Had she heard that right?

“A dormant AI?”

“Though perhaps not as dormant as we might think,” said Kaine.

“Wait. Backtrack a second. Are you saying the ship always had an AI, even before Nim got...”

She trailed off, having trouble saying the words.

He nodded. “Yes. What I found in the hold... a little red box. It’s a backup cache. All these older models had them. The newer ones don’t, because they’re supposed to be more secure, so their AIs are less likely to get corrupted.”

“Corrupted?”

The shuttle stopped in front of a large building and they stepped out, the little girl following.

“These older systems were more prone to degradation—whether from exposure to space particles, radiation, or more simply aging. Point is, those AIs were designed to make backups of themselves every time there was a risk of deterioration. But that red box is empty. Or, rather, appears to be empty.”

“You don’t think it is?”

“It’s the source of the space rift, so I’m guessing not. It’s as if it’s pretending to be dead.”

“Let me get this straight. We have an AI pretending to be dead and creating space rifts out of the blue?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“Why?”

“Hell if I know.”

She had so many questions now, but they would have to wait. They had walked down a long hall and had now arrived at a booth. There were two locked doors on each side. A woman sat behind a glass pane. She looked up at them with a bored expression.

“What is the purpose of your visit?”

“Personal,” said Kaine.

The woman threw him a disgusted look.

“Could you be more vague?”

Val cleared her throat.

“We’re visiting friends,” she said.

“Names?”

That caught her by surprise. She blinked a couple of times, then made up two names.

The woman clicked her tongue.

“I meant your names!”

“Oh.” She didn’t want to give her real one, so she decided to use one of her fakes. “I’m Diin.”

The clerk frowned. “Are you trying to annoy me? Cause I have to tell you, it’s working. Full names.”

Why the heck would she ask that? She threw Kaine a puzzled look. No spaceport had ever been this stringent. And there weren’t even any Impies around that she could see—which was a relief, even if odd in the middle of the Imperium.

She looked back at the woman.

“Diin Arwen,” she lied.

The clerk lowered her head and typed on a terminal that was out of her sight. The frown on her face increased as she looked up.

“This has been flagged as a fake name. Be advised that we require your real name. Any further attempts to circumvent the system may get you fined or imprisoned, depending on my mood. And I have to say, it’s rather foul at the moment.”

Val stared at the woman.

Was she for real?

How could she know she had used a fake name?

“If it can ease your mind,” added the clerk, “no information you provide will be shared with the Imperial government. Our databases are privately owned. Any attempts to seize them would destroy the data.”

She had to remind herself this was a world filled with criminals. Likely, the database in question belonged to a local kingpin. She wasn’t sure that was much better than having her information collected by the Imperium.

Still, it didn’t look like they had a choice.

As if to confirm her suspicion, the woman grunted.

“If you prefer not to provide the information, you are welcome to head back to your ship and leave the planet.”

Val sighed.

“Very well. My name is Valentina Corenth.”

The woman bent down to tap on her machine. After a couple of seconds, she glanced up and nodded. “Welcome to Derkanash, Mrs. Corenth. Please step aside while I process your husband.”

“He’s not my husband,” she hissed.

The woman shrugged. “Not my business, but please step aside.”

Val did so, and Kaine approached the booth.

“Name, please,” said the clerk. Kaine leaned closer to the glass and muttered an answer. “I can’t hear you, sir. You’ll need to speak louder.”

He groaned. “Hardwin Manguth.”

“Very well. One moment, please.”

Val stared at her friend as the woman bent down again. Kaine raised his right arm in the air without looking at her.

“Don’t!” he warned.

“Hardwin?”

“It’s not like I chose the damn name,” he grumbled.

She laughed. “You should sue your parents.”

“I would if I knew where they were.”

She blinked. “What?”

The woman lifted her head. “The girl, now.”

“She’s mute,” said Kaine. “But her name is Ondine.”

“Just Ondine?”

“That’s all we know.”

The woman quirked a brow but didn’t press him with further questions. She looked down, tapped, looked up.

“Thank you for your cooperation. You are all cleared for entry. Welcome to Derkanash.”

The door on the right clicked and opened as a green light flashed all along its edges.

The three of them stepped through, entering another lengthy hall.

“Well, that was weird,” muttered Kaine.

“Not as weird as your name,” snickered Val.

He rolled his eyes.

Ondine grabbed their hands and pulled on them.

“I think our little friend is in a hurry,” he said.

They followed her as she ran through the hall.

At the end, she opened a door, and they stepped out into a dark and crowded street. It was raining, but it did not seem to bother the girl.

She turned to the left and hurried down the sidewalk.

“She seems to know where she’s going,” said Val as they followed the child.

After a few minutes of turning down various streets and alleys—each less crowded than the previous—Ondine stopped in front of a large metal door. It was unhinged, and the windows on the sides were broken.

The door creaked when the girl pushed through and disappeared inside.

Val and Kaine exchanged a look before following her in.

The place was a mess.

Damaged furniture lay everywhere. The wooden floor—covered with a thick layer of dust—creaked under the weight of their steps. Bugs scurried across the walls. The air was damp and stunk of mold.

“What is this place?” whispered Val.

They heard Ondine’s footsteps echoing in the distance. It sounded like she was running down steps.

Following the sound, they found the staircase.

Kaine looked as baffled as she felt.

She took a deep breath and started down the steps.

They soon arrived in a new hall with four doors. The one on the far right was open.

They went in.

The room had long, dusty tables and overturned stools. The table was covered with vials, forceps, goggles, and other broken equipment. Flasks and beakers had long emptied their contents on the stained surface.

“This looks like a laboratory,” said Kaine.

In the middle of the room, Ondine sat on the floor.

Sobbing.