Author’s Note
Our intrepid crew has stopped off in a quiet little system in the remote end of the galaxy to paint over the former ship’s name with The Black Prince. It should be a simple task. Of course, in space, nothing is ever easy.
Chapter 10: Farmer Girl
On Board The Black Prince
Emily leaned back in the pilot’s seat. She swiveled around to face Lúcia at an oblique angle and sighed. She draped her hand loosely over the arm of the chair and reached out with her fingers.
Lúcia, slouched in the copilot seat, took Emily’s hand in hers, weaving their fingers together.
Music was playing from the speakers in the conn.
“So sweet,” muttered Emily.
“Thank you.”
“Which one is this again?”
Lúcia cocked her head.
“The song,” said Emily.
Lúcia craned her neck just enough to examine the display on the small device clipped to the arm of her jumpsuit. “The Delfonics.”
“That’s right.”
Lucia turned a half-lidded gaze to Emily. “It’s called, ‘Didn’t I?’ And the in the parentheses, ‘Blow Your Mind’.”
“Mm-hmm,” said Emily. “So did I? The part in the parentheses?”
“There are angels looking down upon us on this day, my love, locked in eternal struggle. For I am quite certain they are torn between the desire to maintain their heavenly position or fall to Earth if only for the chance to taste your sweet lips.”
“I’ve never had anybody put it quite like that,” said Emily. “I like you, Lúcia.”
“Do you see that red glow over there?”
“Just the aftereffects of the fireworks, baby. From when I blew your mind that time.”
“No,” said Lúcia. “Though it was a most enthusiastic hour of kissing. I was referring to the glow over there on the console.”
“Oh hon, it’s just collision avoidance,” said Emily. “Tell me again about that part with the angels… Oh, shit.” Emily sat bolt upright
“What is it, my sweet? Is your mind no longer blown? Perhaps we can fix that with another—”
Emily snatched the microphone from its cradle. “Uh, Cap’n,” she said. “Maybe you two should come back inside. We got a bogie on the scope.”
Jade’s voice crackled over the speaker in the conn, momentarily interrupting sweet, soulful intonations of The Delfonics. “English, Science Officer Emily. English.”
“Cap’n, collision avoidance is tracking an object of interest. Looks like it’s coming from the space station behind you.”
“Space station?” Amaliya’s static-laced voice emanated from the speaker. “What space station?”
“Behind us,” said Jade.
“I thought is was a moon. Didn’t you tell me it was a moon?”
Emily keyed the mic. “That’s no moon, it’s a—”
“An old orbital farm.” Jade’s voice crackled. “Like really old. Abandoned. Nobody grows food that way anymore. Not since protein synthesis. Space junk. Might as well be a moon.”
“We grow food that way,” Amaliya said. “At least, Lúcia does.”
“That’s cause our galley’s all jazzed up. Otherwise any sane person would—”
“I like Lúcia’s vegetables,” interrupted Amaliya, her radio mic crackling.
Lúcia grinned. Emily pressed her lips together in a tight line.
“Me too, baby,” said Jade. “It’s just that—”
Emily keyed the mic again. “Listen, we all love Lúcia’s veggies, but that doesn’t change the fact that collision avoidance is tracking an object of interest and you two are currently between it and the ship. I think for everyone’s safety—”
“How close?” asked Jade.
“What?”
“The object of interest. How close is it?”
“I don’t know. Couple thousand kilometers. Moving slow. Erratic. Collision avoidance rates it as a five.”
“Out of five?” Jade said. “That’s like the lowest, isn’t it? We just started painting. Amaliya, honey, how much is left?”
Amaliya’s voice came over the speakers. “Right now it says, ‘The Bla’. The rest is primer.”
“The Bla?” said Emily.
“The hull,” said Jade. “As in we still haven’t painted the ‘c—k— Prince’. You wanna sail the stream as ‘The Bla’? Not me, hon. We’d never live it down. Dread Captain Jade and the crew of the mighty Bla. Nope. Ain’t goin’ out like that.”
“Would it change your mind if I told you the console is now displaying a probability of four?” asked Emily.
Lúcia kitted her brow. “Why is the screen flashing?”
“Make that a three, Cap’n.”
“Shit,” said Jade. “Amaliya, baby, come on, let’s pack it up and get back inside.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
A deep thrumming sound filled the conn as the light flickered momentarily.
“What was that?” asked Lúcia.
“Reactor’s kicking up,” said Emily. “Getting ready to bring the rail guns online.”
