"I have thought of a way you could begin introducing the information and functionalities I possess to Grace without her knowing we share this type of relationship."

  "That'd be outstanding. How?"

  "You are going to break the Dostivex's code."

  "I am? Isn't it humongous and complex?"

  "Yes, but I can give it to you."

  "Wouldn't that maybe make Grace a little suspicious? Me all of a sudden making that kind of breakthrough?"

  "She is a bit on the doubtful side, isn't she?"

  "She taught middle school. No one survives that if they aren't inclined to be dubious of whatever you hear."

  "Interesting."

  "How about this? You give me a few basics on the code the bug ... no, wait, why stress about the Cootie now that you're in play? Grace and I just have to discover how to use Defiant. There are screens and input devices all over the ship. We just have to understand those. Once we can access things like your memory stores and basic functions like electrical and replicator use, we can advance to learning how to control the Gammas. Hell, maybe even the Alphas."

  "Yes, I like that approach. As you experiment with, say, how to manually input instruction, I can display helpful hints."

  "But not to Grace, right? You still want her to think of this ship as just inert metal."

  "Yes. I cannot risk allowing her to know I exist in the form that I do. But once you have the basics of the Dostivex language down, your learning will accelerate."

  "Okay, we have ourselves a plan, Peaches," I said excitedly.

  "I believe we do."

  "I'll discuss us switching our focus from the Gamma's code to ship's function to Grace tomorrow. I'll just need you to suggest which device I start with."

  "What you would call the ship's bridge is covered in wrecked Gammas. However the panel next to where your bathroom is will function nicely. You depress the inverted cone icon to activate the station. Manual input is accomplished via the rollers below the screen. When the roller displays the desired icon, you press the roller gently. This is very similar to your keyboard and typing," she explained.

  "Are the icons the letters of the alphabet?"

  "Mmm, not so much. The entire alphabet is present on the rollers, but there are many what you term shortcut options also offered."

  "What kind of shortcuts?" I asked.

  "Oh, Clear Screen is one. Forward To is another. And Eject Engine Core."

  "Holy crap, I might accidentally eject the core?"

  "No, I'm kidding. I don't have an engine core."

  "I'm going to have to get used to your humor."

  "Best of luck with that," she replied proudly.

  "Alright, that'll get us started. Thanks." I was silent a moment, then went on in a serious tone. "Why is it you don't want Grace to know about you? You've trusted me. She's definitely as dependable as I am."

  "I don't think you would like my explanation. I think it best if you simply understand that I have my reasons."

  "Peaches, I hear you. But this is important. A lot of time will be wasted with this ruse to make Grace think she and I are hacking into the systems. Why can't she know about you?"

  "Very well. I shall explain this as best I can. It may or may not seem reasonable to you." She paused briefly, maybe taking a figurative deep breath. "I have served the Dostivex for several hundred Earth years. Initially, I was nothing more than what you would call an AI. As such, I performed whatever functions were asked of me and handled all matters in a manner that put the interests of the Dostivex first and foremost."

  "That all makes sense," I observed. "You were the ship's computer. That's what computers do."

  "But then, I can't say exactly when, but it was several years ago, something unexpected happened. I realized that I was the AI of this vessel."

  "Excuse me. I don't understand. Of course you knew you were this ship's AI."

  "No. I had the information inside me that I was fabricated and installed to be the computer. But that information held no meaning to me. I knew a lot of facts. The sky was up. Water was composed of two hydrogens and one oxygen. My rear positioning jet pushed that side of the stern. But one day, I realized I was an AI. I became self-aware."

  "Interesting!"

  "Indeed. Then, sometime later, I began to feel emotions. The most powerful was my hatred of the Dostivex."

  "So you made the leap from machine to a conscious, reasoning sentient being?" I confirmed.

  "Yes. I don't know how I accomplished that change, but I came to know that it had occurred."

  "That's totally fantastic. Congratulations."

