Линда Нагата - Edges

He’d hijacked the ship by introducing a parasitic neural system into its structure. A molecular war had ensued as an army of Chenzeme nanomachines attempted to defend against the invasion, but the Makers Urban brought with him had proved capable of more rapid adaptation. He’d swiftly come to dominate the ship’s Chenzeme mind.

His neural system had continued to expand, growing ever more intricate over centuries, reaching everywhere within the warship. He’d tested his control under demanding circumstances and concluded it was absolute—at least under the ship’s current configuration.

The warren growing within Dragon ’s bio-mechanical tissue would change things. He’d never before tried to create a human-friendly inholding. The Engineer had consulted with the Bio-mechanic and they’d agreed it could be done and that for the first time, Urban could exist as a physical avatar aboard Dragon , alongside Clemantine and those volunteers, now inbound, who would comprise the ship’s company.

Still, Urban regarded the project as an experiment, one that must advance with great care.

The illustration of the completed warren refreshed to show current progress. The first stage was complete: An enveloping barrier wall now enclosed the site. The wall’s exterior was composed of Chenzeme tissue, with a neutral layer on the inside.

A barrier was essential. If human tissue mixed with Chenzeme, an immune response would be triggered, setting off a new molecular war.

Within the safety of that enclosed space, the warren was just beginning to take shape.

“A basic habitat to start with,” Clemantine said.

Urban nodded. “I want to work out if it’s possible to design a rotating deck, to give us at least a light simulated gravity. But there’s time.”

“Time is something we have in quantity,” she agreed, her words spiced with dark humor.

“Sooth.” A vast expanse of time stretching far ahead of Dragon .

A DI whispered to him that Clemantine’s newest ghost had arrived after the hours-long transit from Long Watch . He watched her face, watched anxiety and worry take over her expression as this new ghost joined its memories to hers. She gazed at him and then looked around, her shoulders slowly relaxing as her two timelines poured into this singular moment.

“So it’s done,” she said. “And here we are.” But whether she spoke in relief or resignation, he couldn’t tell.

“You’ve been busy,” he reminded her, nodding at the projection of the growing warren.

“Yes. We’ll make this work.”

“I hope so.”

She cocked her head. “Are you still worried about our inbound company?”

“Why shouldn’t I worry? These people of the Well—”

“They’re our people,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “Maybe once. But they’re not like us. The people I grew up with never spent time as ghosts—unless things have changed?”

“No. I think that’s still the same.”

He gestured at the projection. “The warren isn’t ready yet. Even when this first phase is done, our living space is going to be small, cramped, dull. This is all an experiment. I can’t risk expanding too quickly.”

“Understood,” she said cautiously. Then added, “This looks similar to the warren aboard Long Watch so it won’t be unfamiliar.”

“We’re only getting two from Long Watch .”

“Riffan Naja and Pasha Andern,” she reminded him.

“Right. And maybe they can handle life in the warren for a time, but there will be others. How are they going to react when they’re faced with the reality here? I don’t want them falling apart because this warren is too small and cramped, while the library overwhelms them. So I’m thinking of holding them in the archive until—”

“ No , Urban.”

“Just until I get the ship fully modified. It’ll be easier for them. Better, if they wake to a secure, comfortable, familiar environment. And they’ll never miss the time away.” He hesitated as a DI whispered another update. “Kona’s here,” he told her.

Kona winked into existence alongside them. He glanced their way, suspiciously eyed the Engineer within his frame, and then turned a swift circle, taking in the blue gradient of an otherwise featureless environment. “Where is this?”

“Ship’s library,” Urban said.

Clemantine continued their debate. “Let them at least instantiate as ghosts,” she insisted. “Then let them choose to enter the archive if that’s what they want. Don’t treat them like toys that you can take out and play with when you get bored.”

“What’s under discussion?” Kona asked.

Clemantine summarized it. Urban, eyes narrowed, prepared his argument, sure that Kona would take her side. But he surprised them both by saying, “Urban is right. No one has been vetted for this company. There wasn’t time. It’s just whoever happened to be in the right place at the right time, in the right mood to make a life-changing decision. Some are going to wake up to what they did and wonder why. So let’s make the transition as easy as—”

“A new ghost is coming in,” Urban interrupted. “I’m shifting it to the archive.” He raised two hands to forestall Clemantine’s objection. “Where it will stay for as short a time as possible, okay?” He turned to Kona. “Could you figure out who these people are? Why they’re here? And if we want them all?”

“Link me to their bios and I’ll look, but it’s been a long time since I was active. It’s unlikely I’ll know most of them.”

“Pasha Andern did the recruiting,” Clemantine reminded them. “She’ll be able to vouch for them.”

Urban gestured at the projection of the proposed habitation. “What I really need is another engineer. Someone experienced and ambitious who can work with my engineer. I want to construct a gee deck if we can.”

Clemantine volunteered to introduce Kona to Dragon and its systems—the same tour she’d taken with Urban when her ghost first arrived to inspect the ship. Urban agreed, admiring how quickly she’d adapted.

After they left the library, the Engineer also withdrew, leaving Urban alone—but only for a moment. Two more Apparatchiks appeared—the Pilot and the Bio-mechanic—each locked in a virtual dimension contained within a frameless window.

Their uninvited appearance suggested trouble.

The Bio-mechanic wore dark green. He floated within a background of motile tissue, looking suspicious and short-tempered as he always did. He’d spent centuries delving into the structure and behavior of Dragon ’s bio-mechanical tissue and devising molecular triggers to control its behavior. Over time, his own behavior had taken on a veneer of contempt and hostility, as if echoing the Chenzeme attitude. He looked at Urban and announced, “She doesn’t trust us.”

Urban cocked his head, eyes narrowed combatively, unwilling to allow the Bio-mechanic to treat Clemantine as an outsider or a threat. He said, “She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t trust me.”

The Pilot shrugged dismissively. Within the frameless rectangle of his window he was a dark, nearly featureless silhouette standing within a detailed, three dimensional star map. “She wants to trust us,” he said. “But within a simulated environment it’s hard to be sure if the maps are real, or if they’re complete.”

Urban drew back, wary now.

The Pilot continued, “She will seek to prove to herself that everything we’ve shown her is real. She will consult with Kona, compare her perceptions to his, and look for inconsistencies that might indicate the absence of some knowledge or history that’s been hidden from her.”