Silas was tuning his cello when a semicircle expanded like a droplet landing on calm water. The star chart, which had been shrunken and shoved into the top-right corner, zoomed in on the ping—a peanut-shaped blob two and a half light-minutes away. They were navigating through an asteroid cloud, moving at 46% light speed, slowing.

Tracey’s face appeared below the star chart. “I have located a cluster of five asteroids that contain the rare elements we need.” She guided the cello back into the case with the matter manipulator.

He stood. “The bad news is?”

“There is an Arrakis outpost nearby.” A dot appeared within the clusters. “It looks to be an abandoned mining operation. Several asteroids are more hollow than swiss cheese.”

Silas did fancy swiss cheese. He imagined biting into a toasted sandwich as he stepped back into the cockpit. The wall’s pseudo-transparency turned on. Stars were stretched not as much at these speeds. Briefly, he wondered what his role here exactly was. He said, “You know what to do better than I.”

“It is your decision for whether we should proceed.”

“Okay. What’s the chances that we’ll run into hostiles?”

“I would’ve told you if I know.”

“Yeah, thought so. ” Bones in his spine clicked as he stood straighter. “How accurate is the sensor?” It was at 89% health. Surely that missing 11% didn’t make a big difference.

“At this distance of two light-minutes, it can discern objects approximately with the volume of this craft. Half the volume if it were fully repaired.”

A monumental difference. “Then keep inching closer.”

“Yes, Captain Creedy.”

He still liked the sound of that very much, but he really wasn’t much of a captain. And did he want a crew? If he did, he would’ve asked General Freeman for one back on Earth. And there were plenty of fit, strong guys with no family or friends willing to put their lives on the line for humanity. So why didn’t they send a crew? Did the hijacked craft only come with one suit?

Tracey answered, “Your exosuit appears to be reverse-engineered from the craft’s hull and mainframe. As for why they only crafted one, I have to say they most likely had not.”

Not what he had assumed… “What do Argenci usually wear? In space.”

“It depends on the individual. Some have augmented their bodies to the point that they are more machine than flesh, and are able to survive in a vacuum. Others require full enclosures similar to yours.”

"Like cyborgs?"

"Yes, but to a more complete extent."

This revelation was quick to sink in. He was surprisingly open to the idea. “What is that like? Being a machine. Are they still conscious?”

“Yes.”

“Oh?”

“Consciousness is a physical phenomenon of the universe. With sufficient knowledge and technology, it can be controlled, manipulated, destroyed, created, projected, transfered, etcetera. It is not exclusive to carbon organisms.”

That made sense. A question sprang: “Are you conscious?”

“I am.” She smiled. “I know for a fact the Argenci included consciousness in my design.”

No way!

“Please, don’t be afraid, Captain Creedy. I repeat, I mean you no harm. Our kind is here to help you and your people.”

“I’m not afraid. Just very surprised.” His chin lifted at her. “Surprised that there’s a soul behind your pretty face. Is it suffocating without a body? Want me to craft you one?”

Her head tilted. “I don’t experience suffocation, and I don’t see why I would reprogram my mind to be so emotional like yours. As for a body like yours… Why I would need legs when we have a gravity drive? And our matter manipulator can do everything your arms and fingers and toes can.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” He mentally waved her off, head shaking. He exhaled, glanced at the star chart, saw Ingenuity was less than seven light-seconds from a asteroid emphasized with a thick brown line. Dangerously close at twenty-nine light-seconds, the Arrakis outpost was marked with a yellow exclamation triangle, blinking.

A neurotic region of Silas’ brain was expecting a fleet of Arrakis fighters to come out of warp speed any moment, but the next two dozen seconds passed without sudden vibrations shaking the floor. On the wall, from a point enlarged a black mass that blocked all starlight—the unlit asteroid. From this angle, it looked like the visage of a fat man’s head. Or something grosser.

The matter manipulator’s entry flashed. Red lasers shot at the asteroid, lighting up crevices and spongy pocks. Over the course of thirty seconds, a loaf of rock was cut out and guided to the ship. A progress bar then appeared next the refinery, and compelted within ten seconds. Storage entries updated with subtle glows.

Storage

Common Metals (4.24)

Rare Metals (0.16)

Rare Metalloids (0.07)

Carbon (9.11)

Silicon (3.76)

He-3 Reactor

0.04 rare metals and 0.02 rare metalloids refined from that one cutout. Over one unit of silicon and common metals. As the next rock loaf was being cut, Silas asked, “How much do we need?”

“Just under a few units of rare metals metalloids, but we should stockpile over a hundred of each. This rock has a high concentration of gold, which is often needed in high-tech recipes. Hmm, I should update the storage display.”

The entry for rare metals changed with a fuzz as another was added.

Rare Metals (0.14)

Gold (0.02)

So she wasn’t insanely intelligent… because her mainframe was at 11%. How much smarter would she be at 100%? Would she be running circles around Silas at that point? He both did and did not want to find out.

“Fully repaired,” she said, “I would be roughly twice as intelligent in terms of computation speed and complexity. Most of the damage is in my operating memory and data banks.”

“What about at mark two?”

