Forerunner's Child (18) (Patreon)

Kit advanced slowly through the broken medical bay, dodging chunks of twisted metal and torn plastic. She kept her distance from these, tail lifted high behind her. The last thing she needed was to die twice in the same room.

"The backup is in here. The second casket—the one that doesn't have a body. I'll cut it out."

Under her spotlight, Kit saw her casket clearly—or what was left of it. Forerunner had sliced through the upper section, no doubt a way to remove her from inside without fighting through the broken mechanism. But something reflected out from her casket. Ice? How was that possible?

Kit put her original mission aside, at least for a few seconds. The emergency backup could be recovered after, but first she had to know.

"This will not serve your mission," Forerunner said, a little louder in her suit microphone. "Kit, please turn around."

She didn't turn around. Instead, she dropped down below the bisected casket, peering through a thin layer of sublimating fog.

The casket was huge compared to her current size, as tall as she was standing up and more than twice her length. Even with a missing section, it still dwarfed her.

The interior wasn't empty. Instead, a layer of cloudy not-water-ice filled the whole space, aside from the cables, tubes, and pumps flowing into the body.

There was still a body here. Prolonged exposure to the airless void of this strange world had boiled off enough of the ice to reveal what lay inside, or at least the first few centimeters. It was Kit's headless corpse, still wearing the skin-tight freeze suit.

An eternity in the void left the difference between ice, corpse, and compression wrap difficult to draw, with the once healthy skin now sagging and green from bio preservative. The same was true for the smooth cut running through the neck, revealing far more of Kit's internal structure than she ever wanted to see.

She spun, stumbling away from the casket, and falling to her hands on the medical bay floor. Her breathing turned harsh and shallow, her heartbeat racing in her chest. "You... killed... me..."

"No," Forerunner said, his voice no longer stern. Now it was soft and gentle, a parent trying to reassure their frightened child. "Of course not, Kit. You were dead long before you approached Mara. The bio preservative left an excellent cryogenic fossil, but nothing that could be repaired. I did not need your body to revive you."

His words were simple and logical—her mind rebelled anyway. "She deserved... better. What about a burial? Where I came from, we treat the dead with respect."

"In modern times, we believe it more sensible not to let them die in the first place," Forerunner said, the first hint of frustration in its voice. "Kit, please think rationally. Once the Aether landed, your corpse was exposed to significant new sources of radiation and potential damage. Would you have preferred a delay to construct specialized equipment to recover that corpse, and have it stay dead?"

She sniffed, but no longer had any way to wipe away her tears. They fell freely, splashing down her jumpsuit, blurring her vision. "I... no. I wouldn't..."

It wasn't fair, that she should live while that brave explorer was the one to die. Were they even the same person? Would that Kit be on the ground crying like a child?

Kit looked up, and she could almost see another figure in the room with them—a woman twice her height, with the same gray eyes and bright hair. She had a space suit too, though far bulkier and less advanced. "I would. But it would be joy, to see humans scattered to the stars. I never expected to be part of it forever.”

The image melted in front of her eyes, colors smearing together. Kit blinked, shaking her head sharply to either side. When her sight cleared, her reflection sat on the casket, legs dangling. Her voice changed too, shifting up to match Kit's.

"But now I will be. Live, Kit. Don't mourn the ones we left behind—they accepted our death long ago. Remind these future humans what the old blood was like. Show them why we were on the Aether for them to find."

Kit nodded—but there was no one there. The voice speaking to her was Forerunner, coming in through her helmet radio.

"I can dispatch an emergency recovery crew. If this occurs, protocol compels me to transfer you to Remedial for evaluation. Please listen, Kit."

Kit stood up, then gave her casket a final pat. "You're right, Forerunner. We didn't need to bring back the body. The living don't need a grave."

She turned, walking deliberately to the second casket, then shoved the plastic display cover open. She knew better than to bother with the controls. Sure enough, the interior was full of ice, just like the other casket. Only this one held no body, just a metal cylinder about the size of her fist.

"Oh, you’ve already recovered. I am... relieved."

"I don't need to go to Remedial," Kit said, dragging over an empty crate she could use for a stool. She hopped onto it, then set her toolkit on the casket's surface, and dug out the cutter. "I would like it if you could bury my old body one day. I guess I can't turn into a ghost and haunt the place."

"By some definitions, you already are," Maddie said, over the radio again. The strange mental presence was still there, though neither girl had said anything since she reached Medical. "Assuming I understand the implications of the word. The dead returned!"

Kit said nothing, focusing on her work. She sliced away at the upper section, tossing aside wires and tubes until she revealed the solid block. She etched away at the section she intended to extract, careful to keep her distance from the precious cargo within.

"Since you've seen the body, I'll say you look much cuter now," Maddie continued.

"Maddie, please. She's about to extract the backup. Let her work in peace."

That Kit heard the reproach told her everything she needed to know. No interruption came during her labor. At her reduced size, it took far longer than it should have. The ice parted easily for her cutter, but it produced a blade so small that she had to slice away at the preservative block in chunks, until at last she exposed the cylinder within, with bits of half-melted goo clinging to it on all sides.

