The sonorous hum of the spacero’s engine was the only sound during the interplanetary transit. Abby knew that they’d have been accelerating harder if Charlie7 had been alone in the cockpit. For the latter half of the trip, they’d have to turn the vehicle around for the decelerating force to press her frail human body against the seat cushion rather than strain her neck and dig the safety restraints into her chest.
“You awake over there?” Charlie7 asked casually.
“My eyes are open, aren’t they?” Abby replied. “Hasn’t been that long since you were human, has it?”
“Well, Eve has the same implants, and she sometimes—”
“I’m not Mom,” Abby replied. “These are just eyes. Same hardware, maybe, but I don’t keep them hooked into every bodily system and the Solarwide to boot.”
“I always assumed…”
“Because I never talk about it,” Abby replied. “Last thing Mom needs is for the anti-roboticists to add a ‘but her daughter has the same cyber eyes and doesn’t use them as a terminal.’ I let people gossip. Never hurts an artiste to have an air of mystery, no matter how slight.”
“Anyway, since you are awake, I was going to suggest you eat something.”
“Rather you keep accelerating,” Abby replied. “I’ll eat later.”
“It’s a long trip. You’ll need at least five meals.”
Abby shut her eyes. It lessened the desire to fix a glare on the busybody robot, which would have required more neck strength than she possessed as the spacero shot through the void. As it was, at best she might strain a muscle trying.
“Or nap,” Charlie7 said. “Save your strength. You’re going to need it.”
“Either you think I’m sleeping, and you should cut power to your voice modulator, or I’m just resting my eyes, and you can stop patronizing me. I’m old, not incompetent.”
“Fine. You’re awake. Maybe it’s a good time to start planning a strategy.”
“Showing up and negotiating is the strategy.”
“Well, broadly, I suppose. I was thinking of perhaps taking it one step deeper and coming up with obstacles and countermeasures.”
Abby sighed. Despite Charlie7 upping the oxygen mix in the cockpit, the force pressing her against the seat made it work to breathe. “My plan is to ask them what they’re after—really after, not the ridiculous list they sent to goad us—and work to see how little of it I can give them to release everyone unharmed. If they give me any guff, I intend to be charming as hell until they can’t stand it any longer.”
“That… might work.”
Abby wasn’t some young kitten to have a string dangled in front of her. “If you want to say something, say it. I am, as you might imagine, a captive audience.”
“Do you plan on meeting them face to face?”
“If possible. I find the stage more engaging than any recorded performance. More like stand-up comedy than a sitcom.”
“I never cared for your stand-up, if we’re being honest,” Charlie7 said.
“We all need to learn our strengths and weaknesses,” Abby countered. “Not all of us programmed ourselves to be perfect.”
“I’m just saying that we ought to consider the possibility that things don’t go smoothly. If you’re conducting in-person negotiations, we might need to formulate a rescue plan before they get one of those collars onto you and add you to their menagerie.”
“They’ve got my granddaughter. I’ll risk whatever it takes to secure her safety. No putting Kaylee and the others in danger. I utterly forbid you to try anything involving force.”
“I’m sure I can come up with a plan that involves minimal risk. If I convince the Martian colonial authorities to give me use of five or six of their construction drones—”
“Forbid.”
“But what if—”
“Look here, Rasputin,” Abby said darkly. “These are humans. Frail, ephemeral, infinitely valuable. They don’t get reloaded into a spare chassis if someone kills them. They didn’t back up their consciousness to a secret archive somewhere just before leaving Earth. Go ahead and deny it.”
Charlie7 remained silent but eased off the throttle a hair for her benefit.
“You see, I’ve got to weigh however many years I’ve got left against the innumerably more years those poor hostages might experience. And it doesn’t help that I might save my granddaughter only to lose my mother while I’m off on another planet. But I had to choose between possibly seeing my mother one last time and maybe being the difference in my grandbaby getting to keep on living.”
“I’m just trying to be objective.”
“Well, stop it,” Abby concluded. She opened her eyes, staring ahead into the star-flecked darkness. Mars was one of those tiny glows up ahead, though it was too soon to pick out which. “This is the time to feel out the humanity in another person, dig deep into the hurt that’s causing them to lash out, and patch up the differences. Corollary to getting all the hostages out alive is that I’ve got to find a way for all the hostage takers to come away satisfied.”
“You should still eat something.”
“Changing the subject is an admission of defeat.”
Abby closed her eyes again and drifted off for a nap, knowing that Charlie7 wouldn’t interfere with her plans.