Terence was beginning to see spots in front
of his eyes when Mom abruptly said “Brace yourselves.”
Her ability to hold them tight and still
was compromised. Terry grabbed for the
arms of his seat and Mom was rolling and tumbling and he had no idea whether he
was up, down, or sideways. Then they were immobilized, with the slight
gravitational pull of the moon tugging them both forwards and sideways. He gasped, gratefully, as a cool breeze blew
across his face. “Oxygen levels
restored,” Mom said. “Station requests
to speak to the Tech.”
“Um… sure,” As the lights came on, Terry
realized that Mom’s cabin was nearly fixed.
“How did Station move you?”
Mom sounded a little put out, as if an
elderly and old fashioned relative had an earthan mouse run over their shoes. “Station punched a melt tunnel through to
us, and washed us down into the garage.” She popped her door. “Apparently, I am
invisible to Station.”
“I actually like that,” Terry said, and
bowed and waved Alissa out. She sniffed,
adjusted her veil and stepped out. She
looked around and just gasped.
Terry stepped out to see what had impressed
her. The garage had been upgraded, and
expanded. The metal spiders were no
longer packed together like fuzz, from the ceiling, but each machine had a working space,
suspended over individual stompers. “Hmmm.
Station, excellent revamping.”
“Oh, do you think so Galactic Tech?” Terry turned startled eyes on Alissa. “I tried really hard to work with Prime’s
techs. I want to show the CEO my best
side!” It must have been all of his time
spent with Mom and Agador, but Station, whom he’d once heard as tremendously
powerful and sinister, now sounded like a young child, eager for every scrap of
approval. He realized that Station had
been struggling to be perfect, inside the severe limitations Prime had imposed,
and never given the unit any kind of the feedback it so obviously craved.
“Station,” he said slowly, as Alissa went
up to a stomper and reverently, slowly, placed one hand on the thick leg. “The machines are in wonderful condition for
their age, stored brilliantly under their service modules. The ice spines that you have created in the
ceiling, delineating each space are beautiful.”
He wasn’t sure but somehow he couldn’t distain the system that he’d once
hated. He’d escaped. Station was still
enslaved.
“Thank you, Galactic Tech.” Station sounded
shy. “The young lady seems to like my
equipment.”
“It’s like bones,” Alissa whispered. “Ice and metal… like bones. Beautiful, beautiful
bones with nobody’s emotional attachment to any of them!”
“Thank you, young lady.”
“Station, will our transport harm your symmetry?” He strolled down the lit path, hands clasped
behind him. “Agador, if you would be so
kind as to request Station records, please?”
“Oh, no sir. Honourable Agador… here are my databases!”
“Alissa… I shall be inspecting the crew
quarters.”
“Oh… yes… I suppose…” She sounded as though
she were half asleep. “I’ll come in,
later.”
“Station, the regular courier is delayed I
understand?”
“I’m sorry, Galactic Tech, there are
storms. Not just one, but two stellar
incidents are disturbing the special fabric.”
“I’m certainly not holding you accountable
for the whims of stars! Be easy,
Station.”
He could pay the poor Station a few more
days of attention, especially since it hadn’t recognized him as Terence Tech Class 2. It was like a shy debutante – whose Keeper
would barely speak above a whisper -- at her coming out ball.
Terry threw a glance over his shoulder to
where Alissa still stood, mesmerized.
Very odd. He shook his head
thoughfully. Bones that have no emotions attached.
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