"That looks nothing like your mainframe," Forerunner finally said, once she had it safely in her hands. "What is the purpose of freezing it in that way?"

Kit brushed away as much ice as she could, then lowered it reverently into her pack. The cylinder was entirely solid, without even a bubble inside. Even so, she moved as though she held a priceless artifact, one that might explode at the slightest perturbation.

"These caskets are on the same circuit. Thawing one thaws the other. They keep power longer than anything else on the ship. When I woke up, I was supposed to bring this with me onto the lander, then take it down to the surface. I guess I am now."

She glanced back one last time at her final resting place, then set out from the wrecked ship. No matter her curiosity about the state of the vessel, and her hope that some of her belongings might be intact, her focus was on something more important now. She would get the backup to the Institute no matter what.

"I may require your help to decipher the data stored on that device," Forerunner said. "I will worry about those preparations."

"I doubt there's anything too incredible on this," she said, reaching the ladder. She took careful grip of the rungs, then lowered herself over the edge. Descending was doubly dangerous now that she had something more breakable than she was. "You know more than we do about everything."

"Depends on what made your mission fail," Maddie said. "If there are sensor readings from your ship..."

"There are." She took each rung slowly, securing her boots firmly before lowering to the next. A block of cryogenic ice kept this backup from shattering on landing. Now that it was out, it was vulnerable. "Up until the second I went under."

"Do not distract her," Forerunner said, voice harsh. "You can have this conversation later. When the object is packed safely on a transport."

Kit left the Aether in silence, with a fox trailing behind her. Maddie followed without a word, at least not until they reached the transport and the doors opened. A rectangular sample container waited on the floor, lid already open. Kit needed no instruction to know what to do.

Once the backup was secure, she climbed in, waiting for the fox to hop up before slamming the door closed behind her.

Air rushed through the car, hissing and squealing as it filled the previously-empty space.

"You found it," Maddie said, the radio barely audible over the repressurizing cabin. "You've earned those cookies for sure. And maybe a nice long nap after."

She sank down into the nearest chair, careful not to step on the little fox's tail as she went down. She leaned forward, resting her arms in her lap. "Yeah. Kinda... feels that way now, actually. Wake me up when..."

Kit dreamed of a forest, of ancient pines that towered and clear water that gurgled and frothed. It took her a moment to realize where she was, and another to recognize the ones watching her.

Maddie and Wren, sitting on opposite sides of the stream. Their leader was resting on a large rock, legs dangling over the water. Maddie was right there in the mud, occasionally reaching down through the surface at passing fish. Until she noticed Kit and looked up. "Oh. The connection was open when you fell asleep. Oops."

"Stuck here now." Wren waved her over, gesturing at a sunny spot on the rock next to her. "You insisted on the implant. It's your responsibility to educate her.”

Kit made it to the stream, then braced herself and hopped over. She landed in the mud, then climbed the rest of the way up to take the offered seat.

"I will!" Maddie pointed at the ribbon in her hair. "If you don't switch this off before you sleep, you'll spend your whole sleep cycle on the mesh. Sometimes that's what you want, it's amazing for productivity! But sometimes you don't want to be productive. I wouldn't have you dragged here against your will."

Kit nodded, reaching up to feel the oversized bow in her hair. "Is it just the three of us with these?"

"Currently," Maddie said. "Two more in Remedial. And Rich, but he can't use his with his template. He's so proud of being tall that he won't upgrade. So just the three of us right now."

She felt a hand on her leg, as warm and lifelike as she would've while awake. "We watched your conversation with that girl—Sarah. I didn't want to ask while you were visiting your old ship. I hope you don't mind."

She shrugged. Kit wasn't surprised that Wren had ways of watching radio messages. She was the Director. "So, you agree with me," Kit said. "Forerunner doesn't really care about us. It's all a lie."

"No," Maddie said. "And yes. Forerunner is lying... but not about that. I told you; Personas don't work that way. They are what they are."

Wren released her leg, then stood up. She stretched, so far that she seemed to get several inches taller. Maybe that was an ermine thing. "There's another explanation. Forerunner can't lie about his directives. But he can lie about other things."

"The conversation you had," Maddie continued. "I think he faked it. And we can prove it." She waved her hand through the air, and something appeared there—a tower, with cables snaking their way up from ground level. "One of the upgrades I had scheduled was a refit to the broadcast tower. I'm moving it up to the top of your list. When the sun goes down again, that's where you're headed."

"Okay." She stretched out on the rock, resting her head against her tail. "Can I sleep first?"

"Sure." Maddie waved, and Kit's rock transformed too. It turned soft and fluffy underneath, a huge version of the fox's pet-bed. Suddenly comfortable and safe. The sun vanished, plunging her into a soothing darkness. "Rest now, squirrel. I'll have your treats ready when you get back."

They left her in that forest. In that lonely darkness, she could almost feel a pair of huge hands pulling a blanket over her shoulder, and a voice older than any member of the Institute. "Live for me, Kit. Make it count.”