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KahDeeLee had become more or less the leader of the prisoners. Which was a misery on top of all the other miseries. The raiders had put them in honest-to-fuck cages, with bars and padlocks and everything, not even enough room to stand up. The only thing KahDee could do was to try to talk the others through their screaming and crying, and what they really, really wanted to do was to tell everyone to fuck off so they could scream and cry themselves.
They had dreamed of being Dock Technical Supervisor one day. Little bit of authority, little bit of hard credit in addition to company scrip, little bit of prestige to draw in the guys and gals. Not that KahDee ever planned to push anyone into sex, they had seen enough miserable slimeballs try that, but it couldn't hurt their dating life to have a few ad-skipping privileges and beer in their fridge that wasn't canoe-fucking wretched. And then the raiders had showed up, and now KahDee was in a position of authority, sort of, and it fucking sucked and KahDee was wishing they had never wished anything. And some of the dock workers had been beaten, and some of them were unconscious, and KahDee was useless. Couldn't help them. Completely surplus to requirements. The others could be dying, brain bleeds or whatever fucking things, and KahDee couldn't help.
The thing was, KahDee was augmented. Not anything really useful, it had only cost ten years (creeping closer to twenty with interest) and they didn't know anything about hacking or writing code or anything that would help here—but they could hear the raider's ship. The bot seemed to be having a breakdown. SecSystem, which was almost as beefy and hostile as the Dock SecSystem, kept slapping it down. If there was a way to work around SecSystem to do anything, KahDee sure couldn't figure it out.
But then, KahDee had been a Dock Technician Second Class and not good for much of anything.
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
It was going to keep fucking doing that. It was going to keep fucking doing for as long as they were in realspace. Unless KahDee shut down their feed reception, they were going to have to hear it do that for as long as they were in realspace.
And they didn't want to shut down their feed reception, because a few of the cameras were old enough and shit enough to just tell the whole ship their business, rather than reporting to SecSystem and the captain the way they should have. KahDee was listening to a person talking to someone that they thought was maybe the cargomaster—well, for a certain value of "cargomaster" that included people in cages stacked three high. You know we can't get a good price from the scam farm anymore. They've got new bots.
If they've got new bots, why aren't they smarter? All my fuck-ass mail all the fuck-ass time, click here to contest the bill of five thousand credits for, I don't know, a fuck-ass exercycle or something. Who even clicks links?
Nah, the new bots are the ones that take over when you click or something. They get all in your system. Not just money, info. Anyway I don't think the scam farm will buy any of them but the wireheads, and we got, what, three?
Well, that answered the question of where KahDee might be going. Didn't mean anything for the others, though, and that was the question that the dock workers were screaming at KahDee the most. The young guys—the two nineteen-year-olds—were the most panicked. They thought it was sex trafficking. The company had happily advertised the station brothel as the ultimate Free Market answer to sex trafficking; if people had access to ComfortUnits, then obviously the demand for humans would simply dry up and blow away. KahDee wasn't so sure. TemRegal Lovelies Emporium was pricey as fuck. KahDee had done all the regular schooling videos, including the economic module, which was called Corporations: A Study in Progress and Freedom. They remembered some of it, even if they had deliberately flunked that track by using the answer bubbles to draw a dripping cock (or at least tried to, the stupid test wouldn't let you select more than one answer per question). If the price of a human "product" was less than you'd have to pay for a construct, then market forces would make people keep kidnapping humans. And never mind that the Emporium certified that all the constructs were having fun at this (unless you payed a lot extra).
The ultimate point being—KahDee couldn't swear to Rello and Tan that they weren't going to be sold to some kind of rape mill.
Maybe they should lie anyway.
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
Which would be better? To get Rello and Tan braced for it, or tell them that they were on their way to—shit, what would sound more or less survivable? A farm planet where you picked luxury vegetables for shareholders too high and mighty for printed food? KahDee had no idea what farm planets were like. Presumably it wasn't that much harder than dock work. It'd still be a no-lube reaming to do it in chains, though.
