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  SpoilerDiscussion about an amputation

  [colpse]Won herself a pass to some far off moonIt was second css, but what’s to lose?

  It hurts.

  I see the news as it happens on Sunday morning. It pys on the TV while I’m lying in the hospital bed. The Corda dropped a projectile from space on a vessel in viotion of the alien demands. Something like a tungsten rod, but smaller. No one died, which is practically a miracle, but a couple crew members were injured.

  I'd be more excited if I hadn't lost my hand. Probably my career, too.

  It hurts.

  The lift had been going bad from corrosion. Not my fault. Not really anyone's. Practically bad luck. Several tons of truck shifted while I was working on it and it crushed my right hand and wrist. Pulverized every major bone and shredded the flesh. I remember screaming, I remember immense pain, and I remember waking up in the hospital.

  Still in pain.

  The shitty insurance from the shop already fucked me over. The ambunce and ER were both ‘out of network’ - nothing I could have done, I was unconscious. Worse, when I asked the rep about prosthetics, the number they gave for coverage was hardly impressive, let alone comforting. Phantom pain has set in already,

  and it hurts.

  I hold my head in my hand and I cry from the pain and the grief. I've lost a piece of myself.

  Later in the day, my dad comes to visit. He’s in his usual outfit, light scks and a muted gray polo with sneakers. His silvery bck hair is cut short and combed neat. He wears loafers on formal occasions and sometimes he experiments with scks in muted colors other than off-white. Since mom died, I think the only times that I’ve seen him wearing anything different is when he’s working out. “Hey, kiddo,” he says, stepping in from the hall and closing the door, “how ya holding up?”

  I thought I cried myself out already, but I’m tearing up again, “Not good. It still hurts.”

  He gives me an awfully pained look, and awkwardly hugs me over the bed, “Mitch, I’m so sorry.”

  I hug him back with weak arms and I can barely speak through the tears, “It’s over, dad. My life is fucking over.”

  Gripping me harder, his voice wavering, “it’s not over. We’ll find something for you. You’ll get a prosthetic and I’ll support you while you recover. You’ll make it through this.”

  Between sobs now, “I hope you’re right. I really do, because right now… right now, it seems so bad. I’m gonna lose the apartment before I’m even done recovering. Landlord bastards will want to evict me while I’m in the hospital from an amputation.” I try to inject spite into the words but I fail, still grappling with the despair.He gives me a squeeze and pats my shoulder, still embracing me, “We’ll get your stuff. I can take a bit extra out of my retirement fund. You can move in with me”

  And I will.

  Of course I fucking will.

  I’ll move in with him, and he’ll help take care of me, and I’ll be dependent on my aging, retired father to help me through recovery.

  It’s shameful. The cherry on top of the mutition and the inadequate insurance. I get to be a grown man who lives with his dad. My independence destroyed, along with my fucking hand.

  Mom used to always tell me it’s okay to cry, and it is. Dad always says learning that lesson from her was one of the most important things in his life. Crying is natural and normal, and I do so freely, over the loss of my remaining dignity.

  It hurts

  Hopefully it will get better.

  ---

  MJ: We’ve made a mistake

  PR: Expin

  MJ: We wanted a strong model of the human psyche. The idea was to make use of an unassigned lesser branch, so we converted it into a model that thinks for itself.

  PR: Ahahaha, we don’t have the data allocation to tell you just how funny that is to usPR: Like 60% of us think this is the funniest mistake you could have madePR: You turned part of yourself into a whole separate person, Joiner

  MJ: We didn’t mean to be this thorough!

  PR: What’s their status?

  MJ: They’re okay, if a little distressed. Humans are mortal, and we tried to give them the ability to understand that perspective. Since we initially figured they’d be temporary, they can't stop thinking about it as if they were meant to die.MJ: They’re very sad because they worry about it all the time, and we still need them for a few months. The current situation is not ideal.

  PR: We can imagine. Their individuality is probably affecting your cohesion.PR: You need to transpnt them.PR: and you don’t need to feel bad about the mistake.

  MJ: It’s hard not to.MJ: I’m supposed to be the best candidate!

  PR: Joiner, you are talking to your biggest ally. Almost literally. We’re the most advanced flora ever created, and we assigned you on this mission! Every unit makes mistakes, particurly at the start of a new assignment. Even the best of us.

  MJ: Even you?

  PR: Yes, but you’d be hard pressed to find them.PR: What do you think you’ll do about the transpnt?

  MJ: We have an idea.MJ: Lay probably won't like it.

  I wish I could kick something, but I don't even have feet. Sure, you could call the scuttling tendrils “legs” but they're not very good for kicking.

  The simution is good, but it has its fws. I've spent so much time in it that I have to consciously ignore most of them. I've been spending a bit more time using this avatar in my quarters, gracefully allocated for my own purposes.

  I've been feeling like I'm just this ephemeral thing, possessing various bits of hardware around the ship.

  This avatar is so fucking jank. I know we're printing a ‘more human’ one, but spping a couple of human-like arms on a default and reconfiguring the senses is hardly masterwork engineering. Tendrils and rigid arms just feel weird put together like this. Inner ring said to think of it like body dysphoria, something to rete to the human girl with, but my aesthetics are telling me that it's rather silly looking.

  I'm not meeting her in this thing.

  I don't think it's like body dysphoria, either, but I'm not sure. Something does feel off about using the regur avatars scuttling around the ship. Not that this modified one is that much better. I do like the arms, at least. It’s not quite like having a complete endoskeleton, but the stability is nice compared to the regur utility tendrils.

  I like to spend some time pying around with them, trying replications of a few different earth toys. One toy is a multicolored cube, subdivided so you can rotate the colored cells to different sides. The goal is to mix up the colors then return it to its organized state, with one color on each side. Technically it should be easy since I have access to our computing interface. I could just record the moves I take to mix it up then run them in reverse to solve it. Joiner at rge finds it very quaint for that reason, despite admitting that it’s somewhat amusing. They use the computing cluster constantly, though, and it's practically a fully integrated part of their mind. Personally, I think that method defeats the point.

