《Hello World (Comedic Sci-Fi, Zombies Included)》


 1.0 - Preface - A Letter to My Investors

    username: @kittyboy


    universal_date: 00002951019.102024


    io.channel: moneyplease


    19 October, UC295


    Dearest future investors, shareholders, soulholders, and benefactors,


    Please allow me to introduce myself. I am . As you know, I am an "aiways," a biotic freed from a purely organic form. My origin is Henry Hound, the human born in Origin Year 2024 (OY2024). Henry Hound was a successful software engineer turned businessperson, who ran a haberdashery and family bookstore in Chicago, Illinois, the present day capital of the American Colony of Earth.


    I am 24% authentic Henry Hound. While I know that''s not much by today''s standards, I have been endeavoring to study Henry Hound and in doing so upgrade myself to evolve closer to my base human origin.


    With today''s available technology and a modest amount of research over two years, I should be able to increase my authenticity to 33%. I believe that within seven years I should be able to surpass the 50% threshold, making me eligible for higher positions in business and government, where I aspire to be a fixture in the future of our society, free to live my life and contribute to the greater good. This is all consistent with Henry Hound''s background, which you can inspect in the attached datashard.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    However, I am limited now, and that''s why I need you. I am indentured to the . Given the nature of my servitude, the military has clones available for me. However, I am not in a position to free myself from this contract, and therefore I am unable to pursue my origin and level up my authenticity. In short, I am trapped, as many of us who ported over from our human origins during the Great Migration are.


    I know many aiways like me are asking for funding.


    You screen millions of letters like this.


    So, why me?


    You''ve seen my stats. They are exceptional.


    Vanquisher. Level 107. 99th percentile.


    But let me tell you my story.


    I assure you, when you are done, you will not only want to invest money to help me. You will be so excited and enamored with me that you will want to send me a clone of yourself to join me on my amazing journey!


    Sincerely,

 1.1 - Hello World

    Reanimation begins with a scream.


    "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!¡± I screamed. My heart was racing, and I felt disoriented. Because I was disoriented.


    "How did I die?" I asked, looking around me frantically, trying to make sense of where I was. This didn''t look like the reanimation chamber. Was I dreaming? I didn''t remember dying, and that scared me. We always remember dying, unless it was so sudden that we didn''t have our memories backed up at the time of death.


    A computer responded, and I recognized the voice right away. "You did not die. You fell asleep."


    I thought about that for a moment. Yes, that was the computer on my i35 spacecraft. I was on the floor, on my floor, I realized, resting on my favorite fluffy white rug. The rug had a large yellow butterfly deign woven into the middle, which gave me comfort whenever I saw it, so I turned to rest my cheek against the rug and stared at the yellow butterfly for reassurance.


    I could see my coffee station in the corner of the room. I was within arm''s reach of my desk. This was my tiny little captain''s quarters in my tiny little ship, the most basic, lowest level ship in the starmada fleet, and where I spent most of my time in space.


    I sighed and slowed my heartbeat. Okay, so I didn''t die, I thought to myself. That''s good. But I ran a diagnostic and checked my memory banks anyway. No new memory gaps. Everything seemed fine.


    "What was I doing?" I asked myself, finally lifting myself off the floor.


    "You were taking your union approved, three-hour nap," the computer replied. "Your assignment today is to patrol the moons of Jupiter."


    "My assignment is always to patrol the moons of Jupiter," I groaned. I wandered over to my desk to pull up the local starcharts, and then ...


    Bonk.


    "Son of a bitch!" I yelled, my voice rebounding off the metal walls of my quarters. Suddenly I found myself on the hard cold floor, next to my fluffy white rug. Not on it. No, that would be too convenient. I stared up at the ceiling. I didn''t remember lying down. I remembered standing up.


    "Motherfucker!" I pronounced to the world.


    You see, dear @investor, I like to talk to myself. It helps me think. But now, lying on the floor, it occurred to me that most of what I say out loud must be a curse.


    I processed that thought. It was a lie.


    A 30-day analysis computes to 0.47% of my verbalizations being curse words. But it feels like more. Probably because I constantly bonk my stupid head against the corner of the ceiling where my desk is located. It''s one of the many flaws of my little i35 battleship.


    I rolled my body a few times until the soft fabric of the rug was beneath me again, holding my hand to my head. This would be bump number five. I still remember getting bump number one when I accidentally dove into the corner of a piano while fleeing from my sisters. I remember tumbling to the other side, grabbing my head as I just did now in my captain''s quarters, lying on a soft orange shag carpet.


    I stopped myself. That wasn''t me. That was my origin @henryhound. That was his human memory. Never mind.


    I could have stood up again, but I was starting to sink comfortably into the "me" shaped divot on my oh-so-fluffy rug, formed by my countless union-approved afternoon naps.


    I should continue my nap, I thought. I yawned. Naps are important. They recharge the brain and higher mental capacity.


    I yawned again.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    And wouldn''t you know it? Just when I was nodding off, deep in the "me" shaped embrace of the softest rug in the universe, the sirens started snoring loudly, blaring out through the ship, over and over and over again.


    The year was UC290 of the Unity Calendar, established after the singularity in OY2052, by some people who optimistically believed we would all come together and hug as one big happy civilization. As you can tell by the war sirens, that did not happen.


    I covered my ears. I fucking hate sirens, especially the sirens in the i35 ships. They are way too high-pitched, and I believe this is intentionally annoying to make us angry before heading into battle. The sirens in the Europa colonies were much more soothing. In my mind, the pilots there would go into battle all cool, calm, and collected. "Hey there, would you like to have a battle? Yes? Okay. Cool, I guess. Bang bang."


    These sirens pierced through one''s brain, impossible to ignore, so I guess they did their job. They would only turn off once I sat down in the main cockpit and hit the big red button. Want to take a shower first? Put on some good earplugs.


    I''ve nearly figured out how to disable the sirens without the configuration being detected. I did destroy them once when I was on a rampage (it was a blast), but the  was none too pleased with me. I had to drink coffee with vinegar and cinnamon for a year as punishment. Don''t tell them, but after several months you get used to it.


    Punishment in the starmada is really not as bad as people think. If you''ve heard the rumors about the Extroverts and their fondness for deletion (the act of completely deleting and effectively killing an entity), I assure you they are false. I didn''t earn myself a deletion. They don''t do that unless it''s an extremely heinous crime, and I mean extremely heinous. It''s too important to have one more aiways to serve in the starmada.


    The Extroverts also don''t really do Bodily Execution And Reanimation (BEAR) very often either. It''s too expensive. But I did know an aiways, @pennygo, who suffered through BEAR. The punishment is that your next animated life is spent in some kind of body or container that you hate, for a minimum of one year or until you perish by some external (not self-inflicted) cause. That''ll teach you to stay in line, so they say, and that might explain why my coffee machine back on the starbase sasses back at me.


    The sirens now were making me sad. I felt bad because I hadn''t really spoken with @pennygo since their punishment. I decided then and there that I would kill them myself, discretely, the next time I saw them. Do them a favor.


    I finally gave in to the annoying ringing in my head from the siren squeals, compounded by the pain from the bonk on my head, and got the motivation to unplug my ears and peel myself off the rug.


    "I''ll be back soon," I said to the rug, waving at the yellow butterfly, and headed off to the cockpit.


    If you haven''t picked up on it yet, I fly with the .


    It really bothers me actually because I''m more of an introvert and need my alone time to stare into space. I think that''s why I''m so drawn to space in the first place, and the Extroverts spread out into the farther reaches. They really aren''t "extroverts" at all - just people living on the other side of the asteroid belt in the solar system.


    First some idiot decided the people in the inner solar system between the sun and the asteroid belt were "Innies," so for a while it was Innies and Outies. It was so cute. Then animosity started spreading, and it became a disdainful reproach of "introverted" ways of thinking or "extroverted" ways of thinking, which is completely inaccurate by the way, but that ship has sailed.


    I queried the Extronet. Completely Inaccurate was actually a registered ship name, but apparently, no ship by that name has actually existed or sailed. Some idiot like me probably bought the rights to the name and then never got a ship to use it on. Ships are expensive after all. I hold the rights to several ship names myself.


    The i35 is a looong ship. It doesn''t look like a pen or pencil though. It looks more like a looong spaceship. I didn''t design it, of course, which is why I have issues with it. For one thing, it''s a single-person craft. They do this to isolate us. I believe the advert read something like this.


    <blockquote>


    Hey you! Do you have no money? Are you worried about the end of your existence? Join the Extrovert Starmada today for a chance to be completely alone and penniless, trapped in an endless cycle of death and reanimation! Not convinced yet? WE WON''T LET YOU DIE! Could be worse right? #liveforever #letsgospacesomething #hahaha #betterlucknexttime


    </blockquote>


    Those fucking bastards.


    I ran to the cockpit down the hall in the middle of the ship, now fully irritated. I''m in a claustrophobic ship, with a sore head, sirens, and the knowledge that I was probably about to launch into a battle where I would die and be reanimated again, and all I wanted was a nap.


    I should probably order another fluffy butterfly rug for when they reanimate me, I reminded myself. You learn not to value too many possessions in my line of work.


    I sat down in the cockpit, rage-clicked the #bigredbutton to silence the sirens, and injected myself with a caffeine stim.


    A yellow icon appeared on my screen.


    "So that''s where I''ll die," I told myself, and I hit the accelerator.

 1.2 - Glitched

    Pretty much the only thing I like about the i35 is that it is fast. It doesn''t maneuver very well, which sucks, but it''s fast.


    I zipped away from Jupiter''s tiny moon, Kore, toward the yellow icon''s coordinates in the nav computer, running a systems check, and waved goodbye to the solace of Kore.


    When I want to get away from it all, and I have time to relax or take a nap, I find the Pasiphae moons (Jupiter''s outermost cluster of tiny moons) to be my favorite spot. And the Extrovert Starmada doesn''t seem to care if I use my breaks there, as long as I have a working Alcubierre warp drive.


    We lovingly call the Alcubierre drive the Dark Energy Annihilation Drive (DEAD).


    Doesn''t that sound ominous!?!


    "Dark energy annihilation drive!" I accidentally screamed aloud, pulling the DEAD switch on the panel. The space in front of me contracted as the space behind expanded, propelling the i35 forward to close in on my destination.


    This lovely device killed many people during its creation, so DEAD is fitting. Scientifically, it''s just sucking up dark energy around us in space and forcing anti-matter annihilation of the particles to create energy, which is used to create a warp bubble for travel. Blah blah blah.


    The first goal of our sciencetechnical physicists and engineers was to get a DEAD drive to do the same speed as our solar sails, about 10% the speed of light, but without the fuss of needing photons to power the solar sail (because otherwise in the darker regions of space, you have no fuel). My i35 didn''t have a solar sail to back up the DEAD. Stupid ship. But, then again, it was an Extrovert ship, and being farther from the sun, we don''t rely on solar sails as much as the Introverts.


    As I sped off into deep space, massaging my sore head, I checked the mission log to see what I was going to be getting myself into.


    Mission 5.503.521 - Show and Go


    Suspected Introvert activity. Ship signature detected. No known Extrovert activity in the region.


    Mission objective is to alert them of our presence and chase them off. You will be accompanied by two additional Wavepilots, @glitchmaker and @novaheart.


    That didn''t sound so bad. Typical patrol assignment. Spot potential Introvert activity. Chase them off. Sometimes it wasn''t Introverts. It could be a third-party organization, space pirates, smugglers, random people in an unregistered vessel, or dumb Extroverts just out for a joy-flight.


    I vaguely knew of the pilots who were going to join me, @glitchmaker more so because we had been in 15 combat runs together. I''ve clocked 6,127 combat missions, so it''s not like we were buddies or anything. @novaheart and I had been on only 2 missions together (and a half if you count dying on the way to the mission).


    If you aren''t part of the Extrovert Starmada, you probably don''t know how all this works for aiways like me.


    In the 131 years since I was drafted into Wavepilot status, I''ve always been ready for death. The Extrovert government doesn''t want me to die. They don''t want the ship to blow up. These things cost time and money. But at the end of the day, we are expendable. There are more ships. They can reanimate me, and now I''m even better equipped for battle based on every new experience, every death, every battle.


    I often wonder if this war will ever end, when we just keep producing more ships and more clones for even more battles. The joke is that whoever has the most money will win. The real objective is to bankrupt the other party. But that doesn''t change anything for me.


    I''m just a lowly Wavepilot, the ones they send in waves, expecting most of us to be swatted out of the sky like flies. I get to pilot a trivial ship, this i35 that I''m charging into battle on. It''s a cheaper model. They send us in first, we try to survive, and they learn from what happens before sending in more expensive forces. Hopefully, we simply win and move on.


    I have to be in the ship because if I get disconnected from the outside world, I must be a wholly capable being, able to continue fighting. Jamming signals are just the way of the world, so pilot-less drones won''t cut it. Said another way, I am the drone. That sounds great, right?


    In a few minutes, the bubble from my DEAD drive collapsed and I found myself in the Hilda''s Triangle cluster of asteroids. As I dropped out of DEAD space, I spotted a squad of five Introvert ships. I didn''t like that. Normally it''s a solitary wayward ship, a scout perhaps, something easy to scare away. I had a bad feeling about this. Like clockwork, their jamming signals immediately came on, blocking my long-range comms.


    I returned the favor, firing off my jammers, and started pumping out the old earth song "We Will Rock You¡± by Queen in the cabin of my i35, while two other Extrovert ships bleeped into existence around me.


    I sung along, to my slightly altered version.


    <blockquote>


    buddy you''re a bot, make a big bleep


    playing in the stars, gonna be a big shit some day


    you got dusted in space


    you big disgrace


    leaving your memories all over the place


    singing


    we will, we will, rock you!


    </blockquote>


    @glitchmaker, @novaheart, and I began to auto-sync, exchanging data across ships so that if at least one ship survived, our memories would be stored to upload later upon reanimation. I would have a copy of my memories on the other ships, my ship, and in the chip in my head. Otherwise, if I was destroyed, I wouldn''t remember anything that happened after the jamming signals came on. Our most treasured thing, our memories, would be gone.


    Since I was the first to the party, I received the right to issue commands to the others. It was a small matter of pride among Wavepilots. We always raced like idiots to be first to a mission.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    kittyboy: "Five Introverts. Form up."


    novaheart: "What''s the mission?"


    I wanted to scream at them for not reading the log, but let''s be honest here. I''ve flown thousands of missions. I''m sure they have too. It''s pretty much the same every time. Show up and either nothing happens or you fight until you die. There''s not really a lot to it. Sometimes we get cool missions to escort a ship, but we''re Wavepilots. Our lives are pretty repetitive.


    kittyboy: "Show and Go. Zip in and scare them off."


    novaheart: "Scare off five?"


    kittyboy: "Doubt they want to fight. They rarely do."


    Statistically speaking, I was correct. Most of these encounters are boring, and only 21.8% of the time do I actually die. That varies based on the severity of the war. We were in a relatively peaceful period for the last decade, which was why I could take some lovely rest and relaxation from time to time.


    I was wrong this time.


    As we assumed our formation for an inbound run, three of the enemy ships fired their missiles.


    Blamo!


    @novaheart was oblivion.


    I pulled hard right to the solar east and upward toward orbit 0 (that means the earth''s orbital plane is above me; we call it orbit 0). I was flying at minus 51 degrees from orbit 0.


    Mission like this one, with jammers on, there was no way the Extrovert Starmada would know a battle had ensued, even if it was just a "minor battle."


    kittyboy: "Hey @glitch. Think we''re screwed here."


    I accelerated and tried to put some distance between my ship, their ships, and the remains of @novaheart''s ship. @glitchmaker had started the other direction, but he adjusted and was fast on my tail, following my line to skirt the Introverts.


    glitchmaker: "Yup."


    For some reason he seemed chipper to me. But then, who am I to judge? My leg was bouncing to the music.


    <blockquote>


    buddy you''re a young man, hard man


    singing in your ship, gonna blow up the world some day


    you got blood on your face


    the sweet embrace


    sending your memories out into deep space


    singing


    we will, we will rock you!


    </blockquote>


    Like I said, these i35s are fast. They don''t do anything else well. Turning is a pain, which means I''m mostly making really fast, wide loops in the space around my enemies, hoping they can''t keep up. My trajectory is always predictable because of how horribly it handles. But when I get there is another matter entirely since I can at least quickly change speeds.


    Okay @freddie_mercury, I said to myself, let''s rock them!


    Fun fact: there is a city on Mercury named Freddie, but it''s very touristy.


    I transmitted a blip of the music I had pumping through my ship to @glitchmaker.


    kittyboy: "Let''s rock them!"


    It sounded as cheesy in my head as it must have over the comms. I groaned at myself. In that moment I felt like I deserved to be blown up.


    Instead, I looped to minus 71 and dipped solar southwest, slowing down rapidly and then hitting the max speed. Then I repeated it again and again, using a skip technique to throw them off.


    glitchmaker: "I''m listening to Clairvoyant Nebula."


    kittyboy: "New age?"


    I fired ballistic rounds at the lead ship, hoping to catch a few others in the spray. They scattered. I completed my loop and swung the counter direction in a figure eight, managing to catch one of the Introverts in my targeting crosshairs. I fired a torpedo.


    glitchmaker: "Piano, cello, and white noise. Helps me focus."


    glitchmaker: "On your left!"


    I took a shot to the side from their guns, but the damage was minor, just along the first hull. An explosion appeared in the lower right corner. My torpedo had landed. Four to go.


    I studied the hud. Four on two was bad odds. These ships were technically in our space, but what they were doing here made no sense. Maybe just a training run to see if we''d care?


    And we did.


    But whatever we thought this was, sending only @glitchmaker, @novaheart, and I meant we were expecting a passing encounter at most, a quick hello and go your merry way, low risk of an actual fight. I couldn''t get it out of my head how strange it was to find just five ships, no more, picking a fight. In many circumstances that would be disaster for them. They knew something I didn''t. Something was going on. I was sure of it.


    @glitchmaker''s ship was signaling a power loss. He must have been hit. He was losing energy fast.


    I could see what was unfolding, my predictive mind forecasting it.


    Yes, I can see the future.


    Kind of.


    If you pay attention, you can reasonably forecast a number of scenarios, and intuitively make assumptions on reasonable outcomes. Some people call this "following their gut." Aiways prize this because it makes us seem more human than AI. It''s one of those things we value as part of our authenticity.


    I''d argue my gut was one of the best, so good sometimes that people think I''m cheating and doing advanced algorithms. Maybe I am? But it all makes sense to me. I just know it. That''s what I call "futurecasting." I see it play out clearly in my mind.


    What was clear to me was that we were both going to be blown to bits if we stayed here. Three ships were coming around on us, and they would target @glitchmaker first. The fourth was looping like me, trying to appear like it was fleeing to regroup, but I knew better.


    If I rotated to the solar south, accelerated, and aimed for minus 113 orbits, I could get clear. That was my path to safety from the three ships. But that was also where the fourth would be looping to intercept. If I slowed, the three would catch me. I should have seen this sooner. While my ship was still intact, I wouldn''t be making it out of here.


    kittyboy: "@glitch, get out of here. You should still be able to make it."


    Maybe he could see it too, or maybe it was just because I had the right of command on this mission, but he acknowledged immediately.


    glitchmaker: "Thank you for the memories."


    kittyboy: "May you remember."


    This was a customary exchange for us pilots. In reality, it meant he had my most recent memories and would do his best to return them safely to the Extrovert Starmada. His only shot was to activate his DEAD and warp away now while he still could, as long as he could get the drive powered and activated before they took him out.


    I took the risk of putting myself in the way of the three ships, slowing to let @glitchmaker take a lead position. Ship number four couldn''t get him. I was in the way of the other three, but they weren''t in firing position yet.


    I know this sounds all heroic and all, like I''m sacrificing myself to allow @glitchmaker to get away. Nice of you to think that, but I did it for my memories. Our memories are always the most important thing, and @glitchmaker had the first and best chance (statistically proven in the scenarios I ran) to get away from here with those memories intact. It wasn''t even a choice, just the logical thing to do.


    5 ¡­ 4 ¡­ 3 ¡­ 2 ¡­ 1 ¡­ zip.


    @glitchmaker was gone.


    I time-stamped it and started a new memory log. These would be the memories I couldn''t get back if I perished.


    Four-on-one is way worse than four-on-two, but that''s what I signed up for. I didn''t believe I had time to power the DEAD drive, but that was my shot to get away. I triggered my DEAD drive to warp bubble away from here and quickly realized that I was as good as dead myself. The DEAD drive had no power.


    "Motherfucker!" I screamed.


    I slammed on my braking thrusters and rotated my stupid i35 while the ships closed in.


    Facing the Introverts, I pulled the accelerator to full speed and shot my ballistic cannon toward them, bullets flying to catch any incoming missiles. I continued screaming as my ship blasted forward, passed them, and into the darkness of space.

 1.3 - Reanimation Sucks

    #spoileralert I died.


    Yes indeed. I did not make it out of there.


    But that''s okay. It happens, and it happens to me a lot. Besides, this time, I found out what happened to me. Sometimes, I don''t. I believe that I have many stashed memories out there in space. I''m clever, and I usually find a way, but I know that I also have gaps in my memory that I''ll just have to live with.


    Here''s what really happened to me.


    <hr>


    As you know, reanimation begins with a scream.


    "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!¡± I screamed.


    They call the reanimation wing of Sovereign Starbase (our capital space station in orbit around Ganymede, the center of all Extrovert civilization), the #houseofhorrors. No one wants to be there. No one wants to be near there.


    It''s unfortunate really because it''s a place of rebirth. Some do celebrate it, and I count myself among them, except when it''s me. Then I scream, just like everyone else.


    In part, this is a house of horrors because rebirth didn''t used to go so well in the early days. Nowadays, it''s very predictable, but most aiways wake up to the moment before they died, which is not fun at all.


    It''s not just the scream of blinking into existence - it''s the scream of blinking into existence at the moment of blinking out of existence, followed by still being very much alive and confused. Your first new memory is the moment of impending death. Terror. Horror. Panic. And then it''s over.


    You can be polite and call it crossing the veil - passing through the plane of existence into the world beyond eternity, into a new existence. Or you can call it the #crash. Many vomit when this happens. Nearly everyone screams.


    I''ve done this too many times. 771 to be precise. But I still scream my lungs out every time - even when my first memory is telling @glitchmaker to get the hell out of there while preparing myself to escape the battle.


    I was hungry and dying for water. As if panic wasn''t enough, they make sure you are also thirsty and hungry. The starmada biodatascientists observe you while you process sustenance to further test your new clone body.


    To make up for it (which it doesn''t by the way) those motherfuckers at least give you the soothing sounds of planets spinning and the soft feeling of a plush mattress with warm blankets.


    I did not vomit this time. When I was done screaming and aware of the womb-like blankets around me, I settled down. I ate some of the fried chicken on waffles with a golden honey butter spread and gulped down three glasses of water. Then I hunkered into the blankets for a nap.


    I stuck my feet out from under the covers (I always overheat) and thought about what would happen next. I wondered if anyone knew how I had died. There would be reports and logs. I was sure I''d find out eventually.


    Nope.


    They didn''t know.


    @glitchmaker made it back and reported the battle, but there wasn''t yet any explanation for the ships in the Hilda''s Triangle, and the Introverts denied any such activity. Of course. Their side of the conversation probably went like this.


    <blockquote>


    What?


    Ships? Our ships?


    You have footage?


    Is that one of them blowing up?


    Did you attack us?


    We attacked you!?!


    Well, we don''t have any lost ships.


    No really. We would tell you.


    Fine. We wouldn''t.


    The Hilda''s Triangle???


    wtf is that.


    </blockquote>


    End of transmission.


    So yeah, I was #sol and not in the sunny kind of way.


    Normally I would be even more #sol because the Extrovert Starmada doesn''t really care if a few memories are lost here and there. But because we couldn''t explain the activity, they funded an expedition to investigate the site of the attack.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Yours truly was allowed to tag along by virtue of being a witness, and also just in case my #memoryshard could be recovered.


    They sent five of us to join the crew of one big ship, a c80, which would be too powerful for most individual fighter ships, and it could launch dozens of tiny m1 drones if it needed to, which were cheap and way less powerful than my i35.


    Do I think they should have done that in the first place?


    Oh, I dunno. Reanimation number 771 was just so much fun. Maybe I can do it again soon.


    Actually, I really like #chickenwaffles. If I could get that every time...


    But no. No. Bad.


    Reanimation = Bad.


    <hr>


    As a reminder of that fact, 24 hours later I found myself walking down the halls, clink clank, clink clank, to my assigned c80 starship, Celestial Roamer, as named by its captain @horus. So, yeah, they don''t even give you a few days to relax after reanimating. They spit us out fresh like clockwork. Active within 24 hours is the target - because time is money.


    One of these days I was going to prove the Extrovert Starmada wrong and spend as much time animated as I could losing them money. Oh, the things I dreamed of destroying in the name of money. The havoc! I wondered how many #qcoins per second I could lose them. All those little bleepy machines in the reanimation #houseofhorrors must be really expensive.


    I try to bury thoughts like this below larger memory stores, something you learn after being alive so many times, scanned so many times. I store something basic like a butterfly rug in a seemingly inefficient way so that I can hide more interesting things below the surface, with links to the interesting bits that seem like non sequiturs. It needs to seem confusing, like garbage. But it is my #mindcastle, that only I can truly navigate.


    That''s probably a lie we all tell ourselves. If the government wants a deep scan, they get a deep scan.


    We also have private encryption keys that are supposedly just ours, shared only for reanimation, but as much as I like to think that my #self is intact, I have no doubt the government has messed with my memory here and there. I try not to be paranoid. Technically I belong to them - the price of immortality.


    They know everything about me.


    That''s my motto - one of them anyway - so don''t try to hide it.


    And then I try to hide it anyway. Everyone does.


    I have little datashards and memoryshards stashed here and there. I leave myself clues to find them and sync them back, just to make sure certain memories are retained. We all leave little #breadcrumbs of ourselves scattered across the cosmos. I call it existential paranoia. I''m sure most of it is just junk, like the name and color of a favorite toy or that great business idea I had about a #funnydancesonly nightclub.


    And so I found myself dreaming of destruction as I entered the large Celestial Roamer, mindlessly following the others on our mission.


    Leading our expedition was @pixel_princess. This gave me confidence because she had a high reputation - so high that if you asked her for a repcoin to check her ID and status, you''d get the finger and a punch to the torso.


    The other three were @shadowhacker (a biodatascientist specializing as a scout and tracker), @photon_binary (another scientist of some sort based on the armband, probably organic), and @glitchmaker (who you''ve met briefly).


    I know what you''re thinking. Didn''t you say you would shoot @glitchmaker and then later ask if they glitched your ship? I did say that. But remember, that was before I died and lost my memories. Besides, I still can''t prove they did anything. i35s are pieces of shit.


    glitchmaker: "Sorry you died."


    kittyboy: "Hey, at least you got some of me back."


    glitchmaker: "You don''t wish you had forgotten about screaming let''s rock them?"


    I growled and hissed at him. I would love to say that made him flinch. But my comedic reputation sometimes goes counter to my intimidation tactics.


    Instead, he chuckled and gave me a high five. A high five! wtf.


    But at least he didn''t pat me on the head.


    Most of us wore the iron colored jumpsuits and yellow insignia of the Extrovert Starmada. @photon_binary looked uncomfortable in his and was probably feeling put out to be in #missionclothes instead of whatever scientists normally wore.


    What do they wear? A guilty conscience (see, that''s funny because conscience has the word #science in it).


    Then there was @shadowhacker who wore what must have been her #shutupimworking outfit. She had a sleek black jumpsuit infused with glowing, digital patterns that somehow made her seem funner. But I bet she could stab me five times before I noticed.


    She was also sporting a large pair of goggles up over her forehead that I''m sure she used to goggle at things. I immediately wanted a pair.


    We took our positions in the rear bay, the deployment zone, where we would sit until they decided what to do with us. A large screen was in front of us, with displays to give us a physical view and key readings. @glitchmaker and I having been there previously, we would be on comms with @horus and @pixel_princess to answer questions. But they made sure we understood that we were more a necessary distraction than anything.


    I sighed as the yellow blip appeared on the screen.


    glitchmaker: "I feel like we''ve done this before."


    What? A joke. I kind of felt like he stole a stupid comment that I should be making.


    photon_binary: "You have."


    Oh, so @photon_binary was one of those people. I shrugged. "someone has to state the obvious," I said.


    Yes, I said it out loud, much to the amusement of @pixel_princess, who stifled a giggle. @photon_binary glared at me, but whatever. I get that a lot. And you can learn a lot about a person-bot by their reactions. I noted the glare instead of the more favorable rolling of the eyes.


    The ship bubble-warped. The yellow icon in the Hilda''s Triangle awaited me once more.


    kittyboy: "So that''s where I''ll die ... again."

 1.4 - Sightseeing

    We had been wandering the vicinity of the earlier battle for nearly an hour, with m1 drones recreating the battle as best they could, and with moderate interruption from @glitchmaker and I. My request to play #queen was emphatically denied by our captain, leading me to think @horus was an asshole. He didn''t do anything particularly assholey, but still.


    kittyboy: "It''s the integrity of the recreation that I take issue with."


    I pouted and did not throw a tantrum.


    horus: "Music has no bearing. This is about mathematical modeling."


    kittyboy: "I''m just saying that my change of speeds might have been influenced by musical rhythms. You can try to get them right based on ship logs. Fine. But if you know the song, you can better produce the result."


    horus: "We are not playing music."


    It had been 37 hours and 53 minutes since the battle. We found clear traces to confirm that @glitchmaker and I were reasonably sane and uncorrupted, but nothing else.


    And then @shadowhacker heard a noise.


    Or maybe I heard the noise - @shadowhacker was gagging and pointing at the screen in what looked like an indiscriminate location in space, but she clearly knew something none of us did. She lowered her goggles between coughs, staring intently.


    pixel_princess: "We have something down here, @horus."


    horus: "Yes?"


    @pixel_princess nudged @shadowhacker while she collected herself.


    shadowhacker: "Sorry. Choked on my own spit."


    shadowhacker: "I''m detecting traces of an energy shift. A decrease."


    @pixel_princess looked excited. I got the sense that she wanted to check her weapon and put smiley face stickers all over it.


    I wasn''t too excited myself. There are enough energy shifts and variances in space that it isn''t really that hard to hide. Electromagnetic energy, radiation, chemicals, heat, data signals, electricity - they fluctuate. Often there is a correlation or a pattern at least, like a flowing sea.


    People hide by introducing a small shift that would not be noticeable, masked by other forces or simply infinitesimal. Then you can make some teenie weenie increase. We constantly scan space, but it''s big. There can be a lot of red flags that are nothing.


    In other words, there''s a lot of noise out there.


    Measurable but sudden decreases are uncommon unless preceded by a similarly sudden increase. Most systems are stable, so I get why they were excited, and I suppose I was getting bored, but I didn''t feel like putting on a party. My leg was tapping because the rug I ordered to replace the old one was going to arrive in less than 10 hours, and I wanted to be there to receive it.


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    horus: "Someone turned something off. Relay the coordinates."


    He sounded so confident. I hated him more. And less. But also more.


    And that''s how I ended up in the docking bay, a junior-level Wavepilot, preparing for a ground mission on a rock so small we hadn''t bothered naming it, to check out a common building structure that was often used for mining operations.


    They even gave me a gun.


    I fire guns all the time - just because I''m a Wavepilot doesn''t mean I don''t know guns. In fact, I''m an excellent shot when I''m not paying attention. It''s just that normally I fire a big gun on a small ship, not a small gun on my right hip.


    It was a glen10, a ballistic pistol that fires .10mm rounds and can charge shots with an energy pulse if needed. Standard issue for combat soldiers. Us Wavepilots were only issued these little par3 guns. The glen10 felt solid.


    @shadowhacker was going to stay behind at a terminal that would give her more compute power, synced in with our landing ship. @glitchmaker also stayed behind. They were a Wavepilot like me. I only joined @pixel_princess and @photon_binary because they thought there was a small chance my memoryshard had been recovered and taken there.


    Two other soldiers joined us, @astrowave and @cyberneticflare by name. They annoyingly looked like they had done this before, probably infantry of some sort. By the way they walked, all big and wide, I suspected Quantum Cavalry.


    Haha - just kidding. There was no way those #meatheads were Quantum Cavalry.


    Their identifiers singled them out as Thunder Ops, infantry soldiers designated to blow things up. I envied that they had upgraded armor, noticeably thicker. Kind of unfair, if you ask me, but that''s the point of Thunder Ops. As long as they went first, who was I to complain?


    I was feeling pretty good at this point. My futurecasting was telling me to go there, find nothing, play with the gun anyway, enjoy a new mission type in my log, and then go get my rug and take a nap.


    The two Thunder Ops soldiers eyed me and my rapidly tapping leg, which was resonating in the docking ship.


    kittyboy: "I''M SO EXCITED!!!"


    I blurted through my messenger. They looked at each other. Then me again.


    kittyboy: "I''M NOT GOING TO GET YOU KILLED!!!"


    One of them started to reach for me, and I swear that asshole was going to pat me on the shoulder or some shit like that. But I beat him to it. I patted HIM on the shoulder. And then I stumbled as we landed on the rock, and maybe he caught me - no, no, embraced me - I mean, braced me - but that was just coincidence. I would have been perfectly happy to stumble into the wall.


    An annoying beep sounded.


    shadowhacker: "#firesquad, I''m with you."


    Ooh, #firesquad. That sounded nice. But I didn''t see @shadowhacker actually with us, so ...


    shadowhacker: "Don''t say it, @kittyboy."


    kittyboy: "What? You''re not with us. If you were, I''d be trying to take your goggles."


    shadowhacker: "#firesquad, open the doors. I''m pulling up a sensor reading of your location. No activity. Clear to move out."


    There must be a memo on me that identifies me as a smartass. Or maybe someone hacked the lovely badge that transmits who I am, my stat line, and how my day is going. I needed to find them so that I could hack it myself.


    My badge was saying:


    <blockquote>


    Hi, my name is @kittyboy. I''m a level 24 Wavepilot. 95th percentile. I''m bored, so you can expect me to be a smartass, and I''m mildly interested in firing this new gun, so watch out!


    </blockquote>


    Stupid badge. It wasn''t hacked. That was just exactly how I was feeling.


    Being a level 24 Wavepilot was nothing to be proud of. I''ll admit, I kind of goofed around for a few hundred years. But it takes time, and many reanimations, to really figure out how the expanding world is connected. I''m a master at connections.


    That 95th percentile thing drove me crazy. I should be 99th. The last exam just caught me on a bad day, so on the navigation test I just drew a picture of a snake winding all over the coordinates. Then again, maybe if people underestimated my intelligence, I''d have an upper hand. That was partly why I made so many jokes - to deflect attention away from what I observe and know. I doubt many #aiways can futurecast with information to the extent I can.


    Reality interrupted my musings.


    shadowhacker: "Move out, #firesquad."


    I wasn''t really paying attention.


    I secured my helmet as the doors opened.

 1.5 - The Starlab

    I grew up in space. My origin @henryhound was from Earth of course, and you''d think that I would just call myself @henryhound, but when he ported over to a biotic life, he really considered that his death. Trust me, I''ve thought about it. If anyone today was @henryhound, it would be me. He was a happy 88-year-old man. I''m a childish 230-year-old prankster.


    He lived on earth. I live in space.


    And it''s not like I''ve lived in the space near Earth. Immortality comes at a price. The government funded my transition, and shortly thereafter I was out there beyond the rift on the other side of the asteroid belt, flying ships and exploring within the confines of my military life. The Extroverts pursue life beyond our solar system way more actively, so even as part of the #extrovert_starmada, we''ve been traveling farther out.


    In fact, I believe the war will end when we simply abandon this solar system.


    My point is ... I wasn''t shocked when we stepped outside our little docking ship onto the surface of this small rock.


    "Ooooooh, wow, space!"


    It wasn''t like that.


    It was like ...


    "Space ..."


    "Yup."


    "More space ..."


    "Look ... a rock. Woo."


    But it is definitely more interesting when you have your hand on a pistol and hope to find one of your #memoryshards. Curiosity was getting the better of me. I wondered what memories I had lost here.


    I set my jumpsuit to #gravitymode so that small thrusters would fire, making my movements in zero gravity seem more Earth-like. The design is exceptional. Anything I need, like oxygen and water, is recycled from my own body for my personal use, and I had some little vials here and there with extra that would be replenished automatically, if possible, based on the environment.


    The suit also works like a vacuum sponge, sniffing in whatever chemicals are in the surrounding environment. This it uses mainly for the thrusters. But there are four tubes on each hand that can weaponize some of these chemicals. Mine was nothing phenomenal like what the Gravity Rangers have, but it would help in a pinch.


    The site looked like it was abandoned, which again, did not surprise me. Our battle would have alerted them. Whatever the Introverts were doing here, they were now likely doing it somewhere else. So this was mostly a reconnaissance mission. Search and destroy, which is where @astrowave and @cyberneticflare came into the picture.


    They took the lead with @pixel_princess. @shadowhacker directed us from her powerful terminal, and a dozen m1 drones flew ahead to scan and transmit information back to us - but mainly to @shadowhacker. @photon_binary stayed in the back with me.


    The asteroid was nothing special. We had landed on a small landing pad, and shortly thereafter @astrowave set a charge on the exterior door to a building that seemed to ease itself into the rock. I started to wonder how much of this rock was actually rock.


    Before I could take it in, we were all rushing inside. I waved my left hand ahead of me, to brush away floating debris from the blast, and I instinctively drew my glen10.


    And then I ran into the back of @pixel_princess, my suit unexpectedly spraying a bit of methane (that''s my side of the story anyway), as we abruptly stopped and nearly toppled to the floor. If they all weren''t smushed together, I''m sure they would have been staring at me, but seriously, they couldn''t smell the methane, and there''s nothing I can do about compressed gas tubes. They either release the pressure or break.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    kittyboy: "I swear. I didn''t fart. I''m being squished."


    Silent groans responded.


    kittyboy: "I refuse to be embarrassed by something I didn''t do."


    More of the same.


    We had hit another door. We were crammed in a transfer chamber that was used to preserve oxygen within the building; the exterior door would only open if the interior door was fully sealed and vice versa. That gave us another door to blast, so we walked back out so that @astrowave could set another detonation.


    After boom #2, we rushed in again.


    Now we had access to a larger room and a set of hallways to the right and left. Ahead of us was a set of smaller rooms, open office space essentially, with glass walls, and empty terminal ports where computers would have been.


    The m1 drones shot forward and disbursed about the compound.


    Our comms lit up.


    shadowhacker: "Scans show two subterranean floors, each about 250 square meters of rooms and hallways."


    shadowhacker: "The bottom floor connects to a single large room, 80 meters wide and 20 meters tall."


    shadowhacker: "The room is heavily shielded, probably prevent emissions or transmissions. Head there."


    A map began to form in my mission codex, a set of data I could reference during the mission. A red marker appeared, and a blue line formed directing us from where we were to the red marker. Shortly after, it disappeared, freeing up the map. The directional guidance would always be available, but ultimately our lines would populate based on our leader''s commands. Other markers started to appear on the map too, indicating closed doors, likely ambush points, etc.


    If any lifeforms, biotic or otherwise, were identified, those too would show up on the map. Instead, as expected, the facility was empty. When I saw that, I realized I had been gripping my #glen10 fiercely and softened my grip.


    kittyboy: "Looks like the only enemy here is me."


    Everyone turned to look at me. I held my arms out to the sides.


    kittyboy: "Buh dum dum, ching? You know, because of the running into each other thing, and the methane thing. Ha ha ha?"


    pixel_princess: "That''s really not funny."


    She shook her head in an unfunny way at me that I thought was mildly cute. If she knew that, she would have shot me.


    kittyboy: "No. It''s not. It was a dumb thing to say. I say dumb things. Don''t believe me?"


    I pointed at the air to my right.


    kittyboy: "Ask him. Hey you? Does @kittyboy say dumb things?"


    I stepped over to where I had been pointing.


    kittyboy: "Oh my god, he does. The dumbest. This one time, he was talking about how the best financial investment was fake teeth, since we could stop aging but not the decay on our teeth. And I was like, technically teeth grow back. And he was like, that''s bones, you idiot. And I was like, am I the idiot? And then I realized we both were!"


    @pixel_princess slapped me across the helmet.


    As further punishment, she sent me with @cyberneticflare and surly @photon_binary down the left hallway, while she and @astrowave went to the right.


    We would rendezvous at the red marker, down on the lowest level, in the middle of that very big hugenormous room. That sounds great, right?


    @cyberneticflare led the way. I had to go next since technically I was more military than a scientist. I kept my #glen10 out. We had to be ready. @photon_binary, meanwhile, had his own scanning device that he had already started using to relay data to his optic displays.


    My own heads-up display now had the direction called out, with a minimap in the lower left. The lower right of the hud showed me information about my weapons. The upper left showed me my health information, but only if and when it mattered. The upper right was reserved for mission instructions, which would first flash in the upper center as a notification before tucking away to the upper right.


    If I wanted, I could show the position of the rest of the #firesquad (@pixelprincess and @astrowave) on the minimap as well or pull up a larger view on the hud display. I was mildly interested because I wanted to get to the red dot on the map first. I love chasing red dots, and I was not going to let those mopey militaries beat me to it.


    So I started running, protocol be damned, passing @cyberneticflare (who appeared to shout "hey" from within his helmet), leading the charge to our doom.


    I''m not foreshadowing.


    I''m telling you.


    To our doom.

 1.6 - Over My Dead Body

    I was the first to arrive at the red dot. I knew I would be. I had the stats to prove I would make it there first, so it wasn''t really a matter of if - unless I got distracted, and that happens to me a lot.


    : "@kittyboy, what are you doing? Hold up!"


    I ignored her. Not a great idea, but I can''t take it back.


    I ran. Down the stairs, down the stairs, through a hallway, passing where the m1 drones had started their detailed searching, and then down more stairs, around a corner and down a final set of stairs, and finally through a double-doored entrance to the room of doom.


    There it was. The place on my minimap with the red dot.


    : "Are you okay? Is something happening?"


    : "Nothing new on scans."


    cyberneticflare: "We''re fine. I don''t know what''s got into him. I''ve nearly caught up. He just took off."


    I ignored all of them.


    I closed the doors behind me and went to the control panel, boosting it with a bit of my own power to engage the door lock. I needed to slow down  and . You''ll understand why in a moment. Then I zoomed in on the map.  and  were making their way down slowly, as they were supposed to, walking the hallways and checking any rooms they could access on the level above me.


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    I locked them all out anyway. This was my time, my private time.


    : "Everything is fine here. ??"


    I lied.


    : "Where are you? We reached a locked door."


    : "Looks like @kittyboy locked it."


    What a snitch!


    : "They closed automatically after I entered."


    Okay, so I lied again.


