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Starmyst
Short Story: Tried Very Hard

Short Story: Tried Very Hard

The place had already started to smell. Konner looked about with his flashlight, illuminating the gruesome remains of one after another of the advance spelunking party—his friends.

“Stars…” he whispered.

“Master Konner? Is that you?”

Konner spun towards the synthesized voice. “Delta-3? Please tell me you’re still functional, buddy.”

“Not fully,” replied the Mechan, monotone. Delta-3’s voicebox had never been properly calibrated, keeping his words in quiet dispassion.

Konner moved to the broken body and knelt, brushing dust off the faceplate. “What happened? Was it…” he trailed off, too afraid to ask.

“Not N’zects,” said Delta-3. “Indigenous predator. Mammalian.”

“I see,” said Konner, looking about again. “You’re the only survivor. Is there anything I can do to help? Get you moving?”

“…No.” Click-click-click. The sound came from the back of Delta-3’s head—an override. “The damage is too extensive. You should leave, Master Konner. The indigenous predator may return.”

Konner clenched his jaw. “Command will want all the survey data you’ve collected so far, and whatever you know about this species.”

“Not possible. You’re too clumsy and unskilled to remove my datastores without shorting them. No offense.”

“I meant I’d carry you, you stupid tin bucket.“

Delta-3 paused. “Ill advised.”

“Yeah, well, what do you know? Your functions are totaled.”

“If you encountered the indigenous predator, you wouldn’t be able to flee in time. In addition, the climbing equipment would be difficult to—“

“I won’t just leave you here! Okay?” Konner’s voice echoed through the cavern.

Click-click-click. “Stay quiet. It’s likely the indigenous predator has well developed hearing.”

Konner huffed and looked away, hoping an answer would be close by.

“Furthermore,” said Delta-3, always even-toned, “I won’t have a spark by the time we’re returned. You should go, Master Konner. Leave and don’t look back. Every second here could be a second you need to escape.”

Ignoring the smell, Konner took a deep breath. “Nope,” he said, finally. He sat next to Delta-3. “I’m not letting you just die alone. No one should go that way.”

“I see,” said the Mechan. “I suppose regulations state that I should transfer what data I’ve collected.”

“Sure. Start talking.”

Delta-3 gave the gist of the geological data for the caverns—basic minerals, no thermal vents. For all intents and purposes, useless.

“What about the predator?” asked Konner.

Click-click-click. “We heard occasional growls and vocalizations, but they stopped after a while. We thought little of it. By the time it appeared, we hadn’t heard anything for an hour.

“A flashlight caught it. The predator was large; larger than any Fent. Bipedal, yet hunched. Hairless, white skinned, with horns, claws, a flat face, large ears and entirely black eyes. It recoiled at the light, then lunged forward and roared.”

Click-click-click. “It swiped in a wide arc through Mistress Quora. Masters Hanks, Urso and Limen opened fire. Urso and Hanks were impaled by the horns, thrown into the walls. The predator grabbed Limen, raised him to its mouth…” Click-click-click.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Urso’s blaster skidded to my feet. I picked it up and fired.”

“You’re not a combat unit,” said Konner.

“No. I had never used a blaster before. But I tried. They’re my friends, Master Konner. I tried very hard. I fired and fired. The damage was negligible; it was somehow resistant. It did drop Master Limen and charge me, however. Its horns damaged my optics, sensors, mobility, powerstores—“

“I understand.”

“…I sat and listened. There was nothing I could do but listen. The predator ate them. One after another. I had no nutritional value, and was left alone. I was left to hear… all of it. Every crunched bone. Every drop of blood and bile. Every smack of the lips. Master Limen was last. He was alive for most of it, until there was a final scream, and then he wasn’t.” Click-click-click. “If I hadn’t fired, the predator would have eaten him first. He needn’t have—“

“You can’t talk like that, 3. You did more than could’ve been expected.”

Click-click-click. “I tried, Master Konner. I tried very hard.”