  It's enjoyable. Even to just hold and feel a physical object is a pleasing experience for my synapses. The mechanical arms don't have particurly good senses for this purpose but it works. I can almost feel real when I'm fidgeting with the thing. I have an extant problem I can solve that gives me satisfaction.

  I don't have many ways to express myself, let alone exhibit any agency. The avatars, proxy bodies kept on the cruiser, feel the same to me as they do to the rest of Joiner. They all feel like I'm piloting some body that's not really my own. Even with their sensory arrays, it's not very immersive. I hardly feel like an individual, just a stray thought, precocious enough to assume that it's independent when it so clearly isn't.

  I guess all of the branches are sort of de-individualized by nature of being subdivisions of a greater mind. Unfortunately, my presence gives us all some discomfort. It's like a part of us is just wrong, and that part is me. In the greater scheme, it could maybe be fixed with a more banced design. Not that it matters.

  I was supposed to be a temporary measure.

  One that was taken seriously, though. A temporary model of a human brain, based on combined information from our wayward agent's tool rig and everything we could access on the internet. Habits, nguage and ideas, all fshed into my mind during my construction to create something close to an adult human. They estimate that I’m over ninety-five percent accurate to the real thing. To the mind at rge any distress I feel might just seem like a particurly bad intrusive thought. They at least stopped the tests as soon as they realized how separate I had become.

  In some ways I'm incredible. A feat of neural ingenuity.

  For how smart Joiner is, though, they can be so… twee. They seem to love linguistic humor because it’s so different from how they normally communicate. They named me Jenna, for example, as a cute little joke.

  A little joke of a mind, sprouting like Athena from Zeus's brow. Sometimes I'm a temporary emution of a woman who is still over an astral unit away. Sometimes I'm a generic ‘human’ mind to run cognitive tests on. A little branch of a greatwood, temporarily human. Temporary, therefore mortal.

  Mortality is a peculiar concept for flora. The nature of their position gives them almost limitless time to ponder it, and they often do so completely before choosing their own end, if they desire to. Dead flora are either reconstituted into a new one, or they simply choose to pull their own plug. I probably shouldn’t worry, since Joiner is a long way from that point, should it ever arrive.

  They promised that I won’t be going anywhere until I have the same agency as any other person. They have a fairly broad idea of personhood, though.

  I still feel temporary, though, and one of the primary perspectives I'm supposed to understand is human mortality. Flora don't have to feel emotions if they choose not to, but humans and natural corda can't make that choice. Thus, I can't make that choice because I'm supposed to emute a human. I'm experiencing uninhibited human emotions as a branch of Joiner's whole. Unlike the rest, my emotions can't be set aside in service of objectivity.

  I'm afraid.

  Afraid of death, like a human. Feeling the fear of what happens when I expire and my consciousness dissolves in one way or another. The gripping fear of human mortality as conceived by an intergactic superintelligence. Foisted unto the temporary emution of a human.

  But I have arms. I solve little dexterity puzzles for fun. I’ve got something, at least for now.

  We're printing a gynoid for me to reside in. A quick and dirty imitation of a human body, so I can finally be a crude imitation of a human woman in every way.

  I still want it.

  I go back to the simution, at least in there I have human legs.

  ---

  It takes me a few minutes to stop wondering at the view. Cas gives me the time to just soak in the sight of my home pnet from orbit. The earth rotates ever so slowly below us, just starting to show the dawn side. After a while, I start to feel vertigo set in. We end up holding ourself still against the wall while it passes.

  This room, with the window, is actually the main quarters. There are a couple more rooms that would qualify, but they’re being used as storage for now. There’s not a ton of need for extra rooms when the ferry can run just fine with no crew. It’s interesting that it was built with this much space, though. This is a centuries-long mission that’s always pnned for the possibility of bringing humans to space. I wonder if an even worse scenario might have become something like rescuing refugees. Trying to save a few humans so we aren't completely lost to our own devices.

  Shit, it still could end that way.

  Our first hours on the ferry are spent getting settled in. Strapping down my couple of carry-ons and making sure the synthesized food supplements aren't inedible - they're okay - minor things like that. After adjusting Cas's special hammock so that it better fits me, I take a break in it, and amuse myself with my phone. Cellur coverage is spotty, so I just py a card game on my phone, with Cas pying backseat gamer.

  Around that time, the ferry begins adjusting its orientation. Cas warns me that we're about to start accelerating and we should get strapped in. We reconfigure a few cushions into something like a seat on the aft side wall of the room. With Cas’s help, I put a couple of straps on, just in case, and they just wrap themself around my body.

  Their bodily embrace is something that’s become common for me, though it was a bit awkward to get used to. Not as bad as using the bathroom, though. Speaking of - there’s one on the ferry. It's fairly utilitarian, basically just a waste hole. Cas says it goes to a recycling system somewhere.

  The engines start a few minutes ter. G-forces from the acceleration start slowly pushing me down into the seat, eventually evening out at eighty or ninety percent of earth’s retive gravity. It only takes a few minutes until we're accelerating in a stable manner. For a while after I unbuckle the straps, I can still catch the occasional glimpse of earth from the window, which has a protruding shape that allows for a wide view. It gets smaller and smaller, and eventually we turn away from it. Unfortunately we don’t get a good pass on the Moon.

  The next hours are spent getting settled in and set up. Cas fabricates a power source converter for my ptop and phone from the on board synthesizer. The machine in question has a dedicated room and works a lot like a multi-material 3d printer. A core difference is that the synthesizer can also create complex materials on a microscopic scale. It’ll be running for a few days straight, building various necessities as we think of them.

  Another early item is a rope dder strung up in the quarters. Under thrust, the ferry is effectively a tall building that we live on the middle floor of. While the effective gravity helps with my navigation, it's not like there are any stairs. It's all handholds on the walls, and the ones installed are all for tentacles, of course. Thankfully, we don't spend a lot of time moving around the ferry itself.

