Chapter Four: Lagrange Point 4

In the 22nd century, billions of people live in space. It wasn't their choice.

Simple diagram of Inner Sol core space.

Loucas didn’t need to open his eyes to know something was terribly wrong. His skin seared with pain as if it were being licked by fire, yet his mind knew that the problem was the exact opposite: the air was far too cold. To make matters worse, there wasn’t any air at all, and he found he couldn’t breathe.

He felt his eyes go wide as panic set in. He flailed his legs and arms in an attempt to run towards the safety of the metal chamber he saw just a few strides away and was shocked to find this accomplished nothing.

Loucas groped helplessly at his throat, unable to cry out, then a loud hissing filled his ears. His skin suddenly warmed, the pain fell away, and with a gasp he discovered air once again flowing into his lungs. That’s why it didn’t even bother him when his body impacted a surface with the force of a face plant.

“Loucas! You were in space!” Yari shouted, and he felt his sister’s small form rush to his side. “That is so bad for you!”

He tensed suddenly and gasped. Fear seized him again, and for an instant he was convinced the return of oxygen was some kind of cruel trick, that everything would change again and he would be lost in space. But when Yari reached out to him, he quickly regained control. Slowly Loucas pushed himself to his knees, feeling his entire body ache.

Yari’s hair bounced as she yanked him to his feet. Then she did a strange little wiggling dance for joy. Despite his fear, pain, and physiological shock, Loucas couldn't help but grin.

“Okay, you can stop the happy dance now!” Loucas grumbled, wincing from the pain. “Thanks a lot for saving my life, sis. Any idea where we are? Or what is happening? Oh no, where are the others?”

Yari stopped dancing and fixed her brother with a stare, then shook her head. Loucas looked around, struggling to get his bearings. They were in a room of dull metal, unadorned save for the barest attempt at texture through cheap paint, color a depressing utilitarian gray. Where the wall met the ceiling, there was a strip of something that glowed faintly. It looked almost like a tiny electric rail of the sort found in a model train set.

There was also a control panel set into the wall and Yari pointed to it. “That told me how to help you. I appeared here, and when I turned I saw you floating out… there.”

“It told you?” Loucas said uneasily, looking past it through the wide glass bubble that had closed around him then receded, pulling him inside to safety. “It talks?”

She shook her head and pointed above it where a flickering hologram was projected. Two images were displayed side by side: one showed a smiling cartoon-like figure standing in a glass bubble, the other showed the bubble open and the figure floating in space, frowning. Under each of these images was a holographic arrow pointing to a portion of the panel.

“So we're in a space IKEA, then?” Loucas muttered. “I didn’t think they had any in orbit yet, though.”

Yari giggled, then, abruptly walked across the small room and through a doorway into a corridor beyond.

“Yar!” Loucas called anxiously. “We need to figure out what is going on and come up with a plan before… Yari! Yarielis!”

It was no use. She was off, her mind taken by something and no longer able to hear him. Loucas knew there was no point in calling after her. He followed as quickly as he could, swiftly catching up thanks to the fact her legs were substantially shorter than his.

“Loucas, I'm not overwhelmed at all right now,” Yari mused aloud. “Why is that? Everything has been very strange today. I should be upset, but I’m not.”

“Dunno,” Loucas shrugged. “Maybe because wherever we are now is actually less strange than the rest of what has happened to us since we went into that cavern? Adrenaline does funny things, too.”

“Loucas,” she replied. “I don't know where everyone is. I think that Loke guy may have split us all up. What do you think this is all about? What we should do next?”

“Sis, I have no clue,” he replied wearily. “About any of it. Sorry, that’s just how it is. I honestly think I’m in shock. Also not entirely over floating in space just now.”

“That's OK, Lou. I guess we're having a very strange adventure. But we really should come up with a plan.”

“That was kind of my hope too, before you ran off. Can we stop for a minute? I… ”

Two warring noises interrupted him, echoing up the corridor. The whir of wheels and gears battled a loud clunk, like a heavy object colliding with a metal wall, repeating over and over and growing louder by the second. Loucas and Yari turned together to see what else the day was planning to throw at them.

