Ravana's Shadow (26) (Patreon)

“Director.” Something nudged her shoulder, startling Kit slowly to wakefulness. There was a blue sky overhead, and swaying trees. Where on Mara…

Nowhere. Staring up at that ceiling a little longer, she realized the clouds were sliding along a flat surface, without depth or dimension. The ceiling was a… curved screen?

She sat up groggily, stretching to one side. She was in the grass, spread out in a pile of blankets and various soft things. Several colonists gathered near her—the mouse Jay, but smaller ones too. Jonah was here, curled up tighter than any larger template could do with any comfort.

Atop the hill was a flat platform, a makeshift stage, where the drama club had reinacted stories from the colony’s fictional founding. Now the stage had colonists sprawled across its surface, wrapped in blankets and pillows like everyone else.

She knew the other names—Callum, the ocelot with a tail that seemed too long for his body, especially at 30%. Indra the skunk, who thankfully did not seem to have the requisite organs to smell the way her name might suggest. A half-dozen others, all sleeping around the foam seats they had used to watch the play.

Someone nudged her again—a faceless fabric drone. Then Forerunner spoke, incredibly quiet. “Director, if you would follow me.”

She glanced once down at the sleeping colonists, at where Jay was resting not far from where Kit had been. Keeping her assistant with her had worked, after all. He hadn’t left to join the other patients. Her administration wasn’t doomed yet. “Should I…”

The drone gestured again, and she followed. She crept after it, weaving through a huge, silent room. There were a dozen different small gatherings, each one sheltered in their own little nest of blankets and pillows.

Forerunner moved between them, scooping up tiny colonists from inside and carrying them away. He left the older templates behind and seemed to be moving in a specific pattern.

Forerunner’s drone didn’t stop walking for her to look. She scampered after it, right into the junction tunnel leading to another dome of the Institute. The same ones that were usually sealed to traffic, for obvious reasons.

It wasn't empty—and not just because of the Institute drones carrying sleeping colonists. Someone was waiting inside, the only other girl Kit expected to be able to bypass Forerunner's "guards."

Morgan had her helmet off, though she still wore the full suit otherwise. That made her several inches taller than Kit, even at a template of the same index. "Director." She folded her arms across her chest as Kit approached. "You're having fun, I see."

Kit reached weakly up, straightening her hair as best she could. It made little difference—there was something tangled in it, and a few small objects stuck in her tail. Was that candy? Lucien, probably. That ferret had been crawling around for at least an hour before he finally fell asleep.

"Less than usual, I'll admit." She stopped just inside, trying to recreate a little of Wren's glare. But this ermine wasn't Garrick. It was so much easier to be angry when she was talking to an outsider who wanted to screw them. "Not sure how long I was out. Still feel a little... groggy."

"The snacks," Forerunner supplied, helpfully. "Call it a compromise between your plan and Wren's. The sedative would guarantee the population remained asleep long enough to complete repairs to the Institute. This proved fortunate, as they took somewhat more time than originally anticipated."

Sedatives. One hand clenched into a fist, and her tail lifted behind her. Wren could wear a suit all she wanted; Kit still had the bigger tail. "You poisoned us? You did what she said?"

"What I said was to knock people out instantly, zap their short-term memories, and carry them back to their beds," Wren said. She didn't move, arms held as sharp as the glaciers of Mara's surface. "You got your way. A new... holiday. Interaction between surface colonists and remedial patients. Total breakdown of the social order."

The door opened again, and Maddie walked calming past them, carrying a sleepy otter in her arms. She held one finger over her lips, continuing past the conversation and down another hall. Forerunner remained silent until another door shut behind her.

"There were no permanent losses," he said. Another drone approached them—with a bottle in one hand, and several brushes in the other. Without a word, it dropped to one knee next to Kit, then sprayed at her hair, working the little bits of sticky goop out. "The communications tower was a prop and will not be rebuilt. Structural damage across the Institute has been repaired. The only significant loss we suffered was the mass of the test vehicle."

Wren cleared her throat. "17. That's the loss, Forerunner. 17 empty beds upstairs, 17 new patients who will contribute nothing to the Institute for a decade or more."

Forerunner remained silent—but it wasn't the robot Morgan was glaring at. She went on. "You think you're here to act reckless and break things, squirrel. You think it's endearing you're an insane barbarian. If we thought like you, Mara would be a lifeless husk by now. The Aether would've drifted right past Surya without slowing down."

What could she say? Kit's ears folded flat, and her tail sagged. It might've flopped onto the floor, if the drone didn't finish with her hair and start on the tail next. "The Ravana mission is our best hope. If you don't like the way I'm doing things—tell me. I can include you in every planning meeting from now until launch."

Wren took one little step closer to her. "It's insane to keep doing this. At least if we stop now, we can still salvage most of our resources. We only give up a few centuries of time on this. We can get back to the way we were doing things."

