The Retrofit: The Callistar 1.0

Chapter Seven

KIRA

Kira laid awake at night while off the Callistar. She knew it would solve nothing, but her mind raced constantly. Watson attempted to distract her by laying out some of their plans. They were going into deep space, but they would travel through some of the known quadrants before making their leave into the unknown, the uncharted. Morgan should have been involved in the conversation, but the AI seemed to know what her mind lingered on, as if he could read it himself. Morgan left after dropping off her and Max on Maudlin, back to his shore leave. She caught a regular shuttle back to the Eikos with a trader.

A full week passed before she finally returned to the Eikos, mainly to confirm that the supplies she had ordered were being rerouted properly. The Eikos would store some items that required cold storage. A precaution, just in case Quinn turned off power to that part of the ship. Her arrival at the station, and her checks, went without incident. She even chatted with the crew before taking the passage corridor to the Callistar, happy to return home.

Reaching the access door to the Callistar, she found it locked. Not unusual, but when she punched in her entry code, the system denied it.

Then, her override code was denied.

Standing there, hands on her hips, her expression, which had been so pleased at being home, contorted into something between anger and rage. Which for her were completely different emotions.

“Watson?”

I cannot access the ship’s systems.

There was only one person who could be responsible.

“He’s locked me out of my own damn ship.” Her hand came down hard on the freshly fitted metal paneling. Newly reinforced; before it might have buckled, leaving an imprint. The harsher contact prompted a program, a hologram projecting out of the pin pad with various diagrams.

It appeared Quinn had compiled the likely reasons and questions that she might have when she returned to the ship. A shipping manifest of what she’d ordered on there, as well as where each item was currently being stored. A percentage bar for each major system on the ship, showing the current progress. The Reactor at 100%; the engines were at 52%; the rest were all sitting under 20%. Then a timer showing the estimated project completion time, which updated every few seconds.

He’d even built in a query function, so if she had questions not already covered in the report, she could ask them. The only thing she couldn’t do, her furious typing of commands on the screen trying to subvert it, was communicate with the inside of the ship.

Her fingernails bit into the edges of her palms, leaving small crescent moon indents white from the pressure. “I’m going to strangle him.”

That goes against Sir’s orders.

The lack of reply on Kira’s part should have been the first part of a warning to Watson. What was to come… Well, it would not be pretty.

For all that she knew, Quinn may have been angry. He may have misunderstood her, but she also knew he did not understand that there was no fury like a woman scorned. Being denied entry onto her own ship was the last straw, and it threatened to break her own barely established truce. Leaving her stranded on the Eikos’ desert, as there was nothing there for her, was unacceptable. Crawling back to Commander West for quarters was inconceivable. She’d sooner walk on hot coals than that shag carpet again.

Turning on her heel, every footstep became punctuated with the weight of her fury. The Eikos had suites available to be checked out on demand, available for outer repairs on the ring. A sharp right and she entered the small mechanics room nearest to their docking site. One of the staff, a smarmy man, gave her an immediate smile as he rose out of his seat to offer his help.

Put straight back into his seat, Kira exerted a quick pressure on his shoulder and a sharp, “I can help myself,” as she yanked down a bio suit.

The side airlock had two sections, one for dressing and preparing, then an outer for decompression and exit into space. Settling in the first chamber with the neoprene like suit, she drew it up over her waist before she’d begin securing the buckles along the thighs. Thick, heavy loops rested on her hips. Meant for tool storage or supplies to be rigged in, she left them empty.

Drawing the zipper up to her throat, the black fabric fit like a second skin. Reaching onto the wall for the respirator, she attached the inconspicuous black metal triangle to the center of her chest. It created a film with a translucent appearance, not unlike a bubble. The triangle sat there with a sharp point down and the other two pointing at the shoulders. It wrapped the breathing space over the shoulders to encompass the head. Lightweight and invisible to the eye of the one wearing it. If the suit was a second skin, this was the original, so close and moving as she moved. After testing a few breaths to reassure herself of its working order, she felt satisfied enough to enter the decompression chamber.

The outer door reflected her appearance as she stood waiting to leave. It showed her the level of irate calm that possessed her. Her dark hair plastered against her neck, the suit fitted in all areas revealing her shapely figure, but her eyes, the deep pools of amber surrounded by thick lashes, flashed impossibly with fire, glinting. No internal processor needed.

Kira, do you really think you should do this?

“Watson?”

Yes?

“Get out of my head.”

