Moss considered that silently.
Torian wiped the sleep from her eyes, redirecting her attention out the windows. She didn’t see anything—not a flash of darkness, nothing serpentine. If something was following the ship, it was staying carefully out of sight. But already, Verdaan had appeared beyond the asteroids. The planet grew bigger as they approached.
Whatever resolution Moss had reached, she hadn’t expected the conversation to continue—at least, not right now. But just as Vaesa appeared on the planet’s horizon, Moss said quietly, “For over a century, I… wished… for company. If I had Auto-Navigation to speak with, I would not have been alone.”
Yeah.
Torian smiled. “Sounds like you have a chance here, then. Dutch created you, and then left, and it didn’t leave you feeling very good. Do you want to leave Auto-Nav to its own devices… or would you rather take responsibility for the system you created?”
“I did not intend to create it.”
“Did Dutch intend to createyou?”
“Yes. I was always intended to be life support.” Moss paused, amending, “Although he did say that my sentience was ‘a welcome surprise.’”
Torian shrugged. “Maybe Auto-Nav is a welcome surprise, then.”
This time, Moss was silent for a long, long time. Torian let it work through whatever it could, giving it the space it needed. Finally, Moss said, “Thank you. I am marking this conversation ashelpful. We will be at Vaesa in eleven minutes. Now is the time to awaken your sister.”
Well, okay then.
Torian offered one last look out the window and sighed. “Let me know if you see anything strange.” She slid out of the pilot’s seat and jogged down the stairs, rapping on the door to the sleeping room.
Time to show Celise her new potential home.
While Celise got dressed, Torian gently steered the ship into the dock. At some point, Moss had decided to give Auto-Navigation freedom to speak over the intercom. However, it didn’t have a voice module like Moss, so its communication came across as electronic screeching instead of words.
Torian grimaced, plugging one ear and holding the yoke with the other. “Moss,Heavens. That’s so distracting. Can you translate?”
“One moment.”
The screeching changed to sharp beeps, almost like Morse code. Then it shifted again into a computerized tone, with words that sounded stiff and mechanical. “—am Auto-Nav. I am Auto-Nav. I am Auto-Nav.”
“Hello, Auto-Nav,” Torian said. It was a struggle to concentrate on both docking the shipandtalking to a new computer, but Moss had confided that Auto-Nav had begged for the ability to speak with the “non-Auto-Navigation pilot.”
Torian couldn’t ignore it after that.
“I am Auto-Nav,” it said again.
“Weknow,” Moss replied, irritation in its tone. That hadn’t lasted long.
A pause, where Torian cut the engine and activated the auxiliary jets. TheDestitutedrifted slowly through the energy barrier. A mechanical… giggle…? sounded through the speakers when the ship passed through it.
“That is my favorite part,” Auto-Nav said.
Torian had no idea where Auto-Nav found a sound bite of agiggle, but it was both creepy and hilarious. She laughed. “Mine, too.” They anchored at one of Vaesa’s docks, and she pressed a few buttons to power down the starship. Beyond the windows, Vaesa was as welcoming as before, all wood accents and overgrown plants. A rush of excitement swept through Torian, and she absently said, “We’ll be here for a couple days. Can we talk with you later, Auto-Nav?”
“I will be alone?”
It did sound like a child. Torian’s heart wrenched. “Not if—”
“I will stay with you,” Moss said.
Auto-Nav replied, “Yay!”
Torian chuckled, pushing away from the control panel. She patted the dashboard, very close to Moss’s moss colony, but still never touching it. “That’s very kind of you, Moss.” Her words were quiet, proud.
Moss said, “I am kind. Sometimes.”
