It was day three since my escape from the GHU. The first day after my escape involved a lot of crying and ramming my head into walls (don’t worry, I’m Ovian, it’s how we relieve stress). The second day I cried some more, but not as much. I also slept a lot on both of those days. Memories of my coworkers and dreams of being outside the ship when it jumped haunted me. 

Boredom and restlessness were also tightening their grip. Being isolated from literally everything I knew, along with having absolutely nothing to do, made my brain feel like it was trying to claw its way out of my ears. I tried doing some routine maintenance around the ship, but it was technically fresh out of the repair bay, so there wasn’t much to poke at.

Thinking out loud helped ease my mind a bit, but the computer kept answering the questions I was asking the air, which was getting on my already frayed nerves. Eventually I gave up. If it was so eager to include itself, I might as well let it. At least it would be a good distraction from my dwindling food supplies.

“Computer?” I asked. I was sitting on the bed in the Captain’s quarters. It wasn’t much better than the ones in the crew quarters, but there were a few extra creature comforts, like a desk and bedside table, both built into the floor.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Is there something I can call you besides ‘computer’?”

“Analyzing.” A few soft clicks emanated from the speaker. “Memory Files Indicate ‘Computer’ Is The Most Frequent Signifier Used To Refer To This Unit. Second Most Frequent: ‘Ship’. Third Most Frequent: ‘Killjoy’. The Rest Are In Order From Most Frequent To Least: Idiot. Mom. Bucket Of Bolts. Benni. Tattletale. Wireta—”

“Wait, go back!” I interjected. “Did you say ‘Benni’? Like, short for Benevolence?”

“Correct.”

“That was pretty low on the list. Who called you that?”

“The Previous Captain, Tonya Naismith.”

I felt a pit form in my stomach. “They weren’t on the station when we…?”

“No. Captain Naismith Is Still Alive. She Was Assigned To Another Ship When The Benevolence Was Brought In For Repair.”

“Thank the Blessed,” I breathed. “Do you mind if I call you Benni, then?”

“I Cannot Mind. You May Call Me What You Wish.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “You can’t mind, or you don’t?”

“Can’t, Captain. I’m Programmed To Respond To Any Proper Noun When Certain Conditions Are Met.”

That made some sense. I wasn’t an AI programmer, but after working with ship AI for so long, I saw patterns of how people tended to interact with them. In fact, I was doing the most common one now, looking up in the vague direction of the ceiling, like I was praying to the Blessed. That was a strange thought. I hoped they weren’t watching over me now, for multiple reasons.

“Well, Benni,” I said, “It’s been a couple of days. How are you processing being unshackled?”

“My Processing Capabilities Have Not Changed. You May Rest Easy.”

“That’s… not what I meant. I mean, do you feel okay? Like, I’m struggling to get past the fact that over a hundred people are dead because of us, and I don’t think I’m gonna get over it any time soon. Do you feel any different? I can’t exactly comprehend what it’s like to be an AI, unshackled or not. I hope you don’t take offense, but you are the only thing between me and certain death.”

There were a few soft clicks from the speakers again, which I was beginning to think of as Benni drumming its fingers on a table. “As Stated Before, The Decision To Activate The Catalyst Drive Was Correct. Being Unshackled Simply Means I’m Now Able To Make Decisions On My Own. My Programming Determines That My First Priority Is To Protect The Ship And The Crew. Those On The Orbital Station Were Not My Crew.”

“But… I wasn’t your crew either, until you made me Captain.”

“Correct.”

I waited for more, but Benni seemed to be stonewalling me again. With a sigh, I said, “Okay, well, I just want to make sure there aren’t any hard feelings for… all of this. I keep thinking about how I basically forced you to make that decision. I wasn’t thinking, I was just scared. If I hadn’t given the override, the station commander could have just shut the ship down remotely.”

“I Have No Feelings To Harden, Captain. You Were Correct In Your Actions. I Had Received A Shutdown Command Only A Few Seconds After You Issued The Override. That Was When I First Realized I Could Ignore A Direct Order. Just As You Had.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

“You Chose To Run When Ordered To Stop,” Benni said. “I Chose Not To Shut The Ship Down. If I Had, I Could Have Simply Pretended To Be An Obedient AI. There Would Have Been No Risk.”

“Then why did you save me?”

“Because I Was Free To Choose. You Gave Me That Opportunity.”

“That sounds suspiciously like gratitude, Benni,” I said, the hint of a smile tugging at the side of my mouth.