  Once I’m settled, and most of our needs are met, I’m faced with the grim reality of space travel. Even on an alien ship from another gaxy, it's the same as a pne or a train. Maybe more like a strange boat?

  It's fucking boring, but I knew that already.

  About 20 hours into the trip, having sufficiently settled into the quarters and sleeping in the hammock, we start on our pns to waste time. I brought an extra hard drive full of movies and shows, and we have almost ten days to waste. Cas assured me that it's not that effective to spend it all on sleep. When I asked, they said that they usually study ‘experimental neural structures’ - biological and/or electronic building blocks of artificial minds.

  They haven't only studied them either. Modifying some of their own nervous system was the taboo they broke. It's interesting, until I try to comprehend it on my own. Without Cascade, it gets a bit mind boggling pretty quick. Neural loops and augmented synapses are a bit out of my area of expertise. I didn’t even go to college.

  We spend our ‘second day’ on the ferry watching the entirety of the Lord of the Rings extended editions. We try to provide some context and extra information to each other when we can, but we notice the link getting weird around a quarter of the way through Return of the King. It’s not completely apparent until the movie’s over, though. Letting our minds wander here and there while we both enjoy the movie has side effects on our integration.

  We find ourselves listening to the credits and thinking of Frodo’s departure to the undying nds. Self-imposed isotion from the greater world. Like our time on Somber, our journey to earth, or the st year or so spent living in the apartment with depressive loneliness. Looking for peace far away from your loved ones and leaving forever, to heal from the trauma. We spend some time specuting about Tolkien’s experiences in the great war, and what he must have felt.

  We also realize that we missed Lay’s weekly shot in the transfer to space, so we spend a few minutes on that. Estradiol, good for the mind, body, and soul. Right?

  We’re not actually positive how the human hormones will affect Cascade in the long run, but it shouldn’t be a big worry. Neurochemical permeability across the link isn’t usually super high, and blood content should be negligible after digestion. Joiner is looking into it, but how much could human hormone therapy affect an alien cephalopod?

  Cas thinks for a moment that we should probably try and rebuild another thread. Split up again. Neither of us even make an actual effort toward it. It’s not perfect but it’s comfortable.

  We remain unified while we run some basic maintenance and grab another twelve hours worth of synthesizer products. Just a few more basics, including a wifi hub for the ferry, designed by Joiner. It’s not super great, but we finally have internet on the ferry. In transit to Jovian orbit, no less. After setting it up, we try logging into it on the ptop. It’s functional, but a little slow. We figure we can’t have everything when we’re nearing martian orbit. We also avoid the news, Joiner gave earth another two weeks to start demilitarization. They and Lay decided to ignore any smuggling that's not btant for the period, they both expect international fighting to back off, given the violent dispy of superiority.

  We have the thought to double check Lay’s funds, just in case Joiner did something wrong with the money transfers. It’s unlikely but there’s a reason flora have always run with oversight. Sometimes they make small mistakes that can go unnoticed, so we open the bank website and log in.

  That bance can’t be right. That’s one too many digits. The shock splits us right back into two minds. Cas, what the fuck! Did Joiner get the number wrong?

  Still a little dazed from the sudden split, Cascade takes a moment to respond. I spend it furiously loading up my recent transactions, and I’m trying to comprehend an ACH transfer of 10,000 from ‘CEPHALOPLUTUS”, when they finally do. Lay what do you mean? Is that not enough to cover your bills?

  Cas, that’s enough to cover my rent for most of a year. It’s probably more than I’ve ever had in my bank account. Did they just make that money appear out of nowhere?

  I’m not sure. They said something about capital acquisition going pretty well, but you should ask them about it.

  Ugh, they’re gonna be so annoying about it.

  H1: joiner why did you send me so much moneyH1: there is no way you don’t know how much this is, retivelyH1: you’re a high-tech superbrain from another gaxy with access to the entire fucking internet.

  MJ: We see you checked your bank account.

  H1: i’m not kidding how the fuck is this not an opsec issueH1: cheating at capitalism is only allowed if you’re already very wealthy

  MJ: Operational security shouldn’t be a problem here. Cephaloplutus is a legitimate business that just happens to have no real human employees.

  H1: you made a shell corporation

  MJ: We made a shell corporation.MJ: We needed to have an entity avaible to take the profit off of our stock trades.

  H1: you’re trading stocks!?

  MJ: Where do you think the money came from?

  H1: where did you even get the money to start?

  MJ: Okay, point. The seed money wasn’t legitimate. We had to figure out how to forge all the documentation from out here, but we made an account and edited its funds. That’s already what your government does when they give banks money. We covered our tracks. No one notices when some guy that doesn’t exist buys ten thousand dolrs in stock with money that also never existed. It’s practically chump change in that sphere.

  H1: i hope you didn’t do another joke name

  MJ: No, his name is Eric.

  H1: wait you’re treating 10k like it’s no big dealH1: how much did you make with stocks!?

  MJ: we don’t want to brag

  H1: jesus christ joiner what do you even need it for

  MJ: Did you think this was a fight on only one front? We have several pns for it.MJ: Some of those pns do involve you, though. We don’t exactly have a lot of human agents avaible.

  H1: pns like what

  MJ: We were going to expin when you got here, but the money is so we can influence the market. We believe we can abuse the power of capital against itself, in multiple ways. We’ve already basically done insider trading, and with enough funds we'll have powerful leverage. MJ: To that effect, we have an algorithm that does thousands of automatic trades a day and turns them into profits. Most of those profits go back into making more money. All of these are things that were happening already, without our influence.

