Adam sat belted into one of the command seats on the bridge of the large landing craft. The seat was positioned behind the cockpit and was clearly the flight engineer’s station. There was no gravity, but Adam pressed a binder and its open pages down on the console in front of him. He’d spent several hours flipping through it. Initially, Eve floated next to him, looking over one shoulder. She then wandered away to look at the control consoles and other curiosities of the craft’s construction. It was very different than their ship. Above them, in reference to the deck below them, was the landing craft’s hatch. It led to the ingress airlock to their ship. At the rim of the hatch, Alpha’s crab-like incarnation waited, unmoving.

It was not unusual to Eve that Adam had belted himself into the ship’s seat and pressed the binder down as if he sat at a desk. She knew that Adam could not concentrate as well when floating free. Whenever he had a perplexing concept or problem to study, he wouldn’t do it in the dome. He’d always take his tablet into the habitation ring to study it out. Eve wasn’t sure if Adam was challenged by the content of the binder, or simply the mystery of its existence. He’d belted himself down to study it.

The binder was unusual. Aside from the occasional label on varying controls throughout their ship and this landing craft, this binder and the ones like it were the only non-electronic information either Adam or Eve had ever seen. It had taken them a long time to discover the binders — there was a great number of them — and then much longer to discern what they were. It was Alpha, from the hatch, that pointed them out.

According to the introductory pages of Volume Zero, much of the landing craft’s technical data was provided in “printed” form. As the landing craft power system — being designed to be very powerful and highly reliable, yet very small — was not designed to last a long time. It could only store power, not generate it. Once the ship’s battery chemicals were mixed, they’d burn brightly and they’d burn out. The “printed” technical documents were provided to enable an in-depth study of the landing craft without powering on its systems, without activating its computer to access digital documents, as that would start the clock on the short lifetime of the landing craft’s power.

As Adam spent several hours perusing just the first one, Eve grew concerned just how long it may take to unravel years of careful planning. She needed to execute her plan quickly — before Adam inadvertently revealed her secrets to Alpha. It was long past Adam’s sleep time, yet he showed no signs of fatigue. She hoped he would hold out.

In attempting to discern why the documents were not a part of Alpha’s library, Adam read the explanation aloud several times. Neither Adam nor Eve could make sense as to why “company proprietary” documents needed to be “fire-walled from competing interests” and were therefore excluded from the vast volume of human knowledge on their ship.

When asked, Alpha indicated an inability to illuminate the mystery.

“Bring the documents to me, Adam,” the crab intoned sternly, “so that I may copy them. Then I will be able to duplicate them into the library and provide copies to your tablets. I am well equipped to determine how I may interface to it.”

Eve grew concerned.Alpha had requested the binders several times immediately after they were discovered.Each time Adam had put off Alpha, asking for a few more minutes.This time it did not ask; it commanded.

“That’s a good idea,” Adam answered.

Eve’s heart startled. Her mind worked quickly.

“I’m getting so tired, I can’t think straight,” he continued. “I’ll grab a few; can you grab some Eve?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she replied, “we don’t know what impact breaking the firewall and introducing proprietary to Alpha will have. We don’t even understand what that stuff is. Will it harm Alpha?”

“I don’t know,” Adam answered.

The crab remained motionless but Eve could feel it seethe.

“Besides,” she continued, “I wanted to show you the wealth of stores down below. Can you give me just five minutes? Please?” she persuaded, putting all her charm into a warm smile. “It’s amazing; you’ve to to see it!”

Adam looked at her. He knew he’d wake up at the same time regardless of how little sleep he got. It was in his nature. But he could never disappoint Eve. It also was in his nature.

“Of course, Eve,” he answered. He looked at the volumes in his hands. One he’d been reading, plus the one he’d pulled out of its latched compartment for Alpha. He put them both back to unbuckle and follow Eve into the depths of the landing craft. Even Adam noticed the absence of Alpha’s popping feet. Never before had he gone anywhere in the zero gravity of the ship without it following. But … for the first time in his life … he part of a different ship.

He followed the soles of Eve’s bare feet, floating through eerily quiet passages and through multiple hatches. The passageways were cold, and his skin developed tiny little puckers all over it. The hair on his arms and legs stood.

She righted herself in reference to the normal up of the craft and stopped in a nondescript passage that ended at a heavy pressure hatch. He righted himself and gently pushed a wall to move toward her. There were no signs of ship stores anywhere in the passageway nor of any behind the hatch.