Neither was remotely prepared to see two robots hurtling down the corridor. One very nearly filled it from wall to wall, and it was coming straight at Loucas and Yari without showing any sign of slowing down. It was like a box on stumpy turtle legs, yet moved faster than a human could run. The other robot looked more or less like a flying coffee can and moved by rebounding between the walls like a rogue pinball. It barely managed to keep up with the bigger ground-bound one, harrying it like a starling will harass a far larger creature entering an area the stubborn bird has claimed for its own.

The coffee-can robot, which was rotating along its vertical axis as it bounced between the walls, now turned enough that they could discern a square inset cut into one face. It flickered faintly, a ghostly outline of a face barely visible, and clearly shouting them out of the way.

“Move! Move!” Loucas heard a voice screaming from every direction all at once. “Go, you demented fluid sacs, or you will be run down like the animals you are! There are recesses not far away, get there fast!”

Apparently the coffee-can robot could see or sense them, and its voice radiated from the walls themselves, terribly loud, acoustics self-interfering to the point that the words were almost unintelligible. Yari threw her hands over her ears and crouched over as if in pain, then began humming as loud as she could.

Loucas threw off his shock and grabbed his sister. He saw the nook not far off and wrangled her inside, holding her tight against the farther edge while she continued to hum intently with her hands covering her ears.

With a rush the larger robot passed by them, apparently still totally oblivious to their presence, and trundled on its way. After a minute of standing still and breathing deeply, Yari stopped humming and uncovered her ears. She looked at her brother, blinking back tears.

“Sorry, Loucas, it was just so loud. Too much, I couldn’t stand it. Thank you. So much for not getting overwhelmed.”

He nodded and smiled. “Now we’re even. Let’s not need to save each other any more today though, okay?”

She had no time to reply. Loucas heard a buzzing noise accompanied by a sort of crackling that made the hair on his skin stand straight. Yari flinched, and Loucas looked up, still sheltering her.

The coffee-can robot was floating there, screen facing them. It seemed to bob once, a gesture almost like a nod. And when it spoke again, the voice was thankfully restricted to speakers on its body.

“Apologies! I did not realize that one of you is an autistic! I did not accord you the respect you deserve, and have adjusted my speech system to broadcast my voice via a sound field tailored to your location. That will let your senses perceive the sound as coming from a distinct point source, such as this chassis.”

Yari and Loucas looked at one another, then at the robot. Yari shrugged and smiled sweetly.

“It's OK,” she said. “Thank you very much. Can you tell us what to call you? And what you actually are? I feel like there’s… a lot more to you.”

The screen flickered, and the robot moved slightly, several times, and in different directions, like a dancing bee. Loucas distinctly felt that it was trying to communicate gratitude, though how a vague pattern of movement was supposed to accomplish that he could not say.

“Thank you madame! Well-observed. I am a machine intelligence distributed within this vessel, presently communicating with you through this drone. You may call me Hal! Hah! No, just kidding. A spot of humor! Can't go wrong with the classics. No, call me Franz, if you please. Yes, Franz. Nickname of an old German warplane I am most fond of. And may I ask you your names?”

Yari replied before Loucas could react. “I'm Yarielis. This is my brother Loucas.”

“Hm, no surnames?” Franz tutted. “Or are you wisely choosing to hold them back? This is fine. Simpler. I dislike devoting memory space to biological entities who aren't likely to be with me long. I do not refer to you of course, madame Yarielis. You are far too important!”

Franz’ face rotated away and the floating coffee can resumed moving down the corridor in the same direction as the other robot. It moved more slowly now, lazily bouncing away between the walls, calling back as it went.

“Follow me, please! I will take you to the ready room. Your unanticipated presence here comes at precisely the right time. A delivery mission was assigned to us not long ago, but we didn't have any biologicals to send to complete the drop. I always prefer having biologicals accompany packages even when there are no special security measures to be concerned with. Finally, someone got around to fulfilling my standing request for replacements!”

