Argus
patreon
Kitty Cat Kill Sat - Chapter 43
🕑 Added 2022-04-02 06:37:31 +0000 UTCEnnos was grumbling at me.
Earlier, I’d checked in with my AI friend to see how they were doing, and gotten what was obviously an abridged version of their quest to track down some piece of pseudo-living code in the depths of the station’s grid. Now, to be fair, we were actively in the middle of designing a low-speed high-finesse recovery drone - Real America didn’t have recovery drones in their database, go figure - from cobbled together parts of other blueprints so that we could deploy as many as we could rapidly produce under Jom’s command to pick up the crew of a stealthed raft ship that had run afoul of a mine strike. So maybe Ennos was right to abridge it. I dunno. I can focus on two things at once though, so it was probably fine - that’s not just an AI trick! Cats can do that too!
Where I went wrong was abridging it further to ‘hunting for bugs’.
At which point, I got a rather unabridged lecture about how Ennos didn’t ever take organic or physical actions like ‘hunting’, and how the lived experience of being a digital life form meant that verbs didn’t properly map onto their actions, and how we should really be working to expand language even if it is just four or five of us speaking to each other up here.
Probably a few other things, too? The monologue was *really* long, and I can only focus on one thing at a time, and I was busy building drones. I think there was something about how it was kind of dumb that I referred to ‘growing’ attack code. I hadn’t been listening closely.
Anyway, that all got cleared up, the survivors of the wreck were fine. We moved them to another raft that revealed itself when it became clear we weren’t harvesting a bunch of living people for parts or something.
How many people, I sometimes wonder, are up here?
The station has a lot of scanners of different sorts, both active and passive. I keep most of the active ones off when I can help it, because… I mean, they clash with the stealth systems. No matter how high tech your stealth systems get - and make no mistake, mine are impressive - it can still cause problems when you broadcast a sensor ping.
So, long story short, again, I’m not blind but I’m not perfectly informed.
I also don’t have the time to keep all these calibrated right, and sensors require an unholy amount of upkeep. The system that keeps my air flowing maintains itself better than the manual controls to direct and realign the scanner arrays.
Though I do have more time than usual right now, which is nice.
The last week has had a few major issues, most of which I resolved with railgun, one of which I resolved by letting Glitter convince someone not to try landing on the planet blanketed with several hundred thousand ancient-but-still-deadly point defense cannons. But aside from that, it’s quiet up here. So, content that the drones have done their job and Jom is headed home, I take off running from the command station.
I mean, we never know how it’ll be quiet. Seems dumb to waste time *not* rocketing around the halls. It’s not like they’re crowded.
Six minutes (I tried to go through an air vent and got my tail caught, readingshut up, it wasted some time) and one encounter with Dog later, I slide across the smooth metal deck plates in front of the room that I’ve repurposed into a garden, and dive into my lush artificial jungle.
There are, in general, three places I spend any free time I have. Napping in the solarium, reading anywhere that has a flat surface and grid access, and now, in my garden.
Mostly the garden. Technically I’m working, checking irrigation levels, monitoring growth rates. But in reality, I’m wearing a broad zucchini leaf as a hat as I peer out from under the plant, trying to figure out if it counts as hunting if I ambush one of the tiny tomatoes that are alllllmost ready. If there was sun here, then I’d nap…
“I could have built this in the exo lab!” I exclaim suddenly. “I could have put this down on the lower deck, and had a garden, *and* sun!”
“Lily, are you alright?” Ennos asks me rapidly, any hint of their earlier annoyance gone.
I sit up, wearing my leaf as a regal crown, until it slides into my face and I tumble sideways into the nanodirt. “I’m fine!” I lie enthusiastically. Or maybe not so much of a lie. Sometimes Ennos reminds me just how much of a friend they are, and I can’t help but feel less alone for a while. I don’t say that though. Instead I say “Just pondering my hubris.”
“Ah. Well. Good.” I can almost hear Ennos nodding, which is impressive since they don’t map to organic actions. “Your carrots are coming in nicely, it seems.”
“Bah.” I say. “Carrots. Maybe Dyn will like them. I can give them all to her, assuming she ever says anything.”
“Eighty days ago, you were trying to figure out how to override the organ cloning chamber so you could eat your own heart.” Wow, I’ve never heard someone sound *that* disappointed by simple facts. “And now you are snubbing one of your few sources of new flavor.”
I look down sheepishly. Part of me thinks I should just tell Ennos that I ate the top of one of the carrots, the part with all the thin greens, and that I hated it. But now that I think that, I’m almost certain that can’t be what carrots taste like, so I keep it to myself.
“Carrots wronged me in the past.” I say instead.
“Uh huh.” Ennos is unamused. “Well, regardless, you’re going to have an abundant harvest of quite a lot soon. Will you need help carrying it?”
We got the manufacturing facility to produce a run of about twenty orbital drones that have hands. It took a while to properly connect them, but Ennos has been trying to find a use for the things for a while. The station *still* won’t let them fire weapons - or interact with anything, really - but that doesn’t make them useless. And right now, my friend sounds so excited by the concept of moving a bucket of tomatoes around, who am I to say no?
“Sure. But it won’t be that much carrying, the galley is right there.” I point with a paw, watching as the cleaner nanos swirl around it and gently sweep every trace of dirt back to the planter box before I lower it. Back into the dirt. I wonder if the cleaner nanos ever get annoyed with me.