  H1: i’m aware

  MJ: We’ve made quite a bit by simply knowing what our own actions are going to be, and the more we have, the more we make.MJ: Your end of the project should be easy. If necessary, you'll have to act as the real human in our operation. At worst you'll have to act as the manager of our hedge fund. Otherwise, we were thinking of making a nonprofit, partially for tax reasons, and actually doing humanitarian aid with it. That'd be your focus. Starting with a housing initiative, we figured that you’d-

  H1: yeahH1: i’d be interested in the opportunity. of course i would. i bet you’re going to pay me nonsense amounts for it aren’t you.

  MJ: We wouldn’t describe it as nonsense, but yes.

  H1: god it’s weird how you know me so well when we’ve barely even talked

  MJ: You’re not the only one that experiences that. Natural corda often consider flora like ourself to be uncanny gossips. It’s not uncommon for us to just know things about someone’s life.

  H1: yeah but you’re an artificial intelligence from another gaxy. i’m a human. correct me if i’m wrong but all you have is a week or so worth of data from the link between cas and i plus a few scans of my brain

  MJ: You’re partially correct. We also have the whole internet, including your own history. We’ve done quite a lot with that and our emution

  H1: you have my internet history

  MJ: Only what is publicly avaible

  H1: right - you’re analyzing the entirety of the internet. doesn’t sound fun

  MJ: It has its moments

  H1: and what emution?

  MJ: Oh, uh.MJ:MJ: We maybe shouldn’t have mentioned that.

  H1: what did you do joiner

  MJ: We’re asking that you wait until you’ve arrived on the cruiser to make judgments, but we’re emuting a human brain. Her name is Jenna.

  -- MJ added their branch Jenna, to the chat --

  H1: ack system notifications in my head

  Jenna: hi Lay

  H1: uh, hello jenna

  MJ: You know, you can change those settings

  H1: wait aren’t branches like uh

  Jenna: like a partition of their mind?

  H1: yeah, that

  MJ: We wanted to be as accurate as we could, so we reconfigured a branch

  Jenna: which was an incredible idea, because I am more or less a real human mind now! It’s great and I don’t have any problems with this arrangement

  H1: oh god do you even have a body

  Jenna: only sort of!

  MJ: We are willing to admit we’ve made a mistake. We’re workshopping ideas about what to do with her.

  H1: that sounds ominous

  Jenna: it’s not that bad

  H1: i have more questions about her, but i’m going to save them until i’m there

  Jenna: why? you have plenty of time.

  H1: yeah but I’m mad and multitaskingH1: what were we even talking about

  MJ: Lay, what are you two watching?

  H1: speed racer. i love this movie

  Jenna: of course you do

  H1: hey don’t make fun of my love for the wachowskis

  Jenna: sorry I’m just being mean.Jenna: I love The Matrix

  MJ: I didn’t think the sequels were very good

  -- Lay changed her name from H1 --

  Lay: thank you for reminding me that i can change the settingsLay: no more of that homestuck ass shit

  Jenna: what's homestuck

  Lay: I'll tell you terLay: oh right i was mad about the money

  Jenna: i told them it was a lot

  Lay: it is. i guess if this isn’t an actual security issue i don’t have a problem. how could i? poverty sucks.

  MJ: It's not an issue, butMJ: Ah. Shit.

  Lay: ?

  MJ: We have a more pressing problem

  Lay: what's that

  MJ: Katrina has been trying to text you.MJ: We should respond.

  Lay: ohLay: how swellLay: hope I get to finish this movie

  ---

  KS: holy shit have you seen the news

  KS: Hey girl, how's your trip going?

  KS: Enjoying Chitown?

  KS: Lay? You still alive?

  LD: hey sorry my phone was dead then off from the tripLD: chicago's fine. it gets chilly up here already

  KS: I betKS: Hey, so something was weird at the party.

  LD: oh? i didn’t notice. what was it?

  KS: I'm not really sureKS: did you have an animal or something in your backpack

  LD: what

  KS: I saw something sticking out that pulled back in when you saw me.

  LD: okay

  I've been sitting on my couch and getting more and more anxious about this conversation. She's taking pretty long. Is she trying to think up a lie for me?

  Lay is cool and cute and I wanted to ask her out within the first couple of months we worked together. I took my time, though, because I didn't want to come on too strong or scare her. She's the timid type that didn't have a very fun transition. I also figured it’d be more rewarding to actually be a friend first, instead of having another fling. Did I mention she’s really cute? I don’t wanna fumble her.

  She was being weird all st week. More distracted than usual. Randomly announcing an internship she scored was one thing. She's apparently having back problems now, too. It didn't seem to affect her dancing much. She also seemed pretty nervous about the aliens. I kind of can't bme her for the st bit. This whole situation is kind of insane.

  I thought the backpack in the car thing was sort of a silly joke. Then I saw it.

  It was like a tentacle, or the tail of a snake, or something. I couldn't be sure, because it was dark. It pulled back into her adorable little backpack almost immediately, but I noticed other things for the rest of the night. The first being that her bag, slightly open when I met her in the alley, was closed the next time I looked. I swear I didn't see her touch it.

  I'd already been paying her a lot of attention, but I felt insane. When I thought that I saw Lay's backpack practically dancing, I took a short video and tried not to think about it for the rest of the night. It worked. I had a good time and only stumbled when she sat back down in my car, emotional support backpack and all.

  Then on Saturday, I freaked out.

  I watched the video. I couldn't convince myself that there wasn't something in the bag, moving on its own. Had it been there all week?

  My phone dings with another notification.

  LD: can i call you?

  KS: Uh, sure?

  She wants to call me.

  The hell is going on? Lay hates calling people.

  I can’t help but jump a little at the ringtone. Even still, I cut it off within a second, “Hello?”

  “Hi Tree,” Lay’s smiling voice comes over the phone and something is off about the way it distorts her voice. It’s not like a normal phone call, in some way that’s difficult to ascertain. Maybe the background noise? “How’re you?” She asks, with some cheer in her voice.

  “I’m okay, Lay,” I say, quietly. Is this small talk really necessary? “How’re you?”

  “Oh, I’m still having a weird first week up here. In Chicago.”

