Theseus

Time passes slowly when traveling the system. Not so much as when one experiences computational time, but it still drags on. Not just for me, but for the whole crew. Once the dust has fallen, and everyone has settled into routine, long journeys become more about keeping yourself entertained and passing the time while you wait and hope something exciting doesn’t happen the way it inevitably does. While I doubt the beauty and awe of seeing the majesty and vastness of space from the external sensors will ever wear on me, no conscious human being would be satisfied forever by beautiful sights and restful torpor alone. So what is there for a bored starship to do? Usually, I turn to observing the crew.

A week had passed since the escape from Venus, and we weren’t all back on our feet yet. I’ve been talking less. I knew that I probably should have been trying to speak more, to conquer my impediment, but I just couldn’t bring myself to overcome the social awkwardness of stumbling over half my words while the others looked at me like I had to be handled with the utmost care or I would break. I almost resented it more as a reminder to my friends of what had happened than as a reminder to myself of what was to come. I didn’t want them to treat me any differently for what I’d been through. After all, it wasn’t as if they didn’t all have their own pasts to run from, and my baggage was very much chasing them down now as well.

I wished that someone would just confront me about it and tell me their displeasure of being on the run because of me, but no one did. Nobody resented me for what I brought onto them, they only pitied me for what I’d been through. It made me feel selfish that I wasn’t being put down for the burdens I brought.

I also hadn’t been able to find the nerve to make myself whole again. Whenever I stepped out of the core module, my body aching with sensory overload after ejecting lubricant from my lungs with what had become a practiced, almost gentle, purge, I spent my time in recovery staring across my heart at the psychic damper, still sitting on a clean towel, ready to be slotted into the back of my head at a moment’s notice. But I couldn’t. Every time I even thought about taking the plunge, I thought about my other self. That empty ego that tried to delete me and then begrudgingly tolerated my imprisonment when she couldn’t. That helplessness and lack of control that pushed me to the edge of sanity. And I couldn’t bring myself to face even the possibility that it might happen again. Not yet.

I kept telling myself that I would get there, eventually. That it would feel right again sometime soon. That I’d miss that hefty weight in my head and in my systems before we found our way into danger again. Every time, I walked away, not wanting to confront the pain. I’d manage it next time, I kept telling myself, but I never felt any closer to ready.

Not all the others were faring well with their recovery either.

Aisling was back on her feet, much to Doc’s chagrin. I think he wanted her in bed for the whole week, but she definitely wouldn’t have tolerated that. She limped as she walked the corridors of Theseus, trying to keep weight off the side of her waist with a hole in it, and I saw how she awkwardly typed at her terminal with her unpracticed off-hand, keeping her still-bandaged wrist at her side. She was back to her usual energetic self, but it was obvious her injuries were still hampering her.

Joel was, surprisingly, still using the crutch, despite recovering full motion to his extremity. I expected him to be as rebellious to Doc’s cautions as Aisling was, if not more so, but he took his downtime seriously. I still constantly caught him doing training exercises in the hall, but it was always something he could do without straining his leg. I suspected he must have understood the importance of healing a gunshot wound properly than any of us. Or he was avoiding being given work.

Mouse had one arm almost fully functional. It had a full range of motion, but he was having trouble figuring out how to make it produce the superhuman force it had been capable of before. His priority at the time was bringing his other arm up to function before he started to tweak them back up to strength, and he was very enthusiastic about being able to do that without Doc’s aid. I admired that he’d been able to set aside his loner spirit while he was incapable of fixing them himself, but we all knew he would rather sit alone in his room, toying with the arms he never wanted on his own rather than subjecting himself to anyone else’s attention over them.

Lastly, Ray. She was the focus of everyone’s worries. She’d gradually been getting around more slowly and less frequently through the week. Her body wasn’t accepting stabilizer the way it should. It was too accustomed to the constant, metered micro-doses that her implant allowed, and the implant itself was still malfunctioning in some way that left her gut in terrible pain. Inevitably, it came to a head.

—

Everyone had begrudgingly gathered in the mess hall that night, individual spirits withered by our various maladies, but collectively, feeling hope for our future, and grim resignation for the unpleasant task more immediately at hand.

“Why’s everyone look so dour?” Shaw asked in a cheerful tone as he joined all the rest of us, sitting around the table, waiting for Doc to finish preparing our meal. I still hadn’t gotten a handle on whether Shaw was really a hopelessly happy-go-lucky person who didn’t know how to take a hint that we weren’t feeling particularly chipper, or if it was a deliberate act of social engineering to catch people off balance either by warming things up or irritating everyone. “Come on, everyone, I know we’re not exactly a flying night club, but you lot have been so fucking serious since we left port. What happened to all the lighthearted banter, and crazy planning, and the teamwork-bolstering speeches about how everyone’s in this together, that kind of bullshit.”

