Challenge #01847-E023: The Only Sensible One
"We are a crew of 7 persons : 2 deathworlders, 4 havenworlders and a sentient AI. The havenworlders are the scientist and the AI is the medic. I'm the only human and the security officer. What is my problem ? Well, let me think about it... . The captain is an adrenaline junky who might send the ship in a high danger zone just for his rush, the doc is obsessed with humans, and the havenworlders are just... too curious without self-preservation instincts.... Two days ago one of them found and lit a flare because "it's pretty". Inside the ship.
Did you ever feel like you are the last sane man on the ship ?" -- Anon Guest
I used to joke that I'm not the security chief, I'm the ship's mother. It's... not a joke any more. Or at least, it's stopped being funny. I'm looking after four little tiny bird people with breakable damn bones whose first instinct with cliffs is to jump off and go, 'wheee!' And I'm one of those species for whom that instinct is a bad thing. Then there's Grox. A heavy-worlder who can do that sort of thing, bounce, and laugh about it after.
Let's just say I added wing and parachute capabilities to my livesuit and leave it at that. And then there's Bosco. Well. I call them Bosco. Their actual designation has way more letters and numbers than I care to pronounce. The most pronounceable part of it sounds something like 'Bosco' and it took us two entire Standard Months to work that one out. Bosco's an AI. One of the ones where their creator actually aimed for that output and not -say- a Deuteronomy situation where a Nae'hyn got bored and made a baby. Like. Out of spare parts.
Bosco's technically a medical probe? Their mind and memory are in a back-up black box set-up with remote connectivity to their body of the day. Technically speaking, Bosco can teleport anywhere within comms range, so long as there's a body there. Ze has a cosmetic form, which is sort of humanoid if you like Daft Punk mixed in with Metropolis and deliberately on the non-human peak of the Uncanny Valley. Oh, and all of hir exploration bodies are (a) organic (b) disposable and (c) capable of being shot from the ship and surviving a sub-orbital cannonade.
Ze likes to jump of cliffs too. Everyone loves flakkin' jumping off of cliffs except for me. Weird for a spacer to hate heights, but it's... specific heights. The deadly ones where the stop at the end will definitely hurt or kill you. High enough to be in orbit, or low enough to survive, I'm cool. I just have this pathological aversion to situations in which I could break a bone or -you know- die. But of course, I'm the only human these ratbags know, so I'm the resident expert on Human Stuff.
Bosco's been obsessed with humans and humanity since ze crossed the path of a concert put on by the Consortium of Steam. I tell you. Those robots are a gateway drug or something. Artificial enough for everyone to know they have constraints. Human enough to... well.. they got kicked out of the AI alliance because of their artificial humanity. That's all you need to know.
"Is a fear of heights common amongst humans?" ze will ask, shortly before hurling their current body right the flakk off a cliff that the rest of them have hurtled off.
"Only the ones with sense," is my usual reply. Pain hurts. It's the ultimate discouragement. But, since it's that or try to abseil down, I usually go with my wings. And screaming. Screaming is great emotional catharsis.
I swear to the Powers That Be, I need six short leashes and all the camomile tea I can get. Every away mission, it's the same thing.
"Trip, stay away from any moving plants!"
"Than, can you just do things the safe-- fuckit."
"Eko, I swear if you start licking rocks again..."
"Than. No. Do not-- THAN!"
"Lipi... we've discussed taste-testing the local flora. We have scanners for that."
"Yes, Bosco, this level of tremula is perfectly normal for a human un-- POWERS DAMNIT THAN! --under this much stress."
"Grox, stop encouraging them!"
"Red choice! RED FLAKKING CHOICE!"
"THAAAAAAAAAAANNNN!"
I swear. Pick a God, I will swear... those little scientific birdies have the self-preservation instincts of a concussed whelk.
And I know exactly why, too. They have two big, strong, damn near indestructible Deathworlders coming with to make sure they don't come to any harm. They have tons of fun. I can tell. They flakking love this team makeup. Especially the disposable doctor who can follow them where angels would fear to tread.
But at the end of the day? Come shore leave? I take a spa week. A month, if I can swing it. And try to come up with snappy PSA's for my fellow crew that boil down to, Please don't give the human an aneurysm, and this means you especially, Than.
I'm starting to think that memes might pass these suicidally curious little birdies right by.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / cybernesco]
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