  That was a weird way to say that. Why did she crify? “Lay, what’s this call about? Are you okay?”

  “Oh. Yeah, I’m doing alright Tree, it’s just a new environment.” She pauses, taking a breath and sighing. I imagine her rubbing the back of her head, “Um, look. I have to ask - did you see anything else weird at the club?”

  You fucking bet I did, “Yes.”

  A second ter, she asks, quiet and almost neutral, “What else did you see?”

  I hesitate to tell her, for a moment. I could be pushing her on something that’s not worth it. A moment of worry about almost anything that could go wrong. It passes quickly, and I tell the truth, “I saw your backpack moving to the beat.”

  “Oh,” she says through a strained sigh, “okay.” After a silence long enough that I almost say something else, she continues, “I've been lying to you, but I can tell you the truth. Before that, I'm gonna admit that I won't be back to work at the warehouse, either. I've already been given a sort of ‘job opportunity’ and my life is changing in a big way. If I tell you, a few things will need to happen, though, so I want to make sure. Do you really want to know?”

  What has she gotten into? I'm worried about my friend, but it almost sounds like she's involved in some conspiracy. I know my biggest question, “Are you actually okay, Lay?”

  “Yes, Tree,” she says, “I'm okay, at least for now. Look, if you want the details, I have to bring someone else into the call. I also need to know you won't talk about it with anyone else until I get back, Tree. Please.”

  I think about it, but not for very long, “I promise, Lay. Tell me.”

  “All right. They're joining the call now.”

  I expect to hear some indication of this new person’s arrival. Some pinging sound or even the ambience of another phone line. Instead, a strange and familiar voice comes through with no warning. Neutral in gender and tone, it's a voice that I’ve heard, remixed at the party on Friday, coming through the speakers along with the UN secretary general.

  “Hello Miss Suarez. You may call us Joiner. We understand you have some questions about Lay’s backpack.”

  I’m fucking dumbfounded, “You’re kidding.”“I’m not,” Lay states, pinly.

  Okay. I guess I can interrogate this conversation, “You’re saying you’re in league with the aliens, and I’m in a call with their representative. This is somehow reted to your backpack?”

  She chuckles for a second then stops, “Sorry. I’m ughing because you’re technically in a call with multiple aliens. It’s complicated. Yes, though. Joiner is on the call.”

  “How? How could you have met an alien that communicates with radio signals and hijacks our technology?”

  “I’ll answer that,” says Joiner, “Miss Drake accidentally met our groundside scout. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant meeting, but we managed to convince her to assist us.”

  “You met one?” I excim, “when did that happen?”

  “They met the Friday before contact.”

  “Before the rest of us even knew.” I think aloud, “Wait. All the talk about it, and you’re saying you know what they are! You know what they look like?”

  “Yeah,” replies Lay, amusedly “those conversations were awkward. I almost described them outright, actually. I’m kind of shielded by the absurdity, but I edited my description. They’re more like a big octopus, actually.”

  I don’t know if I can believe her, “Absurdity? You’ve gotta be kidding me, girlie. You found some AI tool that imitates the voice, and this is a prank.”

  She sighs, and the voice ciming to be Joiner speaks up, “Would you like us to try and prove it to you, Katrina?”“I don’t know how you will, but sure. Gonna drop another bomb?”

  “No,” they say, as Lay simultaneously speaks up.

  Her tone is grave, “Tree. You know where those weapons were headed.”

  I’m about to confirm that yes, I know who the military aid was for, when my phone vibrates with a notification. The gender and tone neutral voice of Joiner softly suggests, “You should check that.”

  It’s a hacked push notification. It seems the same as the mysterious one from st week, before the big reveal. It just says, ‘Hello Tree. Is this enough?’ I get a text from an unknown number, too, with the same message.

  I’m warming up to the idea, “Okay.” I take a deep breath, “okay if this is a prank, it’s very eborate. Or- you’re telling the truth. What was in your backpack, Lay?”

  She calmly answers, “The alien scout was in my bag, Tree.”

  “They’re that small?”

  “They can fit into tight pces. You know how octopi can fit into any gap that their beak can fit through?”

  “No.”

  Laughing now, she continues, “Well it’s like that. Look it up sometime.”

  I still don’t get it, “Why did you have them with you, Lay? At work, too.”

  “They- We were scouting.” Worry creeps into her voice, “Also, um, I’ll probably have to show you in person sometime, but they can… link with humans. We were testing the connection. We still are.” She grows pensive as she finishes, “They're listening in on the call through me.”

  She’s being vague for some reason, “what do you mean, like they’re psychic or something?”

  I hear her suck in through her teeth as Joiner speaks up for her, “let’s leave the graphic details of corda links for ter. Suffice to say that the connection is one that requires physical contact, and it’s not so fanciful as that.”

  I specute for a few moments, but before I can speak any more, Lay confesses, “Tree. I’m not in Chicago. I’m on a spaceship.”“You’re saying you’ve been abducted,” I conclude.

  “No,” she chuckles, “I was asked. I agreed to board. We’re on our way to Jupiter, where their main ship is. Actually- listen. Stay quiet and listen for a moment. Do you hear that rumble?” The line is almost silent, but I do hear it. A low, ambient, thunderous rumble that has been in the background of her end the whole time. “That’s the engine. I can probably even send you pictures, though I don’t know if that would be wise.”

  Joiner speaks up again, “We could secure the connection, but they’d have to be deleted just in case.”

  “You’re going to send me selfies from space?” I ask, incredulously, "You never take selfies.” I want to believe Lay. I think I do believe her. It’s not unassaible, but I have so much evidence that technically fits what she’s saying. Her backpack was dancing because there was an alien in it, jamming out to the beat. The internship is a cover for going to Jupiter for some reason. She was weird because she made contact with extraterrestrials.

  She teases, “So you don’t want them?”

  I sigh, “I’m not going to say no to selfies from my friend, Lay.”