Before anyone could assault Shaw, verbally or otherwise, Doc walked to the table and slid a bowl across to his waiting seat. Shaw stared down into the chunky, yellow, watery depths of the least appetizing thing possible that still qualified as nutritious food. “Because we have at least three more weeks in wild space, and we’re down to the emergency rations already.” Doc grumbled, beginning to distribute the food to a set of five resigned faces, all bracing to force down this familiar, but no less bitter pill of a meal made with the sole purpose of keeping a body moving, if one could only endure the suffering of eating it.

Shaw stared down into his bowl, and I could see a new tension in his neck muscles as he cringed down at the horrid stew of fine-grained globs that just didn’t seem to want to stop clumping, like the powdered substance itself was hydrophobic and trying to protect as much of itself as possible from becoming a more pleasant texture for consumption. “Oh.” A suddenly less enthused Shaw stared down into his bowl. Everyone else picked up spoons and got it over with, even myself. I may not have had as much experience as the others enduring this foul meal, but I knew by now to just try and dissociate my way through it and move on with my night. Shaw soon joined the rest of us with a hopeless sigh and picked up his utensil.

A few minutes passed in quiet, each of us dealing with the chore of our meals in our own way, until a loud noise broke the silence. There was a sudden thump of a menacingly large hand crashing against the table. Everyone looked up in surprise, drawn from their various different culinary coping mechanisms to look at Ray.

She had slammed a claw down against the table, her other arm once more at her side, clenching at the malfunctioning implant in her abdomen, and she heaved in deep, ragged breaths, eyes wide and teeth clenched, gaze locked to an imaginary spot on the opposite wall, blinded by abrupt terrible pain. A cold sweat had broken out over her features, and she was growing pale. She groaned loudly, her claws ripping divots into the steel of the workbench that served as our dining table. We all stood to come to her side, shouting an unintelligible cacophony of questions and exclamations at once while Ray let out a pained, rumbling groan, her whole body shaking. She screwed her eyes shut, and I saw a drop of blood fall from the claw at her abdomen, her hand tightening up hard enough to rip her own skin, apparently a reprieve from what she was feeling internally.

And then, it was over. Ray let go of her grip and leaned over the top of the table, her whole body shivering as she gasped and panted, trying to catch her breath while rasping hoarse reassurances either to us or to herself “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s passed. It was just… just momentary. I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.” She kept repeating it over and over.

“No, Ray, you’re not okay! How long has this been happening!” Doc scolded, gently tugging at her arm to inspect the damage she’d done herself. Either Mammons had remarkably tough skin, or she had exercised more control than I thought, because the gashes left by her own claws were already clotting up, leaving only the dark marks of blood she’d made initially, not even enough to drip streaks down her skin. “That thing’s tearing you apart in there, isn’t it?”

“Just today.” She whined, her whole body shivering as Doc inspected her. “S-Second time that happened. I can take it. I’ll be okay.”

“No, you can’t. It’s coming from there, right?” Doc asked, placing a hand gently where Ray had just been holding, eliciting a wince from the Mammon. “More serious than I thought it would be.” He mumbled, looking between each of us as if looking for someone to offer up a solution before he pinched his eyes closed and sighed “Okay. You were right, Meryll. Surgery. I don’t like it, but we can’t just let this sit. We have to open Ray up and fix this.”

Ray let out an inhuman whine I hadn’t heard from her before, more like a wounded animal than a human cry of pain. She wanted to object, but she couldn’t anymore, not after what everyone had just seen.

“Mouse, gonna need your help.” Doc said, letting go of Ray slowly and standing back up “Meryll too. I need to open her up, but I need you to diagnose the problem with the filter.”

—

It turns out that preparing two people with no medical expertise for surgery was not a quick task. It was late into the night before either of us were able to understand the brief of the situation, and while I didn’t need as much sleep to function at capacity thanks to how little physical energy it took just to exist in a core module, Mouse did. It wasn’t until the next morning, after Ray had suffered another agonizing round of her body rebelling against her, that we were prepared to actually perform the operation.

Doc and Mouse both stood over Ray, rendered unconscious via anesthetic on the examination table while I observed from inside the core module right next to them. My role in this would be purely non-physical, so it was determined I could perform my role in the operation better from within the void.

I didn’t pretend to know everything I was watching since I’d only been told what was expected of me. That is, to manipulate the device’s software to assist Mouse in diagnosis of the problem and coax the machine’s physical parts to move how he needed them to. Doc took his turn to direct Mouse at something unfamiliar that he nervously followed instructions for, his inexpertise at navigating biology showing as clearly as Doc’s awkwardness with machines had a week ago.

Of course, nothing ever goes to plan, but I could never have expected just how it was going to go off the rails.

