“Fucking hell Lanis, are you ok?” Lanis barely hears Mirem’s fierce whisper as the neural net lifts and Lanis staggers back into herself, her mind aching with the echoes of Ether’s voice.
“Yeah, fine. Water, please,” Lanis mutters. Sander quickly hands her a glass of some infused concoction that she takes with both trembling hands, drinking it in grateful gulps. She’s not sure if she’s shaking from exhaustion or some strange exhilaration.
“Thanks.” She takes a deep breath, blinking away her blurry vision. It’s only then that she realizes that everyone in the room is quiet, and watching her. She turns, slowly, finally meeting the eyes of Ash, who is gaping at her, and Henrich, who is slowly rubbing his stubble.
“What? Is everything ok?” Lanis asks.
Henrich finally breaks the silence.
“Well, ah… technically, we’re the ones who should be asking you. The data spike you just exchanged with our AI was… highly irregular. It should have triggered an auto-disengage. But that was overridden. Error cascade. We ah, overrode the override, so to speak, but, about thirty seconds after it was… too late.” He trails off, still stroking his face.
“You should be fried,” Ash says, a hint of awe in her voice.
“Oh. That. I’m fine.” She gestures toward her own head. “It’s probably the Fleetware.” She doesn’t mention the residual psychic ability of her navigator training, the walls within walls that she was trained to construct against such cascades to keep herself sane. She looks at their concerned faces. “What? Really, I’m fine. Just, out of practice. It’s amazing how quickly it all atrophies.” She clears her throat. “I think I got along well with your AI though. Ether. I like her.”
Heinrich and Ash exchange quizzical looks. “That’s what it told you its name was?” Ash says.
“You mean she hasn’t given you a name? And Fornis and the other pilot didn’t get a name out of her either? God, no wonder your integration is terrible,” Lanis says, rubbing her the neural shunt on her temple. It feels hot. She shakes her head, and wonders just how much more advanced Fleet AI integration training actually is. They didn’t even know her name…
“I imagine you don’t know that Mirakata-Heisen AI’s name either, then? No wonder it’s so pissed off. I’d work with it now, but I think I need a break,” Lanis says, an understatement if ever there was one. She looks at Heinrich.
“So, when can I work with Ether again? I’d like to load up some simulators, if you’re able. I assume you have some kind of test cockpit?” Lanis says. She stands up slowly from the pilot couch, then stretches her arms out to the ceiling, feeling her joints pop.
“Um…right… we need to go over these readings with the team,” Heinrich says slowly, casting a pleading look at Sander and Mirem.
Sander clears his throat. “Er… why don’t you take Lanis and meet me in the conference lobby while we discuss things, eh Mirem?” he says.
Mirem nods, her face still pale, but regaining color. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Why don’t we get some fresh air,” she says, putting a hand on Lanis’ lower back. Her shirt is cold and clinging to her skin, and Lanis notices for the first time that she’s damp with sweat.
“Right, sure,” Lanis says, giving a little wave to the dozen or so technicians, suddenly awkward. “Thanks everyone, it was nice to meet you all. Pretty impressive outfit you have here.” She trails off, then looks at Ash. “Pass on the situation to Ether, will you?”
Ash slowly nods, his eyes focusing on herinternal feed. “It— I mean, she—already asked about the training schedule. She um, sends her regards.”
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Lanis smiles, gives another awkward wave, and then leaves with Mirem, feeling a dozen eyes boring into her back and hearing a raised chorus of quickly muted voices as soon as the door hush-clicks behind them.
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Mirem is silent as she quickly walks down a hallway adjacent to the hangar. She scans her badge at a small door that clicks open heavily, and they come outside into an empty quarter acre lot, ringed by walls. There’s been some money and tasteful effort to give the area a park-like feel with plants and benches, but the space is still essentially a small concrete pen where team members can grab a moment of fresh air before getting back to work.
“Why didn’t you tell me it would be like that?” Mirem says, turning to Lanis as soon as they come outside. Her voice is tight with emotion, and her face, before pale, is now flushed.
“I didn’t know it would be like that! ” Lanis says, her own voice rising a pitch in defensiveness.
“You must have had some inkling. Fleet tech,” Mirem says, the words curdling in her mouth. She shakes her head. “You broke the goddamn failsafe hardware, and then didn’t suffer any effects? Fornis is an ass, but he’s been Pairing since he was a kid; you made his integration look like… like shit smeared on a wall. How are they letting you run around down here? With that sort of tech?” She holds up a hand, stopping herself from going further. Her next words are more considered.
“Maybe you don’t understand. What you did there was unreal. If… when… one of the other corps finds out what you can do, they’ll rush in to try to recruit you. And the others won’t want that. It would be too much of a competitive advantage,” Mirem says.
“I said I was a Navigator, Mirem. I spent six years of my life training to integrate with AIs that fight space battles. What exactly did you expect?” Lanis says, puzzled. “I didn’t know I would blow out any hardware, but you must have known it would have been different for someone like me.”
Mirem opens and closes her mouth, struggling for words. “I don’t know… just not, that. I know you were a Navigator, but… I guess I didn’t really appreciate what that meant until just now. You have to understand, Fleet doesn’t share what its training really means.” She bites her lip, shaking her head. “Shit this was stupid,” she says, as much to herself as to Lanis.
“So what are you saying?” Lanis hisses. “That now I’m going to be some kind of target, just from one trial integration? Can’t it be kept quiet? Couldn’t Versk protect me?”
Mirem gestures fruitlessly. She stares up at the sky to a distant maglev gently drifting upward, considering for a moment, before meeting Lanis’ eyes.
“Competitive disadvantage is taken seriously. Very seriously. I’m not saying that you’ll be in danger, but I’m also not ruling it out. I just, I don’t know.” She grimaces, and continues. “Those are Versk technicians. They’re company men. They’ll keep their mouths shut. That’ll buy us time, but eventually word will get out. It always does, especially if you keep up with these trials. As for protection… well, yes, if you sign a proper corporate contract, then you’ll be afforded Versk corporate protection, if deemed necessary. Even though Versk is a relative lightweight, they have allies, especially with the recent Murkata-Heisen share purchase. Other corps will think twice about trying to pull anything.”
“So: I sign a contract. Problem solved.” Lanis says.
Mirem laughs with a tinge of hysteria. “Lanis, you had never set eyes on a Suit until an hour ago. You hadn’t tried integrating with an AI since,” she waves her hand, “sin e whatever happened out there. You’re still recovering-” she says, but Lanis interrupts her.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’ll be the judge of my mind,” she says, her voice hard. She continues, seeing Mirem physically withdraw from the bite in her voice, as if she had slapped her. She continues, more softly.
“Sorry. It’s just that when integrating with Ether, that’s the first time since my injury that I’ve felt… whole. That I’ve felt normal. In a way it’s like being with you, but different.” She spreads her hands, uncertain if she’s expressing what she means. “I need something to ground me, and I need it as soon as possible. You’re right, it’s soon, and I don’t know much. But you, and Versk, you seem like good people. I need this,” she says, her voice fierce.
Mirem is silent, her face indecipherable to Lanis. Slowly, she nods.
“Ok. Ok,” she says, softly.
“Now, do you think they’ll have me? Even though I’ve never piloted before?” Lanis asks, uncertainty creeping back into her voice.
Mirem smirks.
“Oh, they’ll have you,” she says. “I can pretty much guarantee that.”