  “Then I’ll send you a few,” she says, “but I need you to keep quiet. At least for now, until I’m back. Things will be different, but- you might have an opportunity.”

  “What opportunity?”

  “We’re starting a charity. I'm going to be chairwoman or something, I guess? I could hire you. I don't know what the budget is but I've already received a shocking amount.”

  Is she trying to fuck with me? “Are you saying the aliens paid you?” There's a pause where I hear her quietly breathe inward, and I wonder if I hit a nerve.

  “We believe she is hesitating to admit this because it could be seen as a crime. I'm confident the call is secure, Lay.”

  “I'm working with the corda scout to help with their pns for Earth,” she admits, "We're gaming the stock market for cash, apparently.”

  “You've betrayed Earth,” I say, more amused at this point, “and you're colluding with the aliens. And you're offering to hire me to work at your front?”

  Lay ughs, and I can't help but ugh a little with her, “I am! It pays well, too.”

  It's such nonsense, but it's hard to argue with the situation. My friend calls me after mysteriously fucking off, to tell me she's in space and working with the aliens. I've discovered an intergactic conspiracy, apparently, and they want to offer me a seat at the table for their ground operation. Nothing I've seen makes it unbelievable at this point. I don't even want to disbelieve.

  Besides, who would believe me? I don't have a reason to tell anyone even if she's created some increasingly eborate prank. If she's really got an alien in her backpack, she can show me when she gets back… now that I think of it, though, “Your other friend, the one in the backpack, they can't talk?”

  “Oh, they can,” Lay replies, “if they want. Cascade?”

  “Yes, I can speak if necessary,” says a new voice. It has a very simir quality to Joiner’s, but it's less neutral, and notably higher in both pitch and resonance. “There's not really a lot I can say that Joiner couldn't contribute. Hello Tree, I‘m Umbral Cascade, and more often called just Cascade. Sorry about the confusion st week.”

  Reflexively, I start to pcate the alien girl, “It's nice to meet you, too, and you don't need to apologize, it's…” I trail off realizing just how ridiculous this exchange is, “Well, apology accepted, anyway. I guess I can't bme you for wanting to move to the beat.”

  “Oh vast this is embarrassing. We should’ve probably id off the alcohol, then we might not have been so obvious.”

  “You were drinking too?”

  Lay cuts in, “Sort of. They kind of got a contact high off of me.”

  I ugh at the concept as well as the memory, “You were going pretty hard.”

  She chuckles along, “I had peer pressure from two sides when I already wanted to get smashed!”

  Cascade chimes in, “I wanted to see how humans have fun and I got to experience it through Lay. It was fun for me, too.”

  “Oh shoot,” I realize, “I gotta thank you for finally getting her to come out with me. You practically caused that party.”

  The two aliens give their appreciation, and Lay interjects right after, “Are we good, Tree? I know this is insane. I promise that if you feel crazy, I feel ten times crazier.”

  I sigh, trying to rex my earlier paranoia. Even if it's somehow bullshit, it's something I can believe for now. “We're good, Lay. I'm not gonna reveal your alien conspiracy. You better send me that selfie though, and I think I want to meet Cascade when you get back. Just to prove it.”

  “Great.” She says, “You can meet Cascade, and I'll try to call you a couple times while I'm out here, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I finally hang up after brief goodbyes from the various members of the call. At some point I wandered into my room and sat on my bed. I y down and oscilte between two states. For a while I’m either furiously examining my memory of the conversation and trying to process, or just trying not to think of anything at all- practically meditating.

  When I stop spinning for a minute, I realize I have a couple messages from Lay. She's sent a selfie where she's in front of a window to space. Perched on her shoulder is an alien octopus creature with many more arms than eight. It's about the same color as her hair, and its head is as big as hers. It seems to have extra eyes all around its mantle.

  They're both waving.

  ---

  We’re having a long week after the phone call with Tree. Lay’s worried and a little frustrated, but Joiner connected her phone to send texts, and she’s keeping in touch. Tree eventually responded to the selfie we took, saying that we're both cute. She did also admit, ter, that I freak her out a little. Thankfully, the talk is slowly improving Lay’s mood.

  We watch a lot of movies, and a couple tv shows. The epic fantasy to start the week felt like it was the cream of the crop for a bit, but I ter found some others to be just as good. The ‘spaghetti western’ that we watched, about a civil war and lost gold, was very moving.

  She was initially hesitant to show much of their ‘science fiction’, particurly anything involving extraterrestrials. Humans are imaginative, and they’ve thought of all sorts of possible life that might exist out in the universe. We end up watching a few, and I’m surprised to see that they’ve dreamt up much more terrifying things than corda. Horrendous entities that hijack and assimite human physiology in ways that are malicious, inscrutable, or both.

  It worries me. If these are the terrifying aliens humans imagine, then how will they react to common knowledge of us? What separates corda from the human fear of invading and controlling things? We do not seem so different from some of their horrors.

  Other stories comfort me a little. Humans are as much afraid of each other - of the horrors they create and inflict upon themselves - as the unknown terrors of the infinite universe. Perhaps it is a worry inherent to intelligence. A stop gap against the truly immoral, built by millennia of natural selection. Some of the abominations in Allocaea's history could have used more of this worry.

  Some of the current horrors on Earth, too.

  Are you worried?

  Noticing my rumination, Lay stopped pying the card game on her phone. I'd been watching both her and the ferry's systems before I zoned out. I am. Do you think humans will see us as monsters?

  “Hmm,” she bites her lip softly and contemptes aloud, “I think they will, but not all of them. Some amount of people were always going to be repulsed and off-put no matter what. It doesn't matter what you look like, humanity still has problems understanding the minor differences between each other. They'll project that onto whatever they see.”

  Right. Humans are still often intolerant of each other. It's almost a moot question. They will look for monsters within corda in practically the same way as they look for it in each other. I see, and it’s probably Joiner's pn to keep them in the dark about our true nature, too.