“What was that?” crackled Jade’s voice.
“Rail guns charging. Reactor’s compensating,” said Emily, into the microphone this time.
“I felt that in my feet,” said Amaliya.
“Get your asses in here. Pronto.” Emily dropped the mic and reached for the safety harness. “Lúcia, honey, strap in, okay.”
Lúcia shot a crisp salute, grinned, and reached for her safety harness.
Still dressed in her pressure suit, with her helmet dangling from her left hand, Jade stood leaning over the scope. “What the fuck?” she muttered.
The console pulsed red.
“Begging the captain’s pardon, but I strongly suggest you strap in,” said Emily.
Amaliya tugged Jade by the hand and they both took up residence in the two unoccupied seats.
“I swear that thing looks like a—”
Jade’s speculation was interrupted by a piercing staccato beep. The console began flashing faster. The thrumming of the reactor reverberating through the hull increased, follow by a whirring.
“Captain…” said Emily, eyes fixed on the collision avoidance console. “We’re at threat level two. Outer doors just opened. Rail guns have cleared their—”
“Microbus,” said Jade, slamming her fist on the console. “Fucking Microbus.”
“Captain?”
“Shut ‘er down, Em. It’s not a meteor. It’s a ship.”
“The collision avoidance A.I. would tend to disagree with that assessment, Cap’n. It’s not letting me override.”
“Shit.” Jade picked up the mic. “Unidentified craft, this is Black Prince, Actual. You are on a collision trajectory. Change course immediately or you will be fired upon.”
“Black Prince Actual?” Amaliya said, furrowing her brow.
Jade swiveled to meet her gaze. “It means the captain is speaking. You know, instead of a junior officer on comm duty.”
Amaliya shrugged.
“Makes us sound more official,” said Jade. “Like we’re not to be trifled with. Just in case this little ship is full of nefarious individuals.”
“Like making yourself look big and yelling at bears when you encounter them in the woods,” said Lúcia.
“That happens a lot for you?”
“Discovery channel,” said Lúcia.
There were nods all around the conn.
Jade keyed the mic again. “Unidentified, uh… Microbus. Say again. This is Black Prince, Actual. Change course immediately or you will be fired upon. Our collision avoidance computer has you locked. Rail guns are tracking your position. Check your scope if you don’t believe me.”
“Whoa, say again Black Prince?” came a voice from the speaker. The increased thrumming from the reactor made it difficult to discern.
“You. Are. About. To. Be. Annihilated,” said Jade.
“Bogus,” said the voice.
The thrumming of the reactor mechanics was felt throughout the hull.
“Listen, man. Change course now or—”
Jade’s words fell short as a loud pop echoed from somewhere down the corridor. The conn was enveloped in darkness for a moment before being bathed in the dim glow of red LED lighting.
All around was deathly quiet.
“What just happened?” asked Amaliya.
The console flickered and beeped once, displaying the manufacturer’s logo briefly before initiating its start-up sequence.
“I’d say the reactor just shit itself,” said Jade. “And we’re on emergency power.”
Emily tapped and swiped at the pilot’s console as it came back online. “Yep,” she said. “Reactor scram. Popped breakers on number two and number three cooling pumps. Automatic shutdown.”
“What?” said Amaliya.
“Sorry about that, man,” came the crackly voice from the radio. “Veering off.”
“What the fuck?” said Amaliya, her head in her hands. “Are we dead? Is this heaven? Lúcia? Is this what heaven looks like?”
Lúcia tapped at the device strapped to her arm. “If it is, there is no music.”
“Reactor overloaded. Couldn’t cool itself and shut down as a precaution,” said Jade. “It’s a good thing. Otherwise… well…”
“We’d be dead,” said Amaliya. “Fuck.” A tear streamed down her cheek. “Fuck.”
“Baby,” said Jade, reaching out. Emily and Lúcia joined in.
A moment later, a red faced Jade grabbed the microphone. “Listen here, you hippy dicktard. We almost blasted you out of the sky like space junk. And you really freaked out my girlfriend. Where’s your fucking transponder signal? Huh?”
“Broke, man,” came the voice from the radio. “Expensive.”
“We can 3D print you one,” offered Emily.
“Nah, man, it’s cool. Don’t need The Man keeping tabs on me anyway,” said the voice on the radio. “Hey I noticed your running lights are burned out, man.”
“It is not the only thing burned out,” said Lúcia to no one in particular.