Frowning, she was quiet for a dozen seconds as another loaf was cut out. “I don’t know. I have forgotten much.”

And he didn’t know how to console a conscious machine, so he left it at that and watched the light show of smoke, vitrification, and floating rocks. This advanced tech was nothing short of magic, and if he didn’t know better, he would say it was magic… or divine power. A more primitive man from earlier centuries would, and this realization lead to a whole slew of questions that Silas didn’t find too interesting, but he asked, “You said the Arrakis looks like Humans. Do they have wings?”

She hummed a breath. “I don’t know, but I do know their knowledge of genetic engineering rivals that of the Argenci.”

“Have they engineered themselves?”

“I believe so, but I don’t know the full extent of their experiments.”

“It sounds like the Arrakis and Argenci aren’t that different.”

She nodded. “Which is why our leaders focused on negotiations with them.”

“And how did that go?”

“I don’t know.”

Well, some information was infinitely better than zilch. With nothing more to say, Silas pulled his eyeballs away from her calm face and resumed watching the twin lasers cut out rock cubes one by one. The red light was calming, and soon his eyelids grew heavy. He suppressed a yawn with a roll of his neck and medium-intensity stretches. He jogged on the spot, boxed with an invisible opponent.

Fencing practice? The very thought of that brought on bad memories of his many failures in front of thousands. More than thousands. Millions had watched around the world. Millions had forgotten his name, because no one would remember someone who had had finished second to last place in the Men’s Individual Foil, second only because a douchebag had tested positive for steroids at the last minute. Silas’ sponsors had been disappointed to say the least. Still, he had qualified, twice, and that counted for something, right?

Counted for nothing. The exosuit’s cooling module kicked in as his shadow-boxing workout routine intensified.

Tracey said, “You should restrain yourself.”

He punched a ghost of Freeman’s wrinkled face. “Why?”

“The atmospheric modulator on your back has limited oxygen capacity.”

“Then I’ll refill it from Ingenuity’s modulator. How much O2 do we have? Still months, I assume?”

“Its estimate reads three months and three weeks; however, I calculate it to be closer to four months. The supply is increasing because rock is often composed of at least twenty-percent oxygen.”

“Oh.” He smirked. “So we’ll basically never run out. So why do you say to restrain myself?”

“I am merely cautioning you. You will need to refill in two hours and thirty-fours minutes at this current level of physical exertion.”

“Okay, thanks,” he huffed, and he appreciated her concern. She was nice to have around—an assistant that didn’t have its own many wants and needs. AI. Conscious AI.

Soon, his undergarments were damp with a healthy amount of cold sweat. Refined gold in storage passed one whole unit.

Common Metals (52.51)

Rare Metals (1.08)

Rare Metalloids (0.98)

Carbon (28.77)

Silicon (27.12)

Gold (1.01)

Suddenly, the 3D printer’s icon flashed, a progress bar filling over the course of a dozen seconds. On the craft’s wire frame, the destroyed back section lit up to first shades of red, orange, yellow, then green. Other spots of orange were patched up, leaving a yellow section on the left side. Hull, 92%. At an expensive cost! Five resources had taken bites.

Common Metals (42.51)

Rare Metals (0.58)

Rare Metalloids (0.88)

Carbon (8.77)

Silicon (22.12)

Gold (0.01)

He memorized by repeating to himself: 20.00 carbon, 10.00 common metals, 5.00 silicon, 1.00 gold, 0.5 rare metals, and 0.1 rare metalloids for 10% hull health. He didn’t want to ask how much gold that exactly was—better for his sanity. He left the engineering details to Tracey—delegating. He resumed shadow boxing while she watched with a little smile.

The next cube was cut and refined before she said, “Recovery for the analyzer has completed.”

Crafting Recipe Unlocked: Mk-1 Analyzer

This device may formulate crafting recipes down to an atomic scale.

Power Usage: 1.3

Requires: 2 carbon, 2 common metals, 1 silicon, 1 gold, 0.5 rare metals, 0.5 rare metalloids

Under the recipe, a diagram of a yard-high oblong with a hexagonal cross section was rotating. There were no LED screens or input buttons, and the power connector was a tiny square indent on the bottom.

He asked, “How does it work?” He had pictured a chamber of sorts with laser scanners.

She looked like she was about to say something, but her tongue hitched. “I’m sorry. I can’t find words from your English vocabulary that describes what I want to convey, but it can analyze anything within fifteen yards of itself. I will include this in the recipe.”

“Okay. Craft one and put it next to my bed.”

She laughed. “As your night stand?”

“Yeah.”

“Very well.” Her laughter continued.

Did she just reprogram herself to feel joy? He had to wonder if her hardware was capable of feelings of true joy and amusement. Did it matter? He guessed it didn’t; she sounded cute either way.

When she was finished with her newfound emotion, she said off-handedly, “I’d like you to scout the Arrakis outpost on foot. The sensor can’t pierce its hull. Will that be fine?”

Now he was laughing. “Good joke.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yeah, good joke, but I’ll still do it.” The adventurous spirit in his heart was egging him on.

“Thank you, Silas.”