Chapter 10 #4
“Vessel, you might wish to do some of that breathing meditation,” Yan said. “You are growing flustered for no apparent reason. I am only spying on the movements and actions of your AI; I cannot read your thoughts.” Yan paused. “Or can I?”
Jesi and Tev were both leaning over Yan’s shoulders, staring intently at the computer screen.
Ishtan and Eli instead focused on Iris’s face, which flustered him even more and deepened his already growing flush.
Besieged on all sides, Iris had no choice but to follow Yan’s suggestion.
He closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and followed the oxygen as it flowed from his lungs to his heart, to his arteries and veins, until it tingled through his extremities and filled them with vitality.
Once he was calm, VIFAI projected the three-dimensional map of the Nicaea to the forefront of his mind.
“Thank you, Mr. Vessel’s AI,” Yan sang. “Now I am going to ask you to trace the entire map, pixel by pixel, if you would. I know it sounds awful, but it’s the only sure way to get an accurate rendition. Don’t worry about slowing down; my machine over here can handle your speed.”
The map ignited with a pulsing light before Iris’s eyelids. He focused on his exhale. Out went the used-up air from his lungs, from every last nook of his capillaries, from the veins, and the arteries. He finished his exhale and held it. By the time Iris breathed in again, the flashing had stopped.
“Perfect,” Yan exclaimed.
“You’re finished?” Iris asked, rubbing his eyes.
I can work much faster when I interface with something electronic, VIFAI explained.
“Yeah, my computer works faster than your brain, Vessel,” Yan said.
I’m still not fond of you.
“I’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”
It was disorienting, to witness a conversation that was happening without him, between VIFAI and a stranger, a jarring reminder that the construct was separate from him, able to interact with others without Iris’s intervention.
Iris extended his thoughts towards the inorganic consciousness, wishing to hear what the AI and the engineer were discussing, but he was met with an impermeable wall.
The realisation that his companion’s thoughts would forever be protected while his own were there for the taking left him feeling exposed.
If his mind was there for the taking, there were no more places left to hide.
When Iris finally looked at the computer screen, he saw an identical map to the one in his mind traced in white against the black of the background.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Jesi breathed.
“And that’s why I’m the second youngest person to ever get tenure in my faculty.”
“Yet, not the youngest,” Jesi said, sotto voce.
Ignoring her, Yan asked VIFAI, “Can you trace the most direct path from where we are to deck ten and”—Yan traced the air with his index finger, as if following some unseen guide—“deck eight, segment nine, unit six or seven, I can’t remember. You’ll be able to tell on the map.”
The pulsing flashing returned, and Iris lost his vision for a moment while VIFAI traced the path, pixel by pixel. Blinking furiously, Iris said, “I would greatly appreciate it if you would warn me, engineer Yan.”
“Here’s your warning. Can you mirror the path?”
The flashing continued, and this time, Iris failed to focus on his breathing and blankly watched the cavalcade of lights as they danced and flickered behind his eyelids. Despite their superficial beauty, he still felt used. His mood soured substantially.
“And done,” Yan said, clapping his hands together with a satisfying smack! “Now if everyone would just hold their applause, I present to you, our own, perfectly translated map of the Nicaea.”
“That piece of the wall didn’t render,” Tev said, pointing to the screen. “And I think this is supposed to be a staircase.”
Almost perfectly translated, VIFAI said, and Iris shrugged it off, more irritated than he would have liked to admit. You’re jealous.
How long have you been shutting me out? The irritation and confusion carried through Iris’s thoughts.
As long as you have. Or did you think you were the only one allowed secrets?
Iris didn’t have an answer. He wanted to think of himself and VIFAI as partners—equals.
Yet, it was always him sending the AI to the background, shutting down its speech, and deciding when rest would come.
This skewed partnership, which he could no longer call that, had served him well.
Iris couldn’t say the same for VIFAI. He concluded that silence and space would do them both good, and turned his attention towards the computer screen instead, deeming the conversation over.
The path his AI had outlined was simple enough.
They would climb their way to the tenth deck using the staircases on the opposite sides of the corridor that ran along the communal space.
Then they would track towards the center of the ship, where most of the electrical pings had been originating from, according to Yan’s work.
Iris remembered the burning ache in his brain stem when his AI was pinged at the orchard and winced internally.
Another such interaction was guaranteed.
“What happens if the path is blocked? Iris’s AI can adapt, your map can’t,” Ishtan asked.
“And we can’t just ring each other up,” Eli added.
They were both painfully right. Collapsed corridors and blocked-off paths were surely in their way. VIFAI could simply suggest another, more optimal path, but the other group would have to rely on their wits instead.
“We’ll still have the map,” Yan said, matter-of-factly.
“We’ll simply follow a different line. The first goal is to stay as far away from the other group so whoever is watching us won’t be able to hit both groups at the same time.
The second goal is to get to our rendezvous point in two and a half days.