Ennos has a puzzled tone when they reply. “The galley has a manual feed, but only for immedient processing. It draws stock from a number of storage rooms nearby. Unless you plan to snub all those carrots at once, you’ll want to store them properly.” Damn. They’re right, I can only snub one or two carrots at a time. “Exactly.” Ennos says. “So we’ll probably put the majority of it in the refrigeration unit one deck up, and…”
Ennos is still talking, but I’m having a hard time listening. My fur stands on end, the room feels cold. I want to burrow under the tomato plants and hide from this conversation and everything else, just for a little while.
I’m not sure where in their sentence Ennos is when I cut in. “Can’t use that room.” I say, the meow of my voice rough under the projected words.
There is a pause. I find I am breathing heavily, my chest shoving dirt aside in a furrow as I gasp, my paws tingling with poor circulation. I’m lightheaded, faltering. But I shove my mind to focus as Ennos answers. “Ah.” The AI says kindly. “Of course.” They pivot rapidly, adding, “Well, there’s an anti-entropy stasis vacuum roughly a hundred and twenty meters away on this same deck. We can set up one of the station’s automated cargo bots to move things to the galley when needed, I’m sure. The power draw will be the biggest issue. I’ll talk to Glitter.”
I nod. I want to say that Ennos should also talk to Jom, who I think had a line on an intact Ellison reactor in one of the wrecks out there in the ongoing hell of a Kessler Effect that my station is parked in. But I don’t say anything. I just nod quietly, and curl up in the dirt, and fight to control my breathing.
I want to laugh, but I can’t. I want to scream, but I can’t. I just sit here, falling apart. And just because I’ve been reminded of the existence of a room.
We haven’t talked about it, but Ennos and Glitter know what’s there. I’m notoriously bad at giving good answers to things, and even worse at organizing my thoughts, but they know.
A little over four hundred years ago, a long shot of a science expedition boarded this station. Explored it. Found the Devastation Engine it was built around.
And just like they were ordered to do, they worked to replicate what it had to offer.
I’m still here. None of them are. But I couldn’t just… what was I supposed to do with them? The bodies were kept, originally, for ‘research purposes’. But what was I supposed to do with my mom? I couldn’t just… throw her away.
I wasn’t awake then. But I still remember how much it hurt. I don’t remember how I did it, maybe the station took pity on me. But I know where she rests.
One deck up. Behind sealed doors, splashed with molecular hull paint spelling out the Last Oath. Her own personal orbital tomb.
I never go near it. I can’t. I can’t remember, without hurting.
At some point, I fall asleep to the tickle of the cleaner nanos trying to sort the dirt out of my fur.
The dream is fog and grey, uncertain. Dreams are never like this. I’m me, not as I was, but as I am. I don’t understand what’s happening.
I try to look around. Nothing. Just me, the fog, and the woman petting a cat shaped cloud in her…
...Lap…
Alice looks up, and smiles at me. A jolt of something shoots through me, and I try to run to her. Try to move at all. But I *can’t*! I’m stuck in place, my paws won’t obey me, the dream grabs and pulls and rends and I am falling and…
A warm hand on my head. An ancient, achingly familiar voice. And I’m there again. Looking up at my mom, at the only human who ever truly mattered to me.
“Hey there little Lily.” She says with a smile that could light up the whole orbital system. I try to reply, but I have no voice here. Not even my own. “You’re not quite here yet.” Alice shakes her head.
Yes I am! I’m here! I’m here now, and I can stay here, and everything will be…!
“Sorry, little Lily.” Alice tells me with a sad smile. “And I am sorry. Because out of all of you, you have the hardest job of all. But you’re doing great! And I believe in you. Do you think you can keep trying for me?”
Of course. Of course I can! I can do anything, if you need me to.
“I can’t hear you, little Lily.” Alice shakes her head, and the other cat in her lap yawns loudly. “Not yet. But you’ll get there.” Her hand pulls away, and I want to scream to call her back, but I can’t, and I know I shouldn’t. “It’s about time for us to go. I’m… so tired… and you need to wake up.”
I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave. I found you, here, and I can stay, and I can…
I can hear the siren, from outside. From the organic ears and the stupid obstructionist station and the cruel solar system. I don’t want to listen. But.
But I know who I am. And what I do.
“Find yourself!” Alice calls to me, as for the first time, I exert agency here. And I turn to step back to wakefulness. “You can do it in time! I know you can!”
I wake up. Warm and comforted. Dog is curled around me like a protective wall of fur and muscle, head only barely raised to look up at the sounding alarm. He’s getting used to them, which is probably sad somehow.
I listen to the pattern and the tone. Three one three, high high low. Emergence event, outside the firing envelope, but I could probably hit it with a missile if I was so inclined. I need more data, and that means moving. I need to get ready, and that means moving too.
When it’s quiet, rushing makes sense. When it’s loud, rushing makes *more* sense. I twitch, and Dog unfolds himself from around me, letting me stand. Rising on steady feet, I call up my AR, and map a path, sending a ping to Ennos and Glitter that there’s an emergency they can’t properly respond to.
Then I run. Bolting out the door. The cleaner nanos in my fur pull back, and briefly hang behind, holding the rough shape of a cat in quite a hurry. Then Dog sprints after me, and I feel the flow of crisis and response take hold again. Like I know today is going to be busy.
But that’s fine.
I know who I am. And I know what I do.
Comments
abowden
I wonder if this will help her get over the pain of losing her. Seemed like something clicked in that dream.
