For the ageing archaeologist, for the girl-engineer, for Yan, Iris would never go home.
16
Where does it all go, when it’s no longer here?
What does it become, when it is no longer itself?
From the unedited records of embedded companion AI construct
Construct Model: 3XU-T
Handler: Iris [last name unavailable]
Blinded for a moment, the fourteen-year-old Iris blinked furiously as Dr. Rahi passed the light back and forth a few more times, from his left eye to his right and back. He then had Iris stick his tongue out, inspected his tonsils, drew some blood, measured his blood pressure, and performed another half-a-dozen tests before he looked the boy up and down and sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Iris,” Dr. Rahi said. “You’re not running a fever, you don’t have a concussion, and all your tests keep coming back normal. You might just be tired.”
Iris scratched the back of his head, pausing over the scar where the AI implant had been inserted. “I don’t remember things as well as I used to. Mother Nova’s mad. I keep messing up with my scriptures.”
Dr. Rahi looked at him thoughtfully, twirling the penlight in his fingers. Iris was a tall, wiry teenager, a bottomless pit for any food and drink that was given to him. He could sleep for an entire day if he were ever to be presented with the opportunity.Discipline was wasted on teenage boys like him. “Iris, there’s only so much we can do for you without replacing the AI. After your incident, it hasn’t been functioning properly and as a result, neither have you.”
Iris’s eyes shot up to look at him, filled with latent fury. He watched Dr. Rahi take half a step back, carefully eyeing the spot where Iris’s hand clutched the edge of the gurney. “I’m still well ahead in my studies,” Iris said, the hue of his voice betraying his forcibly calm face.
“Imagine how well you could do with a functional AI.”
Iris sensed his construct move in the back of his mind. A sharp electrical current passed through the base of his brain stem, and he winced.
I want to leave.
We’re almost done,Iris soothed the electronic voice.
“And there’s that,” Dr. Rahi added, awfully aware of the wince. “Iris, in a few years, you will begin working as a Vessel, and you will be required to travel and perform funeral rites all over the galaxy. A functional AI will assure your safety, will remember different customs for you, translate languages; it will be your guide in this journey. Without one, you can get lost, you can even get in trouble.”
“How did people travel before AIs then?” Iris bit back.
Dr. Rahi sighed, turned away, and began filling Iris’s prescription. “Before, they weren’t travelling across the galaxy. Before, they didn’t memorise a thousand years’ worth of scripture. Life was easier before. Times changed, and we didn’t, so we need the constructs to help us keep up. Here.” He handed Iris a pillbox. “Take one every night before bed. It’ll improve your circulation and hopefully help with both memory and the pain.”
“Is there any way to help my construct?” Iris asked.
Dr. Rahi raised a furry eyebrow.
“The best thing you can do is replace it, the best thing for both of you.”
Iris thought for a moment. “What will happen to it once it’s no longer with me?” He winced at the sudden surge in his brain stem.Don’t worry, we’re almost done,Iris thought softly.Just this one thing, and we can go.
Dr. Rahi shrugged and nudged Iris with the pillbox. “Who knows?”
Jesi had finally cried herself to sleep, and with her went the last sound that disturbed the quiet. Yan had managed to override one of the doors and severed the corridor between them and whatever had killed Eli. Having scrubbed his face of Eli’s blood best he could, Iris idly listened to water drip from the ceiling as it lulled him into a shallow meditative trance. He watched Ishtan and Yan move about through half-lidded eyes, failing to care about either at the moment. This was as much peace as they would get.
“Poor child,” Ishtan said, his back resting against the wall, his gun in his hand. He was remarkably calm given what had transpired. Too calm. This sort of terminal calm often came before the bitter end, in Iris’s experience. A lucidity, a clarity that often ended in death. Yet another imminent emergency Iris would have to attend to. He cursed internally at the callousness of his thoughts, but he couldn’t stop them.
“Jesi’s resilient,” Yan said, his voice low. “She’ll be all right, if only we can get her out of here.” He didn’t say “getusout of here,” and Iris gave him a side glare. Ishtan didn’t notice or noticed but failed to care about the ladenif.
The archaeologist chewed his lip in silence, thinking. His thick, grey brows furrowed together. “Seems like the vines reactedwhen I suggested we remove the mural,” he muttered. “Almost like they overheard me. Makes me think that as long as we don’t discuss meddling with the ship, we should be safe, for now.”
It was Yan’s turn to glare at Iris. “Vesselhere has a theory about that.”
“There’s a chance the ship may be alive,” Iris said before Yan could interject with another remark. He had to talk quickly before Yan discredited him. “There’s a chance it has an AI system running it and it’s—it doesn’t want us doing whatever it is we’ve been doing.”
Ishtan raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t it too old to have an AI?”