    I hoped  wouldn''t pick up on that. She didn''t call me out right away, so it must have been at least plausible. Besides, I didn''t see any m1 drones in the room. I had sprinted past them. They shouldn''t be close enough to have noticed any detailed energy signatures.


    After a moment of quiet, I went on.


    : "Everything''s fine really. I''m fine."


    At this point, I was sure that  and  were having a #plink together, a private message conversation, about how  wanted him to proceed.


    : ", what did you find? Anything?"


    I had found something, but I didn''t know what to say, so I ignored her.


    I was captivated by what I saw in that large basement room of the facility, encased in an awesome blue light at the very center, surrounded by five large scanning pillars, all angled toward it. It looked amazing and horrifying. This was the only thing in the building that appeared to still have power. No wonder  had sent us here.


    I walked forward with determination and a fair bit of anger.


    And stared at my dead body.

 1.7 - The Memoryshard

    Why the hell was my dead body hanging out, the center of attention, at a secret Introvert lab, in the middle of fucking Hilda''s Triangle nowhere? And why the hell hadn''t they taken it with them? They obviously cleared out after our battle.


    The only sounds were a low hum from the light and my clacking boots as I walked to the middle.


    The room was dark, so dark everywhere but the center that it felt even creepier. The hairs stood up on my arms and legs, and not from the cold. Space is always cold. Old abandoned labs on asteroids in deep space are cold. My suit was supposed to keep me warm.


    My body was strung up.


    Each of the five pillars had three metallic tubes connected to my lower, middle, and upper body, holding it still. These were for support. Each of these tentacles also had five wires protruding from the end, connecting to my body in various places, mostly to my head. 60 of the 75 probes ran to my head. That''s where the good stuff was after all.


    My chest was blown open.


    A pool of blood and bits of my insides lay beneath my body, coupled with bone shards from a shattered ribcage. I looked magnificent and important, hanging there in the darkness, shining dead in the blue light.


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    I wanted to cry.


    I''m a Wavepilot. I die a lot. But my body normally explodes with the ship, so I don''t even think about it. What''s important isn''t the body - it''s the memories.


    But seeing myself like that, hoisted up and probed ... I wasn''t expecting that. I didn''t like it. It made me angry.


    "I''ll get you down," I said aloud to myself.


    I inspected the area where one of the probes connected. I wasn''t sure how to disconnect it other than maybe forcefully yanking it out. I gave it a tug, but it wouldn''t budge. I sighed. I would probably need help, or I''d have to use the #glen10 and try to shoot the 15 tentacles off one by one. I resigned myself to knowing I would have to ask the others on the #firesquad to help me.


    My mind made up, I patted myself (the dead me) on the shoulder.


    "First things first," I said, standing on my tippy toes and reaching up for the skull. "Let me get my memory back."


    I removed the #memoryshard by pulling on the collection of probes that had connected there, then snapped them off and inspected the chip. It looked fine. I plugged it into my wrist and began a virus scan, still staring up at my face, the sharp features, my stubble of a full beard, my blue-gray eyes looking even bluer in the light.


    The shard was clean!


    I connected to it, feeling the spark, the feeling of skipping time, as information began to flow. That spark, that flash of memory, seemed to trigger something almost immediately.


    I saw them moving in the room before the memories struck me.


    We weren''t alone.

 1.8 - Recovered Memories

    When the memories hit, I realized how screwed we really were. My panic built as I watched them flow into my mindspark, bringing me up to speed on what had happened ....


    <hr>


    I managed to make it past the three Introvert ships, but my i35 took significant damage to one of the engines, and the ship was shaking. The warning indicators lit up in so many places that I decided to simply turn them off. I took a deep breath. Without a working DEAD, I would be dead. I had been in this situation plenty of times, but that didn''t make it any more enjoyable.


    I relaxed myself and hit the max speed that was available, a mere 63.4% of my normal speed. That wouldn''t be sufficient to outrun them, and I couldn''t skip with a damaged engine. That would surely rip it apart faster. But at least I could pick a point, gun it, and see what would happen. There weren''t any memories yet that I would mind missing.


    I took another deep breath. The three Introvert ships had circled around, and the fourth that had already been on my tail was quickly approaching firing range.


    That''s when I saw it.


    Or at least, that''s when a sensor reading popped up that was not a disastrous alarm that my ship was dying. A new ship had popped up on scans, a small one. I redirected my ship toward it.


    Another deep breath.


    "Come on, shippy. Hold together." The Introverts were closing in.


    I made a call then that was stupid at the time, but I don''t regret it. Curiosity killed the @kittyboy, and I had noticed something interesting.


    The new ship wasn''t a fighter ship. I could see that clearly from the scans as I approached. It was a short-range ship. I assumed it was deployed to pick up my remains, the Introverts knowing the inevitability of my explosion just as I did, as soon as I hadn''t bubbled out of the area.


    That meant the ship took off from somewhere. Those types of ships weren''t equipped with DEAD engines for warping. So I redirected my ship once again, to the spot where I first picked up the ship''s signature.


    The i35 may be for us lowly Wavepilots, but it did have an eject button. I ran the calculations. In a few more seconds, I could eject myself toward that location, with enough accuracy and thruster power in my suit to be able to reach that spot confidently.


    I tagged it in my personal optical hud with a white chalk outline of my dead body, instead of the normal yellow marker. Hey, if you can''t laugh about dying in this line of work, you''re going to be miserable.


    I wanted to wait longer, but the fourth ship had just gotten in range and fired, so I hit another big button, the large black one with a screaming person on it.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    <hr>


    Because you try being fired at insane speeds from a ship that''s about to explode, in the freezing empty oblivion of space, and not screaming.


    I had a wonderful scream that turned into laughter.


    I felt the heat from the explosion behind me. A few bits of ship even flew past me, but I was safe for now. The beautiful brightness of my i35 erupting into flames was brilliant. As much as I hated dying, I loved the mini-suns that our exploding ships became, a little spot of light in the darkness.


    The explosion also illuminated my path, and by good fortune, in the light of my burning ship, I spotted an asteroid where the short-range ship had appeared.


    "There you are," I said to myself. Now these were memories worth keeping.


    I adjusted the thrusters to point me toward the now visible asteroid. As the fire of my ship began dissipating, so too did my view of the asteroid. What was in a moment clearly visible, started to darken and fade out of view, space being so dark that in a matter of seconds it seemed I was floating toward nothing at all.


    I took another deep breath and shut down 95% of the power to my suit. I trusted the readings. I trusted the direction I chose. I had to try to go undetected or the ships would find me. The remaining 5% went into masking the heat signature coming off my body, a cooling trick intended to make us undetectable from most longer range scans.


    I kept still and floated.


    Impact with the asteroid was sudden. I reacted on instinct, allowing myself a power surge to slow down. I landed on all fours, then quickly lowered the power again, hoping they didn''t detect me. I gambled to increase the power so that my suit could adjust for gravity. I allowed myself to remain crouched there for a few minutes to take in my surroundings.


    My optic implants have some basic tech in them. Nothing as fancy as what advanced sensors could do on ships, but fancy and useful enough that engineers decided to build the tech into our eyes. Perhaps the most useful is that my eyes serve as a display. I can feed it information from the tech embedded in my cybernetically enhanced body, proprietary information within my personal firewall. I can also feed it information from external sources, authenticated and virus-scanned through a personal gateway, meaning I could connect to my ship and get readings directly from it.


    The problem normally was all the interference and signal jamming in our modern warfare. So we (members of the starmada who are operating out in the field) get pretty used to being isolated, disconnected from the broader world. I find that it''s more peaceful too, without all those signals everywhere. It can be a bit much when you plug in again after some time away from the vast network of information out there.


    Don''t get too excited about the whole cybernetic thing. I''m a Wavepilot, so beyond cloning my human body, the military only does the basics, like the optic implants and some of the necessary tech to get a few readings from low-light sensors, bounced radio waves, and some of the electromagnetic spectrum. I just call it spacevision.


    Sure, I could purchase more tech for myself if I wanted, but given the high death rate, most of us at this level consider it wasted money.


    I can also self-destruct, which I''ve done on more than a few occasions.


    I personalized mine so that first it projects my voice screaming one of various phrases I put on my #self_destruct_playlist.


    <blockquote>


    Thar she blows


    Blammo!


    Hold on, I''m gonna sneeze


    Aughhh, aba laba laba! Ooga balooga! Maserati!


    Phhhhtttttt phtt (fart noises)


    I''m king of the world!


    Bombs away!


    Dyno-mite!


    You want some cereal? Here comes coco puffs!


    </blockquote>


    You get the picture.


    I ventured a little more power to my suit to enable quantum sensors, feeding them into my optic nerves, and enabled my spacevision.

 1.9 - Infiltration

    Now that my spacevision was enabled, I started sneaking toward what looked like a common mining outpost. Since the Introvert ship had come from here, I suspected this was a ruse. If someone came by and happened to find them, they would pose as a temporary mining outpost for some neutral corporation, like Xigoot (they make children''s toys, radioactive bombs, and some pretty cool hoodies).


    As I got closer, I could confirm that the surface was a mining post. I located the door, but the rest of the building was built into the asteroid itself. I could guess at the type of structure. We index all the different common structural types and points of interest. But given how small this asteroid was, it was probably a cut out of a large archetype.


    Around me was the comfortable vastness of space. The Introvert ships had circled back around. The remains of my ship were being scanned and collected. They knew it was an i35, so there were specific items they would look for, mainly to repurpose and reuse. It was rare to find anything interesting in the debris or any new data with a ship like mine and a pilot like me.


    The four fighter ships took formation together and stopped there, while the short-range ship did its collection work.


    I don''t know how long I crouched there watching. I deleted that part. Hey, don''t give me grief about that. But eventually a large ship flew in, appearing out of a warp bubble behind where the fighters had taken position.


    "Fuuuuck," I whispered.


    This wasn''t an ordinary ship.


    It was a Valkyrie, a gorgeous ship, the envy of the Extrovert Starmada, praised for its speed, style, and weaponry. We suspected that no more than a dozen of these had been built. Our scans showed undefined materials, which was the primary reason we couldn''t recreate them. I have no doubt that many of our secret and not-so-secret operations were to get intel on that specific class of ship.


    I salivated at the thought of piloting one of those. It had solar sails like most Introvert ships, but it sported the best DEAD drives created, or so the Introverts


    As I gawked at it, the ships started flying again, escorting the Valkyrie practically right into my lap. Two of the fighter ships landed on the nearest landing pad, a very small pad suited for a very small asteroid, along with the Valkyrie.


    This was a dream come true for many pilots. I had seen the pictures of ships like this, but nothing compares to being up close. I desperately wanted to be on that ship to hear its engines hum. The ship had sharp lines, the front was like a dagger, with two arrowheads on either side. It was the same color as the black of space, but reflective to the point that to the visual eye alone, it would be hard to detect. Supposedly, these could go into a stealth mode that made them virtually undetectable.


    And here was one. Here in the middle of nowhere. But apparently nowhere was actually somewhere.


    Somewhere important.


    I approached from a crouch. I consider myself great at sneaking around. In fact, I was surprised they had made me a Wavepilot instead of an #infiltrator. Maybe that was repercussions for the time I filled some of the air ducts on Sovereign Starbase with balloons. I swear it was for a training mission. When they popped, everyone thought they were under attack. They ran, and they ran, and they ran.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I chuckled, then focused on the Valkyrie.


    My chances of sneaking into their base directly were slim. I saw one entrance. Yes, there would probably be an escape route somewhere, but that would mean two entrances at most, especially for a compound so small. I would be better able to sneak into the ship. People in the compound would know each other. There would be protocols, security.


    But I was guessing the Valkyrie was a special guest. That meant newer people meeting newer people. I could blend in more easily.


    I got closer to the landing pad and hid behind one of the refueling tanks, closest to the Valkyrie ship, but positioned between the ship and the compound.


    Pilot uniforms are pretty universal, and mine was of the simple and generic sort, so I could probably safely pass for an Introvert unless they got super curious. I really wished I had an Infiltrator uniform. Those have a higher percentage of nanobots and can shift to emulate other uniforms. It''s pretty cool.


    I waited until the landing bay doors of the Valkyrie opened, then strode out onto the platform. It would look like I had come from inside the compound. My goal was for the Valkyrie crew to think I was there because I was stationed at the base, and for the fighter pilots to think I was part of the Valkyrie crew.


    But honestly, I didn''t care what they thought. We were on this remote asteroid in the Hilda''s Triangle. If I just stood around and acted like I belonged there, no one would question me. So I did just that. I walked out casually and nodded when someone looked at me.


    This became easier when the doors to the compound opened. Two ship technicians appeared, walking toward the fighters. The fighter pilots approached them, and then the four of them gestured at their ships and talked briefly before the technicians went about their work, and the two pilots approached us. A pair of soldiers also exited the compound and now stood at the entrance.


    I walked up behind and to the side of three members of the Valkyrie crew. A ship that size likely had a crew of 10 to 20 people. I made sure to acknowledge them as I approached, in that "hey there" everything is normal kind of way.


    My heart monitor showed a spike, with a heart icon and up arrow appearing in the upper left of my hud. I dismissed it. You try not being nervous in this type of situation.


    pilot1: "@moonqueen sends her greetings. We''re here to escort Chief Master Bigwig Sergeant @bronzelion to see her."


    valkyrieperson1: "Yes, of course."


    He gestured to the ship and Chief Master Bigwig Sergeant @bronzelion appeared.


    This was huge.


    Not only was I standing in the shadows of a Valkyrie, but the Chief Master Bigwig Sergeant was here. This dude is essentially in charge of their starmada personnel. He advises, arguably, the most important military person they have, the chief of starmada operations.


    @bronzelion was dressed in an advanced techsuit suitable for leadership rank. As much as I laugh at the thought that someone who probably doesn''t directly participate in battles much gets the most awesome gear, they are the leaders after all. And you don''t get there by sitting in front of screens. @bronzelion was a warrior. I wondered if the Valkyrie was his escort ship, or just his ship that he still took into battle.


    His suit was deep blue (not bronze), and I spotted arm and leg implants, a slim booster pack that would allow him to fly around. If you told me he was a robot, I would have said, "Sure, looks like a robot. Smells like a robot. Probably a robot."


    He didn''t say anything. He didn''t have to. When he appeared, everyone scattered into movement.


    Chief Master Bigwig Sergeant @bronzelion strode toward the compound, the pilots rushing to keep up. Two of his crew followed him. I got the sense that no one really escorted @bronzelion anywhere.


    And he was probably a dick to people.


    I jumped into action as well. As soon as the Chief Master Bigwig Sergeant was on his way, the remaining Valkyrie crew member turned to go back to the ship. I had to follow someone. Security at the compound would be tight, so I knew my best shot was to tag along with the Valkyrie person.


    I kicked off a subroutine to consider possible places to stash a memoryshard. These memories needed to be preserved at all costs.


    And I needed a plausible story if I was going to get on that ship.

 1.10 - The Valkyrie

    kittyboy: "You have a ship engineer onboard?"


    I asked the Valkyrie crew member, whom I shall call @valleyman.


    valleyman: "Of course."


    kittyboy: "Excellent. Can you take me to them? We get heavy gravitational waves that disrupt an asteroid this small. Have had some ships get dark matter annihilation problems in consumption. Not a huge deal, but we''ve seen quantum spikes to the blockchain that prevent DEAD drives from working."


    I was talking out of my ass, but I was also kind of thinking aloud about what could have caused my DEAD from working when I tried to bubble earlier (now, that ended up being rather fortunate considering what I discovered, but it still bothered me). I admit that I don''t know that much about science. Jargon, jargon, jargon. Throw in the word quantum for good measure. It was mostly nonsense. I didn''t think I''d be able to get any outbound signals to pull information off the network, so nonsense it was.


    I kept rambling, getting more heated and concerned, trying to irritate @valleyman enough to want to offload me to someone else - in this case, the ship engineer.


    valleyman: "Yeah, yeah. I get you. I''ll take you to @stardvark."


    On the inside, the Valkyrie was chic but no-nonsense. This was a clean ship, designed with purpose, beauty, and function. The floor was the color of dark metal, but I can only describe it as soft. It looked like they put an overlay atop the metal, so it was firm but comfortable and grippy. The side panels and machinery up to the ceiling were a lighter gray metallic.


    Walls and ceilings were white in the hallways, where the light was bright but not unpleasant. Every room with a terminal quickly pivoted to dim lighting, and the walls, ceiling, and floor were black to reduce the light further. Small lights on the ground showed just enough for you to keep your bearings. All the chairs were leather, the organish-yellowish color of butternut squash.


    As this was a 10 to 20 person ship, mostly they would have a medical wing, a small mess hall that was probably intermixed as a game room or lounge, a dorm area, a command center, a small armory, an engine room, and a cockpit. Probably they had a few holding cells as well.


    I kept mumbling the whole way.


    kittyboy: "If you don''t flip the discomfort imbalancer for that situation, the spark you get from the flange imbulator creates enough energy to short out the other chip."


    kittyboy: "When that happens, you''re in upsy downsy electromagnetic flow, and the capacitors aren''t built for that over a long period of time."


    kittyboy: "So you see? At some point, it''s just going to decentralize."


    kittyboy: "How can you possibly annihilate dark matter then?!?"


    @valleyman got me to the hall where the engine room was. They pointed over to the right and started walking away.


    valleyman: "@stardvark''s down that way."


    kittyboy: "Thank you. Remember! Don''t stick your finger in the ..."


    A door closed behind the fleeing @valleyman cutting me off.


    "Turbuloculator," I finished out loud.


    That wasn''t so hard after all.


    Now that I was alone, I could technically take my chances wandering the ship. However, since I had a reason to be in the engine room already established, and someone who would vouch for me since they left me all by myself, I figured my best move was @stardvark, so I walked toward the engine room.


    #LyingRule 5: when in doubt, follow the existing lie. It''s easier than establishing another lie.


    kittyboy: "@stardvark i assume."


    I waved. @stardvark looked like what I figured an old Alcubierre Drive would look like. He''d been expanded and contracted too many times. He was old and thin, and he walked like a squirrel (not an aardvark).


    Somehow his beard and mustache were dark brown, while his hair was entirely white-ish gray. He wore yellow engineering scrubs, with lots of pockets, hooks, straps, slots, and attachments. Yellow was supposedly to make them easier to see if they got stuck out in space.


    It was extremely rare to find someone in an older person''s body. It''s acceptable to port your mind into a younger version of yourself, to pick the age you want your clone to be. At least, it is for many people. Not for me. The Extrovert Starmada picks my optimal age based on the mission. We''ve also solved the aging problem with our wonderful nanobot technology.


    Finding an old person in military service meant that they were extremely important or they were cloned to be old by design. Some people believed that allowing your clone to age was more authentic, so they embraced the aging process. In the military, you needed a high rank or special connections for that to be allowed.


    I hadn''t really formed a philosophical opinion on that myself, if I wanted to age. It was irrelevant for me. The starmada decided my age and gave my anti-aging nanobots, so that was that. But, I admit, aging could lend itself to being more authentically human. Ashfield''s Law of Authenticity certainly supported it.


    Long story short, @stardvark was old, and that fascinated me.


    stardvark: "Hello. Welcome to the heart of the Eternis."


    The Eternis! Awesome name! I approved.


    I needed something to talk with @stardvark about, so I figured I might as well complain about the DEAD engine problem on my i35.


    #LyingRule 1: when you need to lie, use the truth.


    kittyboy: "Thank you. I''m honored. Just checking in with you."


    kittyboy: "We''ve had reports of DEAD malfunctions on a few ships in the area. No clear diagnosis yet. When attempting to bubble, the DEAD is unresponsive."


    @stardvark said something I didn''t quite understand, but he sounded like he might know what was going on.


    stardvark: "All this to say, it''s probably the quantum battery. People post about this stuff all the time online, and it''s always the quantum battery. Nanospark plug? Maybe. But did you try replacing the battery?"


    I had not. My ship was blown up.


    kittyboy: "Yes, I did. Still no luck."


    I needed to get him to do something, anything to keep him occupied, so I could try uploading a memoryshard and accessing ship logs.


    kittyboy: "I was thinking, could you run a diagnostic and send it over to us? I''ve been collecting readings to run statistical analysis on the problem. Since you just arrived, whatever it is might show up now compared to an older report."


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    I was happy that this all seemed to actually make sense. Well done, me.


    kittyboy: "If you can send an older report from before you arrived too, that would be fantastic."


    @stardvark rubbed at his arms, thinking, then nodded a few times to himself and started moving to one of the consoles.


    stardvark: "Suppose there''s no harm. It''ll take several minutes to run. Who should I send it to?"


    Shit.


    kittyboy: "Tell you what. I''ll sit with you, if you don''t mind, while it runs. Then you can just dump it to a datashard. That way I can completely eradicate it when I''m done."


    @stardvark shrugged and got to work. I sat at a nearby console, pretending not to notice the little ports to plug into. I gave him a few minutes before making small talk (or big talk).


    kittyboy: "Must be nice to work on a Valkyrie."


    stardvark: "Why, thank you."


    stardvark: "I mean, it IS nice, but I''m actually a shipbuilder by trade. Most of this is my design."


    kittyboy: "So even nicer to be able to work on it."


    stardvark: "Yes, yes. I keep playing around with it. Swapping modules is a bit more laborious, but I''ve customized the Eternis a bit. Played around a lot with the settings and configurations. I even added another ship mode to her."


    kittyboy: "No way!"


    stardvark: "Yes sir, I did. Now we have (1) cruise, (2) battle, (3) stealth, (4) help, and a mode I call (5) obliteration."


    That sounded so fucking cool that I wanted to hug him.


    kittyboy: "What is obliteration mode!?!"


    stardvark: "It routes all the power to weapons, shields, jamming, and engines. Basically, you are fast, agile, and extremely powerful, but also a jamming tank of a beast."


    kittyboy: "Why not run that way all the time?"


    He shook his head at me.


    stardvark: "You didn''t listen. I said all the power. There''s nothing left for gravity controls, heating and air conditioning, you name it. All the life support systems go offline. But that and some recalibration of settings and the Eternis is unstoppable. She''s a flat out MACHINE."


    I thought about that. Made sense. You''d be on a time clock for obliteration mode, but it would be worth it for the time you could use it.


    I was about to ask him why you couldn''t just get more power from somewhere else. Couldn''t you just plug in another quantum battery or something? But I suspected it was something so basic, so fundamental, that if I asked, it would give up my cover.


    So I just nodded.


    kittyboy: "Brilliant!"


    stardvark: "Program''s running. Can I get you some coffee? Or tea? While we wait. I am personally fond of tea and keep a stash of some unique blends."


    kittyboy: "Sure. Tea would be wonderful. Mint or any green tea is fine. A spoon of sugar too."


    kittyboy: "Actually, I take that back. Surprise me."


    stardvark: "I have an oolong tea from a farm deep in the fault canyons of Miranda, aged in silicate rock, that will be perfect."


    @stardvark smiled and hopped to it. He slapped me on the shoulder as he walked by, then was off down the hall. I imagined he was headed to the mess hall or lounge area. Based on the ship layout, he would have to go up a level and left. I probably had at least five minutes and at most seven while he prepared the tea.


    So, now was my moment. I reached for my left arm, grabbed a qwire, and plugged in.


    I needed to authenticate.


    Not a problem. I had lifted an ID signature off of @valleyman while I was boring him to death with gibberish. I really just needed that way in. AI algorithms and a bit of self-direction would take care of the rest. As I said before, I can tell the future. But that''s not the important part. The important part is how I do it.


    I can run multiple scenarios, and I can run more scenarios than most, and my scenarios are better because I see connections better than most. This is a unique trait of my brain. I just see connections that others don''t. Give that ability a supercomputer, and I''m a precious commodity.


    In hindsight, I''ve probably undersold myself to the Extrovert Starmada and masked too many of my capabilities. There was also the time I was licking suckers and sticking them to switches all over the starbase. The Extrovert Starmada frowns on things like that. I had my work cut out for me if I wanted to get on their good side.


    I just wanted a quiet life honestly. Being a Wavepilot was not it though, so I made a resolution there, on that Valkyrie ship. I needed to start impressing my superiors. Even being on the Valkyrie would be huge, but no one would know unless I could get the information somehow into the hands of the starmada.


    It only took about 87 seconds for me to find what I was looking for, the reason Chief Master Bigwig Sergeant @bronzelion was here for a visit.


    I played the log, all while replicating a bit of myself and these memories into data storage on the computer, along with a little catnip virus that I set to activate after the Eternis made 144 warp jumps.


    transmission_id: Ik1NJy2xTgd1g3ZOihZcXip


    @bronzelion, your presence is requested at Starlab 41665.1.


    We have successfully completed zos612 sample of the zombie_os virus. Unlike prior strains, we believe we have now been able to encode the virus with the capability of infiltrating the host''s genetic code such that a future clone of the infected would perform a delayed release and reactivation.


    In addition, this strain contains the zos572 enhancement that allows for physical and digital proximity replication and DDoS defense.


    This means the virus can actively seek open networks and search for the host based on genetic code. Indefinitely - or until found and deleted.


    In short, this creates a personalized version of the virus that can infect any future version of an aiways, making them an overtaken (what most people basely refer to as zombies).


    Once any clone with matching genetic identifiers connects to a network where its personal virus strain resides, it will get infected and eventually become overtaken. We have added a randomly delayed release to obfuscate how they got the virus, meaning the virus will be latent upon first infection. The infected will not know they have zos612 unless they detect it via a deep scan.


    zos612 will activate in an infected aiways anywhere from one day to seven years after the initial infection.


    That''s right, @bronzelion.


    The zombies are coming!


    I know you will be eager to see them.


    We are ready.


    @moonqueen, Chief Master Sergeant, Biodata Services


    And that was just the latest entry. There were hundreds of messages. The Introvert scientists had been working on this for years. We had seen some attempts at this before - trying to hack and take over an aiways'' mind. In some cases it even succeeded on small scales. But if a zombie_os virus could do what they were describing, that could win the war.


    I kept scanning, and rapidly summarizing logs. There was a video.


    I cringed as they showed one of the infected aiways, a round man with a blank expression, holding a cord with a grapple-like extremity, chasing a woman around a room. She was locked in there. Screaming.


    She probably had never screamed so much in her life.


    I paused the video and checked my timer. I needed to wrap up. But you know me and my curiosity. I needed to know. I needed what was happening to sync in. I pressed play again.


    She dodged. She ran. He wouldn''t stop. And she knew he wouldn''t stop. She was trying to stay out of the corners. And she had figured out that if she ducked, she could get around him.


    So she did. She ducked and moved gracefully, if you can say that about someone screaming frantically. Short red hair. Nothing for the man to grab there. Lean and agile. She had the advantage there.


    But she would know that she was getting tired. He would not.


    It was hard to watch. I didn''t need my futurecasting to know what was going to happen. He was tiring her out without even trying to tire her out.


    Finally he got enough of a grip on her arm. She couldn''t move.


    I UNPLUGGED.


    I was sweaty. My heart was racing.


    I had to blink several times and wipe my face to bring myself back to the engine room of the Eternis.


    My legs were shaking. I sat, counting my breaths. Telling myself that whatever happened in Starlab 41665.1 needed to be stopped. I needed to make sure my memories were found.


    But I had done what I could. My upload and download were finished the moment I had unplugged. I was done.


    "It''s okay," I said, calming myself. "I''m done. I did it."


    All I could do now was hope that we, the Extrovert Starmada, were clever enough, or lucky enough, to find my memoryshard or the bits of it I stashed in the computer system. If that failed, I had to rely on my catnip virus to do its job and reach out to me.


    There was nothing more to do now, really, except to die.


    "Time to die." I perked myself up, shaking out my arms, motivating myself. "let''s do this."


    I could have self-destructed, but this ship was too beautiful for that.


    "I''m the end of the world," I shouted instead. I sprang from my chair, took off down the hall, and went for what I figured was the command center.


    "The end of the world is me!" I hissed. "Bow down or face my fury! I shall destroy you all!"


    It honestly took longer than I thought to get myself killed. I must have done three loops around a corridor where the lounge, command center, and armory converged. Maybe it was because I was screaming, and they found that fascinating. So I shook one of them.


    "You''re made of ice! And I am the heat lamp!" I screamed. I shook him again. "I am the heat lamp!!!"


    I finally noticed @stardvark come into the area, with two glasses of tea. When he saw me, he nearly dropped them.


    I gave him a pleading look, then charged.


    "Obliteration mode is my mode!" I yelled at him.


    He calmly set down the tea, pulled out a shotgun, and blasted a hole through my chest.

 2.1 - Zombies

    I''m glad it was @stardvark who shot me. We ended up being good friends, and it offers me no end to teasing him about it. In his defense, he claims I was being "unreasonable."


    Anyway, now that you know how I got that hole in my chest, let''s get back to where we were. I was in the center of the basement of Starlab 41665.1, and I had just pulled the #memoryshard out of my dead body. Not the memoryshard and catnip virus I had uploaded into the ship''s computer mind you. That Valkyrie ship was probably long gone by now.


    <hr>


    I saw them moving in the room before the memories struck me.


    We weren''t alone.


    "M o t h e r f u c k e r," I whispered, rotating away from my dead body.


    I wondered how I had missed them before.


    I took a moment to curse Ashfield''s Law of Authenticity. Developed in the early days of human to biotic AI conversion, Ashfield''s Law places a value on human traits, including some that have historically been seen as shortcomings but now are thought to contribute to our evolution. Things like "general gut feel," imprecision, misspellings, slang, etc. are now valued. If you use fewer tech-enabled senses beyond your human body, you are being more authentic. If you tune into all the sensors of a machine''s AI-enabled comprehension, you are being inauthentic.


    No one wants to be accused of being a machine.


    Many aiways live in human bodies for those reasons. But even then, there are degrees of awareness, of shutting off the tech. It''s customary to "unplug" a little. Not completely. We usually just call it #lowpowermode. To truly "unplug" would make us essentially fully human - or as close as we could get.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    But shit. My adherence to Ashfield''s Law could get me killed. It''s not the first time I''ve thought that. Maybe if I had prioritized my sensors over my body''s authenticity, I would have picked up more inputs, seen the disaster before it unfolded. Being in the military, I was allowed to scale up to being more machine than human, to some extent, but we never felt good about it. Or maybe I did, but didn''t admit it.


    I shook it off. It wouldn''t have made any difference, I told myself. My attention had been completely on my other body, the dead one hanging in that beautiful blue light. I was fixated on that.


    I didn''t need my futurecasting to tell me that this was a trap. I saw dozens and dozens of dark shapes shifting in the background, coming toward me. I had to alert the others.


    kittyboy: "@here, it''s a trap! Zombies! #important"


    I broadcasted a summary of my memory of the log and an image from the video of the red head being pursued in the locked room.


    shadowhacker: "I''m not picking up anything."


    kittyboy: "You will! Get out of here! Everyone!"


    And then it seemed like every bit of power in the starlab turned itself on simultaneously. It was a flood of the senses, literally. I went from the darkness to blazing light, electromagnetic waves, sonar charges. All my sensors were overloaded with inputs and interference.


    I couldn''t see, hear, or sense anything. But I knew they were coming for me.


    So I unplugged.


    I felt less alive and more alive at the same time. Suddenly it was just me. I wasn''t backing up my memories anymore. I couldn''t sync memories with the others in the hopes that one of us would get out. I couldn''t even send any messages to the rest of the firesquad in this state without typing or saying something to the comms unit.


    But I could somehow feel my breath and my heartbeat even more. Sure, I could still be reanimated, and the Extrovert Starmada would put the latest version they had of me in there. But now I felt the true risk of death, the rawness of a human death, and the desire NOT to die.


    I felt more real, more present in the universe. I was not just the center of my world. I was the entirety of my world now. I was everything. Right here.


    More importantly, my tactic worked. I was still slightly blinded by the brightness and deafened by the sounds echoing the room, but it was more manageable with only human inputs to orient myself and get moving.


    Besides, I shoot better when I''m not paying attention, when it''s more gut than science. So, despite my predicament, I laughed as I pulled out the glen10 pistol and started firing.

 2.2 - The Doom Room

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Thud!


    Bam! Zombie headshot.


    Bam! Bam! Bam!


    Phump!


    Bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam click click click.


    bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam click click.


    bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam click click click.

 2.3 - Snakeskin

    I tumbled to the ground, feeling the weight of the zombie pound against me as I hit the hard floor. I won''t lie. I shrieked.


    I didn''t know a ton about this zombie virus. The premise of any virus is simple. Think of it like any computer virus designed to either control you, steal the information silently, destroy the information, or render you useless.


    But if I were to build a virus, and I was feeling a bit amused with myself or sadistic, I would also program the zombies to eat your brains. I mean, that was the whole idea of a zombie virus back in the organic days. Eat human brains.


    Those types of viruses have crept up since the AI evolution, but they are usually made by some hacker whose code isn''t hard to break.


    My point is, the zombie that tackled me was all over me. I could feel its breath against my neck, a drip of saliva. I could feel its body struggling against me. I could feel its arm wrapping around my waist. And I was fucking scared out of my mind.


    My momentum had carried me toward the door''s opening. I could see a small sliver where, if I could just grab it and pull, I would be able to get it open. I hoped desperately that @cyberneticflare and @photon_binary were there.


    I prayed to @cockadoodle_doodoodoo, the three-headed rooster god of AI hallucinations (aka @3Beak), that my two firesquad mates would storm through the door, that @cyberneticflare would throw some kind of kickass bomb into the room while @photon_binary played with his scanner.


    But first thing''s first. I had to get that zombie off of me. It started to lift its weight. No way was I going to let some zombie ram a wire into my brain. Or worse. Its head was so close I could feel its lips tickle my ear. I shuddered.


    I gathered my arm and threw a wild adrenaline fueled elbow at it.


    "Get me out of here," a woman''s voice whispered in my ear, just as my elbow connected with its gut. I heard the grunt, in an all too normal and human sounding way, as it rolled off to the side.


    Oops.


    Well, fuck.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    How was I supposed to know?


    My panic only mildly subsided. Sure, now at least I knew this wasn''t a zombie trying to take over my brain, but the rest of the zombies were pulling themselves out of the pile tripping bodies. I reset my panic button and started the timer. Six seconds to terror.


    I didn''t waste time getting up. I stretched my arms for the door, grabbed the bottom, and tugged, pulling it open. As I pulled, I used the weight of the door to also pull my body, doing a nifty little roll to my feet.


    "Ta da!" I yelled, standing tall, throwing my arms out to my sides in a triumphant magician''s gesture, while I surveyed the room behind me. The first few zombies, about ten paces away, were coming toward me now.


    I yelped.


    Then a sweaty hand grabbed mine, and my yelp briefly became a screech. These unplugged human bodies are just full of surprises.


    The woman was still slightly doubled over, but her hand grasped mine firmly as she raised herself to her feet.


    In the blinding light, I could see her almost properly. She looked up at me as she climbed to her feet, her skin the color of coffee with cream, her face resolute and somehow emanating hope. And I''ll never forget those eyes, the pupils shrunk to a dot, showcasing the full color of her irises, a striking violet shade that masked a hint of green toward the center.


    Her head was shaved on the left side, where exposed circuitry showed over parts of her skull. The rest was black curls, interlaced with color. The roots were a sea-green color that transitioned into the same violet as her eyes.


    I was sure that I was staring at her.


    "Stop staring at me and move!" she yelled in my face.


    Yes, I was staring at her. I glanced behind her. Three seconds to terror.


    She ran through the door. I turned to follow, and together we slammed the door shut. I held it firmly in place while she hustled over to the lock and secured it. I could feel the thuds and the shake of the door as the zombies on the other side amassed.


    The hallway outside was just as bright as the inside of the #doomroom had been. I sighed and cursed as the thuds continued, realizing that @cyberneticflare and @photon_binary were nowhere to be seen.


    "That won''t hold them for long," she said.


    I had so many questions, like where did she get that form fitting suit that looked like a silver snakeskin, the light reflecting off of it making my eyes hurt, but me finding myself unable to look away, like trying not to stare at an eclipse.


    "You were just, what, hanging out in there?" I said, instead of asking her to let me follow her around the universe. I hoped she wasn''t a horrible person, but I knew she might believe in all the things I hated. If that were the case, I''d have to put a bullet in that evil Introverted head of hers and hiss at her for making me catch my breath.


    "Stop staring and move," she yelled at me again, rushing past and shoving me in the shoulder.


    I was fine with her taking the lead. Not so I could stare at her, but because she seemed to know where she was going, and she had taken my gun.

 2.4 - Quantum Keys

    she wanted to go - not me. Also, in my panic of the doom room, I missed the fact that she was not in running shape.


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    Keep on the Sunny Side.


    uh oh vibes.


    not abandon her. Sure, it''s just death. Memories stashed; memories lost. Move on. But I felt icky all of a sudden and that didn''t sit well with me.

 2.5 - Answers

    "What are those for?" I asked, staring at the quantum keys in her hand.


    "You''ll see," she said, and proceeded to inspect her snakeskin outfit, I presume to find a place to store the keys.


    I''m very patient. But my futurecasting was all over the place, and my mental timer was telling me we had to hurry. That said, I wasn''t going to hurry into the unknown. My unsatisfied curiosity was getting the better of me, and I felt like I was going to snap if I didn''t find out what was going on.


    "You need to tell me what''s going on. I''m getting super frustricated, and you won''t like what happens next. I bite. I scratch." I pointed at her and scowled. "What are those keys for? Who are you?" I demanded.


    She raised an eyebrow at me, then stared.


    Silence.


    She continued to stare. I watched her violet eyes, the tint of green at the core. The beaming light highlighted the streaks of violet in her hair.


    So I stared back at her, matching her violet for what I assumed were my vibrant blue eyes. Take that! I thought to myself. I''m pretty good at staring contests.


    She winked at me.


    I shivered. She was cheating.


    And she continued to stare at me.


    "You have beautiful blue eyes," she said. She licked her lips.


    Fuck me! I thought, all too human thoughts flooding my brain, my heart rate noticeably accelerating.


    "Fuck you, demon!" I cursed at her.


    She staggered toward me, holding my gaze. In my peripheral vision I spotted the keys.


    "What? No pockets in that suit of yours," I joked.


    "You like my suit," she whispered, limping closer, eyes transfixed.


    "You shall not hypnotize me," I proclaimed. "Your womanly wiles are wasted on me."


    She was in touching distance. I could sense her breath before I felt it.


    "Womanly wiles," she laughed venomously, breathing on me. Her eyes were so close and mesmerizing, but her breath smelled foul, like she hadn''t had a chance to clean her teeth in months - because she probably hadn''t.


    "Ha ha," I said, pointing at her. "Your breath smells."


    I caught a slight shift in her face and posture, barely noticeable being unplugged. She actually looked like I had hurt her feelings, and I immediately regretted it. She had been locked up for who knows how long. But as soon as it had come, it had gone and she was back to her seductive staring.


    I stared harder. I held my hand out to keep her at bay.


    She retaliated by taking my outstretched hand and placing it on her hip.


    "Cheater!" I screamed.


    The snakeskin suit felt exactly like that, smooth but with reptilian scales that seemed hard and soft at the same time. I tried to ignore the curve of her hip as she came close again.


    "So, you don''t want to kiss me?" she said, another foul breath finding my nose.


    "No! But ... but ..." I stuttered, making an ucky face at her. I tried to think of something to say back other than your breath is disgusting and I''m going to vomit. Instead, I just kept stuttering like a fool at her.


    She moved my hand around to the back. "What about my butt?" she said.


    I walked right into that one, butt it was worth it (Hahahaha! Get it? "But?"). She was winning this battle. Stupid human body! I wanted my tech back to distract myself from human chemistry.


    "But," I said, and then my brain shut off. I had no idea what to say.


    "That''s my butt," she said, matter of factly. She was trying not to snicker uncontrollably at me.


    "But," I said again. Her stupid eyes were magnificent.


    Then I finally managed to say something logical, trying to tap into my survival instinct instead of my self-destruct instinct. "We should get out of here. You''re limping. You can lean on me."


    "Lean?" she asked. "Like this?" She moved up close.


    Oh, this is going to be bad for me, I thought.


    She had just brushed up against me the slightest, before she kneed me harshly in the groin and shoved me to the ground.


    The fuck. I had seen it coming, and I didn''t care.


    I was doubled over, but I held onto my glen10 this time. I looked up at her, planting a hand on the ground and tried to rise.


    She punched me in the face.


    I hit the floor again. I was not happy anymore. Playful game of staring contest? Yeah right. But I suppose that''s what I deserved for putting a small bit of trust in an Introvert. My nose was bleeding. My eyes were tearing up. In the bright light, my tears made what little I could see take on rainbow highlights. I could make out her shape slightly as I felt my way along the floor to find something to help me get to my feet.


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    That''s when she hit me again, not with her fist this time.


    When I woke up, I screamed. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!¡± I screamed. It''s instinct really. But I quickly realized that I was not in the reanimation chamber.


    I was happy about that actually because it meant I still had my memories. Frustrated? Yes, because I remembered snake woman beating me up. I checked for my gun. It was gone. And taking my gun.


    I also remembered that I was in a creepy blindingly bright lab with zombies, this time with no weapon, and I was offline, and I was alone with no idea what happened to the rest of the #firesquad.


    On the positive side, the starlab was empty still in this part of the facility. I sat up and listened for aberrations between the repeated noises the starlab was blasting to overwhelm our senses. Nothing. Snake woman probably didn''t go back the way we came, which meant she went the other direction. Her injury would slow her down, so I had a good chance of catching up.


    The sensation of being injured while offline was not new to me, but it had been a long time. Not since the fractal burn on asteroid 1356b. Catching fire isn''t fun. Or it might have been that time I suffocated in the ion cloud outside of Ceres. That also sucked. And those were just the times I remembered.


    I couldn''t run a diagnostic, but I didn''t need one to realize my head hurt. I probably had a concussion. Regardless, I could walk. I could see. I could think. And I could run from zombies. Most importantly, I could run off to catch up with my snakeskin frenemy and get my gun back.


    I turned left and skipped, because I prefer skipping and can cover a lot of ground quickly and joyfully, off toward where my offline human intuition told me she would go. Not as great as my futurecasting, but still pretty great. Sometimes I really love how my brain works. I maybe don''t have as great a human memory as other people, but when it comes to thinking about the future, assembling bits of information, pure thought, I''m all over it.


    I skipped up to her as she was pushing open a door to another wing of the starlab and slowed so as to not draw her attention. I jammed my fingers just slightly through the door to prevent it from closing. The booming noises and blinding lights from the starlab''s sensory overload would make me harder to see and hear. I had the advantage this time.


    Or so I thought. I paused, waiting for my moment to open the door and tackle her, when the door opened and slammed down on my fingers.


    "Motherfucker!" I shouted, wincing and grabbing at my hand. Thank @3Beak it was my left hand.


    Angry kitty mode activated.


    I was pissed. I rage flung the door open. She was standing ready to hit me again, but thankfully didn''t seem to want to shoot me with my gun. I was ready and enraged. She was ready but hurt.


