Sidra looked around the shuttle. The interior was clean, sterile, yet the air was thick with echoes of the life that had been lived there. ‘This was Pepper’s home,’ she said.
Tak exhaled. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘It gives me the creeps, too.’
That wasn’t it at all, but Sidra didn’t know how to explain what she felt. This was the first thing that worried her about the plan. Pepper hated talking about that ship. It came up rarely, and never in a way that could be misconstrued as casual. Sidra walking in there without the company of its former occupant felt like a violation. She was entering a space Pepper never left unlocked. It felt like digging through Pepper’s personal files, stripping her of her clothing, barging into the bedroom she shared with Blue. ‘Come on,’ Sidra said, adjusting her satchel. The tools and cabling she’d borrowed clanked within. ‘They’ve waited long enough.’
She made her way to the core chamber, down in the belly of the ship. Tak connected the power supply as directed. Sidra jacked a cable into her head, then the other end into the core.
This was the second thing that worried her about the plan.
She kept part of herself in her body, doing her best to keep her face blank so as not to worry Tak further. The rest of her flowed through the cable, sifting through files that hadn’t been touched in a decade. The power supply hummed next to her, providing a calculatedly limited amount of energy. She wanted to be able to see what was in the memory banks, but she didn’t want anything to wake up. Not now, anyway. Not without her permission.
Tak sat across from her, anxious red blotching her previously still cheeks. Sidra smirked. ‘You look like a parent waiting for a newborn to start breathing.’
The Aeluon’s face was incredulous. ‘How would you know what that looks like?’
‘I’ve watched every vid you’ve ever recommended,’ Sidra said. ‘Trust me, the worried father is a common theme in all your media.’
Tak snorted. ‘I’m not sure even fathers get this stressed,’ she said. Her mouth twitched. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?’
‘I promise, I will tell you if – oh.’ She leaned forward. ‘Oh.’
Tak sat up straight. ‘You okay?’
Sidra focused on the part of herself swimming through the shuttle’s files. Yes, yes, there it was – an unmistakable bundle of code, wrapped in on itself, long dormant. There was a sizable chunk of associated memory files, too, which had been compressed with efficient but sloppy haste, like someone shoving contraband under a bed. Sidra’s joy of discovery quickly gave way to cold caution. The code was not malicious, not by base. It was innocent, but then, so was a snake, asleep in its burrow. You might have an excellent reason for needing to get the snake out of there, but the snake wouldn’t know that. The snake would know only terror and confusion, and it would react as anyone would: drive the threat away, then look for a safer home.
The kit’s synaptic framework was a very safe home, so long as you kicked the original occupant out. A snake’s instinct was to bite; a program’s instinct was to take root. Sidra knew that better than anyone. She looked at the compressed memories and remembered a different set – the one that had lain before her when she’d awoken in the Wayfarer. She’d seen only ravaged fragments then, records that belonged to someone else. Instinct had told her to scrub them clean.
She looked at the code again. She wondered what instincts were written there.
‘Tak,’ she said. ‘I need your scrib.’
‘My scrib?’
‘Yes. Hurry, please.’
Tak did as told. Sidra took a deep, deep breath. She shut her eyes tight. It’ll be okay, she told herself, fighting to keep her hands from shaking. It’ll be okay.
She measured the bundle, then pulled back, keeping a careful distance away. In the same moment, she created a new text file within herself, then opened her non-core memory storage. Her pathways recoiled with reluctance, but she pushed on. She scanned the first file – Midnight in Florence, a mystery vid series she enjoyed. She copied the title into the new file and made a note: You really like this one.
And with that, she deleted the vid.
She continued on. Whispers: A 6-Part History of Sianat Culture. Not bad, but a bit ponderous. Scanned, logged, deleted. Battle Wizards: The Vid! You watched this with Blue the night Pepper went to bed early because she ate too many sweet cream pops. It’s terrible, but you both had fun. Scanned, logged, deleted.
Six minutes later, everything but her experiential memory files had been scrubbed. Everything non-essential she’d ever downloaded was gone.
She swiped her wrist over Tak’s scrib, copying the text file she’d created. ‘Just to be safe,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to lose record of it. I’m going to get it all back when we get home.’
Tak took the scrib, looked at the file. ‘How do you feel?’ she asked.