The other good thing about my hacked governor module is that I could ignore the governor’s instructions to defend the stupid company. “They’re supposed to be able to, but equipment failures aren’t unknown.”
There was a moment where they all thought about potential equipment failures in their habitat, maybe including the big hopper which they were about to fly out of range of the little hopper, so if something happened to it they were walking back. And swimming back, since that was an ocean-sized body of water between the two points on the map. Or drown; I guess they could just drown. If you were wondering why I was wincing earlier, this would be the reason.
The trip to the map’s black-out region had been a little out of our assessment parameters, but this was going to be an overnight trip, even if all they did was get there, see a bunch of dead people, turn around and go back.
Then Gurathin said, “What about your systems?”
I didn’t turn my helmet toward him because that can be intimidating and it’s especially important for me to resist that urge. “I carefully monitor my own systems.” What else did he think I was going to say? It didn’t matter; I’m not refundable.
Volescu cleared his throat. “So we should prepare for a rescue mission.” He looked okay, but MedSystem’s feed was still reporting some indicators of distress. Bharadwaj was stable but not allowed to get out of Medical yet. He continued, “I’ve pulled some instructions from the hopper’s info package.”
Yes, instructions. They’re academics, surveyors, researchers, not action-hero explorers from the serials I liked because they were unrealistic and not depressing and sordid like reality. I said, “Dr. Mensah, I think I should go along.”
I could see her notes in the feed so I knew she meant for me to stay here and watch the habitat and guard everybody who wasn’t going. She was taking Pin-Lee, because she had past experience in habitat and shelter construction; Ratthi, who was a biologist; and Overse, who was certified as a field medic.
Mensah hesitated, thinking about it, and I could tell she was debating protecting the habitat and the group staying behind with the possibility of whatever had hit DeltFall still being there. She took a breath and I knew she was going to tell me to stay here. And I just thought, That’s a bad idea. I couldn’t explain to myself why. It was one of those impulses that comes from my organic parts that the governor is supposed to squash. I said, “As the only one here with experience in these situations, I’m your best resource.”
Gurathin said, “What situations?”
Ratthi gave him a bemused look. “This situation. The unknown. Strange threats. Monsters exploding out of the ground.”
I was glad I wasn’t the only one who thought it was a dumb question. Gurathin wasn’t as talkative as the others, so I didn’t have much of a sense of his personality. He was the only augmented human in the group, so maybe he felt like an outsider, or something, even though the others clearly liked him. I clarified, “Situations where personnel might be injured due to attack by planetary hazards.”
Arada came in on my side. “I agree. I think you should take SecUnit. You don’t know what’s out there.”
Mensah was still undecided. “Depending on what we find, we may be gone as long as two or three days.”
Arada waved a hand, indicating the habitat. “Nothing’s bothered us here so far.”
That was probably what DeltFall had thought, right before they got eaten or torn to pieces or whatever. But Volescu said, “I admit it would make me feel better about it.” From Medical, Bharadwaj tapped into the feed to add her vote for me. Gurathin was the only one staying behind who didn’t say anything.
Mensah nodded firmly. “All right then, it’s decided. Now let’s get moving.”
*
So I prepped the big hopper to go to the other side of the planet. (And yes, I had to pull up the instructions.) I checked it over as much as I could, remembering how the autopilot had cut out suddenly in the little hopper. But we hadn’t used the big hopper since Mensah had taken it up to check it out when we arrived. (You had to check everything out and log any problems immediately when you took delivery or the company wasn’t liable.) But everything looked okay, or at least matched what the specs said it was supposed to match. It was only there for emergencies and if this thing with DeltFall hadn’t happened, we would probably never have touched it until it was time to lift it onto our pickup transport.
Mensah came to do her own check of the hopper, and told me to pack some extra emergency supplies for the DeltFall staff. I did it, and I hoped for the humans’ sake we would need them. I thought it was likely that the only supplies we would need for DeltFall was the postmortem kind, but you may have noticed that when I do manage to care, I’m a pessimist.
When everything was ready, Overse, Ratthi, and Pin-Lee climbed in, and I stood hopefully by the cargo pod. Mensah pointed at the cabin. I winced behind my opaque faceplate and climbed in.
Chapter Four
WE FLEW THROUGH THE NIGHT, the humans taking scans and discussing the new terrain past our assessment range. It was especially interesting for them to see what was there, now that we knew our map wasn’t exactly reliable.
Mensah gave everybody watch shifts, including me. This was new, but not unwelcome, as it meant I had blocks of time where I wasn’t supposed to be paying attention and didn’t have to fake it. Mensah, Pin-Lee, and Overse were all taking turns as pilot and copilot, so I didn’t have to worry so much about the autopilot trying to kill us, and I could go on standby and watch my stored supply of serials.
We’d been in the air awhile, and Mensah was piloting with Pin-Lee in the copilot’s seat, when Ratthi turned in his seat to face me and said, “We heard—we were given to understand, that Imitative Human Bot Units are . . . partially constructed from cloned material.”
Warily, I stopped the show I was watching. I didn’t like where this might go. All of that information is in the common knowledge database, plus in the brochure the company provides with the specifics of the types of units they use. Which he knew, being a scientist and whatever. And he wasn’t the kind of human who asked about things when he could look them up himself through a feed. “That’s true,” I said, very careful to make my voice sound just as neutral as always.
Ratthi’s expression was troubled. “But surely . . . It’s clear you have feelings—”
I flinched. I couldn’t help it.
Overse had been working in the feed, analyzing data from the assessments. She looked up, frowning. “Ratthi, what are you doing?”
Ratthi shifted guiltily. “I know Mensah asked us not to, but—” He waved a hand. “You saw it.”
Overse pulled her interface off. “You’re upsetting it,” she said, teeth gritted.
“That’s my point!” He gestured in frustration. “The practice is disgusting, it’s horrible, it’s slavery. This is no more a machine than Gurathin is—”