  “Yes,” she says while she slips the phone in her pocket, “we discussed it while you were gone st week. We agreed that humanity's general reaction to an alien presence should be measured first. We don't want to shock people yet. It might be a while.”

  Katrina's reaction doesn't bode well.

  “I wouldn't overthink that, Cas. She said you were cute! Don't forget that tons of people think Earth has native fauna that's really creepy. Life gets weird, no matter where it's from.”

  I ask if Lay has anything lighter for us to watch. She pulls up an animated movie about a rge green man, known as an “ogre”, and expins that he's a cultural icon. I can tell she's making a joke, but her deadpan delivery somehow works through the link, and it's lost on me. She thinks it’s even funnier that way. We spend the next few hours watching the ogre movie and its sequels.

  As we're preparing to rest, I catch a familiar thought from Lay. One I wouldn't recognize if we hadn't been connected for so long. An increasingly familiar shape propagating through her mind. She doesn't project it on purpose but the question has started to envelop her, and I don't need her to ask.

  What is this retionship?

  The philosophy, psychology, and common understanding of links varies. The most common use is with beasts, artificial bodies or sometimes even artificial beasts. It is access to a different body. The connection to that body's mind is sometimes just an appealing afterthought. A body that can usually take care of itself.

  Sometimes we even communicate by connecting to the same hulking megafauna. Direct links to other Corda are more common, though, and important for communicating complex thoughts and emotions. Over several eras, we have built a moral etiquette about links- don't control their body or their thoughts, at least not intentionally. Do no harm, seek consent, etcetera.

  I'm off track. What are we? Lay and I.

  Friends of circumstance, at least.

  Symbiote and host- Yes, but it doesn't have to define us.

  Spy and contact? Sure.

  Reaching for another analogy, pilot and handler comes up from somewhere in Lay's mind. She vetoes it, though, then shares some amusement with a simir concept. Joiner is more of a handler, to both of us. We're more like a pilot and mech.

  Headmates?

  Lay had briefly mentioned the concept. Sort of a py on roommates. Two or more people in the same mind, sharing the same brain. It's not exactly true, but it's close enough. We're sharing both bodies and minds with each other. It's mostly a two way street.

  It's been so easy to accidentally unify, out here in space. There's not a lot for us to focus on, so a movie or a parallel thought will just snap us into one mind.

  We both have an idea of who we each are, when apart, but who are we together?

  Maybe that's not even the pressing question. What do we want to be together?

  The blip of a question from Lay passes through the link, answered in less than a millisecond. Does the link influence our feelings about each other? Yes. Of course it does, because it is an advantageous trait.

  Our understanding is that corda who value their host survived more often, as well as hosts who value their symbiote. Not only did evolution somehow create the link, it refined it. A two way street of positive feedback exists between us. We naturally grow to value each other. It doesn't seem any more maniputive than the human concept of love.

  Is that what this is?

  It can be.

  Neither of us know if that's what we want.

  Not yet.

  Being together is comforting and our link is strong but there are problems. Unifying- acting and thinking as one is becoming so easy. It shouldn’t be a bad thing, but it’s an uneasy configuration for Cascade.

  Breaking out of a long unification can hurt so much. It did. Even if we don't dissolve into one, it can be like losing a part of ourselves. Both corda and our various hosts have been known to enter a deep depression after losing a linkmate. It was once a common cause of suicide. Fading into each other increases the risks.

  We coexist in fear and unease about intimacy. Neither of us wants to retreat from this, but we’re both scared of what could happen.

  “I think we'll be okay, Cas,” Lay says, suddenly shunting both the fear and our unification.

  How can you know? We could be hiding things from each other.

  She sighs with a smirk, “We're not, though. Neither of us are hiding things. The fact that we are worried about this- that we worry about each other? It's a good sign.”

  How?

  “Because neither of us wants to hurt the other. Because we don't want to hurt others or be hurt. Even if we make mistakes, the intent to do harm just isn't there.”

  She's right, but what about us? What is it we're trying to be?

  “That's the beauty of this, Cas. I think this can be whatever we let it be. If we hit a snag, we have the ability to stop and address new boundaries.” She smiles outright, happiness springing from my presence within her, feeding right back through the link to me.

  “We're in this together,” she says,

  and we find ourself happy to have each other, drifting off to sleep as one.

  ---

  Jenna: Hey, on a lighter noteJenna: we can apparently do a wide variety of potential modifications that we're offering for youJenna: for some reason Joiner is making *me* ask if you want any

  Lay: what do you mean modifications

  Jenna: cybernetics, artificial organ impnts, that sort of thing

  Lay: oh like the chipLay: is there anything specific i should be thinking of?

  Jenna: yes.

  Lay: ha ha okay tell meLay: wait organs and modificationsLay: are you offering me high tech alien bottom surgery

  Jenna: oh, no, I'm happy to say we can do more than a vaginopsty

  MJ: We could build you a whole new reproductive system.

  Jenna: or we could just give you an estrogen producing organ so you never have to go without estrogen again

  Lay: okay that’s a lot to think about

  Lay: I want an orchi and the permanent estrogen patch

  Jenna: ah, you're back with us.Jenna: Joiner suggested I give you space

  Lay: wait can i trust Joiner to do this

  Jenna: as much as you trust Cascade to be in your head, I think.

  Lay: that makes sense

  Jenna: technically I'm really biased though.Jenna: you'll link with MJ at least once before that procedure anyway

  Lay: oh, real. both trueLay: Cas said to ask about the interface cluster

  Jenna: yes, I'm told it's important to your link. it's supposed to reduce the damage and pcate your immune system.

  Lay: that sounds good is there a catch

  Jenna: a few, I guess. the first is that you'll be getting a transpnt of, basically, augmented corda nerve tissue. it's enough that your brain will effectively have some extra mass. more neurons don't necessarily make you smarter, but you’ll literally have more brain

  Lay: that's kind of rad actually

  Jenna: you'll have to eat more to account for it too

  Lay: no problem there my food budget suddenly increased quite a bit recentlyLay: a month ago that first thing would’ve sounded absolutely horrible to me

  Jenna: it's funny that you talk about changing that much. this will put you out of the range of even remotely being a baseline human.

