"I want to play twenty minutes more!" Sev stomped and pouted.

　　"You said that twenty minutes ago," I replied from the threshold of his room.

　　Buying a personal entertainment center had turned out to be a mistake. Based on the research I had done, getting one was supposed to increased happiness while also reducing child stress and supposedly helping with synapse development and logic acquisition. From what I had seen, it had only resulted in making him testy and more difficult to control.

　　"Then I want twenty more!" Sev snapped, not even looking in my direction.

　　"Twenty minutes is a long time." Far longer for me than you.

　　"You can`t even make supper in twenty minutes!"

　　That was due to other factors, and he knew it. This was just another case of him being rebellious—a normal part of growing up, it was said, although every person I had spoken to had said they hadn`t been prepared for it.

　　"If I return in twenty minutes, will you have finished?"

　　"Don`t know. Maybe." He tried to act annoyed, but I saw a change in behavior. For one thing, he wasn`t paying as much attention to the game as he was a moment ago.

　　"All right, I`ll be back." I turned around to leave.

　　"Elcy," I heard behind me. "Will we go for a walk when you get back?" There was a moment`s pause. "It`s been a while&"

　　There was no need to turn around to know he was feeling unhappy. I couldn`t tell why, but I could tell by his voice that he was frightened. A roller-coaster of emotions, that`s what he was said to be going through. Considering how much time had passed since we`d started living here, I`d have thought he would have settled in. Apparently, I was wrong. With humans, some things tended to surface only when the situation calmed down. Either that, or it was because of the age he was in.

　　"Of course," I said, looking at him over my shoulder. "We`ll go to the market and back."

　　"Let`s go now." He ended the game and got up from his bed.

　　"Don`t you want to play more? You have another nineteen minutes."

　　"I`ll continue later. There`s not much I could finish in nineteen minutes." He forced a nervous smile.

　　"All right. Get dressed. I`ll be back in three minutes."

　　"I can go like this," Sev protested.

　　"Get warmer clothes. Cold winds are expected. I don`t want you to get ill."

　　"Fine," he grumbled, even if he agreed with me. Of course, he would never admit it. "Elcy, is twenty minutes really a long time?"

　　"They are for me." He was asking me ship things again. For some reason, his interest in the subject had grown a lot lately. I really hoped that didn`t mean he had any intention of joining the fleet. I had done my best to keep news about the war from reaching him, but it was difficult. Even on a backwater planet, fleet events were picked up more and more by the media, not to mention that people liked to gossip.

　　"I wonder what it feels like. I can`t get anything done in twenty minutes. Maybe if I learned to be more like you, I`d be able to get more done?"

　　"It`s possible," I lied. Without intrusive brain implants, there was no way a human could do nearly as much. "Twenty minutes aren`t enough for you to do anything much, but if you learn not to waste time, you`d be able to do a lot more."

　　"A minute saved is a minute earned?" He laughed, amused by his own joke.

　　"That`s a good way of looking at it." I smiled. Hopefully, you`ll never be in a situation in which twenty minutes would really matter.

　　* * *

　　Twenty minutes&

　　It had taken fourteen for a well-prepared insurrection attempt to spark, attack, be crushed, and classified away. Eleven minutes more, and I woke up on a slab in one of the med rooms. No equipment was visible, no screens, just white walls and a single chair by the door—efficient, though not overly comforting.

　　The instant I woke up, an info burst was streamed to my core, informing me of everything that had transpired since my arrival for a check-up. Sixty-one percent of the events were considerably different from what I remembered. Apparently, a bot malfunction had been responsible for a series of false alarms, and minor damage to the med building. The malfunction was due to human error during the bot`s regular maintenance, long before it had been sent to the Gregorius, and had only become apparent this morning. Seventeen in the facility had been harmed as a result—I among them. Injuries inflicted ranged from minor to serious. There was also a note that due to equipment damage done to the facility a few people had passed away due to complications during scheduled treatment. It was all very neat, uninspiring, and forgettable, just as the bureaucratic apparatus wanted it to be. The most surprising thing of all was that my memories of the incident remained intact& including the tattoo I managed to get a glimpse of.