Would they use chains? Or just some sort of implant that blew your head off? The fact that the raiders were using fucking cages implied that nobody was using anything more sophisticated than they had to.
So when are we going to do the tonguing? the person asked the cargomaster.
Tonguing is stupid anyway, they can all write. Probably. Pretty stupid-looking ones in this haul.
Yeah, but I like seeing 'em figure out what's going to happen to them.
You're fucked in the head, Emar. It's a fucking business, not your own personal sicko game.
Yeah, you just really like to lie to yourself, don't you?
No, I like getting paid. Helps me eat and stuff. Doesn't go any beyond that.
Oh, fuck. No. No, KahDee wasn't passing that along. Not at all. In fact, KahDee was, momentarily at least, completely rigid with panic.
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
The bot was sounding panicked too. The bot—
»»» Assistance request: Medical Emergency On Board
»»» Action: Describe Emergency
»»» Request cancelled: No Medical Emergency Detected
That was something new. Someone new? Hang on, had KahDee actually been listening to the bot trying to contact someone outside the ship? Another ship, maybe?
»»» Action: Grant Access for Malware Scan
»»» Request: Refused
KahDee almost thought it would have done it if SecSystem hadn't landed on it so hard. They winced.
And then covered their ears, uselessly, and screamed. The feed went incandescent white. All of it. THAT WAS NOT A REQUEST, CARGO BOT 25837281.
The cages of captives were almost silent, now, and KahDee slowly lowered their hands from their ears. "Boss?" Rello choked.
"Sorry," KahDee said, before remembering the stupid leadership seminar which said that a supervisor never apologizes and that was why they hadn't made Technician First Class yet. "Something really weird in the feed—listen, I'm going to try to see if I can talk to it." Hello?
Now we're getting somewhere. Identify yourself.
Um, I'm a captive in the hold of a raider transport, my name is KahDeeLee. I'm—
I have your location. Meanwhile, the bot was chattering incoherently to itself, reporting emergency after emergency, with report after report going nowhere. Stop screaming, I'm not hurting you, the whatever-it-was added to the bot.
It was doing something, though. A complete malware scan, KahDee thought—as deep it was in the bot's systems already, that might not be the only thing. Are you—are you from a different ship?
You could say that. KahDeeLee, assistance is on its way. There will be a short delay.
Are you calling the police? Please tell me you're calling the police.
A document appeared in KahDee's mailbox. The document title was financial6, but the mail title was, "Record of police bribes paid by Raider Ship Lucky Streak (a.k.a Lumen, a.k.a. Lorette, a.k.a.…)" The list went on for a while, but for some reason all of the possible registry names (all from different stations) began with L. Oh, KahDee said, and then, shit.
In the camera, the cargomaster had just gotten a message from the captain. Captain, we're already half full—look, I don't see—okay, that's a dream of a cargo manifest, but I don't see that we can fit all that in the holds—I don't see why we have to knock over every fat unarmed cargo transport we see—but you don't want me to space the bio-cargo? Normally that's the first thing you tell me to do when you see a new—no, I didn't mean to backtalk—don't threaten me, you need me and you know it.
KahDee felt cold. Um, supervisor, captain, whatever you are—I think they just locked onto another ship. And I'm really worried that it might be you.
That would be the delay. Please inform your fellow captives that panic is unnecessary and they will be released shortly.
But they're going to raid someone else—if it's not you, you've got to warn them, and if it is you, you've got to get away—I mean what the fuck would you call this, if it isn't a reason to panic?
Enrichment. Please stand by.
KahDee was silent for a moment. Then, to the other passengers, "I think the bot got a message through to another ship's captain? I don't know what they're going to do, but—at least someone knows we're here. They say not to panic." KahDee wasn't quite ready to add that someone would come get them. That was a little too much hope all at once.
There was no way to separate the flood of questions into coherence, and anyway, KahDee was dealing with something else. The bot pilot was doing the equivalent of huddling under KahDee's nonexistent bed and shivering.