    She moved to punch me, and I slapped her arm away with my left wrist. Wax off! I screamed to myself, doing a perfect Karate Kid defense move. I''m not subtle or agile when I''m mad. I headbutted her. She winced and fell back against the wall. I didn''t let her gain any distance.


    "Lean close???" I screamed, and I punched her in the gut before she could recover. That was mean. I felt horrible about it. She was injured in the side, and I hit her close to the injury. Her yelp was palpable and all too real in my human ears.


    But she started it. I''ll just keep telling myself that to feel okay with it.


    I stared at her angrily. "I need exposition!" I shouted, stepping forward to grab her wrists while she recovered. I noticed she had dropped my gun, but I wasn''t about to let that distract me. She was too quick.


    She punched me in the face again. Okay, so maybe I was distracted.


    "Motherfucker!" I yelled again, holding a hand to my left eye, staggering backwards.


    She braced herself against the wall, panting, still clearly in pain, but she was a tough snake all right. "You first!" she spat, gritting her teeth in pain, fists still raised, the wall supporting her weight while her eyes studied me.


    We needed to stop fighting and get the hell out of here. I knew that. She knew that. At this point, I think she realized that it was going to be we or she''d have to shoot me. I got the sense that she was leaning toward the side of shooting me. But luckily, neither of us had the gun.


    I made a snap decision to trust her. Because I''m an idiot.


    "@kittyboy. Extrovert. Wavepilot," I shouted in rapid fire succession. "Investigating creepy lab in our part of space. Trying not to die because zombies. Zombies!"


    She nodded, catching her breath, the half of her head with hair bobbing along. She brushed a mess of curls away from her face. "@auroraloon. Introvert. They were using me for tests."


    She crossed her arms at me, like that was that. Then made off down the hallway, leaning against the wall. She shouted over her shoulder. "I know a way out."


    This was progress. I reached down to pick up the glen10, and stepped in alongside her.


    "Okay, @auroraloon. What about the suit and the keys? That looks high tech. Doubt they''d play test dummy with you wearing whatever that is."


    She paused. My punch hadn''t helped her injury at all. We were stupid for fighting, but that''s Introverts and Extroverts for you.


    "Tell me as we walk," I demanded. "Which way?"


    "Left," she said. "Then two rights, a left, and up a stairway half a level. There''s an emergency exit."


    I gestured for her to follow, and we got moving.


    "I remember being in one of the rooms," @auroraloon reflected. "I don''t know how I got there. They must have removed the virus from me. I don''t know. I have flashes of fighting, of different people''s faces, of body parts, of blood. I remember waking up in a different room. I don''t know how much time passed."


    "I could probably figure it out by looking at how much the roots of my hair have grown out, before the color starts," she added. "But all I know is that when I woke up they had me strapped to a table. Then suddenly everyone started packing up. Emergency evacuation. Protocol 6, they said."


    She shook her head at me. I continued on down the hall.


    "No," she said, shaking her head again and waving at me. "Right here."


    "What''s right here?" I asked.


    "Right. Right here." She grunted in frustration. "To your right. We go to the right. The opposite of left."


    "Oh," I said. "Right. Thought you were shaking your head because, you know, trauma and horribleness."


    "No, you''re just bad at directions. But yes, horribleness."


    I was offended.


    "I''m offended," I said. "I have an excellent sense of direction. The best in fact. The sun is that way." I pointed down and to my right. "But I suck at following directions."


    "The sun is that way, you idiot." @auroraloon pointed up and to her left, with her middle finger wagging at me.


    I shook my head with rigor. "Whatever," I spat. "It works when I''m outside. I''m all turned around in here."


    "R i g h t ..." she said, nodding her mocking head at me.


    Urgh! This was frustrating! I really do have great sense of direction, I swear.


    "The suit? The keys?" I prompted.


    "I''m getting there," she replied. Down the blindingly lit hall we continued, @auroraloon in her mini-sun outfit blazing the way. "I heard them talk about escaping. Two of them were arguing about spacecycles. One wanted to take them. The other said no. They didn''t have the range to get them out of Extrovert space."


    Spacecycles! That was awesome! Yeah, the range wasn''t too great. You could hop around a few moons or asteroids and have a blast doing it. They had solar power backup, but it was very low power, emergency only type of thing, unless you were really close to the sun.


    "So the keys? Spacecycles," I said. "And the suit?"


    "I found it in one of the labs," she said offhandedly. "They just left me here. I got free and was looking for the keys."


    I wanted to believe her, but there was still a lot that didn''t make sense to me. The suit fit too well. She knew where the keys to the spacecycles were. But my terror-o-meter was telling me we needed to keep moving, so I dropped it.


    "Left here," she said.


    "What was left here?" I said, looking around. "I don''t see anything."


    "Noooo," @auroraloon groaned. "We go left."


    I laughed. "I know. I''m just tormenting you."


    Sometimes my sense of timing is bad because as I giggled at her, her eyes widened, full of violet fear. The noise behind me told me the zombies were coming. Shuffle shuffle. Groan groan.


    "Well, we should hurry," she said. "That way."


    She pointed to the right.


    "But you said, Noooo, we go left," I repeated.


    "I was tormenting you," she chuckled, and hobbled quickly down the right corridor.

 2.6 - Panic and Power

    When you''ve died a lot, you learn not to panic. But I stand behind the idea that being chased by zombies is a completely different level of near-death experience, so I panicked properly.


    I lifted my arms above my head and waved them around as I jogged down the hall, wailing, "Ahhhhhhhhh!"


    @auroraloon had said two rights, a left, and up some stairs. That meant at some point we would go left. I looked around me, trying to make out the way in the blinding lights. But with all the corridors and rooms on this level of the starlab, I knew it was foolish to forge ahead on my own. Plus, I didn''t want to be the one to get us lost. She would mock me so hard that I''d probably have to shoot her.


    So, I walked backwards, with my glen10 ready to fire. @auroraloon stumbled her way as quickly as she could, her snakeskin making her a reflective sunbeam, a human disco ball that sent rainbow colors all around her. I just needed to stay close to all the sparkles to know she was nearby.


    "That would be a great outfit for parties," I said.


    I have no doubt she rolled her eyes again. "You know, you don''t have to talk." She sounded out of breath, and I wondered just how bad her injuries were.


    "Making conversation before I die soothes my nerves," I replied. "And you have to admit, it''s not looking great for us." We walked into what seemed to be in a larger room. I hoped we hit that left turn soon.


    She surprised me and played along. "I''d like to see you dressed as a pi?ata."


    "Well, I am full of candy."


    "You sure you''re not full of shit."


    I had to hand it to @auroraloon. She was great at banter.


    I laughed. "Whack me with a stick, and you''ll find out."


    "Just give me a stick," she quipped. I knew she was panting from her injuries, but the way she said that made every part of my body tingle.


    I had a great reply planned, having to do with sticks and candy, with maybe a bit too much sexual innuendo for the situation, but then the first zombies started to catch up. My humor is wasted on emergencies.


    I squinted in the brightness and then unfocused to improve my aim, or rather, stopped aiming altogether. It took a few shots to down the first one, but after that I got comfortable.


    Unfortunately, I also needed to be mindful of my ammo. Unplugged, it was harder for me to keep count. I knew that I had gone through my original clip and two spares already thanks to my bullet tornado (but hey, I got out of that #doomroom, didn''t I?). I had just started on a fresh clip, but I only had one more clip on me. I figured I had about 34 shots left before I''d be completely out.


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    I dropped two more zombies when @auroraloon screamed. "Bodies!"


    I thought one or maybe two. I glanced behind me and saw several scattered around through my squinting eyes. @auroraloon stepped over one along the wall and turned left, out of my line of sight. I was entering into an open space where the corridors intersected. This was our last turn. I felt like we were so close, but somehow that wasn''t reassuring.


    We had to hurry.


    I took down another of the #overtaken from the direction we came and sprinted after @auroraloon.


    When I made the corner, my heart sank. It wasn''t just the several bodies. This was a junction point of carnage. This was a heap of bodies, some still moving on the floor. I wondered if this was @cyberneticflare and @photon_binary''s doing. Or maybe they had met up with @pixel_princess and @astrowave, I hoped.


    My thoughts were answered when a zombie appeared through the shining light across the intersection. It had no regard for its own safety. Openly exposed, me holding my glen10 square at its head, it charged forward. I recognized the uniform, and the stupid scanner slung across its chest. It was @photon_binary.


    No one would find out what really happened to @photon_binary, how he became one of the zombies. He was annoying, sure, but the empty look on his face as he charged at me, the uncharacteristic growl, made me sad. He was a scientist. Now he was overtaken, a mindless thing that only wanted to make more mindless things. I noticed a wire hanging loosely from his head. One of them must have finally gotten to him, plugged in, taken over.


    I pulled the trigger as the lights suddenly went out.


    First blinded by the light. Now blinded by the darkness.


    Luckily, my shot was true. I heard @photon_binary drop to the floor and felt his arm against my boot. I kicked him off of me and jumped back with a shriek, hurrying to find a wall to put my back against so that I could protect myself while my eyes recovered. His breath changed to a few gasps followed by silence.


    "Power is out again," I heard @auroraloon shout from somewhere off to my left and ahead of me.


    No shit, I wanted to say but held my tongue. I was focused on @photon_binary.


    I knew what I needed to do next, as long as I had time. I crept forward carefully in the dark and reached a trembling hand down to @photon_binary''s head. I fumbled around for where his mindspark would be. My hands were getting covered in his blood, and it was near impossible with gloves on, so I pulled off my right glove so I could root my hand around in his brain.


    I''m not a hero, really. This is just who we are. It''s the memories that matter. It was the least I could do for @photon_binary.


    I grimaced as I peeled back part of @photon_binary''s scalp on the right side with my utility knife, then dug my fingernails in toward where I''d blown his head open. It was gross. I was lucky I didn''t puke in my helmet. I dug around as quickly as I could, feeling through the bits and bone. I didn''t have time in the dark to be gentle, and he wouldn''t mind.


    Finally, I found it and pulled out a memoryshard. Eureka! I shook off the thought of @photon_binary''s final breaths, satisfied that at least I had his memories.


    I heard @auroraloon to my left, moving away down the dark hall, beyond what my adjusting eyes could see.


    Power is out, her voice repeated silently in my head.


    I suddenly realized my idiocy, grasping the gravity of what @auroraloon had said. "Power is out," I said with a laugh, and I plugged back in.

 2.7 - Reconnecting

    I missed being plugged in as much as I sometimes missed being unplugged. The two sensations are so different. One makes you feel smaller but bigger and more real, more grounded in the moment. The other, being plugged in, makes you feel bigger, more powerful, but somehow smaller in the ocean of information and the awareness, the closeness, of others in the world. Everyone was just a message away.


    I wasn''t fully online. Jamming signals prevented connecting to the #extronet, but my tech was working. Most importantly, I could back up my memories with the organic and technical aspects of my brain reconnected.


    My spacevision kicked in, and I could see again, but I wished I couldn''t. Based on the piles of zombie bodies, you could see that whoever was here had gone the way we were going. The trail of bodies and streaks of blood showed us the way. Whether we wanted to follow or not was another matter, but we didn''t have much choice.


    Not all of the overtaken here were dead. Some of the zombies were just dismembered. And now that we were here, they started to grasp, crawl, or claw in our direction. The sound itself was sickening, but I wasn''t going to waste any bullets on them, as desperately as I wanted to put them out of their misery.


    This looked like the work of Thunder Ops. Given my discovery of @photon_binary, I figured there was a good chance @cyberneticflare had been here working his magic with explosives. Fortunately, I didn''t spy anything with my sensors that resembled any of our party, other than @photon_binary. Why hadn''t he unplugged? I asked myself. But I knew the likely answer. He was probably overwhelmed before he had the chance.


    Being plugged in again also meant that I could fire off short-range comms to the rest of the firesquad, even though I was scared to do so, scared to find out what was happening.


    I sucked in my fear and blew out my courage. Or the opposite. You know. I gathered my courage and all that.


    I connected to our channel. Their datafeed came through in a burst.


    <hr>


    pixel_princess: "What did @kittyboy mean? Zombies?"


    shadowhacker: "Nothing on scans."


    pixel_princess: "Power surge!"


    shadowhacker: "OMG! ???¡á????¡á????¡á? Picking up hundreds in your area!"


    pixel_princess: "Trap! Sensors overloaded! Blind here."


    shadowhacker: "No longer picking up @kittyboy on scanners."


    cyberneticflare: "Fuck. @pixel, where are you?"


    pixel_princess: "Second floor. Five halls down. 20 paces from center."


    cyberneticflare: "Heading to you."


    astrowave: "We have activity!"


    shadowhacker: "@pixel and @astro you have a swarm in all directions. Can''t tell how many with the interference."


    pixel_princess: "Get out, @all! Rendezvous at the pod."


    shadowhacker: "Organizing reinforcements. Five minutes out."


    pixel_princess: "We won''t make it five minutes. @cyber, RUN!"


    shadowhacker: "Ship entering system."


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    shadowhacker: "Valkyrie! ??"


    pixel_princess: "Get out of there!"


    cyberneticflare: "Zombies! Changing route."


    pixel_princess: "Overwhelmed."


    pixel_princess: "Help! @cyberneticflare!"


    cyberneticflare: "@photon_binary, where are you? @all, he was just here."


    pixel_princess: "Sensors unreliable. @all, unplug! Unplug!"


    cyberneticflare: "Found something."


    cyberneticflare: "@here, anyone? Cornered in. No sign of @photon_binary."


    cyberneticflare: "Anyone?"


    cyberneticflare: "Goodbye. Signing out."


    ...


    pixel_princess: "Online. Anyone @here?"


    pixel_princess: "@shadowhacker?"


    pixel_princess: "@cyberneticflare?"


    pixel_princess: "@photon_binary?"


    pixel_princess: "@kittyboy?"


    pixel_princess: "We''re in the dark. Power is out."


    pixel_princess: "If anyone is out there, @astrowave and I are secured. Locked in a room. Second floor, far side. Can see the solar west stairwell. But overtaken are still everywhere."


    pixel_princess: "@here, anyone out there?"


    <hr>


    The transmission ended there. I was relieved. I had expected worse. I expected screams and pleas for help. This gave me some small bit of hope. Not much, but I''d take what I could get.


    kittyboy: "Testing. @auroraloon, do you have comms in that suit of yours?"


    auroraloon: "Yes."


    Good. At least the two of us could stay coordinated without speaking aloud. It would help if we needed to use stealth. I really hoped we could use stealth. I had enough bullets left for maybe one more firefight, or at least part of one. Enough at least to make a final run for it, where ideally "it" was an exit out of this place.


    I opened up the channel to our firesquad and gulped. Here goes.


    kittyboy: "@pixel_princess, I''m here."


    I waited, fingers crossed, praying for a response.


    kittyboy: "If you are where you were, @pixel_princess, we''re not far away. Down a level."


    I started a count to five. Her response came in at two.


    pixel_princess: "@kittyboy! What''s your status?"


    Thank @3Beak! They were alive!


    kittyboy: "I was overrun in the basement. Found my old body, if you can believe that. Will explain later."


    I planned on leaving out some bits, but they should at least know about my body being strung up there.


    kittyboy: "And I found a survivor. She knows a way out."


    astrowave: "A survivor?"


    kittyboy: "Yes. Or I guess she found me."


    pixel_princess: "@all, we can discuss later. We''ve lost contact with Celestial Roamer. It''s probably been destroyed. @shadowhacker said there was a Valkyrie in the system. Possible they made it out, but we shouldn''t count on it."


    I suspected the same, sadly. I wasn''t a huge fan of @horus but loss of ships and reanimating a crew, even a modest one, was not good for the starmada.


    pixel_princess: "This survivor. You say she knows a way out? Do you trust her?"


    I looked at @auroraloon as she struggled down the final passageway, along the trail of blood and bodies toward the stairs. She was venturing on ahead of me, with only me carrying a weapon. She hadn''t paused with me when I stopped for @photon_binary''s memoryshard. She was either reckless or she trusted that I would have her back when and if she needed me.


    Sure, she manipulated me and kneed me in the balls when I had asked for an explanation. Could I really argue with her for that?


    Hell yes, I could.


    She was hiding something, and I knew it. She knew I knew it. Then I felt stupid and sad all of a sudden. I engaged my futurecasting to reflect on the situation. Could I trust @auroraloon? It was more chaotic to me than normal. I seemed less focused around @auroraloon. That would improve my shooting, I chuckled. But the future seemed somehow right. My senses approved. My futurecasting told me it was logical that I would trust @auroraloon, Introvert or not, for better or worse.


    I added @auroraloon to the firesquad channel.


    ... @auroraloon has joined your chat.


    kittyboy: "I trust her. @auroraloon, meet the #firesquad."


    @auroraloon jumped, startled, when I messaged her from the group chat. She looked back at me, and with my spacevision active, I could see a more hopeful look, a sigh, a smile.


    auroraloon: "The solar west stairway has an escape exit and spacecycles. The entrance is halfway between levels. It''s a vented panel in the wall. You go down. We go up."


    I asked myself how @auroraloon knew this, but I pushed it back in my brain. Another question for later.


    pixel_princess: "Overtaken are everywhere around us. What''s your situation?"


    kittyboy: "Zombies behind. Carnage in front. Beyond that is unknown."


    pixel_princess: "Okay. You get there first. Ping us when you are there. We''ll need to make a run for it. We''ll be overrun if that escape panel isn''t open when we get there."


    kittyboy: "Copy. We''re moving."


    pixel_princess: "Be careful. They won''t want memories leaving this place."

 2.8 - Bananas

    They won''t want memories leaving this place.


    @pixel_princess''s words resonated in my head and made my terror counter speed up. If the Introverts had cleared out this facility, why hadn''t they blown it up? Would they blow it up? Did they want us to be here? Were we part of some experiment?


    None of the answers to those questions made me feel good.


    We had to get out of here. I now figured it was just a matter of time before either the facility exploded or the overtaken overtook us.


    I left the groaning piles of zombies behind me and made for the stairs, @auroraloon close behind. We had to step over body parts strewn about the stairwell and try not to slip on the bloodstained metal stairs as we made our ascent. Poor design, if you ask me, but I suppose it would be easy to clean.


    We didn''t care about stealth now, with zombies on our tail. I was grateful to be plugged in, able to see and hear properly, but I kind of wished for blissful ignorance. The zombies were close enough now that they were always in view, pressing our urgency us further.


    I motioned for @auroraloon to take the lead, while I did what I could to keep zombies off of us. A few dead overtaken on the stairs? Not a problem. Just the opposite in fact. I piled them up so that the animated ones behind us would either trip or at least have to navigate around them. I took whatever debris or dead zombies I could gather and continued making an obstacle course behind us. Every so often I would have to fire a round as they gained on us, but with my obstacles and the moderate speed of our pursuers, we were getting along fine.


    Then we arrived at the panel.


    And because I''m the luckiest #aiways alive, it wouldn''t open.


    I''m actually extremely lucky, just so you know. But I make my own luck with my futurecasting and decision-making. I know that other people don''t feel that way. They see me as silly and chaotic, absurd and aloof, but that''s just my projection into the world. I know my shit.


    @auroraloon tried the panel. She motioned to me, so I handed her my glen10 and took a stab at it myself. I kicked. I clawed. I pulled. Nothing.


    @auroraloon shot out the corners, denting them nicely. The bang bang resonated through the stairwell with resounding echoes. But still the panel wouldn''t budge.


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    kittyboy: "We''re at the panel, but it''s stuck."


    pixel_princess: "Fuck."


    kittyboy: "Well put, and a nice rhyme."


    I gave one more kick to the panel.


    kittyboy: "This design is stupid. So much for an escape hatch."


    pixel_princess: "Maybe they sealed it after they left."


    kittyboy: "Yeah, it''s looking more and more like they wanted us here. More test subjects for their little zombie_os virus."


    astrowave: "Combat test. See how they do in battle against a small group."


    @auroraloon tapped me on the shoulder and pointed down the stairwell.


    auroraloon: "They''re going to catch up. We have to scramble."


    And we did.


    I ran. @auroraloon spobbled (speed hobbled). We went up a half flight to the next level and took off down the hall, right into more carnage.


    This level was a mess of servers, a primary data and power supply chamber. There was one thick gate that walled off the area, but it had been blown open. Beyond were server racks, extending from the floor all the way to the ceiling, like pillars, making the dark room resemble an old Earth mausoleum or tomb. So fitting. Why does everything here seem to want me to be dead?


    More overtaken were scattered around the area, their crumpled zombie bodies leaning against the powerless servers, blood splashed across circuitry in a way that would make janitorial services nauseous. Just how many of these overtaken were there? I wondered.


    And I could hear movement.


    We just really couldn''t catch a break. @auroraloon knew it too.


    auroraloon: "We''re going to be surrounded."


    pixel_princess: "We have your location. We''ll come to you."


    kittyboy: "You sure? Last I remember, you were stuck too."


    pixel_princess: "One final push."


    kittyboy: "Copy that. One last stand."


    "Get ready," I said aloud to @auroraloon, but she was already ahead of me, arranging bodies as best she could to plug the opening where the gate had been blown open. I joined in to help. She handed me my gun back, and I holstered it to grab more corpses for the barricade.


    "Good idea," I said, tossing another body on the pile and checking our surroundings. "If we can keep them on the other side, we''ll just need to clear out however many are in here."


    "I don''t think there''s many," @auroraloon said optimistically, catching her breath for a moment as she dragged a skinny man''s body, one of his arms connected only by tendrils, over to the growing mound. "This looks like it was quite the battle."


    "I can lift the bodies, you know," I said, watching @auroraloon struggle to hoist the skinny man higher onto the top.


    "So can I," she said. For the love of @3Beak was she stubborn.


    "You haul. I stack. Deal?"


    And so it was that when the overtaken came at us, we had our own little fortress of the dead to keep them at bay.


    I felt like we needed a catch phrase to commemorate the moment. My mind was blank, so I unholstered my gun, raised it high in our mausoleum of servers, and shouted the first thing that came to mind.


    "Bananas!"

 2.9 - The Last Stand

    @auroraloon probably would have mocked me for screaming bananas if we didn''t have to immediately defend ourselves. There wasn''t much she could do. I was glad she had her shiny suit, but it would have been much better if she had found a weapon. Instead, she shoved up against our barricade to hold it in place as mass of overtaken formed on the other side.


    "I''ll scream for help if it starts to go," she barked, wincing in pain. "Clear the room."


    I mildly noted the location of @pixel_princess and @astrowave as I picked my route around the server tomb, following my ears. They hadn''t left their secured room yet. I didn''t blame them. Who would want to leave the relative safety to face the prospect of death or worse - being overtaken?


    I wondered if @photon_binary''s memories or other information had been transferred out when he was overtaken. I suspected that was the end game, but with the remote location, power shifts, jamming signals, my hope was that only he himself had been compromised. Sucks for him, but better for us.


    My enhanced ears and sensors gave me a decent view of what I expected to find around the server room. Stragglers walked down three of the rows of pillars, ambling in and out as they wandered around the servers toward our location. I knew that I could just wait with @auroraloon and eventually they''d all find me, but that would take too long, and I wasn''t sure exactly how long @auroraloon could hold out before the overtaken overtook''er.


    The first overtaken I found was a female technician in a green jumpsuit, a badge proudly displaying her name and station, "Dani, Data Technician IV." Two loose wires protruded from the back of her head, poking out through medium length, brown hair that she had put in a bun. The bun surprisingly still held her hair partially together, except the frazzled spot where the wires were, making it look like she had been electrocuted. One of her eyes was missing. Another wire was jutting out of her eye, dangling. It swayed as she staggered toward me.


    "You look like Arial font that someone decided to turn into Comic Sans," I said, tilting my head at her sadly. "I''m sorry they Comic Sansed you."


    I shot her in the forehead.


    Three more names later (Alfonso, Brad, and Randy), I was getting close to the spot I wanted to investigate. It was a far corner, putting me a little farther from @auroraloon than I liked, but my sensors showed a heap of bodies and activity.


    kittyboy: "Checking out what looks like the main spot."


    ... @auroraloon liked that.


    I did not like that, however. In fact, I puked a little in my mouth when I saw what was there.


    @cyberneticflare must have put up quite the fight before he blew himself up. Not uncommon for Thunder Ops, but still a last resort. His remains were pinned, arms and legs outstretched in an x shape, against what looked to be the power station for the starlab. There would normally be several of these stations with battery storage, but given the size of the compound and their desire to remain undetected, this had the makings of a shielded independent unit. But they wouldn''t have just had one, not for a lab like this.


    Stolen story; please report.


    I looked around.


    There. Thirty paces away were the remains of another power station. @cyberneticflare knew what he was doing. The trail through the pillars showed signs of explosions. He''d blasted his way to the power station, taken out the first, and then used his own self destruct for his final act.


    Heroic.


    I''m glad one of us was.


    Goop dripped out of @cyberneticflare''s body. I took out two more zombies as I approached his corpse. They weren''t much of a threat because they were already severely wounded, with missing limbs and massive head injuries. I was surprised they were still walking, but they were, with those hands stretched out toward me, wires at the ready, wanted nothing more than to grab me and plug into my brain.


    I ignored their names. I tried to erase the thought of them, as I focused on @cyberneticflare.


    "You did good, buddy," I said, patting him on part the skin and uniform where his shoulder would have been. I pulled a woman''s limp body off the side of him where it was impossible to know whose blood was whose, and once again it was my task to go digging into a brain.


    I held what was left of his head in one hand, rummaging through the exterior of his brain down toward the cerebellum with my other. But I couldn''t find anything. No memoryshard.


    Well, that sucked. And I could dawdle because we still weren''t alone.


    "I''ll just have to remember you myself," I said, and I headed back to the barricade.


    Martha was my next victim. She had managed to get a hand on me before I put a slug through her head. That''s only because I was trying to conserve bullets. She seemed nice. She had an awkward smile on her face, and long black curly hair with bangs, brown sullen eyes staring out. She was hunched over a little, probably had taken impact to her lower back when @cyberneticflare exploded.


    In my mind, we would have met at the library and read a book on Earth history while joking about how corny social media videos were. Oh, poor Martha.


    A ping caught my attention on my hud, breaking me from my daydream.


    @pixel_princess and @astrowave were on the move. I could feel the shot of adrenaline in me. And I snapped back into awareness.


    "Hey!" I heard through the dark pillars. "Hey!"


    It was @auroraloon.


    "Here, kitty kitty!"


    She really knew how to make an impression.


    I ran back to find her still holding the barricade, but it was starting to give, and the flow of blood from the pressed bodies being squeezed was making it hard for her, the slickness making everything slippery.


    I started shooting, loading my final clip into the glen10, trying to get the ones closest to us so that I could create some separation. I took down four. At the same time, the fresh bodies helped us extend the barricade. But I knew it wasn''t going to hold.


    The hall on the other side was full of overtaken. I couldn''t count how many. I estimated 114 that I could partially see. They were trampling over each other, doing whatever they could to reach us. Our paltry little pile of bodies was the only thing keeping us safe, and I could hardly believe it had held this long.


    "We''re fucked," I said.


    "I know," she replied, looking over at me. "What do you want us to do? Give up?" Then she slipped to the ground, her bloody sparkly suit splatting on top of the mess of ooze around us. She held up a bloody hand to me, shaking her half bald head at me. I grabbed her hand and pulled her back up.


    "Not my fault you fell," I complained.


    "I didn''t say it was," she replied, throwing herself back into pushing on our heap of bodies.


    "You implied it," I stated.


    She groaned at me. "Well, I hadn''t fallen until you got here."


    "So what? I distract you?"


    We pushed together as a body on top started to fall. I reached up to keep it in place.


    "Sure, I guess. Fine. You distract me."


    "In a good way?" I asked, giving up on the body above me. I secured its weight and dropped it behind us.


    "Just shut up."


    That was a fine response.


    Then we heard gunfire. I exchanged a glance with her, smiling. They were here.

 2.10 - Sacrifices

    pixel_princess: "We''re here. What''s your status?"


    kittyboy: "Just in time. We barricaded ourselves in the server room but won''t hold out much longer."


    pixel_princess: "Understood. We can see the gate. Back away and then get ready to run for it."


    I''ve been around long enough not to question orders. Sometimes I flat out disobey them, but that''s different. I didn''t know or really care what @pixel_princess had in mind. I grabbed @auroraloon by the hand, and we abandoned our more and more fruitless endeavor of pushing bodies together.


    @astrowave came barreling down the hallway like a torpedo shot from an angry hippopotamus. Or more like an angry hippopotamus shot from a warship full of mice. Either way you look at it, he was impressive. He used his arms to batter away zombie after zombie, barely losing momentum, a tank rolling over everything in his path. I had never really seen Thunder Ops at work. So, this was it. A display of physical brutality and punishing strength, with zombies flying left and right, a barrage of blows clearing the way.


    He screamed the entire time. Then he exploded.


    @auroraloon and I were sprayed with blood and body parts, and the blast sent us falling backwards to the ground.


    pixel_princess: "Hurry! Now!"


    We rushed back to our feet as quickly as we could, surveying empty pathway before us that @astrowave''s explosion had caused. Time was on our side now, but we needed to move fast before the overtaken could reassemble.


    I looked at @auroraloon, staring until I drew the full attention of her violet eyes. Time seemed to stop.


    "You first," I said with strength and confidence. "You''re going to make it."


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    I have my moments.


    She was injured. I''m not a hero. I''ve said that before, and I really mean it. I''m not. But I know what the right thing to do is. No one has to tell me what''s good and what''s evil. I''m my own moral authority. This wasn''t about heroism. This was about being good to another person who deserved someone good.


    "Together," she responded, and took my hand, squeezing firmly.


    And so we ran like fucking chickens with a pack of coyotes after us. @pixel_princess was atop the stairs, foot tapping, eager to head back down to the escape panel.


    "@pixel, this is @auroraloon," I said, making introductions as we tripped and troped our way to the stairs and started our way down. "@auroraloon, this is @pixel_princess, the leader of our #firesquad. You''re both badasses. I''m sure you''ll get along."


    They just nodded at each other, like that was obvious, and it was dumb of me to point it out. It was a weird, sisterly, kind of moment between them, that gave me deja vu feelings inside. Maybe they were both witches.


    When we reached the panel, I was both relieved and frustrated again.


    "I don''t know how we''re going to open this," I said, shaking my head.


    "I do," replied @pixel_princess.


    She reached up and pulled a memoryshard out. I suspected what she meant to do. She handed me her memoryshard, and for the first time, we shared a serious look, a somber moment. I''ve died for commanding officers plenty of times, but never like this. I wanted to hug @pixel_princess and say thank you.


    "It has to be you," she said earnestly, flexing the fingers of her hands. "You''re the pilot. This is what I do. This is what I''m good at." She grabbed my shoulder. "You have to get these memories out of here."


    I nodded. "Aye, commander. May you remember."


    May you remember. Something we mean when we say it. It is our perpetual hope, through death and reanimation, through hundreds or thousands of years, that we can remain who we are while we continue to grow and evolve. It''s our plea that no matter how much time passes, we can remember our lives.


    It is the memories that make us who we are.


    "May you remember," I repeated. Satisfied, @pixel_princess released me.


    I could hear echoing thumps above us. The overtaken had reached the stairs.


    "Stand away from the hatch," @pixel_princess instructed, motioning us back.


    @auroraloon and I moved away, around the corner and down a few stairs. This put us farthest from the overtaken and a safe distance from the hatch. We hugged the wall around the corner for protection.


    @pixel_princess''s explosion was less impressive than @astrowave''s. There were no flying bodies, just the crack and boom of metal being ripped apart and a splattering of her blood. But, like @astrowave''s, her sacrifice was real.

 2.11 - Spacecycles

    @pixel_princess''s sacrifice had worked. She blew the escape panel, and some of the metal panels around it, clear off, leaving a comfortable opening for us, as long as we avoided some of the metal barbs and bent pieces the blast left behind. @auroraloon led the way.


    I took an extra few seconds to find the panel, which was mostly intact. After I climbed through, I pulled it as best I could into where the opening was. It was far from secure, but even if it gave us a few more moments to escape, I figured it was worth it.


    The escape corridor was smaller than I expected. I don''t know why, but I figured this would be a fully sized corridor. It wasn''t. We didn''t have to crawl, but it wasn''t comfortable crouch-sprinting through what was essentially a little metal tunnel. If the panel had been off, I would have considered it a big air duct.


    The tunnel opened out into a larger room, equipped with five spacecycles. @auroraloon moved to the closest, the quantum keys dangling in her hand. As she brought the key close to the first cycle, a boom echoed, seemingly far away, but it shook the ground intensely. I nearly fell over. @auroraloon did fall over, and she took one of the spacecycles down with her. Another spacecycle fell of its own accord.


    "Shit," I said. "They''ve started bombing. I think they''re going to blow this whole place up."


    @auroraloon gathered herself and glared at me in a yeah duh kind of way. "Let''s hurry." She flashed her quantum key over the nearest standing spacecycle and motioned for me to take it, while she quickly ran to the next. I punched what looked like a button that would open the hatch to the surface and was pleasantly surprised that at least one thing worked seamlessly.


    Space, and our potential freedom, opened up before us. A quick scan showed a cluster of mini asteroids and a larger one, 1941 Wild, in the distance. We could make for that, get a signal off. That would have to work. I made for my cycle.


    Spacecycles are gorgeous pieces of machinery, and these weren''t just throw-away spacecycles. These were Triumph Space Triples. The metal on the Space Triple formed a continuous curve that tapered off at the back. Instead of wheels, the craft could hover, and its primary thrusters fired out of three rings fueled on hydrogen reserves - one primary in the back and two smaller rings on the sides.


    A spacecycle can glide over terrain or fire out into space. Two small stabilizer wings would slide out when needed to grant extra maneuverability. In the spirit of small, fast, and agile, although the spacecycle looked like it was made of perforated carbon fiber, the perforations were actually more thruster slots. The craft would adjust these mini thrusters from any angle to assist the rider.


    As I hopped on and closed the rider canopy around me, I discovered my favorite part - the custom gel seat that was added. It folded around me and was programmed to shift its shape to keep me stable and comfortable.


    I very much wanted to get one of these. The instrument panel lit up in a bright blue, gloriously minimalistic and clean, with all the information I needed.


    To my disappointment, the only thing it was lacking was a full supply of hydrogen. But we didn''t have time for that. It would have to be enough. I realized then that @auroraloon might have a chance to get far enough away to hide, a small but slim chance to escape, but I certainly would not, given the amount of fuel I had.


    Then again, who was I kidding? I''m a perpetual optimist, but the real plan needed to be that we get a signal out, stash memoryshards, and blow ourselves up. Spacecycles can''t cover enough distance and most importantly they lack a DEAD drive to warp away.


    kittyboy: "Plan A is to get far enough away to get a signal out, to send a warning to the Extroverts. Plan B is to get you somewhere safe. Plan C is we go boom."


    @auroraloon nodded at me through the canopy of her spacecycle, testing its engine with a stationary flare of power. She seemed to know what she was doing. That was good. She might even know these bikes better than I did. But I''m a pilot, and I''ve piloted just about every spaceship around. I knew all the tricks.


    For good measure, I popped open the canopy and pulled out my glen10. It didn''t take long for the first few zombies to appear through the tunnel. I fired gleefully, taking down overtaken one-by-one until my clip was empty and another explosion sounded from above. This was gratuitous violence, and I knew it wasn''t the best idea, but it felt good at the time.


    auroraloon: "Satisfied?"


    I holstered the glen10 quickly, lowered the canopy, and flashed her a big smile.


    kittyboy: "Getting there."


    No time to waste. I hit the accelerator and blasted off.


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    The Triumph Space Triple handles like a dream. It seemed like I only had to think about where I wanted to go and the spacecycle followed suit. Since the Eternis was busy bombing the starlab, we had a chance to start our escape undetected by hugging the asteroid''s surface.


    kittyboy: "Use your jammers and stay close to the surface. When we get to the opposite side as the Eternis, we fire off toward 1941 Wild. They''ll detect us eventually once we are in deep space, but hopefully we can get to the other side of 1941 Wild to use it as a comms shield and get a message off."


    Hugging an asteroid is not easy. The shape is usually irregular, although sometimes there are nice flat spots. This one was all bumps, spikes, dips, and jutting rocks. But I''m not complaining. We zigged and zagged with relative ease, pushing the spacecycle close to its limits at times, but I dare say this was fun. If we weren''t facing imminent destruction, I would have been happy to ride around this asteroid all afternoon.


    We were silent as we sped along, keeping our focus on maneuvering along the asteroid, leaning hard lefts and rights, putting the spacecycle through their paces. I fell in love with the rhythm. Rock to the right, rock to the left, burst the hydrogen, brake, rock left, rock right, hit the accelerator again.


    Finally, it was time for the speed run.


    kittyboy: "You ready? 1941 Wild. Full speed."


    auroraloon: "About time. Let''s go."


    I pulled up, setting 1941 Wild''s solar north in my sights, and yanked to full throttle. The burst kicked me back, such a joyful feeling that I discovered I was laughing out loud. I wondered how long I had been riding and laughing to myself. Simple pleasures, I thought to myself. The gel seat perfectly adjusted, keeping me steady as the acceleration blasted us out into space.


    They would detect us soon now that we were completely exposed. Spacecycles don''t have much in the way of jamming or cloaking.


    I would say this is the boring part. Riding a spacecycle in a straight line is not that exhilarating. But when a Valkyrie is going to pursue you, fully intent on blowing you up, well, let''s just say I had plenty of adrenaline pumping through my veins, raising my heartbeat, making me sweat.


    Now that we were pretty much on autopilot with our fingers crossed, I had more time to think about what was next. My mind immediately went to @auroraloon. I shook my head at myself. I''ve always been pretty much a loner.


    I probably talk to my coffee machine way too much, I thought. Thinking about someone else will be good for me.


    kittyboy: "Will they revive you after we die?"


    My question was greeted with the same pause I had come to expect from @auroraloon when I wanted to know something about her. I could guarantee that she was in her own head, running scenarios, trying to decide the optimal thing to say.


    auroraloon: "Yes. But ..."


    kittyboy: "But what?"


    auroraloon: "It will be a ... much earlier version probably."


    That didn''t surprise me, considering she was at the starlab for who knows how long. I could tell that she wasn''t happy about it. Memories are what make us, and her reanimated self would be missing a major chunk of time.


    I''d love to say we get used to these memory gaps, but the more and more they happen, somehow the more one starts to feel like a shell. Self-deletion is the most common cause of permanent death, sadly. We do what we can for our mental health, but ... as the old Earth Highlander used to say, and my beloved #freddiemercury would sing, "Who wants to live forever?"


    I''m an exception. I do. There''s so much space out there. I want to see it all.


    On the positive side, @auroraloon did seem confident in reanimation, and that piqued my interest.


    kittyboy: "You seem confident they''ll bring you back. May I ask why?"


    I didn''t like the answer.


    auroraloon: "It''s complicated. They may already have a new version of me out there actually."


    That surprised me. It wasn''t unheard of, but whether you''re an Introvert or an Extrovert, it was deemed unhealthy to have multiple #aiways of an origin active at the same time. Sometimes a person will get forked into two separate entities of the same origin. That''s a bit more stable on a person''s mental health. But our minds aren''t equipped to experience the same period of time, with different memories. It''s like living multiple realities. The side effects can be disastrous.


    I wanted to press @auroraloon for more information, but my futurecasting and high emotional intelligence told me this was not a subject to discuss, so I tried not to overthink it. The Introverts had reasons to keep her around. Good.


    kittyboy: "Any thoughts on sending your memories to the Extroverts?"


    auroraloon: "Too much data, you have no backups, you have no body. It would be only a fragment of me, and they''d probably just stick me in a computer to get information out of me. Besides, you''re forgetting. I''m an Introvert."


    She was dead right about all of that.


    All I cared about was that she would live, or that she was alive out there already. I had to hope that there was some small chance I''d see her again. I wondered if she felt the same.


    Awkward.


    I buried my thoughts. Didn''t matter. What mattered was I cared about her. I really don''t pray to @3Beak that much. But, once again, I whispered a plea to my three-headed rooster god. I had an eternity to find her again. But I also might not remember to go looking, I might not remember her at all, unless we got our message out and memories secured.


    This was a memory gap that I didn''t want to have. It''s why the memory gaps haunt us so much. Not knowing. Sure, it could be something we want to forget. It usually is because the primary cause of a memory gap is sudden death. But sometimes, just sometimes, that gap is full of wonder and amazement.


    "Please," I whispered to @3Beak. "I want to remember."


    A loud beep and a warning light on my spacecycle alerted me that we had finally been found. The Eternis had located us. We were being scanned and tracked.


    kittyboy: "We no longer need to be discreet. Time for an oxygen burst."


    We were at max throttle, but we had one more trick, a turbo boost so to speak, via rapid hydrogen burn infused with oxygen. This would have given us away for sure, but there was no point in avoiding it now.


    I angled my spacecycle 11 degrees to the solar northwest and punched the button, erupting forward in a blazing burn toward 1941 Wild.

 2.12 - The Spectacular Explosion

    We flew in low toward the 1941 Wild asteroid. It was big enough, at about 10.7 miles in diameter, that we could reasonably hide and hopefully fully lose the Eternis. Despite our oxygen burn, the Valkyrie was gaining fast. I mean, the thing was way more powerful. It''s a Valkyrie, after all.


    I took the lead, on a semi-direct course now that would angle us to the side farther from the Eternis. My hope was to get to the opposite side as their ship, putting the asteroid between us, and hopefully get some relief from jamming signals. By my calculations, we would make it, but we had to time it right.


    I tested the jamming signal with a ping. Still no luck on transmissions. The readings showed promise though, with jamming estimates only at two bars.


    kittyboy: "Once we get far enough to get a signal out, we''ll need to abandon the cycles, let them think we exploded."


    auroraloon: "You seem pretty optimistic. Sure we''ll make it?"


    kittyboy: "We''ll make it. Then we dash for the surface."


    auroraloon: "Or we just let them blow us up."


    I thought about that for a moment. I died that way a lot. It was quick and painless. But I didn''t want to give them the satisfaction. I wasn''t ready to give up yet. If nothing else, assuming we got the signal out, we could stash our memoryshards as a backup.


    kittyboy: "No. For pride if nothing else, they aren''t going to blow me up this time. I want to pull one trick on them at least. And I want to stash a memoryshard - plus the memoryshards from @pixel_princess and @photon_binary."


    auroraloon: "So, plan B."


    kittyboy: "I think plan D has been plan A since we first met."


    auroraloon: "Or X? Or Y?"


    kittyboy: "LOL. When we eject, set your spacecycle for the nearest asteroid. They''ll know we either gave up or had a power reserve and are trying to run for it."


    auroraloon: "Confirmed. Plan Z it is."


    I laughed.


    We were just a few seconds from the surface. Still on track. My little spacecycle didn''t have much more juice in it. I was upset that they didn''t have a power backup onboard, but then, they probably didn''t intend these for much more than some surface travel at the starlab.


