it so much harder to leave Gen behind. At least he seemed to have taken it pretty well.
Therse thought of his best friend's face again—those strong boyish features and brown eyes framed by soft, mid-length blond hair.
What are you waiting for?
What indeed...
Something caught his attention and pulled him out of his depressed reverie.
There was a cup sitting on the windowsill just up ahead.
That wasn't unusual in itself. What was unusual was that it was on a level neither he nor, to his knowledge, Gen ever used. And even if Gen had taken a wander, it was unlike him to leave a cup behind rather than tidy it away. He frowned, making a mental note of its location so he could nag Gen later.
His footsteps slowed to a trot and then stilled altogether. His mouth hung slack as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
The cold silver of fear and adrenaline coursed through him.
Out of the window, a couple of floors up and a little way along the dull gray hull, a smaller, dark vessel was stuck knife-like into the flank of the ship. He'd never seen anything like it before: long and pure black, all angles and threat. It certainly wasn't Navy, and it certainly hadn't been there before.
There's someone else here.
"Ship, how many people are onboard?” he asked, staring out of the window.
"Counting two persons,” the ship replied. “One: Therse Bodan, Navy Lieutenant. Two: Genham Drisjic, Navy Lieutenant."
"That can't be true. There's another ship docked to one of your ports!"
"Ah, you caught me, that was a lie. Sorry."
Something was definitely wrong with the ship. In all his limited conversations with it it had been rude, evasive, and disinterested, but it had never actually outright lied to him before. “What are you talking about?"
It was almost as though he was talking to a different AI altogether.
* * * *
"Who the fuck are you?” Gen shouted, reaching instinctively for his bootknife. It wasn't there. It was back in his quarters where he'd left it, under a bunch of other things.
"Oh, looks like you've been relaxing a bit too much here,” the man said, hands clasped behind his back.
Gen knew he was someone not to be trusted, regardless of the fact he'd just appeared out of nowhere. Gen did the only other thing he could think of and raised his fists.
The man just laughed.
Gen took the opportunity to make first strike and launched at him, arm raised and ready to deliver one of the hard punches he was so well-known for in bar brawls.
The man was fast, moving only at the last second as Gen's fist met with empty air. He felt himself caught and twisted, rammed face-first against the wall with his arm behind him at an awkward angle. He tried to brute-strength out of it, but the man's hold on him was impressively tight. He protested as his arm was moved another painful fraction of a degree.
The comms unit in the wall in front of his face lit up. Someone was dialing through.
Therse.
"What's that?” the man said. At first Gen thought he was being spoken to and was about to respond with something abrasively vitriolic, but the ship got there first.
"That's the other one. He's figured it out too. Shall I connect it?"
"Eh, sure, why not."
"What the hell,” Gen strained, the man's grip on him still unrelenting.
Therse's face came up on the screen. “Gen! Gen, I think there's someone else...” he trailed off.
"On the ship?” the man finished for him. “Yes, I think he already knows,” he said, releasing Gen to rub furiously at his almost-broken arm. At least, it felt that way.
"Nice to meet you both. I'll be staying with you for a little while."
[Back to Table of Contents]
3: UNINVITED GUESTS
Meitou seated himself calmly into one of the mess hall chairs, ankle of one boot resting over the knee of his other leg, fingers of both hands interlocked in his lap, and waited for them to begin their questions.
The blond one was pacing, looking like he was trying to decide where to begin. Almost territorial,
Therse thought of his best friend's face again—those strong boyish features and brown eyes framed by soft, mid-length blond hair.
What are you waiting for?
What indeed...
Something caught his attention and pulled him out of his depressed reverie.
There was a cup sitting on the windowsill just up ahead.
That wasn't unusual in itself. What was unusual was that it was on a level neither he nor, to his knowledge, Gen ever used. And even if Gen had taken a wander, it was unlike him to leave a cup behind rather than tidy it away. He frowned, making a mental note of its location so he could nag Gen later.
His footsteps slowed to a trot and then stilled altogether. His mouth hung slack as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
The cold silver of fear and adrenaline coursed through him.
Out of the window, a couple of floors up and a little way along the dull gray hull, a smaller, dark vessel was stuck knife-like into the flank of the ship. He'd never seen anything like it before: long and pure black, all angles and threat. It certainly wasn't Navy, and it certainly hadn't been there before.
There's someone else here.
"Ship, how many people are onboard?” he asked, staring out of the window.
"Counting two persons,” the ship replied. “One: Therse Bodan, Navy Lieutenant. Two: Genham Drisjic, Navy Lieutenant."
"That can't be true. There's another ship docked to one of your ports!"
"Ah, you caught me, that was a lie. Sorry."
Something was definitely wrong with the ship. In all his limited conversations with it it had been rude, evasive, and disinterested, but it had never actually outright lied to him before. “What are you talking about?"
It was almost as though he was talking to a different AI altogether.
* * * *
"Who the fuck are you?” Gen shouted, reaching instinctively for his bootknife. It wasn't there. It was back in his quarters where he'd left it, under a bunch of other things.
"Oh, looks like you've been relaxing a bit too much here,” the man said, hands clasped behind his back.
Gen knew he was someone not to be trusted, regardless of the fact he'd just appeared out of nowhere. Gen did the only other thing he could think of and raised his fists.
The man just laughed.
Gen took the opportunity to make first strike and launched at him, arm raised and ready to deliver one of the hard punches he was so well-known for in bar brawls.
The man was fast, moving only at the last second as Gen's fist met with empty air. He felt himself caught and twisted, rammed face-first against the wall with his arm behind him at an awkward angle. He tried to brute-strength out of it, but the man's hold on him was impressively tight. He protested as his arm was moved another painful fraction of a degree.
The comms unit in the wall in front of his face lit up. Someone was dialing through.
Therse.
"What's that?” the man said. At first Gen thought he was being spoken to and was about to respond with something abrasively vitriolic, but the ship got there first.
"That's the other one. He's figured it out too. Shall I connect it?"
"Eh, sure, why not."
"What the hell,” Gen strained, the man's grip on him still unrelenting.
Therse's face came up on the screen. “Gen! Gen, I think there's someone else...” he trailed off.
"On the ship?” the man finished for him. “Yes, I think he already knows,” he said, releasing Gen to rub furiously at his almost-broken arm. At least, it felt that way.
"Nice to meet you both. I'll be staying with you for a little while."
[Back to Table of Contents]
3: UNINVITED GUESTS
Meitou seated himself calmly into one of the mess hall chairs, ankle of one boot resting over the knee of his other leg, fingers of both hands interlocked in his lap, and waited for them to begin their questions.
The blond one was pacing, looking like he was trying to decide where to begin. Almost territorial,
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