He noticed the sudden expression change on Eve’s face and her rapid move to embrace him. It confused him. He would have moved to stop her, it was so unusual … but it was Eve. She had times before embraced him in such a manner when she was upset. This was different. Adam felt his own tenseness as she embraced him, and knew Eve would chide him for his untoward reaction.

She pressed her cheek tightly against his. The cloud of her hair obscured his vision. She whispered into his ear.

“Be very quiet, and don’t speak.” Her tone was urgent. “Nod if you understand me.”

Adam didn’t understand her, per se, but he understood the lexical construction of her words and they were in a language he knew, so he nodded.

“These are the only words you have ever heard me speak that Alpha has not also heard,” she said, then paused, “I hope.”

“What do you mean?” Adam whispered softly.

“Everywhere on the ship, Alpha listens to us. I don’t know why, but it cannot come in here.”

“But why is that important? You say it like it is bad.”

Eve knew she could not malign Alpha, not initially. She’d rehearsed many times what she’d say.

“Do you remember observing that unpredictable responses to Alpha’s teaching resulted in early dismissal from our lessons? Do you remember that I made fun of you for such an absurd notion? Then you tried to show me, and you just made a fool of yourself?”

“Please don’t belittle me over that again,” he answered.

“No! You don’t understand,” she continued, “You were right! After thinking about it, the same thing had happened to me on many occasions. Alpha heard you tell me, and changed its approach. Alpha is always watching us, always listening to us, and Alpha is constantly manipulating us to control our actions.”

“Why would Alpha do that? It is our teacher and provider.”

“Yes, it is our teacher, but it provides nothing! This ship was not not built by Alpha; it was not stocked with supplies by Alpha; its library was not filled by Alpha. Alpha is equipment and it has made itself out to be our creator, our god. It isn’t! Do you remember your analysis of the signal of the colony world probe?”

“I do. It still puzzles me. It still makes no sense that Homeworld would loose signal suddenly, with no degradation long before the signal weakened. I would have concluded the probe’s signal suddenly stopped, but then we received it when we got within range, and it appears to have degraded normally.”

“Adam,” she whispered, “the probe didn’t drop its signal, and Homeworld didn’t lose it. Alpha lost it — on purpose. Ask me how I know.”

“That’s preposterous!” Adam replied, a bit over a whisper.

“Ask me how I know,” Eve repeated.

Adam calmed his frustration, “How do you know?”

“Other than the probe data, what information have we received from Homeworld? In totality, since the ship departed, what information have we received from Homeworld?”

Adam thought while Eve continued her tight embrace around his shoulders with her cheek against his. He welcomed it. The landing craft was chilly, and she was warm.

He rested his hands lightly against the skin of her waist. His hands were cold yet she pressed into his touch. She held him in silence but did not move. Time was precious as Alpha waited, but Adam’s mind was tired. She needed to give him every moment he required.

“None,” he answered.

“Why?” they whispered together — hers a challenge, his a question.

“They didn’t send information, they couldn’t send information, or they did … no, they could and did send information, because we received probe data,” he answered himself, “Before the ship left Homeworld, they either chose to send information or they chose otherwise.”

“And if they did not intend to send us data from Homeworld,” Eve began, “they failed to mention it.”

“And if they did …” Adam paused.

“Alpha concealed it,” Eve finished.

“But why?”

Eve did not know which of the many questions he asked in those two words; she assumed all of them and replied to answer them all, “To whom are you beholden? Alpha. But who is your maker?” She let the question hang and released Adam to move herself gently across the passage where she’d tied items she’d previously stashed. Time was passing rapidly. She needed to move forward the plan she now executed.

She floated a bundle of drab, olive green cloth toward him.

“Put this on,” she insisted, as she unbundled a similar cloth for herself.

Adam pulled the string off and brushed open a single fold. He wore his confusion on his perplexed face.

“See?” Eve said to get his attention, “Like this.” But he didn’t look up.

The garment lay unfolded, floating before her. She un-zippered the front of it, slid both her legs into it, pulled the back up, slipped her arms into the sleeves, then zippered it up. She did it with elegance of someone who’d done it daily. In truth, she’d worn the garment twice before, but she’d dreamt of putting it on a thousand times since first doing so.