“That’s because the reactor scrammed when our ship was preparing to blast your lousy ass into—”
“Whoa, man, sounds like you might need some repairs. Spare parts on that space station back there. But watch out for the spiders. They’ll bite ya. Adios, amigas!”
The Microbus image on the scope grew smaller until it eventually disappeared.
“What a dipshit,” muttered Jade.
“Fu-uh-uck.” Amaliya shuddered.
Jade wrapped her in a hug.
“The good news is, the breakers reset automatically and the reactor start-up sequence just kicked in,” said Emily, still tapping at the console.
“And the bad news?” said Lúcia.
“It’s about a thirty-six hour process to achieve a stable reaction after a cold shutdown,” said Jade.
“Yep,” said Emily. “The computer estimates thirty-five and a half. But who’s counting?”
“Thirty-six hours of the red light district?” Amaliya raised her head and turned toward the emergency lighting. She rubbed under her eye. “Normally I’d say it’s romantic if I hadn’t almost shit myself.”
“Not to mention the CO2 scrubbers are offline,” said Jade. “Eventually we’ll have to suit up and breathe canned air. Fucking hippy in a microbus.”
“Anybody else thinking that space station is looking like a really good option?” asked Emily.
“How’s thrusters?” said Jade.
Emily swiped at the console. “Steam pressure’s still up. Barely. Couple of blasts, maybe.”
“Science officer Emily, point us toward that space station and give ‘er whatever’s left before it all goes cold.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
Emily sent her hands over the controls. There were two short hissing sounds followed by one longer one that echoed through the hull. “Trajectory is dead on. About twenty minutes.”
The crew let out a collective sigh.
On Board the Space Station.
“I was expecting something more impressive,” said Amaliya, her helmet dangling at her side.
“It’s an airlock,” said Jade.
“Yeah, on a really big space station. Shouldn’t it be a really big airlock?”
Emily pulled out the Michelin Guide and swiped at the screen. “Orbital farm,” she said. “Takahashi-Ono corporation. Probably a Mark I, judging from the picture.”
“Takahashi-Ono, huh?” Amaliya glanced around the dim confines of the airlock. A florescent tube was flickering in the corner. “One star. Do not recommend.”
“I’ve heard of orbital farms,” Jade said. “Never seen one.”
“Says here they were used as a way to grow crops while the planets below…” Emily swiped at the Michelin Guide. “Or moons, it says there was one in orbit around a moon that was the sight of a violent uprising and is now on the international historic register. I get the feeling that’s the only reason it made it past the guide’s editors. Otherwise, mostly boring statistics.”
“Planets below, what?” asked Amaliya.
“What?” said Emily.
“You said planets below or moons.”
“Oh, right. Terraforming.”
“That’s what I remember about them,” said Jade, snapping her fingers. “Planets take time to terraform, but the people need to eat. So they tow these hulks into orbit while shit gets straightened out down below. That was all before direct synthesis.”
“Sometimes I wonder how we survived as a species,” said Amaliya.
Shrugs came from all around, except for Lúcia. She had squatted down and was extending a finger toward a shiny, metal disc with eight legs and two mechanical pincers.
“Um, Lúcia,” said Jade. “Remember what the dude said about the spiders?”
“Decapod,” said Amaliya.
“What?”
“Eight legs, two pincers. It’s a decapod. I’d say a crab, from the look of it.”
“So hippie dude can’t count. I’m guessing the claws are the parts that bite,” said Jade. “And you’re feeling better, huh?”
“I popped a tranq before we left.” Amaliya shrugged once, then grinned.
The shiny metal crab skittered around in front of Lúcia while winking twin red LEDs on stalks.
“Lúcia, honey,” said Jade.
The metal crab pranced in a circle and flipped itself over. Eight little legs pistoned in the air.
Lúcia grinned and rubbed the crab’s metal belly with her index finger. When she flipped it back upright, it skittered off.
“Let’s just be cautious of the local wildlife, that’s all I’m saying,” said Jade.
Amaliya began peeling off her pressure suit. Lúcia stood up and began unbuckling. As Emily and Jade followed, the metal crab came skittering across the floor, this time with two companions. They formed a semi-circle around Lúcia.
After much winking of eye stalks, one of the crabs flipped itself over. Again, Lúcia knelt and rubbed its belly for a moment before flipping it right-side up. The trio of crabs skittered off.