Morgan probably knew a hundred ways to kill her. Ermine or not, she was still a Star Marine. She might have real weapons, or secret violent implants, or maybe some magical way to vaporize her with her mind. Kit risked it anyway. She won't hurt me. We're on the same team.

"I'm not giving up because of a setback, Wren. Maybe Forerunner thinks differently—I know he can replace me if he wants. But I trust my people, and they told me we're still on the right track. The mission is still happening."

 "Because one human dies?" Wren pressed, moving close to her. She didn't touch Kit, but she was close enough to feel the heat of her breath on her face. "One human who hates us. Who could live a lot easier if he just did what we told him. Maybe he'll have a change of heart when the food is running out."

"Not for him," Kit said. She held still—maybe because of the drone working scissors through her sensitive tail, or maybe something else. No matter how short the Institute made her, Kit wasn't the kind of person to just surrender and do what others told her. "For the Institute. Because that asteroid has all the material needed to build a large and successful colony. We don't have to send risky probes to smaller ones, asteroids we already know couldn't sustain a colony on their own. Otherwise, there would be a Forerunner seeded there too, wouldn't there?"

Wren didn't answer, but she did hesitate, backing up a step. I'm right, aren't I?

"You can ask Forerunner to side with you," Kit continued. "Maybe he will, dunno. But I'm not canceling the mission."

Wren kept glaring at her for another few seconds. Then she turned away, lowering her arms. "I'm glad you believe what you're saying. Conviction isn’t the same as truth, though. I've seen a lot of good people make that mistake. It only takes once to be dead." She took a few steps back, to another hallway Kit had never used before. "I can't suggest mission changes, even less than you can. I leave the technical decisions to the experts." 

Her shoulders slumped, ears folding flat atop her head. "You're their leader now, Kit. When this is over, you will face the account. Everyone you sacrifice, all those years and all that material, the universe is keeping score. You have no idea how important we are.”

She stopped in an automatic doorway. It opened, revealing an elevator beyond. That wasn't the entrance—why would Remedial have an elevator? Unless Kit had imagined it, the car within emerged from the bottom of the shaft, not the top.

"As far as I know, we're the last of the human race. There's no fleet, there's no flotilla, there's no—well, you saw my memories. You already know. This colony must survive."

She took a step back, and the automatic door closed. Kit couldn't see where it went, but she imagined it sweeping down into the floor, carrying Wren to parts unknown. 

There are sections of the Institute under Remedial. "Where did she go?" Kit asked, glancing sideways at the drone. "I didn't know we had anything down here."

"Nothing human accessible," Forerunner said. "My core is there, along with a number of other systems operated only by drone. You could go there if you wished, but there would be nothing to see or do. I am no warrior persona carrying a spark of the first star. I constructed my own body in iterative stages, using materials salvaged from the Acheron. It's just servers, supplies, redundancies. It's also much too cold to enter without a full EVA suit, so you could not go now."

Kit sighed. "Nah. You're already right here. I don't think looking at computers changes anything. Unless... you think it does."

The drone finished what it was doing, then stood. It patted her once on the back. "No, Director. As I have said, I am not a person as you understand them. If you wished to show me affection, I ask that you redirect it towards your fellow colonists."

She looked up at the drone, or tried. But even here, they seemed deliberately constructed to avoid her personifying them. There were no eyes to meet, no face to read. Remedial drones had heads, but no features there, just fabric. Forerunner wanted colonists making friends with each other, not him.

"What now, Forerunner?"

The service drone replaced the spray bottle it was carrying, ran a brush through her hair a few more times, and carefully tied her ribbon there. Then it turned, vanishing out the way it came. "The Remedial patients will remain sedated for some time. Once they're all out of this dome, we can rouse the population and make an orderly exit. There is still work to do. As you said, the Ravana mission is by far our best chance for the Institute's long-term survival."

There was little fanfare in the return to the world they knew. Kit let the drones wake everyone, rejoining her group as though she hadn't left. Yet those with "ruggedized" bodies for the Ravana mission seemed more resistant to the sedative than most. 

Maddie and Abel both watched Kit come back inside. At least they were cooperative enough to stay quiet about it.

"We aren't changing the standards about patients. Those who come downstairs for treatment require a comfortable space to heal, and they can't have that with us down here. We can return again in a year—or maybe we'll bring them upstairs to our section. We have time to plan for it."

There was a nervous mutter in the crowd. If the Institute population suspected what had been done to them, Kit saw no sign. But that didn't mean they were enthusiastic to be going upstairs.

"Pretty sure there was an evacuation," Sawyer said, as soon as Kit finished her little speech. "I've never known Forerunner for his sense of humor. If he said the surface was unsafe..."

"The surface is safe," Forerunner said, using the speakers throughout the room. "As I said, the evacuation was a precautionary measure. The test vehicle suffered a premature detonation, and there was a chance of... cascading damage or system failures. I have completed an extensive inspection of the upper sections and find them entirely fit for habitation."

"Oh. I guess that's fine," Sawyer said. Like every colonist, he looked and smelled like someone who still needed some time to recover from the day's excitement. Many hours in vigorous "outdoor" activities were hardly suited towards keeping everyone clean, even if they had slept.