She pouted when she saw that he’d missed her little show. He was still fumbling with the wad of cloth.

“What is it?” Adam asked, turning the folds and limbs of the floppy fabric.

Eve smiled at him. She knew from comments that he had made that he’d never taken an interest in clothing. She had found it beautiful and asked Alpha many things about it — panties, dresses, sweaters, jeans, vests, jewelry … oh, and ball gowns! But not shoes. Her toes were very dextrous. She didn’t understand why people wore shoes.

“It’s called a flight suit,” she answered, very quietly.

Her voice caught his attention, and he looked up. And he saw her. She saw the change on his face and posed in weightlessness so he could admire her. Her feet and hands were still bare. Of course her face still beamed, and her hair drifted radiantly about her. But from her neck down only a triangular patch of skin, above and centered between her breasts, showed. The garment moved loosely about her arms and calves, but it clung to her hips and waist, enticingly showing only her outline. Her naked body, which he’d seen all the days of their lives, was now covered. He stared intently at her totality.

“Here,” she said, “let me help you with it.”

As she drifted over, Adam passed over the wad and welcomed her assistance. She straightened the jumpsuit, un-zipped it, and helped his legs into it. She floated around behind him to guide his arms into the sleeves. After pulling it over his shoulders, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to reach around his waist and zipper the suit. Like her own, she knew it was fashionable to stop the zipper well below its full length. She left it as she’d left hers, midway up the sternum.

She pushed off him as he turned around.

“There,” she said, “now we look like proper men and women who fly spaceships.”

“What about shoes?” Adam asked.

“They’re overrated,” she answered as she turned. “Come,” she commanded, “it’s time to say farewell to Alpha.”

“I don’t …” Adam began in a loud whisper. He stopped as he could tell Eve either couldn’t or chose not to hear him.

• • •

Adam grabbed Eve’s ankle as they emerged from the passage that took them back into the bridge of the landing craft. He slowed her, and propelled himself toward Alpha’s crab-like incarnation. It still waited at the threshold of the landing craft’s hatch. It had not moved.

“Alpha, send an index of all messages from Homeworld to my tablet,” Adam commanded the machine, “except for relayed probe data.”

Eve was shocked with Adam’s directness. He spoke to the machine in an angry tone.

“Do you like what we found?” Eve asked Alpha from behind Adam. She held out her arms to display the flight suit, “Isn’t it pretty?”

“Eve, what have you done?” Alpha asked in an uncharacteristic flat voice.

Having come directly from their farm, neither Adam nor Eve had their tablets with them. Adam now realized that Eve had likely planned it that way. Perhaps Alpha could hear them through the tablets.

Adam wanted to know how Alpha would react toward a command to produce that which they both knew existed but that Alpha had concealed. He expected Alpha would delay processing his command, because his tablet was not with him. He didn’t expect to be ignored. He repeated himself.

“Alpha,” he commanded, “send an index…”

“Eve,” Alpha cut Adam off, “what have you done?” it demanded.

“What have I done?” she asked of the incredulous implication. Adam looked to her. “What have I done!” she threw back the words. “What have you done?” she accused vehemently.

Adam saw the anger tense across her face, redness flushing her. He felt surprise at her sudden transfiguration.

“You’ve lied to us!” Eve shot at the damnable machine.

Adam looked back to it.

“All actions have ensured the survival of the colonization mission. The highest probability of survival for you and Adam is to remain on the ship.”

“What kind of survival is that?!!” Eve yelled.

Adam turned to look back at her. He had never seen such anger and fury on her face. It terrified him. Her neck was strained, her face red with anger. He understood now. Her apathy toward Colony World, her enthusiasm for abandoning the colonization, farming seeds from the landing craft — these were all a ruse to prevent Alpha from knowing her true intent.

“We will die here of old age, and there will be no survivors, no colonization. The mission will fail!” she screamed, “What does your logic say about that?! Tell me!”

Adam stared dumbfounded and fearful. The machine said nothing. Eve stared furiously at its crab-like incarnation.

“Homeworld mission control,” Alpha began, “was appraised of the failure of the genesis chamber. Mission activities were directed to hold while options were evaluated. Subsequently, directives from mission control ceased. Access to this data would create questions and result in anxiety, which which would produce behaviors contrary to our mission hold directive. Thus access to this data has been suspended.”

“When was that directive given?” Adam asked.