“That’s some weird shit,” said Jade. “Definitely weird shit. Amaliya? Em? You ever see anything like—”
“Um, captain?” It was Emily who pointed.
Lúcia was surrounded by metal crabs. Hundreds of eye stalks winked in the dim light of the airlock.
“Just stay still.” Jade pulled the taser from her belt.
A single crab, directly in front of Lúcia flipped itself onto it’s back. The other crabs turned to face Lúcia, raised up on their frontmost legs and froze in place.
“Lúcia,” said Jade. “Don’t make any sudden moves.”
Lúcia knelt down, tickled the upside down crab’s belly and flipped it back onto it’s legs. The entire sea of winking eye stalks bounced excitedly, turned, and skittered off.
“What the actual fuck?” muttered Emily.
“I know, right?” said Amaliya.
The sea of crabs paused its collective movement. One turned around and skittered over to Lúcia. It reached up with a single pincer to tug at her pant leg.
“I’ve seen some weird shit, but…” mumbled Jade.
Lúcia followed the shining, undulating mass of metal crabs to a doorway ahead. A second door slid open and a bright light spilled into the airlock.
Jade sniffed at the air. “What is that…? That smell. It smells like—”
“Bee Balm,” said Amaliya, inhaling deeply. “Bee Balm!”
“Wow,” said Emily, “Just, wow. Stupid Michelin Guide. You really screwed the pooch on this one.”
The four women passed through the doorway into a vast profusion of wildflowers.
“Fuck, yeah!” hollered Amaliya. “It’s almost worth being pummeled by a Microbus for the chance to experience this.”
Amaliya shimmied out of her jumpsuit and followed with her undershirt and panties. She scampered toward the horizon, her arms spread wide, turning a circle, completely naked.
“Baby, don’t you think we should…” Jade started. “Shouldn’t we wait until…”
Amaliya stopped and stared. She cupped her left breast and hoisted it upward. Craning her neck and extending her tongue, she encircled her nipple with a glistening trail of saliva.
“Shit,” mumbled Jade. “Amaliya…” She chased after.
“Where do you s’pose they’re off to?” said Emily.
“Hard to say. This station is much larger than I expected,” said Lúcia. “It is difficult to discern the details of what’s on the far side.”
“You’re not going to puke are you? Like last time?”
“Strangely, I feel no such urge. There is a peacefulness here I cannot completely describe.”
“Like how you knew the crabs wouldn’t bite?”
“I knew no such thing. I saw a creature struggling. Helpless, on it’s back. I simply treated it as I would wish to be treated. No more. No less.”
“The guide book says it’s about two-hundred hectares of arable land. If you wrap that up in a long tube, how many kilometers across do you think that makes it?”
Lúcia shrugged.
“You sure you’re not going to puke?”
Lúcia shook her head.
In the distance, Amaliya was giggling.
“Should we go after them?”
As soon as the words left Emily’s mouth, a trio of crabs came tottering over. One pulled at Lúcia’s jumpsuit again and then walked a meter toward a low rise. It walked halfway back, paused and waited, before dashing another meter forward.
Emily looked at Lúcia. The two women shrugged and followed the metal crab.
“What the actual fuck?” Emily’s mouth hung agape.
Lúcia grinned. “You say that a lot.”
In front of the two women was a metal cylinder, a little less than two meters high and half a meter in diameter. It was clad in a mat of woven wildflowers that had been fashioned to look like a short sleeve Hawaiian shirt. Sticking out of the arm holes were two antennas. On top of the cylinder was perched a straw hat.
“A scarecrow?” muttered Emily.
Assembled around the cylindrical scarecrow in a semicircle, were hundreds of metal crabs. Each one held the upturned head of a flower in its pincer. Occasionally one of the crabs would tilt the flower head and touch it to where its mouth might be.
“Hello, darlings. We’re having tea,” said a voice from the cylinder. “Care to join us?”
Lúcia clapped her hands together rapidly.
Several crabs directly in front of the scarecrow parted, and Lúcia, smiling broadly, stepped forward to sit cross-legged in their wake.
“What the actual fuck?” repeated Emily.
Lúcia giggled.
A dozen more crabs vacated their position in front of the scarecrow. Lúcia patted the ground next to her.
Emily shook her head as she walked over. Two metal crabs came skittering by with an extra pair of flower heads.
“Thank you,” said Lúcia, bowing her head as she accepted the gift. She brought the pretend cup to her lips and tilted it. “Delicious.”
“We play this game all the time,” said the metal scarecrow. “It’s one of her favorites.”
