“Have you asked OS about this?”
“Yes, he has,” my mother’s voice responds as we drop back into my quarters. “And I replied that a jury-rigged can of bolts that you’ve decided to call a radio receiver can’t be expected to function properly.”
“Hi there, OS,” I say.
“I think we offended it with the whole off-grid antenna thing,” Kodiak says, not bothering to keep his voice low.
“I don’t think an operating system can get offended,” I say.
“You most certainly did offend me,” OS says simultaneously.
“Oh,” I say. “Sorry.”
We pass by the yellow portal. The sweet tang of hot polycarb hangs in the air. Rover has already cleaned up the fragments and is up beside the hole, where it’s busy printing a replacement covering.
“Rover, stop,” I say.
Rover does not stop. It’s a jellyfish in still water, motionless while its arm prints away. Rover is both facing me and not facing me. Rover has no eyes. Rover has no face. That fact is suddenly horrifying.
“Rover, we asked you to stop,” Kodiak says.
Rover does not stop.
Kodiak glances at me before he climbs toward zero g so he can reach Rover.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I start to say, before Rover jerks one of its printing arms and electrocutes Kodiak.
The jolt is strong enough to dim the ship’s lights, and sends Kodiak careening through the air, tumbling into gravity to fall just where I fell not an hour ago. The lights flicker back to full force while Kodiak screams, then curls his body in silent agony, mouth agape.
I rush to him, hands on either side of his face. “Are you okay?”
He brushes me off and staggers to his feet. “Yes, I’m fine.” He starts yelling, his voice slurred: “OS! Disable Rover.”
“I will not disable Rover,” OS says.
“Roverattackedme! That is forbidden. You know that. I order you to disable it.”
“Rover is protecting you. Ambrose wounded himself byentering an area not intended for humans. I am preventing you both from damaging your bodies further. If I disabled Rover, theCoordinated Endeavorwould soon become nonfunctioning, creating conditions that would end in your deaths. Disabling this Rover or the Rovers in storage is simply not an option. My commitment to your survival forbids it.”
Wincing, Kodiak takes a step closer to Rover. The robot doesn’t even pause in its printing; it simply extends its spare arm and sends out a blue warning spark. It has a flair for the dramatic, that little bot. “Stop, Kodiak,” I say. “Rover will just shock you again.”
Kodiak’s body goes rigid. “Shazyt! This. Is. Not. Good.”
“It’s possible that OS is telling us the truth,” I say.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Kodiak says, glowering.
“I am not being an idiot,” I say calmly, after biting down my first angry response. “It’s an essential element of OS’s programming not to lie to us. We are totally dependent on it. If we can’t trust our ship, we’re done for.”
“Wise remark,” comes my mother’s voice.
I swallow the first taste of rising bile.
“You’rebothidiots,” Kodiak says, getting off the table.
“Look, I know you’re mad—” I start.
He whirls and bashes his fist into the wall. “None of this makes sense,” he says. “How can we receive radio from the future? How can my homeland begonein that future? How can OS have justattackedme—andyou’re calm about all of it?”