We’ll have access to water on our way, but I can’t predict what the food situation will be like.
I don’t want us walking around too long.
” He sounded convinced with his own plan.
If Iris had focused only on the content of Yan’s speech, he would have missed the faint tremble in the engineer’s voice.
It was almost negligible, but having spent many months in isolation retreats during his Vessel training, Iris had become sensitised to the micro-inflections in people’s voices.
He had learned to study them as musicians study music or architects the curve of an arch.
There was a science to it, a mathematical precision.
Iris hoped no one else was as particular as he was.
It was decided then that they would spend the final night where they were, eat and drink as much as they could, and set off in ten hours.
After Eli started a small fire by the console, they threw in the remaining potatoes and some squash into the embers and waited for them to cook.
Ishtan boiled some water he collected from the surrounding moss and made tea.
After the haphazardly assembled dinner, Tev and Jesi quickly drifted off to sleep by the glowing flames.
A little ways off, Eli was explaining to Ishtan how to properly fire Ordan’s pistol.
“Respectfully,” Yan nodded to Eli and the gun, “I’d feel safer if this went to someone with a faster reaction time. ”
Iris watched as Yan took the gun into his own hands, twisted it around, and returned it to Eli with a sour face. “I don’t like these things. Too loud. Too final.” He turned to Ishtan. “You don’t mind, do you? I think Tev would do much better with it.”
There was a strained silence.
“I can assure you—” Ishtan started, but Yan placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“We’re well past an honour system. We’ve known each other for how long? Oh, five years. I know you’re responsible, Ishtan. I also know you get nervous, and you get into your own head. You think too much. Better someone who will fire first and think of consequences later.”
Iris firmly disagreed, but he remained silent, seated by the crackling fire. This wasn’t his place nor his people.
“I can handle a simple gun, Yan.”
Yan took the gun into his hands again and shook his head. “I know you like debates, old man, but now isn’t the time.” Ishtan pursed his lips beneath his beard. “I’ll risk your feelings for the safety of the group. You understand.”
Begrudgingly, Ishtan nodded. His eyes followed Yan as he walked to Tev and shook the boy awake by his shoulder. Iris couldn’t make out his words, but he was sure Eli would be teaching Tev next, how to shoot without thinking first, how not to feel bad if he hit something.
Like Yan, Iris was wary of firearms. He had yet to witness good come from a discharged gun.
Guns were a simple tool of death. They created distance, relieving the shooter from the nasty work of feeling their target pass.
They were an irresponsible tool, one that Iris wished they could do away with entirely.
Aboard spaceships, they were especially dangerous.
Each bullet was another chance to puncture the hull and doom them all.
Not something of concern aboard the Nicaea with her impenetrable walls, but a concern, nonetheless.
Guns. As if their situation wasn’t dire enough.
Iris was softly muttering his mantras and passing the mala through his fingers when Yan came to rest by his side, a respectable distance between their tired bodies.
“Seems you got your head back on straight, Vessel. Glad to see it.”
Iris nodded lightly. He wouldn’t spoil the fragile mood with his thoughts on firearms and their mistaken utility.
“I’ve been neglecting my practice, with everything that’s happened.
It’s so simple to maintain it when I’m back at the temple.
It’s such a serene and fertile environment.
Takes much more dedication to do it here. ”
“I bet,” Yan snorted. “What with all the murders and the killer plants.”
Iris rewarded the engineer with a polite smile.
“I never got to thank you for bringing me food after I was injured. That was very kind of you.” It was a difficult topic to breach, but the chance was there, and there was no guarantee they would ever meet again.
While Iris still nursed the futile hope they would escape the Nicaea, his more rational side leaned towards an outcome where both engineer and monk would meet their demise somewhere along the twisted corridors.
No one would come for them. The thought was somewhat distressing.
Yan hummed affirmatively and said nothing.
“I also never thanked you properly for tending to my injuries. That too was very kind of you, engineer Yan. I understand it was a difficult task.” That was an even tougher topic to breach, and Iris had almost talked himself out of it minutes prior while staring into the fire and pretending to be engrossed in his mantras.
When he looked over at Yan, puzzled by his silence, he found the engineer asleep, still upright.
Even unconscious, Yan’s eyebrows were knotted together in worry.
Iris caught himself fixating on a single spot along Yan’s neck that pulsed lazily to his heartbeat.
He felt his own heart matching the rhythm without any effort.
But any thoughts on this matter were dangerous, and Iris stifled them before they got away from him.
The distance he cultivated between himself and others was there for a reason, just as much for his well-being as it was for others’.
All of this—the warm calm that spread through him when he was in Yan’s vicinity, the urge to impress the engineer—all of it was just youthful longings, something that had been long left in the past.
Slowly, Iris reached out and caught the edge of Yan’s tattered sleeve between his index and middle fingers. This was as close as he’d let himself get, as close as he’d tread the boundary without overstepping.
“Please,” he whispered, careful not to wake Yan, “be careful.”