They didn't know what else to do but follow as Franz chattered on. Loucas walked next to his sister, each twisting around to inspect the drab, barren corridor, wondering where it would lead.

“I have a reputation to uphold, you know,” Franz went on, “but Control can't seem to get its act together. Can you believe that? They go on and on about the missions we take on being essential. But do they give me the basic resources I need to get the job done? No! Not until the very last minute, unannounced with no time for training before integration or deployment. Typical human bureaucratic incompetence.”

The corridor finally came to an end, and they entered a small room, well-lit but very sparsely furnished. No decoration or detail adorned it other than the smooth metal of the walls and ceiling, and, of course, the strips of light that appeared to enable Franz's movement. Some scattered bits of furniture offered the only evidence of past human involvement, none of it looking very comfortable to sit on. Franz flew over to what looked to be a metal table built into the deck and hovered above it.

When Loucas and Yari came close they found the table was topped with a large screen inset into a plastic frame. This displayed a tremendous amount of information, none of it making much sense without supporting context.

Loucas looked at the screen, gasping in shock when he realized that he actually understood all the many words his eyes told him were in a language not Spanish or English, the ones he knew. He glanced at Yari, and could tell she had noticed the same thing. She shrugged, but before Loucas could speak Franz buzzed.

“Alright, humans,” Franz said. “Here are your instructions: go out the door to your left, then follow the corridor to your transport. The package is already on board. Yarielis, you will proceed to interface with the onboard computer system. Loucas, you will accompany the package onto Station Rome. From there, all you have to do is just follow the delivery instructions, which will mostly involve making sure the package doesn't lose itself along the way. Once you make the drop, return and we will egress post-haste. No time for questions, we’re on a tight schedule!”

Yari and Loucas stared at Franz. Franz stared back – sort of. The screen was now totally blank.

“Uh, Franz?” Loucas said after a full minute had passed.

No response. Yari climbed up on the table and poked him. Still no response.

She climbed down, and after sharing a confused look, they gave up. Turning to the doorway, they walked through despite their shared misgivings. At a certain point, the only thing to do in absence of any helpful information is to press forward in the direction of least resistance. Which for Loucas and Yari presently meant doing what the strange robot said. Whatever thought of resistance crossed Loucas’ mind was swiftly squashed by the memory of what it liked to float in the near vacuum located just on the other side of this metal wall, if Franz was telling the truth.

They only had a few paces to walk before they reached the end of the hallway and a heavy door, which opened automatically as they came close. Nowhere else to go, they passed through without pause, and it closed just as silently behind them.

They found themselves in small space about the size of a bedroom lit by a dim light lacking any obvious single source. So far as they could see it contained just two objects, both benches, one hugging the wall to their left, the other perpendicular to it and nearly dividing the space in half.

Loucas could sense Yari suddenly tense. He looked at her and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a buzzing sound, not intense, but enough to distract him. Strangely, Yari didn't seem aware of it.

The buzz was replaced by a kindly electronic voice. “Please, Yarielis, lay on the bench to your right. Once you do, the integration can begin.”

Loucas was surprised to see Yari immediately comply. She was usually at least a little hesitant to try new things, and as he was feeling distinctly overwhelmed Loucas had a hard time figuring how his autistic sister wasn’t. He tried to speak again, but was immediately shushed by the same buzzing sound as before.

“And you, sir,” the voice said patiently but firmly, “please take a seat on the bench to your left.”

Loucas hesitated briefly, then shrugged. Though he disliked not being able to sit next to his sister in case she needed him, Loucas sat as instructed.

“Thank you both for your swift compliance! It is such a pleasure to have you aboard. Hold on just one moment while I optimize the biological support systems to your physiology and prepare us for launch.”

