Safe, Part V

Celia stood in what a soldier might have recognized as an ‘at ease’ position about twenty feet inside the door of the Stasis Chamber. Her feet were spread about shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind her back, and shoulders squared and tense. This vantage gave her the best view of the pods that circled and rose around her in a kind of amphitheater formation, the bottoms of each upper row concealed by the head of the one below it. Short runs of steps and long gangways ran around the room, providing access to all of the pods and giving the ground-based maintenance servos a track to run on. There were also flying servos, and occasionally one of them flitted by on its way to some task assigned by the mainframe. The Safe darted her eyes to Simmons’ pod, noting that the scorch marks and dismembered wiring had been cleaned up--but she knew that even just a casual glance behind the structure in which his corpse was housed would reveal significant damage to all the tech that served as umbilical cords for these travelers.

Celia’s mind was taut, the bulk of her consciousness flung to that part of her brain in which the personalities of the bodies stacked before her resided. She searched for the one that would be the next to be freed, that would come into herself and join as Harvin had. She wanted to be a little finicky in her decision, and make it deliberately, for in a way the Safe didn’t quite understand she sensed that bringing too many minds into hers would spell disaster for her psyche, so quality should take precedence over quantity. Along with that, though, came the memory of the categorical pleasure that absorbing Simmons had brought her--and how addictive that joy could be.

She hesitated as she brushed up against an inquisitive mind, one with a powerful curiosity. Celia paused in her browsing and focused her attention on the one that had caught her attention, and noticed after a moment that it exuded confidence, as well, a surety born of both mental and physical strength. Nodding her head slightly, the Safe decided that this curiosity and confidence would serve her well, for she still had many questions for Huffold, and also owed him a conversation. The poise with which this mind held itself would doubtless be an asset, and perhaps she could avoid another embarrassing breakdown. She coaxed the target ego out of the mass of others, and brought it towards the “wall” that separated her own intellect from the mass she was carrying. On the way she learned it was of her own sex. Good news, she thought--a female to even out her augmentations. Already she felt drawn to this persona and its superior balance and control. As she coaxed the mind nearer the border, she prepared for the tearing down required to complete the merging.

As before, she pictured hands bent into rigid talons rending through the barrier in her mind, a ragged hole forming that the new woman could pass through. As before, the pain was immense, and she nearly lost consciousness from the shock and effort--then it was done. With a surge of energy she formed a clear image of hands repairing that wall, shoring it up so that no scar showed, no weakness was left to exploit. Also as before, she was veiled in elation at the joining, and felt as though a part of herself was back in place, something the Safe had been missing so long that she didn’t even know it had been gone. She sat, heavily, a small ribbon of drool suspended from one corner of her mouth.


Zoe Brazzo blinked heavily....at least, she thought she did. Although the action seemed normal, she sensed that something was different about it, something she could not put her finger on. It seemed as though she didn’t blink at all--only thought she did. After a few moments of consideration, she realized that the issue may be that she did not, currently, have a finger available to put on anything. She could sense a body around her mind, her wits, memories, and judgment available and in operating at full capacity, but that body did not seem accessible for the normal manipulation she was used to. Added to this oddness was the fact that she sensed that she was not alone in this body. Brushing up against her psyche were two other egos, fully functioning but not invasive--yet. One of them seemed more dominant than the other, but tired and a touch subdued right now. Being in the Safe’s head played hell with her sense of time, but somehow it didn’t feel like she had been put back in her own body, as was supposed to happen when the ship found a planet to colonize. Something was not right.

With the patience of the huntress that she was, Zoe decided to settle in and get the full lay of the land before taking any action.


Huffold sat at his desk and re-read his letter to Harvin. He decided to put it aside for a few minutes, then switched over to scan the pre-launch log for the Freya, the small scout ship that would be dispatched in 36 hours to go and catch up with the Cornucopia and--he fervently hoped--put things right and salvage what they could from the colony ship’s mission. The two-man crew’s orders included a variety of ways to subdue the Safe, none of which involved killing her....for now. A second dart-shaped fast mover, the Frey, was a twin to the first and currently being stocked as a back up, to be launched in 60 hours on a similar mission but with a new Safe on board to replace the current malfunctioning one. Sollart, Huffold, and their superiors had decided to run the Cornucopia with a Safe plus four and complete the original mission, if possible. Huffold felt certain that the four spacers they were sending would be able to get things under control--but the problem on his mind was how to manage Celia until then. The Freya wouldn’t be able to dock with the colony ship for twenty days. Huffold’s hair greyed at the thought of the damage to lives and ship that could be done in that time.

“Sir?” Huffold’s assistant’s voice from the intercom interrupted his unpleasant thoughts--a welcome distraction. He keyed the mic.
“What news from the comm?”
“Reporting that we now have visual inside the Cornucopia, sir. Per your instructions, no one has access to the actual viewing screen yet.”
Huffold’s spirits rose edgily. This could be the break they needed--visual information from the live feed would be delayed, of course, but it was infinitely better than the ‘nothing’ they had right now.
“Excellent--give the techs a bonus and rotate a vacation day through the staff without leaving us short-handed. Ping Sollart and patch it through to his office, and mine, coded and scrambled. Then, get your ass in here so I can keep you in the loop.”
“Also, sir--”
“Also? Lay it down.”
“We have some minimal control over a few of the ship’s functions. Right now just lights, window shutters on the hull, and all doors, including the fire/breach seals in the access tunnels and air vents. We can change the access codes and disallow entry into any and all parts of the ship, on a short delay.”
“Double the raise, give yourself one, and remind me to visit the comm cage for some accolades. That is impressive work.”
“Sir.”
Huffold hit a few controls and shifted the view on his screen to the much larger one on the wall, and waited for the feed.

continued...