　　As I tried to sit up, the walls of the room changed color from white to cyan blue. A moment later, the door slid aside and in came the medical droid assistant. She was holding a set of folded purple clothes. Didn`t take a lot of imagination to figure out what that was.

　　"How`s the leg?" she asked with a neutral expression.

　　"Feels fine." There was a constant low sensation of pain, a reminder that the organic part of me wasn`t fully optimal.

　　"You`ll need daily med sessions and a lot of relaxation." She looked at me as if I were a school delinquent leaning next to a candy stall. "Limit your running and jumping for a while. Your diet has also been changed. More proteins and calcium."

　　"Sure." Less than a week, and my calcium levels were as low as before. "How long`s the treatment?"

　　"Half an hour for a week. Two if needed."

　　"That`s a bit much." Considering mostly muscle tissue was affected, recovery was supposed to be shorter.

　　"Foreign nanites were introduced to your system when you got your injury." The android didn`t look away. She had already said more than she was supposed to, and her glance said even more. The attackers had a specific goal in mind and wouldn`t hesitate to kill anyone who prevented them from achieving it. The big question was whether they had managed to succeed or not. On the surface, all seemed well—ship security putting down a group of Scuu puppets—but was it really? Being near Scuu space, there was no way to be sure. "Rest a bit. You`re to have a debriefing in fifteen minutes."

　　Debriefing—the polite way of saying I`d be questioned by security.

　　"Thanks." I knew she wasn`t the one who made the decision. Even so, it didn`t hurt to be nice. "How`s the doc doing?"

　　"Fine, I`d expect." She put my folded uniform at the base of the slab. "He was sent back home on an emergency shuttle. From what I saw, he seemed relieved."

　　I bet he also had signed a stack of fleet NDAs. "At least he could say he saved one person." Although, technically, it was the med bots that had patched up my attacker. Following regulations, though, all credit went to the doctor on shift. "Something to add to his CV for future reference."

　　"There were no survivors," the android said in curt fashion. "Get dressed. Security will be here in fourteen minutes." She left the room.

　　There were two ways to interpret this: either the android had had her memories restricted and changed, or more extreme measures had been taken. Whatever the case, all the loose ends were brushed away, along with all the details. Back when I was a ship, I had been asked hundreds of times to cover things up; when serving under Augustus or Gibraltar, the main principle was the same—nip things in the bud.

　　I unfolded my uniform and put it on. It was identical to the one I had coming in, but I could tell it had been recently made. The material of the trousers felt softer than before and had been coated with a layer of nanites.

　　Incandescent, are any of the ships done with their maintenance? I asked.

　　No response.

　　After several seconds passed, I sat back on the operating table. Lux had restored my access to all artifact-related memories, but there remained a huge temptation to use the memory scalpel. There still was a one-hour blank in my memory of two days ago, right between attack incidents. In theory, I could use the scalpel and no one would even know. The BICEFI had promised to keep anyone from poking my mind, and both the captain and the administrator had more to lose than gain if they did it on their own accord. All the same, there were too many risks involved, especially with all the people watching me. Flight Colonel Nitel, Juul, and now Flight Colonel Cension& all had their sights on me and were looking for an excuse. Things functioned very differently from the Cassandrian front.

　　Back then, everything was much simpler, even with the BICEFI involvement. We`d go on missions, win or lose, then head on the next. Survival was merely playing the odds against a vastly larger enemy. On the Scuu front, every word or action had consequences. There could never be a guarantee if something was influenced by the Scuu, controlled by them, or merely people backstabbing each other when a better opportunity came in sight. The longer I spent here, the fewer people I was able to trust.

　　Closing my eyes, I visualized the inside of one of the third-contact domes I`d seen. In that dome, I created three other virtual zones: one for the fractal artifacts, one for the third-contact script, and one for the Scuu circles. Initial analyses suggested that none of them had anything in common with the rest. They were of different shape, size, and nature. Taken separately, I would have speculated I was looking at four entirely different races, and still they were all connected. The rods were used by the Scuu to power their artifacts, as well as the third-contact domes; the fractal artifacts accessed fractal space, as well as the Scuu network; as for the circles, they were linked to the Scuu network, and at least two people had been under Scuu influence.