The suit ended in heavy boots containing magnets to attach to an outer hull. Boosters on either side provided propulsion and stabilization. The guidance worked by a built-in controller resting on the forearm, a quick pad system that used single finger movements to direct the amount of force exerted on the bottom of the boot while one moved their feet to direct themself.

Air flooded out. Space flooded in, and she kicked off the edge, heading around to the side of the Callistar, looking for one of the maintenance hatches that were accessible, hoping he’d not thought to change the codes on every entry point. At least if his logs were anything to go by, he had not gotten to fixing them yet.

Clasping the side’s riveting and the handles a quick scan and the door popped open. The smaller compartments had a miniature version of the two-room system but made for only a few souls.

Grumbling as her feet landed, she tugged the door tight behind her, beginning the sealing process. Utilizing the manual system of turning bars, unlike most current ships, what she’d failed to realize was that it had already been upgraded. The hinges automatically retracted, sealing for ease of use, which happened as she leveraged the door back.

Thinking she was in the clear to hit the lock for the hall, she started for the interior door, only to be sucked back out into space. The cold violent wrapping of nothingness pulling her out by the sudden negative pressure flooding inward.

Flying outward, kicking out her feet and hitting the jets, she pushed back towards the side of the ship. A swarm of drones came out of nowhere, surrounding her next to the lock where she landed. A quick glance backwards and…

“I’ll teach you to cut holes in my ship!” She screeched the words while waving a fist at the drones. Knowing how unlikely it was he’d get the message from only that, she included a rather coarse gesture. She hoped they were recording this, capturing her intended vulgarity.

A team of drones with laser cutters huddled outside the newly done hole where she’d been ejected. Two shield emitter drones on either side corrected the atmosphere while four cutters had been used to make the hole; basically a perfect trap. Which meant it was a good thing she’d not yet taken off her environmental suit.

“Child,” she added to her tirade. Maybe Quinn had been playing fair before because he hadn’t actually been angry with her. Maybe this time she had hurt him, and he lashed out like the child she labeled him as, inarguably overreacting in the extreme. It showed why Toke had given up on trying to get to know Quinn in any capacity. He may have been a pacifist, but he was a pacifist with an army of drones.

She returned to the Eikos mechanic station. The same grimy worker attempted to rise out of his seat. He got the same treatment he had the first time. Ripped two stun guns off of the wall, inserting one into the side loops, she hit up the security panel next. Counting on the fact that his drones weren’t specifically shielded against an EMP, she hoped it would put them out of service until he could replace the internal chargers. But betting on his ability to quickly adapt, she’d bring true projectiles. Kira hit a switch on the one still out and ejected a magazine out the bottom. Previously empty, she took dummy projectiles loading them in one by one, each a heavy rubber-like ball. A quick adjustment to the setting and the rifling in the barrel clicked into place.

Her aim would have to be very exact to not cause the sort of damage one wished to avoid in space. Toke made sure she’d not been brought up to be anything but excellent at meeting expectations in all fields. Firing a phaser took very little skill, firing ammunition with accuracy took true sighting.

He’d caught her off guard once, she wouldn’t let him do it again. Piloting towards one of the farthest entrances, betting he’d assume she’d go for the next one on the line, she mentally continued her tirade. Activating the mag boots on the outside, she flung open the hatch, deactivated the boots, and went through like a submarine sailor tossing herself feet first until she plopped on the ground in the artificial gravity.

Her left side held the modified bullets, her right hand scooped the handle of the regular phaser, setting the stun into place and taking a defensive posture, she proceeded. She did not dare to deactivate her suit. Not trusting Quinn, pacifist or not, enough to think he’d care if she could breathe or not. This time, she made it out of the decompression room.

The same setup as before approached her. Laser cutters and shield emitters, both the octopus-like drones that floated with the specific attachments on their long appendages. A ball joint inside each one allowed them to move almost organically, except for the fact they could twist any section in a 360 degree movement.

Ducking behind a ballast, it was no contest as she let loose a few shots. Each drone deactivated. The satisfying thunk of metal on metal as they collapsed made her smile. She stepped proudly over them until shell-shocked into silence the shield emitters suddenly had her by her arms, putting her in a crucifixion-like position, locking them out thrusting her bodily out of the ship again.

You should return to the Eikos.

“Like hell I will.”

Kira, be reasonable, what are you even going to do if you can get to him?

