Peat:*trill*
A: Ahh!!!!
M: No.No.
“Moss, this might be a good idea,” Torian was saying. “We wanted to give you freedom, but I imagine creating a new central system in Vaesa will take more time. This is a good middle ground, at least? Gets you off the ship.”
She was 99 percent traitor.
“I am already off the ship,” I said.
“There’s no range limit on Peat,” Dutch said. “You can tap into it anytime, anywhere you want. Or just leave it. Either way, it’s adorable, so it’s staying.”
Torian squeaked again, crouching to pet Peat. She was careful not to touch my moss colony along its artificial spine, but Dutch had apparently covered the rest of the robot in something akin to green fur. Peat purred, winding between her legs as if it were a small feline.
As a moss colony, I was not often inclined to be curious. However, that was rapidly changing as my central system adapted to all of the intelligent organics that paraded through my ship. As a result, when Peat the robot pressed me to pair again, I reluctantly accepted.
[If it was staying anyway, I might as well assess its ability to be a resource.]
The transition was instantaneous and jarring. One moment, I was reviewing familiar camera angles in theDestitute—and the next, I was standing on my own moss colony, making sense of an entirely new movement style and viewpoint.
Peat went still as I analyzed motion patterns. From this perspective, I was lookingupat Torian, which felt disorienting. Its eyes were impressive cameras, and its ears could receive even distant, quiet sounds. Peat’s programming wrapped around me like… well, like a colony of moss over a metal wall.
[It was comforting.]
Peat jerked under my control. The motion meant Torian’s fingers brushed my moss colony along the mobile unit’s back. Torian recoiled with an apology that took a moment to process.
It took a moment becausethattouch, filtered through Peat’s programming, felt…
It was difficult to describe. My databanks suppliedwonderful, butthat seemed too simplistic. It felt like rain on my moss colony, soaking into the leaves, promoting growth in my rhizoids, leaving me with the contentedness of knowing I was sustained.
Normally, touch left me with negative vibrations. Today, Peat showed me something new. It vibrated through my colony as I reached a consensus that through Peat, and Peat alone, touch wasn’t just allowed.
It was appreciated.Desired.
Ah, you have realized it. Itisnice, to feel a nylarian hand brushing my bark, a constant reminder of our presence here and now, Kerracia vibrated, yet again waxing poetic.
No one asked, I replied, withdrawing my consciousness from the moss in Vaesa for a moment.
Peat, the program, was pleased at my presence. It allowed me full access, even offering helpful suggestions of code to mimic the natural movement of a quadrupedal form. I incorporated that, finally smoothing out my motions.
“I… I liked that touch, Torian,” I said. Peat had a tiny speaker, so my voice was smaller than usual.
Torian seemed delighted. “Youdid? Can I pet you?”
[Was this embarrassing?]
[Did I care?]
“Yes,” I said.
Torian obliged, and I sank into the enjoyable feeling of touch for the first time in my existence. It was so distracting that I almost didn’t notice Auto-Nav poking me.
Then it became impossible to ignore, as Auto-Nav said over the main speakers: “The signatures are back! The ones that blocked my radar. Help. Help!”
I yanked out of Peat, settling back into my central system. It only took a moment to analyze the data, and I added over the main speakers of theDestitute, “They appear to be organics, swarming Vaesa.”
“Organics?” Dutch recoiled. “In the vacuum of space?”