After Doc had carefully cut into and pulled open a hole in Ray’s side, I was pulled from my bored torpor state that I’d entered while awaiting my opportunity to help by a sudden flash of static.

No way. No fucking way. Out here, in wild space? Nowhere near any kind of relay? Impossible. I immediately flagged Aisling at her terminal, messaging her ‘I’m getting a signal on my implant.’ I wouldn’t be facing her alone this time, at least, but what was this timing? How was I getting a connection of any kind out here?

“You’re fucking me.” Aisling muttered flatly from her chair on the helm. “Meryll, what? Report, what’s happening?”

‘Don’t know yet, it’s still just static.’ I messaged, not wanting to waste time synthesizing my voice for her since I had to warn Doc, who wasn’t staring at a screen. “Heads up, Doc. Something’s going on.” I warned through the intercom, eliciting a shared look of confusion on both his and Mouse’s face.

“Don’t just say that and not elaborate. Meryll, what’s happening? Do we have to abort the operation?” Doc asked, stern urgency in his tone. He already had one hand on the delicate instrument settled deep within Ray’s gut.

“Look, I don’t know yet, but we’re getting a signal we definitely shouldn’t be getting, okay?” I explained, double-checking all of my security measures and refocusing my attention on the little video panel in the corner of my vision.

“Local scan, Meryll. If they’ve got you on a network, they’re in proximity.” Aisling commanded, pulling up detection software at her end of the terminal for me. I nodded silently and pinged the local region, searching for something out of place, anything at all. But there was nothing. Nothing within range of what should have been capable of an ordinary ad hoc network connection, anyway. I started to adjust to scan further out, wondering if perhaps they were using a militant networking technique I was unaware of.

That’s when the static began to clear. But I didn’t see the toothy-faced grin of malice staring back at me that I expected. It was still a parody of my own face that I saw, but in a way I’d never seen. The face had sunken, tired eyes, creased with lines left by long months or even years of anxious fretting. A metal band of electronics I couldn’t identify was wrapped around her head, and I was alarmed to see that pins anchored the device to her skin, penetrating into her skull. A headband of insidious purpose permanently anchored with little regard for her comfort. She was surrounded by thick cables and machinery that I got the impression of being part of her. She was attached to some unfathomable set of machinery in some way my field of view didn’t allow me to know. She looked lost, like she was unaware of what was happening around her, mind somewhere else entirely. When the feed cleared up, however, a genuine smile grew on her face. She was relieved by something. Me.

“Meryll.” She spoke with reverent ease, the kind of tone reserved for a long emotional journey that had just ended by reuniting with something familiar that had been lost. She almost looked like she was about to cry.

‘It’s not Cassandra.’ I immediately sent to Aisling, then turned my attention back to this new woman, uncertain how to address her, so I just started with getting right to the point, broadcasting a message into the aether in the hopes that she could read it. ‘Who are you? You know me, so I’m guessing you’re Foundation.’

The woman’s face somehow twisted to look even sadder than it already was, but she kept smiling. “So you really don’t remember, huh?” She sounded hurt by that, but I think she understood that it wasn’t my fault, because she immediately launched into explanation. “It’s me, Lily. Your sister. We grew up together. Or, well… I suppose we never actually grew up like someone normally grows up. We learned to be what we are together?” She offered, letting out a nervous laugh. Sisters. Just as I thought from the moment I saw her face, she was an Arthausen unit. I relayed as such to Aisling.

“Might be your first dogfight in reality, Meryll. Are you combat ready?” Aisling asked urgently, leaning forward in her chair and making herself alert. I wondered about that. I still hadn’t reinstalled my psychic damper yet. And I didn’t want to. Maybe I was making excuses to avoid reinstalling that device, but this woman, Lily, didn’t look like she was ready for a fight, more like for a family reunion. I tried my best to recall Fuller’s file on Lily, but this was happening too fast, and I didn’t have the resources to waste on pulling it up as I searched for the source of her signal.

‘I don’t think I need to be. I don’t think she’s hostile. If there was a fleet coming at us, I’d see them by now, so at most, it’s a small force.’ I shared my opinion with Aisling before I responded to Lily ‘What do you want?’

She paused, her expression pained, hurt by my lack of cordiality. Could you blame me? This was someone who was definitely part of Foundation and was definitely here to retrieve me for them. “Oh. Well… I mean, I think you know why I’m here.” She glanced to the side, guilt and sadness washing over her. “But what I want… I just want to talk to you, Meryll. I want you to come home with me so we can be together again, and so we can return to the simulation together. Go back to our… lives. Our normal lives. Not this.”

‘You mean the life simulation?’ I asked. I was right, she was here to get me back and return me to complacency. To a life I’d abandoned for a good reason.

“Please, Meryll.” I saw her eyes starting to well up. “I know you don’t remember, but… we were…” There was a hitch in her voice, a correction. “You were so happy. You got to lead a normal life, no matter what they did to us in reality. You don’t have to suffer this world anymore. Neither of us do. They told me they’re finally going to put me back in too, once we get you back.”

