Hidden Observer
This is chapter seven, have you read chapter one yet?
Bastien patted his belly. “Well, you did it again, Carlos my friend. Haven’t had spaghetti that good, like, ever.”
Simonee looked down at her own bowl, dipped in a finger and licked away the last of her sauce—it really was good.
“Hey Carlos, you mind if I take away some of the leftovers?” Bastien asked.
He always took leftovers.
Carlos grinned, “Of course, amigo!”
And he always said that.
It was just the three of them—a whole week gone and neither Estrella nor Mariem showed up to the table.
She would end up taking a plate to Mariem’s room—never going in, just a knock, a scowl, she’d grin, Mariem wouldn’t, and the door would close.
That was fine, she had somewhere else to be tonight—she just needed an opening.
She cleared her throat, “Hey, Bastien, remember that thing you asked me, about your ship?”
His face lit up and he turned to Carlos—hook.
“Yeah, that’s right—been meaning to ask you—I’ve got this problem with one of my passive-gravity plates, Simonee said you might have the answer.”
Carlos flinched back. “Sure, what’s the problem?”
Line.
Bastien chopped his hands on the table. “So, you step onto this one panel, and everything seems fine, but then—bam!” He clapped. “You’re falling to one side or the other. It’s not a big deal but I damn near twisted my ankle on the thing and I want to give it a look before bothering Sonny about when we get to CB9.”
Carlos winced. “Ooh, aún peor. Sounds like the crystal matrix shifted.” He leaned in as he filled his glass with Chianti. “Do you have a tensor dampening chuck spanner in your toolkit?”
Bastien cocked his head. “I think so.”
“Well, those are exotic matter crystals, I wouldn’t crack it open without a tensor dampener. You don’t get that negative energy field tamped down and—oof—no bueno. You know how that works right?”
Bastien nodded. “Sure...” He shook his head. “Well, no, not a clue.”
Carlos hunched over the table. “Well, let me tell you—”
Sinker
“Hey, I’m going to take a plate to Mariem, need me to help clear the table?” She interrupted.
Carlos waved her off. “De nada, nena. You take care of Mariem; I’ll clean up here. Anyway, so you’ve got Newton...”
While Carlos dove into the history of gravity, she plated a heap of noodles and ducked out. She had a good two hours now.
Knock, scowl, grin—Mariem’s door closed.
Simonee went to the Cargo bay.
And it was empty, which was to be expected. There were only five people between two ships and two of them were in the galley talking about gravity.
Six people. That construct was a person... why hadn’t that occurred to her?
She slipped into the tube between ships and the Crafthopper’s airlock door was shut. She worked the release lever—locked.
But she’d been planning this all week.
Pulling her smartcomm, she woke up her agents with a subvocal intonation. “SaltySquid, what’s the status on intership command sync?”
[SaltySquid] Stuck on limited authorization, need direct network access to elevate permissions. Interlock permissions provide limited propulsion and, fortunately for you, airlock door access. Just say Open Sesame. 👳♂️
“Do I have to?”
[SaltySquid] 🤷 You wrote me.
“Fine, open sesame.”
Klang! The door latch released. The door rolled open—loud.
Simonee cringed. “KeenKite, what do you have on wireless access?”
[KeenKite] Shielding clear on internal networks. Passphrase on guest, two secure networks, one named... Darla? Stick your smartcomm in, let me get a signal map on cameras.
She inched into the opening and reached her smartcomm inside. Meters and graphs shifted on the screen.
[KeenKite] Good, got the landscape. One camera by the door, motion activated but not transmitting—must be angled on the corridor. 64 qubit encryption—got a password?
“Darla?”
[KeenKite] Nope.
She sighed. “Cartoonsexual?”
[KeenKite] Not gonna ask, but we’re in. Got the camera. Got the next camera, but... Some of the sensors are pinging the Darla network. Want to attack that next?
She shook her head—why would Bastien’s AI girlfriend have her own sensor network?
[KeenKite] Boss?
“No, leave it alone—just an entertainment app, probably on standby.”
[KeenKite] Sure thing, corridor is clear, I’ll set traps on the cams in case you’re followed.
She stepped inside—nothing happened.