“I know, buddy.”

Konner switched off his flashlight and held the Mechan’s hand. They sat in silence, the darkness overbearing. Occasionally Delta-3’s override would click on.

Konner smiled. “Remember when we all went drinking on Nolva? When Limen passed out after he threw up on Quora?”

“I do. I said she should be flattered, as the transfer of bodily fluids usually denotes affection.”

“Heh. She couldn’t tell if you were messing with her or not.”

“She caught on when I offered to add some lubricant to cement our friendship.”

He closed his eyes. “And Urso and Hanks spent the entire time trying to get that waitress to pick one of them.”

There was a bit of silence. “It’s hard to think that their remains, everything that’s left of them physically, are here with us, yet they aren’t,” said Delta-3.

Konner found himself squeezing the Mechan’s hand. “Such is life,” he sighed.

“Master Konner, do you believe you have a soul?”

He furled his brow. “Um… I like to think so.”

“I like to think I have one, as well.”

“That’s good.”

“It isn’t like the souls of organics, though. Some believe that, when organics die, their existence passes to a realm beyond the physical universe. Or perhaps their souls were always there, connected with some sort of tether between existences. As a synthetic, I exist only in the physical universe. So does my soul.”

Konner nodded. “I’ve heard the idea before. You think your Coronacon is your soul, right?”

“It’s a growing belief. The Mystics claim that the crystals are tied to the Starmyst. That may or may not be true, but it is the only part of me that isn’t fully understood by science. No part in my programming dictates that I should have desires, fears, emotions… yet I have them. The only place they could come from is the crystal, or so the idea goes.”

“Sounds logical,” said Konner. “But are spiritual matters supposed to be logical?”

“Maybe not for organics,” said Delta-3, “but for synthetics, yes.”

“Fair enough.”

”Master Konner, would you take my crystal with you?”

He blinked. “What, so I can’t be trusted with your old datastores, but you’re giving me free reign over your syntho-soul?” The words came out harsher than he expected.

“I doubt you’ll be able to damage the crystal. Damage to the surrounding inputs and outputs is irrelevant, as I’ll stop functioning once the crystal’s removed. My next life will be whatever platform it’s installed in. My existence is entirely in the physical, life after life, and I’d… I’d like to continue my existence with you. I think that’d be good.”

Konner was quiet. Technically, Delta-3 was the property of their employer, “soul” and all. There was no guarantee what the corporation would do with any salvage.

“Master Konner?”

But he didn’t have to tell them anything. “I’ll do it. Tell me how.”

It was explained, and Konner followed the instructions. Delta-3’s damaged chest plate was pried off, revealing a mess of inner workings surrounding a faintly glowing crystal.

“And… I just remove it, right?” asked Konner.

“Yes.”

Konner waited for a follow-up. “Is there anything you’d like to… like, something you should… I mean, anything—damn it, you know what I mean.”

Delta-3 was quiet for a bit. “…Yes. I won’t see Masters Hanks, Urso, Limen or MIstress Quora again, in any life. You might, Master Konner, when you pass on.”

Konner nodded. “I hope so.”

“When you see them, could you tell them I’m sorry? Tell them I tried… that I tried very hard.”

“I will.”

Click-click-click—with each sound, the light in Delta-3’s Coronacon dimmed. “I think I’d like to be installed in an Alpha series. Small and quiet, never in anyone’s way, but helpful. I think that would be a good life.”

“You got it, buddy. And I’ll be there to welcome you to your next time around. I promise.”

“Thank you, Master Konner.”

“…Goodbye, 3.”

“Until we meet again.”

The crystal was warm to the touch. A solid pull and Delta-3’s internals spun down to silence. Konner held the crystal in his hand, gently but firmly, and headed for the surface. When he started to hear growling sounds echoing from the depths of the caverns, he knew to pick up speed. He made it back to command without incident, escorting his friend’s soul out of the abyss and to a new life.

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