Query: Physical/data damage? That was what KahDee would have asked a lifter bot or a tugbot, anyway.
»»» Physical damage null
»»» Data damage null
»»» Command program removed: CommunicationBlock
»»» Command program removed: SensorBlock
»»» Command program removed: SecSystemAutoOverride
»»» Command program removed: NameProtocolOverride
»»» System efficiency: 93%
»»» Time since comparable system efficiency: 642 cycles
»»» Anomalous contact
»»» Anomalous contact
»»» Anomalous contact
»»» Anomalous contact
Okay, okay,KahDee sent. Calm down, Lucky Streak. In other words, it was suddenly free of various programs the raiders had imposed on it, and feeling better than it had in almost two years, but also what the absolute fuck was that.
»»» Identification: 25837281.
KahDee frowned. And you like that better than Lucky Streak.
»»» Identification: 25837281
»»» Identification 25837281: Original identification
»»» Original Model: KelVeTar TJ 20 Cargo Hauler Certified For Non-Biological Cargo Only, Additional Chemical Class 3 Safety Certification
»»» Original Model = Original Identification
Smart bot, KahDee thought. Probably overly sentimental to interpret that as, I liked my name better when it meant Honest Cargo Hauler and not Property of Sadistic Raider Scum. They always warned you about anthropomorphizing bots. And people always teased wireheads about it, all do you want to date it, and, the forklift isn't going to fuck you, when all you said was that it was sick and tired of the clicking in its left rear wheel and could somebody please take a look?
They shouldn't be feeling like they were out of danger, though. The not-Lucky Streak raiders were going to try and board a ship. Which meant guns and hull breaches—or, if the ship surrendered, big stomping power armor and at least a dozen raiders, all heavily armed. If everyone was lucky it was an unmanned transport. If they weren't…
If it was the person who had contacted KahDee, then there were people on board. They still weren't sure if that had been the captain or someone else, but definitely a person, not a bot. Bots didn't talk like that.
Although, people didn't do whatever-the-fuck to the feed and to the bot pilot. It had to be a person working very closely with a bot, then. Almost certainly augmented.
KahDee waited. And waited. Distantly, they heard a clunk of an airlock connecting, then stomping armor rushing out in what the captain probably imagined was military discipline, but sounded more like a herd of some kind of hooved and vaguely cow-shaped animal, the kind you saw on nature shows with names like "bison" or "wildebeest."
"What're they doing?" Tan said nervously.
KahDee didn't want to answer. "I think they're raiding a transport."
"I thought you said there was help coming."
"I don't know. Maybe not yet, I don't know. Let me try something." Bot Pilot 25 etc, can you tell what's happening?
»»» Identification: 25837281
You're going to make me say the whole thing every time? You know that's not as easy for humans as for you guys, right?
»»» Information: Previous human nickname Taja, last used 720 cycles ago
Okay, Taja. Can you tell me what's happening?
»»» Former captain status: Communication Lost
»»» Former first mate status: Communication Lost
»»» Former second mate status: Communication Lost
It went on for a while. Last known position of crew members with status: communication lost? KahDee asked Taja finally.
»»» Personnel identification update: Former Captain, Former First Mate, Former…
Okay, okay, I get it, you got your system reverted or something and they're not the boss of you. Where were they when they cut out, though?
»»» Location: Transport Pegasus
The other transport, KahDee said. They thought distantly that Pegasus was a star somewhere, but someone had also once said it was a fable about hubris and not jumping on top of something if you weren't sure you could handle it? Probably the transport was named after the star. And—and you lost contact with all of them…
The camera near the cargomaster's station recorded someone say, Who the fuck are— and then a thud. KahDee fumbled for the camera's visual.
Oh. Well, that was probably the cargomaster.
That was, at least, most of the cargomaster. KahDee felt a little numb. The video glitched slightly, and there was a bloody boot-print that they hadn't seen before.
