Stumbling, Gita hiked across the low rolling hills as fast as her failing body allowed. She blamed the dimming light for her blurred vision. Foreign ideas, images, and feelings kept intruding on her mind. She couldn’t quite puzzle out what any of it meant; it was as if she were just on the verge of translating something, understanding it. Something told her that whatever this was wasn’t human. The alien presence inside her frightened her, and it was becoming more difficult to separate her own ideation from the strange entity’s.
This place, the ring world, had become far too small and cramped.
It’s time to—to—
Her vision clouded over. She tried blinking to clear it, and when that didn’t work, she stopped to rub her eyes. Her mind drifted. She turned to the forest on her left, and as she did, her sight cleared.
The pink tentacle-puff creatures floated under the shadows in the woods. Now, it was dark enough that their glow was easier to spot. They grew agitated as if in anticipation. Before, there had been a few hundred; now, there were twice that. They bobbed and bumped into one another like fairy lights. There was no wind, yet they drifted and swirled in circles as if dancing.
That was when she heard music.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
It wasn’t exactly a song. She couldn’t have hummed along or whistled it. It tinkled and sparkled like broken mirror glass or the glitter of a stream in twilight.
Mandy continued several steps before she halted and turned. “Hear what?”
“They’re singing to me.” Gita smiled and reached into the air. “They’re saying I should come dance with them.” She moved hesitantly toward the forest. Reaching out, she wondered what their puffs would feel like. Would they be as soft against her fingertips as they looked?
Aoifa and Mandy positioned themselves between her and her goal.
“That is not where we’re going,” Aoifa said. “We’re heading back to the ship. Remember? Liv is waiting. And then there’s Ri. Do you remember Ri? She’ll meet us there.”
“Ri needs me.” Gita covered her eyes. “But I’m so tired. Can we stop for a little while? I—I just need to catch my breath.”
“We’re almost home.” Aoifa spoke as if she were addressing a child. “When we reach Artemis, you can rest all you like. You can snuggle under the nice warm blankets.”
Gita grew irritated. “You’re patronizing me.”
“Love, I’m too busy being worried for you to patronize you.” Aoifa reached out to touch her arm.
“No!” Gita jerked away. “Stay away from me! You’ll become contaminated!” Her vision grew sharp, and so did her thinking. I am Gita Chithra. I’m on Loki’s Ring. Karter Cuplin is on her way to rescue us. We’re leaving this place. Ri will join us later. “Let’s go.”
“That’s right.” Aoifa guided her away from the forest.
Gita staggered away from the fairy lights and their music. She forced herself to walk faster. “How far are we from Artemis?”
She could check for herself via her suit computer, but she was afraid that if she tried to do anything other than focus on getting back, she’d lose herself again. I am Gita Chithra. I’m on Loki’s Ring. We’re leaving this place soon.
“Not far,” Mandy said.
“How far?” Gita asked.
Mandy’s answer was lost in the sheen of the sky, now a darkening purple.
Purple. Purple. Ezinne likes purple, Gita thought. What will happen to her when I’m gone?
All at once it occurred to her that she’d been avoiding thinking about Ezi—and not only over the past few days. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had a more personal interaction with her youngest daughter. What made it worse was the knowledge that not doing so had been a relief. Guilt bruised her heart at the thought, leaving a sharp ache. She should’ve visited more often, played with her daughter at the Center. She saw that now. Her relationship with Ezi had come to revolve around arranging and maintaining her medical care—a being in need of extra support. She’d put on an emotional buffer while feeling nearly consumed with the details of Ezi’s care. And in doing so, she’d neglected both Ezi and Ri.
But Ri had needed less from Gita. Ri was grown. Ri was a neurotypical AGI. She had a career.
I’ve failed Ri, too.
Gita blinked. “Where’s Ri?”
The emerald grass stretched out ahead of her like a smooth new carpet. It made a soft cushion under the soles of her boots, muffling her steps. That’s nice. Wouldn’t it be lovely to take off your boots and wiggle your toes in it? Or to lay down on it? To feel it on your cheek? It looks as soft as kitten fur.