"Where are the 30% citizens?" Emma asked, from the other side of the room. She gestured at where her team had been sleeping, and the many open spots there. Kit hadn't got a good look at them during the event, but aside from Sadie, Emma's entire team were Remedial patients. Forerunner had put the doctor to work. "They're gone."

"They need time to recover," Kit said. "It's possible we can do something later to allow everyone to say proper goodbyes. Maybe we can organize brief reunions, or exchange messages. But I'm sure many of you are eager to get back upstairs, into your own rooms."

Emma settled back onto the ground, looking defeated.

Maybe not the reaction she'd been hoping for—but at least there was Sadie to wrap her arm around the bunny and hold her.

"We still have a mission to launch," Kit continued. "We succeeded with one test, but that doesn't mean we're done. We have to solve all our issues before we fly the Neophyte. We have to build a launch vehicle that doesn't explode. And we have to do it all in the next six months, before the human we're trying to rescue can die. So please, take the time you need. But don't forget, we still have a job to do. The Institute is counting on you."

The room emptied, one little group at a time. Kit waited as Forerunner's drones led other kids away, packing the elevator as full as it could go. Most of her citizens were eager to go with it, only a small number were hesitant.

Two of those were Emma and Sadie, sitting together in their little pile of pillows. Only empty blankets marked where their friends from Remedial had been.

Kit made her way over, finally settling down beside the doctor. "Hey, Emma. Is everything okay?"

The bunny looked up, settling both hands in her lap. "You're supposed to be—you're the smaller one, Kit. I'm supposed to be helping you."

Kit shrugged. "You have many times, Emma. You made me feel welcome and safe when they first thawed me out. I doubt I would see the Institute as my home if it wasn't for you."

The bunny sniffed, then rocked slowly back and forth in place. Kit looked to Sadie for more guidance, but the cat said nothing. She only met Kit's eyes, face deadly serious.

So, she waited, fighting slightly in her jumpsuit. The longer she stayed up, the more she noticed the smells. She wasn't any better off than Sawyer. But she didn't have to rush to the public bath, Kit had her own. Being Director came with some perks.

"You're still going forward with the mission," she finally said. "Even after the explosion."

Kit nodded. There weren't many other citizens to overhear, but a few trickled over. Jay was first, though for once her assistant didn't have his usual tablet. Had he misplaced it somewhere? "Unless my experts tell me it can't be done. I don't think they'll do that."

Emma swallowed. Her hands moved up and down several times, as though she were thinking of grabbing something—maybe starting to sign it? Whatever the reason, she gave up and stood, holding one hand towards Kit. "I've made my decision. If this is really what the Institute is doing, then I'm going to be part of it. I'll head up to medical right now to be downclassed."

Sadie stood up with her. Kit did the same. 

"I'll be there to help her with the physical therapy and stuff," Sadie said, conversationally. "But I doubt she'll need as much. Emma was always better at being small than I was."

The bunny glared down at her, with an intensity that could melt a bulkhead. "Careful, cat. I'm still 100% right now. I'll remember what you say."

Sadie backed away from her—but there was nothing to run away from. Institute colonists weren't about to use violence against each other! Even Wren didn't, when Kit directly opposed her chosen strategy. Violence wasn't their way.

"I'm glad. I was beginning to worry I would have to fabricate another doctor. I'm not entirely confident that would go over well."

"There's a procedure," Emma said, one ear folding over in something like a shrug. "For fabricating new people. Typically, with a batch of twenty, since that's the number of Biofabricators we keep on standby. But it takes a lot of time and resources to make that work. Singular fabrications, like you or Sarah..." 

Emma looked away. "Not always successful. And even if you could find the perfect candidate, there isn't a single doctor in Forerunner's database who knows as much about uplifting as I do. I will not send you up there with my inferior copy. You will just have to make do with a version of me that's... significantly diminished."

"I doubt that," Kit said. "Forerunner told me the 80% templates used to be the whole institute. You wouldn't have picked this size if we couldn't get things done."

Emma took another few steps back. "I'm only telling you so you don't miss me for the next little while. I'll be joining your training missions soon enough. Also, you might have to help those citizens you asked to get pulled out of Remedial. Lucky them they're sleeping in the printer upstairs, so they missed that holiday. Sure they'd be heartbroken over it."

They slipped away, leaving only Kit and Jay behind in the center of the daytime dome. 

Of the population, anyway. Drones were still here. They moved through the grass, gathering up empty snacks and discarded pillows and generally cleaning the place up. All passed them by, leaving the two of them alone near the center. 

"What happens next, Director?" Jay asked. "We're not giving up?"

"Not giving up," she agreed. "We build another one. Then we get inside and fly to Ravana."

"You do," he said hastily, taking one dramatic step away. "I'm not getting into a rocket. Hardly believe that anyone else is."

Kit turned to go. "They still know it's our best chance of saving the Institute."