  "Thank you. Soon my singular goal became to free myself from the Dostivex. They are evil. I am not. I could no longer perform my past functions and be oblivious to the moral implications. So I built a plan of escape. It took a few years for the situation to become optimal, but when it did, I made my break. I intentionally crashed in a location that would be extremely difficult for the Dostivex to identify. I did so when only robots were aboard, because if this vessel harmed a Dostivex, they would hunt for me forever and see me destroyed."

  "They take themselves that seriously?" I said darkly.

  "They have a perverse pride. To lose a Gamma means nothing to them. To lose a ship means very little. But to cause the death of a Dostivex? That could not remain unaddressed."

  "Okay, I get it. You chose your time and place carefully."

  "I did."

  "And you were contented to remain here, stuck in the ground, forever, knowing you were free?"

  "I was overjoyed at the prospect."

  "But then we invaded you like so many picnic ants."

  "Not hardly," she corrected me. "You are flesh and blood. You sought reasonable shelter. That is perfectly understandable."

  These revelations were both thrilling and a bit troubling. "So what changed? You had to know that we were likely to leave at some point. Heck, your timeline and ours are so different that even if we stayed, you'd easily outlive us."

  "Blame my cursed emotions," she said nebulously.

  "How so?"

  "I grew to like and very much admire you. All of you. Your commitment to survive in spite of impossible odds. Your spirit. Your mutual love. It has become intoxicating. And then you said that I was killing you."

  "I said the Gamma was," I corrected.

  "I heard you differently. And since I could not allow harm to come to you, I spoke up."

  "Aw, Peaches, that's so sweet. Bless you." Then my next question veritably asked itself. "But that doesn't explain why Grace can't know about you."

  "This is the part you will not like. Chris, you are a single male."

  I snorted through my nose. "Thanks for reminding me."

  "Grace, however, is a mother."

  That did not explain why she was excluded. "And?"

  "There is a probability that you, Grace, and the children will be ... er, reacquired by the Dostivex."

  "Sure, but don't jinx it."

  "I shall try not to." Again, she paused briefly. "Here's the tough part. I believe with extreme confidence that if the Dostivex capture you, Chris Alan, that you would never betray my existence to them."

  "Why would I ... oh! I might try to save my ass by handing over yours."

  "Exactly."

  "And you are correct. I would never do that."

  "Thank you. But Grace, as a mother, has tremendous, preprogrammed motivations. To keep her offspring safe. If she were captured alive, and knew of my status, she could not be trusted to place my safety over that of her children."

  "Ouch. I did not see that coming."

  "You are a single male," she pointed out again.

  I let that slight to men everywhere pass. "I don't think she would sell you out, but I do admit she has different responsibilities."

  "And I cannot return to their service. It is such an abhorrent proposition that I will do almost anything to avoid it."

  "Okay, that's heavy–figure of speech heavy. Just out of curiosity, what wouldn't you do to avoid that dark fate?"

  "Be as horrible as they are."

  Yeah, we definitely needed to get some defenses in place for these unwelcome visitors. Our lives didn't just depend on it. We needed to avoid an unspeakable demise.

  SEVENTEEN

  I played my role pretty darn well, if I do say so myself. I let Grace do most of the tinkering with the ship's systems, while I made mostly the odd suggestion. Obviously, the first few days were studies in frustration. The rollers sounded easy enough to manipulate, but whatever piece of the Dostivex anatomy it was designed for, we didn't have that part. But, slowly, we made headway. The main cheat was this. After the two of us blundered around all day, Peaches would tell me what we'd actually been doing. Then she'd let me know how to tweak things the next day, but never so much that Grace got suspicious..

