“Fine.”
“The pulsar blade will still respond to your fingerprint,” Iris said over Yan’s shoulder, eyeing Jesi. “Use it if you have to. Be careful once you’re inside the airlock. That blade will cut anything.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve done all I can for you, Jesi.” Iris wished he didn’t sound so callous, but he had to. “It’s up to you now.Go.”
It’s awake.
Behind them, a handful of slithering vines crept into the light. “Go!” he shouted, and his pulsar blade extended to its full length. When he threw one last look over his shoulder, both Yan and Jesi had already turned the corner of the corridor.
What’s our plan?
It doesn’t want us dead. It wants me incapacitated, so we fight for as long as we can.
And then?
And then we fight some more.
VIFAI chose to remain silent. Iris didn’t give much thought to what would become of him and his AI companion after they couldn’t fight any longer. A puppet for a thousand-year-old ship? There were few fates stranger.
Back at the temple, sparring with Bacai usually ended in him having to do most of her chores after she would beat him mercilessly for the thousandth time. What Iris wouldn’t give to spar with Bacai just one more time, one final time. He looked ahead;the vines were slowly closing in on him. Here, he would remainhere. As far as he was concerned, there was no after.And then we die.
LEAVING SO SOON, VESSEL?It was awake again. The ship’s voice came distantly now, like she was shouting down a long hallway. Having taken residence in another brain, her commands would come slower. Mere fractions of a second could even the odds, lengthen the battle.
“I wouldn’t dare think of it,” Iris replied and prepared for the fight. He would follow behind Jesi and Yan, just far enough to stop any of theNicaea’s attackers going their way. Without hesitation, he sprinted away from the approaching vines and towards the stairwell. One of the pursuing vines reached for his feet and slammed into his ankles. He fell forwards, tumbled over his shoulders, and landed back on his feet. Ignoring the pain, he kept running. Another vine lunged at him from the left, but VIFAI reacted first, moving Iris’s arm to slash it before he even knew there was danger. Another two steps, and Iris was inside the stairwell.
A moment to catch his breath.
IN MY TIME, A GOOD MONK WOULD RATHER SELF-IMMOLATE THAN RESORT TO VIOLENCE. TheNicaea’s playful echo reached the stairwell through the distance.
Iris smiled wide, baring his teeth. The last intact surveillance camera reflected his own image back at him. His punctured calf was bleeding more now, but the pain barely registered. There was fresh blood along his left shoulder too, and Iris couldn’t remember, didn’t care, how it got there. This body was nothing but a tool to go about the world, and he would use his up well before it inevitably retired. “I’m not a good monk,” he hissed.
It’s trying to pry me open.
Iris could feel it too, like a metallic scalpel edging along his brain stem.Don’t let it. Not yet.He ran up three flights of stairs and out into the corridor. The airlock was a kilometre away. Luckily, the vines here were thin and packed less force. They were, however, much sharper. One pierced Iris’s side, just above his liver. Knocked off-balance, he rolled along the floor. VIFAI reacted. Despite the ache in his shoulder and the splitting pain in his side, Iris’s arm slashed at the approaching vines.
Sorry.
“Don’t worry,” Iris pushed out through clenched teeth. “We’ve had worse.”
Forwards, he had to keep moving forwards. A few more steps and then reprieve. With a wheeze, Iris crawled to his feet and continued running.
STOP HERE, AND I’LL LET THEM LIVE.
Don’t—
But Iris had already stopped. The first vine pierced his right palm, the second, his bicep, hard enough to throw him flush against the wall. With a scream, Iris dropped the pulsar blade. It fell just out of reach and disappeared beneath the vines. The final strike never came.
SO MUCH FOR ALL LIVING THINGS BEING THE SAME.
She was gloating. Iris nearly laughed. Of all the improbable and impossible things, it just had to be a killer ship. He wished he could see Bacai’s face when he told her. He wouldn’t, but it was a comforting image. “You can’t kill me and get what you desire,” Iris panted, falling, for a moment, beneath the wave of pain. “We’re at a stalemate.” TheNicaeacarved into his brain stem, but he had no strength left to scream.
I CAN WAIT. I HAVE TIME. MORE TIME THAN YOU DO, VESSEL. YOU WILL GROW WEAK, AND YOUR AI WILLGROW WEAK, AND NEITHER OF YOU WILL BE MUCH OF A CHALLENGE. I KNOW HOW TO WAIT PEOPLE OUT.
She was right. A small puddle of his blood widened around him, drop by drop. Iris took a deep breath and pulled away from the wall, reaching for where his pulsar blade had fallen. The vines in his right arm dug deeper, and he screamed again, his voice hoarse and brittle in the silence of the ship. “I can’t do it,” he muttered. “I can’t do it. I would if I could remove my arm, but I need the pulsar blade to remove my arm.” He sobbed.
YOUR SUFFERING IS MOST HONOURABLE.
