“There is plenty of ravla on Verdaan. You may go there to refill your supply. Get stranded for another hundred years. Perhaps then, you will know how it feels.”
Dutch snorted. He prepared a cup for himself, stepping gently over my moss carpet. When he started to hum under his breath, it felt almost like one of the days before my abandonment. Dutch and Moss, traveling the galaxy together. The good old—
[(ERROR)]
Focus. Torian was my pilot now. And there was a 6.1 percent chance Dutch would venture onto the flight deck and attempt to steal this vessel from her. It was a low chance, but as we’d established,lowwas notzero. Preemptively, I applied a security wall around Auto-Navigation.
Unfortunately, Auto-Nav noticed.
Auto-Navigation: Time? Time to fly? Want to fly!!
That was… uncharacteristic. I poked its code—but while I investigated its change in personality, it continued to pester me.
A: FLY! Moss, FLY!
Moss: Not yet. No fly.
A: No fly? WHY? Want to fly. Good at flying. Moss, Moss. Moss. Moss. Moss, fly. Fly, Moss.
I upgraded my assessment fromuncharacteristictoconcerning.Auto-Navigation was no longer the equivalent of a creature in the peripheral, ignoring me, proceeding through basic tasks. Now, it was acting more like a human toddler. Still proceeding through basic tasks, but with a level of…emotion.
[Just what I needed. More emotion on this starship.]
A: Moss. Moss. Moss.
Engine: Moss. Moss.
M: Don’t you start, Engine.
I didn’t have the processing power to handle thisandDutch. Temporarily, I added a firewall around Auto-Navigation and Engine to both mute and contain them. I hadn’t expected these systems to become so annoying when they started reporting to me.
Dutch, surprisingly, did not leave the living area. He took a seat at the small table instead, tracing the rim of his mug. “Moss, our history aside, I need to speak with you.”
“About something other than your abandonment?”
“There are other things, shockingly.”
An accurate assessment. “Proceed.”
“Torian Razner’s sister.” Dutch took a sip of the beverage. My sensors registered it as pleasantly warm for organic consumption.
He would not take credit for this. Discussing Celise Razner was number two on my priority list from the minute he entered theDestitute.I interrupted: “Iplanned to discuss withyouabout Torian Razner and her sister.”
“I should have guessed,” Dutch replied, registering asamused.
This situation was not amusing. “Celise Razner will perish without access to cleaner air. Your suggestion is to move her onto this starship—my systems log that prediction with ninety-four point five percent certainty.”
Dutch waved a hand in a gesture I’d logged centuries ago asGo on, then.
I continued: “Torian and I already discussed this possibility. My air contains a comfortable oxygen content for most organics, and I excel at purifying toxins and carbon dioxide. I am superior to every atmosphere, except perhaps a natural planet.” I checked with my moss on the exterior of the ship, analyzing a sample of the air quality on Rhymarra. It was, admittedly, quite pure—but mine was .00024 percent better. “I outperform this terraformed planet, certainly.”
Dutch chuckled, glancing at the ceiling. “Let me guess. You arrived at the same conclusion: That ship isn’t meant for two. It’s barely meant for one.”
There was something thrilling about an intellectual discussion with Dutch. I had loved helping him visit new planets and analyze their populations. It made me wilt into some deeper emotion—regret, perhaps, or sadness.
I could not entertain that right now, so I returned to his topic. “Correct. Living aboard a starship full time would be damaging to a human’s mental health, even if her physical health improves. Luckily, I have another solution.”
“Me, too. Say it on three?”
