Perilous Waif (Alice Long #1)

“Mistress Alice? The security bots at the fabricator bay say I’m not authorized to go in. What should I do?”

I sighed. Of course they wouldn’t let Emla in there. She wasn’t part of the crew, and with intruders on board I was lucky security hadn’t assumed she was hostile.

“I’m on my way, Emla,” I told her. “Tell the bots there’s a crew member coming to resolve the situation, and do whatever they tell you until I get there. Alright?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll just wait right here.”

Ash jumped to my shoulder as I turned to my cabin door, and Smoke darted out into the corridor ahead of me. They were in full bodyguard mode, sweeping their suspicious gazes over every nook and cranny of the empty hall looking for waiting assassins. Normally I would have dismissed their behavior as silly, but right now I was glad of the extra eyes. I had better senses than they did, but if I got distracted they’d still be keeping watch.

As I sprinted for the aft fabricator bay I reflected that space battles seemed to involve a lot more running than I would have expected. Good thing I was the athletic type, or these hundred-meter dashes would be a real problem.

I commed Mina. “Reporting for duty, ma’am. What can I do?”

“Alice? Oh, did Naoko send you to help out?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m almost to the aft fabricator bay.”

“Why the heck would you go there? Parts fabrication is all automated on the Square Deal, you know that.”

“Ah, because Naoko told me to go there? I assumed she must know something I didn’t.”

Mina gave an aggravated growl. “Ugh, that woman! No, she’s just being overprotective. The fabricator bays are about as deep inside the ship as you can get. The bridge and engineering control are probably the only safer places to be right now.”

Naoko was just trying to get me out of the way? Now I was mad.

“I see. Well, I’m not a helpless little civilian who needs to go hide somewhere, ma’am. How can I help?”

She chuckled. “Do you have any idea how weird it is to hear a human call me that? This isn’t a military ship, Alice, so just call me Mina. Here, I’m giving you access to the damage control workspace. Chief Benson is keeping the repair queue prioritized, and the AI should be decent at filtering out the jobs you’re not rated for. But we don’t use that feature much, so don’t be shy about skipping things you’re not sure you can do.”

I followed the link she’d sent me, and found myself looking at a much more detailed display of the ship’s status. There was a lot of information about repairs needed, work in progress, parts fabrication and delivery status, all kinds of stuff. I had no idea damage control was so complicated. But the work queue was easy enough to find. I logged in, and looked over the list of jobs the engineering AI suggested for me.

“Alright, I’ll get started on this,” I confirmed.

“Great. Don’t be afraid to requisition repair bots to help you. That’s what they’re for, and the requisition queue is prioritized so you’re not going to accidentally slow someone else down. Oh, and is that your little minion at the fabricator station?”

“Emla? Sort of. She’s a rescued slave Dusty was smuggling to some Underground Railroad colony. I had her helping me with some work when the alarms went off, and she offered to help out.”

“Well, unless you’re going to claim her you’ll have to keep her with you until this is over. She’s probably for real, but we can’t have any unidentified people wandering around when we’ve already got infiltrators on the ship. She’ll end up getting shot for sure.”

“Understood. Sorry, Mina, I should have thought of that.”

“It’s alright, Alice.”

“Mina? How can you be so calm?”

The ship lurched as the big mass drivers fired another volley.

“What, are you worried? We’ll be fine, Alice. Trust me, we’ve been in much worse scrapes than this one. Just don’t go near the fusion reactors, and make sure any repairs within twenty meters of the hull are done by remote control. Got it?”

“Got it!”

“Good girl. See you at the victory party.”

She closed the connection just as I arrived at the fabricator bay. The big hatch was open, and a team of labor bots were carefully levitating a big emitter module through. A pair of humanoid security bots stood just inside the room, with their capture foam guns trained on Emla. The mouse girl was standing stock still with her hands in the air, but she seemed more amused than worried.

“Hello, Miss Long,” one of the bots said. “Can you confirm this android’s identity?”

I actually checked her ID code, just to be safe.

“Yes, this is Emla. She’s with me.”

“She is not listed with the ship’s crew, Miss Long. Unauthorized passengers are defined as stowaways, and must be secured pending an interview with the captain.”

This was getting really frustrating. “Mina said she’d be fine as long as she’s with me.”

“Senior Tech Mina is not authorized to clear stowaways for shipboard activity. I’m afraid I have to lock her up unless you can provide an alternative, Miss Long.”

I frowned up at the armored bot. “You’re awfully smart for a security bot. Why are you looking for a reason not to put her in the brig?”

“Chief West only buys the best, Miss Long. I’m concerned because the brig is too close to the hull to be safe in the current situation, and preserving civilian lives is one of my secondary directives.”

“Please don’t lock me in a room that’s going to get blown up,” Emla pleaded, suddenly concerned. “I’m sorry, Mistress Alice. I thought I could be useful but I’m only causing trouble. Maybe you should just deactivate me?”

“That would work,” the bot agreed.

An unfamiliar vibration went through the deck. I glanced back at the damage control display, and had to suppress the urge to swear. Chief West’s warbots were in the middle of a firefight with those infiltrators just four decks down, and some of the things were bomb bots. There were other groups of them spreading out across the lower decks, too. Trying to avoid our warbots, and do whatever damage they could to the systems they could reach.

“I’m not going to leave you helpless in a corner somewhere with all this going on,” I told Emla. “Look, you said you wanted to imprint on me. That doesn’t have to be permanent, right?”

She gasped. “Yes, please! You’re right, Alice, it doesn’t have to be permanent. You could sell me or give me up later if I’m not useful to you. But I’ll warn you, you’re the best mistress I could ever dream of. I’m sure I’ll do my very best to convince you to keep me.”

Why did it make me feel so funny to hear that?

I pushed the confused ball of emotions away, and checked the ship’s regulations. Yes, this would work. I gave Emla a firm nod.

E. William Brown's books