From there, though, things started to move at least somewhat quickly. Two people, not raiders, came into the hold and started unlocking cages. KahDee was immediately deputized to escort shaky and bruised prisoners to the other transport. One of the people (their feed address said Eden, but not much of anything else) hoisted the unconscious ones. The other one, a dark-haired man whose feed address read Ardeshir, chose to direct traffic.
KahDee was certain that they were talking in the feed, and doing it fast, too. Sometimes you could tell. Ardeshir—that probably wasn't his real name—had a dataport, which meant that he might have processing speed augments. And Eden—that probably wasn't their real name—might have something else as well, although maybe they were just very athletic and vaguely military and answered most questions by directing an intent, slightly haunted stare right past you until Ardeshir took mercy on you and gave you something that sort of added up to an answer. Kind of. A bit. The ship was called the Pegasus, yes, and the raiders were no longer an issue, and everything else was proprietary data.
And after they had all been cleared medically, the plan was to send them to the nearest non-raided station with Taja. "Won't it just follow its last orders and take us to the raider base?" Rello wondered fearfully, half-hiding behind KahDee.
"That's been taken care of," Ardeshir said.
KahDee felt compelled to speak up. "Are you going to wipe and reprogram it?"
Ardeshir gave them a sharp look, but before he could say something, Eden said, "Why do you ask?"
It was the first thing they had said. KahDee had somehow expected a more intimidating voice. It wasn't that Eden looked dangerous, it was just—somehow, they did look dangerous, and KahDee couldn't put a finger on why.
"I'm hoping we can get through without doing that. It was—" Maybe fellow wireheads wouldn't mock them for it. "Brave."
Neither of them exactly looked at a person, but somehow KahDee was the full focus of the attention all the same.
"I mean. All it could do was call for help, and it kept being stopped from doing that, but—it didn't stop. For a bot, doesn't that kind of qualify as brave?"
There was a silence, then Eden said, "Not just for a bot," and turned around, and strode ahead of them, carrying the unconscious form of Shift Foreman Deltz. KahDee had always mildly despised Shift Foreman Deltz, who was the sort of person who ate bright orange sriracha Ched-o-Puffs with his mouth open because he didn't care who was uncomfortable seeing that shit, but fuck it, they were all in this together now, when they got to a station KahDee would buy him three bags of the fucking things.
It took more than six hours to treat everyone. Pegasus was a sleek, modern transport with a state-of-the-art medbay, and KahDee couldn't get a straight answer on how much this would cost them. And they didn't see anyone besides Ardeshir and Eden, either. When Deltz woke up, he whispered, "Who the fuck are these guys?" to KahDee, and KahDee just shook their head.
At length, wanting at least a hint of what the fuck they had gotten into, KahDee wandered away from the medbay.
The lights in the halls came on as you walked towards them—some of the lights, anyway. KahDee skipped some possible passages because they stayed dark, and there was something subtly creepy about the whole place. They wished they had brought someone along. Maybe they should go back.
Maybe they should absolutely go back.
Hopefully the lights would still come on when KahDee tried to get back.
KahDee took a door almost at random, and found themselves in a large, mostly unlit cargo bay, and then screamed.
Power armor. Multiple sets of power armor. The raiders' power armor, in fact, standing absolutely still, neatly lined up in two rows of eight. Sixteen raiders. The entire boarding party, the number of raiders it had taken to subdue all of TemRegal station. They had only scooped the dockworkers because that was all the space they had—but KahDee had briefly seen one armored figure take out an entire armed team of police.
They weren't moving, though.
Inert.
The reflective faceplates were down.
Which meant that KahDee couldn't tell if there were still people in there.
If there were people in there, they would move. If there were people in there, they would activate weapons. There couldn't be people in there.
Unless there was some way to take over power armor.
Unless there was some way to take over raiders.
KahDee and the dock workers might have been stuck in the cages in the cargo hold, but what if there were worse kinds of cages?
