The passageway beckoned him.

Urle had always known the conditions of space life; halls and rooms and bulkheads. He’d grown up on an eclectic science colony in orbit around Mars, and even after leaving Phobos he had only lived on other stations and served on ships.

Very rarely had he felt these conditions to be too confining. This was one of those rare times.

Gohhi station was out there, and while it was perfectly fine in all rules and regulations for him to walk down there and out into Gohhi proper . . . he hesitated, like a child about to break a rule.

He hated that he felt this way; both the desire to go and his hesitation in doing it.

He was a man, an officer, and more machine than flesh by now. And what he wanted to do was not technically illegal, but was frowned upon.

Taking a moment, he took a deep breath. It was a golden opportunity to get some upgrades. His daughters had just left Sol with the rest of the children of the Craton to rendezvous with them, and would take nearly a week to arrive. So he’d have time to recuperate.

And the rules governing such upgrades required certain safe practices to prevent unauthorized access to his classified data and to keep out spyware. Such things were a great danger for anyone as machine as he was, and one reason to avoid all upgrades outside of the Sapient Union . . .

But sometimes there was some pretty interesting stuff out there. And he knew his personal defenses would fulfill all security requirements.

Which made it technically within the rules, if clearly outside their spirit.

He made up his mind. Steeling himself, he marched onto Gohhi, telling himself that this was simply a good opportunity, that he wasn’t going to get an upgrade just as stress relief.

Others did dumb things to deal with their stress, but not him. His augments were not crutches, but simply the best way to improve himself at this point.

The Craton‘s docking tube was long, and after the initial section he mingled with others in the debarking area. Hundreds of people were coming and going onto the ship, and it would take time to sort through and check all arrivals as well as check out each crew member who was leaving.

The line moved swiftly, as efficiently as it could on such scales, but he still felt antsy, itchy almost, to just get out there. The Craton felt too small now, and only getting lost in the vastness of a station like Gohhi Main would alleviate his mood.

Passing through clearance, he got onto the tram that took him the last two hundred meters to the station proper. His system switched to Privacy Mode as he went, as was the norm on Gohhi. No one saw who you were just at a glance, nor could you see much about them.

There was little in the way of fanfare besides a scan that tried to tailor ads to his interests – because of course the advertisers did everything to violate your privacy. He sent out a packet of false data that would cause the system to judge him not worth the bother, and moved into the crowds.

He walked into the massive crowd, none of the people sparing him a second glance. A transhuman cyborg was not an unusual sight here, uncounted numbers of them had come to live in Gohhi. So long as you didn’t bother others, no one cared what you did here.

Everyone moved fast and it felt good to stretch his legs. Gohhi Main was the largest trade hub in the territory, so most people were here for a reason – and they all wanted to get it over with and get out.

Someone fell into step beside him. For a moment he thought it was merely coincidence, but the man matched his strides, and turned even as he did.

Looking to face him, his system scanned the face, trying to match it against the databases he had on hand, but got nothing. No returns at all. His hackles rose.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I am Kell,” the man said.

And Urle realized that his severe unease that had appeared as the man did was much the same feeling as he typically felt around the Ambassador.

“Really?” he demanded. “Tell me something only Kell would know.”

The being just stared at him, judgingly, and Urle realized that it was, indeed, Kell.

“Sorry, you startled me. What are you doing here, Ambassador?”

“I am walking with you. Though to be honest I assumed your technology would inform you of my identity even if I appeared different.”

“You do have a system, yes? Did it go into Privacy Mode?”

Kell looked thoughtful. “I believe it displayed those words.”

“We’re on Gohhi Station, and they have a completely different set of standards for data sharing – they like their privacy.”

“I can understand that,” Kell said.

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

“The point is that I can’t just look at you or anyone and know all about them,” Urle continued.

He tried to phrase his next question carefully. “Why is it you are accompanying me?” he asked.

“Is a reason necessary?” Kell retorted.

“I suppose not, you’re free to do what you like. But if you want to come with me, then you could at least tell me what you want.”

“I wish to walk with you,” Kell said.

Urle sighed. “All right. I’m on personal business, though. So it might be boring to you.”

“I can possess myself of patience,” Kell said, seeming almost amused. “What is your personal business?” Kell seemed to consider, then added; “If you do not mind sharing.”

It was surprisingly thoughtful from the being.

“I suppose I don’t mind. I’m going to look into upgrades.”

“For your machine parts?”

“Yes, that’s right. There’s a thriving market for such parts – and a lot of transhuman people like myself.”

“I have heard them referred to as augsons or augs,” Kell noted.

“Officially we’re referred to as augsons, yes. It’s short for Augmented Persons. Aug is just a nickname.”

“I see. I would be curious to see more of them.”

“Bear in mind,” Urle said, “that they’re not always friendly to people who aren’t – well, who they think aren’t augs.”

Kell looked amused. “I promise not to hurt them.”

----------------------------------------

“Dad, where are we going?” Elliot asked.

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question, and Iago couldn’t force another reassuring smile as he replied.

“Somewhere else.”

Their bags were packed, only the essentials. Most things they’d have to get again, but that was fine.

Going out of the ship, he felt all the eyes on him and his son. They knew.