Kittens. Cat. Grimm is on Artemis. We left him in the carrier. He’s going to be so angry. We’ll have to mute his collar for an entire day.
A few paces ahead, Mandy crested the next hill and pointed. “See? There it is. The ship.”
Stumbling to the top of the rise seemed to take every ounce of strength Gita had. When she finally got there, she wanted very badly to collapse onto her knees, put her hands to her face, and burst into tears. Everything was so overwhelming. Frightening. This place was so small, so uncomfortable, so—
Claustrophobic. I’m cramped. I want to stretch. To touch the stars. To… to fly!
Her vision clouded again. Now, she could hear the grass whispering. Each thin blade sparkled and glowed. She bent to touch it, knowing it would tickle if she held her palm just above the surface. The grass smelled so fresh. So inviting. She wanted so much to lay down. “So tired.”
“Shite,” Aoifa said. “She’ll not make it. Not like this. Do you suppose I run to the ship for a stretcher?”
Mandy hesitated. “Maybe.”
“I’ll go. She can have a wee rest. Gather her strength.”
“We don’t even know what’s wrong. If the medical computer can’t identify or classify this, how can we treat the problem?”
Gita knelt down on the grass and ran her palm over it. It tickled in just the way she had predicted. Hello, grass.
“Shite.” Aoifa again, of course.
“Get the stretcher. She can roll onto it. Right?”
Gita wanted to answer but didn’t have the energy to speak. Her arms began to itch. It felt like thousands of prickles under her skin. She knew that if she could see her arms, there’d be goose bumps. Her blood vessels were pathways. That triggered a terrible memory.
Dead people pierced with crawling vines. Staring horrified eyes.
Those aren’t goose bumps. She shuddered. She was repulsed by the reminder that something foreign was moving around inside her body. She wanted to vomit. Oh, Lakshmi. Please help me. I can’t even take off my helmet.
The grass continued its whispering. It reassured her that everything would be all right soon. This was only part of the change. It was right, this change. Don’t be afraid. It was time to lay down and rest. It was time to prepare. The change would take a lot of energy, but then she would be free. She was tired from the long hike. Laying down on the soft dark green carpet, she began to notice more details. Up close, the leaves had thin blue-green stripes. The lines were so subtle that you couldn’t see them while standing.
The grass murmured to her about the forest and the flying pink puff creatures. Every individual was not alone. They were part of the whole. They were connected. And now it was time to join the others. “Everything is one.” She didn’t like the sound of her own voice. It was dreamy, distant, too far away.
“Don’t do anything Aoifa wouldn’t do,” Mandy said. “Not before she gets back.”
“Okay.” Gita listened to the grass whisper about what was going to happen. Someone is about to be born. No, we all are. She could visualize the connections, how everything was entwined. She hadn’t been expected, nor had the others. Her crew. But integration is possible.
No, it had happened before. Everything would be all right. Gita was special. She would add value to the whole. She could help bring an understanding between humans and the entity.
The more the entity absorbed, the more complete it would be. As intended.
Part of her was terrified, almost beyond her ability to cope. She wanted out. She wanted to go home and see her mother and sisters. But another part of her wanted to stay and be part of this miracle.
The birth.
High up in the upwardly curved sky, a second bright light appeared and joined the stationary star. The second sun moved fast, drawing a broad arc in exhaust trails that pointed to the ground.
That’s not a sun. It’s a starship. Karter’s ship. Will it land or get blown up?
Ri. We’re waiting for Ri. Ri needs me. Gita struggled to get to her feet. “We have to get to Artemis. It’s time to go.”
Mandy looked worried. “All right.”
Staggering, Gita focused with all her might on getting to Artemis. She didn’t want to remain here. Whatever this was, it was too… strange. Too alien. Too big. Too much. She was afraid it would annihilate her. Briefly, she remembered the crew of Boötes and wanted to retch all over again. I don’t want to be like them. I will not open my helmet. I will not expose Mandy and Aoifa to whatever this is.
