came into her. An animal fear. A fear like she’d never tasted before. All her senses told her to run, but her duty held her tight, and she was bound to repay her father. Bound to get something for the machine gods.
She pushed away the fear and stepped forward.
And then something moved.
The metallic arm creaked up from the chest of the mummified man. It hung in mid-air for a moment. Its fingers opened from a fist and gently slid the corpse aside like a featherlight bird. Leather crackled and bones jangled as the man came to rest.
Denali stared, wanting to run, but too curious not to. The thing she stared at was similar—but different—from the skelebots. Where the skelebots were hard edges, like a skeleton of steel, this was smooth, almost plump in places, with cracked plastic panels and a yellowed tint. Its sea blue eyes were wide, downcast, and sorrowful. Like it cared so much, but nothing cared for it.
“A dog.” It looked at Denali with sad eyes.
“Yes,” Denali whispered in a tiny whisper.
The bot cocked its head and folded is fingers onto its lap. “It speaks?” Its voice was proper, simple, and Denali liked the sound.
“How old are you?” Denali asked. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Then she noticed that it was pierced to the wall with a beam of metal.
“I’ve seen the gorillas off G142. Then there was that pack of chimpanzees, stage hands, and good ones, below Rigel. A horrible little place, but the theatre was definitely Shakespeare. Finally there was the little gibbons, they are all hands and tools. They patched the ships quite beautifully.” It looked hard at Denali. “But not a dog. Will men try to curse everything with a conscience?”
Denali didn’t know what to say. The usual fire inside of her seemed to have gone out.
“They fought ‘til the end,” it stated. “I kept them alive as long as I could,” It said. “Are you? No, not a dog, they’d send a man.” It looked to the corpse next to it. “Can you find a man?”
“They’re gone,” Denali said.
“His name was James,” the bot said sadly. It brushed a crisp lock of hair off the drum tight face. “He was my friend.”
Denali stood in silence and felt the fear trembling inside of her. She didn’t know if she could stay or go—either way, she had to do something. The cool stillness of the place was getting to her.
“Twelve hundred.”
“What?” Denali asked, surprised.
“Twelve hundred years, Terran Standard, corrected for position, stabilized for oscillation, variance quoted for dark matter crossing.”
The number was big. Bigger than any Denali had ever heard. The time meant nothing to her, it was simply a very long time.
“Do you have a name?” it asked.
“Denali.”
It nodded. “I knew a Denali once.” The face seemed to lighten and the eyes changed color to a more pleasant blue. “What do you want, Denali?”
Then she found herself telling the bot everything. She didn’t know why. She couldn’t place the feeling, but there was something about seeing a man, and speaking with something a men created. She told it of her family, of the other dogs, of the attack by the skelebots, and her reason for being. It did nothing but listen.
“Tribal society,” it muttered, and nodded. “You seek a Vee core.”
“Vee core?”
“There is only one left here. We were once so common.”
“Where?” Denali asked, creeping closer to the bot.
It tapped its chest. “I’ve no use for it. Please, release it.” It pointed to the top of a cylinder with an aged plastic finger.
Denali crept closer one paw at a time, not quite sure what to expect. She didn’t trust the thing, but she wanted what was on its chest.
She reached out, tapped the center, and jumped back. The canister popped out with a click.
“Once it’s out, things on this vessel will fail.” The voice wavered before snapping back. “There was much damage in the fall. So much. I can’t see it all.” Its voice drifted
She pushed away the fear and stepped forward.
And then something moved.
The metallic arm creaked up from the chest of the mummified man. It hung in mid-air for a moment. Its fingers opened from a fist and gently slid the corpse aside like a featherlight bird. Leather crackled and bones jangled as the man came to rest.
Denali stared, wanting to run, but too curious not to. The thing she stared at was similar—but different—from the skelebots. Where the skelebots were hard edges, like a skeleton of steel, this was smooth, almost plump in places, with cracked plastic panels and a yellowed tint. Its sea blue eyes were wide, downcast, and sorrowful. Like it cared so much, but nothing cared for it.
“A dog.” It looked at Denali with sad eyes.
“Yes,” Denali whispered in a tiny whisper.
The bot cocked its head and folded is fingers onto its lap. “It speaks?” Its voice was proper, simple, and Denali liked the sound.
“How old are you?” Denali asked. She couldn’t think of anything else to say. Then she noticed that it was pierced to the wall with a beam of metal.
“I’ve seen the gorillas off G142. Then there was that pack of chimpanzees, stage hands, and good ones, below Rigel. A horrible little place, but the theatre was definitely Shakespeare. Finally there was the little gibbons, they are all hands and tools. They patched the ships quite beautifully.” It looked hard at Denali. “But not a dog. Will men try to curse everything with a conscience?”
Denali didn’t know what to say. The usual fire inside of her seemed to have gone out.
“They fought ‘til the end,” it stated. “I kept them alive as long as I could,” It said. “Are you? No, not a dog, they’d send a man.” It looked to the corpse next to it. “Can you find a man?”
“They’re gone,” Denali said.
“His name was James,” the bot said sadly. It brushed a crisp lock of hair off the drum tight face. “He was my friend.”
Denali stood in silence and felt the fear trembling inside of her. She didn’t know if she could stay or go—either way, she had to do something. The cool stillness of the place was getting to her.
“Twelve hundred.”
“What?” Denali asked, surprised.
“Twelve hundred years, Terran Standard, corrected for position, stabilized for oscillation, variance quoted for dark matter crossing.”
The number was big. Bigger than any Denali had ever heard. The time meant nothing to her, it was simply a very long time.
“Do you have a name?” it asked.
“Denali.”
It nodded. “I knew a Denali once.” The face seemed to lighten and the eyes changed color to a more pleasant blue. “What do you want, Denali?”
Then she found herself telling the bot everything. She didn’t know why. She couldn’t place the feeling, but there was something about seeing a man, and speaking with something a men created. She told it of her family, of the other dogs, of the attack by the skelebots, and her reason for being. It did nothing but listen.
“Tribal society,” it muttered, and nodded. “You seek a Vee core.”
“Vee core?”
“There is only one left here. We were once so common.”
“Where?” Denali asked, creeping closer to the bot.
It tapped its chest. “I’ve no use for it. Please, release it.” It pointed to the top of a cylinder with an aged plastic finger.
Denali crept closer one paw at a time, not quite sure what to expect. She didn’t trust the thing, but she wanted what was on its chest.
She reached out, tapped the center, and jumped back. The canister popped out with a click.
“Once it’s out, things on this vessel will fail.” The voice wavered before snapping back. “There was much damage in the fall. So much. I can’t see it all.” Its voice drifted
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