　　The circle tattoos on the attackers suggested that the Scuu were somehow linked to the recent attacks, and possibly the suicide waves. Extrapolating from there, they could have been the ones responsible for the wipeout of the previous crew. However, there was one other possible explanation. I focused on my memories of the time in the Scuu Network, particularly the moment I had seen the circles. Those might well have belonged to the Scuu, but they were caused by a third-contact artifact. What if not all artifacts had been taken by the BICEFI? Regulations on the matter were very clear—not even a ship of Gregorius` size and importance could disobey the BICEFI& unless there was another organization involved. I had already seen cores and artifacts abandoned on a planet for being located in a Med Core lab planet. There was a one-point-three percent chance the same thing could be happening here as well.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

　　Removing everything but the circle and the dome from memory, I started a wide comparison. Although it was a long shot, it was possible that the sphere was a two-dimensional representation of the dome, the same way the third-contact script was a representation of the rods. The limited matching algorithm I had to use was a sad reminder of my lack of processing power. My theories had reached the point at which they were starting to get beyond my limit. A few months ago, I had regarded that as a minor annoyance, but now my weakness was starting to put me in danger. I was finally starting to be like a human—both my body and core were unprepared to match the challenges. From here on, I was going to have to be smart and learn to adapt faster.

　　Fifteen minutes on the dot since the android`s warning, the door opened once more. This time, though, there were two people from ship security who entered.

　　"Cadel Light Seeker?" the first one asked. I could tell by his expression that he thought I`d be taller.

　　"Elcy will do." I straightened up in an effort to gain another inch.

　　"Come with us, Cadet." The man smirked.

　　Two more security guards joined us as we walked out. Unlike half an hour ago, the lobby was packed with people—almost exclusively grunts and a few other ship personnel. I attempted to go through their files out of habit, but got an access denied response, along with a friendly reminder that I was not to connect to any system until after my debriefing was over.

　　"Busy night," I said casually. My escort didn`t react.

　　We walked to a transport pod spot, then entered the first pod that arrived. I expected they`d take me to a brig or security center. Instead, the pod made its way to the administration center.

　　"Are we picking up someone else?" I asked.

　　"Get out, Cadet," one of the people said. "Please."

　　Adding a please to make things more sinister. I thought. It was a very common method, and surprisingly effective, considering half the fleet knew about it. In this case, it was mostly a waste of time. Threatening a ship was definitely the wrong approach. If one wanted the threat to be real, they`d threaten the ship`s crew.

　　A single security guard walked me into the admin building, then left without a word. Eight seconds later, a civilian—a low-level intelligence bureaucrat, judging by his suit—walked up to me.

　　"Light Seeker?" he asked.

　　"Yes." I smiled. "And you are?"

　　"Follow me." He ignored the question, then paced towards the back of the building. "Recording the debriefing is strictly forbidden. All your memories after entering the building will be restricted. As part of the ship`s crew, you`ve already given consent. If during the debriefing you have any concerns, you have the right to object during the debriefing. All objections will be evaluated and responded to in due time. Do you understand your rights?"

　　"I`m already aware, sir." I followed.

　　"That saves time."

　　We went to the open elevator in the back, then one floor up. When we got off, the bureaucrat led me to a doorway in the wall.

　　"I`ll be back to fetch you," he grumbled, waiting for me to pass.

　　"I`m sure I`ll appreciate it, sir." I smiled wider. If Augustus were in my place, he`d yell his head off. I, though, preferred Gibraltar`s approach.

　　The room I entered had a single table in the far side, as well as five rows of chairs. A man was sitting in the first row. As he turned around, I made out his face—Flight Colonel Cension.

　　"Sit," he said in a low voice. The moment he did, the doorway behind me disappeared.

　　"Black box meeting, sir?" I asked, making my way to the front row. "I thought they were regulated."