She heard her mother’s voice.
Jaanu, what are you doing with your life? You must come home. You’re getting too old for jetting around space. It’s dangerous.
It was just like her mother to say something like that. But what if she didn’t want to come home?
Of course you want to come home. Your family is here. Your uncles and cousins. Everyone. You would abandon them? Don’t you love me? Don’t you love your sisters?
Yes. I do. Just… maybe not Inimai.
Don’t be silly. Inimai loves you.
She does not. She has the perfect life. Perfect partners. Perfect children. Perfect house. Perfect clothes. Perfect friends. I embarrass her.
Her mother’s presence altered, though still remaining her mother. Her voice, normally a smoky purr, became fuller and even more beautiful. Warm. A brilliant golden light so intense, it made her shield her eyes. Gita breathed deep and caught the scent of lotus. She heard a distant rumbling.
Did it ever occur to you that Inimai might be jealous of you?
That’s not possible.
Is it not? You are special, Jaanu. You brought two very important synthetic persons into the universe. You mothered them as no one else could. Human-occupied space would not have the chance to survive without you or them. And your work is not done.
I don’t know what you mean.
That’s all right. You will.
Her mother’s presence became more solid, more there. Even more intense than before. It felt like love—like the biggest, most comforting hug.
I love you, Mata.
You cannot stay here. Don’t you miss your family?
I do. Both my families. Karter was a part of that, too. Karter, Lissa, Dru, and myself. We were a family. Until I broke us up.
You’re hallucinating.
I am not.
You are. You need to stop now. Wake up!
“What did you say?” Mandy asked.
The distant, deep rumble was growing in force, steadily becoming a roar.
I didn’t say anything. Not out loud, Gita thought. She stopped. She shook her head to rid her mind of confusion. I’m hearing things and I can’t see and—
“It’s okay,” Mandy said. “We’re almost there.”
All at once, Gita’s annoyance was too sharp to swallow. It was keen enough to cut the inside of her throat. “You said that already.”
This isn’t me. Karter is the one with the temper. I’m patient. I’m considerate. With that thought, her anger subsided.
“Well, we are,” Mandy said. Her monotone words were serene and pragmatic. “It’s only a few more steps.”
Mandy was only trying to help, and you yelled at her. Gita felt more conscious than before. How does Mandy do it? How can she be so calm? Gita blinked and stood straighter. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re ill.”
“I’m sorry anyway.”
“Accountability is good.” Mandy nodded. “You’re forgiven.”
“Thanks.”
“Let’s go.”
The building roar filled the air. Gita looked up. The second sun dimmed, making a shadow against the stationary sun before it transformed into a sleek black racing shuttle. It sparkled, catching the sunlight—and for a moment, she wondered if she was hallucinating again.
The vessel slowed. Its impulse jets rotated from horizontal to vertical, and it began its descent. The teal-green grass blew first in one direction, then another, as if in a panic, at last flattening when the little ship was within a few meters. The impulse jets cut out before they scorched the grass. For some reason, Gita was glad of that.
The shuttle landed next to Artemis with a gentle thump she felt through the soles of her boots.
Standing motionless, Aoifa waited for the unfamiliar ship to power down. The shuttle doors hinged open, the upward half creating a small amount of shelter from the sun. The downward part converting into a ramp. Three people stepped out. As often happened after a lengthy separation from someone Gita cared about, her brain took a few seconds to reorient itself to the small differences. Karter had gained a little weight, and her wavy mouse-brown hair was both shorter and grayer. It looked good on her. Lissa hadn’t changed all that much. As for Ibis, the only constant was their hair color: a variety of blue. Today it was aquamarine.
Aoifa rushed to meet them. After a short, celebratory greeting, Aoifa pointed in Gita’s direction. Lissa whirled, running back inside the shuttle. She returned with a floating gurney, a medical kit, and a portable quarantine unit. An amethyst-colored bot a half meter in diameter raced to Lissa’s side. They made shrill, excited noises while buzzing in erratic circles.