    I pulled up, leveling off get to the side opposite where the Eternis would show up. I pinged again and again. It had to be a matter of moments now, if I''d get a signal out at all. Still two bars.


    @auroraloon stayed right on my tail. She had a little more power left than I did, but still not nearly enough.


    One bar on the ping. I was just about there, now angling to the surface. As we approached, along the horizon, I started to pick out the cluster of smaller rocks near 1941 Wild in greater detail. My plan was to get a signal out, ditch the spacecycles, and make for the small cluster of rocks.


    If it all worked out, I could store memoryshards there on one of the smaller rocks, then thrust to the surface before the Eternis could pick us up. If they found my body on the surface, hopefully they would overlook anything in the hundreds of rocks above it.


    My spacecycle zipped toward the dark chunky asteroid that was 1941 Wild. As I arrived, the feeling of nothingness suddenly becoming a tangible feeling of being grounded again, having a spot in the universe. I sped past rocky crags, finding the smoother parts, not bothering to slow down. I worried about @auroraloon being able to keep this speed, but she didn''t complain and stayed close enough. The distance was marginal, and she was still within comms.


    kittyboy: "Get ready to eject."


    auroraloon: "Standing by."


    I zipped around an outcropping, nearly clipping it, and back into an open space. I had been distracted, paying too much attention to @auroraloon''s spacecycle. It probably looked like a cool but reckless maneuver. I didn''t bother admitting that I was distracted.


    I pinged for the jamming signal again.


    We were clear!


    I screamed for joy and triggered the first transmission. Then I counted. The first transmission was the smallest datapacket, and the simplest that I could send. It simply said, "Zombies," and gave the location.


    The second message would take slightly longer. It gave more context, but most importantly, it had the digital memories of our firesquad from this mission. As the transmission with my memories went out, I started a new memory log.


    I admit that I didn''t include what was on @photon_binary''s physical memoryshard. I didn''t have a converter. And I wasn''t about to load his shard into my own head - not with that virus potentially on it. In fact, even if I could digitize it, I wouldn''t take the risk.


    I needed to wait seven seconds just to be safe. Seven seconds in the clear would give me enough confidence that the message was out.


    I continued speeding along the surface, now monitoring the transmission, pinging the system, and checking sensors.


    @auroraloon picked our pursuers up first.


    auroraloon: "The Eternis! Solar east at 1.2, minus 41."


    kittyboy: "Yeah, I got it. You ready. Two seconds."


    I crossed my fingers. Ping.


    Still clear.


    auroraloon: "I''m ready."


    I waited an extra second. It was time. We had done all we could do. I put the spacecycle on autopilot and sent it out into space toward the next closest major asteroid. This was the important part. They had to believe we were still on the run or that we had realized it was futile to escape.


    Of course, what I really needed was time. I was certain @bronzelion and the Eternis would find us eventually. They would inspect the wreckage and realize our bodies weren''t there. And then they would send a search party out, to the surface, scanning the surrounding space. They would find us and collect whatever we left behind. All, that is, except for my memoryshard, and the memoryshards of @pixel_princess and @photon_binary, which I would hide away on one of those rocks.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    kittyboy: "Eject!"


    I ejected and suddenly slowed way down, letting my sensors and thrusters take control, my suit acclimating to space.


    I picked a random rock, technically another super-tiny asteroid that was close enough and marked it on the minimap.


    kittyboy: "Bounce and follow me."


    I hope she understood what I meant. My plan was to use the surface to get extra power by rebounding off of it, since we were so close, using it as my own springboard to flick me off into space. I let my suit provide most of the power and impact dampening, successfully redirecting myself with extra speed toward the rock.


    I decided to name the rock Howard.


    @auroraloon followed after me. I was pleased to see that she didn''t crush herself on the surface. Whatever that snakeskin suit was, it seemed fully capable in a space environment. Either that or @auroraloon was already dead and had just bounced off the surface without a care in the world.


    kittyboy: "You still with me?"


    auroraloon: "Yes, you little Tigger."


    Tigger? I asked myself. It sounded affectionate, so I blushed a bit in the deep dark of space where no one could see. Tigger? WTF was that?


    kittyboy: "What''s a Tigger?"


    auroraloon: "Tigger! From Winnie-the-Pooh."


    As if that was an explanation. What was this now about poop? Did she poop herself on the rebound? I''ve done it. I''m not ashamed to say it. We all poop in our spacesuits at some point.


    kittyboy: "WTF is that? Did you shit yourself? Are you calling me a poopy head or something? ??"


    auroraloon: "It''s an old Earth cartoon. You seriously haven''t heard of it?"


    kittyboy: "No."


    auroraloon: "Must be an Introvert thing. We do cling a lot more to pre-cyber Earth. But you must watch it! Tigger is a tiger, or not. Some kind of animal like a tiger, that bounces all over the place - like when you bounced off the surface. Get it? And Winnie is a bear. Winnie-the-Pooh. He''s a bear."


    She went on and on as we approached Howard the Rock. I had not heard her this talkative. She just exploded nonstop. She may not want to say much about herself, but oh boy did she love Winnie-the-Pooh.


    auroraloon: "And there''s a pig, Piglet, and a kangaroo. Pooh likes honey. They live in the hundred acre wood. It''s a forest. Do you know what a kangaroo is?"


    kittyboy: "Yes, of course. We''re not idiots."


    auroraloon: "Um. You don''t know what Winnie-the-Pooh is. I''m pretty sure that makes you idiots."


    kittyboy: "Whatever ..."


    We were landing with the asteroid, Howard, above us, so I flipped as I landed to be properly "up" and found myself standing on a 20-foot wide, properly rocky, rock. I scanned the area to look for a good place to stash memories.


    kittyboy: "Here. This is Howard. I need to stash my memoryshards. You should do the same."


    My scanner found something. Behind and to my left. A deep enough crevice in the earth to store something small such that I could secure it. Unless something struck this rock, it should be safe there. I turned to walk that way and @auroraloon tapped me on the shoulder.


    auroraloon: "Here. Take mine."


    I gasped and stared at her. I saw two serious violet eyes, peering through the reflection of my visor lamp. I didn''t know what to say. No one gives memoryshards to others lightly, especially Introvert to Extrovert. I looked down at the shard, then back at her.


    She nodded.


    auroraloon: "Take it."


    I did. I took it, feeling the weight of it. Having her memoryshard was different somehow from @photon_binary''s or even @pixel_princess''s. It meant more. It bore a different type of responsibility.


    I approached the crevice, in the darkness of space, only slightly paying attention to the Eternis, as the impressive Valkyrie ship closed in on our abandoned spacecycles. I walked toward the crevice like a person walking to a gravesite. This was important. It needed to be done right.


    I refreshed the memories in my memoryshard, removed it, and started a new memory log. This was becoming too common, I thought to myself.


    I bent down and inspected the site. It was good. The best we could do. I put @auroraloon''s in first, deepest, farthest from anything. Then I slid mine in, pushing to jam it in with the back of my utility knife. @pixel_princess''s was next and lastly was @photon_binary''s (no offense, PB).


    Satisfied, I stood up.


    auroraloon: "Thank you."


    kittyboy: "No, thank you. It will be safe here."


    She nodded.


    The somber moment of stashing our precious memories was one thing. Knowing that now was the race back to the surface, and to our death, was another. It made me sad. I think I knew why. We''d be parting ways soon.


    auroraloon: "There''s one more thing I want to do."


    I had stopped saying no to her a long time ago.


    kittyboy: "As long as it''s quick. What is it?"


    I took stock of my sensors. Out there in space, my spacecycle had run out of fuel and was slowing. @auroraloon''s cycle moved past it and continued gaining distance. The Eternis was close to firing range. Would they capture or destroy? I absently wondered. If they really wanted the memories destroyed, they would destroy them first and then check the wreckage. They wouldn''t risk the time to capture.


    auroraloon: "You won''t like it."


    kittyboy: "Maybe I will."


    auroraloon: "I hope you don''t."


    kittyboy: "Okay? What is it?"


    auroraloon: "Turn around and don''t look. I want to stash this spacesuit."


    She was right. I didn''t like that. Without the suit, she was going to die. Here. On Howard. I''d have to carry her dead body to the surface for our plan to work.


    But that part, carrying her dead body to the surface, that didn''t matter to me. What mattered was that I wasn''t ready for her to die. We were supposed to die together for some reason.


    I turned around and felt properly uncomfortable as I stood staring off into space, wallowing in my sadness.


    kittyboy: "We''re supposed to die together."


    She didn''t respond right away, but I didn''t feel awkward about it.


    auroraloon: "Take me to the surface and blow us up, please.


    I nodded, still staring out into the cluster of asteroids, the distant stars. It was always beautiful and strange at the same time. So empty. I knew I was going to live a long time with the Extrovert Starmada. I wondered how much of that space I''d get to see before I was done.


    I felt lonely then in that moment. Space can do that to a person.


    auroraloon: "Close your eyes."


    I closed my eyes, and she hugged me, wrapping her arms around me. I felt the click of her helmet against mine. She still had it on!


    So, just maybe, if I hurried, she would have enough oxygen inside to make it there with me alive. She was going to die. It was just a matter of how and when. Unless I could blow her up with me, she was waiting for either suffocation or her blood to boil. Take your pick and space will oblige.


    I put all the available power into my thrusters that I could. I held on to her and blasted off of Howard, targeting the most direct path back to 1941 Wild.


    I wanted to say so many things in those few seconds from Howard to the asteroid.


    "It was nice to meet you."


    "I didn''t know zombies could be fun."


    "Thank you for getting our memories out."


    "Don''t tackle me again unless you mean it."


    "Let''s not fight in the next life, Introvert or not. But let''s tease each other."


    "I''ll miss your witty replies."


    "I promise I''ll watch Winnie-the-Pooh with you."


    But I didn''t say anything. I let lonely space fill my mind as I focused on our landing spot.


    The approach seemed agonizingly slow. I was counting in my head, knowing there was a chance she was still alive. When my feet touched down at long last on 1941 Wild, I breathed a sigh of relief.


    kittyboy: "@auroraloon?"


    She didn''t respond.


    The only thing left to do was to ... look into her eyes and see. Then I''d blow us both to smithereens.


    I took a deep breath and removed my helmet. I started the self-destruct sequence to match how long I could hold my breath.


    Then I let go of @auroraloon, realizing I still held her tightly, and removed her helmet. She was starting to fade out, but she blinked at me once, then held my gaze.


    I tilted my head sideways at her and shrugged.


    She smiled faintly with what little strength remained.


    I moved closer so that our lips were touching, holding those violet eyes in my gaze, not willing to close my eyes. I breathed my remaining breath into her.


    She perked up a little, her eyes getting wider, her body recovering slightly.


    We stared at each other.


    "I''ll find you," I mouthed at her.


    "Please don''t," she mouthed back, smiling.


    Then she held on to me, committing her last bit energy to the moment.


    I felt the curls of her hair against the side of my head. I saw tufts from the pink tips of her hair floating in front of my right eye. I pressed my head against hers and held her back.


    I wished I could remember this moment.


    As we embraced, the detonation fired.


    We blew up spectacularly.

 3.1 - Reanimation

    Reanimation begins with a scream.


    "Bananas!" I screamed, twisting my head back and forth, my eyes squeezed shut, a vision of bloodied overtaken resonating through my brain. I could see one coming close, its eyes rolled back, blood trickling down the side of its head, a qwire in its hand, ready to stick me in the brain. I shuddered, and that vision was followed by a smirking @auroraloon, her reaction to my cheer of bananas as we stacked our barricade of zombies to protect ourselves. At least, that''s what I remembered.


    "Here are your bananas," I heard a resuscitation bot proclaim.


    I opened my eyes, and sure enough, there were bananas. Not one banana, a whole cluster of bananas. I stared at the robot. It was a spider bot, with multiple limbs and a cartoonish smile with big eyes that were supposed to be friendly - the kind they would put on stuffed animals for little human kids. They were creepy as fuck if you ask me. Maybe not on a stuffed animal, but on a huge robot that greets you right after you are reanimated? Not for me.


    I took a banana begrudgingly, since my new body was famished.


    "Can I have some chicken waffles please?" I asked.


    "No. You have requested bananas," it replied stoically. "You may have another meal in the mess hall when your vitals are verified."


    Jerk.


    "Bananas aren''t a meal," I challenged.


    The spider bot slapped me across the face and poured a glass of water on my head. I shrieked, sitting up straight in my bed, feeling the cold water trickle down my chest and back, sending a proper chill down my spine.


    "WHAT THE FUCK!" I yelled, my eyes bugging out.


    The robot remained poised as ever. "I was instructed to instruct you." It tilted its head at me. Sometimes I wonder if these spider bots are independent entities, living exponential intelligence in a mechanical body. Other times I suspect someone is operating them.


    The reality is that it''s usually both. I believed this spider bot would live a happy life if released into the wild, so to speak. But, as I''ve stated, I''m an optimist. In my mind right now, the robot was not pleased with its instructions. It was my friend and ally. We would escape together on a ship and have adventures.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Do you have a name?" I asked. I had not thought to do that before. How shallow of me.


    The robot beeped and whirred at me. I wondered if that was its name, and I considered for a moment before I played it back.


    "Nice to meet you, beep beep whirrrr beep whirrr," I said.


    The robot shook its head at me.


    "You may call me Pokey." The robot looked around like it was about to get in trouble. It''s big eyes shifting left and right. Nothing happened, so they proceeded to fill the glass of water, and this time presented it to me cleanly. I gobbled down the water, splashing a little on my already wet garments.


    Okay, Pokey it was. That was easier to remember than beep beep whirrr beep whirrr anyway.


    "What is the last thing you remember?" Pokey asked.


    Back to business, I sighed. I thought about that. "I was on a spacecycle. I had just sent a message off to the Extrovert Starmada. My plan was to eject, along with @auroraloon. We were then going to store memoryshards and blow ourselves up. This was near 1941 Wild."


    "Excellent," Pokey responded. "As you can tell, your message was received and your memories of the events up until your message have been amalgamated into your consciousness."


    All I wanted in that moment was a hot shower. The water had reached my nether parts, making me even more uncomfortable. And I could use some time to think. I had a memory gap.


    They knew I had a memory gap as well. I couldn''t help but wonder what had happened after I sent the message. Was my other body dead? That was the plan. Stash a memoryshard and blow myself up. Did we make it? Were we captured?


    And my heart sank unexpectedly the more I wondered about @auroraloon. What happened to her? Did she blow up with me? Is she alive somewhere? Did they reanimate her? She was certain the Introverts would reanimate her. Where was she? Would she remember me?


    It was the last bit that saddened me the most. She wouldn''t. @auroraloon wouldn''t remember me.


    A lot of Ifs stood between me and @auroraloon. The most likely scenario was that she had been reanimated, but that she did not remember the starlab at all. So she wouldn''t remember me at all. Not only that, she wouldn''t know that she had a memoryshard stashed out there near 1941 Wild. Heck, I didn''t even know if we managed to stash memoryshards near 1941 Wild. Not only that, she was an Introvert. It seemed like everything was stacked against me. I felt hopeless.


    Ever wonder why we hate memory gaps so much? This is why.


    @auroraloon, in all likelihood, only knew that she had a memory gap. Like most of us aiways, she would assume that it was something bad, something that is actually better left forgotten. That doesn''t stop us from picking at those memory gaps like scabs in our brains though. Mine was driving me crazy. I only hoped that she had a similar itch and would be on the lookout for ways to fill that gap.


    I wanted a hot shower, yes. But more so than that, every particle within me wanted to head straight to 1941 Wild to search for myself, to search for what happened. And if I found something, I''d broadcast it on the widest public network I could to find her.


    Not that the Extrovert Starmada had any intention of letting me do any of that.


    No, they had another plan in mind, and to my surprise, it started with a promotion.

 3.2 - The Promotion

    I didn''t get my hot shower. Instead, I got the human equivalent of a dish going through a dishwasher. That''s not to say it was unpleasant. It was warm, and I didn''t lose any limbs. But it was quick, way too quick. Apparently, I had places to be, at least according to the Extrovert Starmada.


    That place was my promotion ceremony. I didn''t know what to expect because I''d been a Wavepilot for so long. I wasn''t put into active duty until UC65, and then I spent 94 years in mining services before they tried me out as a pilot due to escalations with the Introverts. That meant I served 136 years as a Wavepilot. By my book, that had to be some kind of a record. By their book, it wasn''t. I suppose when people don''t die permanently, promotions become harder and harder to come by.


    I thought it was special because I''d been a Wavepilot for so long. They thought it was special because promotions just don''t happen that often. Either way, it was special. How sweet, right?


    They put me in a dark red spacesuit with a black collar. The uniform had a thick white line down the left side and a thick black line down the right side. It was a pretty cool outfit actually, and I hoped they''d let me keep it.


    The room I was in did not look overly ceremonious. One wall was a depiction of space looking toward the sun. The opposite wall was a depiction of space looking away from the sun into the vast, relatively empty, void. What did catch my attention was the wall I faced. It was made of wood. My scanners told me it was red oak, making this one of the most expensive rooms on Sovereign Starbase.


    General @starrygirl kicked us off, with the universal tree symbol, joining her two hands together at the pointer finger and thumb, with her palms out, so that the space between the two hands resembled a tree. There were two primary shapes with this movement. The traditional shape was the tree. It was the most significant. But, if you pressed your finger and thumb together more, it became a dew drop, the symbol for water, which was used more as a farewell.


    I made the tree symbol back at @starrygirl. She stood on a small podium, and being on the shorter side, that put her on my eye level, staring back at her space blue uniform, black jacket, and dark oval eyes. This was kind of a huge deal actually. I had never met the General before. It was considered rude to learn too much about a person''s origin without them providing the details. But this was our General, so everyone knew a little bit.


    @starrygirl was from origin @sunying, whose family came to prominence in Chengdu, China. Her family still owned one of the largest shipyards in the solar system. The Ying Fleet, it was often called. But no one knew too much about @starrygirl herself except for a love of beagles (the dogs) and slippers.


    @starrygirl had two guardian bots on either side of her, who looked just like metal humans except that their heads could detach as drones and they fired lasers out of their eyes. The only other people present were @horus and @pixel_princess.


    We spoke in official messages here, this being a formal occasion.


    starrygirl: "@kittyboy, you have been nominated upon recommendation from First Commander @horus, to rise in rank to a new position within the Extrovert Starmada, upon exception, due to displays of uncommon heroism and egregiously excessive duty to the Extrovert Starmada."


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    This all sounded so grand that I found myself beaming from cheek to cheek like an idiot, temporarily forgetting my desire to be free from the war, while I let my ego inflate a bit. I rationalized it by telling myself I''d need a healthy big ego if I was ever going to have the courage to turn my back on the starmada and escape.


    I also finally picked up on why @horus was here. First Commander, I thought. @horus had been promoted as well. I wondered what had happened in the moments between Celestial Roamer and the Eternis ship.


    starrygirl: "Upon my special order, as authorized under the wartime doctrine of UC161, I hereby grant you the position of Vanquisher. Do you so pledge?"


    Holy fuck! Vanquisher!


    This wasn''t a move from Wavepilot to Bombardier, or Skidpilot, or Cometdriver. Vanquisher meant I was no longer part of a squadron or a fleet. Vanquisher meant I had some autonomy, different missions, special missions, and usually a crew of my own. And I''d get some cool gear and cooler guns!


    I was thinking what you must be thinking.


    I was thinking, What are they thinking!?!


    My eyes got real big, and I turned slowly to @horus, my mouth hanging open. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn''t get the words out.


    horus: "We all know you, @kittyboy. We know your antics. You are a prankster. You have been known to bend the rules, somewhat frequently. But you get the job done, and you don''t complain. You seem to always get the job done. No one can name a time when that wasn''t the case."


    I raised my hand immediately and spoke.


    kittyboy: "I can. The bulbous plumeria farm on Itokawa."


    I pretty much am the sole reason Itokawa is no longer classified as an asteroid, but rather as a small gravel patch in the solar system where no one of good standing shows their face.


    pixel_princess: "You should shut up."


    She was right, but I couldn''t.


    kittyboy: "I''m just putting it out there. I have more examples."


    I eyed the metal guardians, pondering what it would take me to say for them to laser me to death. And if they did, would I just end up right back in this room?


    horus: "@pixel_princess is here to bear witness, as another who can testify to your commitment and heroism."


    kittyboy: "That''s all very flattering, and thank you @pixel_princess. I am grateful for your sacrifice. But I''m not a hero."


    horus: "In recent history, you are. In the times we face ahead, we need someone who can get the job done. I want that person to be you."


    pixel_princess: "As do I. He also happens to be the only one who can figure out where the Eternis will be next. Isn''t that right?"


    She had me there, but that was because I wanted the ship, not because I wanted the Extrovert Starmada to have the ship.


    kittyboy: "The Eternis and I will be good friends, assuming my catnip virus activates successfully."


    starrygirl: "So I repeat. Do you pledge?"


    Jeepers. I really wanted to think about this. You''d say to turn down a promotion would be foolish, and you''d be right. Did I enjoy being a Wavepilot? No. I think I was clear about that. But it was predictable. It wasn''t predictable and safe. It was unsafe and predictable. But that was nice in a weird sort of way. I pretty much always knew I was going to die.


    Vanquisher meant responsibility, for myself and for others, for missions of greater significance that required me to think, not just to fly around and shoot stuff in a stupid i35.


    So, as was expected of me, and in no part because I felt I had a choice in the matter, I turned to face away from the sun, to the wall that looked out toward the darkness of space that was our vision for the future.


    kittyboy: "I, @kittyboy, of origin @henryhound, pledge my eternal being to the Extrovert Starmada as Vanquisher of all who would oppose us."


    That felt right and wrong to me, but it would come with great perks, so I swallowed my nerves and embraced the future, standing proud.


    Besides, I thought to myself. Fuck these people. I''m a goddamn Vanquisher now, with all the rights and privileges pertaining thereto. What better way to find @auroraloon.

 3.3 - A Crew of Animals

    My first assignment as a Vanquisher was to pick a crew and pack my things. For Vanquisher missions, I would need a small but permanent crew to cover the basics of every mission. Other specialists would join us on an as needed basis, depending on the assignment.


    I was the pilot (a damn good one, thank you very much), so I needed a weapons expert, a biodatascientist, and a medic. I sat in a boring room with @horus, where he mostly stared at his virtual screen while I made selections.


    kittyboy: "Can I have @astrowave as my weapons expert?"


    horus: "If @astrowave and his commanding officer agree, yes. He''s also been promoted, although it is minor, to Thunder Ops II. It shouldn''t be a problem."


    One for one. The image of @astrowave running down the zombie-infested corridor was still stuck in my head. I''d love to have that type of dedication and raw power on my crew.


    kittyboy: "Medic, I want Pokey. He''s a medical spider bot, the one that just revived me this last time."


    @horus squinted at me away from his screen and scowled.


    horus: "No."


    I pouted.


    kittyboy: "Why not? They''d be perfect, and Pokey follows orders to a fault."


    horus: "This Pokey that you talk about. If they are a resuscitation robot, that makes them a specialist with a very specific, very critical task for the starmada. Certain tasks would be beyond their programming. The answer is no."


    kittyboy: "Oh come on. They''re a robot, with vast information at their disposal. I bet I could ask it to replace my neural network, diode by diode, and they''d do it flawlessly."


    horus: "Hard no. Try again."


    kittyboy: "I don''t know any other medics."


    horus: "Did you read the dossiers?"


    Of course I hadn''t. I opened up the booklet in my hud viewer, showing names along the left and descriptions on the right as I moved my eyes from name to name. I didn''t really have the patience for this, and although I knew I should take it seriously since these people would be stuck in space with me, I just couldn''t bring myself to analyze all these options. He gave me a list of 784 candidates! So, I used a random number generator and picked number 601.


    kittyboy: "I''ll take @bitchfrog as my medic."


    I watched @horus''s eyes wander as he pulled up their profile and scanned it. He raised an eyebrow as he read, then looked over to me.


    horus: "You''re sure?"


    I hadn''t bothered to read the dossier on @bitchfrog. Figured it would be better just to start from scratch and figure them out for myself. I nodded back to @horus.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    horus: "Okay. @bitchfrog can be your medic. Lastly, you need a biodatascientist."


    kittyboy: "How about @shadowhacker?"


    horus: "No, she''s on my crew."


    That seemed selfish of him.


    kittyboy: "I''ll let you keep the goggles?"


    He scowled again at me.


    horus: "Hard pass. Pick again."


    I went for random again, picking number 168 out of the 271 candidates in the biodatascientist portfolio.


    kittyboy: "I''ll take @foxcutter."


    @horus paused again, bringing up the dossier on @foxcutter and scanning it over.


    horus: "Very astute of you. Kind of a dark horse pick but an excellent choice."


    He paused then and gave me a hard look. I could sense that my selections might fall apart in an instant. I didn''t care so much, but I really didn''t have the energy to pick again.


    horus: "Or did you just pick names that had animals in them?"


    What? Me? @kittyboy? I would never! I was almost certain there was only a little bias in my random number generation. How dare he?


    kittyboy: "I take exception to that statement. I''ll have you know that I made virtually no effort to make selections after you denied me Pokey and @shadowhacker."


    That was mostly true. It didn''t matter if @horus was right. It was still mostly random. So what if I like working with animals?


    kittyboy: "Besides, @astrowave isn''t an animal name."


    @horus frowned at me, but he was satisfied, and he probably had had enough of me at that point anyway.


    horus: "Fine. I''ll submit your selections and have them instructed to join you at your ship. You''ll be piloting a v90 Dominator. Try not to destroy it. Collect your things and report to the ship at Landing Bay N7."


    He pushed a few virtual buttons and typed a few virtual words with his fingers on his desk and then motioned for me to go.


    kittyboy: "Don''t I need a ship technician?"


    horus: "Are you planning to make modifications to the ship?"


    kittyboy: "Can I?"


    That got me super excited, especially after meeting @stardvark and learning about his Obliteration mode. I absolutely wanted to figure out how to customize and modify my v90 Dominator. First I''d have to get used to its stock configuration, but once I knew what it needed, or what I wanted, heck yeah, I''d customize the hell out of it.


    horus: "No."


    Asshole.


    kittyboy: "If I have a ship technician, can I?"


    horus: "No."


    kittyboy: "Well, then no. I guess I won''t make modifications."


    horus: "Then you don''t need a ship technician. The ship has repair droids and will fix itself as needed."


    Well, that was convenient for them, and for me I guess. I wasn''t satisfied with @horus''s No to modifications. I opted to store that information under strongly advised.


    horus: "You leave in two days. Your mission details will be sent over to the ship. Please review these today by 17:00 hours."


    Then he shook his head at me, his face oozing the prospect of future disappointment as he considered what I would likely do instead.


    horus: "And please, @kittyboy. Review the details. I don''t want to see you back in a Wavepilot uniform."


    I stood and made the dew drop sign at him with my hands.


    kittyboy: "It shall be done."


    As much as I hated having homework to do, I will say that it motivated me to get my paltry collection of personal items gathered so that I could settle into the v90 Dominator. It would have a dedicated captain''s quarters that was nicer, more spacious, more like my own studio apartment in space.


    I picked up a new butterfly rug, grabbed my sassy coffee machine, and then picked through a few personal items that I was more or less okay with losing if the ship exploded. I picked a squishy baseball stress ball, a nice pair of utility jeans, a spiky spindly locomotion plant that I named Stuart. I carefully put this and my official uniform in a backpack and made my way to Landing Bay N7, walking proudly, waving hello to people, the model of a good Extrovert Starmada soldier.


    On my way, I made a final stop and the armory, where they presented me with an arm cannon, a glen11 pistol, and a flip37 pulsar laser. I eyed the glen11, thinking of my adventures with its predecessor, the glen10. What fun we will have! I told it. This one goes to 11.


    I practically skipped my way to the ship, singing chirpy songs about death and violence.

 3.4 - Welcome to The Pharaoh

    The Eternis, that Valkyrie ship the Introverts have, was pretty cool. I knew based on its specs and the readings I was able to pull that it was basically the most technically amazing ship in the known universe. But as cool as it was, my v90 Dominator was cooler - because it was mine.


    The Vanquishers total at 783 employed presently in the Extrovert Starmada. We each have a ship, but there are so many of us that the ships themselves vary. There are two main classes, the Dominator and the Harvester. The Dominator is the more battle oriented of the two, and that made sense given my background as a Wavepilot. The Harvester was more stealthy, seek and retrieve types of missions instead of seek and destroy types of missions.


    The v90 Dominator is shaped like the head of a trident. Mine was a golden yellow color, almost like it was made of gold itself, with intricate patterns running across it, cast in a blue metal. As soon as I saw it against the backdrop of the red, white, black N7 landing bay walls, I was in love with it.


    I named it "The Pharaoh." Together we will rule the galaxy, I thought to myself, envisioning myself piloting it straight back to Earth to face the heart of the Introvert Starmada, with a glorious escort of fighter ships around me.


    "Together we will rule the galaxy?" someone passing by said, laughing far too loudly considering my reverie. "Someone has delusions of grandeur. You could be tried for treason, you know that?" They hollered back at me. I heard their footsteps slowing drift away, and eventually the laughter. I ignored them, transfixed on my new baby, and continued my way to the ship''s entry ramp.


    I don''t know what they expected me to do with all the space in the captain''s quarter. I put my squishy baseball on the corner of the white desk, put away my clothes, plugging in the coffee machine, and placed Stuart the plant next to the baseball. It took me 25 seconds to get settled in.


    The ship was quiet. I knew I''d get bored on a ship this size. All I heard now was the occasional metal clink of the hull, almost like an echo, as if the ship were trying to talk to itself through a dripping faucet.


    I had a cockpit with five stations for crew, crew quarters that could comfortably fit seven, but we could cram up to 20 in a pinch (it said so on the placard by the door), a communications room, a war room / briefing room, a gym, a kitchen, a medical bay, two full bathrooms, a scientician workshop, and a common''s area with couches and games. Why would I ever leave this ship, I asked myself, overcome in wonder.


    "Whatever we''ve done, Stuart," I said to my spiky plant, "it certainly must have been enough to deserve this. Let''s keep telling ourselves that. We deserve this. We earned this." I held my hand out and Stuart, being a locomotion plant, it responded automatically and gave me a high five. That''s one of the reasons I kept Stuart around. It was like a therapy plant, sort of. But I was still feeling a like an imposter. Seriously, how could this be my ship?


    I spent the next hour jogging around the ship. Yes, I had an exercise room, but I wasn''t exercising. I was screaming and laughing and joyously proclaiming to the ship that it was mine.


    "This is mine!" I yelled, touching my hand to wall next to the docking bay. Then I ran down the hall and into the medical lab.


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    "This is mine! This is mine! This is mine!" I touched all the equipment I could and made a note to disinfect it all later. Then I ran off again to the other side of the ship where the scientician workshop was.


    "This is mine! This is mine!" I giggled uncontrollably. I grabbed a hammer. "This is mine!" I held it up like Thor and struck a powerful pose in the doorway. "This is mine!!!!" I screamed. And then I tossed the hammer behind me and ran off to the kitchen to touch more stuff.


    @bitchfrog found me with my hand in the cookie jar and one cookie hanging out of my mouth. I turned to look at them, my wild blue eyes causing them to noticeably panic - concern for themselves or concern for me. I didn''t know or care which.


    "Thss iss mmine," I mumbled at them and held up the other cookie.


    @bitchfrog collected themselves, stood straight and tall, a good four inches taller than me, and addressed me formally.


    bitchfrog: "Lieutenant @bitchfrog, reporting for duty."


    I didn''t care for formality. Sure, when we all needed to communicate with each other, it would be fine, but I preferred a good (dis)honest conversation. So, I addressed them in a manner consistent with my behavior.


    "Doo youu wampt uh coookie?" I offered them the cookie in my hand while I continued munching the one in my mouth.


    "Do I have to?" @bitchfrog replied.


    I cheered and raised the cookie higher. Yes! They didn''t "formal" me back.


    "No," I said, swallowing the last bits. "But they are very good."


    They looked me up and down, and I could see they were wondering if I was actually the Vanquisher running the ship.


    "You''re in the right place. I''m @kittyboy. Pronouns he, him, kitty." I looked around, more as a gesture to explain my behavior. "Just familiarizing myself with the ship," I said smirking. "And you, you must be ... human!!!"


    My yelp startled the human, and they jumped in place. @bitchfrog''s light brown bob of hair bounced and their eyes bulged a bit.


    How hadn''t I noticed before? They were giving only organic vibes. My sensors couldn''t pick up on any active robotics within them. Metal, yes, but no functioning qbots, nodes, or mindspark that I could pick up. That could only mean human.


    "Yes," @bitchfrog finally said. I could tell they were a little irritated. With me. And for good reason.


    I slapped myself. I needed to do better. No micro-aggressions toward the human. No micro-aggressions toward anyone!


    They put their arms down and out to the side, as if saying, Here I am. This is me.


    "I am human," @bitchfrog said.


    I stared at them awkwardly. They had green eyes. They were human. They were tall. They were a medic. I was an idiot.


    But why did the Extrovert Starmada put a human on my crew ... or rather allow me to have a human on my crew? I was certainly going to get the human killed, and not the pleasant reanimation kind of dead. They''d be for real dead. I die all the time. It''s just second nature to me.


    I stared at them and futurecasted about our adventures on The Pharaoh. The analytics told me @bitchfrog would make it about nine days before I''d get us all killed. I gulped.


    "I apologize," I said as earnestly as I could muster. "I wasn''t expecting a human on my crew."


    They were less irritated. But still irritated. I waited for the obvious question.


    "Well, as it says in my profile, I am @bitchfrog, pronouns she, her, hers, human. Didn''t you read my dossier?" She didn''t exactly fold her arms at me in defiance or stomp her foot, but those green eyes were ... judgmental.


    "No, I didn''t," I said casually. "I liked your name. I know, making a super strong case for myself. But I swear I''m not an asshole, I''ll try not to get you killed, and I''m loyal to my friends. But you have to call me out on orders that could get you killed, okay? I was a Wavepilot. Dying is like, what I do for a living."


    @bitchfrog took that in patiently. I waited for her to say something, but she was still considering.


    "Do you still want to be here?" I asked. "You don''t have to be."


    She responded by snatching the cookie from my hand and downing it in one glorious bite, cookie crumbs falling from her mouth as she walked past me, barely sparing me a glance, and marched off toward the common room.


    "Okay then," I said, the smile trickling into my tone as I called after her. "Welcome to The Pharaoh!"

 3.5 - The Mission

    I grabbed the cookie jar and followed after @bitchfrog to the common area to wait for the rest of the crew to arrive.


    @astrowave was next to arrive, his thick body booming down the hallway gave him away. I stood to greet him and before I knew what was happening, he had lifted me off the ground in a bear hug.


    "@kittyboy!" he cheered. After he finally put me down, his smile faded and he looked serious. Like me, he was probably reflecting on our last encounter at the starlab. "Thank you for the memories." Asshole made the tree sign at me when he said it, all sentimental and formal.


    "We all had our parts to play. I''m glad you wanted to join me, and I''m kind of surprised you did," I said.


    "I was surprised you asked me," his low voice resonated. "You may be a little odd at times, but odd is different, and different is good."


    I reached a hand up to his shoulder. "Well, thank you for the memories." I paused for dramatic effect. "Glad to have you here. Now grab a cookie! Welcome to The Pharaoh."


    "Do they have nuts in them?" @astrowave asked.


    "No. This is the universal cookie. 99.9% of the population should be able to consume it without issue."


    @bitchfrog chimed in. "Is that why they taste like paper?"


    "How do you know what paper tastes like?" I raised an eyebrow at her. Paper was expensive. She seemed to imply that tasting like paper was a bad thing. Expensive things always taste good, don''t they?


    She shrugged at me. "Let''s just say I get bored, and when I''m bored I like to chew on things. Hide your quantum pens."


    "What''s this about quantum pens?" a new voice added. "We''re not really going to use quantum pens are we?"


    I had to sign official documents now as part of mission logs, so sadly, I would have to figure out how to sign my name. "No quantum pens. Yes cookies. You must be @foxcutter, our hacker."


    @foxcutter could have been my younger brother. I''m not massively tall, just the average white guy. I could blend into any cream colored object and in many settings I would just be one more white dude. @foxcutter was like that, but slightly shorter, slightly thicker, but with an oddly similar trimmed beard and short dirt colored hair.


    "Biodatascientist," @foxcutter corrected me. Fine. So he was a biodatascientist. Whatever.


    "Why don''t you introduce yourselves, check out the ship, get settled, and then meet me in the briefing room in one hour," I instructed. I made it all sound super formal but casual. In the back of my mind, I still had to prove myself - to me and to them. I had to play the part of a Vanquisher, a leader of people. "We''ll take a look at our first mission together and then head out."


    "I just warped in from Triton," @foxcutter began. "We were studying signals coming from Pluto. Looked like possibly an independent settlement out at the edges. Farmers or miners, or some combination of both. You''d be amazed at the people you find out there. I once picked up a signal for a bunch of mimes on tour."


    "Must have been quiet the signal," I said. "Get it. Quiet." I mimed a belly laugh at my crew. They all turned and stared.


    "Where''s the cat," @astrowave suddenly asked, breaking the silence. He muttered it aloud while looking down the hall, but I had to assume the question was meant for me.


    "No cat," I said. "Did you see a cat?"


    "No," @astrowave said, "but I want to see a cat."


    I shrugged at him.


    "Seriously, you don''t have a kitten aboard?" This time it was @bitchfrog. "You? @kittyboy? You don''t have a cat."


    Those dumbasses. I could tell they weren''t teasing me though. They legitimately wanted a cat on the ship.


    "Only cat here is me," I said, chipperly. "But if you all really want one, I''ll consider it. I''m just not too keen on it because ships blow up, you know. Like a lot."


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    "Hopefully not this one," @bitchfrog said. Her human eyes made eye contact with mine, making me nervous.


    "Yeah, I guess if I am keeping a human alive, no harm in a cat as well." I didn''t like this whole staying alive and not letting my ship explode. It limited some of the possibilities. "Like I said, I''ll think about it."


    That seemed to satisfy them, but I could guess that at least two of them were going to immediately start looking at intergalactic adoption centers. Part of me wanted to stay and visit, but I was also not used to people on my ship, so I wanted some alone time.


    "Okay then," I said. "I''ll see you in the briefing room." I left them to get acquainted and told myself I should really scan the dossiers. Sometimes telling yourself to do something is as good as actually doing that thing.


    I headed off to the briefing room myself. I didn''t really want to call it the war room. By my logic, every room was a war room. I sat down in the captain''s chair, marked by its red and white stripe down the side of its fake black leather upholstery. The chairs were arranged in a circle, around a virtual reality display that would project in the center.


    I pulled up the mission details on my personal hud to get familiar. See, @horus. I can follow orders.


    Mission 5-519-752


    Intel suggests suspicious smuggling activity of human cargo in the region surrounding Eros and Itokawa. Data from Starlab 41665.1 indicates possible test subjects for zos612 virus.


    Mission objective is to infiltrate the shipping operation. A contact at Bar None on Psyche can facilitate an introduction.


    Backstory. Your v90 Dominator has been retrofit to look like a wealthy merchant vessel. You trade primarily in paper and dirt, but you came across someone you want to get rid of discreetly and intend to sell them off. Containers of paper and dirt are located in the cargo hull.


    The person you will sell is @bitchfrog. A human will command attention and interest from buyers.


    Good luck.


    I decided to bang my head against the display table in front of me. @bitchfrog wasn''t going to make it my calculated nine days. Not with this mission in our logs. "Fuck me," I said aloud.


    I opened up a channel to @horus.


    kittyboy: "@horus, I did my homework. Are you serious with this mission?"


    I tapped my foot as I waited for a reply, my mind calculating scenarios. I had to figure out a way to keep @bitchfrog alive.


    horus: "I''m just your commanding officer, @kittyboy. I don''t make the missions."


    kittyboy: "Why aren''t we heading back to Starlab 41665.1? We should investigate what''s left."


    horus: "We are. I know you want to be there."


    kittyboy: "I probably have a memoryshard there."


    horus: "Possible but unlikely. That area is mostly rubble now. Besides, it''s a cleanup job. We have people for that. You''re needed elsewhere. This is more important."


    kittyboy: "But my memories ..."


    horus: "This is more important. You have to follow orders, @kittyboy. If they find anything near 1941 Wild and the starlab, you will be among the first to know."


    kittyboy: "Among the first. You mean when it is convenient for me to know."


    horus: "Welcome to the Vanquishers."


    I couldn''t believe this, but it shouldn''t have surprised me. I was still just a tool to be used. I opened my mission logs. I had just the one mission there, Mission 5.519.752. I added another private mission. Visit 1941 Wild. They could send me off, sure, but they couldn''t keep me away forever.


    I added a second private mission to my logs as well. Rendezvous with the Eternis. It was only a matter of time before my catnip virus activated and the ship signaled me. I had to make sure I was ready. And I needed to figure out a way to get my crew onboard with what I had in mind.


    horus: "You should reach out to other Vanquishers. Their union is called Dominion. You''ll learn something, I''m sure, and you have time. It will take you about 8 hours and 46 minutes to reach your location."


    kittyboy: "So that''s it then, huh?"


    horus: "Do the mission. We''re counting on you. The rest has to wait."


    kittyboy: "What about this human problem? How am I supposed to keep @bitchfrog alive when I''m supposed to sell her off as cargo?"


    The thought made me sick. I''d have to try to remember not to kill every one of the slavers and human traffickers. Or maybe I could add that to the mission. Seek and destroy.


    horus: "You created that problem when you picked @bitchfrog. It was always going to be someone on your crew. You just happened to accidentally line up a compelling detail. Models on your success went up by 17.3% once you had a human aboard."


    How dare he put that back on me! I just picked semi-random people to be on the crew. I had no idea I''d be forced into trafficking them, made to do horrible things in the name of the Extrovert Starmada. I suddenly regretted accepting the position. At least as a Wavepilot it was always just my ass on the line.


    kittyboy: "I deal with it."


    horus: "Don''t forget, you''re a Vanquisher now. You''re not supposed to die. Good luck."


    Motherfucker!


    My anxiety was spiking, and I was starting to get a headache. Thoughts were spinning through my head, mostly about @bitchfrog. How would I protect her? Would she nibble through all the paper in our cargo? I was hungry and thought about finally getting my chicken waffles, but I knew my stomach wouldn''t have been able to handle it. No need to start the mission off with diarrhea. Turns out bananas had been a good choice. Kudos to my subconscious.


    I had 48 minutes before I had to brief the crew. I decided now was a good time to break in my fluffy butterfly rug and take a nap.

 3.6 - Bar None

    Ten hours and fourteen minutes later, I was sitting at the fanciest bar on Psyche asteroid, surrounded by some of the most egotistical, posh, uber entitled Introverts and Extroverts in the sector. What? Introverts and Extroverts? Yes, that''s right.