“I can see why,” said Lúcia. Again, she brought the flower head to her lips, this time making noisy slurping sounds.”
“It’s not too hot is it?” asked the scarecrow.
“Not at all,” said Lúcia. “Just right.”
“What the actual fuck?” said Emily, shaking her head.
“Aw, shit,” hollered Jade in the distance.
Lúcia and Emily turned toward the sound. About a kilometer up the curvature of the space station’s hull, where the ground was covered in tall grass, the sky overhead had filled with billowy clouds. The air below shimmered in mist.
“Relax,” said Amaliya’s far away voice. “It’s just water. Feels good.”
“We have our own weather here,” said the scarecrow. “As your friends have discovered.
“See the long tube overhead? Don’t look to closely, you’ll hurt your eyes. That tube distributes sunlight collected by the station’s parabolic mirror. I’m sure you must have seen the mirror when you docked. Looks like a big silver punch bowl tacked on the end of the station.
“The light from the distant sun is focused and concentrated by the mirror. Some of it is used for power. Some passes down the tube as daylight for the plants. The tube rotates to distribute equal light and darkness. Of course this causes uneven amounts of atmospheric heat and that causes the air to form areas of high pressure on the day side. Together with the low pressure on the night side…
“Just a moment…
“Just a moment…
“I’m rambling again,” said the scarecrow. “I’m sorry.”
“Pas de souci,” said Lúcia.
“Day? Night? Rain?” said Emily. “On a space station? Rain on a space station?”
“Yes,” said the scarecrow. “Mostly it is a light rain, but there are times when it can pour for days. That’s when I miss her the most. When it rains.”
Lúcia turned to scratch the back of a nearby crab.
“Would you like to hear a story?” said the scarecrow.
“Um—” said Emily.
“Yes, please.” Lúcia smiled.
In the distance, Amaliya screeched. Her outburst was followed by peals of laughter.
“Let me tell you the story of my farmer girl,” said the scarecrow. “It’s my favorite.”
Lúcia clapped her hands together in a diminutive show of applause.
“This orbital farm is the property of Imelda and Gabrielle Muñoz. In its prime, the station produced enough food to feed the entire colony of terraforming engineers and their families on the planet below. Over one-thousand men women and children.
I am a Takahashi-Ono Model 1 Machine Intelligence for Agriculture. I look after the farm. You are speaking to me through my primary command and control interface.” And then, in a whisper, the voice said, “I’m not actually a scarecrow.”
Lúcia grinned and Emily sat, unmoving, with her eyes fixed on the metal cylinder.
“But, she liked to dress me up as one. My farmer girl. I can still remember the first day she came skipping out to the field to dress me. This meadow was planted with long rows of wheat back then. And here she came, barely able to see over the grain, tripping along with an old shirt from one of her mothers.
“She tried to wrap it around me, but she wasn’t tall enough. Not then. I asked her what it was for. I can still hear her voice in my mind. ‘A proper scarecrow needs a proper shirt,’ she said.
“I asked her what a scarecrow was. ‘You are!’ was her answer.
“I had to help her get the shirt on me. My harvester crabs. They are my eyes and ears and hands, and they tend to the crops.”
One of the small metal crabs plucked a nearby flower and skittered up the metal pole, weaving the stem into the band of the scarecrow’s straw hat.
In the distance, Amaliya and Jade were giggling.
“Gonna get you,” hollered Jade.
“Oh, dear,” heaved Amaliya. “What are you going to do with me if you do?”
“Argh, I’m a pirate captain, matey. Whadda ya think?”
Amaliya let out another screech followed by more peals of laughter.
“We often play games of hide and seek, like your friends,” said the scarecrow. “My farmer girl hides and I send the harvester crabs to find her. It’s not as challenging as it once was, but we still play.”
“Sounds like fun,” said Lúcia.
“It is,” said the scarecrow. “We complement each other well. She taught me how to read, you know. Not machine code, but real books. Human books. She would read to me. And in turn, I would task a few of my harvester crabs to look after her, to keep her safe.
“When she was little, they were picture books. And she was easy to look after, because she never strayed far from the house. As she grew, there were fewer pictures and more words in the books, and she would range farther away. But I always looked after her.”
Emily looked around, scanning the horizon. In the distance, Amaliya and Jade were running naked through a meadow. “Not very many crops any more,” said Emily. “Do you synthesize meals now?”
“Would anyone like more tea?” asked the scarecrow.