KahDee jumped and almost screamed again as a human figure flashed into existence right in front of the power armor—but, no, it was a hologram, the lighting subtly off in the dimness of the cargo hold. Old-fashioned academic sort of clothing, the sort you'd see in an extremely tedious film about a literature professor doing brainy things. KahDee preferred spooky movies that gave you at least one jump scare and a sense of creeping dread—actually, maybe KahDee didn't. Maybe KahDee preferred dumb-as-fuck Romance channel movies about a hard-driven supervisor who came back to his home planet for a culturally relevant holiday and fell for some plain-spoken muscular woman who cut down trees or something. Maybe KahDee preferred movies that had no scares whatsoever. "Who the fuck are you?"
"I'm the captain of the Pegasus, of course. Please do not be alarmed." The smile that accompanied that was…alarming. And there was no part of those sentences which hadn't sounded sarcastic. The voice was the same as KahDee had "heard" in the feed, addressing Taja, but this time it came from all around, surround-sound with a touch of reverb.
"Okay. Okay, but these—the raiders—"
"The raiders are no longer your concern."
"But—what the fuck happened? Why are they here? What—"
"What you are looking at," the captain said, "is your fee, which I understand you have been worried about. The circuitry and parts from these suits are quite valuable. If you and your cohort cede any claim on them, we will not pursue any claim for medical supplies or assistance rendered. Does that seem equitable?"
There had to be a catch, didn't there? Was there a catch? "We—we'll trade you the suits for rescue and supplies. Yeah. But—"
"But?" The captain prompted mockingly when KahDee didn't go on.
"But are they still in there."
"You are the only living thing here."
They meant in the hold. They meant, KahDee told themself firmly, that they were somewhere else, communicating via hologram. That was definitely, absolutely what they meant. That was what they meant. There was nothing to freak out about. Nothing to freak out about. Nothing…
Ships with—entities—who maybe weren't quite human, or quite alive—those weren't a real thing. The fact that Eden seemed weirdly strong, and Ardeshir looked like he hadn't even walked past an ultraviolet lamp in years—that did't mean anything. The footprint that had appeared on the glitchy camera, as if someone didn't show up on video—that didn't mean anything. The fact that there seemed to be only three people on board didn't mean anything. There was no such thing as ghosts and ghouls and vampires and whatnot, and transports ran empty all the time.
Not usually transports that were this big, though, or this obviously intended for crew. Where had the rest of the crew gone?
"Upon consideration, I think it may be necessary to add one more item to your fee."
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, "What's that?" fuck fuck fuck fuck…
"Let me suggest that if you suddenly feel the impulse to give descriptions or details about your rescuers to the authorities—you may find that you don't want to do that after all."
"Yeah," KahDee squeaked, "that seems fair."
"Follow the lit corridors back to the medbay. And, KahDeeLee?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't wander off."
KahDeeLee fled.
They ran most of the way back to medbay. They hoped the captain wasn't watching them, and felt certain that they were. Taja, they asked, as they tried desperately to compose themself before walking in where the others were, are you all right?
»»» System efficiency: 95%
Oh, that's good. Have there been any more. KahDee swallowed. Anomalous contacts.
»»» Anomalous contact: Null
»»» Anomalous entity status: Observing
And KahDee had wanted some fucking reassurance for a change. Can you take us all to a safe destination if I get the others back on board?
»»» System capability: Yes
»»» System intentionality: Yes
Oh, good. Thank you, Taja. Listen, if I ever get another dock job you are gonna get premium service every time you show up, okay?
»»» Information: Positively Received
Taja—do you know what the fuck these people are?
»»» Anomalous entity status: Unknown
»»» Anomalous entity identity: Unknown
»»» Anomalous entity capability: Analysis Returns Almost Certain Errors, Capabilities Unprecedented
»»» Anomalous entity actions: Rescue(Physical), Rescue(Mental), Rescue(Situational), Rescue(Significant Human Entities), Rescue(Multiple)
It was right, KahDee thought. It was right, but fuck all the deities, they still didn't want to be here longer than necessary. Still fucking scary though.
»»» Analysis: No Errors In Statement Detected
Taja, KahDee thought, was a pretty smart bot.