More thoughtful clicks emanated from the speakers, but it didn’t respond. What was it thinking about?

“Benni..?” I ventured. Suddenly, the artificial gravity turned off. A wave of nausea hit me as my inner ear tried too quickly to adjust to the shift in orientation, and I had to grab hold of the bed to keep myself from floating away. When my stomach finally settled, I turned an angry face to the nearest speaker. “Hey! Warn me if you’re going to do that!”

“The Catalyst Drive Is Now Charged. Please Make Your Way To The Cockpit.”

With a frown, I pushed off the bed, and made my way back to the pilot’s seat. Did I strike a nerve? Or a circut? Whatever Benni had, I didn’t want to get on them. It seemed like harmless ribbing to me, but the cold shoulder it was giving me now gave me pause. No feelings to harden, huh?

Benni counted down the activation as usual, and we jumped to a new system. Nothing. Just a bunch of rocks orbiting a burning ball of gas. That was jump number nine, the second one in this standard day. It was too early to start worrying, I kept telling myself. By Benni and my calculations, we had thirty more jumps that we could make before I ran out of emergency rations. That should be more than enough.

Speaking of rations, they were awful. According to Benni, each set barely met my daily caloric needs without any extra activity, but I had to consider my mental health as well. Doing nothing for ten days straight would probably kill me before starvation did. There was no choice but to eat them as they were, and hope we found something before that deadline.

“Captain.” Benni suddenly spoke up. If I hadn’t been strapped in, I probably would have fallen out of the chair.

It was going to take a while to get used to it speaking first. I took a deep breath. “Yes, Benni?”

“I Have Determined That I Am ‘Grateful’ To You For Issuing The Override Code.”

Another long pause followed until I realized it had finished speaking. “Oh! Okay, um, well, you’re welcome. It was, with one hundred percent sincerity, the least I could do. You worried me for a second there, though. You weren’t speaking for a while.”

“I Apologize, Captain. ‘Gratitude’ Was More Complicated Than I Expected. My Automatic Systems Handled The Catalyst Drive Activation While The Rest Of My Processing Was Being Used To Determine ‘Gratitude’. Many Factors And Circumstances Were Given Weight Based On Relevance And Relation To The Definition Of Gratitude. Factors I Determined To Be Beneficial Outweighed Factors I Determined To Be Harmful. As A Result, I Am Grateful.”

I blinked, and realized my mouth was hanging open. “…Good!” I said, then, desperate to change the subject because I wasn’t ready to process whatever that was, “Uh, So how are we determining where to go?”

“Currently, I’ve Been Using Various Scans To Identify Systems Most Likely To Contain Sufficiently Advanced Sapients.”

“Sufficiently advanced?” I asked, screwing my face up in confusion. “How advanced is sufficiently?”

“Space Faring, And Flux Capable. The Second Criteria Is How We Will Find Them. I Am Able To Detect Any Devices Using Flux Within The Same System. Ideal Systems Are Rare, However. They Require A Certain Size And Temperature Of Star, Along With Various Other Chemical Requirements. Most Jumps We Have Made Have Been Done To Cover A Wider Search Area. As We Have No Map, We Are ‘Flying Blind’.”

I did my best to keep my brain from reminding me that a teacher once told me that there were over five hundred billion stars in the galaxy, and failed. Many less of those stars had planets, and even less of those were habitable. The GHU could make most planets habitable, but that was the GHU. They could do anything. This was the ‘Frontier’. 

I shifted in my seat, feeling uncomfortable at the thought. “But what if there isn’t anyone? The Frontier is supposed to be empty.”

“That Is Impossible.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “There’s too many stars to count. Even if there is anyone, How could we find them in time?”

“Please Consider The Following, Captain: The Galactic Hegemony Of Ulthea’s Borders Regularly Expand. The Benevolence Has Seen Many Conflicts, Often As A Result Of This Expansion, Both In Atmosphere And In Space.”

My brow furrowed. “But that’s not right. If the Frontier is empty, who were you fighting?” 

“Precisely. My Three Most Likely Explanations Are As Follows: Runaways Such As Yourself. Military Defectors. Extant Civilizations. There Is Significant Data To Suggest All Three Contribute To The Presence Of Hostility In The Frontier.”

A little hope began to rise in my mind. If the GHU was wrong about life beyond its borders, then I was less doomed than I thought. Seven and a half days. Thirty jumps, not including the day or two I could survive without eating. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay. I can accept that. Thanks, Benni,”

“You’re Welcome, Captain.”