　　"They are. By me." His body language suggested that he wasn`t to be taken lightly, just as his behavior let me know he was smart enough to know his place. Unlike the vast majority of officers I`d dealt with, he appeared to know exactly what it meant to be addressing a battleship. "Give me your timeline of events. The unofficial one."

　　"I`d have thought Gregorius had that information already, sir."

　　"Gregorius is having tech problems." His voice pattern suggested that he was lying. "Until the diagnostic is over, he can`t be relied on." That much was true.

　　"Understood, sir." I went through the memories of the event. "Two suspects were already in place by the time I arrived to the facility. I suspect the majority of the others were in the area as well. I didn`t spot any, but I saw the grunt squad that was attacked doing standard training exercises."

　　"Why did you go there?"

　　"For my obligatory med check, sir. As an unretired, I`m required to—"

　　"Why did you choose that specific time to go there?"

　　"No particular reason, sir." Now it was my turn to lie. "I had been due for quite a while, so I decided to do it before work when things were calmer."

　　"What work?"

　　"I`ve been assigned to bioengineering, sir." As you know perfectly well. "I was there when the other incident happened. You and Juul were there as well."

　　The comment received a reaction. The man`s pupils narrowed slightly. He was quick to realize it as well, for he turned his head around. It was an instinctive reaction, one that he must have gotten used to doing.

　　So, there was an unretired ship on the ship before me.

　　"Permission to speak freely, sir?" I jumped to take advantage of the situation.

　　"Speak."

　　"I think that both incidents are a result of Scuu control. I would speculate that there are Scuu ships or beacons in the vicinity causing such behavior, and based on my simulations, the number of incidents is certain to grow."

　　"Scuu." There was a dry laugh. "Convenient."

　　"I believe that Flight Colonel Nitel and yourself are also of that opinion. As is likely the captain himself."

　　I paused for fifty milliseconds. I could continue this game and see where it leads me, but there were too many unknowns in that approach. He had ample opportunity to shut me down, change the direction of the conversation, or request for me to be removed from the ship. Considering that two other people wanted me gone as well, there was a chance that he would succeed. The time had come to risk it.

　　"I saw a tattoo of a circular pattern on the back of an attacker," I added. "It matches a pattern I saw while I had access to the Scuu network."

　　There it was. Now the Flight Colonel knew that I had retained some of my memories of Mission Orpheus. That meant that the captain would know as well.

　　"Chances are that others had similar tattoos as well." Maybe that`s why you`ve hidden from everyone else.

　　"Cadet," the man said, his back still turned to me. "No one knows shit about what`s going on. One thing`s for certain, it`s not the Scuu." He stood up and walked by the table. "Someone`s trying damn well to make it look like them. Specs crunched the numbers. There`ve been clusterings. Med`s looking, still poking into data."

　　Theoretically that could be possible, though highly unlikely. As a ship, I had heard reports of discontent within human territories, but all those had been minor events. They rarely reached the scale of planets, and even then were quickly resolved by murder troops. The only reason for someone to attempt such an elaborate plan would be if they were insane, or had become contaminated, similar to Rigel.

　　"You think it`s someone from Mission Orpheus." The recent security changes made much more sense.

　　"From any of the missions," the flight colonel replied. "Even the one that rescued me."

　　There had been five missions as far as I was aware, with each having several hundred crew. That left between one and two thousand suspects, assuming that the mastermind hadn`t in turn contaminated the thinking of someone else. Looking back, no one had managed to capture the doctor who had treated me with Agora. From what I had been told, "everyone" had been captured, with some switching sides. However, there was no way for me to be certain.

　　"It could be one of the flight colonels," I said, voicing the unspoken suspicion.

　　"No. We`ve all got mind implants." The man turned around for the first time. For a fraction of a second I saw fear in his glance. "Not the civvies, though." The implication was clear—he was suspecting the bureaucrats. "Any more hints?"

　　"Were all the puppets from the old crew?"

　　There was a long pause.

　　"Yes," he said at last. "Why did the admin call you?"