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

Blowing a puff of air to push away a stray piece of hair, it remained locked in place, unshifting because of the sleek design of the emitter she wore. A few more quick blows followed out of irritation. Retreating to the Eikos for a second to rethink her plan, Watson remained blissfully quiet while she did so.

She considered destroying his drones. The action felt appropriate. The complete calm that settled over her as she enacted a new plan was… well, a bad sign. Grabbing tools from a welding crew- they’d almost refused to lend them to her, but the look she gave them of pure determination inspired second thoughts. It instilled a terror by design almost like she’d touched them physically.

Shoving back into space, she grumbled, and Watson chose only to give a warning about the equipment she utilized.

She didn’t even make it to the ship.

The drones flocked out the moment she came close enough for a life sign to be detected drifting toward the Callistar that couldn’t be on the Eikos. They zipped out in a swarm. She fired off a few shots but, especially in space where she wasn’t particularly maneuverable, she wasn’t able to stop them before eight got into formation and created a shield cube. Quinn literally put her in a box.

Then, her communicator toggled on like Watson meant to talk to her, but it was Quinn’s voice. The man sounded as angry as she felt.

“What, the buggering fek, is wrong with you? I try to be nice and you throw it in my face and laugh at me. Now, you are distracting me from my work, so you can what? Prove to me you can get aboard the ship? Let me guess, because it’s your ship? Well, I don’t give a shite. Just leave me the fek alone. Let me finish my work, and I’ll just stay in my fekking room until you find my planet and it will all be over. You never have to see me again. So please just leave me the hell alone.”

Towards the end of his impassioned speech, she could hear the anger fading to hurt as he lost his accent too.. He just sounded tired, depressed, and done with everything.

“I made one joke at your expense and you’ve decided to absolutely lock me out?” Talking back she wasn’t even sure he was still on the line. “Are you so absolutely unable to understand even the smallest nuances of conversation with others that you couldn’t tell it was friendly banter?”

She managed to be civil enough to not raise her voice the octave it wanted to go to. But it felt like admonishing a toddler that taking someone else’s things was wrong. If he understood others well enough, he would have heard the tension in her voice, the tightness, the heavy breath that came as she kept control of herself. Banging her fist against one of his drones, she turned off the communicator for just a moment to continue her barrage of words that he definitely would not understand.

Watson still had access- she didn’t keep him out- and he came across with a soft Kira you should just let this one be.

“Shove it Watson.” Lashing out at him, even if it wasn’t his fault, was unfair. She had no control of the knee jerk reaction. She’d feel bad for it later.

Quinn clicked back on in a voice unknown to her, the inflections were gone, the emotions were gone. It sounded like she was talking to an A.I. that lacked a personality module. The only reason she knew it was Quinn was the smoothness of his voice. Even the best A.I. had some processing in their voice without a module. “I was raised in a lab. Anyone that was too friendly with me was fired. Paradigm was worried interpersonal connections would inhibit my growth as an asset. I was not a person. I was an experiment.

“So no, I don’t understand the subtle nuance, as you call it. Such things were considered unnecessary to my directives. However, people have proven to be a constant disappointment to me, so I do not feel particularly bothered by this. I made a sincere effort, and you mocked me for it. I would like to be left alone, Captain Starling. Please respect my decision. As previously stated, once the ship is complete, you can have full access back. I will remain in my room until you find me a suitable planet and our business will be completed permanently. I do not think asking you to find other lodgings while I work is an unreasonable request. If you continue to persist, I will break my deal with Toke and find someone more willing to be reasonable.”

“Stars Quinn.” Relaxing her hand against the drone she just touched, Kira spread her fingers wide arching the tops of each one back until the tips drew down. Softly, she said, “Just don’t do anything to Watson’s systems. Please.”

She begged. It wasn’t a request. It was a very odd, strangled, ask that he would not mess with him. If he did, he would learn his true origin. If he made even the smallest change, he could destroy him. Quinn was updating all systems, but Watson was the one that needed to stay exactly the same.

Watson could hear them both, but he did not comment upon it.

“The Digitized Praetorian Consciousness you’ve designated Watson will not be harmed. The last step in the retrofit will be reconnecting him to the ship’s new systems. He may be pleased to learn that this will include the new drone bay for emergency external repairs, reactor maintenance, and general maintenance, as this will give him some physical agency once again. By personal choice, I have decided to do no further harm, as I have seen the purpose many of my inventions have been turned to. I consider digitized consciousnesses to be a valid form of life just as any other.”

