An ache was just an ache.
An ache was neutral.
Iris focused on the pull of muscle against the sealant. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed, and he transitioned into sitting cross-legged. He breathed in again, deeper this time, the ache growing proportionally.
Like a lighthouse, the throbbing pain guided his mind towards a trained calm. He sensed the hard, metallic floor beneath his thighs, the individual beads of sweat gliding down his spine, the mala that he habitually unwound from his wrist and passed between his fingers.
When he opened his eyes again, Riyu was still there, golden skin ashen, and still very much dead. But now that the veil of fear had lifted, Iris observed her body with detached curiosity. Already the ecosystem had begun to welcome her back. The fungi worked fast—a thin layer of mycelium was quickly growing across Riyu’s hands. There was nothing different to it than the decomposition of a fruit. There was nothing especially different about the human body. It too would be reclaimed by the ecosystem; it too had already served its need. Perhaps, in this last translation, it fulfilled some final role. The same vines that had ended Riyu’s life so prematurely would be sustained by the nutrients in her body. The same fungi that Riyu was studying would be connecting her to the internal network that spanned the forests within theNicaea. Everything became something else. Nothing was inherently bad. Nothing possessed malicious intent for malice’s sake. It all simply strived to survive, to fend off trespassers, to satisfy its curiosity. Competing systems, all of it, nothing more.
With a barely audible chime, VIFAI pulled up Iris’s updated biometrics. Heart rate slowing, blood pressure returning tobaseline. He was doing better. Nowhere near how good he was doing before he ever set foot on the ship, but good enough, given the circumstances. He let his eyes and mind wander aimlessly across Riyu’s form, accepting the tiny jolts of panic that came and went. His mind drifted towards the others, the fear they exuded. He had done poorly as a Vessel; he had done very little to comfort and to protect. Even Yan had done more, and he was arguably the least equipped out of any of them.
Automatically, Iris reached into the sleeve of his robes and found the cigarette there—and everything went to shit. The throbbing in his left shoulder was no longer a calming metronome, but a burning reminder of all his failings and transgressions. Failing to complete the very task he was assigned to.Thatparticular reminder still lay in a monstrous pile in the cargo bay, and no matter what beautiful words he said over it, it would remain a mountain of human bones that he had failed to organise. He had failed as a Vessel, as a guide, as a comfort. He had failed as a friend to Riyu. VIFAI flagged his climbing heart rate and blood pressure, but that was hardly needed.A fraud.A fraud in white cloth he sullied simply by wearing it.A charlatan.Those were Yan’s exact words on the first day, weren’t they?
Don’t fight it,VIFAI finally said, sternly.Have the thought. Acknowledge it. Accept it for what it is, and move on. Don’t engage. Don’t wrestle it. You won’t win.
Iris gave nothing but a slight hiss as a response. What thought? There were too many towrestle. First, he had failed at his assignment. He had anticipated spending this time alone, as a retreat, but that had changed. But he had had no other choice. He had needed to modify his assignment, expand it to allow for these new events. He couldn’t have anticipated the academics being here. He couldn’t make them leave. He had had to adjust.It was the only thing he could truly control: his own approach to the problem.
The next thought came without warning. He had failed as a guide and as a comfort. Iris winced at the shame radiating through his fingertips. He had, there was no denying that, but he couldn’t undo it now. He couldn’t alter the flow of time, no matter how much he wished for it. He could only do better with every passing hour. He couldn’t revive Ordan or Riyu, and wishing for it to be otherwise would only bring him more grief. He needed to let go and help others do the same.
Have the thought. Allow for it. Accept it for what it is, and move on.
Another thought. This one was not entirely unpleasant, and yet, it was the most dangerous of them all. This kind of thought distracted and clouded the mind, and in their precarious position, it could cost Iris his life. This thought he quickly quashed. There were places Iris wouldn’t go even in the comforts of his mind, some thoughts he wouldn’t allow himself, even if VIFAI already knew them. At least it was kind enough to keep them to itself. After all their years together, it knew when to back off and when to press, and Iris was too fragile already to withstand any sort of pressing.
In the past, he had done everythingright. He had recited the right mantras one hundred thousand times and prostrated himself one hundred thousand times before both the rising and setting suns. He had visualised the vastness of the cosmos one hundred thousand times until there was nothing but stardust behind his eyelids. Iris had done all this and then done it twice again. Yet, where these preparations transformed others’ minds into fertile soil for the seeds of enlightenment to be planted, his remained barren. Barren and charred as the ground of his home. No meditation could sprout roots, no deeper consciousness could be awakened.
When Iris closed his eyes, he saw no great threads of the Light entangled within every living thing. Only cold darkness. For years, he had smiled and bowed and tended to his meditation every day, and kept the terrible secret buried so deep that even VIFAI would sometimes forget.
A charlatan.Yan had been right all along.
A charlatan who’s finally calm enough to move?
Iris asked for his vitals again. Although his heart was still racing, and his blood pressure was elevated, and he was exhausted and hypoglycemic, he conceded that this was as good as things would get. Crumbs of a plan gathered in his mind.
VIFAI already knew the proposal, but Iris would tell it anyway—if nothing else, to distract himself from the futility of it all.We have to act now, there is no more denying it,he thought.I have to act, or worse things will begin to happen.He slowly rose to his feet, his rest coming to an end.
The academics and Eli would surely resist. Yan too would need convincing. Yanespeciallywas important to convince. Iris was learning that having the engineer’s approval not only improved his credibility among the others, but also settled his nerves in the most annoying way possible. That last bit brought up a mix of conflicting feelings Iris was quick to cull before VIFAI got its greedy proverbial hands on it and insisted on how inappropriate it was to have those inclinationsnowof all times.
“I believe it would be best if we split up,” Iris said and immediately raised his hand in Tev’s direction. “I understand that this is exactly how people die in horror media, but this is the best strategy to take. If someone is indeed watching us at all times, they could continue to watch us as we split up, but it would make it difficult to target both groups at the same time. We don’t know their numbers. It may just be two. Even if onlyone group makes it, they might be able to call for help.” Iris looked to Yan hopefully, expecting the engineer to side with him.
“And if they can? Attack us both at once, I mean,” Yan asked, arms folded across his chest.
“Then what good will staying together do?”
“Statistically speaking,” Jesi said, “it does increase our chances of survival. But how will we know where to go? We don’t all have AIs crammed into our skulls like you, Vessel.”
The slight edge to her voice did not go amiss. Iris gave Jesi a small nod instead. “You’re quite right. I believe we can come up with a solution, given all the technology you engineers have brought aboard. And if that fails, I can also sketch the path out on some good old-fashioned paper.”
“No need to say things you can’t unsay, Vessel,” Yan said wryly.
“Why can’t you just share the map?” Ishtan asked.
“We have no access to the universal feed,” Iris said. “And there isn’t a smaller, more private feed that we can use. My AI simply cannot speak to any of the computers the engineers have here.”
All three engineers stared at him in impressed silence. Iris had made his point, one he had been attempting to since the beginning. He wasn’t all sutras and prayers. Tev chortled, and Jesi gave him a slap on the arm. Yan furrowed his brow. “Don’t count us out just yet.” He waved for Eli to join them. “Come upstairs with me, there’s something I need to pick up. Everyone else, stay exactly where I am leaving you. No one moves.”
“First, it’s Eli probably killed a guy, now it’s Eli will probablynotkill me. Make up your mind, won’t ya?” Still, Eli unholstered his gun and followed.
Yan threw Iris alook. “I shared that in confidence.”
