Go To Cargo Hold

Aside from the occasional Caretaker, the halls of Unity are abandoned this time of night. You keep a sharp eye on the Caretakers, half expecting them to jump you. Did they ever sleep? You wondered.

Jellies slept. Or rather, they had periods of inactivity during the depths of the night. Ship minds were human, so they needed to sleep, although many of them suppressed the need with constant drips of drugs. Not a recommended practice, but common enough it was tolerated, if not encouraged, by doctors. You suppose it’s possible, then—maybe even likely—that the mind at the heart of Unity also sleeps. Maybe that’s why it’s not more clear on what happened to Umesh at three in the morning.

Or maybe it just enjoys screwing with us, you think.

There are two Marines in exos stationed outside the hold. Neither of them have weapons, but the exos are plenty dangerous all on their own.

Normally battle bots would have been put on watch instead of actual humans, but then, the whole concept of battle bots sorta violated the no weapons rule on Unity. Of course, there wasn’t that much difference between some of the loader bots and some of the combat equipped bots. A few more layers of armor, couple of blasters, that was about it. . . . The ban on weapons is probably a lot more lax than Navárez had anticipated when she made it. Still, it keeps out the guns, and that was the main goal.

You have clearance, so the Marines wave you through. The doors to the hold are tall and wide, like the doors to an old-world cathedral. You can’t help but gawk a little as they swing open.

Inside, the hold is vast and somewhat cold. At the far end of the hold are a line of airlocks sized to fit human ships. To either side are huge rows of modular shelving, dark and mysterious in the dim light of station night. A couple of loader bots move among them, their small orange safety lights the only real evidence of their presence. The air has a hint of humidity, and it feels fresh and crisp.

You pull your jacket tighter. The hold would take hours to search on foot. There has to be a faster way. . . .