Forerunner's Child (8) (Patreon)

Kit was ready for a spacewalk.

She didn't need the taller boy dragging her, huge tail or not. The other seemed a little friendlier, but maybe that was just because of his size. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it sure felt like citizens closer to her height looked down on her less.

Except the ferret—he might just be insane.

"Technically it's not space," said Rich, the taller snow leopard kid. He led them into a ring airlock, then tapped his boots impatiently until the doors closed, and opened on the other side. The transition was almost instant, no time to pump out the air in the connecting room.

"Space is above. We're on the surface."

"But it's the only kind she'll have to do," the fox argued. He held out one hand for her. "Kaden. Maddie sent me to protect you from her assistant."

"Bah!" The door opened, and Rich hurried out. "Protect the barbarian. She could go feral any second, fox. Keep your distance."

Kit froze in the doorway, eyes going wide.

For the first time, she had some idea of the scale of this place. The curved tunnel reached up almost as high as the domed atrium behind them, wide enough for her to do laps from one side to another.

Her tail wrapped around her waist, and she squeezed it with both arms. "It's so..."

"Big, yeah." Kaden pushed her shoulder gently, urging her into a little waiting cart. The door swung open for them, into a much smaller, more comfortable space.

She hurried in, taking the seat farthest from Rich. The cart had no controls, no driver's compartment; just a row of seats on one side and a higher row facing it. Soon they were moving, motor echoing in the huge, vaulted space.

"You're a different kinda fox than Maddie," Kit said conversationally. "She was close to my color, but you're... yellow. And your ears are bigger."

"Biggest in the institute," he said, grinning back. "At least until Forerunner templates a bat. Maybe the next crop of researchers will have one."

"He's a kit fox," Rich said. "But that's your name. He was trying not to confuse you."

"Did it work?"

She nodded. Once in a cart her size, Kit's breathing relaxed. She kept her tail close just in case. "What's my first mission?"

"Making sure you're not incompetent," Rich said. "Basic skills. If you're gonna go feral on us, better to see before we give you anything dangerous."

Kit stuck her tongue out. "Too late. I have an antigrain unit. Right, uh..." She looked sideways. "Where's that?"

Kaden looked her over, then poked her torso lightly at about waist level. "If it's the same as Maddie's and mine... Forerunner likes it out of the way."

"To detach in an emergency," Forerunner said. "And to avoid alterations to your template where not required. There are no organ systems to relocate."

Rich grunted, his tail curling tight around one leg. "Head of Engineering I understand. Why the hell do you have one, Kaden?"

The fox touched his own belt at the same position. "Second generation, remember? It doesn't get removed even when you go to Remedial."

Kit watched for a few more silent seconds, hoping they might volunteer more information. She let go of her tail. "If you're first generation, do you remember... what it's like to live outside the Institute?"

"Nope!" Kaden's smile widened. "We helped found it. No idea what we did before that. But that long ago, I don't think Mara had many people living on it. Wren picked us personally, along with..." He looked down, counting on his fingers for a few seconds. "Twenty. I think there were twenty. Been a few accidents since then, and a lot who only make it out of Remedial for a few years at a time."

His ears flattened, and he looked down, voice wistful. "We still remember them. And you never know when they'll pop back up. We're trying new treatments all the time."

The cart rumbled to a stop, and the door opened. Rich hurried out, jogging rapidly over to the nearby door. "If I have to hear this again, I'm gonna scream. I'll start pre-checks inside."

"Wait." Kit followed the fox. "You said... Wren? The same director?"

He took her shoulder, guiding her away. "Can't stop in the ring. We're holding up traffic."

She couldn't know what that meant—but didn't fight him. She watched closely, hoping her attention would get him to say more. It worked.

He slowed near the door, whispering, "We're old, Kit. There's a price to stay functional. Maddie and I pay it. Wren..." He shook his head once. "I have no idea. She must be in Remedial sometimes. But whenever there's a crisis, she's there. Whenever there's a breakthrough, whenever there's a karaoke night!"

They stepped into another tiny room, and the airlock cycled. Doors closed behind them, then opened on the other side.

"You've had the same leader that whole time?" Kit asked, incredulous. "Centuries and centuries?"

"Leaders do things," Rich said. Despite his apparent indifference, he was listening too. "Wren doesn't need rehabilitation because she doesn't do anything. If all you had to do was be nice to people all day, you wouldn't have any trouble with decoherence either."

The space beyond was similarly oversized, with machinery several times their height humming away along the walls. Pale figures worked some of those machines, backs to Kit and the others. They were still strange enough to make her stop and stare for the second time.

They were human shaped—two arms, two legs, and a head—but made almost entirely of soft white plastic. None had hair or clothing.

