Chapter 17 #5
That much was true. Iris’s brain stem pulsed with a low ache, and he rubbed the nape of his neck gingerly.
There was no time to rest, no time to even sit down and close his eyes.
They were half a step ahead of death. They had no luxury of slowing down.
Iris leaned his throbbing left shoulder against the wall and lost consciousness for just a moment.
Long enough to recover the smallest bit of usable energy, not long enough for anyone to notice.
When he opened his eyes, Yan was staring at him, but still instructing Jesi on which wires to strip and how to connect them in the right pattern. He patted her on the shoulder as if to say, you got this. “Do you need a moment, Vessel?”
Vessel. Vessel. After everything, it was still professional titles and feigned concern. Iris shook his head. “I’m quite all right. I’ve had worse.”
Your blood pressure is dropping, VIFAI said. Fast.
There’s nothing we can do about that now.
“You look like shit,” Yan said.
Iris looked over Yan. A rogue vine had cut him across the left temple, and blood was still flowing, blinding one of the engineer’s eyes in the process.
Wild strands of hair stuck to the sweat along his face and neck.
There was a darkened bruise on his cheekbone, where the vines had held him too tightly.
Iris would never have the chance to trace that cheekbone now.
With growing desperation, he made a point to memorise every line, every smear of dirt on Yan’s face.
It could have been so different if only they had met under more favourable circumstances.
There could have been time for familiarity to flourish.
So much so, that maybe Yan could have grown to call Iris by his name.
But if Iris were to have nothing or this, he would choose this, however momentous and violent.
It had still been a gift, a beautiful reminder that life could have been entirely different, that there were people in the world who, despite his peculiarities, wanted to be around him.
“Thank you,” Iris said and gave Yan the smallest of smiles.
“Aha!” Jesi cried out victoriously and took a step away from the fizzling fuse box. The door to the corridor slid open, only to get jammed midway. “Go. Now. I don’t know how long it’ll stay open.” She leapt first through the doorway; Yan followed.
Iris hobbled after them, half hoping the door would crash on top of him, and he would finally be able to rest. “Yan, can you get to the airlock?”
The engineer nodded.
Iris limped towards him and grabbed a handful of his shirt, now torn and muddied.
“Listen to me,” he hissed, pulling Yan down to his level.
“Take Jesi and get to that airlock. You still have Ordan’s radio.
When you get inside, break the fuse box.
The Nicaea won’t be able to pry it open, no matter how she tries.
” For a single breath, Iris had to lean against Yan for balance.
To pull away was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“I’ll distract the ship long enough so you can call Station.
They’ll be able to track your radio from there and to the right airlock.
Wait there until extraction. Do not come back.
Do not let anyone come back. Understood? ”
Yan was silent. His eyes traced the outer edges of Iris’s face, never meeting his eyes.
Please, please, please just go.
I can hear you.
With a subtle pleading in his voice, Yan said, “You promised. You said when this was over, you’d—”
“Understood? Go. Run. Don’t look back.” Iris gave the engineer a strong shake.
“Fine.”
“The pulsar blade will still respond to your fingerprint,” Iris said over Yan’s shoulder, eyeing Jesi. “Use it if you have to. Be careful once you’re inside the airlock. That blade will cut anything.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve done all I can for you, Jesi.” Iris wished he didn’t sound so callous, but he had to. “It’s up to you now. Go.”
It’s awake.
Behind them, a handful of slithering vines crept into the light. “Go!” he shouted, and his pulsar blade extended to its full length. When he threw one last look over his shoulder, both Yan and Jesi had already turned the corner of the corridor.
What’s our plan?
It doesn’t want us dead. It wants me incapacitated, so we fight for as long as we can.
And then?
And then we fight some more.
VIFAI chose to remain silent. Iris didn’t give much thought to what would become of him and his AI companion after they couldn’t fight any longer. A puppet for a thousand-year-old ship? There were few fates stranger.
Back at the temple, sparring with Bacai usually ended in him having to do most of her chores after she would beat him mercilessly for the thousandth time.
What Iris wouldn’t give to spar with Bacai just one more time, one final time.
He looked ahead; the vines were slowly closing in on him.
Here, he would remain here. As far as he was concerned, there was no after. And then we die.