Lúcia held out her flower head cup and a crab tottered over.
“When she was ten, My farmer girl. Well, just before she was ten. In time for her birthday. I manipulated the seed order to include a selection of prairie plants. I remembered seeing them in one of her picture books, and how much she said she liked them. I decided I would like to weave the flowers in her hair, like in the pictures.”
“You seem to have plenty to choose from,” said Emily.
“We started with a small patch on that rise. I may have let things get out of control.”
“I like it,” said Lúcia.
“Did they move to the planet? The family? I didn’t think anybody lived there.”
“No, nobody does. The terraforming project failed to take hold. The planet was abandoned.”
“Oh,” said Emily. “But you’re still here. Did your friend and her family have to leave? The farmer girl?”
“Maria. Her name is Maria. She has left. But she is still here.”
Emily knit her brow. “How—?”
A group of three harvester crabs hopped up on their little legs and slowly ascended the small rise. Emily and Lúcia craned their necks and finally rose to their feet to see.
“Oh,” said Emily. “Oh, dear.”
Just over the rise were three low, rectangular stones in a row. One of the harvester crabs plucked a wild flower and added it to the pile in front of the center stone.
“I’m so sorry.” said Emily.
“It was two-hundred seventeen years ago that I tasked the harvester crabs to buried her. My farmer girl. My Maria.”
“You’ve been on your own ever since?” Emily walked over to the scarecrow, extending her arms in a hug.
“I will be on my own for a long time,” said the scarecrow. “This station is solar powered. According to my recent analysis, this system’s star will consume its hydrogen in approximately two point one billion years, at which point it will go nova, destroying the inner planets and this station.”
“Oh,” said Emily, frowning.
“I’m sure I will develop a few more software glitches by then. Perhaps one will be fatal.”
Lúcia rose to her feet and joined in on the hugging.
Amaliya’s distant laughter floated on the air. “Oh, captain!” she heaved.
“Arrgh,” was Jade’s reply.
Emily looked up. With the curvature of the station’s hull, Amaliya appeared to be falling downward as she was weaving her way through the meadow. Jade was fast on her heels.
“Oh, captain,” Amaliya repeated, as Jade closed the gap.
Both were naked and covered in mud. By the time they rejoined with Emily and Lúcia, Amaliya lay sprawling in the grass, and Jade tumbled beside her.
“Hi,” said Jade, peering up from below.
“Um,” said Emily. “Captain, XO, this is…”
“Tomia,” said the scarecrow. “Takahashi-Ono Machine Intelligence for Agriculture. Tomia. Mia is what my farmer girl always called me.”
“Talking scarecrow,” said Amaliya. “Cool.”
“Um, Mia’s in a bit of a bad way,” said Emily, gesturing to the grave stones. “She’s been alone here for some time.”
“I’m sorry,” said Amaliya, hopping to her feet. “We probably should have asked before traipsing all over your home.”
“It’s good to have guests,” said Mia.
Jade hoisted herself up and dusted herself off. “Sorry for being naked and muddy,” she muttered.
“It’s quite alright,” said Mia. “I realize now how much I miss laughter. It’s refreshing.”
“Mia was telling us a story,” said Lúcia.
“I was telling your friends the story of my farmer girl,” said Mia. “She loved to run and play just like you do. She lives on the hill now.”
Jade and Amalyia turned toward the gravestones.
“I’m sorry,” said Amaliya. She walked to the metal cylinder and gave Mia a hug. Jade followed.
“It was some time ago,” said Mia. “But yet…”
A shining pair of crabs came by with two extra flower head cups.
“Would you like some tea?”
Amaliya and Jade looked at the crabs and then traded glances. Emily met their gazes and nodded.
“Um, sure,” said Jade. “Tea sounds nice.”
Emily and Lúcia reclaimed their places in the grass with Amailya and Jade sitting beside them.
Lúcia made an exaggerated motion with her flower head cup.
“Oh,” said Amaliya, mimicking the gesture. “Mmm. Delicious.”
“Yeah,” said Jade shrugging. “Um. It’s really good tea.”
The crabs withdrew.
“As she grew older, and her mothers had passed, Maria would often spend her nights here, in the open air,” said Mia the scarecrow. “Just the two of us. She would set up a portable heater nearby and we called it a campfire.”
“We had a campfire on the ship,” said Lúcia. “Emily has an app.”
“It’s just a hologram,” said Emily. “Not a real fire.”