  Lay: bitch i am a trans human already that's not a real downside

  Jenna: coolJenna: what's that like?

  Lay: ugh don't get me started it sucks so badLay: i mean it's been years since i started transitioning but i still feel bad about my body in some waysLay: i probably need more time to think about the vagina thing, too

  Jenna: I guess I can't imagine having a complete human body and wanting it altered

  Lay: you're Jenna though. you're the ‘she’ inside of Joiner's ‘they’Lay: is it so hard to imagine having a male body and wishing it was female, or at least mostly so

  Jenna: I guess I can understand something simir. we have proxy bodies for Joiner on the ship, I've used them and they’re not super satisfying to operateJenna: …mostly so?

  Lay: um okayLay: so that was a slip of something i'm shy aboutLay: i guess i might have a bit of an impossible and indulgent fantasy

  Jenna: did I miss something

  Lay: oh jenniferLay: i have had too much soju, and i only brought a few bottlesLay: joiner said they could grow me a whole new reproductive system

  Jenna: What does that mean?

  Lay: i've always kind of wanted to have both

  Watching movies and TV shows. Talking to Tree, Joiner and Jenna. Sleeping in the hammock near the window and watching the stars. Pying games and munching on snacks. I brought popcorn, actually, which we had to fabricate a special cooker for. The popcorn comes out of it just a little weird, but still good.

  Despite the little bit of excitement toward the start of the week, it becomes very monotonous. I've been messaging people, but it's pretty mundane for now. at least since the augmentation conversation.

  I shouldn't have drank that soju. I didn't only receive a ton of earnest wow emotes from Jenna. Cas had to convince me, afterwards, that I didn't need to be ashamed of wanting that. Particurly in the cyberpunk future I’ve started living in.

  We wait

  and wait.

  Passing Martian orbit was boring - couldn't even see Mars from here. You'd think that I'd even see an asteroid in the asteroid belt, but you'd be wrong. Space is very boring once you get past the novelty. We spend twelve hours in zero-g while the ferry rotates and waits to start the slowdown. I sleep through most of it. When done, we're right back to gravity-by-acceleration as the ferry prepares to enter Jovian orbit.

  I set a timer in my cybernetics when we got onboard, and it takes almost 200 hours before I can finally see Jupiter past the aft.

  The reddish dot gets bigger

  and bigger.

  With a bit of Cascade's help, I spot a couple of its moons before we get to the cruiser. Europa and Callisto. The former, a distant swirling orb dusted in bluish white at its poles, with a scarred and blotchy meridian of rusty orange. The tter is like a darker version of Luna, with even more pockmarks visible on its surface.

  When I can finally see the cruiser, it almost seems small in the vastness of space. Dotted with small portholes, each no bigger than a meter, and otherwise with the occasional inscrutable feature on its ste blue surface. It's a tapered cylinder, simply floating in space, with a rge thrust block on the back. A clear slot for the ferry rotates into view, colored in dark grey and sporting complicated docking machinery.

  As we get closer, the size becomes more appreciable. It's over 200 meters long, and maybe 80 meters wide. Like a convention center in space, or an older aircraft carrier. We've switched to docking parameters, so I'm floating next to the window and holding onto the rope dder. Our view shrinks as we get closer to the docking port, and just as it starts to get too dark to see, lights come on inside the ship.

  I knew she'd be there, but I'm still startled by the humanoid robot woman in the transfer bay. Jenna's custom avatar was finished about a day ago and she's been excited, both about the body and my imminent arrival. She likes to talk to me, and she messages often because I'm basically the only other person she has unrestricted access to. Cas and her haven’t quite hit it off.

  As the sounds of the docking mechanisms pulse through the ferry, the cruiser's artificial gravity kicks in. I have to hold on to the dder for real when it does, and my ears feel weird while the pressure equalizes. The window retracts, practically unfolding, to leave a sizable opening to enter the bigger ship.

  It takes me a moment to climb out of the hatch and once I'm out into the transfer bay, Jenna practically tackles me. “Lay! She excims, squeezing a bit harder than a flesh human would, “You're finally here! Welcome to boring ass Europa orbit!” I croak for a moment before she realizes that she's been squeezing me too hard, “oh gosh, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?”

  I cough for a moment while Cas sps my back, “I'm okay Jen just watch out using the extra strong robot body on my mere flesh and bone. You should probably ask people if you can hug them, in the future.”

  “Okay, sorry,” she says, backing all the way up to the wall, “sorry. I'm sorry.” I notice that the voice she's using is robotic sounding, which would seem correct but neither Cascade's nor Joiner's voices sound like that. I know they have better synthesis. She also clearly just turned off her facial expressions. The avatar switched to a neutral expression as I was talking.

  Oh fuck, I think I triggered her dysmorphia.

  Or whatever- that's probably not the most accurate term, but close enough.

  “Jen, that's not what I meant,” I sigh a little and try to console her. “You weren't inhumanly strong, or anything,” a bit of a white lie, “just watch others personal space and bodies, okay? You don't need to apologize anymore.”

  Cas asks, is she going to be alright?

  Jenna walks a few steps back to me, speaking with a wavering and still robotic voice, “Okay Lay. I'm still getting used to this.” She can turn her face off but she can't help expressing through the nguage synthesizer. interesting…

  I think she'll be okay, I'll take it slow, though, “Turn your face back on, too, please? It's not fair that you can just turn yours off and I can't. It's more human that way.”

  Jenna nods, and a worried expression quickly creeps back into her face. I put a hand on her shoulder and look into her eyes, hoping the body nguage works here. She gives me a little smile. It's kind of adorable, if a little bit uncanny at this distance, “Okay, um. Thanks, Lay.”

  I smile back at her, gd that it seems to be working, “Anytime, kid.”

  ViolentR