Марта Уэллс: Exit Strategy

I found a pocket of archived data on Preservation. Right, my status there was better than equipment or deadly weapon, but I would still have to have an owner. And be a happy bot servant, or something like that. Yeah, that was going to go well.

Possibly I said that out loud, or had said that out loud at some point, because Dr. Mensah said, “No one else on this ship knows you’re a SecUnit. They think that you’re a person with a large number of augments, who was injured while helping us, and that you’re being brought to Preservation as a refugee.”

I actually turned around and looked at her. She was standing next to me, Gurathin was sitting in a chair with a portable display surface bubble, Ratthi was on the bench, and Pin-Lee was leaning on the wall next to the hatch. (And this ship is shitty. It smells like human socks.)

“That last part is true, technically,” Pin-Lee said. “You fit the legal definition of a refugee.”

“It’s very dramatic,” Ratthi added. “The crew think you’re a special security agent who betrayed the company to save us.”

It was very dramatic, like something out of a historical adventure serial. Also correct in every aspect except for all the facts, like something out of a historical adventure serial.

Mensah said, “We have more options now that you’ve changed your appearance, and have been successful at…” She was hesitating over the phrase pretending to be human . I remembered at least three conversations about that. “Let’s say, not being noticed. I want to keep those options open until you’re completely well and you can tell me what you want to do.” She was watching me carefully. “On Port FreeCommerce, I thought you would need a great deal of assistance before you could fit into human society. I was wrong about that and I apologize.”

I focused on her. “I don’t want to go to the planet.”

She nodded. “That’s fine. You can stay on the transit station.”

I was stuck, so I might as well make the best of it. “In a hotel?”

“If you like.”

“With a big display surface.”

She smiled. “That can probably be arranged.”

New memories kept popping up and sliding into place and my connections to all my stored media were coming back, which was distracting because I kept tuning out the outside world to watch them. But they also sparked neural connections that accelerated my process rebuild. When we docked at the Preservation transit ring, Mensah and Pin-Lee left the ship first to distract the humans waiting for us, which included a lot of outsystem journalists. When a crew member signaled it was clear, Ratthi and Gurathin walked me out through the embarkation zone.

They took me to a hotel attached to the station’s admin center, to one of the suites reserved for diplomatic guests. It was nice, even though its security monitoring was completely inadequate. I got a set of rooms to myself, though they were connected to the suites where the others were staying. It was a little like a mini-hotel inside a big hotel.

I didn’t like it.

I went back into the room with a bed and a display surface and locked the door. An hour later, Ratthi tapped my feed and sent, We set up a little network. I hope it helps.

I cautiously initiated a search. They had put cameras in all the suite lounges and connecting hallways, so I could see everything.

I had a complex emotional reaction. A whole new burst of neural connections blossomed. Oh right, I often have complex emotional reactions which I can’t easily interpret.

I made adjustments to the code to make sure no one could hack the new network from outside. Then I unlocked my door.

Mensah had quarters in another part of the station, used for when she was here on government business, and a large portion of her family had come up to see her and be excited about the fact that she wasn’t dead. Pin-Lee, Ratthi, and Gurathin had to stay on the station for now because there were going to be a lot of meetings in the government offices in the admin center next door. Meet ings about GrayCris and the bond company and what happened with Palisade.

Twelve hours after we arrived, Arada and Overse came to see everyone. By that point I was able to access my archive on them and remember: (1) they were clients (2) they were a couple (3) they liked each other and (4) they liked me. I watched them with my local camera network for twenty-three minutes and then came out of my room to let them talk to me. The humans seemed happy about that.

Arada didn’t hug me, though she bounced up and down and waved her arms. Thirteen hours later, after she had talked with the others, she said to me, “In a few months, we’re going on a small assessment survey. It’s an independent site outside the Corporation Rim, so there wouldn’t be any bond company or … We wouldn’t have to worry about that. We’d like you to come along to keep us from getting killed. I don’t know what you’d like in exchange—”

“It likes hard currency cards,” Gurathin said. I looked at him. He said, “I’ll take the obscene gesture as given.”

“You’ll have to wait to discuss it,” Pin-Lee told them. “It can’t enter into any contractual agreements until it completes its memory rebuild.”

“Why?” I asked her. “Because my owner says so?”

“No, asshole,” Pin-Lee said. “Because I’m your legal counsel.”

After that conversation, after the others had gone to sleep, Pin-Lee came back to my room and picked up my bag. (Once I remembered it existed, I’d checked it and found Wilken and Gerth’s ID markers and the currency cards I hadn’t used yet were still there.) Pin-Lee said, “This is technically illegal, so don’t tell anybody,” and put three new ID markers and currency cards into my bag. She said, “This is just some insurance if anything goes sideways. Gurathin made the IDs, and these are cards Ratthi and I got for the trip to TranRollinHyfa, but didn’t use. Preservation doesn’t have an internal currency economy and these are drawn from the citizens’ travel fund.”

“Why?” I said.

“Because I want you to know we’re serious, that you’re not some kind of prisoner or pet or whatever it is you think.” And then she stomped out.

When humans I didn’t know came to visit, I hid back in my room. I spent a lot of time there anyway, even when not hiding, because the rebuild process was taking up a lot of my resources. Just lying on the bed with local media playing on the display surface was all I could do for three to four hour periods.

Twenty-nine hours after arrival, Ratthi came to get me because a newsburst was on the big display surface in the suite’s main lounge area and everyone was watching it. Mensah was there, too. The newsburst had a lot of interviews with various humans, but basically it said that the bond company was still mad about the attack on the gunship and had declared war on GrayCris. (Even in my current state, I knew that was not going to turn out well for GrayCris.) Also, a lot of other corporations and political entities were now involved, because of all the information about GrayCris’ past history of illegal collection of strange synthetics. The newsburst referred to the data I’d brought from Milu and played sections of Wilken and Gerth’s blackmail memory clip, which included video of GrayCris agents and executives in possession of illegal alien remnants. (I watched a little media in background during that part, since I’d already seen the whole clip.)

“We’re out of it now,” Gurathin said, and made a throwing gesture at the display surface. “They can tear each other apart.”

“We’re never out of it while we have to interact with the corporates,” Mensah said. “But this is a relief.”