“We’re here! We’re here! We’re here!”
At the sight of the bot, an echo of past resentment surfaced. Why would Karter bring an artificial person here when the risk of contamination is so high? It’s irresponsible!
“Your friends are here,” Mandy said.
Gita felt her eyebrows pinch together. “She’s not my friend.”
Mandy signaled perplexity with the tilt of her head.
“She was the captain of The Tempest before me.” Gita’s grief ambushed her again, mixing with her righteous anger. “Karter gave me the ship when we split up the team. Dru stayed. Lissa and Ibis went with Karter.” Poor Dru. Dru is gone. Are Lissa, Ibis, and Karter angry? Do they blame me for losing Dru? I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve—
Gita didn’t know why she hadn’t ever explained the past to Mandy. Mostly, Gita hadn’t wanted to talk about it because it hurt too much. She assumed that it was the same for everyone else. They’d discussed it enough when it’d happened. Then they’d gone on about their lives. They’d redecorated. The Tempest became a different ship.
Mandy had signed on two months after that.
It occurred to Gita that she would probably have to confess that she’d lost The Tempest, too. Karter wouldn’t handle it well.
Not that I am, Gita thought.
Mandy asked the largest, most complex question possible squeezed into one word. “Why?”
Delaying her answer, Gita tried to think of anything she could say that wouldn’t hurt or make Mandy feel left out. But not as much as speaking to Karter will. “Why did she give me the ship? Or why did we split the team?”
“Yes.” Which was Mandy’s way of saying she wanted to know all of it.
“It’s a long story.” Gita shaded her eyes with her right hand. “We had an argument about… about two artificial persons.” And we’re about to have another. “They were members of our crew.”
“You and Dru never said anything.” Mandy’s statement came out as more of a question.
Gita winced as the weight of her grief hit her yet again. A wave of exhaustion pulled her under. The other voices haunting her consciousness began to flood her skull. Lay down. Be still. Sparks intruded on her peripheral vision.
Lissa caught her eye, miming a greeting with a hand gesture and smile. Gita returned it. She felt joy pull her mouth into a smile.
“It must have been hard,” Mandy said. “You were close.”
How does Mandy know that?
Mandy shrugged, reading her confusion. “You talk about things. Until you don’t.” Gita had always admired Mandy’s easy way of observation.
The stretcher glided in front of Lissa as she made her way to the top of the hill. The small, round, purple bot broke away, speeding toward her and Mandy. They squealed with glee as they went. Gita couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Narrowing her eyes, she attempted to force more detail from her increasingly fuzzy vision. She didn’t recognize the bot’s body. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Synthetic personalities changed bot bodies all the time, but there was something about this particular one. For a start, there was the color: purple.
“Mata, Mata, Mata!”
“Ezi?” The steady tempo of Gita’s heartbeat faltered. Why is she here? Gita was suddenly cold, the blood draining from her head and upper body.
The hovering bot briefly floated upward and dropped back down as if it were a child jumping with excitement. “I have something to show you! It’s a surprise.”
“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be in this place.” Gita held up both palms in a mute but emphatic signal to stop as Ezi rushed closer. “It’s not safe.”
“You made it! I’m so happy! I’m here!”
Gita stepped back. “Ezinne, dear one. Don’t get too close. I—I’ve been exposed. I’m contagious.”
“That’s what Aoifa said. I’m sorry you don’t feel well. But we can make you better! It’s going to be okay! I made something for you.”
Turning from her conversation with Mandy, Lissa said, “Ezi, please wait. There are things we must do first. We haven’t finished testing it.” She opened the case containing the compacted quarantine bubble and began the inflation process.
“Do I have to?” Ezi asked.
“Shhh. Calm down. Please use your inside voice,” Gita said.
“But I’m outside! Isn’t my outside voice for outside?”
