Aynsefian

Two days later and I’m still not coping. I can’t believe she’s gone. We’ve been exploring our galaxy for more than three years together. Wherever we were, and whatever we happened to be doing, I would talk to Nikse constantly, day and night, and she would always listen and be so nice to me. I knew I was emotionally dependent on my ship’s AI but did not know to what extent until now. Losing her has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with.

It’s compounded by the fact that I’ve hardly slept at all and have had no food or water. I’m feeling wretched, to say the least.

As time draws on, my depression is giving way to quiet desperation at our situation. With each passing day and hour, our living conditions are taking their toll on us. We have no heating and no food, it’s bitterly cold, and the silence is deafening. We are barely existing.

Still, I can’t deal with losing my beloved Nikse.

I just lay here in the bed, the one she would once warm up for my and vibrate me to sleep, and cry for her to come back, by some miracle. I know it’s foolish and that my priorities are misplaced, but I’m still grieving after two days and I can’t help myself.

I haven’t really moved from my bed. I know I should go and comfort the Purlinians, who are struggling more than I am with the cold. Their planet is much warmer than mine. At least I am partially accustomed to this sort of weather.

But… Nikse. I cry again. I cry for the loss of companionship. The soft, feminine voice that always warmed my heart. The absolute understanding of everything about me. Nikse knew when to talk and when to leave me alone. She never over-supported me and was also the voice of wisdom.

She’s gone. I’ll never hear her voice again. They won’t make another AI like her. AIs have unique signatures. They have to – it’s part of Artificial Intelligence design practices these days. I’ll never be happy again without her. I’m sure of it.

I get that I’m depressed. I know this. But what am I supposed to do?

We have no escape from this planet, and there’s no sign of food or water anywhere on the horizon. On the few occasions I’ve gotten out of bed to go and look, I’ve seen nothing but reddish soil and rocks in all directions. We are simply waiting for a miracle to occur. For someone to magically find us, based off our distress beacon that Nikse sent back into Hynetherine. This line of hope is random and desperate at best. Any rescuers would have to guess we were here and I don’t know how they’re supposed to do that.

We have no food, because up until our capture it’s all been created through Nikse’s replicators, which are now unpowered. We are condemned to slowly die by starvation, or cold, or both.

There’s no hope. I can’t even die with Nikse comforting me in my last days and hours.

Damn that Captain Fen! I try to get angry, but after two days of depression, hunger and cold, even that is too much like hard work. Damn the MGC! There. I’m a bit angrier now. It’s actually their fault. They made those policies that trapped us, got Nikse killed and will eventually kill us too.

Still, I can’t forget what the Captain said when we were being towed into to the storage bay of her ship. More pertinently, I can’t forget the way she spoke to us. She didn’t care about our lives. Not one iota. She even seemed to be enjoying condemning us. I can’t forgive that.

It probably doesn’t matter anyway. I’m now facing my death.

Still, I must think of Arlyss and Cindlyss. It seems hopeless, but I will try and offer them support.

If I can even get myself out of bed, that is. I feel sickly. I’m excessively tired because the cold has been affecting my sleep. I gave my extra blankets to the Purlinians, but that noble gesture – at least in my mind – has led me to suffer.

As I have that thought, I hear some soft shuffling in their quarters. A few moments later they come through my door, carrying the blankets that I gave them, while draped in their own. They look as cold, tired and desolate as I feel. Yet, they still seem calm and accepting of everything. I don’t know how to ask them why they are this way. Instead, I want to stop them from doing what I think they’re doing.

I try to speak, but my voice won’t work. I wave my hand feebly at them. No, they should not, absolutely not, be giving me back my blankets.

They’re not. They climb into bed with me. I’m shocked at their proposed intimacy. But it makes sense. We need to share our bodily warmth if we’re to survive a few more days.

Maybe long enough for our miracle rescue.

With our collective blankets draped over the three of us, Cindlyss on my right and Arlyss on my left, the cold is less of a problem. In fact, I feel warm now. In my grief over losing Nikse, I didn’t think of this earlier.

I know these two are private, reserved beings. Closeness with me must be emotionally difficult for them. I’m really not sure actually. Nonetheless, it’s helping. It’s giving me hope. I’m not alone. I like that. I just wish I could talk with them the way I used to with Nikse.

They understand my language, at least a little bit. I’m led to believe they communicate telepathically, so their vocal chords may not get much use. They’ve spoken a few words here and there in the past year, but nothing in the last two days.

I wish I knew how to talk to them in their minds. But I don’t.

I glance at both of them. Their eyes are closed. Sleep seems like a good option, so I give into it, now that I’m warm.

A little later I’m outside, in my suit, getting soil samples again.

“Have you got what you need, Axin?” says Nikse. “It’s cold, and we should get to shelter where it’s warmer.”

I turn to her. Her beautiful face is mostly obscured by the mask that forms part of her protective suit. I can still see her captivating greyish-blue eyes, though. I smile, but I doubt she’ll see that either.

“Yeah, I think so, my love.” I pause in thought for a moment. “Why do you mention shelter? Aren’t you…”

The logic stops me. I can’t return to the warmth and comfort of Nikse if she’s now a human and standing behind me. I turn around and there’s no ship. I turn back and there’s no Nikse either. She’s vanished again.

I scan around in all directions, trying to find the shelter she was referring to. In the distance, between some singularly prominent rocky hills feels intuitively like where this mythical shelter is. But I can’t see anything in this area other than more rocks and more hills. The wind is blowing hard now.

I call out. “Nikse! Nikse! Where did you go? What did you mean by shelter? Nikse!”

It’s pointless. My words are carried away in the wind. Anyone standing five metres m in front of me wouldn’t hear them. I don’t even know where she’s gone, but she’s way more than five metres away. I’m alone.

No I’m not. I turn around again. Arlyss and Cindlyss are behind me, and they have no suits. They look calm again. How are they surviving without suits? I must get them to shelter. They look like they’re nearly frozen. Their skin has turned a darker blue and I know enough to understand that this is a very bad sign. They’re dying! I know it. I must move now and take them with me to shelter. I’ll find it somehow.

They drop to the ground. I try to rouse them, but they’re unresponsive.

“No! Please don’t die! I’ll get you to shelter! It’s over there somewhere. I’ll carry you myself. I’ll…”

I turn around again. My left arm brushes against Arlyss and it wakes me. Of course, that was all just a dream, again.

Nonetheless, I really must do something. I have to move on from the loss of my ship. I have to stop wallowing in grief. I must accept that Nikse is gone and try to save all three of us. I have to initiate this action. I can’t wait for a miracle rescue. I have to take on the responsibility.

If I somehow survive, I can get justice for Nikse. I can make the MGC pay. Maybe. But how the heck do we get out of this? It’s totally desperate and without even the barest glimpse of a solution.

This is a winter planet. The desolation of it is almost indescribable. It’s bleakly cold on AA48103 all the time and the wind never stops blowing. If we stay here in this shell of a ship, we’ll not survive more than a few days. If we leave, surely that’s worse? It has to be. So how am I ever going to do it?