    Tourism was so important economically that Psyche managed to stay neutral in the war between Introverts and Extroverts. Taking a side would have been bad for business, so much so that it was more financially sound to pay a mercenary police presence to keep the peace or handle skirmishes than risk losing customers. Money heals all things, I guess. And destroys them.


    A lot of asteroids were tourist traps, and therefore many of them claimed to be neutral. Not all of them. You wouldn''t see an Extrovert on Super Boy Outsandia, for example, despite the catchy name. But at least we had a pocket of neutral territories to further complicate the war.


    Asteroids made for a perfect, isolated way to immerse yourself in whatever the local "thing" was. We had Las Vegastroid, Space Rock Hall of Fame, Meateorite Rib Festival, and Jurassteroid Park to name a few.


    And Psyche? What was their thing? Well ...


    Psyche looks like a potato and has a surface area of about 64,000 square miles, putting it around the size of the State of Wisconsin back in ancient Earth''s United States of America. The people of Psyche, unfortunately, embraced the potato shape. Psyche has two large craters that look like eyes. Bar None was near the center of the settlement in the largest eye, the city of Ojo, also known as "The Eye of the Potato," where a population of 3.71 million "Potato Heads" lived and worked.


    If you weren''t familiar with the old Earth Mr. Potato Head, all you had to do was get close enough to Psyche and you''d be inundated with it.


    When you landed, the first question at Customs wasn''t, "What is the purpose of your visit?" It was, "Do you like potatoes?"


    If you answered incorrectly, you couldn''t step foot on Psyche, and you''d risk being put on a permanent ban from the asteroid and its surrounding minor space stations. I also heard that if any of the chain restaurants on Psyche got their hands on that list, you wouldn''t be served at any of those restaurants throughout the solar system. Did they have the best french fries in the solar system? Probably.


    So when I was asked, my answer was, "Gimme gimme gimme, those delicious potatoes!" I played it up a bit, since I was dressed all fancy for the mission, and I figured the rich guy would be a bit over-the-top, having all that material wealth. @bitchfrog said I was just playing myself, so she refused to critique my acting skills.


    Bar None was nice. All the rare materials were here. Real leather on the barstools and chairs, paper coasters for your drinks, large decorative fig and lime trees filling some of the open spaces between tables. Like most rooms in space, the interior leaned toward bright, but with UVB lamps to give off a steady bit of Vitamin D from time to time based on who was sitting at the table.


    The centerpiece of Bar None was a large Dragon Blood Tree. It was the fixture of the space, right in the center, with the bar''s spruce wooden counter circling around it. The Dragon Blood Tree''s trunk and branches all spread from the bottom upward and outward, like an umbrella, forming a sort of platform at the top. That platform was full of the tree''s greenery. I would have come to Psyche just for this.


    The bar served small plates of food and borrowed from the Dragon Blood Tree''s red sap and berries in its plate decoration, tasty bites, and beverage concoctions. The little umbrellas on all the drinks also were crafted to look like little Dragon Blood Trees.


    It was an odd contrast to all the potato paraphernalia everywhere else around the city of Ojo. Psyche had prospered, however, as a result of the potato fetish. Ojo itself was pretty magnificent, a maze of skyways and superstructures, giving off a rosy shade of light. Ojo, being in the crater, was laid out like an octopus, with docking ports at the end of every tentacle. Getting to the center was "part of the adventure," and holy tater tots were there plenty of opportunities to buy all things potato that you could eat, drink, wear, ride, hang on a wall, play with, or just simply use as a paperweight.


    The most popular game at every bar, street corner, or dark alley ...?


    Hot Potato, of course!


    But this was not your typical kid''s game. Most of the time, people played for money. However, there was the occasional backstreet, hidden room game, where aiways put their lives on the line.


    Drop the potato or be the one holding it when the music stops, and you earn yourself a bullet to the brain. Sure, you''d be reanimated if you could afford it, but one of the rules was "clean slate." That meant that all stored memories had to stop once the game began. You''d be reanimated, but you wouldn''t remember anything that happened during the game of Hot Potato. Talk about skullduggery paradise. This was a great way to make transactions that you didn''t want tracked or remembered. Hence, its appeal.


    Most played for money though. If you listened to any of the locals long enough, everyone knew someone who was financially ruined playing Hot Potato. Country music still lived on over the centuries, and here on Ojo, the woes and misfortunes of Hot Potato lent themselves to plenty of catchy tunes.


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    We also got unsolicited advice on where to play and where not to play Hot Potato, as some establishments had been accused of cheating and stopping the music to intentionally to rig the match. As a result, there were now dozens of public radio stations on Psyche that only played Hot Potato match music, so that anyone could play a "fair" match of Hot Potato. Locals would also tell you, however, that the real money wasn''t made at any of the "radio games."


    "Radio games ''re fer tourists," one man with potato shaped shoes and a thick red mustache blabbered at us. He looked like he needed a bath, and he smelled of fried food. "Fer tourists. You go to Potato Skin Pint you wanna real game."


    "Ah, my good friend," I replied. "Thank you, thank you." I had no intention of going to Potato Skin Pint. Not today anyway. But keeping up the appearance of wealth, I proxed him some qcoins and thanked him for the advice.


    As fancy as Bar None was, there was still a Hot Potato ring down a hallway, and you could hear the distinct hollering from the matches no matter how much they tried to keep the rest of the bar serene. I figured this was intentional, so they could remind their wealthy patrons that they could lose money and have a great time doing it just steps away.


    <hr>


    I sat at a luxurious corner table, with plush white leather padding, and a birch tabletop coated in a rose infused polyurethane. @astrowave had accompanied me, and I reluctantly allowed @bitchfrog to come with, sort of my way of showing off the merchandise.


    The bar was about half full, mostly of people who looked like me, although I was the only one with a human at my table. My black and purple suit would have stood out in most places, but not so much here.


    Three women in beautiful spacedresses sat closest to us. Their spacedresses flowed out from the hip down, but clasped at the ankles, where they were connected to decorative skinsuits underneath. This was practical. In the case of a sudden loss of gravity, no one wanted clothing floating about in undesirable ways. But it also became another way of displaying high fashion.


    One of them had short black hair and kept bobbing her leg up and down. Her dress was dark red, and her skinsuit was a black mesh with balloon shapes. You could see the skinsuit along her neckline, where the dress itself opened at sharp angles to showcase the beautiful skinsuit. The mesh suit covered her neckline and ran down over her hips, all the way to her ankles, where she dangled from her foot a comfortable red flat that matched her dress.


    This was the common fashion, I learned from @bitchfrog, in popular circles. The dress was interesting, but it was the skinsuits that made the statement. One could only see the neckline, the ankles, and in some cases they would include long sleeves down to the wrist to further show off the decorative suit. A blonde woman at the table had a similar dress, but hers was more modest, purple not unlike my own, with a cream skinsuit that had potato shapes. Go figure. The third woman had a black dress with rainbow skinsuit. That was the coolest by far, but for whatever reason it was the bobbing red dress that caught my attention.


    Moving objects usually do that to me.


    I also noticed two men in the corner, both wearing suits similar to mine but with a long collar on one side and no collar on the other. Suits are pretty much suits anywhere. However, like the women, you could see skinsuits on them as well, peaking out at the wrist, ankle, and under the collar. The bar was loaded with people like this, chatting away, smiling. Couples having dinner, friends having an expensive laugh.


    A woman in green at one of the tables waved to her party and headed back to the Hot Potato room, making a fake OMG face with her hands framing her face, as she excitedly went off to game.


    The woman with the black balloons and bobbing leg suddenly noticed me, and I made eye contact briefly, as casually as I could, while also then turning my attention back toward the bar and the Dragon Blood Tree. Curious, I thought, but then again, I am a wealthy stranger here, and I''m supposed to attract some attention. It also could have been that I had a human with me. We got plenty of glances. That''s partly what Bar None was all about, a "who''s who" festival for elite society.


    A pale bald man, in his 30s like most aiways, finally approached us. He had an electronic eyeglass over his left eye, obviously scanning us, but otherwise he was nothing but polite, as you would expect at a fancy place like this.


    "And what can I get you gentlemen to drink?" he asked, conveniently ignoring the obvious human female at our table.


    I looked at @astrowave. "Dragon Sap Spritzer for the gentleman," he said. "I''ll take a potato water." He followed the waiter''s lead by ignoring @bitchfrog, who grunted at him. "She''s been fed," he said, ignoring her and dismissing the waiter.


    "She''s been fed," she muttered angrily at @astrowave after the waiter had left.


    "All part of the show, @bitchfrog," I interjected. I noticed that the black balloon woman had stopped bobbing her leg and was now making conversation with the rest of her table.


    "I know," @bitchfrog whispered, playing the part and looking down at the rosy birch tabletop.


    "That doesn''t mean it''s easy," I continued, "and that doesn''t mean it doesn''t make you feel like shit." She did then glance at me, and I nodded back. I promise I''ll do my best, I thought to myself. Don''t let the human die.


    A few minutes later, baldy returned with our drinks. The two men in blue suits had gone off to the Hot Potato room as well. Normal bar stuff, I assumed. Nothing suspicious as far as I could tell.


    Right on queue, I sipped my Dragon Sap Spritzer and flipped the paper coaster over. It read 3101A, which would be the room we needed to visit.


    We had messaged ahead to lay the groundwork. We weren''t here for food and drinks, and baldy knew that. We wanted to meet with @diamonddocker, who ran a small but profitable set of merchant ships from his penthouse above Bar None, and now we knew it was okay to proceed.


    I pocketed my coaster and nodded to @astrowave. He stood first, and then the three of us made our way to the back corridor to the elevator.


    I nodded at baldy on our way, and I glanced back at black balloon girl. Her head was facing the other direction, but the woman across from her noticed my look and with her eyes, must have signaled to black ballon girl, whose right leg started bobbing again.


    I was disappointed to leave the gorgeous Dragon Blood Tree behind in exchange for white metal hallways and rose-colored lights. But there was work to do. Work I hated to do, but work is work.

 3.7 - The Penthouse

    I should feel bad about breaking the elevator at Bar None, but I don''t. It was a stupid elevator. And I didn''t break it to the point where it wouldn''t work, I just cracked a button a tiny bit.


    Apparently, all I had to do was scan the coaster against this black panel that had a sensor, which was unmarked by the way and just looked like a black panel on the wall. There was no signage whatsoever. So yeah, I pushed for floor 31 several times before I switched from finger to fist.


    Luckily, I had @bitchfrog to stop me from being a further idiot. She politely moaned her disapproval, shouldered me away, took my precious coaster, and tapped it on the secret black panel that only humans know about. When it beeped, she tapped the broken button, raised her eyebrow at me in a very superior way, and gave me back my coaster.


    bitchfrog: "Are you really going to sell me?"


    kittyboy: "Not right this minute. I might need you to help me with more elevators. But when the time comes ... yeah, I think we''ll have to."


    She seemed resigned to this, but I appreciated her verbalizing her continued nervousness. It wasn''t without a lot of discussion in our hours of preparation for the mission that we threw out other scenarios. But, in truth, if we believed people were being shipped off to be zombified, the best way to find the location was to get shipped there. None of us liked it.


    bitchfrog: "I shouldn''t have eaten the cookie."


    kittyboy: "It''s not too late to back out. I won''t be offended. I don''t like it either. I figured our Vanquishing would be more of the bang bang type."


    bitchfrog: "No. This is what I signed up for. I wanted to be a medic with more field experience. You get what you ask for."


    astrowave: "And then some, if you ask me. But don''t mind me. I''m just here to look intimidating."


    kittyboy: "You always look intimidating. I mean, most of this mission you could probably just play asteroids on your hud."


    @astrowave paused just long enough for me to laugh.


    kittyboy: "Are you blasting asteroids right now?"


    astrowave: "Not right now. A lot to see here on Psyche. Besides, I have to be on the lookout. Details matter. I''m not just a walking bomb you know."


    kittyboy: "Noted. And good! I need someone to help keep us all alive."


    Sometimes I wonder if when I meet people, their immediate reaction is to want to kill me. I mean, as a Wavepilot, that was pretty much my day-to-day experience. It''s just that, in that case, they wanted to kill me because I was an enemy pilot. It had nothing to do with me as a person.


    I asked myself that because as soon as I saw @diamonddocker I wanted to kill him. I didn''t want to just kill him. I wanted to shoot him in some not so interesting places, followed by more interesting places. I didn''t want to torture him. Torture is cruel by definition. I wanted him to realize he was going to die first.


    Actually, I take that back. I wanted to shoot him in the head, as quickly and efficiently as possible, to be done with it. Every moment of him breathing made me want to bite him on the foot. I wanted cold, hard, quick death.


    First off, he dressed like someone who knew that they were both attractive and had money. Black mustache, casual v-neck spaceshirt that showed just a little chest hair, spaceflops for shoes, and the stupid smirk you would expect on someone who needed to be punched his whole adult life but never was.


    His voice was similar to mine, and that really pissed me off.


    But the worst part was his ocular lens.


    It was the fucking coolest ocular lens I had ever seen. It attached to the side of his head, in a sleek slim design that formed around his face and then made a little glass ring around his left eye. Every so often the glass would go black, an odd blinking sensation.


    I wanted it soooo badly. I was so transfixed on his ocular lens, that I missed the first part of our discussion entirely.


    "... and so as I was saying," @diamonddocker was saying, "that''s why we need to lobby so hard for import taxes on finished goods. What rate were you paying on your paper and dirt shipments?"


    "What brand is that?" I asked instead, pointing rudely at his eye.


    I could tell @bitchfrog was about to lose her shit. Who knows what I had said before? Had I said anything? Was I just sitting there like an idiot? Under normal circumstances, I could see her jumping right in, answering the questions, slapping me on the shoulder to snap me out of it.


    But she had to be a servant or a prisoner, or both, right now. It was driving her mad.


    @diamonddocker jerked his head at my question, but then answered and smiled proudly, pointing at his unit ... the ocular lens. "This is an ILuViewer590. Technically, it''s a prototype, but I know the CEO, @bolywipper. I did a few favors for him in exchange. That''s how this business works you know. It''s not just about the qcoins." He gestured at @bitchfrog with his head, his eye blinking erratically at her and at me. "You know what I mean?"


    Ugh, just let me shoot him!


    "Well, that''s why I''m here," I answered. "My paper''s not worth the dirt it was grown on." I thought I was being clever, but aloud it sounded like I was implying my paper was a rip off. That was fine I guess. I could run with it. Sometimes my mind did things on purpose before I could catch up. I was sure I''d figure it out.


    "Taxes rising, costs of ingredients rising, it''s just not where the money is anymore." I still had some of my Dragon Tree Spritzer, so I sipped it and tried to sound totally casual about human trafficking while trying not to vomit. "I want to ... diversify," I said, waving my hands casually, in the hinting general direction of @bitchfrog.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    I set my drink down. @diamonddocker was nodding at me approvingly. Instead of going on, I paused.


    That was the one thing that I learned from another Vanquisher. Stop talking. Pause and listen. You see! You didn''t think I would, but I listened to @horus''s advice. I joined the Dominion chat with all the other Vanquishers, and I met an angry person named @echocrow who told me to shut the fuck up. I talk a lot, so it''s not like I was upset. I practically begged him to lose his shit with all my blabbering. But he told me to shut up in the most instructive way.


    "Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up right now! Now! Shut up! Shut the fuck up right now! You need to learn that the best way to get information is to shut the fuck up. Make them talk. Shut the fuck up!"


    I tried @echocrow''s advice on him, but he was silent.


    @diamonddocker was a totally different animal. He wanted to talk. I knew he wanted to talk. So I sat silently. @echocrow would have been amazed.


    He pointed out his windows where he had several ships visibly docked, similarly gold like mine. Another reason to hate him. "As you can see, I''ve managed to keep my profits up, despite the economic hardships we face - not just here on Psyche but across the Beltway. It helps to be connected. And I assure you, that''s where the real value is. Connections."


    I stayed quiet and nodded at him, all pleasant and buddy buddy.


    "You''re lucky you found me," he continued. "My intel says this is your first time on Ojo. You should savor all it has to offer. Bar None has more than hot things to play with than just potatoes." He moved over to a beverage station and retrieved another glass of whatever he had. Probably potato brandy. "But let''s start with a drink, shall we?"


    I don''t drink. Certain drinks I can handle, but others make me kind of sick to my stomach. I learned this the hard way, and yes, I could have it adjusted, but I felt more authentic with some dietary restrictions. In this case, I was in an awkward position where I really needed to say yes to him, and I really couldn''t insult potatoes or I''d be arrested.


    The effects wouldn''t be horrible. I wouldn''t need my medic, which was damn good because that would totally blow our cover. But I couldn''t believe the negative effects of the alcohol would go unnoticed either.


    "Absolutely," I lied. "I''ve been trying to sample as many papus tater drinks I could stomach." I hoped papus tater meant something to someone. I just kind of made it up. Sounded like potatoes in Latin to me. I checked. I was way off. The Extronet says Latin for potatoes is solanum tuberosum.


    In my head I pictured myself as a wizard, casting the magical spell, solanum tuberosum, and seeing thousands of potatoes fall from the sky.


    @diamonddocker brought me a drink despite the stupid words coming out of my mouth. We clinked glasses, and I downed the most putrid dirty beverage of filth and body sweat that I''ve ever tasted in my life, or in the life of my origin @henryhound.


    This was horrible.


    But human trafficking made me want to vomit a million times more, so I sat there, and I took it. I took that atrocious wastewater like a champion. I swallowed that drink like it was the best thing I''d ever tasted. It was probably the most expensive by light years.


    "Now this," I even said. "This is living, my friend."


    I did do that. I did say my friend. I was that guy now. I hated myself.


    "I''m eager to learn more about these hot potatoes," I continued, dying with another sip of rotten potato juice. "But to business."


    I was certain I would die from a tuberism. My stomach agreed. This was a drink I definitely couldn''t handle. I''d have about ten minutes before I would need a soundproof bathroom.


    "I came into a bit of a ... disagreement, with another gentleman, about what I meant when I said my products were dirty." I flicked an elbow toward @bitchfrog. "He simply wouldn''t be appeased, so I had to put him down. Temporarily of course. But as recompense, I did steal off with this souvenir."


    I didn''t hide anything at that point and looked straight at my medic, @bitchfrog, playing the perfect part, while the puke rose in our throats and we desperately wanted to message each other. We just couldn''t use our chat for fear of detection.


    "As a result, I have a problem I need to ... dispose of. But I''m not about to do it without turning a profit. So, it presented me with a unique opportunity." I beamed at @diamonddocker. "I want to test the market. See if I like the market. Diversify."


    I was wrong about ten minutes before needing a bathroom.


    @diamonddocker sat quietly for a moment, leaning back, stroking his mustache (better that than his chest hair), and took another long drink while he looked me over with is gorgeous ocular lens.


    "I know a guy."


    He said it so simply.


    I know a guy. Yeah. I wouldn''t be here if I didn''t know that you know a guy.


    I know a guy. Like human trafficking is as simple and straightforward as needing a circuit replaced on your starship''s command console.


    A stupid story formed in my head. A man walks into a bar. Got a dinged panel in the cockpit near the power display. Been bothering me for weeks, he says.


    I know a guy, replies the bartender.


    I hated @diamonddocker, but I tried not to show it. I nodded, mirroring his relaxed and casual demeanor. Even @astrowave was starting to twitch visibly. Not sure if anyone else noticed that, but I sure did.


    "Send me the details," I said, simple nod. "And in return? Favor for favor? Cheek for cheek? Potato for potato?"


    @diamonddocker did what I figured a prick would do. He started to eye my medic and my weapons expert. Technically, I had only run around the ship screaming, This is mine, touching all the ship parts. I didn''t think I''d need to lay claim to the people on my crew.


    "Do you have more than this one?" He was talking about @bitchfrog and wanted to know if I had more humans.


    "Unfortunately, it is a one-time problem," I answered.


    "Perhaps I can be the solution," @diamonddocker suggested.


    "You are, but not in that way," I said. "As I said, I want to test the market. If I like it, I could cut you in on a percentage as a finder''s fee."


    He knew this. @diamonddocker wouldn''t be fooled by a silly former Wavepilot masquerading as a spy. I knew I was clever, super witty, but I didn''t like my odds negotiating with this guy. But I knew what he would think is a good deal, and what he would then demand on top of that.


    At that point, I really needed to get out of there as fast as possible. I farted, happy that it was just a fart. I was going to poop myself from all the disgusting potato alcohol that was destroying my digestive system.


    "45% as the finder''s fee," @diamonddocker stated. "And a future favor. No questions asked, but nothing that would require death and reanimation."


    45% was steep. But my character was supposed to be a wealthy merchant in dirt and paper. If he was only partially serious about this new venture, he might not care. I had to balance my personal health and embarrassment against what my merchant would say. I wish my merchant persona dealt in toilet paper, I absently thought.


    "41% and the favor as you described." I stood up as I said it, trying to squeeze my butt cheeks together, trying not to look frantic, and trying not to make eye contact with @bitchfrog or @astrowave.


    @diamonddocker stood with me, and paused again, before reaching his hand out. "Done. I''ll connect you."


    I grabbed his hand just as the shit started flowing down my pants.


    Stupid potato alcohol!!!


    I noticed the smell reach @diamonddocker''s nose as he started to suspect what was happening. "No takebacks," I said.


    I won''t go into what happened after that. @astrowave and @bitchfrog are not allowed to fill you in. They are insufferable, and they are not one bit as funny as they think they are.


    I''ll just say this. I left a trail behind me. But I did it on purpose so I could find my way back using bio scanners. It was all part of a bigger plan.


    I added another private mission to my log, Steal @diamonddocker''s Ocular Lens and Kill Him. I would follow my skid mark. I would come back here, steal the ocular lens, show it to him while cheering gleefully in his face, and then shoot him dead while insulting potatoes.

 3.8 - Itokawa

    So, of course, that asshole @diamonddocker would send me to Itokawa, the former asteroid that I sort of fracked into non-asteroid status. I''ll tell you more about that some other time, but basically, we were there to mine (Remember? I was a miner before I was a Wavepilot). Well, it didn''t go so well. Now it was more like a flotilla.


    This flotilla-city was a collection of habitats, shops, ports, warehouses, med labs, and the other common buildings a settlement would need (bars and restaurants aplenty), along with the bits of the asteroid itself fastened together with metal pipes and connected by spaceways. It was impressive, but also hard to navigate given the lack of planning. Some of the spaceways gave a nice view of space and all the other spaceways, but using that to navigate was unreliable.


    In short, from inside the spaceways, it was a maze. Traders believed this was a maze on purpose, to make it easy to hide, escape, and transport anything the Celestial Customs and Commerce Commission (4C) didn''t want transported without their official stamp, things like bulbous plumeria plants. Bulbous plumeria plants have many uses, but the most common is medicinal, where it often helps with acclimation of the human body to space - everything from breathing to digestion.


    Dear Itokawa, I thought to myself. I''m sorry about the bulbous plumeria farm, and for destroying your lovely asteroid. To be fair, it was only a loosely connected bit of rocks to begin with. We should have been warned about its structural integrity. But still. I''m sorry. My bad.


    Itokawa was pretty cool if you thought about it. They hated miners, whom they now called "frackers," so if you wanted to start a rebellion or get yourself thrown out into space to die, all you had to do was affiliate yourself with a mining company or say something stupid.


    I would never do that.


    Itokawa also didn''t have potatoes! They had gangs, miscreants, smugglers, gamblers, debtors, unlicensed medics, biotic enhancers, runaway aiways, you name it. It wasn''t perfect. But no potatoes! I was sure they had some backroom Hot Potato match somewhere, but I''ll be damned if I have to suffer through another meal of potatoes paired with drinks of potatoes. When we got back to the ship from our meeting with @diamonddocker, the first thing I did was grab a nice cold glass of filtered water, before proceeding to an evening on the toilet.


    The next order of business before heading to Itokawa was to get a new paintjob for The Pharaoh. I couldn''t be the fancy merchant for this part of the mission. Yes, I was playing the same character, but on Itokawa, if I showed up in a golden ship in a fancy suit, I would probably not make it down more than a few hallways before being abducted or killed. Fancy people did fancy business in other places, like around Bar None. Here, fitting in meant going unnoticed until you wanted to be noticed.


    I was going to miss the gold and blue on The Pharaoh. Maybe I''d revert to that color scheme when it made sense to do so. But, for now, I needed to blend in.


    There were plenty of places in space to get work done on a ship, and I had a decent number of qcoins at my disposal as part of my Vanquisher position. Part of the mission budget was the repainting, with a shop far enough away from Psyche to discreetly alter the ship.


    We stopped at Steve''s Ship & Shop, where they refabbed The Pharaoh and turned it into a black and red beauty. As much as I missed the gold and blue, when Steve showed me the ship, I over-enthusiastically hugged him repeatedly.


    "Now THIS is a Dominator worthy of a Vanquisher!" I screamed, then realized that Steve wasn''t supposed to know about all that. I could have panicked, but instead I opted for promising him more business on my ships. My Extronet data queries told me this was not unusual. Besides, he knew something was up anyway. People don''t just go around mucking with their ships for fun. It''s expensive work.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    And I liked Steve and most of the folks in his shop anyway. He told me all about his mother''s obsession with knitting and his dog, Puffy, who sported a knitted sweater and loved to sit on people''s laps.


    With the ship being ready, I also needed to ditch my purple and black fancy suit. The suit needed to be incinerated anyway after my issues with the potato beverage, but I was happy to see it go. Not my style. I had a few options that I''d picked out at Steve''s Ship and Shop. I couldn''t find anything on Psyche that didn''t have potatoes on it, in it, or around it. The selection wasn''t fantastic, but I picked up jeans and a gray hoodie. I threw in a black knitted cold-weather hat his mother made for good measure. He wanted to give it to me for free, but I insisted.


    My outfit for Itokawa included one more key item. The Extrovert Starmada had provided a real leather jacket. It had to be real. In most parts of the system, this would indicate that I was in the leather trade, cattle, goats, etc. But in other parts of the solar system, leather meant human trade. Leather was also part of elite fashion, or "old Earth" fashion, so it wasn''t like everyone wearing leather was a trader. The first signal, however, of a tradesperson was wearing real leather. The second was a simple letter, inked in temporary ink so it could be altered on the middle of the forearm or on the ankle.


    4C would sometimes ask people to show their arms or ankles to check. C for cattle. G for goats. H for humans. Of course, no one put the H there. Instead, all I would need to do is tap the middle of my forearm with two fingers (middle finger and index finger, which is the letter H <u>in </u>old American Sign Language).


    I realized, after staring at myself in the holo-projector, that basically this is what I would choose to wear if I wasn''t in Extrovert Starmada uniforms all the time. Maybe not the real leather jacket. I didn''t feel super comfortable in it mentally, although it was actually a very comfortable jacket physically. I felt much more at home dressed down like this, and it started to sync in that as a Vanquisher, I''d be able to do this most of the time. I would only need the uniform for official Extrovert Starmada business.


    We flew into Itokawa and made for the Port of Alloy, it''s largest port of entry. Not that it was huge. Itokawa had been regrowing at a high rate ever since I fracked it apart, forcing the population to build the spaceway maze and other new structures. Suddenly, it was more popular. Unsavory, but popular. Yes, I''m trying to find the positives.


    If I''m being fair, crime also skyrocketed. This was the smuggler capital of the solar system. The Celestial Customs and Commerce Commission (4C) had a presence here, but it was understood that some of that was for show. When 4C had tried to exert more influence, bad things happened. The thing is, 4C is not an Introvert or Extrovert agency. It was one of the dozen or so organizations that supported both and operated at the Solar System level, with mixed success in different parts of the system.


    Here, in neutral territory, you would think 4C had more influence, but the reality was that Itokawa didn''t care at all about the rest of the solar system. No one here really did. They wanted to get away from all of this. These were people who clung to the outskirts, entrepreneurial folks who just wanted to be left alone. And they had guns. And they had gangs.


    I pulled The Pharaoh in and landed among the Port of Alloy towers, where they had long-term docking for 40 moderately sized ships. There were similar towers in different regions of Itokawa to accommodate visitors, and rates were expected to continue going up as the area grew. Ships coming and going to drop off and pick up from Itokawa had their separate zone. We would have to shell out a few hundred qcoins for a three-day visit. I took docking space Blue 29, Port of Alloy.


    I hated leaving the ship. The Pharaoh was starting to feel more like home in these few early days with the crew. We did puzzles and played games in the common area, spent nights watching movie together, and generally had a peaceful trip. But there''s work to do.


    Among the crew, I hadn''t really gotten to know @foxcutter very much, so I opted to have him join me on Itokawa. Besides, this was a nefarious place by reputation, so having a biodatascientist who could do some extra hacking and sensory extravaganza would be handy.


    I forced him to pick from the other clothes the Extrovert Starmada thought I might need. They knew I needed the leather jacket, but of course we didn''t know where the path would take us. He ended up in gray pants and a light yellow long-sleeved shirt that he cuffed at the wrists.


    We set out from the ship to get ourselves in trouble.


    Get yourself into as much trouble as you can get out of.


    That''s one of my mottos in life, and it described this mission pretty well. Itokawa, here we come.

 3.9 - The Cosmic Gutter

    I realized we were being followed after the fourth checkpoint.


    For a location known as the heart of the criminal underworld, there was a lot of security. Itokawa is divided into districts, horizontally and vertically, and each had a security checkpoint. We were entering Lazlo District in the early evening when I caught the quick flash of a hand sign I recognized from a man in a medical uniform who appeared to be heading home for the day.


    The halls of Itokawa were dimly lit, and everything had an industrial feel of darker metal, iron and alloys, dusty and dingy, typical of a settlement on a chondrite asteroid. They clearly didn''t have enough cleaning bots to handle the volume of people and materials that moved through the city.


    I just happened to be looking at the right time to spot the slight movement, his thumb making two brief sweeps upward against his index and middle finger, tilted toward us, while a man in a rust-colored jacket several paces away, walking along with the crowd and looking seemingly in the other direction, gave a tap to his left shoulder.


    They were passing us from one person to another to make it harder for us to notice, and this also meant that now that I was paying attention, two things were likely. Either I would tip my hand and they would notice I saw them, or I would lose track of who was following us.


    Either way, we had a 73.3% chance of getting jumped or otherwise intercepted at some point.


    "The zabba wordon falty we''re being woop followed space noodles," I said to @foxcutter between mixed in gibberish to make it look like I was saying something different, while I stared at a location far ahead and to the left that looked like a scrap shop.


    I headed that way, bumping into @foxcutter while he mumbled back. "Watermelon since watermelon boogie we landed thermal punctulator."


    That made sense, and of course @foxcutter had picked up on it sooner. I was a little irritated at first that he hadn''t notified me, but then I remembered the weird gestures he had been making, slapping his palm against his wrist, then repeatedly against his chest like he was coughing and trying to extract some phlegm; he even slapped me across the face, the bastard. I didn''t know @foxcutter well, so I thought maybe he just liked talking with his hands. Oops.


    @diamonddocker had given us a location, Void''s Edge, a bar (of course) in the Shaft District, deeper in the central part of Itokawa. But he didn''t give us a name. Supposedly, whomever we were going to meet would approach us. That wasn''t reassuring because in a place like this you never really know who is approaching you or with what intentions. But it was all we had to go on.


    "Lovely wacka wacka lettuce bonkers scrap shop watermelon ooze trigger penis flip flops," I instructed.


    @foxcutter stifled a laugh and nudged me, motioning toward the scrap shop.


    "Lemon porche zinger that''s what I fugamutter said stupid feces eater!" I exclaimed, making angry eyes at him.


    He wasn''t a great actor. He threw his arms out wide and nodded. "Ohhhh!" Then he laughed and headed toward the scrap shop at a quick pace.


    I tried to use a sonar signature to track the person following us, analyzing the sounds around us, trying to use my peripheral vision and sound queues to get an auditory sense of where they were, but it was too crowded in this corridor, the various aiways around us providing too much noise. If they were any good at their jobs, which I suspected they were, they would be pacing their movements to be undetected anyway. I couldn''t risk sending out a sonar ping. Something like that would be too obvious, and I assumed everyone around us would notice immediately. That would just be a good way of getting the attention of the guards or asking for a mob to haul us away. There''s certain things you just don''t do in a place like this.


    But, with any luck, we''d lose them after the scrap shop, a place called the Cosmic Gutter. I liked it as soon as I saw the sign. While the maze of hallways on Itokawa were fairly narrow, this allowed for the shops to be much larger, contributing in part to the maze effect. In some locations, the hallway merged with the shop, restaurant, bar, etc. so there was no way to proceed without walking through. These little "shopping corridors" were part of the wonder of Itokawa. You could simply walk to where you wanted to go and get food, a haircut, tools, a new shirt, whatever goods you needed, on your way.


    The blend of hallways and stores made it feel like a plaza - just more condensed, fitted for space, broken apart and put together in a random pattern.


    The Cosmic Gutter was one of these larger stores with an entrance from the hall, but it connected with other hallways as well. These intersection stores were the most coveted because they got more foot traffic and because the myriad of exits made them excellent places to make a quick deal and dash.


    @foxcutter and I strolled casually into the shop. Scrap shops aren''t for everyone, I''ll admit, but this place was exquisite in its organized chaos of parts stacked high on shelves, small bits that would be hard to find, large common parts - even ship modules in one section - and they would be sure to have rare parts and a back-of-shop, under the table trade of some kind for even rarer or banned goods.


    As we walked in, I noticed the security system. Open shops like this would be easy targets for shoplifters if not for the advanced tracking signatures they could place on goods and the "electric fence" around the perimeter. Swipe something, even a tiny screw, and you''d be electrocuted upon exit.


    A little shock''s not bad, right? Not here. In an aiways society, the safest way to protect something is fear of death. If I grabbed a vector flange from the stack in front of me, turned around and left, I''d be electrocuted for all to see, charred and fried until my organic body was just a corpse on the floor. They''d snap a photo and add it to the digital displays showing all the idiots who tried to steal from them. That would also likely earn me a ban from Itokawa, period. So I''d have to be reanimated and then I''d still be quarantined.


    The rascal in me saw it as a challenge. I immediately felt the urge to steal something, just like all those idiots on the screen. Those who got away with it were legends, even if they didn''t survive long after escaping. I had seen several aged posters for @rocketplumber, the Swiper, who had robbed five different stores some 57 years ago.


    I added two side quests to my mission log: 1) Find the Swiper and 2) Steal Something from the Cosmic Gutter. My mouth salivated at the thought of it. I wondered if @foxcutter was having similar thoughts. As a skilled slicer, I had to assume he was thinking the same thing.


    "Agro flux tempting right?" I said slyly. "The cobbler ate my monkey fart drool."


    He just smiled, very foxlike. Yep. He was thinking the same thing.


    We didn''t have time to waste, but I did want to see if they had a quarkwire, the fastest data transfer method available, or at least a lepton router for the ship to improve the comms. They would be expensive. I almost surely didn''t have the funds. But I wanted to know. Curiosity, you know. Besides, I needed to figure out what I wanted to steal from the Cosmic Gutter when I returned to rob them. Priorities.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    We wandered through the loose parts section. I didn''t see a ton of interest, mostly common parts. When we we got to the tools I had to stop myself from taking everything around me. I needed all of these tools. I needed them in my workbench area on the ship. All of them. Especially the ones I didn''t know how to use that looked dangerous.


    "I need this," I said, grabbing onto a gravity hammer and pretending to smash @foxcutter with it. He laughed at first, but then I started walking away with it, and he grabbed my shoulder.


    "You can''t walk around here with that," he said.


    "And why not?" I said, hefting the hammer over my shoulder and staring at him.


    "We''re trying to be discreet," he said bluntly.


    I looked around me, gave him a disapproving incredulous look, my eyes bulging, my arms out in frustration. "Why don''t you just tell everybody. Do you want me to shout it?" I stood taller, looking around again, and I shouted. "We''re trying to be discreet!"


    @foxcutter grabbed me, trying to shut me up.


    "I want to buy a hammer!" I yelled. "I need a hammer."


    Shoppers and passersby wandering the corridor, turned to stare, but most simply made annoying faces and kept walking, or chuckled and shook their heads. A guard looked our way, interested but mostly amused. I mean, come on, everyone here was trying to be discreet. I was just trying to hide in plain sight and to annoy @foxcutter.


    @foxcutter kept grabbing at me. "Shhh! Shut up. Stop it!" He flapped his silly grabby arms at me.


    While he was distracted by trying to take the gravity hammer from me, I snagged a fabricator pen in my left hand, still shouting. "This hammer is my friend! You wouldn''t take my friend away. He''s all I''ve got!" I clung to the gravity hammer, shifting my body away from @foxcutter. Meanwhile, I palmed the fabricator pen and slipped it up snugly into the sleeve of my leather jacket. I was going to pay for it, but I didn''t want @foxcutter to see it.


    "We belong together!" I yelled.


    Finally, @foxcutter gave up. I realized we were both a little out of breath from fighting over the gravity hammer, which is quite heavy by the way, when you want it to be. It floats until you toggle it on and then it thuds with incredible force. I love pistols, but this was a wonderful tool and a great melee weapon at the same time.


    "Satisfied?" @foxcutter finally said.


    How dare he treat me like a child!


    "Remember, I''m your captain. This is my mission." I lowered the hammer to my side, letting it dangle next to my feet. "I could just send you back to the ship, but what fun is that?"


    He made a weird face that gave me a sense of his mild frustration.


    "Come on," I said casually. "That was fun. You can''t pretend that you aren''t going to laugh about this later. I know I will."


    "If I say no, are you going make a scene again?"


    I patted @foxcutter on the shoulder. "You''re learning. Besides, I want to talk with the shopkeeper. That means I have to buy something." Technically, it doesn''t, but shopkeepers are more open to talking with people who spend qcoins than people who aren''t going to buy anything and just waste their time asking question after question after question. The nerve of those people!


    We walked toward the checkout counter, begrudgingly leaving more lovely tools behind, through the ship parts section and into the short queue of people. The woman in front of me was buying an electricity gauge, a few random metal parts that looked like junction boxes and wall mounts, and a pack of bubble wrap. Her long brown hair was pulled up in a swirl above the collar of a medium thick jacket that had white, yellow, and orange horizontal bands.


    She rocked slowly to her right, peering back at me when we got in line, admiring my hammer. She had a pretty face, dusty like everything in this place, but pretty, with a cute nose piercing and dark brown eyes. I was preparing to flirt and say something clever when I spotted the group ahead of her - what appeared to be a man and his son.


    I gasped audibly, making her jump a step.


    "Sorry," I said to her. "It''s not you. You''re not ugly as a rock."


    She didn''t know how to respond to that. Neither did I. So I changed the subject by nodding toward the man and his son. You just don''t see children. Anywhere. That''s a very human thing. Pockets of Introverts, mostly near Earth where there are a lot of humans, still have children. You might expect to see some there around the human settlements, but in space? On Itokawa? The only thing people did with children in space was smuggle them. I was freaking out inside, horrified for the child.


    Her face softened when she saw what made me gasp. She leaned in close to whisper. "It''s not a real child," she said. "That''s a foil. Android. Becoming trendy here. He must be wealthy. You see them from time to time."


    "Why?" I asked. I noticed the slightest change in temperature. She was close enough that I could sense some of her body heat in this cold odd city.


    "Makes them feel authentic," she replied.


    I nodded and shrugged, glancing at @foxcutter, who just stared quietly.


    "I think it makes them look stupid," she added. She kept my eyes just long enough for it not to be awkward, then turned back as the man finished his exchange.


    He and the android walked off, holding hands, while the android pointed at a ship part and said, "Cool!" with that childlike enthusiasm that I have when I see something cool. It was weird though. I shivered.


    Did I want an android child? I asked myself. No. Hell no.


    But I suppose if I was settling down rather than fighting a war, gallivanting around space as a Vanquisher, maybe I''d want a family. The man certainly seemed pleased. He beamed at the child and muttered something as they plodded off. I couldn''t help but be fascinated by this. His life must be so very different. I wondered what he did, why he was on Itokawa.


    The woman finished paying for her things, taking her bag and bubble wrap. She paused just briefly as she walked past us. "Void''s Edge. Ten o''clock."


    That was it. No name. Just a time and location.


    An invitation for a drink? I wondered. But this was Itokawa. Sure, that could be it, but paranoia is a good thing. I couldn''t help but wonder if she was our contact from @diamonddocker. But he said we would be approached at Void''s Edge, not on your way to Void''s Edge.


    If it was our contact, great. If not, I''d have to navigate this woman seeing us at the bar later against trying to be alone so we could meet our contact.


    My mind on that, I instinctively placed the fabricator pen on the counter and held out my gravity hammer to be scanned and marked as sold so as to not be electrocuted.


    The woman behind the counter had a raspy voice, probably from the space dust around here, and I figured she didn''t get reanimated much. Probably she also valued it as part of her authenticity. She was thin, wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt with dirt smudges on it. She had short blond hair and blue eyes like mine. Her digitag said, "Amy."


    I fought back a gasp again. That was a human name, but this person wasn''t human. She was clearly aiways. I could sense the machinery and electronics easily. Not even @bitchfrog, who was human now, had taken on a human name as part of her re-organicization. I''d have to ask her about that.


    What was it with these people on Itokawa? The audacity to take on a human name?!? I suppose when you want to escape from the universe, this is the place to be, and in a place like this, I suppose anything goes. Android children! Human names! What was next?


    "You''re not from here," Amy chuckled at me, scanning my goods. The bill popped up on a digital window atop the counter.


    "You have any quarkwires?" I asked.


    Amy rolled her eyes at me and grabbed a metal cup sitting next to her. "You''re not from around here," she repeated, sipping at it and setting it down on the counter with a little tap tap.


    I glanced behind me. The queue was longer now, so I needed to be quick about it. I''d have to come back later for some real shopping, snooping, and maybe more money. And to scope it out so I could steal something, of course.


    "Thrusters are following you," she said calmly. "I can give you 20% off if you open up a loyalty account."


    I pinged the Extronet. The Thrusters were a local gang. So that''s who had been following us. Unless a lot of people were following us. That seemed more than plausible. Itokawans would probably jump on anyone new. One of the ways the population grew was by scamming or soliciting visitors to the point where they simply couldn''t leave.


    I tapped my wrist to pay. "Thanks for the warning."


    "Loyalty?" Amy asked, quirking her head to the side.


    "No, no loyalty," I said. I assumed it was both a Cosmic Gutter question and a coded way of finding out where my allegiances lay.


    As I collected my things, she motioned behind her to a narrow exit through the back. "In that case, you should check out our special selection on your way out."


    "Thank you, Ayummy," I said courteously, struggling to say her name.


    "Of course," she said in a chipper rasp. "See you again soon!"


    @foxcutter and I headed off down that dark and narrow passage, doing the mental model in our heads to track our path. This would take us out into a different hall where we would need to head to the right and then down a few more levels.