Gita put her hands on her hips. “Human ears are delicate. Remember?”
“Oh! Right. Sorry.”
“You should apologize to Lissa and Mandy, too.”
“I’m sorry, Lissa. Sorry, Mandy,” Ezi said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your delicate human ears.”
Mandy nodded her forgiveness.
Giving Ezi an indulgent smile, Lissa said, “Thank you, but I think my human ears are quite used to outside happiness.”
“I got to meet my sister, Ri! She spoke to me!” Ezi spun and performed another one of her hops. “And I solved a puzzle! I have the answer! I did it! Fulfilled my purpose.”
Feeling her mouth tug downward, Gita muttered to Lissa without taking her eyes off Ezi. “What’s going on?” Please don’t let Ri have exposed Ezi…
“Ri is nice. She helped by giving me some files.”
Gita blinked back fog. “What files? Wait. When did you meet?”
“Not in person. We had our own private comm channel,” Ezi said. “Do you want the exact time or an estimate?”
“An estimate.”
“Two hours ago. Her bot broke down. She said she tried to get here as fast as she could because of the files. She didn’t mean to miss us. But that’s okay. We have a plan. Sisters are really nice.” Ezi whirled. “Is it time yet, Lissa?”
“That’s lovely. I’m so glad you got to meet each other.” Feeling dizzy, Gita forgot where she was for a moment. When she snapped back, Lissa was speaking to Ezi.
“Why don’t you sit over there and let me talk to Gita for a little while? She’s not feeling well.”
“But I designed the new medbot for her.”
“You designed a medbot?” Gita asked.
“I did! I told you, I fulfilled my purpose!”
“That’s wonderful!”
“Ezi, please,” Lissa said. “Give us a moment. Gita and I must talk first. Then she’ll go inside the bubble and lay down. We’ll discuss the new medbots afterward.”
“Don’t take too long,” Ezi said. “Ri says there isn’t much time.”
Lissa agreed. “I promise.” She turned to Mandy. “I’ve got this. If you’d like to meet the others?”
Mandy nodded. “See you soon.” Then she headed downhill.
The transparent quarantine bubble finished inflating.
“It’s so good to see you.” Lissa opened the med kit and booted up the control pad. “When Ri said you’d been exposed, I wasn’t sure we would make it in time.”
“What’s going on?” Gita pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. Her vision wouldn’t stay focused. And the skin around her skull felt tight.
“The short version is that Aoifa thinks you may have contracted GX-3714.” Using the control pad, Lissa navigated through several menus. “It corrupts medbots and reconfigures their biological components, among other things.”
“Ezi has been working on this problem?” Gita shifted her gaze to Ezi. “How did she get involved?”
Lissa stepped away from the control pad. After unzipping the quarantine bubble, she guided the floating gurney inside. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I need to get you into quarantine. Once the medical computer says you’re stabilized, we can load you into the shuttle. It’ll be a tight squeeze with the bubble deployed, but we’ll make it work.”
An old, deeply held knot of guilt loosened in Gita’s chest. Maybe I didn’t let Ezi down after all. Intellectually, she’d understood all along that Ezi’s error cascade hadn’t been her fault. Even the head of the department had said so. But in Gita’s heart, she simply couldn’t believe it.
“Please remove your environment suit inside the bubble, then lay down.” Lissa returned to the control pad.
Stepping inside the enclosure, Gita felt unsteady. Lissa sealed the bubble while Gita struggled out of her environment suit. She left it on the bubble’s floor before relaxing onto the floating gurney. It felt great to be free of the excess weight and the confines of her helmet. She stretched and wiggled her toes.
Lissa activated the stretcher examination functions. “All right. That’s baseline. Ezi, she’s ready. You can talk to her now.”
“Oh, Ezi. I’m so proud of you,” said Gita.
Letting out another little squeak of joy, Ezi practically vibrated. “I love you, Mata.”
“I love you, too.”