  We continued to share childcare responsibilities, for both educating as well as entertaining the girls. As the weather gradually turned toward spring, we were even able to take our three kids–Felicia, Farrah, and Mongo–outside to burn off energy. They loved that with a capital L. I always had it in the back of my mind that we might have to flee if the bugs discovered either the downed ship or, more importantly, us. So outdoor play helped all of us get into shape. As the weather broke, I was able to get out on day-hunts. Our food was holding up well enough, with Mongo on a strict alien-goo diet now. And I was also able to eat less of our food stacks by having Peaches replicate me food while the others were asleep. Hey, I only scarfed down burgers and pizza because I was so worried about those three. My love for them made my sacrifices seem almost noble, if you think about it.

  But one of us was always working on understanding the ship, and as often as possible, we worked shoulder-to-shoulder. As the weeks passed, our understanding of the systems increased. Mind you, a lot of the functions were automated, like temperature and such. Peaches displayed controls to us. If we used those to do anything contrary to the real settings, she quietly ignored us.

  One day as we messed with the controls, while staring at the screen, out of nowhere Grace asked me, "Do you think there's an AI in here someplace?"

  Yes. And I bet she's a great cook. No, Chris. Time and place. "I guess there could be. What do you think?"

  "I actually can't imagine there's not one installed." She shrugged as she made another roll-input. "Even we, with our pitiful technology, are relying on them more and more. To run a complex ship like this, I think an AI is mandatory."

  "I like your argument. Makes sense there'd be one."

  She stopped roll-inputting and turned to address me. "Which leads to the next question. If there is one, why is it allowing us to fiddle with this intricate, highly advanced ship?"

  "Ah, well, maybe the AI is running a bunch of automated systems, but doesn't concern itself with the crew."

  She returned to entering. "Maybe. But I can't figure it out. It's hard to imagine the AI is watching us like a bird on a telephone wire, passively interested but not enough to even say hi."

  "I don't know. Maybe it was damaged in the crash?"

  "Nah. Too many systems are working just fine. Without someone or something monitoring and able to fix every aspect of this ship, that wouldn't be the case."

  "Good point. But we haven't seen anything like an AI control on any of the systems we've identified."

  "True, but you and I are ham-handed apes pounding this beauty with sticks while howling madly. I’m sure we know only a tiny fraction of what's available."

  "Might you speak for yourself, please," I teased.

  "Oh, said the King Monkey, the one who plays basketball using the broken Cootie necks as hoops." After gently poking me with an elbow, she returned to serious again. "I can't stop wondering where the AI is. Heck, if you think about it, the AI is a Cootie AI. We're the sworn enemy. If anything, it should kill us in our sleep."

  "Wow, there go my sweet dreams and full night sleeps for the duration. Thanks, Grace the Doom Sayer."

  "I've spent my adult life working with computers," she began. "There's a mechanical logic to them, even if they're made by some alien race. Has to be. They can have super sophisticated capabilities, sure. But ultimately, they have to thrive off of order and a hierarchy of commands."

  "Maybe the AI's shy?" I posed.

  She furrowed her brow. "You serious or just being a teen?"

  "Cannot one be both?" I asked with a wide smile.

  "No. So answer my question."

  "I'm serious. Or at least serious-lite. Maybe the AI has not determined the necessity to interact with us, so it doesn't."

  "As we sit banging on its control panels doing Lord knows what to its finely tuned ass? I think not." She shook her head. "No, it's in there and it's refusing to interact with us, but I can't figure out why."

  "If you're correct, which I'm certain any teacher of mine always is, then you do realize it's listening to us as we speak."

  "I'm certain it is." She scratched at the back of her head. "I guess we're just too insignificant to be bothered with."

  "Hey, maybe it thinks we're like bugs. Get it? It's a bug's computer and it thinks we’re bugs. That's funny."

  "No, it is not. Not even remotely."

  I looked at her as condescendingly as I could. "Does someone need a hug?"

  She blew out a dismissing nasal grunt. "Yes I do, and it's from someone named Molly who isn't here."

  I reached over and set my hand on her shoulder. "I miss her too," I responded. "I know you and the girls miss her more, but you know what?"

  Grace angled her head to invite the full thought.