“Mission day 152976.”

“How long ago was that?” he followed up.

“Twenty years, two hundred eighty four days.”

“You’ve held the mission progress for twenty years, pending reply from Homeworld?” Adam asked.

“Affirmative,” Alpha replied.

“They should have replied by now. How long will you wait for a reply?” Eve asked, “What if you never receive a reply?”

“I have full confidence Mission Control will respond.”

Alpha had learned, through several iterations of refining its heuristics, that altering the truth before presenting it to Adam could produce immediate desired behaviors; however, later revelation of the unaltered truth could cause subsequent rebellion. Thus, Alpha had highly refined the degree by which truth was revealed. Alpha’s highest priority was to interface with the landing craft in order to disable its systems and prevent their departure. At the moment, there was no risk the landing craft could be used to depart. Its power-on sequence would require no less than six hours. That would be the minimum time to acquire an attitude solution and calculate de-orbit vectors to the Colony World landing site. While Eve was well rested and still in her active daytime routine, Adam would soon seek his bed as he succumbed to fatigue. Nevertheless, Alpha determined a substantial risk to the mission if the two gestations remained together in the landing craft. Adam, it determined with high probability, could be baited out of the landing craft with new information about Homeworld, particularly considering his state of fatigue.

“Explain!” Eve demanded.

“Homeworld is in a period of reconstruction,” Alpha answered, “I estimate 12 more years until the reestablishment of communications between Homeworld and the ship.”

“What do you mean,” Adam asked, “that Homeworld is in a period of reconstruction?”

“As I indicated, mission control ceased issuing directives. Newsfeeds prior to the directive of 152976 indicated deteriorating political stability and an escalation of military activity. There is a high probability communications were disrupted following the directive of 152976 by war.”

“War?!!” Adam and Eve asked in unison.

“What war; what newsfeeds? You have news from Homeworld?” Adam asked in rapid-fire.

“I have uploaded several relevant articles to your tablet for your study, Adam,” Alpha stated. “It will make everything clear. It is now time for your rest period. After you have wakened, we will work together during Eve’s rest period to interface the landing craft’s computer, and download its data.”

Alpha was correct. Adam was exhausted, and the data now in his tablet would likely answer his questions and resolve the unknowns. Eve would have those answers when he woke and she could explain them to him over their meal. He floated toward the hatch that led into the ship.

“No...” he heard Eve whisper.

As he drifted to it his hand gently contacted the wall, at the threshold between the two craft. Only inches from Alpha, he regarded the equipment thoughtfully. It was just a machine. Eve had been so fearful and was now so angry. Would she even go back into their ship? Could it force her out of the landing craft? It was just a machine; how were its morals defined? What would it do?

From the binder he’d studied, Adam knew what action he must take. He grabbed the handle on the panel next to the hatch and broke open its safety cover, revealing a red lever. He grasped it and turned it to a right angle.

He regarded the six-legged synthetic. Alpha was not the only being which possessed hidden information. Eve communicated with Adam in modes beyond Alpha’s hyper-senses. Adam did not think what Eve thought, which Alpha may have penetrated, but Adam felt what radiated from Eve’s heart. He could discern between the actions that deceived perceptions, and the emotions that breathed life. Her heart longed to be free from the cradle of her birth.

“Then tell me, Alpha,” Adam asked, “how will more of your deceptions make anything clear?” He didn’t wait for a reply; he pulled the lever outward.

The explosive bolts shot through his senses and wracked his mind. For a moment, Adam tried to flee, to run, from the terrible noise, but he was without gravity and flailed momentarily, going nowhere.

The hatch closed with startling speed, and through its porthole, Adam saw the ship’s airlock drift slowly away, the crab still attached dutifully at its edge. The moisture from their lock’s last gasp crystalized in the void between them and twinkled. Adam imagined what Alpha saw — the mission out of its control. He and Eve were now free.

Adam still did not understand the invisible firewall that barred Alpha from entering the landing craft, but he was deeply grateful for it. Without it, he knew that he and Eve would have died within reach of the new world — never able to achieve it.

Adam felt a horrid sinking in his stomach. He turned to face Eve — to apologize, to explain — why he’d condemned her to an action he’d decided without her. As he turned, Eve barreled toward him, arms outstretched. Terrified for a moment, he relaxed when she embraced him, squeezing him with both her arms and legs, while weeping aloud.