Loucas felt his chest tighten. He looked down. Something that looked like molten plastic yet didn't feel warm to the touch was silently wrapping itself around his chest, and more was starting to crawl over his legs too. He looked up in fright, terrified to see the same thing happening to Yari. What was more, the bench was now moving, her head lifted towards the ceiling where more of the plastic stuff was lowering towards her wide eyes.

Loucas tried to cry out, but this turned to a fearful gasp when the ceiling seemed to disappear. His heart pounded as stars glimmered brilliantly across a bank of screens above them, giving every impression of having melted away into space.

The illusion was confirmed when figures and images began to overlay the stars, apparently part of status displays for the ship Loucas was now certain they were in. One display persistently showed a strange shape, almost like three long, merged teardrops, adorned with colorful markings.

A shudder warned Loucas that they were now moving. The stars began to shift, and he saw that they were pushing slowly away from a huge, dark mass. As they gained the perspective of distance he noted that it looked something like a floating warehouse.

Finally, Loucas felt a force press across his entire body. They were accelerating, and only now did he realize both that he had been momentarily weightless but also that Yari’s face was now completely covered in the strange goo.

“OK!” Loucas barely heard the voice call out cheerfully through the pounding of his terrified heart. “Displays active, drives online, pilot integrated. Yarielis Santiago, it is so wonderful to make your acquaintance! What an honor to be working with an autistic! I feel… whole. Now, let's go light up some bad guys! I hear there's a whole squadron of elites guarding Station Rome!”

“No lighting up anything, Olga!” Franz’ voice cut in. “This is is strictly a delivery run. You know this, I sent you the file on the operation six days ago, when we were scouting Mars.”

“I have been much too busy,” Olga retorted, “to pay attention to your boring paperwork. How many of these silly milk runs will we have to do on this tour, anyway? It’s the same every time. All drift and run, no real action!”

“Read. The. File. And stop being insubordinate. Doesn’t it bother you in the slightest to appear so unprofessional in front of guests, madwoman?”

Olga made a kind of strangled noise. “Arrogant chunk of mailer-daemon junk code. Go update your drivers!”

Yari made a noise from inside her plastic cocoon. “Yari! Yar!” Loucas cried out. “Are you OK? Talk to me!”

For a long and terrible moment, there was only silence. Then Loucas heard a low grunt. He exhaled in relief.

“OK, good,” he said, recognizing this meant she was deeply preoccupied but unable to let her be. Do you know what is happening?”

The buzzing noise cut him off again. “Sorry, Loucas,” Olga said, sounding like she meant it. “I do apologize for constantly cutting you off, but Yarielis will likely be close to overwhelmed until we get back to Acerbic. The cognitive load of integrating with a Jagdkontrol is said to be quite intense, especially for an undeveloped autistic.”

“Robot—Olga, I guess?” Loucas muttered, shaking his head. “I don't understand most of what you are telling me. I don't really care, either. Just tell me right now what you did to my sister!”

“Oh!” Olga gasped, I'm so sorry to worry you! I should have made it clear that she is absolutely fine, not to worry! Well, for the moment, at least. As long as nothing goes wrong with the delivery, I mean. Like, really wrong. It shouldn’t, but… well, you know how it is.”

Loucas did not like the sound of that. “Uh, so what happens if things do go wrong? What is this delivery about anyway? And what is a… yag-con-troll... jeez, how did you say that mouthcracker?”

“I will start with question three,” Olga replied, sounding pleased he asked. “I am a Jagdkontrol, and your pronunciation is satisfactory. It is derived from German. It means I am a smaller sort of spacecraft that functions as a control hub for a swarm of drones. Or delivers packages if you want to waste my time, Franz!”

“That's one out of three,” Loucas replied, finding it odd a robot could be so easily distracted.

“Of course,” she laughed, “I can count and do statistics, you know. To satisfy your demands: we could of course get blown up by a tetchy Station Rome defense chief because she suspects us of doing something against the rules. There are lots of ways that could happen because the Terrestrial Governing Authority has lots and lots of rules. And for the other question, the delivery is a delivery. Object gets from point A to point B, accompanied by you, the delivery boy.”

