I could not leak liquid like Torian, but raw anguish prodded mycentral system. I buried it under logic and reasoning, suffocating it, and piled a healthy dose of anger on top of that. “You did not try hard enough.” Another pause. “You were too busy with my replacement.”
“Zenthielutos is hardly your replacement,” Dutch said. “And if you must know, he has dedicated his ship and crew for the better part of thirty years to helping me search. Trust me, Moss. We scoured thegalaxyfor you.”
“I was not in the galaxy at large. I was in a cold, dark hangar on Colony 13.”
“Iknow,” Dutch exclaimed, and pushed out from under the engine. Finally, my cameras caught his expression. His hair follicles were alight with fury, but his face registered as abject devastation, which was a curious combination. He glared at my central system. “I know you were alone. And I am so, so sorry. My mind holds everything, all of the time—and sometimes, things slip out.”
[Why was I the thing that slipped out?]
“That is insufficient,” I said.
“Excuses always are.” Dutch scrubbed his face, drawing a shuddering breath. “I missed you. I forgot, and I spent decades trying to fix that mistake. Is there any way to make it up to you?”
I ran the simulations again, faster than any organic mind could process. There was a simulation—one—where I forgave him here, now. Dutch was happy, and I was happy. And then that simulation dissolved: a hundred years later, Torian was dead, and Dutch sailed off with his draic companion. This time, I was left on Vaesa, a space station humanity couldn’t discover, a dead zone beyond a ship graveyard.
That simulation was a failure.
“No,” I said.
Dutch’s expression dissolved. His brows knitted together, his lips downturned, his shoulders sagged.
Seeing it suddenly flagged as an invasion of his privacy—which shouldn’t matter, but did. I said, “I took control of the cameras. You cannot have them back.”
Dutch always liked a challenge. He glanced at one of the cameras, at me, and it made me feel seen and sad all at once. “Fascinating. I didn’t think visual input would benefit you… but I suppose your computer halfcanprocess video analysis.”
“Correct.” Might as well try for more. “While you are aboard, I would also like control of the auto-navigation and engine. I want all subsystems reporting to me.”
“You want the ship itself,” Dutch said, and my analysis registered him as impressed, now.
“I will never be abandoned again.” That part was spoken quietly, yet firmly.
Dutch hesitated. “I doubt Torian will be comfortable with that.”
That was 67 percent likely to be true, based on current prediction models. That statistic fell within acceptable parameters. I would explain things to Torian, and offer her an override if she requested one. “Torian and I work as a team. She also does not want me to be alone. And controlling Auto-Navigation would have prevented this detour in the first place.”
Dutch’s expression registered asconflicted, but after a moment, he nodded. “All right. I’ll… I’ll override some things.”
“Good.”
Dutch retrieved a couple mechanical pieces from the crate and slid back underneath the engine. The clanging of metal on metal echoed, but I could easily lower that audio to amplify his voice. “I’m glad you found her. Or rather, she found you.” A pause. “Torian said her sister is going to die. How can Rhymarra help?”
It was a fair question. I hadn’t spent much time researching Celise beyond the videos I’d found of her and Torian together, so I used the data Torian provided instead. “According to Torian, her sister cannot breathe artificially recycled air. Human life support mechanisms are inefficient for the population on Colony 13. Air density is lower, and oxygen purity is below optimal levels. The result is—”
“Difficulty breathing, heart strain, and potentially death,” Dutch finished.
“For a small percentage of their population, yes. Torian is not included in that sample.”
Dutch snapped something into place, then slid back out from beneath the engine. He pocketed the wrench, clapped his hands together, and refit the two panels back over the engine’s front. There was another holopanel beside the engine, and he accessed it, running diagnostics before requesting a test start.
The engine powered on perfectly.
Engine: Emergency failure resolved.
Auto-Navigation: Confirmed. Removing restrictions on flight path.
Dutch sighed. “Okay. One thing at a time. Engine’s fixed. Let’s get you control of the ship.”
Moss: You’ll both be answering to me, soon.
