Something over my shoulder draws Kodiak’s attention. “Shit! Hurry—” he says.
I have no time to react before my ears fill with noise and my vision sparks. Every muscle in my body seizes, and the loudness turns scalding. A buzzing sound turns to a pop, and then I find I’ve shot out against the far wall, am back in gravity and sliding to the floor.
Rover is between me and the portal, outstretched arms sparking. The half-basketball of him darts back and forth, electrified arm waving menacingly. I hold the defib paddle out, and Rover pauses.
Kodiak’s face appears in the opening. “Crishet.”
Rover points its other electrified arm in Kodiak’s direction. The standoff is complete.
I power up the defib paddle. The handle warms and hums.
Kodiak disappears for a moment. I expect him toreappear holding the wrench, but instead he holds his own wrist out of the opening, pointing with the other hand to where a bracelet would be.
Of course. He needs my bracelet data to complete the takeover of the ship’s operating system. Holding the defib paddle out as a warning to Rover, I go through the commands to digitally unlock my bracelet, then tuck it between my chin and chest to unclasp it. After a couple of practice movements, I toss it to Kodiak.
Rover whips its arm out to intercept the bracelet, but the slim band arcs over. Kodiak reaches out... and catches it. That’s my Kodiak.
“Give me a minute. Just stave off Rover,” he says, before disappearing into the darkness.
Oh sure, easy. Just stave off Rover.
Rover’s decided to stay motionless, monitoring Kodiak’s exit point while it keeps an eye on me.
As we hold still, shock subsides to reveal the pain of my electrocution, the burning feeling along my lower back, the ache in my knotted muscles. Little robot asshole. I slump into a seat, defib paddle still outstretched, though in my current state it’s hard to think I’d be any good at wielding it. Fuck, that hurt!
OS’s voice comes on. “Spacefarer Cusk, tell me what Spacefarer Celius is intending to do.”
Now it’s my turn to go silent. Rover ticks toward me,sparking arms waving.
“He’s...,” I start to say. But I stop. What lie would OS possibly believe? What information could I give it that wouldn’t further endanger me and Kodiak?
“Ambrose, did you hear me?” OS asks as Rover nudges even closer.
I hold out the paddle. “Stop it right there, you bastard little toaster.”
Rover stops.
OS is actually talking to me. I should take advantage of this opportunity, but my frizzled brain can’t decide how. There are a dozen equally pressing questions I could ask, which means I can’t pose any one of them.
Besides, I’m starting to realize that I don’t want to ask for answers right now. I want to produce them.
There’s a click from somewhere in the ship, almost inaudible. But it changes the tenor of theCoordinated Endeavor, like some mechanism has ticked over deep within. “Kodiak, what’s going on in there?” I ask.
“I’ve just got... one more to go,” he says.
“Are we decelerating?” I ask.
“I guess?” Kodiak calls. “But really slowly. You shouldn’t be able to detect it.”
“I know. The ship just sounds different. Rover’s still here, by the way,” I say.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Kodiak says, his voice nearingthe opening. He appears, floating in the center of the narrow space, arms up defensively in case Rover charges him. “Which means I’m stuck in here.”
_-* Tasks Remaining: ERROR *-_
A human body—my human body—will eventually relax if a situation doesn’t change. But Rover’s body never does. As the hours pass it remains alert, recalibrating its position between me and Kodiak, adjusting a centimeter for every centimeter that I move. As I become more confident that Rover isn’t going to electrocute me again without cause, I experiment with walking around the room, then with leaving and coming back.
“Rover isn’t budging,” I call up to Kodiak. “It keeps itself perfectly between me and the opening.”