That voice of his remained placid, but there’d been a break in it. She heard that small fracture when he mentioned his inventions. She knew Paradigm was responsible, but he felt guilt. The mental abuse weighed heavily upon him, that much was clear. Neglect could be as harmful to a person’s psyche as anything else. Combine that neglect with knowing you had played a role in countless deaths? It was little wonder he wasn’t good with people.

She realized the depth to which she had wounded the man on the other end of the communicator. It had been a joke to her. For him it had been yet another time an attempt to connect with a person had ended with pain.

“I’ll take your silence as confirmation that you find this agreement equitable. Thank you for your cooperation.”

The shields clicked off, and the drones retreated, Kira floated alone, drifting in the void of space.

Are you alright?

“I feel like you should be asking him that.”

I’m not worried about him.

Adjusted the aim on the control pad, the thrusters kicked to life. She had supplies that needed to be returned to the Eikos. She let out a shudder at the idea of having to arrange quarters under West and instead sought the station’s quartermaster. Arrangements were made with a little bribing to keep the room under a different name.

QUINN

Quinn found, on the third day after she’d taken up residence on the Eikos, that his drone came back with a little paper sack instead of the usual food tray. With the bag under the thin wrapping rested a box of chocolate-covered almonds with sea salt wrapped and tied in a neat bow.

He met it with a frown. He eyed the treat for a moment, then opted to open the paper sack. Par for the course, there was a sandwich. No note or anything. Just a plain thing that had some sort of mixture in it. The sandwich smelled vaguely fishy, but not in a bad way. The chemical analysis showed eggs, mayonnaise, and pickles.

He chose not to respond, giving no message of thanks this time. The bag and box were returned to her room neatly folded. Not quite forgiveness but he did, in his own way, say that he understood that it was meant to be an olive branch.

The next day was the same: the generic meal the Eikos provided, then a bag lunch from Kira, and a snack of some sort. The Eikos crew only sent what was of nutritional value with nothing special. Kira usually did earth inspired food, but occasionally she would give him something alien yet certainly edible.

On the third day after she started the deliveries, Quinn pinged her communicator with a single verbal message: “Thank you, your food tastes better than what Eikos provides.”

The following day, his lunch included a handwritten note on the sack itself. “Any preferences?”

His response came at an odd hour. They usually did. He didn’t treat his body well, often ignoring its physical demands far longer than he should. “No.”

After several minutes passed, another response came. “Not being difficult, I haven’t tried many things.”

Trying to peaceably make amends in some regards, even if it was beyond him why he was doing so, he kept busy to ignore analyzing it.

The next night, with his supper, sat an insulated silver cup with a mixture of sugar, water, cream, and crushed vanilla beans, a straw beside it and another note. “Had to sneak this one out.”

Quinn returned the silver cup to her in the evening via drone. It had been cleaned so thoroughly, she could see her reflection. A note left in the cup.

‘Thanks.’

Later, when he retired for the day he decided to ask reopening a line of communication audibly, “Is there anything you would like to know about the status of the ship?”

“No,” she said softly in return.

He didn’t disconnect right away.

“I trust your work,” she continued.

“Okay, thank you.” He’d paused before saying it, then the communicator went silent. He manually flipped it off.

Sometimes he’d get something special with lunch, sometimes with dinner. In one package, she threw together some snickerdoodle cookies. His readout said she’d substituted cinnamon, but found a suitable replacement.

Quinn felt mildly confused about Kira. The woman had hurt him deeply. He respected her obvious pride, and once they’d reached an easy truce, he started feeling a bit more at ease. He felt terrified of letting people in. People either left him, by choice or force, or betrayed him. Underneath the layers of rough Irish accent and sarcasm was just a lonely kid who’d been hurt so often he hid himself underneath a layer of surly anger just to keep people away.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he wanted a friend. So when Kira had laughed at his attempt at being polite, it had felt like a betrayal. His natural response was to curl in on himself, covering himself in spikes, to keep everyone at bay. Yet here remained that woman, against all odds, getting through his spikes and, well... he wasn’t actually sure if she felt sorry for what she did. Nor could he even guess what she was trying to do now. So the next note she got from him was simple and to the point. One word, with punctuation, “Why?”

He did not get one back at lunch, but when dinner came around, he found a sheet of paper tucked up under a bar of chocolate. “The Vicar taught me that there is always more than meets the eye to everyone. I think there’s more to you, too.”