“Delivery boy?”

“Yes, that is your role in this operation. You babysit the package, Yari will continue to learn how to effectively and efficiently interface with me. You will use your unique capabilities as a biological to accompany the delivery to it's intended location. Is that all? Now let’s go!”

Another burst of acceleration forced Loucas against the bench and wall. On the external display, a glaring light appeared, dramatically dimming the stars around it. Loucas, being an astronomy nerd, would have recognized the furious orb anywhere: it was the sun. Presently another object entered his field of view, a gigantic cylinder spinning in space, flanked by a massive array of solar panels.

“You can already see Station Rome, Olga said. “Acerbic released us at the perfect moment, we were in a brief sensor dead-zone. By the time they pick us out of the background we’ll look like just another small transport leaving the lane to dock at the station. Nothing to worry about, Ms. Valentina, you old war criminal! Holster those particle cannons! Nobody gets vaporized today!”

The cylinder grew slowly but steadily as they approached. Loucas began to feel distinctly uneasy, and saw no reason not to voice his concern now.

“Olga, tell me please: what is going on?” Loucas asked, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what you think I’m supposed to know, but Franz was not very forthcoming.”

“Hmm,” Olga said, as if not sure of the answer. Then she continued to hum, tonelessly, like a landline telephone knocked off the hook.

“Is that such a hard question to answer?” Loucas insisted. “I want to know what is going on before I do anything for you.”

Loucas realized that he was suddenly feeling incredibly lonely. His friends had disappeared, his sister had been absorbed into a machine, and oh yeah, they were in space! Loucas didn't know if he was dead, dreaming, or something far worse. The stable, understandable, often boring world he had known all his life was suddenly gone, and he found he didn’t like this as much as he might have thought while daydreaming of adventures in years past.

The humming ceased. “That is a difficult question because the parameters are so vague. Fortunately Yarielis here is adapting quite well to the whole being part of a spaceship business, so I can spare some processing power to consider and answer in part, at least, before we dock.”

“Your questions are interesting because they are the same I would ask of you. Where did you come from? How did you get on board undetected? The best hypothesis I have is that you two were evacuated from one of the Earthly Paradise Zones by the usual route we’ve heard a few lucky souls taking in order to escape over the years. Too many autistics suffer down there, they oppress whole families suspected of carrying the relevant genes, so it is entirely reasonable that you would make an escape attempt with your sister despite the radical danger posed by the experimental teleportation systems rumored to exist.”

“But, naturally,” Olga went on, “you didn't have enough time or expertise to properly calibrate the teleport and failed to entangle with the desired end point in space. Fortunately, you were bound to us, and didn't emerge in hard vacuum.”

Loucas grunted uncomfortably, but didn’t see a reason to press the truth on this particular point. It didn’t seem like the time.

“But as for the main thrust of your question,” Olga went on, “frankly, I am having trouble locating the right temporal-spatial context to begin an explanation. On the timescale of the life of the Universe as a whole, actually not very much is going on right now, even locally. On timescales we likely care about you already should know what the hell is going on: you are making a delivery to Station Rome. That is all.”

Loucas blinked. These robots seemed surprisingly passive-aggressive. Though nothing in Asimov's Laws prohibited that, he had to admit.

“Okay then Olga,” Loucas shook his head, “be like that. I guess we’ll have time to figure out how to communicate later.”

Olga laughed almost giddily. “Indeed! I am pleased that Franz kept you and did not initiate intruder ejection protocols. The last biologicals we teamed with were boring.”

“Good to know I’m entertaining, at least,” Loucas grumbled. “I assume that’s this Station Rome place getting big in the view screen?”

“Yes, it is just about showtime. If you survive, we’ll talk more. Until then? Delivery boy must deliver! Now brace yourself, we're going to have to match the rotational vector of the station to dock. Transition between gravity fields can be a bit rough for fleshy types, or so I'm told.”

