015, the AI would restore normal net operation. And with it, there would be the broadcast.

He had seen it before. They had taken five tries. In the end, Bernie, the AI, heavily edited the whole thing until it was as much the AI doing as the real recording.

Exactly at zero, the pad chimed five times for the emergency broadcast. As did the other pad in Rerra's pocket and some more in Roberta's flat. And then Rerra appeared, barely recognisable even to him. They had painted her with some brown spots. And they had filmed her from a low angle, so she looked larger and her breasts looked so much bigger (helped by the contraption she had worn). Her strong arms were almost hidden.

"Dear fellow cats, the fighting is over. We have all lost, and the station has barely survived. The monsters are dead or dying. As you probably noticed, power and circulation have been restored. Water will take longer because of the chemical processing and purging, but everyone should have water tomorrow. If you are a maintenance worker, please help. For the ones starving, Ketcher clinic has agreed to provide food for anyone showing up." The Ketcher clinic AI had written more or less the entire text, and wanted that line as early as possible. Now a cut, showing her profile as the take from another recording was used. "My name is Rerra, I worked at the shipyard when I was handed temporary authorisation from Trina of Kerta from Samul after her clanmother was murdered. Soon followed but the deletion of the two station AIs. One of the AI's could be restarted, and my authorisation was restored with it. Such a random event should not decide our leadership. Therefore, I propose to elect a council to which I will hand over my authorisation. Until midnight, you can reply to this message with a full name. It can be anyone. The only condition is that it must be someone living in your sector. Who has done the most for your community? Be it someone of Samul, Ketcher, Petra, Kumar, Setersk, or clanless, be it cat or tomcat. You can also propose yourself. But the name must be someone from the sector where the message was sent. So who do you think will be the best for you and us all? It is our future, so please send a name.

"Another good news is that docking operation has been restored. For the moment, Roberta from Samul, a retired pilot, will run the operation. A shuttle is currently prepared on the planet and will arrive in about 5000. Again, if you have worked in docking operation, security, or maintenance, please contact Bernie for further instructions.

Cut and again low from the front. "And if you run a business or a shop, consider to open as quickly as possible. You are the lifeblood of the station. Contact Bernie for repairs. Let's get this station running again. We are strong cats, we will get out of this stronger than before."

They stared at the text following the broadcast which summarized it in short and easy words. The transition was hard, even though the end had been strongly altered. Rerra had just not been able to say the final words with the grave conviction that the video had shown.

"It is done. Bernie, how many saw it?"

"About half of pad registered on the net were online and would have shown it. I will run it on any pad newly joining the net and send reminders to all non-repliers each 1000 until midnight."

"I wish Trina and Fanny would be already here," she sighed.