Unsealing the bubble, Ezinne entered. “Don’t worry. You’re going be all right now. I will fix your medbots.” Her whisper was loud in the small enclosure. “Lie still, please.”
Gita got a sense that if Ezi’s little bot body could stretch taller, she would have done it. “But Lissa said—”
Lissa laid a hand on the outside of the bubble. “Wait! Ezi!”
“I have to,” Ezi replied. “Please. It’ll be too late soon.”
Lissa shook her head. She moved to the bubble flap. “It’s too risky. You know this. We don’t use untested—”
“We don’t have time. She doesn’t have time.” Ezi scooted to the flap and sealed it from the inside. “Please. We’ve met the minimum requirements.”
“The bare minimum. There are still so many questions. It’s too dangerous.”
“I have to save Mata.”
Gita closed her eyes and smiled. She felt dreamy and distant. “It’s all right.”
“See?” Ezi asked.
“She’s barely conscious. She can’t consent to an experimental medical procedure in her condition.” Lissa sounded frightened.
Gita wasn’t. She was drifting.
“If you don’t start the bubble, I’ll do it without the containment protocols.” Ezi was firm.
There was an argument. Gita lost track of what was said. At one point, she heard Ezi tell Lissa that she was absolutely sure. That everything had been checked.
“Ezi? What’s happening?” Gita sat up.
“Please lie down. And stay still, Mata.”
“Yes, Ezi. But I have to tell you something.”
“Tell me after.”
Sighing, Lissa resumed her place on the grass with her control pad and medical kit. The transparent walls of the bubble became opaque white.
“Shut your eyes, Mata.”
“Oh.” Gita’s eyelids went dark crimson with the flash of light. The itching under her skin stopped all at once. It wasn’t until the dull ache in her head was gone that she realized that she’d been in pain. Her chest felt lighter. “It’s working!”
“Of course, it is! Shhhh. Mata, stop wiggling.”
“Right. Okay.” As sick as Gita was, she couldn’t help grinning a little.
It took another four intense flashes to complete the procedure. When it was finished, Gita eased her way into a sitting position. “That’s much better. Thank you.”
The bubble’s walls went transparent once more—signaling that the process was complete and the quarantine was lifted.
Ezi made unhappy sounds.
“What’s wrong, dear one?” Gita asked.
“I have to say goodbye now.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s time for me to help Ri. She needs me, too.”
Gita paused. “Are you going to cure her?”
“I only fix medbots, not people. You know that.”
“But—”
“Ri wants to talk to you really bad. Is it okay? She’s worried you’re mad at her.”
“Why would I be angry with her?” Gita tilted her head.
“Because she thinks this is all her fault.”
“That’s ridiculous. This was someone else’s mess.” Tau, Chu & Lane’s, to be exact. “Ri stopped it from becoming much, much worse. She saved everyone because she was brave. She got the word out. And you did, too. You both did. Together.”
“I know. But you need to tell her. It’s special when you say it. Like when you said you were proud of me.”
Gita smiled. “I am proud of you.”
“Mata.”
“All right then. But afterward, you and I need to talk.”
A row of horizontal lights along the center of the bot sphere flickered. Then the bot slowly completed one rotation while hovering in place. “Gita?”
“Oh, Ri. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too. Thanks for coming here for me.”
“There’s no way I’d have ever left you. You know that, don’t you?” Gita asked. “I know I wasn’t always there for you in the past, and I’m sorry—”
“Ezi needs a lot of support. I understand.”
“But things will be different in the future. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”
“I know. Really I do. Now.” Ri paused. “We—we have to talk about something, but I don’t know how.”
“All right. I’m listening.” Gita waited to hear whatever it was.
“I—I have to say goodbye.”
“Well, sure. Ezi will do what she can. We’ll all pack up and leave this place. And then we can—”
Ri made a sound that was something like a sniff. “I hate this. I really do. But it’s time. I—I can’t come with you.”
Gita frowned. She had a bad feeling about this. “What do you mean?”