He didn’t reply, besides his normal thank you, for several long days. He could think on several things at once, but he pushed off his thoughts about her choosing to keep her intentions unknown. Then, one evening, her communicator clicked on, and Watson and Kira both found themselves on the line.

“I’m sending a few sets of rough schematics for a drone body. This one will have a quantum computer core capable of housing Watson’s entire consciousness if required, but it can also be piloted as a primary body. Let me know which one you would like, and what features you want me to include.

The line clicked dead and both of them received an alert that of a rather large data package being transferred. Quinn included a variety of options. Simply put it was essentially a build your own body kit. He included options for polymer skin with haptic feedback. This gave Watson the option of having a full human android shell. It wasn’t, strictly speaking, getting his body back, but it would mean he could feel and act like a man again.

He found a full cake with his dinner which Kira had attempted to ice with the words ‘thank you’. Kira’s attempt to present a clear message shown in the smudges of icing smeared across the top. Quinn could guess just how many times she had erased the words and began again.

It won her quite a few points. Mostly because one of his few fond memories was a lab assistant sneaking a slice in on his “birthday.” The nice young woman had been a lab assistant, and she’d been celebrating her own. Quinn had asked about the colorful birthday hat she’d been wearing and she’d explained birthdays to him. When he’d informed her he did not have one, she left, got him a piece of cake, and told him he could share hers.

The cake had tasted good, but the display of humanity had kept the memory.

She’d been terminated once they analyzed his stool and found abnormal sugar levels.

People with more power than the singular kind soul took what humanity was freely given away.

When he uncovered a note inviting him to an actual meal, he simply didn’t respond. Two days later, Kira’s communicator dinged again. This time there were no words, just an alphanumeric string which he knew she could deduce was the new access code for the door of the Callistar. Going into the station would be too much for him, but he was willing to let her come back into the ship.

KIRA

This is an entire build.

Watson turned off his emoting. His voice lacked the normal inflection he usually attempted to relay- that all A.I.’s relayed in order to make their voice more personable. Kira knew he did so when he didn’t want to display how he felt.

The schematics were splashed across the display. The program presented the framework for building an entire android form, as if one were selecting character features from an old human style video game. It made it incredibly simple for Kira, but it was not her decision what he looked like.

“But not flesh and blood.”

It’s close. Better even, less destructible, more capable.

The emotionless nature in the way he said that made her shiver. Had he really been a part of the system that long? He didn’t have eyes in her quarters, so he couldn’t see her shake. He constantly tracked her vitals. As he did, everyone on the crew could see some synaptic feedback to reconfirm their status. But other than knowing their general location because of his tracking, he could not see her shrug, or nod, or several other more finite movements.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she flipped through some options, waving her hand at some configurations for the computer to stow them for consideration. Mainly standard looks that were put together by the algorithm. She paused on one that looked akin to Morgan. Was that on purpose? The two hadn’t met each other, but he’d probably had access to his file. Her file as well, no matter how much it lacked.

“These look so real.”

This isn’t new technology, just expensive. I saw them on Praetoria. No one could tell a difference unless they ripped off an arm.

“I thought most of the higher class preferred clones?”

Some prefer these. They keep the consciousness in a small disk that they insert into the spine. It is heavily protected, and almost impossible to destroy. Therefore, it is safer and has less risk of mental degradation.

A tightness blossomed. Life was meant to be lived and felt. A program simulating life made her nervous. Pinpointing the exact reason was impossible. Beneath all those gears and mechanizations was a consciousness, but how much existed from the original?

It will be like flesh and blood still and operate the same.

Watson took advantage of the silence. Kira looked up at the ceiling, tossing a small ball into the void, allowing it to rise and fall. The sound of the ball smacking her hand carrying.

Kira…?

“Hmm?”

Say something. Please.

Kira nearly popped off with a sarcastic retort, but stopped herself, frowning. “You still deserve a physical body.”

And how am I supposed to get one?

“I’ve been putting back almost all of my wages.”

The ball smacked back into her hand before she tossed it upward again.

That’s what you’ve been saving for?

Smack.

“Mhm.”

Smack.

Kira?

Smack.

“Mhm?”

Smack.

Nevermind.

Kira caught the ball, holding it firm in hand. With a quick decision, she threw her feet down and gathered what little belongings she’d taken off the ship when she’d left to meet with Toke. It took all of five minutes before she was ready to return. She had no intention of being off the Callistar long, so her luggage had been the bare minimum.