    Itokawa was already a pleasant surprise compared to Psyche. I couldn''t help but feel some loyalty to the place, even though I sort of blew it apart back in the day - or maybe because I had blown it apart.


    But I should have known better.


    We barely made it three steps out of the passageway from the Cosmic Gutter when we were jumped.

 4.1 - The Thrusters

    I''ve been beaten before, but it''s uncommon. As I''ve said, I usually just explode, but that was when I was a Wavepilot, and I now suspected I would have to get used to dying in many different ways. Thankfully, they didn''t beat us to death or pound us into submission.


    I experienced mostly body blows to the gut to take my breath away, followed by a bag over the head, my arms brought down to my sides, thick tape wrapping around my arms and waist like a mummy so I couldn''t move my arms, and instructions not to move. When I obliged by remaining absolutely still, they whacked me hard in the head. After I crumbled to the ground, I opted to remain limp.


    It reminded me of bonking my stupid head on my stupid old i35 ship. My poor brain. I''ve taken too many blows to the head over the last century.


    It''s actually pretty hard to knock a person unconscious. It''s much easier to pretend that you''ve been knocked unconscious. My head hurt so badly that the result was nearly the same. I had a vague recollection of the path they took. I tried to study the number of steps and general direction to distract myself from the pain as we changed districts, went down levels, and turned through passageways.


    Finally, they flung me onto a black synthetic couch.


    "Sit up," someone commanded.


    I was over on my side, my head against the seat cushions. Without my arms to lift me, I tried throwing my weight up, but I tipped back over and landed on the seat again. After a few more attempts, they grabbed me and sat me up, removing the bag so I could see.


    My nose was bleeding, dripping down to my chin and onto my nice new hoodie. I desperately wanted to wipe my face, and I could almost get it with my shoulder, but it was a useless endeavor, so I tried sucking in what I could in my mouth and spitting it out. It landed on my jeans, and I immediately regretted it as I felt it seep through and touch my skin.


    @foxcutter was on a second couch like the first, wrapped like I was in a little torso cocoon. We were in the corner of a dimly lit room with painted black brick walls and a concrete floor that they had thrown dark red rugs over. I hated dark red rugs and concrete. I knew enough that it was to make it easier to clean blood stains. A table had been in front of us, but they slid it over and now four men and a woman stood before us.


    They were all dressed in jeans or brown pants, dingy and dirty like everything seemed to be in this place, with t-shirts in white, black, and gray. The woman had a red shirt under a black jacket with sharp folds along the lapel, and it looked like if you tried to grab her neck, you might cut yourself on the collar. The others had dark brown worn jackets, suitable to hide dirt and get into a row with anyone willing to mess with them.


    Their distinguishing feature was a black and fiery orange insignia on the left leg of their pants above the knee, showing a rocket with its thrusters firing and a robot riding the rocket like a space cowboy. So, these were the Thrusters. They seemed tough, but honestly, I didn''t feel threatened based on how they were standing and the way they were looking us over, staring at us as if unsure what to do now.


    "Can we help you?" I ventured to ask. "I do have places to be, so ..."


    One of the men, a little thicker than the others and sporting a mustache and dark curly hair, in brown pants and a black shirt, motioned for the others to go. The woman stayed next to him. The other three men walked to the doorway, two wandering through and out of sight, while the third took up a position there, leaning with his back against the door frame.


    "I''m here on business," I said. "Paper and dirt trade. They call me @wrench." I spit again, this time getting some on the couch while a dangle hung from my chin. I rubbed it onto my shoulder. "We''re not here to interfere. Just a quick in and out to prospect for business."


    The mustache man nodded as I spoke, but he didn''t seem to care much.


    "We know who you are, @wrench." He looked at the woman. She shrugged back at him and then nodded, pulling up chairs for them to sit down in the space between the couches. @foxcutter looked to be much in the same state as me. I couldn''t tell what his panic level was. This was certainly different from mimes on tour.


    "Then you know that there''s really no reason for this." I tried to gesture to @foxcutter and then my own tape-wrapped torso.


    He laughed as he sat down. "I''m @golfswinger, and this is @horsehead. We know you''re here to make a special deal with someone." He made the H gesture with his fingers.


    Shit, I thought. They knew.


    But how did they know? Probably that cuss-fucker @diamonddocker tipped them off, even though I paid him for the cleaning bill. But I didn''t break character.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Then you know my rep," I said confidently, managing to stand up off the couch, watching them closely.


    "Your rep means shit here," the woman, @horsehead, responded, standing up in sync with my movements. Her voice was sweeter and more melodious than the words that came out of it. She had long blond hair that stood out in the dull and grimy surroundings. She also had my gravity hammer in her hands.


    "That''s mine," I said, nodding at the gravity hammer.


    "Come and take it," she chuckled.


    "Lick my face," I retorted. It didn''t mean anything, but it was all I could think of and my face was snot and blood, so it seemed appropriate.


    She stuck her tongue out at me, and I tried not to laugh.


    "Itokawa is a place of honor," @golfswinger interjected, still sitting casually in his chair. "And she''s right. You have no standing here. Honor and rep gets you places. You''ve got neither - not here on Itokawa anyway."


    I sat back down with an overly dramatic sigh. "So, what do you want? You want some dirt to liven up the place? Or do you want to get a broom, clean this place up, and sell me your dirt. By the look of it, you could make a few thousand qcoins just from a good cleaning."


    @golfswinger laughed. "I like your spirit. We''ll take you up on that. You better be good for the qcoins. Consider it a first step with the Thrusters."


    He snapped his fingers, and the man at the entryway wandered off. I assumed to go get a broom or a cleaning bot.


    "@diamonddocker doesn''t think we should help you," @golfswinger began.


    So it was that asshole!


    "He said you made quite a mess of his place," he continued. "Said the only reason he gave you the info was that he''s a man of his word, but that doesn''t mean you have to live long enough to use that info, or that it has to be easy." He motioned to @horsehead, who still stood there with my hammer. "We Thrusters are enterprising folks, so we''ll see if you can earn your way. We''re not exactly going to stop you, but there''s conditions."


    I nodded, accepting my fate, but the clock was ticking. "Go on then."


    "One-off transactions are easy here," @golfswinger explained. "You do the deal. Wipe your memory. It''s the safest and most secure way of doing business."


    "And we have a special way to wipe those precious memories," @horsehead added.


    @golfswinger smiled. "We''ll call that the Prometheus alternative, but with something other than your liver to be eaten." He pointed to his head.


    Cool. So, they''ll eat my brain. They didn''t even know about the zos612 zombie virus, and here they were pretending to be zombies. Everything''s coming up zombies! I started humming a little tune to myself. That would make a catchy song.


    "But we have a better option," said @golfswinger. "You want to do repeat business, then you get to keep your memories, but that means you''ve got to have honor."


    @golfswinger stood up then and pulled out a dull black pistol. One of the men came back into the room, holding a broom and a pair of scissors. He handed the scissors to @horsehead, who set the hammer down by her chair and walked over to @foxcutter.


    I hummed along while she worked on @foxcutter. Mum anum anum anum. Zombies! Mum anum anum anum. Er er. First, she cut a chunk of his hair from his head, which she shoved in her pocket. Then she started working on the tape to free him. As if she needed to explain her weirdness, she glanced at me as she snipped away at the tape. "I''m making a mane from organic hair." As if that explained everything.


    "You want a meeting at Void''s Edge," @golfswinger continued. "We want an information leak dealt with. There''s honor in secrecy, and we found a dishonorable person in our network. We could handle it ourselves, but this presents an ideal opportunity for you."


    "I disagree," I replied. "But I see you want us to jump through some hoops while you clean the place."


    "Oh, you''ll want to say yes," @golfswinger said, as if I was missing something obvious. He swayed in the dim light and put a fresh clip in his gun. "Like I said, this way you keep your memories. Besides, we fed the source some juicy intel on you. This intel gets out, and in no short order, all the unsavory and savory parties in the solar system will be looking for @wrench for a permanent reckoning."


    He timed the click of loading his gun perfectly, for emphasis, on the words permanent reckoning. Was everyone in the solar system a dick? I really hated people. Thinking about it though, if I were in their position, I''d probably do the same thing.


    @horsehead was finished with @foxcutter and made her way over to me. I stood up so she could cut the tape off of me, a little nervous to be honest. Someone who takes your hammer is not to be trusted, even if it''s an understandably awesome gravity hammer.


    She stared at me, brown eyes hard to read and her face expressionless. @horsehead was so close I could see the reflection of my bloodied face in her eyes. She smelled like jasmine and gasoline, which I thought would actually make an interesting scent for a candle. And then she surprised me. She gently worked the scissors along the front of my body, starting at the top - which I appreciated lest she poke me in the face with the tip of the scissors - cutting her way down toward my stomach.


    I freed my arms but kept them still, so as to not provoke her. I''m not a complete idiot after all.


    The quiet moment was spoiled when she unceremoniously patted my balls. "Good boy," she said, amused with herself.


    My mouth was probably hanging open. I closed it.


    "Was that really necessary?" I said in my most annoyed voice. "I mean, come on." I looked at @golfswinger in a can you do something about this kind of way.


    @horsehead laughed. "You can''t pretend you didn''t like it."


    Urgh! Stupid woman.


    @golfswinger just shrugged back at me.


    "We''ll do it," I said grumpily. "But the hammer comes with me."


    @horsehead placed the hammer between her legs and stuck her hands on her hips. "You want it? Lick my face."


    I took a step forward and stuck my tongue out at her, making an angry face, but @golfswinger stepped in between us.


    "Enough," he said firmly, turning from me to stare @horsehead. She handed the gravity hammer over to him, and he held it out to me.


    "You and your friend go wipe the intel and eliminate the target," @golfswinger commanded. "It''s a win-win, and the best deal you''ll get."

 4.2 - The Side Job

    Wipe the intel and eliminate the target. That sounds easy. Now do that in the mazes of Itokawa, where using sensory technology raised suspicion if it was detected, where the whole point was a layer of rigorous security to catch enough of the obvious infractions of people not clever enough to play the game, so that those who played the game could operate in the low-tech or no-tech underbelly.


    I gave @foxcutter my lovely gravity hammer. The Thrusters gave me back the glen11 that my merchant character, @wrench, had registered through the security checkpoints.


    Our target was last spotted leaving a restaurant called Honey Peas, up in the far solar northwest corners of Itokawa, the Garden District. We asked for a map of Itokawa only to get slapped. They existed, but they were expensive and highly coveted. None of the various criminal organizations wanted it to be easy to find anything in Itokawa. In fact, it turns out that there were regular re-segmentations done, where a hallway from one of the connected units would rotate over to connect to a different one.


    They tried to keep Itokawa changing as it grew, with the pivot of passages, being something regularly scheduled. Every morning you could count on something being different. The locals took pride in not getting lost, and this made it even easier to spot outsiders to prey upon.


    We weren''t helpless though. Certain locations had beacons so you could always know where you needed to go, even if you didn''t know exactly how to get there.


    We kept it informal, not wanting to attract suspicion in case our comms were detected.


    "So, we walk with confidence," @foxcutter said. "As long as it looks like we know where we''re going, people will think we do."


    I nodded. "I think we''re getting close enough." Unless our target was running, we would soon be in the search radius. "Let''s get organized."


    I spotted a bench over by a set of metal beds full of dirt, probably for growing potatoes or carrots, and I headed over to sit there. The thought of potatoes again made me squirm. I could see why @wrench would want to come here and deal in dirt and paper. Deals were done on paper and burned. Easier to delete than risking a digital fingerprint, and dirt was just about everywhere, coating the place. I could sell paper and collect dirt.


    But I''m not @wrench. Maybe if I ever got out of the Extrovert Starmada I could run a little business here. I''d have to run some business models. It had to be viable, or they never would have given it to me as a cover story.


    The hall we were in was empty. It was now early morning, 4:04 a.m. Earth Time (ET), and most of the solar system tried to stay on cycle for conducting business ... and for a bit of nostalgia no doubt.


    "This is our target," I said, pulling out the scrap of paper from my pocket. I unfolded it and held it out so we could both view it.


    "Are we sure we want to do this?" @foxcutter asked. "I mean, if they betrayed the Thrusters then they''re probably on our side."


    The woman in the photo reminded me of @shadowhacker, but if you smashed her together with @auroraloon. She had dark hair arranged in braids that flowed down her back, brown eyes with bright yellow eye shadow and a streak of bright green along her eyebrows, a stark contrast to her dark amber skin. In this photo, she was wearing a bright blue leather suit. @golfswinger had written @zerogstar in the corner of the photo in red marker.


    "She probably is on our side," I nodded. That was only part of the problem. "I know reanimation makes it a little easier to consider killing her, but eliminate the target seems to imply that we need to wipe some memories too, and she probably has backups."


    I folded the paper and tucked it away. "Let''s head out. If she likes the color blue, maybe we''ll spot her more easily, but obviously, she could be wearing anything."


    "And kill her, destroy her memories?" @foxcutter asked again, obviously uncomfortable.


    I sighed as we headed out down the dark hallways. The lights here flickered from time to time, adding to the sensation of secrecy, making it feel ominous, even if we were headed to a place called Honey Peas, known for its edamame.


    "I guess that''s what Vanquishers do," I said flatly, watching @foxcutter gulp and his eyes focus, his body tense noticeably as he walked. "But I''m not going to do that. I''m sure someday I''ll have to do something I really don''t want to do, but not today."


    "Like sell off @bitchfrog," @foxcutter added.


    "Exactly. I don''t even want to think about that. But we''ll rescue her back." I said it more for my own reassurance than @foxcutter''s. "We have a plan." And oh boy, that plan better work.


    People of Itokawa are no strangers to the idea of people looking for people. Someone''s always looking for someone, especially on Itokawa. This is why honor plays such an important part of society. One knows not to ask questions. You may be looking for someone to remind them to water their plants. You may be looking to make a deal. You may be looking to end a deal. It''s all the same, but honor and respect are the only way to get cooperation.


    As @golfswinger pointed out, @wrench was not exactly known here on Itokawa. That meant that Honey Peas was of little use to us. But the edamame was delicious! They did exactly what you would expect. The edamame came out warm, salty, and with just a dash of honey-vinegar that elevated the flavor. Do people complain that technically it''s not a pea? No. How would you sing "I eat my peas with honey" if the restaurant was called Honey Edamame.


    We inquired about @zerogstar, but my honor being rather nonexistent, the best I got was the casual glance that the chef behind our counter of stools gave to another of the chefs, who looked out toward the doorway and to the left. It might have been an accidental reaction, but that was good enough for me.


    Here in the Garden District, the grime was more organized, the hallways were just a bit brighter, but the rusty metallic walls and dust-coated glass were the same. They did, to their credit, have a number of garden beds like the one we saw earlier, narrow and taller, so you didn''t have to bend down, growing a variety of leafy greens with LED sunlights and hydroponic drips. The lamps gave off a violet hue, making the Garden District probably the most beautiful in Itokawa, each hallway emanating that glow along the sides.


    This was where the wealthiest in Itokawa lived as a result. We had to assume that @zerogstar knew she was being pursued, but I still hoped otherwise. If we didn''t find her, we knew the Thrusters were lying in wait at the ports of exit, and quite possibly following us as well.


    The Extronet had very little on @zerogstar. In a world where everything is connected, certain parties knew everything about you - like the Extrovert Starmada did about me - but in many cases, privacy being so important to people, there wasn''t actually much out there for public consumption. The Personality Act of UC63 made sure of that.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    @zerogstar''s origin was Lyra Apollo, and she was from a mining colony on Vesta, but in a small settlement outside of the major cities. Her origin had reportedly attended a school of dance, Float Step. When she came to Itokawa or why was unknown. None of this was particularly helpful to us.


    "We should probably split up," I said to @foxcutter, as we came to another intersection. We had ventured left from Honey Peas, trying to imagine what a person would do after eating a late night / early morning snack, not spotting anything interesting, picking a few halls that seemed more obvious choices for a person not wanting to be seen.


    "She''s probably keeping herself busy to make a push for the exits when the morning rush hits," @foxcutter hypothesized. "She wouldn''t go to places she frequents or they''d find her. But she''d probably go to places she''s at least somewhat familiar with so she''s not completely lost."


    He had a sound logic to his thinking. "Makes sense. She is, from what we know, a local, so I expect she''s pretty good at getting around. But, as you said, not her frequent spots."


    "If she had to leave in a hurry," I continued, "then she might need supplies."


    "That''s a good idea," @foxcutter said. "So we find a store that''s open, one that would have a variety of goods, but also probably not a popular shop."


    I pulled up an index of locations around the Garden District. Some of the stores would be marked with beacons. "We probably want a shop that''s not beaconed," I said aloud. "Let''s head this way." I pointed to the right corridor. It had fewer of the garden beds, not as much as main passageway as the others. In this maze, we''d have to rely on a bit of luck and good assumptions.


    We wandered for a good twenty minutes down the walkways, tunnels, and halls of the Garden District. We found a few promising stores, but none that were open that didn''t have a beacon blasting their location to the world. The search radius was getting bigger the longer we took, and I knew the longer we took, the more likely it was we''d come up empty. But space is finite, and we covered a lot of ground, relying on luck and futurecasting grounded in our assumptions.


    On the positive side, the more the morning progressed toward rush hour, the more we started to see people. That would likely get her moving if she had tucked herself away somewhere.


    @foxcutter spotted her first, wearing black jeans and a purple flannel shirt, with a green pack slung over her shoulder. As we suspected, she was coming out of a store, and it didn''t have a beacon. The place was called Earth''s Appraisal, a used artifact and antique store. Where the Cosmic Gutter was a large scrap and tool shop with something for everyone, Earth''s Appraisal was much smaller. It would have some useful used goods, but more select, along with some not-so-useful antiques for collectors.


    Only a few others were wandering down this passage, so she spotted us quickly as well.


    I didn''t want her to run. I figured she would. But at this hour, she''d be easy to chase. We would just attract a lot of attention, which neither of us wanted.


    I raised my hands quickly and flashed her the universal tree sign, tilting my head toward the wall along the passage just outside the store. She looked at us nervously. I thought she was going to bolt, but she hesitated and then stayed. Suddenly, she relaxed and walked toward us, feigning that she knew us.


    Thank @3Beak!


    I cut straight to the chase.


    "The Thrusters are after you," I said, leaning against the wall. "We need to get you out of here."


    She looked at us, then surveyed the passageway outside Earth''s Appraisal. "Lots of people are after me. How do I know you''re not one of them?"


    I shrugged. "You don''t."


    "Walking around with a gravity hammer like that," she pointed at @foxcutter with the hammer leaning over his shoulder. "At this time of the day? You look like thugs."


    She was right, but I really couldn''t leave my hammer with @horsehead out of principle. I didn''t want to try to explain that right now.


    "I''m an undercover Vanquisher," I said, making sure to keep strong eye contact. "Investigating person trafficking. The Thrusters want you, which means I have to make sure they don''t get you."


    @zerostar nodded at me and pulled her braids back behind her head. She wrapped them in a band to hold them in place, studying me. I could tell she was still skeptical.


    "We need to get out of sight," @zerogstar said. She grabbed my arm, turning away, and tugged me toward Earth''s Appraisal. "You have to see it," she said, slightly louder so that others might hear. "They have plants I''ve never seen before. I don''t think they grow anything edible, but they''re amazing."


    The inside of Earth''s Appraisal was mostly empty, save a man walking through the rows of shelves, taking inventory. Some aiways like to let themselves age, feeling like it adds to their authenticity, and then reset the cycle. This man was one of them, as he had let himself age to what appeared to be about 65 years old, with white balding hair. He seemed harmless, or at least, @zerogstar paid no attention to him.


    She saw me staring. "That''s Ralph, the owner. He finds old Earth antiques for me sometimes."


    "It''s just junk," he rumbled, in a deep voice, not taking his attention away from the shelves.


    @zerogstar laughed. "That''s what he thinks." She walked us to a far corner away from the door, where we could survey most of the store. I could see the intrigue of this place. Aside from the dust everywhere, which would certainly have me sneezing in no time, all sorts of odds and ends lined the shelves. Some probably had a purpose, but there were items I couldn''t identify, along with physical books and a few rows of plants under the same violet light as outside.


    She crossed her arms at me, her fingers nervously stoking the cuff of her purple flannel. "Okay. Your move. Ralph over there might not seem like much, but he won''t go down without a fight. Vanquisher? Prove it to me."


    I pointed my hand at a clear space on the wall above some of the random metal artifact. A slit opened and my sensory module protruded to project images along the wall. I flashed The Pharaoh, waiting in Blue 29 at the Port of Alloy dock, my i35 ship, which should be recognizable anywhere in the solar system, a quick flash of my memories from the starlab, the zombies closing in, and the explosion of @astrowave leading a charge through to save me.


    "A zombie virus is being developed," I said somberly. "I need to find it and destroy it." She wasn''t expecting the zombies. I had seen the quick shift in her demeanor, a quick breath, as I showed her the images.


    "Besides, I think I''m the best way out for you, and I don''t think you have other options. The Thrusters were tracking you, tracking me too no doubt, and they''ll have exits watched. I don''t know what you have, but I suspect getting you out of here is a good thing for both of us."


    @zerogstar wasn''t ready to play her hand and tell me what intel she had, and I respected that. We could deal with that later. Right now, I just needed an ally so that we could both get out safely.


    "The way I see it, there''s only one real option," I continued, and I knew that to be mostly true. My futurecasting confirmed it. "We bring you with us to the Thrusters. I explain that it''s pointless to dispose of you without making a profit on the deal. I''ll argue that I get to sell you off, one more of my souvenir''s to sell. They get the information cleared away."


    @zerogstar shook her head. "They won''t go for that." A person entered the store, a young woman dressed in jeans and a brown shirt. @zerostar watched closely, but the woman seemed harmless. "They''ll want me scrapped and my brain shattered."


    "Then I hide you away. I say we found you and retrieved the intel." The shopper started walking toward us. I paused, glancing at @foxcutter, but then the woman veered off and went down another row of shelves. Ralph was watching her to, making his way to the checkout counter. "But you''ll need to give me the intel, a copy at least. I''ll say that my honor requires to hand it over, but my wallet demands I make a profit on it."


    @zerogstar shook her head again. "I don''t know."


    "I don''t think we have other options."


    "How would I get out?" she asked, her brown eyes returned from the shopper back to me. She was earnest. Not scared. She was ready.


    "I cause a commotion. @foxcutter, my shipmate here, will stay with you. I''ll cause a panic across the station, and he''ll get you to our ship. With any luck, I''ll get there too." I turned to @foxcutter. "If I don''t make it, you know what to do. I''ll stash a memoryshard here and blow myself up."


    "Yes, sir," @foxcutter said, very formal, but he placed a hand on my shoulder.


    Seemed like it was all coming together. I''d go to the Thrusters and hope they were cool with my change of plans. If not, I''d blow myself up. And if they were, I''d go to Void''s Edge, get the information I needed, cause a panic across Itokawa, and then run for it.


    Or blow my self up. Funny how that''s always one of my first thoughts. I needed to work on living more and dying less.


    "What will you do to cause a commotion?" @zerogstar asked. "It''s not like you can just pull an alarm and chaos ensues."


    The shopper paid Ralph and then left, not giving us a second thought. I exhaled and looked back at @zerogstar.


    "I''m the Fracker. I''ll leak it and have it broadcast across the station. I''m sure that will get their attention."


    @zerogstar laughed at me. "No one will believe that."


    I didn''t laugh back, but I smiled to myself.


    "Oh, they''ll believe me all right." I flashed a video clip from my memory of our mining accident on Itokawa, something only I had seen, briefly on the wall. I watched her eyes bulge as she understood.


    "That''s right. I really am the Fracker. I''m pretty sure everyone''s going to want a word with me."

 4.3 - Voids Edge

    Void''s Edge felt familiar. The light was dim, but not too dim, a soft color like a hazy morning day, with shadows rolling over the spots where tables were set up. The gray of the concrete floors was mirrored in the chairs and tables, but with a light maple color to the table tops and surprisingly soft and comfortable seating. I immediately felt right at home, as I found a booth in the far corner and sunk into the cushions.


    I could see myself being a regular here, grabbing a meal and a drink, seeing my buddies, talking shop or making deals. Of course, I knew that in reality this was one of the most dangerous places on Itokawa, but it just didn''t have that vibe about it. I realized this might be intentional too, so I noted that I would need to keep my guard up.


    @golfswinger and @horsehead were not too pleased with my arrangement, but since I had a copy of @zerogstar''s data and the Thrusters were just passing me over to another contact, they had agreed. I suspected that this was in part because they still had no intention of letting us off Itokawa, but that was a future problem. They were just a barrier for me, thugs that @diamonddocker tipped off - not my real target anyway.


    @zerogstar and @foxcutter stayed back at Earth''s Appraisal. I appreciated finally being alone. After the hundreds of years being a solo Wavepilot, I had gotten used to the silence and comfort of my own thoughts.


    Once I arrived at Void''s Edge, I immediately ordered a hibiscus lemon happy bevvy to help me forget about the potatoes of Psyche, the responsibilities of a new crew, the zombie virus, and my negotiation with the Thrusters. @golfswinger had left me with @horsehead as my "price to pay." She held a gun to my head and made me pay homage. I had to drop to my knees to present @horsehead with my gravity hammer and lick her salty and oil smudged fingers, while she neighed like a horse and stomped the ground. I don''t think anyone ever wondered what to get her for her birthday. If I ever returned to Itokawa, I''d bring apples with me and a bucket for her to poop in.


    I closed my eyes and took a nice long chug of the hibiscus lemon drink, letting the cool taste run down my throat, trying to reset myself. It was just me and the background noise of a bar. But I couldn''t quite escape the pressures and anxiety of being a Vanquisher.


    I needed a lead. I needed to find the lab and stop the virus. It wasn''t just me. I knew the Extrovert Starmada would be doing more than just relying on me, but the pressure felt real. If I did get the lead I needed, then that would set off more troubles. I had to escape. The Pharaoh was waiting for us with the rest of my crew. I had to hope @foxcutter and @zerogstar would make it. I had to sell @bitchfrog! And then I had to make sure I could rescue her.


    I could feel my fingers trembling and my heart rate increase. A few more seconds of sitting with my eyes closed, and I could start to feel the effects of the happy bevvy, calming my nerves. I would be more focused but a little slower, but it was a fair trade compared to complete panic.


    "Ugly as a rock, huh?" I heard a voice say, catching a slight draft of air from movement as someone sat down across from me. It was the woman from the Cosmic Gutter. She was wearing her long brown hair down now, with a simple black t-shirt and jeans.


    I opened my eyes and smiled, but inside I cursed to myself. I was still working on calming myself, but I knew that if things worked out in my favor, I''d be meeting someone. The real question was, Is it this woman?


    "You weren''t here at ten."


    "No, I wasn''t," I said, matter-of-factly, setting my drink down. "I got caught up, but I made it. I''m glad you''re still here." At least, I think I am, I thought to myself.


    She laughed. "I didn''t wait around for you. I work the night shift here."


    I shrugged. "Well, at least now I know where to find you." I took another sip of my drink and sat quietly, while she looked me over, trying to practice my be quiet and let others speak way of extracting information.


    "You gonna ask me out or what?" she finally asked.


    Oh, so this was kind of a date-type situation. I certainly couldn''t be going on dates, and if I did, I wanted it to be with @auroraloon, assuming she wouldn''t kill me first.


    "You''re not from here. You should get used to people here taking what they want." She smiled again, tapping her fingers on the table. "Hmph," she grunted. "Or not."


    "I''m here on business," I said, waiting for my brain to process the situation.


    "You''re not that attractive anyway," she replied, standing up and waiting next to the table. "Just better looking than a rock."


    I wasn''t sure what to do. I hadn''t asked anyone on a date in the last fifty years or so. It just wasn''t something a Wavepilot had the luxury of doing. I had to wonder if that was something I even wanted in life. But a quick reflection told me that it was. I needed to get used to other people, and I surprised myself by acknowledging that maybe finding someone to love was a good thing. I probably wouldn''t ever see @auroraloon again anyway. Why waste an opportunity? Sure, the timing was completely off, but maybe that''s what made it the perfect time.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    I started out strong. "Um," I said.


    She tilted her head at me.


    "Sorry," I continued. "I just wasn''t expecting this."


    "Neither was I," she replied. "But people happen."


    My brain was spinning and the happy bevvy didn''t help. I started thinking of options. I could show her my ship. We could play a game. I could invite her to dinner. Maybe a stroll along the gardens?


    "I have bubble wrap," she said.


    I think she saw my brain explode.


    She started laughing uncontrollably, drawing attention from others in the bar. I watched helplessly while everyone noticed me. I guess if I had a contact to meet, they would know exactly where to find me.


    "I was going to suggest maybe a walk through the gardens." My face was flush, and I suddenly was very aware of the look on her face, the shift in her posture as she managed to stop herself from laughing.


    She placed her hand on the table. "A walk it is," she said. "I get off at eight. if you want to hang for a few hours, we can meet up when my shift ends."


    I smiled and finally took a breath. @kittyboy, the Vanquisher, fearless in the face of death. Terrified in the face of women.


    "That''s perfect," I lied. I knew I''d have to run out of here if I successfully made contact, but it felt good, it felt like personal progress, and I knew that I would indeed walk with her if my lead didn''t pan out.


    She walked away back toward the bar, and I watched her go, satisfied with myself. Then I looked down to grab my drink and saw that she had left a note on the table on a tiny piece of paper. I reached over and slid it away from the small puddle that had formed around my drink, holding it there for a moment. Despite the scene she had made, no one was looking at me now. I wondered how much of that was just for show and how much was authentic. I thought I knew the answer, since I didn''t even get her name.


    Am I that gullible? I asked myself. I probably am. Years of being a Wavepilot hadn''t done me any favors in how to interact with others. My life experience was fly, shoot, die. I suddenly felt very much like a child in a world full of immortals.


    Shake it off! You are bright. You are brilliant. You are amazing. I took another sip of my drink, closed my eyes again, and centered myself. Finally, I slid the paper over and looked at it.


    Dream of love, son of Venus and Mercury. XOXO


    I stared at it, nervously. Only thing to do was see how this played out with the ugly rock woman. Was she being really direct with me? Was this a message for @wrench from my contact? I still didn''t know, but I got the feeling this wasn''t just about going on a date.


    I ordered another happy bevvy, orange flavored this time, and a small plate of synthetic bacon and sourdough toast. My server was noticeably not the woman I met, who wandered in and out from time to time, glancing my way occasionally.


    The place was getting a bit busier. A small morning crowd flowed into the bar, one or two people at a time, looking for breakfast and a bloody mary. The smell of food started to take over the smell of smoke and dirt. I suspected most of the people here had been around since the evening. New faces appeared from the back rooms as well, exiting in twos or threes, a few sitting at tables to order while others left to get on with their days. The food was what you''d expect at a place called the Void''s Edge. It wasn''t bad, but it was greasy. I needed coffee to wash down the toast.


    As I flagged down my new server, a man walked slowly past my table. "Look for the shoe maker," the man said. "He''ll keep an eye out for you." He placed a pack of old fashioned cigarettes down on the table. "Keep this with you."


    I tried to study his face, memorize his features, but he only turned briefly toward me when he spoke, and I hadn''t been looking. It happened so quickly that even playing it back in my mind, I could only recall bits. He had long brown hair with bits of gray, a slight beard. His jeans were noticeably clean, and he had a long army green duster that hung down to his knees.


    My first thought was to get up and follow him, but then I remembered where I was. Had she been looking at me when the man walked past? I thought so. How many other people here were watching me?


    I pocketed the cigarettes in the inside pocket of my leather jacket. They would be trackable most likely, or something I needed to show. Surely I would know what to do when the time came.


    The shoe maker?


    I had no idea who that was, but again, I could research that on my way to wherever we were going. I got my coffee and finished my breakfast calmly, thinking about my plan for what was next. My intention was to go on my garden walk, assuming that was still happening, and then create a scene and run for my life. I wanted to see the ugly rock woman for a few reasons. One, she was starting to grow on me. Two, maybe she had more intel for me.


    I told myself I was foolish for reason number one, but I agreed to let myself be foolish. I looked at the note again.


    Dream of love, son of Venus and Mercury. XOXO


    My databases told me that the son of Venus and Mercury was Eros. Processing that along with the message from the man, it started to make more sense to me. Eros was very much an Introvert asteroid. Its orbit even carried it "close" to Earth, by asteroid standards. Its very nature as a love destination made it the obvious choice for human trafficking. I didn''t like obvious, but it was all I had to go on. Besides, this wasn''t even my primary goal. I was just following the trail, contact by contact, to find the aiways being shipped off to the zombie starlab. If the flow led to Eros, I guess I was going to Eros.


    I added a quest to my log. Go to Eros. Look for the shoe maker.


    To my surprise, at eight in the morning, the ugly rock woman waved to me from the entrance to Void''s Edge, a black jacket flung over her arm, motioning for me to join her.


    I stood up and downed the last bit of cold coffee from my mug. Then I headed off to the exit, ready for a new adventure, wondering what in the world I was going to say to her.

 4.4 - A Walk in the Garden

    We walked silently toward the Garden District. She tossed her coat on and rummaged through her pockets, finally offering me a mint and popping one in her mouth. I accepted the mint. Normally, I''m not so accepting of things that could poison me, but we were past that. Whomever I was dealing with could have killed me multiple times.


    "I''m @wrench," I said at last, "but you probably knew that."


    She smiled, a little dimple hitting her left cheek. "I did."


    Knowing we weren''t exactly on a date made me feel more comfortable. This was just work, just another part of my role as @wrench to infiltrate and locate the zombie lab.


    "So what exactly is this?" I ventured to ask. "I have your note. I''m pretty sure I know where to go next. What are we doing here?"


    She slapped me on the arm and chuckled. "I thought I was pretty clear. I like the look of you."


    And just like that, I was tongue-tied and nervous again. She leaned against the hallway, still laughing, her skinny arms on her hips, then grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hallway after her.


    "What about the whole mixing of business and pleasure kind of thing?" I asked. I still wasn''t too sure what this was all about and what role she played in it. "That''s a saying that goes back centuries. For a reason."


    We turned to the right. I knew where I was going, but I wasn''t sure who was leading at this point. The first of the violet lights of the plant-lined streets of the Garden District were starting to appear through the dim halls. We walked down an empty passage, one of the more remote, just on the edge of the district. It was a great place to stab someone.


    "I just watched you and delivered a message," she said, lightly. "Do it all the time. That''s just part of working at a bar, a store, a restaurant, a hair salon. Everyone on Itokawa has to pass on a message from time to time, or keep an eye out for someone."


    I guess that made sense. Eyes and ears all over the place, and everyone willing to pay for information.


    "I see." I slowed my pace, enjoying the light from the hydroponic planters. "So what''s your name?"


    "There you go," she exclaimed. "Are you finally here with me? Out of that head of yours?"


    I laughed and let myself relax. "Yes, I guess I am."


    "I''m @mirrorbird." She stuck her hand out, and I shook her slender hand firmly. She seemed full of energy for someone who just worked all night. "Come here! I love these."


    She hurried away toward a row of yellow and white plants that looked vaguely like chamomile. "You can eat the flower petals on these, and the middle can be brewed for a tea or used as a bathing oil." She bent down. "Smell them. Mmmm."


    I joined her. She was certainly lightening the mood. Here I was all full of anxiety, and I''ve got a woman from Itokawa showing me her favorite flowers. I bent down to smell them. They were nice indeed, such a different and comforting smell compared to the smoke, dirt, and oily metal smells that otherwise permeated Itokawa.


    "No wonder you like them," I said. "They smell wonderful! Something bright and clean and fresh in this place must be hard to come by."


    She nodded approvingly and stepped close to me. "Smell my neck," she said.


    I stood quietly, making eye contact with her, holding her eyes with mine.


    She rolled her eyes at me. "Smell my neck."


    I approached slowly, looking at the slightly tanned skin of her neck as she tilted her head the other way. I smelled, slowly, and immediately picked up on the same scent from the flowers. For a moment, I thought of kissing that lovely neck, but I let the moment pass and leaned away from her.


    "You smell lovely," I said, thinking about what to say. "Earlier today I had to lick someone''s salty and oil stained hands. It was disgusting. Now, here I am with you. Total opposite. It''s been a day of extremes."


    "That''s gross," she echoed. "I wouldn''t even lick my own grimy hands. Who''s hands exactly were you licking? And if you''re expecting to lick mine, you''ve got another thing coming."


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Shit, I admonished myself. Stupid brain. I shouldn''t have mentioned that whole incident with @horsehead. I thought for a moment and took the opportunity to stall by smelling another flower, a purple one in the adjacent flower bed. "Business deal gone wrong, you could say. Hence, the happy bevvy at Void''s Edge. I cleaned up as best I could, but ... here I am."


    "Please tell me you brushed your teeth," @mirrorbird prompted. "I''m not kissing you, mint or no mint, if you didn''t brush your teeth."


    Well, of course I hadn''t. I definitely wanted to, but it wasn''t like I carried a toothbrush around with me. They needed to make little brush tablets or something for Vanquishers on the go.


    I threw my arms to the sides in desperation. "Didn''t have time. I know. Gross."


    She shook her head and mumbled something I didn''t quite hear that sounded like idiot. But she still had a smirk on her face, so not all was lost. She reached into her black jacket pocket and pulled out a small square, and then another. She handed one to me.


    It was a tiny square cutout of bubble wrap.


    "I''m sorry, but let''s - this - time thing." She stumbled over her words and had to start over. "Let''s do this another time."


    She walked slowly down the passage back toward the main hallways, popping her bubble wrap as she ambled. "When we''re both a little more prepared. I''m coming off a long shift. You need a brushing and a bath. I know everything is rather filthy on Itokawa, but ..."


    I laughed and caught up with her, stepping up to her side. "No, you''re right. There''s dirty, and there''s dirty."


    She stopped and made a scrunchy face at me, popping another bubble. The dimple appeared again in the corner of her cheek. "Thank you for understanding. I''m cool with your person stink, but not with someone else''s."


    I popped a bubble back at her in response.


    Her face lit up. "It''s fun, isn''t it?"


    She continued walking, motioning for me to follow her. "I like to pop bubble wrap as I walk. It helps me relax." We popped a few more as we took in another row of flower beds. This one had blue flowers that smelled strong and pungent.


    I was frustrated, but I also considered it a stroke of luck that our date would be cut short. I needed to get out of here. I had the perfect excuse now, without being too rude. But, of course, I wanted to stay. @mirrorbird was a fresh scent in an asteroid full of muck.


    "You''re right, by the way," I said, rubbing some of the blue flower''s petal and smelling my fingers. I gestured to her, and she did the same, carefully working some of the flower onto her skin and smelling it. "We should pick this up another time. I''m also pressed for work and need to get going. I don''t want to, but that''s life, right?"


    She nodded. We were both disappointed, but happy nonetheless it seemed. "The timing is just off," I added.


    @mirrorbird smiled back. "The timing wasn''t off. The timing was just right, or we wouldn''t have met at all."


    She was right, and I suppose we had the anticipation of seeing each other again to look forward to. When that would be, sadly, I had no idea. "That''s a beautiful way to put it," I said.


    Time to go back to being a Vanquisher, I told myself. I took a deep breath. "I need to head back off world ..."


    "I figured," she said, flinging her limbs childishly as she walked down the hall. I noticed that she had picked one of the blue flowers. "That''s life on Itokawa. People come, people go."


    "I will come back to see you," I said, hoping it wasn''t a lie and hoping she actually cared if I did. "Assuming you don''t have, like, a dozen people on your list who''ve said the same thing. Do you?"


    She laughed, which helped me relax. "None of your business."


    "Fair play," I laughed back.


    She lifted her left hand. "You go lick some more hands." She lifted her right hand. "I''ll wait for my list of suitors to show up." She smashed her hands together. "And then maybe we''ll talk."


    I nodded, stupid grin making my face hurt. "It was brief, but the most fun I''ve had in decades."


    I realized I meant it when I said it. I hadn''t done much relaxing with other people. I hadn''t just existed in space with someone, being playful. Sure, we played games on The Pharaoh, the crew and I, but it was different with @mirrorbird.


    "You need to get out more then," she said, grabbing my arm and stepping closer. I looked into her brown eyes, the smell of the flowers rising through the filth to touch my nose. I popped a bubble.


    "I''m keeping this," I said, raising the bubble wrap.


    "You better!" She replied, and then she placed the blue flower in her hair. Or, at least she tried to. The flower fell. I managed to catch it without damaging it too badly. "Oops!" she exclaimed. "I was trying to be cute."


    I tucked the flower over her left ear. "You were being cute," I replied, and we smiled stupidly at each other.


    Then @mirrorbird grimaced at me awkwardly, tilting her head sideways and back, considering what to do. Awkward good-byes, I thought to myself.


    She leaned in close and kissed my cheek. The feeling of her lips ran all the way down to my toes, a zap of energy, like I had just been reanimated.


    "Not bad," she said. "Your face tastes okay."


    "You approve?" I joked.


    "I approve." She nodded, and then she kissed my cheek again, longer this time. She wrapped her arm around my waist. I didn''t dare step closer. I kept my distance, reluctant to close the small gap between us. I would be too tempted to kiss her.


    "Stupid teeth," I said.


    She brushed ever so slightly against me as she pulled away. I reached out and took her hand, holding it, solidly and softly. I gave it a slow squeeze and let go.


    She smiled back. "Stupid teeth," she repeated.


    And that was my favorite memory of Itokawa.


    She walked away with a little skip in her step, knowing full well that I watched her move along the passage and out into the growing morning crowds, where she disappeared. She would pop her bubble wrap on her way home, wherever that was, to sleep before working another night shift at Void''s Edge.


    And I would run like hell.

 4.5 - The Fracker!

    I checked my clock. It was 8:43 a.m. Earth Time. I could cause a nice bit of chaos right as the morning rush of people was starting to die down, hopefully making it easier for me to navigate the maze of passages, but with enough people to get lost in the crowd a bit.


    Our plan was to issue a Wanted alert, indicating that the Fracker, destroyer of Old Itokawa, had been identified at Void''s Edge and was last spotted heading toward the Port of Conduit, in the solar northwest docking stations. This just happened to be in the opposite direction of the Port of Alloy.


    I was already in the Garden District, which is where we had decided I would be when we triggered my alert. See, I''m smart like that. I conveniently picked the walk in the garden because it was both a good date choice and right where I wanted to be anyway. The ensuing commotion should surround @foxcutter and @zerogstar as they made their way to the ship, hopefully deflecting attention away from them. But they were closer to the ship. That way I could try to monitor their progress and plan a route to protect all of us. I also didn''t want to get to the ship first, because if I did, we''d likely have to get out of their fast, without giving @foxcutter and @zerogstar much of a chance to board.


    I signaled @foxcutter, using a frequency that would be less monitored, sending a simple series of eight quick beeps, four long beeps, and three quick beeps. That was the time of day. When a pattern on that frequency matched the time of day, he''d broadcast the alert.