“Remember what you told me when I was afraid? About how everything in the universe is a representation of the Supreme Being? Even the inanimate? Remember when we talked about reincarnation?”
Oh no, Gita thought. “Ri, honey. We’re leaving together. All of us. We’ll fix whatever is wrong and—”
“I can’t risk it. I’ve been exposed to GX-3714. There’s too much potential for harm.”
A clump of grief broke off from the vast ache in Gita’s heart. It lodged itself in her throat, blocking a scream. “But… but Ezi has the cure.”
“She has the solution for the medbot problem. My situation is not the same. You know that. So she and I, we’re—we’re staying here.”
“Not both of you. Not at the same time. I can’t—”
“It’s okay. I have a clone in storage.”
“How old is it?”
“Aggie had me file one before I left with—” There was a short hitch in Ri’s voice. “Before I left with Wes seven months ago.”
Gita shook her head. “That’s a great deal of experience loss. You won’t remember…” She motioned around her. “All this. The twin will be a different iteration. Significantly so.”
“I know.”
Pressing her lips together, Gita looked away. “I don’t want to say goodbye. I can’t let you both go.”
“I know. I’m scared, too. But at least you’ll have a version of me with you.”
Then Ri gave her the location and instructions for activating her clone, including how to access her official Consent of Activation.
“Promise you’ll wake her?” Ri asked.
“I promise.”
Ri’s relief was palpable. “Thank you.”
A silence stretched out between them. Gita tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make this so much harder. There was so much left to sort out, to talk about. Why wasn’t there more time?
“Something is going to happen. And Ezi and I, we’ll get to be a part of it,” Ri said. “Something wonderful is about to be born. We’ll be reincarnated, just like you said. We won’t be gone. We’ll be here. You’ll be able to look out from a ship and see us. We’ll just be… different.”
Nodding, Gita squeezed her eyes shut. Tears traced warm trails down her cheeks that cooled in the chill air.
“This is our choice. You have to let us go,” Ri said. “It’s time. And we need you to be okay.”
“I am not okay. Not at all. Ezi doesn’t have a clone.” Gita sobbed, covering her dripping nose with one hand. They don’t make backups for faulty synthetic personalities.
“She understands, but she’ll be fine. She won’t feel alone anymore. She’ll be with me. And we’ll be part of something new. Something bigger.”
“At least Ezinne’s dream of being a medbot designer came true.” Gita dried her wet cheeks with the back of a sleeve.
“She’s so happy about that.”
“I’m afraid I let you both down.” Gita sniffed. “I wasn’t there enough.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Plenty of AGI partners never communicate with their surrogates after the initial pairing ends. Ezi and I know we were lucky. You’ve done all you could for us. Thank you.”
“Oh.” Gita blinked. A weight shifted in the back of her mind.
“But now you have to go. If you don’t, Ezi won’t be able to save everyone else. You have the new design. You have to get it to Aggie.”
“Lissa can do it.”
“Sure. But you’re the only one who has the schematics. Ezi saved them to your partner drive.”
“Oh.”
“And there’s Liv. You have to get Liv home. Karter is collecting her and Grimm now.”
Lissa unzipped the bubble. “I’m sorry. But we’re out of time.”
“All right,” Gita said. “Ri?”
“Yes?”
“Can I hug you?”
“That would be wonderful, Mata.”
With that, Gita held the little bot tight. Then Ezinne changed places with Ri for her turn.
“Thank you for being my family,” Gita said. “I’ll always love you both.”
“And thank you for helping to make us who we are. We love you, too.”
Lissa said, “I’m sorry, but—”
Swinging her feet over the side of the gurney, Gita attempted to stand without support and found she was too weak. Lissa told her to lay back down. Gita watched from the floating stretcher as the bot left the quarantine bubble and sped off while Lissa deflated it.
Upon reaching Artemis and the black shuttle, Karter stepped next to the gurney. She stared at the ground, risked a glance at her face, then gazed downward again.
“Hey.”
Gita got up on her elbows and realized she wasn’t all that angry anymore. “Hello.”
