I didn’t work the next day, which was a curse and a blessing. I had enjoyed the actual work of being an engineer on Brock Station, so I lamented having to wait until tomorrow to get back to it. On the other hand, I could check out the black box right away. Quickly, I picked up a coffee from the canteen and headed to the Benevolence.

Connecting my tablet to the box, I downloaded the massive pile of data. Video and audio from surveillance, system status readouts, data from just about any sensor you could think of. Starting with the video, I pointedly avoided the cockpit recording and focused on the rest of the ship, especially the engine room. It was strange to see myself on one of these, and in such an awful state. You wouldn’t even have known that I was alive until Benni notified me of the flux signatures that heralded the recovery team. Oddly, it didn’t seem to bother me very much. The person I saw sitting on the chair in the engine room didn’t register in my mind as myself. It had only been a little over a month, but it felt like forever ago.

From the moment I left the engine room, it took less than a minute until the jump, and all the video feeds cut out.  Interestingly, the engine room video and audio feed cut out a few seconds before the others. It was likely the proximity to the malfunctioning drive that caused it. There were the other camera feeds, but they didn’t offer anything interesting. I sighed. That left the sensor data.

 Tens of thousands of sensors throughout the ship recorded each of their own parameters, tracking every little thing that had the potential to be the cause of a problem. This was another reason why I was glad to have Benni. Without it, I would never be able to understand the incredible amount of data held inside. 

I fed a line from my tablet to Benni’s computer. “Here’s the black box data, Benni. Can you parse this and let me know if there’s anything that could explain how we survived that jump?”

“Yes, Captain. One Moment.”

I waited, knowing it wouldn’t take long. Ulthean AI could be stupid sometimes (at least, the leashed AI), but when it came to analysis, they tore through data like an acetylene torch goes through plastic. Less than a minute later, Benni spoke up again.

“Captain. I Have Found One Major Anomaly.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

“Before The Jump, My CDrive Experienced A Severe Dip In Power. This Is Unusual Behavior For A CDrive Performing A Premature Jump.”

“Well, what do they usually do?” I asked. “Keep going until they explode?”

 
“That Is Correct.”

“Ours still exploded, though,” I pointed out.

“That Is Correct.The Dip In Power Was Severe, But It Was Not Enough To Halt The Meltdown Process.”

I rubbed one of my horns as I thought. It was times like these that I wish I had been trained as a Flux Tech, but it had always seemed like such a pain. There was so much uncertainty with Flux. A prime example of that was sitting near the aft of my ship.

“Could this just be luck?” I ventured. “Premature jumps aren’t always deadly.”

“In Cases Where The Crew Of A Ship Survived A Premature Jump, The Behavior Of The CDrive Did Not Change. The Mechanics Of Surviving A Premature Jump Are Still Not Understood.”

Sighing, I leaned against the wall. “And our data does nothing to change that.”

“My Apologies, Captain.”

“You didn’t create the data, don’t apologize,” I said, but then a thought came to me. “Wait, I noticed that the engine room video feed cut out a few seconds before the others. Can you cross-reference the dip in power to when the feed was cut?”

“Yes, Captain.”

Benni clicked as it thought, then spoke again.

“The Dip In Power Occurred One Half Second After The Engine Room Feed Went Offline.”

I hummed in thought. So, they could be related, but the Blessed knew how. As I tidied up, I said, “I guess we’re going to have to call this one a mystery for now. Maybe someone else on the engineering team has an idea?”

“That Is Possible.”

“Well,” I said, “Thanks for your help, there’s a lot here I couldn’t do without you.”

“Of Course, Captain. You Are Welcome.”

“Now,” I said, rubbing my hands together, “let’s take a look at your surveillance systems.”

We spent the rest of the day locating and diagnosing every one of Benni’s ship cameras. Unnervingly, there were a few in some very hidden places. I was used to having my every move watched, having grown up in Ulthea, but I drew the line at having cameras in the bathroom and crew quarters. Most of the ship cameras were obvious black bubbles in the ceiling, but the ones installed in more private areas were either concealed or disguised.

After finding the second camera behind a bathroom mirror, I groaned. “Benni, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to remove some of these.”

“May I Ask Why, Captain?”

For some reason, that question gave me pause. It wasn’t pushback exactly, but it was an unexpected level of curiosity. Regardless, this was one area I couldn’t back down on. “I know they act as your eyes, but there are some things you really don’t need to see.”

“I Do Not Understand.”

Somewhat unsure of how to proceed, I shifted on my feet, which is surprisingly difficult when wearing mechanical braces. Benni didn’t have any framework of our societal norms. Hiding nakedness or just being truly alone wasn’t something it had to want or care about. “I thought these areas were private. I mean, they should be private. People need to be able to go somewhere they know they aren’t being watched. It lets us relax.”

“Having A Stress-Free Environment Is Conducive To Good Crew Behavior. Very Well, Captain. You May Remove Any Cameras You Deem Stressful.”

“I won’t remove any cameras from common areas,” I assured it. “It’s just these hidden ones.”

“I Trust You, Captain. At Your Discretion.”

After that discussion, each camera removal came with a small pang of guilt, but by the tenth one, the guilt began to give way to disgust. Bathrooms, bedrooms, hidden inside bunks and closets. By the time I had removed the last hidden camera, I had a small pile on the galley table. It was ridiculous. Who had the time to monitor all these? The standard cameras I understood, but why would they have needed to install so many hidden ones? 

The connections my brain was beginning to make weren’t going anywhere good. None of these feeds had been available in the black box. Where were they sending their data? Quickly, I swept the offending cameras into a wastebin and dusted my hands off. They were gone now, that was the important thing.

“And… that’s everything,” I said, poking at my tablet. “Hidden cameras removed, common room cameras diagnosed. It looks like the flux wave shorted the hardware itself this time, so I’ll need to order replacements. I’m not sure how long that’ll take, but I’ll let you know, alright?”

“Thank You, Captain, That Would Be Appreciated.”

I looked at the time. It was well past when the canteen usually began serving dinner, and I suddenly realized I was ravenously hungry. And a little dizzy. Had I really been at this all day? I finished putting my tools away and tucked the tablet under one arm. With luck, some of the engineering team would still be eating, I wanted to pick their brains about the CDrive.

Halfway out the main exterior hatch, I stopped and turned halfway to look back into the ship. “Benni?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“How are you doing?” I asked. “I feel bad about leaving you alone in this ship with nothing to do. It would drive me crazy.”

“It Would Be A Waste Of Power To Continue Running At Full Capacity Without Input. If I Am Idle For A Set Period Of Time, I Enter A Standby Mode. My Main Processes Shut Down Until Input Is Detected From Relevant Sensors. I Do Not Get Bored.”

Right, not a person. Still a computer. An extremely powerful computer, a computer that may or may not be developing emotions, but a computer nonetheless. I sighed, patted the side of the door twice and turned to leave again. “Okay. Good night, buddy.”

“Good Night, Captain.”