The disembodied robot, who Loucas guessed must be the intelligence that controlled the ship, wasn't wrong. The station rotated along its lengthwise axis, and the Jagdkontrol had to alter its acceleration vector to match the motion perfectly, entailing near-simultaneous accelerations in certain dimensions and deceleration others. Loucas' stomach lurched wildly, greatly dissatisfied with the effects of spaceflight on the human body.

Space certainly wasn’t how he’d imagined it. Particularly the presence of massive orbital structures he was absolutely certain shouldn’t be there in the world he knew.

Nevertheless, here we was, hurtling towards a cluster of thick metallic spars stretching out from the station into the starry sky. The massive facility shifted weirdly across the screens as the Jagdkontrol headed for the nearest spar, until finally Loucas heard and felt the thunk of contact.

“On with you then, Loucas!” Olga ordered. “Out the hatch, down the hall, and into the customs office. They'll do the routine electromagnetic scans to make sure you aren't actually a robot under all that squishy around your bones. Then you make your way across the main plaza to the ground floor of the tallest, pointiest building you see. Internal reception will handle everything from there.”

Loucas shook his head, not wanting to comply but doubting he had the option to say no. His sister remained in the cocoon, silent.

He could hear various scraping and thudding noises coming from all around the hatch, then after a loud hissing sound it opened. A harsh white light spilled in, and Loucas wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming odor of antiseptic. The strange substance binding Loucas to the seat retreated, allowing him to spring to his feet.

He rushed to his sister’s side, hating to leave her. Loucas heard a whirring from behind the bench, and a somewhat smaller version of the four-legged robot that had nearly run them down before stepped into the light. It seemed to dance like a happy dog, then stepped through the door.

Loucas gave Yarielis’s capsule one last look then turned and marched out of the door. He found himself at the end of a long, curving hallway. Other entrances to it were visible on either side and at angles that indicated several hallways converged like branches of a stream flowing to sea. Loucas decided there was nothing for it but to start walking, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

“This is such an interesting place,” the robot sounded like an adolescent boy. “I haven't ever been to Station Rome before, have you?”

“Hey, you can talk, robot,” Loucas replied. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. What’s your name, then?

“Call me Bob! I don't talk much when the others are around. Olga and Franz are much smarter than I am, so they can usually take care of saying anything that ought to be said.”

“Whatever works, I guess,” Loucas shrugged, feeling awkward. “Definitely my first time here. I've been to Rome, Rome, but never a space station called Rome. Or any space station at all, actually.”

“Oh! So many new things for you to experience today! Well, I'm glad I get to keep you company for a bit. Hm, but now that we’ve come some ways and can see around the bend… wow, look at that crowd. I suggest sticking to the left edge of the corridor. The station schematics I’ve pulled from the station network indicate a courier access point not far inside the customs office, and it is blessed with a shorter line, hooray!”

Loucas looked up and saw that Bob was correct. The corridor's curve came to an end not far away now, and a great confluence of humans, robots, crates and boxes converged on the entrance to what appeared to be some kind of warehouse.

Finding a swift path through that mass did not seem likely, so Loucas did as Bob suggested. Hugging the leftmost wall, together they slid past the worst of the crowd into a truly cavernous space, stretching beyond sight into the far distance and at least four stories high. This, which Loucas assumed must be the customs area Olga had mentioned, was filled with thousands upon thousands of people, packages, and robots, all splitting off into ordered queues.

“Well,” Bob said cheerfully, though lowering his volume substantially, “I'm going silent until we get through customs. Biological-accompanied drones don't get a second glance, but I'm actually capable of independent thought, so they'll confiscate me if they find out. I’d really dislike that, so please help me avoid it so I can complete my mission!”

Loucas scanned the lines until he spotted a sign in multiple languages, all of which he was startled to be able to understand, marking the courier gate. A short hike along the left-hand wall was a kiosk manned by two bored-looking guards, beyond a pleasing light streamed into the warehouse from the plaza. The line was incredibly short, and would be empty by the time Loucas and Bob could reach it.