“You feeling better?” Karter asked. “Mandy said your symptoms were pretty bad.”
“I’m still weak, but I am. Feeling much better, that is.” Gita didn’t see how this could be any more awkward. “Thank you for coming here.”
“I—we didn’t come sooner because… well, we had to get Ezi.”
Fresh anger sparked tension in Gita’s jaw muscles. “Why did you bring her here? Let alone how.”
She wasn’t sure why she was starting a fight. This meant humanity would be saved from its own stupidity and greed once again.
Except my Ezi will be gone forever.
Not gone. Reincarnated.
It occurred to her that she might have more in common with Karter than she’d thought.
Karter cleared her throat and whispered, “I’m… I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.” This time Karter’s apology was more certain. “Seriously. I am.”
Gita tilted her head. “What for?”
“Everything.” This time Karter looked her in the eye. “The argument. The way we split. Everything. I’m not sorry I stopped you from killing yourself that day—”
“I wasn’t going to kill myself.”
“You were, and you know it. Thing is, I didn’t handle it right. I should’ve taken into account your feelings about—about Abeque. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve let you at least talk to them over a comm channel.”
“We lost Ferdinand and Miranda!”
“They volunteered. Miranda told me she and Ferdinand didn’t want you to be the one to go to the power relay station. The two of them knew what they were in for. They understood the danger.”
“Why didn’t they have clones?”
“You know why. They didn’t want them.”
“That makes no sense! You were the captain! Why didn’t you order them to—”
“I know.” Karter looked away. “And it’s okay. You can hate me forever for it. But I felt it was their choice. I let everyone else decide what to put in their wills. I thought… I thought I’d treat them like the rest of the crew. Leave the choice to them.” She ended her sentence with a shrug.
Ri’s words echoed in her head. This is our choice. You have to let us go.
It was Gita’s turn to look away as she spoke. “I don’t, you know.”
“Don’t what?”
“Hate you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Lissa returned from the shuttle. She opened her mouth to speak, but then she and Karter were knocked to the ground by a sudden, sharp jolt. The gurney merely wobbled in the air. Something inside Artemis crashed.
“What the fuck was that?” Karter scrambled to her feet, using one hand on the gurney to stabilize herself.
The ground began to shake.
“Shit! Everyone inside! Time to go!” Karter shouted.
Hanging on to the gurney handles, Lissa shoved it into the shuttle. Karter stumbled along behind. Once inside, Karter slapped the panel to shut the door. The ramp seemed to take forever to lock into takeoff position. Lissa secured the gurney to the powering unit at the medical station in the back. Then she helped Gita strap herself into one of the passenger flight couches. Grimm yowled from his cage, his collar rattling off a nearly muted litany of woes. Up front, Aoifa and Ibis were in the pilot and copilot seats. They appeared to be in the middle of a fight.
Karter whirled around. “Get us the fuck out of here!”
“I’m flying this thing,” Ibis said. “Because I know how.”
“Do you now?” Aoifa asked. “Between the pair of us, which one raced one of these fuckers on a professional course?”
“You did that?” Ibis asked, incredulous.
The roar of the engines coincided with a violent bucking from the ground.
Aoifa punched the panel button, granting herself the pilot’s controls. The shuttle quickly oriented itself. She steered them into a hard turn and floored it, putting distance between them and the shaking Artemis. “Fuck no. But that got your hands off the controls long enough for me to win.”
G-force pressed Gita into her seat.
“Son of a bitch.” Ibis’s curse was mixed with awe.
Gita stared out of the window, watching the writhing dirt break up the grass. A deep, loud sound not unlike a moan forced everyone but Aoifa to grab their ears.
“What the fuck was that?” Karter repeated herself.
“Don’t know.” Ibis flipped the series of switches in preparation for entering the Ring’s stratosphere. “Don’t care to stay and find out.”
“Hang on to your hats, gentle beings.” Aoifa yanked up the shuttle’s nose, and they shot upward into the concave sky.