"Forerunner?" she guessed. "The Colonial Intelligence would need... hands. If we don't take care of ourselves, I mean."

Rich groaned. "Don't listen to the AI too much. We do lots of our own work. So, you fall asleep in the hall or need someone to remind you to take a shower—that doesn't count as running the whole colony."

"Your assumption is correct," Forerunner said, speaking gently from the nearby wall. "When this Institution first opened its doors, all its templates were smaller than you are—and all engaged with esoteric research. As the political winds of Mara shift, we have been required to adapt. Increasing the maximum complexity of our templates, recruiting practical experts instead of theorists."

"He's talking about me," Rich said. "The rest of your suit is on the table there, see it? Fix your jumpsuit first. Zip it all the way up."

"I can help with the tail if you want," Kaden said. "Know what it's like."

She nodded. In that moment, all her confusion and curiosity faded into the background. Questions and historical records were all very interesting, but neither of those were what had brought her onto the Aether in the first place. Someone had to get out there and gather the data others wrote papers about.

Despite the vast expanse of time Kit had crossed to reach that moment, a space suit was still a space suit. Except in all the ways it wasn't.

Her body wasn't strictly biological, and hers in particular had apparently been designed for working in rugged conditions. She couldn't just wear the suit. It connected to her, expanding her reserves of energy, nutrients, and materials.

The thermal layer connected to her vascular system, not just a pouch of antifreeze. The final, protective layer had its own interface with her muscles and nerves, its woven fibers active to restore much of her stolen physical strength.

But once it was all on, it felt more or less the way she remembered. A tight bubble over her head, the smell of her own breath soon filling the confined area. The suit contracting too tight around her body in some places, and too loose in others.

Granted, no space suit she'd ever worn had a secondary sack on the back. In case anyone had any doubt about its contents, they had even given the sides transparent windows, lining up exactly with the transparent sections on her bodysuit. Anyone who looked would know a squirrel when they saw one.

The helmet did the same thing—instead of just expanding the bubble for maximum strength, the clear not-plastic curved and arced, with two elevated sections for her ears. The choice was so patently absurd she could only assume it was deliberate.

Despite Rich's angry assertions of her uselessness, Kit found the process one of the first genuinely easy tasks she had attempted. Her fingers found all the clasps and zippers, and everything fit exactly right. When she walked in it, the suit quickly adjusted to her, until the added clumsiness was a minor detail in the background.

That might change if she ever had to do anything with her gloves, but until then. "I see why you had to make me a new suit. I've never worn one this comfortable in my life!" Without needing to manually activate it, the suit amplified her voice, so the leopard and fox could hear her clearly.

"Of course we did. It's not just a sack like the ones on that wrecked ship. It's your body. You couldn't wear someone else's body." Rich shuddered at the thought, expression turning sour. "That's just gross."

Given all the functions a suit like this performed, Kit found herself agreeing with the leopard for once. She would not have attached any of those hoses if they hadn't come sealed fresh in little plastic sleeves.

She circled back around the room, adjusting to her new weight. Outside the suit, she was light enough that she felt like she might float away. But with it, the world made a little more sense. Each step needed a precise equilibrium of internal and external forces. Wearing the suit, that balance came to her without the slightest conscious effort.

"There's one thing I don't know," she continued.

"A lot more than one."

She turned her back on the leopard, focusing on Kaden instead. "Your planet, Mara. Why would you build a civilization somewhere without an atmosphere?"

The fox shrugged. "That's a Maddie question. But you can probably figure out the short version. All the easy places—they got people. They lost them, got them, lost them again. Sometimes they got stripped and turned into orbital habitats. Most of the time, technically."

"It is the preferred strategy," Forerunner agreed. "But not here. Conditions on Mara did not allow for it. Please focus, Kit. The airlock is ready for you. You will walk in a straight line through a support tunnel a distance of approximately one kilometer and arrive at an airlock on the other side."

"Wait, that's it?" She stopped beside the door, ears flattening in her helmet. "I got all dressed up to walk in a straight line?"

"You got 'dressed up' to see if your competence matches the aptitude projection," Rich said. "Forerunner, can't you just send her to Remedial? I'll carry her there myself."

The AI responded from outside the helmet this time. His voice was muffled, not meant for Kit directly. But he wasn't actively hiding the words from her, either. "She has significantly higher coherence indicators than you do, Rich. If you're suggesting I should reevaluate her, then I should do the same to you. You would therefore be too small to carry her."

Kaden joined her by the airlock, resting one hand on her shoulder. “Don’t judge Rich too harshly.”

The leopard flicked his black and white tail in her direction, rolling his eyes. “Just get through without needing rescue.”

“And if something does go wrong, better that you’re right there.” Kaden waited by the controls as Kit crossed the threshold. He brought the handle across, and it zipped down, sealing her into the airlock.