“Alright, SaltySquid, close sesame.”
The hatch clanged shut behind her.
At the gravity break, she peered over the cliff. How had she done this again?
Just act like a dork remember?
Arms out, she closed her eyes, and wide-stepped like she was hopping a crate. When the fall came, she leaned into it and—
Flailed. Her stomach lurched over the null gravity at the apex and her knees buckled. But she rolled into it and collapsed onto the deck of the Crafthopper, sprawled out, clutching the lip. But gravity had her back—she stood.
Now, where was that ladder?
“Map?” She whispered.
KeenKite delivered one straight to her implant.
The upper deck was completely dark but for weak running lights along the base of the wall. She turned away from the cockpit and crept down the corridor until she hit the two hatches at the end.
Which one though—left or right? She closed her eyes. The passcode for the door was 90955, the construct’s number. Bastien entered it using his left hand which was hand... away from her.
She faced the door on the right, and entered the code.
The door slid open—but Simonee stayed put.
The lights were low, pale amber with pockets of blinking blue and green from the med-monitor by the bed. 90955 was laying there—watching.
Bright green eyes staring—Emerald 42. And Simonee hadn’t planned this part.
She lifted her hand and waved.
The construc—the girl waved back—jerky—and the hand fell.
Simonee stepped inside.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m... I’m Simonee, we met before... sorta”
The girl just blinked.
“I... I wanted to see you. I... I wanted to see how you were.”
The girl opened and closed her mouth. Then she shifted, and propped herself onto her elbow. She slipped back down.
Without thought, Simonee rushed over—hand under, arm over, lifting until the girl was sitting.
Hands clutching the end of her bunk, the girl’s arms shook, shoulders hunched—so weak.
What was wrong with her? Was Bastien even taking care of her?
The girl looked up at her—eyes watery but bright and locked.
But Simonee couldn’t say another word. What could she? What did she want out of this?
And the girl blinked, glancing at the bed.
Right, get to the point.
“I... do you... do you recognize me?”
The girl blinked again.
“Bad question. Okay, I’m not doing this right. I—I wanted to see you because, well... I’m like you. I’m...”
The girl blinked again, but shifted and a hand came up—Simonee caught it, then the other. And the girl tried to stand.
“Whoa! Hey, easy.” Simonee tugged, guided—stepped back.
The girl was shaking all over, but she stood, head cocked.
Simonee’s whole face seemed to pull back on itself. “Hey there, little sis—ter.” The words stuck on the way out.
And backfired up into her eyes.
The girl lifted a wavering hand, and touched her cheek, her nose, then reached.
Simonee flinched back—hesitated—but leaned into her touch. The girl’s hand was cold, but soft on her face, chin, then one soft fingertip tapped her nose.
Simonee’s chest shuddered. “Yes... same.”
The blooming recognition in this girl’s eyes was the thing she didn’t know she was looking for. When the girl’s lips twitched up, it hit her in the chest.
“I’m—” Her voice cracked. “A long time ago, I used to be, 70371—before you were made.”
90955’s smile pulled big. Simonee blinked, and dabbed her eyes on her sleeve.
But when she looked again, the girl’s smile was wrong: her lips pulled against her teeth and her eyes bulged, rolling back.
“Hey, hey—” Simonee caught her as she sagged into her—”What’s wrong?”
The smile pulled up tight and full into a rictus grin, and her eyes rolled up completely—no more green.
Simonee clutched, and grabbed as the girl’s arms curled inwards, hands clenching into claws—body convulsing.
Shit—another seizure.
She glanced about for one of the syringes Bastien used, but it was too dark, and she couldn’t let go of the girl. She dragged her up against the bunk but couldn’t get her back into it—her body locked like a board.
Then the girl’s left leg kicked at the base of the bed—one, two, three—and her left side sagged, face drooping.
But her eyes rolled forward—locked onto Simonee’s. One claw-hand grabbed Simonee’s arm—tight as a vice—and the other pounded against her leg—one, two, three. The tempo of the kick, the pound, the grind of the girl’s teeth put ice in Simonee’s belly and a tingle in her groin.
Then the girl spoke—not the voice Simonee expected.