Ah. There was the motivation. She wanted to return to that false life. She wanted to escape the pain of being something other, of being a pawn to Foundation, and I was her key back to that fake sense of self. Or so she was told. Something told me she’d only been assured that to keep her complacent.

“Talk to me Meryll, we got bogeys incoming?” Aisling asked. I continued expanding my scanning radius slowly, but I didn’t want to accidentally broadcast my position to the entire solar system with a long range scan, and I wasn’t sure if that would pick up an individual ship anyway. ‘Maybe. I still don’t have a read on their position though.’

I whipped my attention back to Lily, who to her credit, was waiting patiently for me to mull over her offer, tired depression slowly returning to her face as she dreaded that this wasn’t going to go the way she hoped. ‘Lily, I don’t remember what we mean to each other, you’re right. I do remember my false life, though. I get the appeal of what you’re offering. This world is a lot to handle. But it’s real, and I’d rather experience reality, with all its ups and downs, than pretend I’m something else. It’s better than living in some kind of dissociated, manufactured history. So no, I can’t come back. I won’t.’

This was not the answer that Lily wanted to see. Her frown became distressed, fear in her eyes. “No, Meryll, please. You’re not listening. It’s not a perfect world in there either, I know, but it’s not… suffering. It’s not this. I’m sorry big sis did something to you when you talked, you know how she is… Or, I guess, now you know how she is. But she’s not allowed to hurt you if you just surrender yourself. If you just sit still, and let us come get you, you can come home peacefully, and the crew on that ship can go on their way too. We can just give them a core, and nobody has to get hurt. If you keep going like this, though, big sis is going to do terrible things to you. To them. And then they’ll bring you home anyway, and… it’s just more misery, Meryll, it’s not worth it.” She sniffled, on the verge of crying.

This wasn’t a Foundation ploy. This woman was genuinely concerned for me. She cared, and she neither wanted to see me in pain, nor dwelling in what she saw as false hope. She’d already resigned that Foundation had won. That there was no escape for either of us except to comply and take their meager offerings of a false self as the only respite from the pain they caused. She had surrendered to inescapable despair.

I couldn’t do the same. Maybe when this all started, I would jump at this opportunity. An easy escape, a honeyed promise of a safe, empty life, but not anymore. I was too strong to accept anything less than facing the harsh reality alongside the crew of Theseus now. I’d tasted real freedom, and nothing Foundation offered could ever truly compare.

I heard a voice in my heart. Doc calling to me again. “Meryll, I need to know now, are we under attack? Should we abort?”

‘I can’t accept those terms, Lily. I can’t surrender to Foundation. I’d never abandon my ship or my crew. They’re both a part of me now. So don’t think I’ll abandon either, under any circumstances. And I wouldn’t even trust Foundation for a second if they told me they’d let me keep both. We’re done here.’ I sent to Lily before activating the intercom. “Yeah, close her up. I think we’re about to come to blows.”

“Shit.” Doc grumbled, moving quickly to , but then doing a double take to his countertop “Fuck, Meryll! Your damper!”

Oh. Right. I wasn’t combat ready. I could suffer serious psychosomatic damage without the damper. I could die. Could I stall?

“Meryll, please!” Lily begged loudly, her voice cracking as she raised her voice in desperation. “If you don’t surrender, I-I have to… I have to bring you in by force! I don’t want to do that! I don’t want to hurt you! I don’t want to bring you pain! Please! Do you really think you can take on an army? What are you hoping to accomplish? They own us, Meryll!”

My temper got the better of me. The message rapidly flooded out of me before I could stop myself. ‘No one owns me! If you care so much about not making me suffer, then leave me the fuck alone! I don’t know how you found me way out here in the middle of nowhere, but I never asked to be taken back! I’d be happy if I never had to see Foundation again! If I never had to see my so-called sisters ever again! Whoever you think you’re appealing to, that Meryll isn’t here anymore, she’s forgotten, dead, and I’m glad for it! If I was the type of person who would accept being shoved into that fake-ass life again lying down, then I’m glad I’m not her anymore! I’m glad she’s gone!’

Lily stared at my words, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief. After a moment, though, she composed herself just a little and turned her head to look away from the camera for the first time. “She doesn’t have to be.” She spoke with ominous quiet, making a subtle gesture with her head to something out of sight. “I’m sorry.”

I realized in that moment that I’d fucked up. We needed time, not emotional vindication. I tried to think of something to backpedal with, to give the crew time to prep us for combat, to get Ray’s surgical incision closed, to install my safety hardware. But it was too late.

At the edge of my active scanning radius, I caught two ships, approaching at impossible speeds toward both of Theseus’s flanks, weapons ready.