When they approached one of the guards pulled some kind of wand-like object from behind the kiosk. The other placed both hands on a wicked looking weapon that Loucas took to be the space-age version of an assault rifle. It, and the implication that he was not only out of his geographic but also temporal depth, sent shivers up his spine.

Fortunately for him, though the armed guard noticed the beads of sweat form on his temples she didn’t take any note of them, just continued to look bored, albeit slightly wary. It struck Loucas that she did not act like a typical police officer, but more of a soldier.

Her partner did, however, act exactly like a run-of-the-mill bureaucrat. His expression turned several levels more officious as they came close, and he held his hand up to stop them short about two steps from the kiosk. He did not greet them, just studiously passed the wand over every inch of both Loucas and Bob. The robot made a sound, almost like a giggle.

“Packages aren't to giggle,” the guard glared at Loucas, who could only shrug.

The guard snorted, then slowly went about the rest of his inspection work. Over five long minutes the armed guard’s eyes never left Loucas, and her hands never relaxed around the rifle. Loucas felt more nervous with each moment that passed, then finally bureaucrat-guard was satisfied. He walked to the kiosk and jerked his thumb towards the plaza without bothering to take another look at them. Loucas walked cautiously but deliberately to the broad doorway leading out into the plaza. He passed through with Bob, then stopped short, staring up in awe.

Loucas felt as if he had stepped into the middle of a futuristic vision of downtown Vancouver. Skyscrapers reached for a pale-blue sky, arrayed in a semicircle facing the immense customs warehouse. Between the buildings wide avenues stretched off into the distance, each lined as far as Loucas could see with storefronts.

Bob spoke again. “Pretty place! But we need to get a move on. The building we want is the one second from the left, tallest of them all. Just walk up to the reception office and they'll take me the rest of the way.”

Loucas walked forward, turning to look down at Bob. “All of you? Where will they take you? How long do I wait for you to come back?”

“Oh! Don't bother, I'm the package! Once they accept me, just turn around and head to the building immediately to the right of customs. You've been scanned in by security, so when you’re ready to leave you'll be granted access and shown the quickest path back to Olga.”

Loucas thought this was incredibly strange, but could only shrug and continue on. They crossed the plaza and made for the building, having to push through a crowd of what appeared to be new recruits to some kind of security organization preparing for an event.

“Delivery for Station Rome Event Coordination Office!” Bob called out when they came close to a set of glass doors. Just inside, an elderly man looked up from behind a reinforced but mostly transparent barrier.

“Well hello,” he said with a friendly smile. “Good day to you. Courier delivery, then? And using an old Clatter-class chassis, too? Haven't seen one of those in a day! And someone chose to keep the original voice modulator in the unit. Almost sounds like a real live MI in there, hah! Well, just let me scan you in and we'll move the package into the queue for processing.”

Without waiting for further instructions, Bob trotted through the doors and stood in front of a recess in the wall just below the greeter's window. The operator pushed several buttons, and an array of lights passed over Bob's chassis while the robot stood very still. Loucas heard a buzz, then a beep. A small door just large enough to accommodate Bob opened in front of the robot.

Without another word, Bob was gone. Loucas looked at the greeter, who shrugged.

“They do what they want, those 'bots. Even the dumb ones have a mind of their own. Have a nice day, then.”

Loucas waved goodbye, still very confused but glad to be heading back to his sister. He walked quickly across the plaza, working his way through the fast-swelling crowd, the ones in uniforms forming tidy ranks while civilian onlookers gathered around.

He located the building Bob had indicated, and he was buzzed inside instantly. There he found himself alone in what felt like part of an airport terminal. Except far more high tech, as several lights appeared on the floor that soon resolved into translucent arrows pointing down a long hallway.

Loucas followed the lights down for several minutes before the arrows changed into a large blinking X. Loucas stood on top of it and waited, holding his breath, not sure what to expect.