It fought its way out—croaking, gagging—into words. “Se-ven zee-roh threeee sev-ennn one. The lossssst daught-er.”
Blood dripped from a chomped lip—teeth not minding where it sagged.
Simonee simply couldn’t move.
“Beee-ware the can-can-cannibal. Join but do not be had.”
And it was over—the girl’s whole body sagged to the floor and Simonee went with her, cradling her head.
“You okay?” She asked. “Hey—”
But the girl’s eyes stared forward without focus, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Wow, she’s never done that before,” said a voice from the door.
Simonee glanced over her shoulder—Bastien stood in the doorway holding a clear container with leftover spaghetti.
“How... help.”
Bastien put down the leftovers and rushed to the med-monitor. He tapped around the screen and sighed.
“The seizure’s over, but she’s catatonic.” He crouched beside them. “Damnit, bit her lip again—here.”
He grabbed under and helped Simonee lift her into the bunk. He pulled up a blanket and tucked her in.
With that, her eyes flickered closed.
Bastien turned to her, and she crossed her arms—back-stepped toward the hatch.
She looked at his feet. “I’m—I’m sorry.”
“Unn, yeah—so, Darla called me up a bit ago and said you were snooping around. She was curious what you were up to, but took out your agents once you were through.”
So, not just for entertainment purposes.
“I—I... I know what this looks like—”
Bastien laughed. “That makes one of us. How about you tell me what it’s supposed to look like, because I know you weren’t trying to kidnap my guest here.”
“No, no... but... I—I’m sorry. I don’t know... I don’t think I can.”
Bastien nodded once. “Right—doesn’t happen to have anything to do with why she called you seven-zero-three-seven-one, does it? Sounds a bit like a construct unit number.”
Her mouth dropped. “I—I just wanted to see her.”
“Yep.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Okay, now, seeing as you hacked my airlock, snuck onto my ship, and disabled my cameras, I feel as though you owe me a full explanation.” He jerked his head toward the hatch. “But I’m not one for conflict, so you can leave right now and I’ll just file a grievance—won’t do much but certainly won’t make the next few months very comfortable at dinner time.”
His eyes drifted to the girl on the bunk. “And you’ll have to hack your way back in here if you ever want to see her again.”
She leaned toward the hatch, glanced at it—glanced at 90955.
A grin pulled up his face. “Come on, I don’t bite. The truth solves a lot you know.”
Her jaw worked and her hands found each other, squeezing. But her mind was blank—it wouldn’t give her a story to get out of this.
“Uh-huh,” Bastien sighed. “So let’s work out a trade then—secret for a secret.”
She flinched. “What?”
“Yeah, what we need is a... personal exchange in order to build us a friendship. If I’m going to forgive this little foray into my personal space, then we’ve gotta be friends—right?”
Her head tilted and her hands let each other go. “What did you have in mind?”
“I think we can both agree that you’ve got a pretty big secret you’re trying hard not to let go of. And I think I know what it is.”
The knot in her stomach tightened. “And what secret do you think I have?”
“Well, Darla and I made a little wager, actually. She swore that this here construct was a dead ringer for your image on the feed, and I was like, naw, Simonee Saran? A construct?” He glanced at the girl and then back to Simonee. “And now I wish I’d made a cheaper bet. So, give it up, you’re a construct aren’t you?”
She glanced at the door again—but he had her now. A man with a link to SynBio knew she didn’t belong out here, and he’d caught her breaking and entering.
Then her eyes settled on the girl, and she swallowed—breathed. When she nodded, the knot in her belly unraveled.
He slapped his leg and his laugh pulled her glance. “Well, I’ll be. You are a most interesting individual, Simonee Saran. I cannot wait to hear that story.”
She swallowed again. “Okay, there you have it.” She jutted her chin at him. “Your turn—secret for a secret.”
His grin sagged, and his adam’s apple jumped. “Yeah, well—mine’s more of a show and tell. Follow me.”
He pulled away from the wall and grabbed his leftovers. “It’s dinner time.”
New to Simonee’s story? The Cannibal of Cloud Ball 9 is Book Two of The Girl with the Cybernetic Eye. Book One—The Ice Princess of Enceladus Station—is complete and free to read. Start here.