Etchings and Scribbles

I woke up the next day and started diagnosing the main thrusters. It wasn’t tough: fuel lines had severed when we took impact back on BRK, the whole engine had shunted itself about 30cm to the right, and the control box was fried. Another message out to Jaima, (“Hey there! One more run if you could…”) and within the hour he was down to me. I used that spare time to replace the plumbing in my bathroom so finally my sink and shower were working. “Mornin’ there, Cordrak. They had the fuel lines and the electrical, but that model of control unit ain’t something we come by very often.” I snapped my fingers, “Damn… means I’ll have to try and find one while I’m out and about.” “You be careful now, you been good to me while you was here, I won’t forget that.” I smiled to him, “No need to worry, Jaima. I appreciate all the back and forth you’ve been doing for me.” He smiled, gave me a wave, and walked off to who knows where. Keeper save you, Jaima. You seem like decent folk. Well, as decent as ...

Jaima put a hand on my shoulder and walked me behind one of the pivot thrusters, concealing our bodies from the main dock ramp, but not from the multitude of other cameras that were watching every inch of the platform itself.  “Rumor has it,” Jaima began slowly, looking around nervously, licking dry lips, “they was testin’ a new kinda collar out there. S’posed to make the uh… the working folks more amenable to… suggestions and what not.” I was flicking through an order app on my tablet, looking for the materials I needed for repairs: some generic panels to weld together, a couple rolls of glasstic insulation, a new PlasSaw… “Yeah, Mirt mentioned something about a prototype out there. What’s that got to do with ghosts though?” “Ah, see we been hearing chirps over the radio for months now. Weird stuff, commands, ideas, sometimes it just sounded like someone ranting for a few minutes about nothing in particular.” I looked up from my order sheet, “What kind of weird stuff? Like… people...

 My eye twitched again, were both of these bots working against me? Trying to convince me I was crazy? How could I space both of them before they managed to space me? My mind raced, trying to plot and scheme, as though my stupid squishy meat brain could outpace a literal AI and an malevolent machine intelligence. “What I saw…” I had to really try to remember, it was like a dream already starting to slip away the longer I was awake again, “what… I heard…” “SHHCKk-e have you on radar, over. Your IFF is non-responsive. Reply or be fired upon. Repeat, do you require assistance?” My eyes shot open, locked on the radio console. Frantically I slapped the extra windows away and punched the Comms button, “Hello? Hello! Yes, we require assistance!” “Understood, your IFF is either damaged or disabled. Send along your RegistrationID and we’ll see what we can do about getting you a tow.” My RegID? Shit, Din said he had finished decrypting that bu-  “Sending Registration.”  I glared at...