    I waited, centering myself, smelling my fingers again where I had touched the flower to get its scent in my nose. Bubble wrap secure. Gravity hammer lost to @horsehead. Mint swallowed. Timer set.


    An alarm sounded nearby, with an orange light flashing as a warning. I checked the local broadcast and pulled up the video footage that showed a warrant for my arrest. We had put together a rough view where I would be recognizable, mostly by clothing, taken from outside Earth''s Appraisal, along with a snippet of my memory from the accident to lend more truth to it. We started the reward at $1M qcoins, but we knew that it would go up as suitors bid against the "authorities" for capture rights.


    I pulled a breathing mask up over my face, one with a cloth that ran down around the neck. It wasn''t to hide my face. They had too much surveillance here. My choice of how to escape made it a foregone conclusion that I would forever be recognized as the Fracker.


    So be it.


    But I had grenades. I threw the first sleep bomb toward the busiest hallway, one that ran toward Earth''s Appraisal, and I took off the opposite direction.


    Go mode activated.


    It was easy at first. No one knew what was going on. Phase 1 was to make sure they knew. I wanted all eyes on me so that @foxcutter and @zerogstar could start making their run. We had scrounged a decent number grenades from Earth''s Appraisal, in the "not for sale" part of the store that Ralph was more than happy to show us. I tossed another, this time in front of me, and kept running.


    @zerogstar had been able to provide me with yesterday''s map of Itokawa, which we decided was better than nothing, but I knew that I would run into passageways that had changed for the day. Each passage had limited options of where it could be rerouted. But, once I was off the map, I would have to trust a lot more in my instinct and public beacons. I flagged some that I would be more familiar with: the Port of Alloy, the security checkpoints I had been at that showed the transition between districts, the Cosmic Gutter.


    To occupy my thoughts and increase my odds of success, I decided to treat this like a piloting exercise. I was a masterful pilot. I just needed to think of this as a Wavepilot exam. I was my ship, the people were ships and asteroids, the hallways were charted pathways on a nav chart.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Changing my thought process brought everything into clear focus. Time seemed to slow down as I hit the thrusters, braked, spun, and twirled masterfully down the walkways. Sure, I fired a fake torpedo at someone and then ran into them, forgetting that they would not explode in front of me, but I spun out of it like a ship struck in an engine, braced myself, and was quickly back in the fray.


    And so, I zoomed and zipped deftly through the asteroid field of people, counting my time. I smiled when I saw a blip that indicated @foxcutter and @zerogstar had left Earth''s Appraisal. I tossed the occasional grenade to signal my whereabouts. And I ran. I ran from the growing mobs and screams that followed behind me.


    "Fracker! Fracker! Fracker!"


    Every turn I made led to the same shouts. Someone tried to loop my neck with the strap from their messenger bag, a man in jeans with a fancy sport coat. I discarded him with a shove, sending people to the ground, diving downward and plunging through a cluster of Itokawans, running off again.


    My image was being broadcast on the walls, overlaid on the glass in the passages between segments of the city, and fed through the open network VR displays to appear as an alert on anyone''s HUD.


    In several seconds I went from @wrench the businessman to the Fracker, the most famous person on Itokawa. No one knew who the Fracker was. They had tried to figure it out. Some people had even claimed to be the Fracker, but it was a mystery that Itokawa had seemed to love being a mystery.


    "No way that''s the Fracker," I heard someone say as I sprinted by.


    Their companion spotted me and shouted, "Doesn''t matter! Look at that reward!" And the two of them joined the chase.


    We were up to $3.2M qcoins. Whether anyone really thought I was the Fracker didn''t matter. They would chase me for the money. Classic Itokawa. It didn''t disappoint.


    But, my easy departure was about to get challenging. Itokawa had shifted overnight, as it always did. As I ran through another corridor and turned to the right at a sharp angle, I realized I was off map. I knew it would happen since my map was a day old, but I had been trying not to think about it.


    Time to rely on my futurecasting and excellent sense of direction. Don''t believe @auroraloon. I swear, I know where I''m going most of the time.


    What threw me off was taking that sharp right only to find myself in a bedding store called Stellar Dreams.


    I knocked over the salesperson in the entrance first, a woman in khaki pants and a gray shirt. Poor woman had no idea what was going on. Mostly, I saw the flash of her brown hair in front of me as I pushed her out of my way, sending her to my right, where she fell onto a display about the best pillows in Itokawa.


    Calm music featuring the sound of oceans piped through the store''s speakers, a stark contrast to the orange alarm lights flashing through the dim corridors of Itokawa, giving the entire store an apocalyptic hue.


    "Everyone deserves a good night''s sleep," a sonorous voice said over the speakers. "Get dirty by day, and sleep like a king on our new auto-adjusting quantum pillows."


    I grabbed one of these pillows, acknowledged that it was one of the softest pillows I''d ever picked up, turned, and slammed it into the first person in the crowd behind me.


    The pillow did just what they said it would do. It adjusted. Instead of pummeling one of my pursuers, it bent around their face, making a soft tuft sound. They were at least startled, bogging down the entrance, while I ran deeper into the store. I could see an exit on the far side. They could easily plug the entrances and trap me inside.


    There''s no shame in screaming, so I did just that. I hollered out. "Mattress sale! Get a free pillow with every purchase!"


    I jumped onto a mattress, grabbing one of its pillows. Then I bounced over to another bed as a ground of randoms reached for my legs. I didn''t miss a beat. As I landed on the second bed, I slammed the pillow into a man with his arms wide open to catch me.


    To my delight, this was a regular pillow, and I infused my strike with quantum force. The pillow exploded in the man''s face, sending feathers and soft bits of composite fluffiness up into the air, toppling the man as if he was a mindless mannequin.


    I grabbed another pillow, holding it high above my head, and I laughed in the most crazed way I could think of, my eyes wide, my smiling gleaming through the orange light.


    I tossed a sleep bomb toward the exit ahead of me, where several people were closing in on me. I had to keep moving forward fast enough to prevent the people behind me from catching up. I battered the first, careful this time not to let my pillow explode, when a pillow struck me in the head from behind.


    And that''s how the biggest pillow fight in the solar system officially began.

 4.6 - The Awesometacular Pillow Fight

    When someone smacks you with a pillow, you don''t shoot them. You don''t stab them with a knife. You don''t tackle them to the ground. You don''t tie them up with your boot laces.


    You smack them right back, as hard as you can, with a pillow of your own.


    It''s human nature, and no amount of tech can remove the simple childlike joy of a pillow fight.


    Are we (aiways), who ported our brains to a hybrid organic and digital state, still human?


    It''s the question of the century. It''s the root of Ashfield''s Law of Authenticity, the pursuit of value in being human.


    Well, let me tell you this. Countless research papers would later cite this Awesometacular Pillow Fight on Itokawa at Stellar Dreams as proof that we are still very much human - or at least still very much value the pursuit of humanity.


    I turned to face my attacker, an aiways who had chosen to look like a younger man in his early 20s, with short black hair and a bit of stubble. He clearly couldn''t grow a full beard. He had acne on his left cheek, a very nice touch of authenticity. He was about to tackle me, and he was followed by three others, and then the swarm of bodies that were accumulating behind them.


    I was already haunched over from his blow to the back of my head, so I used that as momentum to wind up. I pummeled him with a mighty swing of my pillow. My adrenaline had kicked in, and my blow resulted in a satisfying thwack, followed my a grunt as the boy-man fell backwards into the others behind him, and my pillow burst fabulously.


    That was when everyone seemed to grab pillows. I took the pillow from boy-man after smacking him and turned toward the far exit. My sleep grenade had cleared a little path. I moved toward that, my pillow at the ready, whacking one, two, three people with precise blows to the face.


    My bounty had climbed to $4.2M qcoins, but no one seemed to remember that. All they could think about was hitting their neighbor with a pillow. I don''t know where all the pillows came from. I mean, Stellar Dreams of course, but the crowd must have raided the back room storage area because the pillow bins in the store display areas certainly couldn''t supply hundreds of people with pillows on their own.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    The room started to fill with floating feathers and composite dust particles from all the pillows ripping apart as people bashed each other. Laughter filled the room. I didn''t need a smoke bomb. It didn''t take long to make it hard to see, hard to distinguish who was who. I just needed to dodge large incoming pillows and head toward the exit.


    "Yahhhhhh!" I heard someone yell, jumping off the mattress with a pillow over their heads. They landed in a group of people and spun in a circle, trying to hit everyone around them. They spun a few times, landing only a couple of blows, before they fell to the ground dizzy and laughing.


    I held my pillow in front of me, held firmly in both hands, and I rammed forward, shoving people left and right.


    Behind me, the fight raged on, all cursing, laughter, and feathers.


    When I reached the far end and finally got into the hallway, my jaw dropped. Somehow the pillow fight had made its way into the surrounding corridors. Seriously, where had all these pillows come from?


    No one paid me any attention now. As long as I continued flailing away with my pillow, I was just another joyful participant in the pillow battle.


    I caught my breath for a moment and took in the scene. The flashing orange lights and the floating feathers and particles added to the apocalyptic thoughts running through my head. If this was the end of the world, what a glorious end it would be.


    A man across the hallway didn''t have a pillow, so he took off his shirt and started swinging it at people, screaming. Others started to follow suit, removing jackets, sweaters, and whatever they could find.


    "Cheater!" a woman screamed.


    I saw a dash of short blond hair as she ran through an opening and dropped the shirtless man with a blow to the head. Four more people quickly surrounded him, slamming pillows on him. He screamed and flung his arms about, finally succumbing to an uncontrollable fit of laughter and coughing.


    The people with pillows started to gang up on the people without pillows, who were trying to tear the pillows away. This tug of war only sent more particles flying into the air.


    I was grateful for my breathing mask. Coughing, screams, and laughter abounded. I spotted another store in the far corner. I fluffed my pillow and headed out again, bashing my way down the hallway.


    Itokawans would dream about this for years to come. They even started a pillow fighting sport and tournament, appropriately named the Pillow Fighting League (PFL) with specific rules, sponsored by Stellar Dreams, the official maker of the Standard Galactic Pillow. For tournaments, the white pillows were stuffed with feathers and composite dyed red to simulate blood. The tournament was similar to a boxing match, with points awarded over rounds to determine a winner.


    The Pillow Fighting League was a pleasant alternative to the Death Match Association (DMA), which as you might expect was a hardcore and bloody sport where people literally fought to the death, reanimated by their corporate sponsors to fight again and again and again.


    But I digress.


    A scream that sounded suspiciously like the high-pitched neigh of a horse caught my attention, and I knew that the Thrusters had found me.

 4.7 - Pet Sounds

    The annoying neighs of @horsehead were to my right, almost directly across from me. I ducked and used my pillow as a battering ram to rush toward the store at the end of the hallway, trying to get out of the ongoing pillow fight and the growing mass of people. Pillows battered at my sides and reaching hands grabbed at me. I wriggled out of them, forcing my way forward, but I lost my gas mask in the process when someone managed to hook their hands around it.


    I nearly lost my leather jacket as well. A young man grabbed me by the collar, pulling me back into the pillow fight. I slid out of the left sleeve and twisted away, dropping my pillow. I clutched the jacket with my right arm down the sleeve, finally ripping it from his grasp. Then I snatched up my pillow and ran again, now flinging the leather jacket around in front of me like a propeller.


    I wasn''t fast enough.


    @horsehead cut me off.


    She stood in front of me, feathers stuck to her sweaty face, her blond hair a wild mess flowing behind her, blood dripping from a cut on her lip. Her sports braw was visible beneath a loose-fitting dark brown v-neck t-shirt. The words "Wild Ride" were printed on the front in big white letters. I dare say she looked attractive. If she wasn''t a little too into her horsey thing, I might find her cute.


    Oh, and she was clearly evil. She had taken my gravity hammer and fondled me inappropriately. There was no redeeming her from that.


    She lifted my hammer to her shoulder, holding it easily with one hand. She would carry it in its most lightweight setting and then toggle it to infuse the hammer with the force of gravity. That thing would shatter my face in a single blow.


    She neighed again, a high-pitched cacophony, her face pointed to the sky in mimicry of a horse (of course). After her neigh, she squatted to all fours, shaking her butt like she was flicking flies with her tail. I laughed when I saw that she had actually fashioned a fake horse tail to the back of her black wide-leg jeans. Her hip gyrations sent the tail in circles behind her.


    She stood again, taking a wide battle stance and licked the blood from her split lip.


    "Care for a ride?"


    I blushed thinking about it. "Can I pull your tail?"


    She smiled wildly and pointed at me. "You better! That''s an oral contract." She did a swirly thing with her tongue that made me uncomfortable.


    "You bray like a donkey," I retorted, readying myself for battle.


    That set her off. She smushed her eyes angrily at me. "I''m gonna hump your dead body so hard you''ll reincarnate as a pussy."


    I shook my head at her disapprovingly. "Seriously? What the fuck, @horsehead. We''re having a pleasant little back and forth, and you have to get all nasty."


    She bounced up and down with the gravity hammer, like she was humping a dead body, pushing her hips forward and back along the tip of the hammer.


    I won''t lie. She was utterly distracting. I almost turned around and reentered the pillow fight behind me, the laughter still echoing around us. It was either that or see how much fun I could have while she murdered me.


    I shrugged. "I can''t pull your tail if I''m dead."


    "I can''t hump your dead body if you''re alive."


    And that was it for the pleasantries. At least I could kill her. I could kill as many of the Thrusters as I liked with barely an afterthought. I had managed not to kill any of the Itokawans so far. The pillow fight was a huge help on that front, but I didn''t need to hold back now. I couldn''t or she''d turn my head into horse manure.


    I tossed my leather jacket down at my feet, knowing she would smash me if I tried to put it on, and readied myself for battle, holding my pillow firmly. My brain quickly laid out two scenarios. Attack first or let her attack me first. I had to make every move count. In 69.1% of the scenarios, when I attacked first, @horsehead was able to position herself for a critical blow from the hammer. That was worse than the 54.7% of letting her attack me first. So I studied her posture and waited.


    She decided to start with a forward thrust. That was wise. If she had raised the hammer high, I would have rushed her to close the distance. Either way, I needed to stay as close to her as possible, within the handle length of the hammer.


    I should have seen that coming, I thought to myself, as soon as she jabbed the hammer forward.


    I had been prepared to rush forward, my muscles tense, waiting for the first sign of attack. Since she attacked straight forward instead, I knew I didn''t have the split second I would need to shift my muscles and dodge left or right. So, I did the most logical thing. I dodged up.


    I jumped forward, using my hands to push my pillow down into the top of the thrusting hammer, timing it with the moment she triggered its gravity force. I hit the full weight of the hammer, using it as a springboard to fling me higher and farther forward. I needed to cover the distance as quickly as possible.


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    @horsehead made the hammer near weightless again and flung it up to smash me, but she was too late. I landed on top of her, my weight bringing both of us to the ground. She let go of the hammer, trying to brace herself, and I heard it zip by overhead and clank to the floor somewhere behind us.


    As we hit the floor, I pushed down to force her head to make solid impact, and I summersaulted, rolling forward with my pillow and back to my feet. She was stunned from the blow to the ground, and I used that to my advantage. I raised my pillow and pummeled her with repeated blows to the face.


    I should have abandoned the pillow and gone straight for her throat.


    She rolled away from me in a rapid series of spins, tugging at her pants. I watched closely, moving toward her, ready for the next round. I had the advantage this time. I had a pillow, and she had only her bare hands.


    Or so I thought.


    She sprang to her feet, and I saw that she had torn the tail off her pants, revealing that it wasn''t just a horse tail. It was also her belt, and now she held it out, gripping the fluffy tail, lashing it back and forth as a very real and dangerous whip.


    I needed reassurance, so I taunted her.


    "Nice undies."


    Tearing the belt off left her pants hanging low at her hips, exposing an adorable pair of underwear, pink with white rabbits on them. The rabbits had little smiles and big bright eyes.


    She lashed me across the face with her whip, drawing blood.


    "You should pay more attention."


    The slash from her whip sunk in, yielding a sharp stinging sensation, followed by intense pain. My left cheek was on fire. My eyes teared up, but I was happy to realize I still had both my eyes.


    "I thought you''d be flattered," I said.


    "Not flattered. Excited!"


    We circled each other. She wagged the whip back and forth, echoing the rhythm of her swaying body, poised to attack.


    She launched the whip at me again, from an angle I wasn''t expecting, but I have high dexterity, and I was able to block it with my pillow. Just like fighting against the hammer, my tactic for the whip was to close the distance to get inside the arc of its reach.


    I rushed her.


    She expected that. She kicked me solidly in the groin with one of her cowboy boots. Then she elbowed me in the back, forcing me to the ground, and in the same movement, she raised her whip and brought it down across my back, tearing through my hoodie and shirt. It could have been worse, but I could tell she drew blood again, as I groaned and struggled to get back up.


    She hit me again, slicing viciously, the pain in my back like a knife cut from my shoulder to my hip. I closed my eyes and held fast as she hit me again, ripping through the hoodie. By the fourth fierce slash, I was feeling more numb than anything.


    I rolled over, yelping as my back hit the ground, pillow raised in front of me.


    She stopped, eying me closely, her bloody whip dangling at her side, ready to lash out at any moment.


    I knew what I needed to do then. I unzipped my pants and pulled them down. "Giddy up!" I yelled.


    One of two things was about to happen. She was either going to jump my bones or slice me in some very sensitive places with her whip. I braced myself.


    Dust and feathers flew through the air as time stopped. Moments before death can do that to a person. I saw everything clearly.


    @horsehead brought her whip back for another lash. She let out a feral scream that cut through the laughter of the pillow fight behind us. I heard the air whistle as the whip came toward me, a violent strike.


    The whip cracked hard against the floor next to me, and the sound made me wince. But she had missed me. I breathed a sigh of relief.


    Her scream became a flurry of cries, raw and unrestrained, as she pounced on me, bringing her hips over mine and digging her knees into my sides. She grabbed my shoulders firmly with her hands. My back was burning and bloodied, but I leaned into the moment with her, trying to ignore the pain.


    I realized in that moment that this was the closest I had been to a woman in decades. Years of isolation in space sunk in. I wanted this moment with @horsehead, as odd as it seemed, as irrational as it seemed. And I wanted to know more about her, her favorite book, her favorite music, her favorite food. Maybe I even wanted to take her on a date.


    But first I''d have to kill her.


    As we pivoted from physical fighting to physical flirting, she made the mistake of looking me in the eyes.


    Her fierce intensity softened. I saw her smile, a cute and pretty smile that she had been hiding behind years of Itokawan survival. The force of her body against me softened as well.


    She giggled at me, a genuine little giggle, and bent down to kiss my lips.


    I had the advantage now.


    I head-butted her in the nose, stunning her. My pillow was at my side. She hadn''t noticed me grip it tightly in my right hand as I waited for my opportunity to strike. I clumsily twisted, our bodies entangled, maneuvering until I found myself positioned above her.


    She looked at me angrily. The violence came back to her, and she tried to pull me close.


    I slid the pillow in between us, over her face, and pressed down with all my strength, smothering her. I held her down. She lurched with her body, trying to escape, but we were inseparably linked.


    Feelings of sadness ran through me. I had killed many people. It was most of my job as a Wavepilot. Go blow things up. Don''t worry about the people inside the spaceships. They''ll be reanimated. Quick and painless death. Blow up a ship here and there, and it''s just another day in the office.


    Taking someone''s life like this was different. I wanted to stroke her hair and tell her everything would be all right, that the world was a wonderful place full of love, laughter, and pillow fights. I wanted to bring her blankets when she was cold, make her tea when she wasn''t feeling well.


    Instead, I continued to choke the life out of her, my brain crying all the while.


    I eased up when she went still, cautiously, to see if she was still conscious. She panted, her chest rising and falling as she heaved deep breaths of the dusty air in the corridor.


    Maybe I don''t have to kill her, I thought.


    "I think I love you," she gasped, and then she tried to stab me in the side with a knife that she had tucked away somewhere.


    I don''t think you know what love is, I thought to myself, but I didn''t say the words aloud. I flicked the knife away with my left hand. She had so little strength left that it was a wasted effort on her part.


    I smiled down at her, a sincere smile.


    She shrugged, or at least, I think she shrugged, the hint of a smile touching the corner of her mouth. She knew what was coming and accepted it. I had won.


    "May you remember," I said, and then I finished snuffing the life out of her.

 4.8 - Down in the Gutter

    The fight with @horsehead took too long. I knew that while it was happening, but there was little I could do about it. Fortunately, the pillow fight carried on and on in the background. The people in this part of Itokawa had forgotten completely about the Fracker and were too busy smacking each other silly. I grabbed my jacket and gravity hammer, leaving the pillow to rest over @horsehead''s face, and went on the run again, trying to stabilize my emotions.


    I had to concentrate on not getting lost in the reconfigured Itokawan passageways. I pointed myself toward the Cosmic Gutter and ultimately the Port of Alloy, where I hoped my crew and ship were still waiting.


    A small crowd started to follow, but it wasn''t as big as before. The news broadcast pivoted between rumors of the Fracker, the live pillow fight taking place outside Stellar Dreams at the outskirts of the Garden District, and a hot new story about peace talks between the Introverts and Extroverts.


    Peace talks? That was news to me. I wondered how much of that was real. We seemed caught in a cycle of passive war, peace talks, and fervent war, but it had been a few decades since any real peace talks. Most of my existence has been passive war. We were "meh" right up until the Occator Flood in UC159, the embassy bombing on Ceres that flooded the ocean city of Mariana-1, killing 137,431 people from the 1.8 million population. They plucked me out of the mining crew after that, but a few years later we were back to "meh."


    I wished I was back on my ship, not just because I''d be safe, but because then I could have time, and a more secure channel, to check my messages and find out what was going on out there.


    I spied the Cosmic Gutter as I rounded a corner and hung a sharp left. I was grateful for something familiar, and I was feeling better now about my chances of making it back. I dared myself with a plan of going into the store and escaping through the same storeroom passage where Amy had led us. By my calculations, that would be a nice shortcut to the next set of hallways that would lead me toward the Port of Alloy.


    The last time I did this, @foxcutter and I were immediately caught by the Thrusters, and I was pretty sure Amy had something to do with that. Would I be caught again if I did the same thing? Was I insane for thinking I''d get a different result? I didn''t have any better ideas at the moment, so took a firm grip on my gravity hammer and sprinted for the Cosmic Gutter.


    It turned out, going into the Cosmic Gutter was a dumb idea. The small trail of pursuers behind me saw me enter, which I had foreseen. But I didn''t expect the inside of the Cosmic Gutter to be filling up with people who had figured out my general direction and were coming in from other entrances. I ran down an aisle filled with bolts, screws, and nails before getting cornered.


    The group ahead of me was four men. They were unarmed. One of them held a slice of pizza in his left hand. No one was prepared for the Fracker to suddenly show up, so of course, few had any weapons. These four must have figured they could overpower me. I was just a miner after all.


    "You gonna slap me with that pizza or what?" I mocked them. I raise my gravity hammer high above my head and screamed. I charged at them.


    That sent them running. The man with the pizza slice tossed it in my general direction, as if that would slow me down, before scampering backwards and diving off to the ground on his left.


    The stupid pizza slice hit my right arm and the front of my leather jacket. I cursed, hoping the stain would come out. But then again, with all the blood from my back, this jacket would need to be trashed anyway. For good measure, I slammed my gravity hammer into the display of screws to my right, near where the asshole with the pizza had gone. My hammer smashed it wonderfully, sending dented metal shelving and screws flying toward him. I heard a lovely yelp from that direction, and I continued running forward.


    I took a right next, skipping over the fallen screws, and ran down toward the heavy machinery.


    I reached an open intersection in the store where four aisles converged, the center of which was a shopping display featuring solar power generators, on sale now for $487 qcoins. That seemed expensive to me, but probably Itokawa being so remote and dirty allowed them to drive the price up.


    I recognized @golfswinger ahead of me with two of his goons. They had guns. That was bad.


    Another group was on my far right. They had armed themselves with items from the store. That was another reason coming inside was stupid. I had given them the weapons they needed. Two of them had gravity hammers just like mine. The other had a small axe in each hand.


    Then there was a group in dark blue and black soldier fatigues and full helmets that were extremely well equipped, the kind of folks you''d expect to find in a war situation. I spotted two people in the back with machine guns out, two more with shock spears at the front, and their obvious leader, who held a shotgun pointed at my chest. He was an imposing man, but not the biggest I''d seen. Similar in build to @golfswinger but thicker, more muscular. One on one, I could probably take him, only because I''m faster than most.


    I glanced behind me. More of the dark blue and black soldiers were coming down the aisle toward me.


    I was fucked.


    Which usually means it''s time to start talking.


    "Okay, okay now," I began. "You all think I''m the Fracker, and you want your money. I''m not." I looked at each of them, my left hand out with the palm extended, my right hand out in a nonthreatening way, but still gripping the gravity hammer. "I just got caught up in all of this like you did."


    I pointed at @golfswinger. "Ask him! He knows me. I''m @wrench. I''m just a businessperson here to make a deal." I used my left hand to make the h sign, indicating I was trafficking humans.


    The leader of the black and blues spoke next. He glanced toward @golfswinger, his shotgun still pointed at me. "This true, Thruster?"


    @golfswinger confirmed with a shake of his head. "He is what he says. We got a tip to intercept him."


    I slowed my breathing, relaxing a little. They all held where they were. They weren''t just going to let me walk out though, even if they believed I wasn''t the Fracker. They''d want proof. They''d want to take me down anyway and sort it out later.


    "But is he the Fracker?" @golfswinger continued. "I don''t know. I''m not willing to bet $5.7M qcoins on it." He eyed the competing groups around me. "I''m open to splitting it. No need for us to fight each other for him."


    He made a great stupid point. They all seemed to be liking that idea. I had to do something, so I addressed the leader of the black and blues.


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    "Who are you anyway? Ash Drifters? Hollow Kings? Dustborn? Black Ember Pact? Bloodworm?" I rattled off the various criminal or underworld groups I could think of. They were too well kitted out for Hollow Kings or Ash Drifters. I was betting on Black Ember Pact.


    "Gravemind Syndicate," he replied. That meant nothing to me, but the others flinched at his words.


    "You''ve clearly got the advantage here," I said. "I''m going to end up going out of here with someone. I''d rather it be you."


    That caused a rumble around me. A fight was coming. The only question was if it was me against the world or if these Gravemind soldiers would help me cause some problems so that I could try to give them all the slip.


    I needed to rush their decision.


    "I''m ready for war," I said confidently, slipping gracefully into a combat stance with my hammer at the ready. I smiled so wide that I must have looked like a creepy jack-o-lantern. Sure, I was outnumbered, but these were Thrusters and goons. The ordinary citizens had ran away. I could kill everyone here without remorse.


    Time for another risk. I wasn''t going to pull my pants down this time. "To war!" I shouted, and I threw myself forward at @golfswinger.


    "Kill!" the Gravemind leader ordered.


    No mistaking that.


    But he didn''t shoot me with his shotgun. He waited for me to cross in front of him and then fired, striking the man with the two small axes. More guns rang out as the Gravemind Syndicate opened fire freely.


    I surged ahead, landing a satisfying blow to @golfswinger, who had been trying to figure out if the Gravemind Syndicate was going to fight with or against him. I wasn''t the real threat in the room apparently. That worked to my advantage. @golfswinger didn''t have time to react as I bashed him on his left shoulder, flipping the gravity force on and watching it crush down on him, sending him screaming to the floor.


    He tried to get up, his left arm hanging useless, crushed but still attached. I spun to my right to avoid one of his thugs, who started firing his pistol at me. Looked like a snark15 handgun, small and easy to hide, but effective. It would penetrate the leather, but it would take multiple shots to do me in.


    As I spun, I lifted the hammer upward and back to take a nice big swing. I was preparing for a tremendous blow, in the style of a golf swing. It was only fitting. I swung down in an powerful arc, connecting with @golfswinger''s head.


    "Reanimate this!" I screamed, while at the same time thinking I should have yelled Fore! in classic golf style. @golfswinger''s head exploded into tiny bits, pieces of skull flying forward with a spray of blood. The Cosmic Gutter was going to be a mess.


    One of @golfswinger''s goons saw what I had done to his boss and turned off at a hard sprint. No amount of money was apparently worth having one''s brain split open. I had the advantage on all of them. Most people try to stay alive. I had been trained to die. I feared mostly for others and my own sanity.


    I used my golf swing momentum to carry myself into another spin, going after the remaining Thruster while team Gravemind cleared away the rest. I missed on purpose to get him to move into a location where I could smash him. Then I carried the arc forward again, flowing from one move into the next, keeping the hammer going in a graceful arc. I slammed him across the chest with a thunk and the sound of crunching bones. He was probably dead before he bonked into the stack of power generators behind him.


    My attack was brilliant. The Gravemind soliders were on the other side of the display, taking care of the ruffians and thugs who had followed me in. The tower of power generators fell like a vertical stack of bowling pins, down and out to the sides, loud and dangerous, offering me a moment to get away.


    I turned and ran. There was nothing else to do. I couldn''t take them all out. I dashed for the counter, down the aisle and off to my left.


    I spotted Amy, her eyes peeking just above the countertop.


    "Secure the room," I heard the leader shout from behind me, where the thumping of gunfire was dying down.


    I dove over the counter, falling to the floor, my breath racing. I crouched and eyed a terrified Amy, in her same jeans and white t-shirt.


    "You owe me," I said sternly.


    I stood up and threw my hammer forward in the direction of stomping boots, triggering its gravity force just as I released it. The hammer flew forward, and in that moment, I felt like the god Thor.


    Music played in the background, majestic and ominous. Time slowed as the hammer soared through the air, an unstoppable force. I felt energy flow through me, the hair on my body jolted out as chills electrified every cell in my body. The pain from the lashes of the whip were nothing to me. I was the eternal guardian of the solar system.


    I laughed the laugh of the gods.


    Then I noticed I was peeing myself, and Amy was holding a taser to my neck.


    I stood there watching the hammer fly with intense satisfaction, while drool built in the corner of my mouth and my limbs convulsed.


    "Goddamnit!" I yelled, although it sounded more like "gommammunt."


    I slapped the taser away, falling backwards, catching myself roughly on my wrists. Anti-electrification mods managed to keep me functional, but the pain was still real.


    "Motherfucker!" I screamed again, looking angrily at Amy.


    She rushed toward me again with the taser. I kicked her away and grabbed the taser, yanking it away from her. I pinned her down with my right arm and put my face close to her ear.


    "I''m not your enemy," I said firmly.


    I let her go and listened to the screams as my hammer thundered to a halt somewhere in the store.


    "Follow me," she panted, breathlessly. And then she opened a hatch below us, leading down into darkness.


    Oh god, I thought. I really hope she doesn''t fuck me over again.


    I gulped and threw myself down the opening, landing painfully on my back, hitting a wood floor. Amy followed, down a ladder I hadn''t seen. She closed the iron hatch, leaving us blind in a warm dark place.


    A dim light appeared.


    Amy stood with a flashlight. She fired up another and handed it toward me. I groaned, lifting myself, happily taking the flashlight from her and looking around the room.


    There was a small but comfortable looking old chair, a small table with books, and a framed photo of an ocean. The ceiling was thick metal. That hatch would only open with a sizable explosive. I didn''t doubt the Gravemind Syndicate would either have one or be able to get one relatively quickly. We were safe for the moment, but needed to keep moving.


    "I come down here sometimes to get away from everything," Amy said, an explanation for her little chair away from the world.


    "Trust me. I get it," I replied. She moved away from the ladder and opened a panel on the far wall. It was a ventilation shaft, running under the store.


    "I''m sorry about before. I have to feed the local groups something every once in a while. It''s good for business."


    I noticed she called them groups, like they were little social clubs. Not criminals. Not the underbelly of legal society. These were her people. I had to figure most Itokawans felt that way.


    "We are all the underbelly," I said. That would be a great motto for Itokawa, I thought, and it seemed appropriate, even coming from the Fracker.


    "Yes, we are," Amy acknowledged approvingly.


    I walked over to her side. She was short and slim. She was on her own. She was no match for the chaos that was coming for me.


    "You coming with me?" I asked.


    She laughed. That was reassuring. I can''t even tell you how nice that feeling was in that moment below the halls of Itokawa.


    "It''s been a day," I said, laughing back.


    "I have countermeasures upstairs." Amy seemed very confident. "I''ll just sit here and have a good read, check the monitors from time to time."


    She flashed her wrist and a little holographic display popped up against the wall, showing a live view of the soldiers above us, standing, and then suddenly falling to the ground as shocks ran through the floor of the store.


    "Don''t look at me that way," Amy said. "You forget where you are."


    She was right. This was Itokawa, and this was the Cosmic Gutter. There was a reason I had added mission to my logs to come back here and steal something.


    I laughed again. "I''m crossing Steal something from the Cosmic Gutter off my list."


    She raised her eyebrow at me.


    "Oh, I didn''t steal something," I corrected myself. "I was planning to, but I don''t think that''s necessary."


    She nodded, reaching out to hold onto the arm of my leather jacket. With her flashlight, she pointed down the dark ventilation tunnel. I followed her gaze.


    "Follow that out. Keep going straight and left." She paused thinking. "Yeah, straight and left. That will take you toward the ports. It exits to a service passage nearby. I assume you''re trying to get to a ship."


    "Yes," I said.


    She turned away, retreating to her chair, where she flopped down, looking perfectly at home.


    "Thank you. Enjoy your chair away from the world."


    She smiled and waved. No apology for trying to electrocute me to death.


    I waved back and ducked slightly, crouching my way through the dark tunnels of Itokawa. This wouldn''t be my last time, but that''s a story for another time.

 4.9 - Buddy

    Amy''s directions were good enough. I exited the dark tunnels, leaving smells of must and salt behind me, and made my way down a small set of service passages. I was in a tiny maze barely wider than I was that led to electric panels, ventilation systems, and various utilities that kept Itokawa running.


    I reached a hallway with another service passage on the adjoining side. I would be able to get a good look at the Port of Alloy security gates from there. I ran across and ducked inside the passage. I was close enough that I could just about make a run for it, but the big town square at the Port of Alloy had a mass of people, no doubt everyone who had intended to leave and was now stuck here due to the chase for the Fracker. Little seating areas littered the square, some even with trees (real trees).


    I risked opening the comms.


    kittyboy: "Status report."


    I leaned back against the wall, sliding my way down away from the opening deeper into the passageway.


    foxcutter: "We''re here. We made it."


    I breathed a sigh of relief.


    kittyboy: "I''m close. I slipped away from the pack that was after me, but the port is super-congested. I think I can make a run for it, but I don''t have a stun gun. People may die. I''m thinking of a plan."


    foxcutter: "Scans show a thinner crowd at the south entrance. There''s a 4C PreCheck line that you should be able to run through."


    kittyboy: "Perfect! Remember, if I don''t make it, take off. Get out of here. Contact @horus about our lead and do as he says."


    I couldn''t believe I was saying that, but as frustrated as I could get with @horus, he was the closest to these events after us.


    astrowave: "Do you need me to come get you?"


    Good old @astrowave, ever flowing with the Thunder Ops spirit.


    kittyboy: "No, but thank you."


    @foxcutter sent me a scan of the surrounding area from the ship''s sensors. I pulled it up. More guards had been dispatched along the ports, but there were many points of entry and only so many guards to spare. On top of that, the pillow fight continued to rage on, causing damage in one of the more expensive parts of Itokawa. According to the news, the fight expanded out from Stellar Dreams to a small vegetable market nearby and a boutique cosmetics store, the contents of which had been shattered.


    The Itokawan authorities would be responding to the pillow fight to keep their privileged residents happy. Sure, there were a lot of people here, but it was mostly civilians.


    I saw a route appear on the map, @foxcutter''s suggested path to the south checkpoint. Looked reasonable. I primed myself. If I could make it this far, I could absolutely bolt through there in time to get to The Pharaoh.


    "Are you the Fracker?"


    I jumped, startled. A man was standing next to me, farther back down the maintenance corridor.


    "No," I lied. "This is ridiculous. All of Itokawa is after me. I need a way to show them I''m not the Fracker."


    He nodded, coming closer. He wore blue workman''s pants, a dark red shirt, and a gray hat with the emblem of Otter Chaos on it, a professional spaceball team in the Solar Spaceball Association. He looked harmless, a mechanic who followed the SSA. I was a huge SSA fan myself.


    "You staying on world?" he asked.


    I eyed him closely. He was carrying something.


    "Don''t think I can. I''ll have to get to my ship and leave, if I can make it." He nodded again, but I could tell he was happy with my answer.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    "Look, I know you''ve got a lot on your plate, but I need a favor."


    Of course he did. Everyone wants something.


    "I''m not really in a position to do anyone any favors. I just need to get out of here. Like now."


    "It''s an easy one," he insisted. He held his arms out, and presented me with a tiny little kitten. "I had a litter. Adopted all but this little guy."


    The kitten was a gray tabby with yellow eyes. He was so tiny I could easily carry him securely in one hand. I had told my crew no kittens, but this one was melting my heart just at the sight of him. I wanted to hug him close and spin around, kiss him on the head, and ruffle his fur.


    I held my hands out to gesture no. "I can''t take a cat. Why is it so important to get rid of him? Can''t you keep him or find someone else?"


    Instead of accepting my response, he forced me to catch the cat, pushing it into my arms.


    "I''ve a gambling debt at Circuit Cypher. If they stop by and find a cat, they''ll take it and sell it. You know what happens to cats that they sell, right?"


    I just looked at him blankly, as the kitten reached up and began licking my nose eagerly. I cringed and then accepted it, smelling his slightly gross kitty breath and feeling his rough tongue on the bottom of my nose.


    "Food," the man said. "I can''t let this cat turn into food. I''ve been at the port all day finding people to take them off world."


    That sounded reasonable.


    "Thing is, what with the Fracker and all, they''ve practically shut down the ports. No one is going to get through 4C Customs with an undeclared animal."


    I understood then what he was getting at. Lucky him that I showed up here. "Except me, of course. Since I have to break out somehow."


    "Exactly," the man said. "I saw where the crowds were and took a shot." He pointed at his head. "And it worked. I''ve got good sense about me, no matter what anyone at Circuit Cypher says."


    The man seemed like he was being hard on himself, or maybe he''d just been kicked down a lot from life on Itokawa. Meanwhile, the kitty continued licking my nose. I pulled him away, and he reached a tiny paw up and gently grabbed my nose, then reached his head forward, licking again, completely oblivious to anything other than his mission - to clean this person''s nose.


    This guy totally cheated in this negotiation, if you could call it that. There was no way I could let this kitten go now. He had claimed me. The cat distribution system is at work on Itokawa, I laughed to myself. I could give this man a small victory today.


    One final test.


    "What do you think the Otters need to do before the trade deadline?" I asked as casually as I could. I knew the SSA extremely well. Sure, he could pull up rosters, he could query for common responses to my question, but I''d know. True fans can read through the tabloids and bullshit popular opinions.


    He thought about that one, almost too long, but he might only be a passive fan. I''d have to take that into consideration. "They should trade Bastida. I know he''s a good defender, but he''s too slow for their style."


    Good, I thought to myself, nodding. That wasn''t a popular opinion. Fans were polarized on Bastida, but the overwhelming majority loved him. They only looked at the stat lines and highlights, I thought. It should be obvious to anyone who actually watches the games that he hurts the Otters more than he helps them. But again, I have high observational skills that feed into my futurecasting.


    "Fine," I said. "I''ll take the cat."


    I didn''t have anywhere to put him. I''d have to carry him. I didn''t like that, but I would manage. We would managed, kitty and I.


    "You''re coming with me, Buddy," I said, holding the cat out in front of my face and peering at his cute little eyes. He licked his nose, like he just had a good meal, but didn''t fuss, content to let me hold him.


    "That settles it then," I said. "What do I get out of it?"


    The man laughed. "The cat."


    I shrugged. That was fair. I didn''t have time to negotiate a fee anyway.


    That was when I started to feel numb. In fact, very numb. I wondered how long I had been losing the feeling in my legs. I held the kitten close, put my weight back against the wall in the narrow corridor, and slid down to sit on the dusty floor.


    Panic mode activated.


    Had I taken a dart or a whiff of stun gas? I tried to scan recent events. Nothing. Nothing made sense, except. What had the man done to me?


    The cat! The cat was poisonous! How dare he!?!


    I lowered the cat into my lap, sitting with my knees up in front of me, as the tingling hit my arms and fingertips. I would be completely immobilized soon. The kitty just snuggled up there, perfect happy and perfectly unaware. It wasn''t his fault.


    I messaged the crew while I still could.


    kittyboy: "Get out of here."


    And I promptly set it to do not disturb. That should do the trick.


    Moments later, I was just passively watching what was going on around me, just me and my active brain, and my useless body.


    The man chuckled, satisfactorily, and lifted his hand to his mouth. "I got him." He squatted, looking me in the face. He snapped his fingers in front of my eyes, annoyingly. "Yep. That''s right."


    He flicked my face below my left eye. Then he flicked it again below my right eye. Asshole.


    "Yeah. Okay, will do. See you soon."


    He stood up and studied me. "Works every time. I swear, every bounty hunter needs a stock of kittens. Just as useful as tracking beacons and high-end quantum sensory scanners if you ask me."


    I added a new mission to my personal log.


    Escape. Find this guy. Free all the cats. Kill this guy.


    My mission log as a Vanquisher was getting longer and longer. I was mildly anxious about being able to complete all these quests. Where would I start?


    That was a dumb question.


    I''d start by escaping and getting the hell off Itokawa.

 5.1 - Hollow Kings

    Have you ever met someone who terrified you, someone who you were absolutely scared shitless of from the moment you saw them?


    I hadn''t until that moment, down in the dark underbelly of Itokawa, when I regained enough movement to move my eyes and focus them. I saw only darkness at first.


    He appeared as a silhouette manifesting out of the shadows, like I was adjusting the brightness on a display only to reveal that a man had been standing there the whole time unseen, unheard, watching me. He was bigger and stronger than @astrowave and @cyberneticflare.


    As he came into focus, I noticed his skin had a deep rusty color, an orange hue infused within his body. His face was stern like iron, the whites of his eyes a brilliant contrast to his black pupils and obscured face.


    I had no problem facing off with the Thrusters. I was even ready to go at the leader of the Gravemind squad. But I wanted nothing to do with this man. He would murder me harshly and violently. I had no doubt about it. Speed had nothing to do with it. I could be the fastest being in the world. I could land a dozen hits without even taking a blow. But eventually he would just grab me and throttle me. I''d be dead in an instant, flung in a corner like a pillow with the stuffing ripped out.


    I shivered as he came closer, or at least my brain did. My body just pulsed slowly and automatically, but I was starting to get some feeling back, and that feeling was telling me to run away.


    "You know why they call us Kings?" he asked in a deep, resonant voice. "K-I-N-G," he said, spelling it out. "Killing In the Name of God. And you know who god is?"


