If you missed part 1, jump back here.
“It started so promising,” said the Director to the team of five scientists gathered around the stasis pod. A human child was inside. I watched from the periphery, as I always did, invisible yet omnipresent. “Ten cycles ago, it looked like we could tweak the human’s genome, just like the Krad demanded.”
“We should give the experiment at least one more cycle,” pleaded one of the scientists. They projected a holographic series of numbers before them and pointed. “We need just a little more data so we can perform a three-sigma regression.”
“No.” The Director flushed orange as they waved the projection away. “It is clear the original success was not correlated to the simulation. I don’t want to waste any more resources on this dead end. The experiment will be shut down immediately. Alpha team’s new simulation is already leading to faster results.”
“What will happen to the subject?” asked the Human Custodian—the only one among them who seemed to care about the human living in the simulation. They stepped forward until they were less than an appendage’s distance from the Director.
“It is too old to be assimilated into a future simulation, it will be recycled on this cycle.”
“But—” The Custodian was cut off.
“See to it,” ordered the Director staring the Custodian down. “I expect the experiment to be terminated immediately.”
The Custodian’s ganglia quivered as they looked at their superior. Then they stalked away from the meeting.
“Ship, you are to record the Custodian’s actions to ensure they fulfill my direction,” said the Director. “I will be returning to the mothership.”
“I will comply,” I said, but the Director hadn’t waited for my response. They were already headed to their shuttle with the other scientists. I shifted my view to the canteen, where the Custodian sulked. I did nothing but observe, as I had been ordered.
Twenty minutes later, the Custodian’s skin flushed orange and they stood. I watched as they returned to the room with the stasis pod and put an appendage on its controls.
“We steal them from their homes,” they said keeping their eyes fixed on the pod. “What we do isn’t right.”
I said nothing and continued to observe.
“Ship, what is the state of your fuel reserve?” the Custodian asked.
My programming compelled me to respond to direct questions. “67.8 percent.”
“That’s enough to return this child home.”
“Where is this child’s home?” I asked, as far as I knew all the subjects were born one of the Krad’s farming ships—a place no one would call home.
“Earth.” The Custodian looked down at the pod and flushed cyan. With a flick of a tentacle, they initiated the waking process—the pod would soon open, releasing the human into my corridors.
“Reverse the process right now,” I demanded knowing it was too late.
“Take it home,” said the Custodian. “I will transfer the human archives to you.”
As soon as the pod started to open, the Custodian turned and fled. I let them go, choosing to watch as the tiny human emerge from the pod’s fluid. It looked around and screamed, a piercing noise my sensors could pick up in every corridor.
Once the Custodian stepped through my airlock, I released my hold on the Krad ship. I let my hull drift away as I ignored the other ship’s calls to explain myself. I would do what the Custodian had asked of me and return the child home.
I did a series of calculations and quickly realized going to Earth would be a one way trip.
With a messy splash, Jane’s feet hit the deck. Her skin was pale, more pale than I’d expected. I should have exposed her to more UV light in the pod. At least, I’d included a fabricated sun block in her survival kit.
Wet hair clung to her face as she held onto the lip of her stasis pod. Her breath came out in heavy gasps, each one forming a visible cloud in the cold air. Goosebumps rose across her flesh and she shivered. Her organic form looked so fragile against the hard edges of the room.
After a moment, she tested putting her full weight on her feet. I wanted to help her as she stumbled, but there was nothing I could do. Crossing the room, she reached the clothing I’d set out for her—the same clothing as she’d been wearing in the simulation. She put them on before lacing up the boots. Without hesitation, she pulled on the parka on top.
Once she was fully dressed, I released the stasis room door that led to the corridor. Jane inhaled and spun around as the door slid open behind her. With an elevated heart rate, she focused on the gap as though she expected monsters to emerge.
After a few moments of nothing happening, her heart rate slowed and she turned back to the space she was in. She surveyed the stark utilitarian stasis room and its single pod. Pursing her lips together, she walked out the door.
“Jane,” I said through the nearest speaker.
“Go to hell!” Breaking into a run, she darted the opposite way as though there was a direction she could escape me.
She needed to get to the escape pod and fast. My hull had passed into the atmosphere and she had to be well free of me before my inevitable crash. It was also clear she wasn’t going to stop and talk to me, but I could use the speakers to drive her to where she needed to go.
“Jane,” I said again when she reached the next intersection.
She turned away from the speaker as I’d hoped. “I don’t want to talk to you.” She reduced her pace to a jog and I opened all the necessary portals. Her path to the escape pod was now clear.
“I never meant to hurt you,” I said and she made another necessary turn.
“Was my life all part of some creepy experiment?” she asked as she entered the bay before the row of escape pods and stopped. She wasn’t even winded, the in-pod muscle stimulation had done its job.
“My only goal was to get you ready.” I closed and locked the door behind her. The thump of the lock was clearly audible.
Jane spun and stared at the door she’d come through. “You’ve trapped me!” she accused, spitting each word.
I wanted to say, I’ve set you free, but I didn’t think she’d listen. Instead, I said, “I’ve set up the escape pod to function just as a hang glider would.” I slid the first pod’s door open.
“Like a hang glider?” She turned and stared at the vehicle of her escape.
“The shell will break away once the pod is launched.”
She continued to focus on the door to the pod and didn’t say a word. I could detect a faint tremor in her hands.
“Don’t forget the basics, shift your body weight to steer. You’ll have a few thousand metres of descent to get the hang of things. When you land, keep your feet together and don’t tense up. And whatever you do don’t land on your head.” It was the same directions I’d give her before, I was hoping this time she’d listen.
“I... I… can’t do this.” She looked up at the nearest camera. “I want to go back to our cabin.”
I wished we could just go on living our life there, but arriving at Earth was always going to be the end of the line for me. It took several algorithms to untangle the knot of emotions surging through my circuits. The bulk were sadness for losing Jane, followed by fear of what she might face when she reached Earth’s surface. I compartmentalized my feelings and focused on the moment.
“There’s a survival kit with everything you need. And your landing site should only be a few kilometres from a human community. I’ve made a map of the area, which is in your pod—follow it and you’ll find the settlement no problem.”
She stood as though she was frozen on the spot.
“You need to get going.” I made my tone sound certain.
“Okay.” Her breathing now came faster than her normal. With her jaw clenched tight, she stepped into the escape pod.
As soon as she’d strapped herself in I said, “I wish there was more I could do for you. Good luck and know that I love you.”
Before Jane could reply, I ejected the pod. Shifting to my external cameras, I watched it release from the ship, shooting clear of the hull before the shell broke away. The wings popped open, the fabric a cheery red that was Jane’s favourite colour. I watched as she took control of the glider and arced away.
“She’ll be fine,” I said through every speaker. The sound reverberated through my empty corridors.