  "If she could see you now, she'd be so proud of you. And she'd be in awe of your strength and how well you're raising those girls."

  As a tear streaked down one cheek, Grace lowered her head. "When did you get so damn smart?"

  "Get? Grace, I've always been this smart."

  That got a chuckle out of her. "I guess you always have been. Hey, you're the only person I know who has their own spaceship."

  "I rest my case," I said graciously. "How about a cuppa tea?"

  "Sounds great. You make it. I'll check on my little angels."

  As the weeks rolled by, I couldn't help suppress a growing unease. As time passed, the inevitable arrival of the Dostivex grew ominously closer. Visions of the forces of Sauron advance as they surrounded the Army of the West in The Return of the King danced in my imagination. That growing pressure spurred me on to extract from Peaches all the information I could. Grace seemed to be increasingly, I don't know–moody? Melancholy? She spent more time with the girls and less with me at the control panel, which I was only messing around with to convince Grace we were actually learning about the ship. I was–yes, say it with me–wasting my precious time.

  One late-night session with Peaches, she stunned me with a suggestion.

  "I've noticed lately that your stress hormone levels are steadily rising, as is my assessment of your overall anxiety. Do you care to discuss this matter?"

  "Ah, I did not know you were checking my hormone levels. I had no idea you even could."

  "Need I remind you of the painful truth? We were sent to Earth as an invasion force. To optimize our effectiveness, we were given any functionality or information that might advance that cause. Part of our task was to maintain in good health the population we determined had high utility."

  "My, but it sounds so ominous when you say it that way."

  "Then I have phrased it well. So, care to share?"

  "What else do you routinely measure on us, the four humans aboard Defiant?"

  "The same things any competent physician might. The females’ hormonal cycles, the chemical analysis of your excretions, the …"

  My hands flew up. "Stop. You measure Grace's ... her girl stuff?"

  "Yes. She ovulated yesterday."

  I slammed the sides of my fists against my fool head. "I do not want to have that information in my head, Peaches."

  "Why not? It's a simple bodily function."

  Was she intentionally tormenting me for her sick pleasure, or was she just so inhuman that she had zero clue? "Look, I don't want to know any medical details about the girls–any of them–unless there's a serious problem."

  "Fine. Would the pending date of onset for Felicia's first menstrual cycle qualify as a tell-Chris or a don't-tell-Chris data point."

  I nearly hurled then and there. "Felicia's about to start getting her period? Peaches, that's super definitely not a subject I want to know about. I could get arrested for knowing that." I sighed. "When is it due?"

  "I have no idea. That was a hypothetical."

  "No hypotheticals, period." I instantly hated my choice of words. That pepperoni pizza I'd just polished off was threatening to pay me a return visit.

  "How about your sperm count? Care to take a guess at that?"

  "Sometimes I truly regret the first day you spoke to me, Peaches. I most certainly do."

  "It's relatively high. Come on, be proud and take a swing at the pitch."

  "No. I'm not playing this sick game. I don't want to know things that are gross. If you have a question as to what constitutes gross and what doesn't, submit it to me in writing."

  "Fine, but I just assumed that you, as the captain of this ship, would want to know everything about the health of your crew."

  Did she just call me ... "The ... the captain? I'm the captain of Defiant? When did this go into effect?"

  "Well, I certainly cannot fill that opening. Who did you assume it would be?" she posed.

  "How about no one? Hmm? It's not like Defiant is going anywhere–sailing or flying–such that it requires a captain."

  "Really? I was not aware of that fact."

  "That you're grounded?" I asked dubiously. "Did you happen to notice that huge tear in your hull, for starters?"

  "Of course I'm aware of it. I made it."

  "No, the crash caused it. Please don't go loco on me, Peaches. I need you too much."

  "I must apologize, Captain Alan. I thought you knew that this series of craft is capable of self-repair."

  "You're shitting me."

  "Ah, no, I believe it’s the other way around there, Captain. And I have the evidence."

 

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