　　"I don`t know. Because I`m a ship, I suppose. I was told I`d get a clean slate if I joined." There was no point to lie about that. The captain and chief of security already had access to all my information, as required by internal regulations. "Maybe because I`m a ship."

　　"A Cassandrian-front ship," he clarified. "Bringing you here was a ship decision."

　　"You think I`m contaminated."

　　"No." The response surprised me. "But you`re here for something."

　　Anywhere else, I`d have thought nothing of the statement, but here I saw it more part of the pre-madness paranoia that had engulfed the first exploration ships. There, too, it had started with suspicion and discontent.

　　"In both incidents you ran straight to the point of danger." The man turned his back to me again. "Why?"

　　"I`m a battleship. My goal is to save lives."

　　"Your priority`s to save humanity."

　　"Which include lives."

　　"Will you do it again, even if against orders?"

　　"You know I will." What is the point of all this? "You should have access to my full file."

　　There was a dry sound that sounded like a laugh.

　　"Have you spoken to Kridib?" I asked. "Considering he was the one who killed a suspect as she was about to provide information, I think you should. Even if he has a piece of tin in his brain."

　　"The corporal was on special assignment." The answer came with a moment`s delay.

　　You`ve no idea what Kridib`s doing, do you? Cension might have been head of security, but Kridib wasn`t answering to him. Maybe he wasn`t answering to Nitel, either. He had been under the wing of the previous captain; what if now he was directly under Renaan as well?

　　"If you`re armed, would you kill to save the ship?" the Flight Colonel asked all of a sudden.

　　"Yes. Unless the ship threatens the fleet." Didn`t expect that topic shift.

　　"And if it does?"

　　"Then I`d try to destroy it."

　　His body language made it difficult to tell whether that was the answer he was looking for, but he appeared a fraction less tense than a moment ago. The man tapped his fingers on the table, still refusing to look at me.

　　"Soon we`ll be setting off to our destination," he continued. "Then shit will get real. So far, it`s been one big stall game to get the ships ready."

　　I deliberately remained quiet for several seconds, waiting for him to continue.

　　"The order`s been okayed by brass. We`re heading into a fight zone."

　　That much I remembered from the large black box meeting.

　　"Purger protocols have been authorized."

　　That I didn`t. The sudden ship checks, the "diagnostic" that Gregorius was going through, those weren`t scheduled. The ships were being prepared for heavy combat. Whatever additional discussions had been held during the previous meeting, it had convinced the captain and the Administrator to prepare for combat. It had seemed very coincidental that the incidents had happened at exactly the same time. Maybe there were more than Scuu and artifacts at play. With the political situation shifting, there were a number of voices vehemently opposing expansion, even while the war factions were on the rise.

　　According to official records, sabotages occurred at a rate of approximately three per ten thousand ships. The majority of the incidents were minor and caught early, but there had been cases in which it had come to the ship to isolate the captain. With enough political backing and the proper authority, one could even remain hidden from the sensors.

　　"I don`t think I`m suitable for catching ghosts," I said after a while "There`s no guarantee that my thoughts haven`t been quarantined."

　　"You won`t be looking for ghosts. Others are looking into that."

　　"I don`t follow." I tilted my head.

　　"I`m here to tell you not to get involved in anything." Finally, the reason for my visit. "No one can touch you without asking questions, so Cap wants you to know the skinny so you stop looking."

　　"I`ll do my best." No way I`m agreeing to that, even if I wasn`t doing an investigation for Lux.

　　"He said you attract attention." The flight colonel laughed. "Like a fucking magnet. Dismissed."

　　"Understood." I stood up. "One last question if I may, sir."

　　"Yeah, yeah." He made a circular motion with his wrist above his shoulder.

　　"I stopped addressing you as sir for a while. You didn`t correct me once. Why not?"

　　The tension was palpable. I watched him stiffen up, then relax, then stiffen up again. Whatever was going through his head was more complicated than a one-word answer.

　　"Get out of here, cadet." He clenched his fist. "Things that play with fire have a tendency to explode."