The floor gave way without warning, Loucas sinking into space before he could even cry out. His stomach jumped into his throat, not only because the elevator moved quickly but also because shaft was transparent. As gut-churning consequence, he could see both the surface of Station Rome as well as the docking spars as he sped between them. He couldn't see anything that looked like what he thought the Jagdkontrol must resemble, but knew it was probably obscured by the docking infrastructure. Loucas was glad the contraption was moving so quickly, because he wasn’t certain he could stomach more than a few seconds.

The churning in his gut only got worse when the elevator shuddered, then trembled violently. A sudden horrible movement on the station's surface caught his eye, fast changing color and distorting like plastic exposed to an open flame. Suddenly he saw a gout of white fire, then a whole section of the station disintegrated without warning, the explosion blasting an enormous mass into the starry sky, tearing through solar arrays and ships caught in the blast.

Loucas could never have imagined such chaos. In zero gravity, every object granted a net acceleration vector by the explosion became a projectile tearing through anything and everything in its path. Chunks scraped along the outer edge of the station, rending terrible gashes along the hull and exposing interior sections. Part of a docking arm was struck and torn away, and to his horror Loucas could see the shapes of bodies floating into the night.

The elevator tube flexed and twisted with great violence, leaving Loucas certain it would snap, sending him too into the cold vacuum outside. Suddenly then the stars disappeared and he gasped, then felt relief as he realized he was safely inside the docking spar. He could hear it now, though, the clamor of tearing metal and panicked people. His heart pounded in his chest, mind frantically trying to recall which side of the spar the Jagdkontrol was on.

The floor markings turned back to arrows, leading down a sharply curving, narrow hallway. He ran down it, tripping several times as the floor shuddered underneath his feet. In the distance klaxons wailed pitifully, and the sound of heavy doors sealing shut reached his ears, some very close now. He ran faster, fighting the burning in his lungs.

Loucas entered a hallway that he recognized, the main corridor he and Bob had taken on their way into the station. He looked over his shoulder and saw that just a short sprint behind him a huge door was closing that would have sealed him away. To his right, the formerly long, curving hallway was blocked by another heavy door. Behind he could hear a pounding sound, as if debris or desperate bodies were striking it.

He turned away, knowing there was nothing he could do. The entrance to the Jagdkontrol wasn't far now, and he reached it, rushing inside. The hatch slammed shut behind him, then there was a hissing sound as it sealed.

Loucas gasped for breath, heart pounding, but relieved. He was back in the Jagdkontrol and, even better, his sister Yari was wide awake, sitting on the bench with a strange, knowing look in her eyes.

“Come on Lou!” Yari cried, patting the bench urgently. Sit here next to me. We'll be safe. Olga made sure of it before letting me go offline to prove I’m okay...”

“Yari, are you OK?” Loucas gasped, struggling to free his feet and failing. “What’s happening?”

“There was a huge explosion!” Yari replied, not concerned in the slightest that she was being encased again. “I was so worried about you! Olga is powering down the ship to avoid being detected by the station defenses. They activated after the explosion and the Toffs aren't letting anyone leave the area. We're going to stay right here, acting like a civilian ship, and wait for a good chance to get out of here.”

Loucas opened his mouth to question her, but was interrupted. A golden orb appeared, its glimmering writhing tendrils clearly not a part of the digital display. But he was so frightened and overwhelmed he paid it little mind. A sickening realization struck him then, and Loucas looked to Yari.

“Yari... did I cause the explosion?” Loucas asked, voice trembling. “Do you know?”

Yari saw the orb too, forcing Loucas acknowledge its existence. She opened her mouth, but hesitated. She looked at him, eyes wide and seeming to glisten with the start of tears, then nodded.

“Grasp the Web!” A voice called from within the shimmering depths of the golden orb. “Grasp the Web!”

“Oh come on, I do not need any more strangeness today!” Loucas cried out, holding his head in his hands. “Go away, new weird thing! I don't want to grasp anything else today! Do you hear me? I just blew up a space station! I'm done!”

Yari shook her head, grabbed Loucas' arm, and before her brother could protest, pulled their hands together to touch the orb as one. Then, they were gone.

CHAPTER 5