At any moment he’d been waiting for the Response team to come out.

For Pirra to betray him, to arrest him, take his son away and lock him up, to rot where they’d . . .

The thought faded.

No Response Team had appeared, but he didn’t let his guard down. So they wouldn’t be open about it, he thought, as they merged onto Gohhi proper. Thousands of beings from just as many systems, of all species imaginable were hurrying on their way. None cared about a lone human male and his son.

They’d get lodgings and then . . .

He didn’t know what. He hadn’t planned that far ahead.

Looking around, he felt that somehow he’d drawn attention to them. A group of Sepht were watching him, signalling to each other with shifting colors on their skin. He couldn’t understand the words, but he knew they had to be watching him. They were Sepht, of course they were in the Sapient Union, they were spies.

Bad spies, just standing in the open, but they were watching him.

So it’d be a precise strike, he thought. A team would come for him, break down the door, perhaps just shoot him down and make it look like a robbery.

He fingered the grip of the sidearm he’d smuggled off. They’d find the evidence in the system soon, but he’d felt confident that he’d hidden his tracks well enough that it’d be when the system ran its shift-change security checks that it was discovered. He still had three hours.

He planned out the fake rooms he’d rent, the accommodations he’d already made, the people on Gohhi he’d paid off to smudge his trail. It would just buy time, that was all he needed.

And money, he realized. His ex was all digital, as were all SU credits. But he’d need something accepted on Gohhi.

They were still near enough to the ship. Stopping at a money console, he accessed his account and transferred all of his ex to External Trade Credits.

How had he not thought of this sooner? This was sloppy. They’d note this for sure. They’d know what he was doing.

Well, he thought, they had no doubt anyway.

“Dad,” Elliot said insistently, and he realized the boy had been tugging his shirt. “Why are we leaving, Dad?”

Something suddenly hurt inside. Iago was shocked at the feeling, realizing just how numb he’d become. This pain felt real, fresh, and it burned.

He looked at his son, feeling his jaw and eye twitch, seeing the hurt on the face of his boy.

“We’ve just got to leave the ship, Elliot,” he said, kneeling down. “I’m sorry. I know it’s . . . difficult. Something changed, and . . . we just have to go.”

“It’s because of Terris, isn’t it?” Elliot asked.

Iago’s blood ran cold.

“How do you know about that?”

Everyone had changed around him when he’d seen the things there. His superiors, Kai and Brooks. Even his closest friends, like Pirra and Alexander.

He’d known that. But . . .

Had Elliot changed, too?

“You talk about it in your sleep. Every night, Dad. Sometimes you’re even awake and you just say stuff,” Elliot said.

He saw the fear on his son’s face.

No. No, no, no nonono. His son was still his son. He hadn’t changed. Because if he had, what was any of this for?

He held desperately to that thought. “Yes, it was at Terris. I saw something . . . and I learned something that I shouldn’t have learned. I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry it has hurt you. But this is our only choice.”

“Why?” Elliot insisted. “Why can’t we just talk to the Captain about it? I’m sure he-“

“NO!” Iago roared.

Elliot cringed back. Several beings nearby stopped, looking at him with surprise. But their interest faded, and he saw that Elliot was not cowed. If anything, he looked more determined.

God he was proud of him. He felt so weak and useless. If not for Elliot, then he’d be nothing now. He’d let them take him, because he’d be worth nothing, not even to himself.

But at least his son would be better than him.

“What did you learn, Dad?” Elliot asked.

The words had some power of compulsion. Iago knew he couldn’t tell the boy – both that it was a terrible idea, and that words simply could not convey it all.

But he found words pouring from his mouth all the same.

“All of it is a lie,” he said, his mouth moving, making sound of its own accord. He could not stop it. “The reality we know is just a dream . . . a dream of a dream, a . . . hallucination . . . The truth has so many facets, so many angles I can’t believe I ever even believed all of it. It’s just hollow. This station, the ships, every item, even us. We are just dots on a flat sheet in a universe with more dimensions than we ever thought possible. Don’t you see? There’s no point to it unless we unlock the reality! We have to get higher, become more, or there’s no point to any of this!”

He was screaming. Ranting, but-

No he wasn’t. He realized that he had not said a word.

His mouth had never even opened.

Elliot was still looking at him, determined, scared, and wanting to do right.

“Dad! Are you all right?”

He was on the floor now. Shaking.

Elliot had his hand, and Iago was watching it shake wildly.

“I’m fine!” he said forcefully.

He didn’t remember standing up, but he was.

The kiosk nearby beeped.

His transfer was complete.

Stumbling over, his body still feeling weak, as if he might have another seizure, he leaned heavily against the kiosk and looked at the figure on the screen. It was correct – all his substantial savings had been converted to external trade credits he could use anywhere in the known galaxy.

But there was a note as well. It was added by the system of the Craton.

Cautiously, hoping that it was from the mysterious person who had contacted him before, he read it.

“Iago,

I know you need to go. Contact me once you feel safe. I will do anything I can to help you.”

It was signed Ian Brooks.

Stepping away, he realized he felt so numb that he could barely tell his feet were touching the station’s deck.

“Let’s go,” he said hoarsely to Elliot.