* * *
“I remember the last time I was here,” Ocampo said.
He was standing on the bridge of the Chandler. With him were Vera Briggs and an escort of two Rraey soldiers.
I imagine it looks a little different now, I thought to him. A bit emptier.
Ocampo visibly winced at this; I could see it happen through one of the bridge cameras. Vera Briggs was silent and staring, in a horrified fashion, at the box containing my brain. The Rraey, for their part, were unreadable to me. That’s the thing about aliens, I suppose.
Thank you for coming to see me, I thought, to both Ocampo and Briggs. I really appreciate it.
“You’re welcome,” Ocampo said. “To be honest it’s nice to be off that rock—”
One of the Rraey made a throat-clearing sound here, suggesting some nonverbal cues were universal; that is, if you have a throat.
“—it’s nice to have a change of scenery, I should say.” Ocampo fairly glared at the Rraey.
I don’t want to take up too much of your time, I thought. I know the two of you are busy. Also, Control told me that I had ten minutes with you.
“Right,” Ocampo said. “And in fact we should probably start on our way back. They were annoyed with us enough when I insisted we say good-bye.”
I understand, I replied. And I think I need to get started anyway.
From outside the bridge came a loud clanging noise, followed by what sounded like voices. It might have been the Chandler’s intercom speakers acting up. Or it could have been something else.
Both Ocampo and Briggs jumped. The two Rraey said something to each other in their own language and hoisted their weapons. One of them held a hand out to Ocampo and Briggs, signaling that they were to stay on the bridge. The Rraey then exited the bridge to investigate.
The automatic, reinforced door to the bridge slammed shut, sealing Ocampo and Briggs in and the Rraey out.
“What the hell?” Ocampo asked.
There was a low thrumming sound as the Chandler’s engines ramped up from their resting phase to propulsion phase.
“What are you doing?” Ocampo asked me.
I’m not doing anything, I replied. I don’t have control over the ship yet.
There was a banging on the bridge door. The Rraey were trying to get back in.
“Open the door,” Ocampo said to me.
I don’t have control of the door.
“Who does?”
Whoever it is that has been running my simulations. I don’t know who they are. They just told me to call them Control.
Ocampo swore and pulled out his PDA. Then he swore again when he couldn’t open up a line back to base. When the PDA got to the Chandler, it automatically connected to the ship’s network. The Chandler’s network gave every appearance of being down.
Ocampo looked around at the bridge stations. “Which of these is for communications?”
None of them are right now, I thought at him. The bridge stations are cut out of the command loop. Everything gets routed through a simulated bridge which I’m supposed to control.
“So you are in control of this ship!”
No, I said “supposed to,” I pointed out. I’m not in control of the ship yet. I only get control once the ship has skipped. It’s Control who is behind this.
“Then talk to Control!” Ocampo yelled.
I can’t. I’ve never been given the ability to contact them. I have to wait for them to contact me.
And lo and behold, guess who suddenly came onto the line.
“The Chandler is moving,” Control said. “Explain how.”
I don’t know, I thought. You’re the one in control of this ship. You tell me.
“I’m not in control of the ship.”
Well, someone is.
“It has to be you.”
How can that be? I exclaimed. Check it yourself! I’m not doing a damn thing in the simulation!
There was a brief pause here as Control ascertained that, indeed, inside the simulation I was doing nothing. While this was happening the banging at the bridge door became more insistent and it sounded like fists were being replaced by weapon butts.
Then Control’s voice came over the bridge speakers. “Secretary Ocampo,” it said.
“Yes?”
“You are controlling the Chandler in some way.”
“The hell I am,” Ocampo said.
“You’ve sequestered yourself in the bridge,” Control said.
“We’re locked in here, you asshole,” Ocampo said. “And I can’t help but notice that my Rraey escort is on the other side of the door. What are you up to?”
“Please cease your actions.”
“I am not doing a goddamned thing!” Ocampo yelled. He motioned to the bridge stations. “These fucking things don’t work! It’s you who is doing this!”
There was a pause; Ocampo looked confused. It took him maybe a second or two longer to realize that the hammering on the door had stopped while he was yelling at Control.