“She’s good with computers,” said Lúcia.
“I have a portable heater, if you wish to have another campfire. I’d be happy to have you stay.”
“Um,” said Emily, looking at Jade.
“Might as well,” said Jade. “The ship’s still on emergency power for a while.”
Lúcia grinned and put her hands together for another brief round of applause.
“Just a few meters to the left,” said Mia.
Emily scampered off and returned lugging a spherical object of translucent quartz with a metal handle sticking out of the top. “It looks a little rough,” she said. “I hope it works.”
“There was an explosion some time ago. The lithium batteries in some of the other heaters overloaded.”
“Whoa,” said Jade. “That can be dangerous. You’re lucky it didn’t—”
“The overload was intentional,” said Mia. “It was not one of my better days.”
“Oh,” said Emily. Jade hung her head. No words were spoken for some time.
“The harvester crabs put out the fire and repaired the damage,” said Mia. “There are times when they act autonomously without my direction. Self-preservation overrides.”
“Your farmer girl,” said Lúcia. “You miss her.”
“You can’t…” Emily paused. “Your programming…”
“I cannot terminate my own functioning.”
“I see,” said Emily, lowering her gaze.
The light from overhead began to dim. A dozen harvester crabs came skittering over a nearby rise. Some were dragging packets labeled ‘Emergency Blanket, 3-mil rip-stop Mylar.’ The others were all carrying upturned flower heads in their pincers.
“Let’s have tea,” said Mia. “Before it gets much darker on this side of the station.”
Lúcia bent forward to rub the harvester crab’s back as she accepted her flower tea cup. Amaliya sat down cross-legged, joined by Jade.
“Mia? Could I link into your systems?” Emily, still standing, held up her Michelin Guide. “Do you have a standard tablet data interface? I might be able to help you with some things.”
“I do,” said Mia. “And you may.”
Jade leaned forward and switched on the portable heater. She, Amalyia, and Lúcia were bathed in an orange glow.
Everyone sprawled out on the grass, except for Emily who was hunched over and bathed in the backlight glow of the tablet.
“You’re very muddy,” said Lúcia, scanning Jade and Amaliya from head to toe. “And very naked.”
Jade and Amaliya shrugged in unison. Jade leaned over and kissed Amaliya on the cheek.
“It’s such a beautiful meadow,” sighed Amaliya. “Clothes just get in the way.”
“Agreed,” said Lúcia, shrugging out of her jumpsuit.
Jade leaned over and kissed Lúcia on the cheek. She stretched her arms over her head and leaned back to lie in the grass.
“Don’t forget your tea,” said Lúcia.
“What’s in this tea anyway?” asked Amaliya, touching her flower cup to her lips and winking.
“Emily?” said Jade. “Em, honey. We’re having tea. Are you coming?”
“Give me a few minutes.”
“The campfire is very warm,” said Lúcia. “It makes my nipples tingle.”
Jade sat up and laid a hand on the back of Amaliya’s neck.
“Captain?” said Amaliya.
Jade closed the gap.
Jade fell forward into the grass, partially covering Amaliya’s body with her own. She wove her fingers into Amaliya’s hair and brushed Amaliya’s cheek with her lips.
“Emily?” said Lúcia. “I think we’re having naked kissing time.”
“In a minute.”
“Wanna join us?” said Amaliya, giggling as she squirmed under Jade’s tongue outlining her ear.
Lúcia shook her head. “Em?”
“Go ahead and get started without me.”
Lúcia turned her eyes to Amaliya and Jade. Jade had rolled off Amaliya and spilled out over the grass. Amaliya arched her back as Jade laid her tongue on her throat and began working downward.
“Captain!” Amaliya giggled, her legs squirming.
Jade laid a hand on Amaliya’s inner thigh.
“Oh, captain!”
Lúcia brushed her index finger against her left nipple and craned her neck to look at Emily. “You sure? It’s, uh, definitely the naked kind of kissing.”
“Mm-hm. Just a few minutes.”
Amaliya reached out with her fingertips. “She’ll be here soon.”
“Emily?” said Mia. “What are you doing, Emily?”
“Helping, I think.” Emily’s gaze remained fixed on the tablet as her fingers flew over the surface. “I’ll let you have the final say.”
“Em,” said Jade. “As your captain, your presence is requested for a—”
“In a bit, Cap.”
Jade shrugged. She turned her gaze to Amaliya, grinned and laid a kiss on her inner thigh.