LEAVING SO SOON, VESSEL? It was awake again. The ship’s voice came distantly now, like she was shouting down a long hallway. Having taken residence in another brain, her commands would come slower. Mere fractions of a second could even the odds, lengthen the battle.
“I wouldn’t dare think of it,” Iris replied and prepared for the fight.
He would follow behind Jesi and Yan, just far enough to stop any of the Nicaea’s attackers going their way.
Without hesitation, he sprinted away from the approaching vines and towards the stairwell.
One of the pursuing vines reached for his feet and slammed into his ankles.
He fell forwards, tumbled over his shoulders, and landed back on his feet.
Ignoring the pain, he kept running. Another vine lunged at him from the left, but VIFAI reacted first, moving Iris’s arm to slash it before he even knew there was danger.
Another two steps, and Iris was inside the stairwell.
A moment to catch his breath.
IN MY TIME, A GOOD MONK WOULD RATHER SELF-IMMOLATE THAN RESORT TO VIOLENCE. The Nicaea’s playful echo reached the stairwell through the distance.
Iris smiled wide, baring his teeth. The last intact surveillance camera reflected his own image back at him.
His punctured calf was bleeding more now, but the pain barely registered.
There was fresh blood along his left shoulder too, and Iris couldn’t remember, didn’t care, how it got there.
This body was nothing but a tool to go about the world, and he would use his up well before it inevitably retired. “I’m not a good monk,” he hissed.
It’s trying to pry me open.
Iris could feel it too, like a metallic scalpel edging along his brain stem.
Don’t let it. Not yet. He ran up three flights of stairs and out into the corridor.
The airlock was a kilometre away. Luckily, the vines here were thin and packed less force.
They were, however, much sharper. One pierced Iris’s side, just above his liver.
Knocked off-balance, he rolled along the floor.
VIFAI reacted. Despite the ache in his shoulder and the splitting pain in his side, Iris’s arm slashed at the approaching vines.
Sorry.
“Don’t worry,” Iris pushed out through clenched teeth. “We’ve had worse.”
Forwards, he had to keep moving forwards. A few more steps and then reprieve. With a wheeze, Iris crawled to his feet and continued running.
STOP HERE, AND I’LL LET THEM LIVE.
Don’t—
But Iris had already stopped. The first vine pierced his right palm, the second, his bicep, hard enough to throw him flush against the wall. With a scream, Iris dropped the pulsar blade. It fell just out of reach and disappeared beneath the vines. The final strike never came.
SO MUCH FOR ALL LIVING THINGS BEING THE SAME.
She was gloating. Iris nearly laughed. Of all the improbable and impossible things, it just had to be a killer ship.
He wished he could see Bacai’s face when he told her.
He wouldn’t, but it was a comforting image.
“You can’t kill me and get what you desire,” Iris panted, falling, for a moment, beneath the wave of pain.
“We’re at a stalemate.” The Nicaea carved into his brain stem, but he had no strength left to scream.
I CAN WAIT. I HAVE TIME. MORE TIME THAN YOU DO, VESSEL. YOU WILL GROW WEAK, AND YOUR AI WILL GROW WEAK, AND NEITHER OF YOU WILL BE MUCH OF A CHALLENGE. I KNOW HOW TO WAIT PEOPLE OUT.
She was right. A small puddle of his blood widened around him, drop by drop.
Iris took a deep breath and pulled away from the wall, reaching for where his pulsar blade had fallen.
The vines in his right arm dug deeper, and he screamed again, his voice hoarse and brittle in the silence of the ship.
“I can’t do it,” he muttered. “I can’t do it.
I would if I could remove my arm, but I need the pulsar blade to remove my arm. ” He sobbed.
YOUR SUFFERING IS MOST HONOURABLE.
“Give me my blade back, and I’ll show you suffering.
” Iris strained against the vines again, and his efforts released a flow of blood; nothing more.
A guttural moan pushed past his lips as Iris’s head dropped to his chest. Face bloody and stained with tears, Iris stretched his lips into a benevolent smile.
“I need you to do something, quick.” He wanted the ship to overhear him.
Let it. He wanted it to be known what his last concern was before he perished.
He watched, half conscious, as the vines collected his pulsar blade and disappeared with it, slithering down the corridor.
Of course.
“You still have whatever it was you pulled on Yan,” Iris whispered. “Find a way to contact him. Find anything, a social, a number, a ping code.”
He has no social. No ping. I have his work message box.