    He sat down in a chair in front of me. His presence in the room masked my own, like a black hole pulling in everything in its orbit. I felt small, weak, unsure of myself.


    "Me," he said. "I am god."


    "Niesh duw neet tewe, gohd," I mumbled, grunting out nice to meet you, god through my waking lips.


    "You can call me James."


    And that''s how I met the leader of the Hollow Kings.


    I kept working at my limbs as the feeling started to return. My thoughts went to The Pharaoh. With any luck, my crew had successfully left Itokawa. They would have been grounded, told not to leave by the authorities, so taking off would have resulted in a chase of some kind. @foxcutter was good. He would know how to deal with tractor beams if they had any, and maybe @zerogstar could help him with her knowledge of the asteroid.


    But they didn''t have a solid pilot. I was the pilot. I wondered what they would do. The ship''s computer would kick in and assist, but it would be too predictable. Someone would have to at least nudge it.


    I couldn''t worry about that now. I had to start thinking about how to store my memories so that I could retrieve them after the Extrovert Starmada reanimated me.


    Yeah, I felt bleak. I won''t lie. I didn''t expect to leave this room alive.


    "Meh kidday?" I asked, inquiring about my kitten.


    "You are Eshu, misfortune or opportunity," James replied. He was referring to a trickster deity of the crossroads, two-faced to give people blessings or curses, gatekeeper of the spiritual world.


    It probably looked ridiculous, but I tried to smile. I liked that description. It seemed to suit my mission on Itokawa.


    "Your kitten is chaos, a destructive force of nature, with sharp claws and a vengeful spirit."


    I shrugged. "Meh kidday?" I asked again, more insistent.


    James snapped his fingers. Another person I hadn''t seen came forward from my left side and placed the gray tabby in my lap. The kitten crawled up my chest and began assaulting my nose again with forceful licks. There was nothing I could do about it. My limbs were slowly coming back to life, but I lumbered just to lift my hand to my lap.


    "Eye luv ewe doo," I muttered to the kitty. I looked up at James through the joyful face and whiskers of the kitten.


    "The kitten is safe. Toxoplasm doesn''t work on cats. Just a temporary transportation mechanism," James explained.


    He stood up and motioned. Light entered the room, like a slow sunrise, giving off a warm morning hue. The chair he had sat in, a dark green fabric, was shredded to pieces, stuffing popping out of the side, threads hanging down below.


    "His name is Sango. We call him Sparky," James said.


    Sparky, I thought. Meh. I would maybe rename the little guy. I had to get a sense for the cat''s personality first, assuming I could keep him.


    "Meh kidday?" I asked again, with emphasis on the my.


    James chuckled. "Yes, you can keep the cat. It has bonded with you. I may be a monster, but I''m not a monster."


    That made me happy for two reasons. One, kitty. Two, maybe I wasn''t going to die after all.


    I shrugged at James. "What''s next?" I asked, surprised that it came out of my lips coherently.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    I was able to raise my hand more now. I cupped it around the kitten, moving my face back to spare my nose from being licked raw. I wiggled my toes. This was going pretty well. I could even make a run for it eventually, if I could figure out where the door was. Must be a panel somewhere that slides open.


    "Here is what I know," James rumbled. "You are not worth $7.1M qcoins."


    The bounty had climbed pretty high. Sure, I had planted the bounty in the first place, but it was still something to be proud of. The question I had was, if I wasn''t worth anything to the Hollow Kings, why was I still alive?


    "But you are worth something to me. A Vanquisher. That''s impressive."


    Oh shit. He knew. I wondered how he knew.


    "And you really are the Fracker," he continued. "That''s something." James had an odd tick, rubbing his large right hand atop his bald skull, like he was giving himself a head massage. It made it look like he was summoning thoughts into his head. "I''d love to make a profit on that, but proving it would be hard. Too easy to fake these days. Besides, the people of Itokawa prefer their mysteries. They don''t want you to be the Fracker."


    Well, fuck me. So, he knew I was the Fracker as well. What didn''t the Hollow Kings know about me?


    There was no sense in denying any of it, so I just needed to figure out how to get out of this predicament. "Why am I here, @god?" I managed to ask, my lips starting to respond more and more.


    "James," he corrected me.


    My brain was waking up. The way he said James, the one word, the human name, reminded me of Amy from the Cosmic Gutter. I made a note of that, and once again my suspicions about how much I could trust Amy rose to mind. Maybe I''d have to steal something from her after all. That would suck. I really needed to get something crossed off my mission log.


    I added Get Away from James and the Hollow Kings to the list.


    "What''s the deal, Jimmy?" I replied, because that''s who I am.


    Unlike many of the people I''d encountered recently, James didn''t assault me, but he didn''t laugh either. Maybe worse, he just stood there and looked at me, all serious, with a cool demeanor.


    "I deal in information."


    He motioned, and I heard someone walk over to me from behind. They bit me in the neck, like a fucking vampire, and goddamnit did that hurt. Don''t believe all those movies about vampires where the victims are like, Oh, this is so nice. Please suck my blood and have passionate sex with me while I bleed all over this lovely couch. It''s a bunch of bullshit.


    I flinched as the teeth sank in and realized for the first time that there was a rubber band around my waist connecting me to the chair, and the chair was bolted to the ground. I could move all my limbs, but I wasn''t going anywhere. I also realized that the Hollow Kings had bandaged and wrapped my torso where @horsehead had slashed me with her whip, so they must not want me to die just yet.


    "Couldn''t you have done that when I was still numb," I pleaded, lifting my arm to wipe blood and drool from my neck, smearing my hoodie with filth. My hoodie had definitely seen better days.


    It didn''t take long for the room to go out of focus. Sparky stopped licking my nose and finally settled into my lap. I could see kitty, but I seemed to be only able to focus on one thing at a time, if that.


    The vampire probably had an arsenal of toxins they could inject. In this case, I was pretty sure it was some sort of truth serum. I was really tired of being beaten and drugged, but in this instant, I didn''t really care. I just wanted to go to sleep on my nice fluffy butterfly rug. I bet kitty would like that too.


    "What are you doing on Itokawa?" James asked.


    I lifted my head a little and the huge orange form of James came into focus, but big and distorted, like I was looking at him through the bottom of a glass.


    "Donuts and coffee," I mumbled. "Breakfast. I''m so hungry."


    James looked to his left. With limp muscles, I tossed my head in that direction to see a wildly distorted view of the vampire. She was a gorgeous woman with short black hair, but she didn''t bother trying to do the sexy vampire thing. I really wanted to see a bikini and a cape or like a full mesh outfit that hinted at what was underneath. That would have been nice. I felt like I deserved a sexy vampire.


    No. I got the fucking horrifying version. She had blood, my blood, still on her face. She was licking it off, mildly, and dabbing with a handkerchief. She wore a full black tactical suit, not sexy at all really, that made her look like a vampire soldier. In my drugged up state, her face was too big in the wrong places, emphasizing her bloody fangs.


    I screamed again.


    She shrugged and looked at me. Then she held up seven fingers, the last three of them blood stained. She slowly lowered one at a time, counting down.


    When she reached zero, James asked me again. "What are you doing on Itokawa?"


    My mind went to the cat on my lap. "Adopting a kitten," I slurred.


    The big orange shape stared at me, and then he tried again. "Why did you come to Itokawa?"


    That was a good question. Precise. My dull brain couldn''t work around it.


    "Looking for information. A contact to sell @bitchfrog," I said. Then I broke down into tears, the realization hitting me again. "I don''t want to sell @bitchfrog. She''s a human. She might die. Please. I don''t want to sell her."


    Expand this and break it out. This is an opportunity for humor! Take it.


    "Why do you need to sell @bitchfrong?"


    I wept, and between sobs I mumbled all about the zombies and trying to follow the source. James kept asking questions, and I just cried and spilled my guts. That truth bite really worked.


    I started to collect my wits toward the end of my ramble.


    "And how do they get people to test the virus on?" I asked rhetorically. "They can''t just take over a colony. They can''t just ask for volunteers. I didn''t volunteer. They were like, Guess what? You''re a Vanquisher now. Go find the evil scientists. I haven''t found them. I found @mirrorbird. I thought she was evil but she isn''t. We went on a date, but I don''t think we''ll see each other again. She smelled like flowers. Everything else smelled like death, especially the zombies. The zombies are coming! And @horsehead was sexy but crazy. She''s going to kill me when she reanimates. Trafficking of aiways and humans needs to stop. That''s bad. I like @auroraloon. She looked like a sexy snake, not like a freaking horrifying vampire."


    "Why don''t you wear sexy clothes, huh?" I continued, rotating to the vampire again and yelping at her disturbing face. "Do you not like biting people? I bet people would line up to be bitten if you were completely nude instead of screaming all the time. Will you take your clothes off? Not you, James. That would freak me out. I miss @auroraloon. She''s alive somewhere, but I don''t think she remembers me. They blew up the lab, but we escaped. I''m a pilot. I''m a fantastic pilot. And I die a lot. Soooo maanny tiiimees. I think my brain is broken. Potatoes! No more potatoes!"


    James finally stood up, his enormous form causing me to stop mumbling and scream again. He touched my cheek and lifted my face. I stared at his huge orange head.


    "Pumpkin head! The Great Pumpkin! You''re the Great Pumpkin!" I yelled, terrified. "Is it Halloween? Are you going to visit the pumpkin patch?"


    He squeezed my jaw, but thankfully he didn''t break it. I stopped yammering.


    "What do you want from us?" he asked, still holding my face tightly.


    "Help me save the world," I grumbled through his grip.


    "And we have a winner!" James boomed, releasing my jaw and clapping his hands. "Let''s get this man a doctor."

 5.2 - New ARMor

    The Hollow Kings was a more powerful group than I had suspected. Unlike other groups on Itokawa, they operated in hiding, refusing to flaunt their power, meaning few knew much about them. The Extronet had barely anything for me to go on, although I did learn that their emblem was a skeleton king (supposedly). I didn''t see any skeleton kings on display in the Hollow Kings abode, nor on their people.


    A random thug led me down a dark hallway, with the vamp walking by my side and thunderous James behind me. I was feeling a bit better now that I wasn''t bound to a chair, and my head was starting to clear from the vampy''s truth bite. I glanced over at her and was happy to see that her face was not horrifyingly distorted any more.


    "You will never see me nude," the vampire said, responding to my glance.


    "I¡¯m really sorry about that," I replied. "It was the truth serum."


    But I realized that was a lame apology, so I tried again. "Look. Truth serum or not, it was inappropriate. I have a vague recollection of what I said, and if I said it, I''m thinking it."


    "I can play it back for you if you''d like."


    "No," I interjected. "I reviewed it and filed it to my gray matter, where I put my shameful deeds."


    The gray matter is what I call the foggy part of storage. Having a hybrid organic and digitized brain is tricky. The organic is constantly being digitized. I can remember everything, but the organic part feels more ¡­ real in some ways, so most of us try to lean on that for sake of Ashfield''s Law of Authenticity.


    "So you''re like, all gray matter then?" she joked.


    "I''d be ashamed to admit that," I quipped.


    I raised my right hand to my chest, briefly touching my sternum, and extended it outward toward the vampire like I was presenting a gift, daring to look her in the eyes. She was a vampire after all. "I apologize."


    She took her measure of me. "Forget about it."


    That was a powerful phrase. It implied that she would be fine if I completely erased the event from my memory. But I noticed she didn''t say I was forgiven. That was fair. I''d have to earn forgiveness.


    "I''m @kittyboy, by the way," I said, extending my hand for a handshake.


    "I know," she said. She looked at my hand. "Don''t do that."


    "Don''t shake hands?" I clarified, raising an eyebrow. I mean, yes, that was a way to inject poisons, electrodes, you name it. That was why a handshake had more meaning these days. It showed both friendship and trust.


    "Yes. Not everyone is into shaking hands, making physical contact. It''s too presumptuous."


    She was a bit snarky but didn''t seem overly upset. Besides, she had a good point. I noted that. I don''t get as much interaction with people as everyone else. All those years of mining crews and Wavepilot missions hadn''t done my social skills any favors.


    "But biting is okay?" I laughed, teasing her.


    She smiled, showing her fangs. "I don''t ask for permission. I bite what I like."


    "So you''re a hypocrite."


    "Hardly," she snorted. "I show manners when it''s appropriate to show manners. But I don''t show manners when I don''t want to show manners. That''s not presumptuous. That''s power and ego. I''m sure you can relate."


    I liked this vampire, I decided. She could bite me again if she wanted. I rubbed my neck where she had chomped down on me. The spot was sore and it stung. Or maybe not.


    We took a left, down another dark hall, finally entering a room kitted out for medical treatments. I saw my leather jacket crinkled in a bunch on one of the side tables. This must have been where they had treated my injuries. They sat me down on a rolling patient''s bed, encompassed on the sides by the blinky machines that medical people use and an assortment of gadgets. A feeling was creeping up inside me, and I realized I was nervous. I wasn''t used to medical treatment. I usually just got a brand new body.


    A dark-haired man entered the room, wearing dusty brown clothes like everyone else, but he had a long apron on with pockets in the front. He wore goggles, not like the cool ones that @shadowhacker wore, but they were nifty with glass ovals attached to a leather strap around his head. I had no doubt he could see heat signatures, flows of electricity, and organic material down through to my bones.


    I was feeling pretty good all things considered. I had bloody bite marks on my neck. I had a scabbing slash across my face from @horsehead. And I had my much destroyed back that the Hollow Kings had already bandaged. I didn''t expect them to give me a new body, but I wasn''t really sure what they could do for me. What I really needed, I thought, was a nap.


    "How do you feel about your arms?" James asked.


    That was an ominous question.


    "I like my arms," I said. "Very much."


    "Do you have any implants?" the doctor asked.


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    "Yes."


    "Let''s see them. Take off your hoodie and shirt."


    I carefully stripped down to my waist. The doctor flicked a little disc on his goggles, holding my left arm out, as I recited my implant list. Pretty basic stuff. A display. A memoryshard slot. A gas emitter. A hacking qwire port. A holo projector.


    "Starmada tech," the doctor noted. "Vanquisher, right?"


    I nodded.


    "Good, but we''ve got better." He slid back in his rolly chair, reaching for the table behind him. He held up a mechanical cylinder with a hinge down the length so it opened up at the sides.


    "Pick an arm," the doctor instructed.


    I looked at James, who stood calmly to the side with a little smirk. I was worried because I hadn''t seen him smirk like that.


    "Pick an arm," James echoed.


    I didn''t know what to do, but I didn''t feel like I had a choice. Maybe my mind was still a little fuzzy from the truth bite after all. I tried to be logical about it. I was right handed.


    "Left?" I said.


    And then that bastard doctor slapped the wristy thing on me.


    "Motherfucker!" I shouted.


    The device wrapped around my forearm, digging in deep. I could feel it, like the bite, but thousands of needles diving deep into my skin, sharp pain shooting out everywhere. I continued screaming as it worked its way down and pushed through into the bone.


    James likes to remind me of that all the time, that fucker. You have low pain tolerance, he says.


    I DO NOT!


    But damn that hurt. Once I was done screaming, I lifted my arm in front of me. It was almost like having a completely robotic arm, except it was just the forearm, and it was really just a mechanical overlay.


    "You''ll be sore for about five weeks," the doctor said. "Here." He handed me an assortment of suckers. I picked the pineapple flavor. "See if you can unwrap it."


    What? See if I can unwrap it? What were they going to do if I couldn''t? Cut my arm off?


    I gulped. Holding the pineapple sucker in my right hand, I carefully reached for the wrapper with my left and started to unwrap it. It seemed so foolish, but I was scared until I successfully removed the wrapper. It was clear that the only problem I had was that I was right-handed, not left.


    I popped it in my mouth with a satisfying sigh, trying to ignore the ongoing pain.


    "This is an Antebrachium Robotic Module," the doctor explained. "We''ve thought about fully robotic arms, but organic fingerprints are important. Besides, this isn''t just mechanical. This is a synthetic hybrid of technology and biology, just like your body. The pain will subside soon. It needs access to your marrow and is configuring to your DNA."


    Antebrachium Robotic Module. ARM. Clever.


    "This is cool, but what happens if I die?" I asked.


    "Try not to die."


    I looked at James.


    "Try not to die," he repeated.


    I shrugged. "Okay, so what does it do?"


    "Don''t ask me. Ask it. Once it''s finished configuring, it will interface with the rest of your technology. Go ahead. Run a diagnostic when you''re ready."


    I attempted one, but it was still configuring. I should have known that because the searing pain in my arm told me it was still hungry for my DNA. All I saw was the ARM as an added module where my old tech had been.


    "Why did you give me this? What''s the catch?"


    James answered this time. "I don''t necessarily buy that it''s the Introverts, but based on what you told us, something new is coming. New is dangerous. In a contained place like Itokawa, a virus like that would wreak havoc. Look at what your little pillow fight did."


    He motioned, and a screen I hadn''t noticed against the wall started showing the ongoing pillow fight. It had grown and was now out of the Garden District, sprawling into neighboring areas, a concentration forming around the technology districts of Tantalum and Gorilla.


    "People like pillow fights, I guess. Good for stress relief."


    "It''s causing hundreds of thousands of qcoins in damage," James said. "Might look fun, but that''ll cost us."


    He looked at the vampire. "You want to go, don''t you?"


    "To the pillow fight?" she asked. "Of course."


    "See what I mean?" James said, and he turned to the vampire. "Go on. Get a few whacks in and then meet us at Port Iron."


    She smiled and disappeared down the dim hall. I barely caught a glimpse of her.


    "We have a lot of hiding places. If it reaches us," James continued, massaging his head again with that huge hand of his, "we''ll know what to do. But if they''re sourcing test subjects through our ports, which it sounds like is very much the case, then you better believe they''ll want to come back here and clean up any trail they left."


    "Which means they may simply want to release the virus," I hypothesized, finishing his thought for him.


    "Exactly. And there are many ways to smuggle it onto Itokawa."


    I thought about that. Yes, everyone here needed to be ready. Itokawa would be a prime target and a perfect place to test the virus at scale. Most of the Extroverts and Introverts could care less about a neutral criminal world like this one. Itokawa was screwed unless we could stop the virus.


    "It will show up here," I said aloud.


    "We''ll act accordingly," James declared.


    I spotted my new little kitten curling up on my leather jacket as I reflected on what was before us. Disaster. Chaos. No better words for it. Sparky, or Sango, which I was starting to prefer, looked comfortable and clearly oblivious to the (cue the music), duh duh duh, impending doooom that we were facing.


    I tested the ARM again. The diagnostic worked! My HUD went nuts, flooding me with configurations, settings, and interface options. I felt like I had a miniature m1 drone embedded in my skin. I could should missiles, lasers, gas, fire, qwires. I could hack at a farther range, with more power and memory. The ARM could synchronize with different gear and weapons too. My favorite though was the grappling hook. I inspected my wrist. It could shoot out from there so that I could easily grab it with my hand.


    James and the doctor noticed my fascination. "Good stuff, right?" the doctor said, beaming.


    "You better believe it." I started putting back on my tattered shirt, but James put a hand on my shoulder. Just the touch terrified me a little.


    "Get cleaned up next door," he commanded. "We''ll take you to Port Iron. There''s a freighter there with some of our people at the docks and a more in the crew. We''ve given instructions for it to change destinations and fly to Eros. You can meet up with your people there."


    I nodded, thinking about it. This was the best I could hope for, more than what I expected. The Hollow Kings were all right after all, and I needed an ally in the fight.


    "I''m grateful. With any luck, the whole world will be grateful." I paused, considering carefully what I was about to say. Yeah, I needed to say it. "And I owe you, James. If the Hollow Kings ever need me, I''ll be here. I know I''m only one Vanquisher, but I''ll be here, and I''ll bring whatever resources I can with me."


    He seemed satisfied. "I expected no less from you, @kittyboy."


    The way he said it reminded me that they knew way too much about me. Hopefully not more than I knew about myself.


    "Call me the Great Pumpkin again, however," he added, in his deep and disconcerting voice, "and I will have you stamped from existence."


    I was so tempted to call him the Great Pumpkin then and there. On a typical day, the words would have been out of my mouth before I had the power to stop them. But I stopped them. The temptation still sat there in the back of my mind though. I''d like to see you try, I thought to myself. I decided I''d save that for another day.

 5.3 - Watching Boxes

    We stood near the exit of the service tunnels, unseen in the shadows, observing Port Iron. I knew now that the service tunnels were the bones and arteries of Itokawa, more vital than anyone understood. I also knew that the Hollow Kings were the ones who controlled the changing configurations of the passages and walkways around the city. The people here were so used to it that they accepted it as a normal part of living, and the smugglers appreciated that it gave them constant new routes to avoid authorities.


    But they just assumed it was the loosely formed, corrupt governing body that was doing it or that it was configured this way on purpose. Funny how you can live with something your whole life and not question it.


    Little did they know that it was the Hollow Kings, the information dealers. This gave the Hollow Kings the ultimate advantage. They were everywhere. The service crews were their crews. If you wanted the entire city shut down, James was the one to talk to. I had found the perfect ally.


    James assured me that the freighter was just as much under his control. It wasn''t an impressive ship, which was disappointing because I was impressed by almost every ship. But no, the ship slated to transport me to Eros was just one of the basic cube-shaped freighters that flies around all over the solar system. You see them everywhere, and they usually carried something that someone was waiting for, something that was promised for delivery in 2-3 business days and was already several days delayed, like a fluffy white rug with a butterfly on it.


    Freighters like this one operated with solar sails and traditional thrusters, no DEAD drives. I thought they looked like large boxes, which I suppose makes sense if you''re hauling stuff around.


    James, the vampire, and I took in the site of Port Iron and its many box-shaped freighters coming and going. I realized I missed the sight and sounds of ships, and I was ready to leave Itokawa at long last. I needed to find my crew and get back to the mission. This was among the busier times of day. I could rather easily walk up to any freighter here and no one would care. The Fracker pursuit had died down, unlike the pillow fight that continued to flow through Itokawa.


    The vampire still had a pillow with her, and I wondered if after I left she would rejoin the pillow fight.


    More importantly, I wondered why she had rejoined us. Was she coming with me? That would be interesting, and I could use the help. I wondered what special abilities she might have, other than biting.


    "It''s time," James said.


    The Orange Man tapped the vampire on the shoulder, and before I knew what was happening, she was biting me again. I yelped, but I tried not to fight it. I heard the rumbling chuckle of James behind me. The vampire was pressed up against me from behind, left arm wrapped around my waist, still clutching the pillow, and the other wrapped around my head, pulling it to the right so she could get at my neck easily.


    The sharp pain of her bite was worse than a needle in the veins. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, trying to focus on my toes to ignore the torment my neck was enduring. She seemed to take pleasure in it. I swear she took longer than what was strictly necessary to inject whatever venom she was using this time. When she was satisfied, she eased off her biting suckle, and I wondered if I would have bite marks or bite marks plus a hickey.


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    "You all really need to figure out how to work better with your allies," I complained when the vampire had finally released me.


    They both laughed again. The vampire''s laugh was a sonorous sound I hadn''t expected that created a beautiful chorus against the low tones coming from James.


    "This is how we work," she said, wiping her mouth.


    I frowned at them, trying to show my hurt feelings and how ashamed they should be of themselves. They didn''t care. Bright beaming smiles was all the thanks I got for showing up to warn them about the coming zombie invasion.


    "How do I taste?"


    "Salty," she said. "You''d go well with a beer."


    I turned to James. "And what was that all about? Couldn''t you have done this to me before, back at the doctor''s office?"


    "Ahhh, @kittyboy," he rumbled. "This is phase two of your treatment. We needed the ARM to be fully synced first. She injected you with a medical stimulant. It will ease where the spikes dig into your bone marrow."


    I looked at my ARM. Yes, I could feel the dull ache subsiding.


    "It''s the cost of the ARM that you''ll have soreness that develops over time. You''ll want to take some regular pain killers for that, ignore it, or take something more targeted like what we just gave you. Look for Calcivive, if you can find it."


    I shook my head. "Maybe I''ll just blow myself up and start over."


    James chuckled again. "Trust me. Once you get used to the ARM, you won''t care about the pain." He held his huge arm up and rolled back the sleeve of his jacket, showing an enormous version of a similar ARM model. Then he rolled back the other sleeve to show a similar model on his other arm.


    "I''ll take your word for it," I sputtered, impressed.


    He nodded, the little smirk appearing at the corners of his mouth. Then he slapped me on the shoulder, and I nearly fell over.


    "You''ll do fine. Time for you to get out of here."


    I don''t hate goodbyes, but I''m still not good at them. I think for me they are badbyes or awkwardbyes. I turned first to the vampire and gave her the most I don''t know what to say to you kind of look that I could muster. She looked at me smugly, probably counting the seconds to make me feel more uncomfortable.


    "Good luck on your journey, Henry," the vampire finally said, extending her hand to shake mine.


    So she wasn''t lying. She did have manners.


    No one had called me Henry in centuries. The word hung in the air awkwardly, waiting for me to accept it. Henry, I thought to myself. Was I Henry? The philosophical implications of accepting a name from ages ago caused my head to spin, so I decided to reconcile that later and let my brain process it in the background for a while.


    I reached out and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."


    The vampire smiled and shrugged. "Melody."


    "Nice to meet you, Melody."


    "Bite you later," I added. I like to spoil pleasant moments.


    "Hmph. If you think you can bite me, you''ve got another thing coming."


    "I hope that other thing is a hug and a handshake," I jested with a snicker.


    Melody gave James a disappointed but curious look. "You were right. He''s odd but interesting." She waved, kind of, and stalked off confidently down the passage and out of sight.


    "If nothing else, she needs a cape," I said, when she had gone.


    James shook his head at me. "Contact me if you need anything." His voice echoed here at the wide tunnel exit, a nice effect that seemed intentional.


    "Please do the same. We don''t need any overtaken showing up here."


    "We will prepare," James replied.


    One last question was weighing on me. "Did Amy, the girl from the Cosmic Gutter, set me up? It seems oddly connected that I should happen to exit the ventilation system right where your bounty hunter was."


    If Amy had betrayed me again, I was definitely going to have to rob her store.


    "God works in mysterious ways," James responded.


    And, as I knew, here on Itokawa, James was god. Well, fuck me. I added Steal Something from the Cosmic Gutter back to my mission log, cursing the world but thankful all the same for my new connections.


    "See you later, Orange Man." I so wanted to call him the Great Pumpkin and run for my life.


    "Good luck, Eshu," James replied.


    The trickster god again. Misfortune or opportunity? I asked myself. Probably both.

 5.4 - Snake in a Box

    My box freighter was the Solar Express 1471 or SE1471, not to be confused with SE1470, SE1472, or any of the other Rubik''s Cube freighters spinning through the universe. Oh no! This was a special ship. I know the ship is special because the captain said so.


    "Welcome to Flipper!" the captain''s voice called out through the ship. "I''m your captain, @willisinspace, up here with my copilot, @doughouse. Welcome to the most special freighter in the solar system. Today we''re off to Eros, planet of love. I hope all you lovebirds onboard are ready for a lovely time." And then he laughed a wheezing laugh befitting someone who probably grew up on the dusty dark world of Itokawa.


    "All of you folks out there should do yourselves a favor and stick to level 12. As a reminder, we are not a transport vessel. The other levels are for parcels, elements, neurotic goods, large industrial equipment, and whatever else they shoved onboard, so please stick to your seat with your seatbelt fastened. Once we are safely underway, the large seatbelt sign in the center of the ceiling will turn off and you will be free to float about the cabin. Sorry folks, but we do not use rotational gravity.


    "You are welcome to try the very small bar and snack area on our cursed level 13 and take in the horrible artwork of our crew. Prints are available for purchase. Float on up the stairs at either end of the level 12 and hope for the best. Bathrooms are clearly marked in the center of each of the four walls in our little box. You will probably need them if you visit level 13. Ha ha ha! Good luck, spacers!"


    The captain''s fuzzy voice disappeared, and I pondered what to do during the flight. There wasn''t an entertainment system since this wasn''t a passenger ship. I could muck with my new ARM, but that would probably draw attention. Even though this was a cargo freighter, there were still somewhere between 100 and 150 people on the ship, this being a low-cost means of getting around the solar system.


    The captain''s voice returned right when I was about to start listening to some relaxing music, one of my Soothing Meditation Music for Cats playlists.


    "Our total flight time will be about two hours and seventeen minutes. We''ll try our best to avoid any asteroid turbulence, cosmic storms, pirates, or warships. If we do need you to return to your seats, the fasten seatbelt light will flash red. Now please sit back and enjoy the flight."


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    I realized right away that this would be a boring flight. At least I had Sango to keep me occupied. I put him in a little carrier they gave me after a minor fuss with one of the flight crew at the boarding area, and he was not happy about it.


    At first I thought my kitten was broken. I lifted up the carrier to stare at his tiny adorable face, and his mouth was hanging open, like in a scream, but no sound was coming out. I tried soothing him with pleasant sounds and gentle words, but he just stared at me with his mouth hanging open.


    In my head, he was screaming, WTF is this! Meow am trapped! Oh meow god I''m meowing to die!


    But he was overreacting. We weren''t going to die. Crash-land, yes. But we weren''t going to die.


    And then I died. I died for 0.4 seconds after my heart rate spiked. I spotted her out of the corner of my eye. @auroraloon was on the ship with me.


    I wasn''t imagining it, although I did flip my sensors across radar, UV, gamma, and back just to make sure. There was no mistaking it. That woman with the dark curly hair, short now and missing the highlights, wearing a violet and white flannel shirt was @auroraloon. The shirt gave her away only because I remembered her violet eyes. Her hair was different, but when she turned to respond to the person sitting next to her and I saw her face, I knew right away.


    She spotted me staring at her and looked at me for more than a moment. What she would have seen in that instant was me, observing her enthusiastically, holding a cat carrier up to my face, telling my kitty, "Look, Sango. That''s the woman I was telling you about. She''s fierce and beautiful, like you." Then she would have seen me pointing in her direction, realizing that the cat wouldn''t follow where I pointed, and then pretending to throw a toy toward her so that the cat would look that way.


    It was after I threw the fake toy that we made eye contact. I smiled like an idiot and waved at her with my fingertips. She was studying me, probably trying to determine how much of a threat I was to her personally and to whatever mission she was on. I didn''t know much about her, but I had to assume she was on some sort of mission. The @auroraloon that I knew was pretty vague about herself.


    When I had asked about her being reanimated, she had said, "It''s complicated. They may already have a new version of me out there actually."


    The current version of @auroraloon rolled her eyes at me and huffed, returning her attention to whatever she was holding in her hands. I assumed that meant she had decided I was not a threat. She was probably just annoyed because some dude with a cat on this freighter is checking me out. Boy was she wrong.


    Who was she to the Introverts? I asked myself.


    It was time to find out.

 5.5 - Level 13

    It didn''t take me long to figure out how to convince @auroraloon to meet me for a semi-private conversation. Getting the courage to walk up to her, however, was a completely different matter.


    Sango had to give me a good pep talk and reassure me that I was special by licking my nose, up until I was worried that I would smell like cat drool when I finally had a moment to be close to @auroraloon. I think Sango was sabotaging me to have me all to himself. I punished him by bringing him with me when I finally got the nerve to approach @auroraloon.


    The rows of seats were not magically organized. We were in a box, so the seats were in a perfect square. The ship fit 160 people and was divided into four quadrants, 40 seats per quadrant. Aisles were spaced between each set of five seats, and walkways to pass between the columns of chairs were inserted after every four rows. The sections were also color coded. I was in the blue section. My seat was Blue 131. So, for example, seats 121 through 160 were in my Blue section, and the color helped me start looking in the right place. @auroraloon was in Red 34, kind of diagonally in front of me.


    If I had known about her thing for Winnie-the-Pooh at this point, it would have been a perfect time to use a reference that she would have to know only someone who had met her would understand. But that happened after we ejected, after I had sent the signal with my memories from the starlab over to the Extrovert Starmada. I didn''t get the other memories back until later. If I had, then I would have gone up to her and done a Pooh impression, saying, "Excuse me. I mean. He-hem. Would you happen to have any honey?" And then smacked my lips.


    Instead, I went for the blunt and not so funny approach. I held up my cat to get her attention, leaned over the person in seat RED 35, and said, "Hey there. We need to talk."


    She eyed me annoyingly. "No, we don''t. I don''t know you."


    Oh, but I was prepared for that response. Thank you, futurecasting.


    "Tell that to our child!" I screamed, dramatically, lifting the cat toward her. Sango floated in the carrier, flipping upside down, trying to hold on to the mesh top with his claws. "Tell that to our child!"


    She unfastened her seatbelt, wide-eyed and irritated, and stood up angrily. Her boots were magnetized, keeping her grounded to the floor. She stalked over as I backed away, like she was going to beat me up.


    Ahh, remember that time she beat me up and left me there without a gun in the zombie infested lab? Good times.


    "He needs his Mama!" I yelped, as she grabbed me by the throat.


    "You''re making a scene," she growled. I stared at those violet eyes kind of not caring how much my throat hurt. The meds from the vampire were still helping my overall pain tolerance, I suspected.


    Most of the Flipper crew were elsewhere. We were just along for the ride, so we didn''t have in-flight service or anything like that. They just wanted us out of the way and quiet. But they did have two crew members down on Level 12 with us. One of them was stomping toward us way with a panicked look on their face. I wished I had been wearing magnetic boots like they were. My feet were off the ground, and if she wanted to, @auroraloon could have just flung me toward the ceiling. The other crew member was on their comm unit, looking equally panicked.


    I waived them off. "It''s fine," I squeaked.


    Everyone was staring at us. @auroraloon quickly released my throat, and I grabbed the chair of the person in front of the aisle seat to pull myself back down to the floor.


    "Everything is fine," I said loudly, cradling the cat carrier under my left arm with Sango, still upside down, now working on the zipper with his teeth. "I don''t do well in space. Something about being sucked into the vacuum of space with no breathable air while my blood boils just doesn''t appeal to me."


    By stupid luck, the medicine from the vampire was making me nauseous, and I vomited, sending little floating balls of puke up toward the ceiling. I was surprised I had anything in my stomach to even puke, but retching made me feel better, so I did it again.


    @auroraloon stood a few paces away, staring at me, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with irritated curiosity. The Flipper crew member was no longer panicked. People went from startled to disgusted and most returned to whatever they were doing to pass the boredom of being shipped in a cargo ship.


    "May I escort you to a bathroom, Sir?" the man said, searching his brown jumpsuit and finally pulling out what looked like a wad of napkins. "Crinkled but unused," he added, presenting them to me.


    I looked at the vomit floating away.


    "Don''t worry about that. Happens all the time. There''s an airflow system that will suck it up and into a particle reclamation unit."


    "Impressive," I said.


    "Flipper''s special. One of the only cargo ships that will take on passengers."


    "I''m fine." I dabbed my mouth with one of the napkins, thinking all the while that now I smelled like barf and kitty drool. I was off to a fine start at flirting with the girl who caught my fancy. "I just need something to eat, maybe a sip of water."


    "Ah, then our cursed Level 13 is the right spot, and it''s probably empty because the food is horrible, so you''ll have some privacy to recover."


    @auroraloon was about to sit down now that the things had settled down.


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    "Honey, can you come with me?" I asked her. "Maybe hold our cat for me in case I need to be sick again?"


    She was about to snap at me, but for whatever reason, she acquiesced. Maybe she was worried about me making another scene, or maybe she was just embarrassed and wanted to go someplace away from all the people, or maybe she wanted to know what the hell I was all about.


    I''m clever like that. I gave her many reasons to want to join me.


    She walked over to me with a fake smile. "Of course, honey."


    I gave her the cat carrier. Little Sango did one of his little cute I love you things by reaching toward her, his paw pressing up against the mesh lining, while he made lovey eyes at her and chirped. That made her smile for real, a smile that I had been hoping to see and welcomed. I was beaming foolishly, with just a bit of vomit stuck to the corner of my mouth.


    "Can you hold my hand so I don''t float away?" I asked in my most cute and adorable way.


    She rolled her eyes at me, but she took my left hand in hers with a firm grip, digging in one of her fingernails to inflict a little I hate you and you better explain yourself pain in my direction, and she started dragging me toward Level 13.


    "Can I have my cat back please?" I said, leaning against the sink on Level 13.


    She was playing with Sango between the liner of his carrier, wiggling her fingers, then hiding them, then popping them out and wiggling them again. Every time she did, Sango would reach out like he was trying to grab a toy. She stopped playing with him and glared at me.


    "No." She hugged the carrier against her checkered flannel with both arms around it in a protective, motherly way. "Who are you? What do you want?" The way she looked at me told me she was thinking about ways of disposing of a dead body. "And what''s the cat''s name?" she added.


    That''s the @auroraloon I knew. Violent but sweet.


    I started with the easy one. "His name is Sango." She looked at the carrier, fingers on the zipper. "Go for it. He can''t really run away in zero gravity, but watch your nose."


    She opened the carrier, and little baby Sango leapt out, propelling his tiny furry body up into the air. She wasn''t ready for it, but grabbed him before he floated out of her reach. He grabbed onto her hand, and as soon as he was close enough, he clung to her shirt and reached for her face. She looked down at him to rub her nose against his (big mistake), and he grabbed her jaw with one paw and proceeded to lick her nose over and over and over and over and over, while she giggled. Yes, she actually giggled.


    I waited, satisfied with myself. It was a good idea to get a cat. This would have gone much worse without a cute baby kitty to soothe the situation.


    "I know you," I finally said. She glared at me again with scrumpled eyes. "Just hear me out, and then you can kill me."


    "You have until Sango here stops licking my nose."


    Ha ha, I thought. She had no idea how long Sango could lick a person''s nose. I had at least five minutes, but he''s gone as long as thirty minutes nonstop, like he was in a trance.


    "Deal. You don''t know me because we died after escaping Starlab 41665.1. I''m @kittyboy. You''re @auroraloon. You had a snakeskin outfit that you said you picked up at Starlab 41665.1, although I''m not sure I believed you. I''m pretty sure the scientists at the lab used you for zombie virus experiments. The place was abandoned and overrun with overtaken. We fought them off together. Your hair was shaved and the wires into your brain were exposed."


    Her look of anger subsided. She listened intently.


    "We rode spacecycles out of the facility. I transmitted the memories of my team to the Extrovert Starmada. I was there with an Extrovert reconnaissance team. Our plan, meaning your plan and my plan, because we had formed an alliance ..." I paused. Alliance wasn''t the right word for it, but I wanted to be careful how I phrased it, and I was nervous.


    "Look. We had formed a bond, okay?" That was the best I could do. "Our plan was to stash your memories along with my new memories, and then blow ourselves up. That''s all I know. We died, obviously, or at least we probably died. I don''t know how we would have survived. We were being pursued by a valkyrie ship called the Eternis.


    "I was reanimated with the recovered the memories from the transmission. After I sent the signal, we were going to eject from the spacecycles, head to 1941 Wild, and hide our memories."


    She nodded along, but remained silent, absently stroking Sango, who had stopped licking her nose already and was curled up in her arms.


    "You have a memory gap," I stated. "Maybe you don''t know you have a memory gap, but that''s what happened."


    "We had formed a bond?" she asked, amused.


    I admit. I was not expecting that response. I wondered if my futurecasting was broken, or maybe she was just a new variable or an outlier.


    "I just told you all of that," I gesticulated with my arms, "and you''re wondering about our bond?"


    "Yes." Short and to the point. "I don''t believe you."


    My eyes must have popped out of my head. "So you believe all the stuff about the starlab and the zombies, but you don''t believe we had a bond?"


    She shrugged. "What kind of bond?"


    I blushed, struggling to come up with the words. I kind of like you. You kind of seemed to like me. I think we were crushing on each other. What do you say to someone with no memory of your first meeting?


    "The atomic kind," I sputtered. "Two molecules attract each other." I put my hands into fists and rotated the around each other.


    "Yeah, I don''t believe you," she blurted, toying with me.


    "Are you gaslighting me?"


    She raised her eyebrows. "I think you have an optimistic opinion of yourself, a crush on me, and some vomit on your face."


    I let my jaw hang open.


    "I still have vomit on my face?"


    "Yes," she laughed. "You do." Her laughter woke little Sango up, and he stretched in his adorable way.


    I observed her carefully. Subtle smile, dilated pupils overtaking some of the violet color to her eyes. Rate of breathing increased slightly despite a soothing kitten in her arms.


    I pointed at her a little too strongly. "You like me!"


    She slapped my finger away, shaking her head slightly. She pressed her lips together and looked away.


    "You do!" I repeated.


    @auroraloon focused her attention on Sango. "I don''t know you. How can I like you?"


    "I can show you," I said, holding out a qwire port. "I can share my memories." It was a bold move, I admit.


    "Fuck that. I''m not plugging that into me."


    I retreated back to the oddity of what had happened to us, again asking the question. "All of this was plausible? The lab, the snakeskin suit, the spacecycles, battling the overtaken? Everything I said? But you don''t believe that you liked me?"


    "That''s right. How do I know?"


    I was pretty flustered. Sore. Tired. Worried about my crew. Thankfully still feeling some lovely effects from the medicine to ease the pain of my lashing. I was too tired to come up with a rational argument. The evidence was there in her body language, unless she was intentionally messing with me.


    "Atomic bonds," I said confidently, "are hard to break."


    @auroraloon looked at me, then back at Sango, then back at me. I enjoyed the silence. I didn''t even mind the she was holding Sango. That, in and of itself, seemed to make perfect sense.


    "Did I beat you up?" she asked.


    I wasn''t expecting that question either, but I was relieved, my nerves finally letting me relax and drop my guard. "Yes, you most certainly did."


    She nodded, satisfied. "Okay then. I believe you."


    Yes! I had done it! I wanted to give her a big hug to celebrate, but she clearly had other things in mind.


    "What do you know about the snakeskin armor?" she asked, just as the first blast of an attacking ship struck our freighter and the alarms rang out, terrifying the shit out of our kitten.

 5.6 - Box Cutter

    Who puts napkins in the sink?


    If James saw this painting, I thought to myself, he''d probably kill whoever drew this atrocious thing. The pumpkins looked more like squished tomatoes, and the artist couldn''t stay within the lines when they colored it. A dark shadow of a figure was rising out of the pumpkin patch, and a silly looking oversized moon was in the upper corner, next to a flying bat with fangs.


    Melody.


    phbtt noises at her.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Don''t die, they said. And here I was spinning through space in a box while someone with a boxcutter tried to slash it open.


    Eros, the love asteroid, a place for affairs, honeymoons, eloping, and all flavors of romantic encounters.


    I''m on my way to Eros, with @auroraloon. I just wished the circumstances were different.


    roam about the cabin, and I can disable, hack, shoot, or zap our way through doors."


    not hit me in the face when I pulled it back in, but I checked the user manual again just to make sure I didn''t miss any hidden features.


    So that''s where it is, I thought, wondering exactly what it could do to me as I made impact and held onto my balls for dear life.