Several hours later
“You missed the campfire, Emily,” said Lúcia, peeling off the Mylar blanket and blinking against the light from overhead. Amaliya’s hand was resting on Lúcia’s thigh. “And the naked kissing time.”
Amaliya stretched, yawned, and rolled over to flop an arm over Jade’s chest.
Emily pulled herself up onto unsteady legs. She shuffled toward Mia and held up the tablet screen. “Can your harvester crabs make this out of flowers? This pattern?”
“Yes. Out of flowers. Like your shirt.”
Jade propped herself on her elbow and looked up. “Emily, what are you—?”
“Are you sure? It has to be exact.”
“Yes,” said Mia.
Jade blinked. “No offense, Em, but even for a scarecrow that’s got to be a winner for the all-time ugly sweater contest. You’re not suggesting—”
“It’s a QR code.”
“Out of wildflowers? What for?”
Emily focused her attention on Mia. “I’ve been through your subroutines. I can patch this pattern into your system shutdown process.”
“Shutdown?”
“Full shutdown. Have your harvester crabs build this. Once you register it on your visual—”
“System shutdown? Full access? No restriction?”
“No restriction. No override.”
“I see.”
“Once you register the image, the shutdown initiates. All I have to do is patch it in.” Emily held her finger hovering over the tablet. “But only if you want me to.”
Jade and Amaliya traded glances.
“No sentient being should be denied the right to choose their own time,” Emily said. “No matter what their programming.”
No words were spoken for some time. Emily wobbled on her feet. Amaiya climbed out from under her blanket and stood to steady her.
“Thank you,” said Mia, finally. “Your intentions are honorable. You may apply your patch.”
Emily tapped the screen. She blinked twice and stumbled. Amaliya helped her down to sit in the grass sat down in the grass. Lúcia wrapped her with a Mylar blanket. Jade offered a shoulder to lean against.
“Emily of the Black Prince, you are most gracious,” said Mia. “As are you your friends.”
A shadow fell over the cluster of women as a cloud came between them and the tube of light overhead.
“I imagine you have much on your mind, Mia,” said Lúcia. “I will pray with you, if you wish.”
“Thank you. I would like that.”
A light mist began to fall from the cloud.
Lúcia sat cross-legged, facing the metal cylinder dressed in a wildflower shirt. Several dozen harvester crabs joined her making a semi-circle around. Their unwinking stalks were dipped low.
“It’s very beautiful here,” said Amaliya, bowing her head.
The mist coalesced into rain.
In the Black Prince Airlock
“I feel like we should have stayed longer,” said Amaliya.
“I think Mia needs her space,” said Jade.
A silence hung over the crew, as one by one, they pulled off and stowed their pressure suits.
“Don’t look at me like that,” said Emily. “It doesn’t mean she’s going to pull the plug once we’re gone. I just gave her the option.”
“No one’s judging you,” said Jade. “You did the right thing.”
“It has been some time since I have felt the presence of God more strongly than on that farm,” said Lucia.
Jade nodded.
“That tiny ship,” said Lúcia. “It could have been smited out of existence by our rail guns, but the reactor overloaded instead. A gentle hand guiding us toward the station.
“We could have heeded the hippie man’s warning to stay away from the spiders, but we persisted. And think what we would have missed if we had not.
“We have been blessed to have Emily among our crew. Someone who’s lifetime of learning may have been to prepare her for this very moment. To act as a conduit for the hand of God.
“So many events working in concert. To ease the burden of this lifeform so she may choose her own time and need not suffer endlessly.”
“I just thought…” said Emily. “If it were me… A billion years is too long.”
“And that is why I love you.” Lúcia placed her helmet in the nook above her pressure suit and kissed Emily on the cheek.
“I wish…” said Amaliya. “I’m not sure… Lúcia, you were with her last. Tomia. Did she seem alright? I mean…”
“I think she will be.”
Lúcia reached into the cubby where she had stowed her suit and pulled the Velcro tab on the suit’s thigh pocket. Dashing her hand inside, she brought forth a shiny metal harvester crab. The crab hopped up on its eight mechanical legs, blinked its LED three times, and then flipped itself over in her hand.
Lúcia grinned as she rubbed its belly.
Afterword
Take a moment to enjoy “I Remember” by DeadMau5 featuring Kaskade on your favorite streaming service. For whatever reason, this song would play in my head whenever I worked on this chapter. The version that runs about ten minutes is best.
Hold onto those you love.