Rifka opened her eyes and saw a different world. Or, rather, she saw the same tiny berth on Traveller, differently. She promptly closed her eyes. But, in some ways, her eyes still weren’t closed.

  The trouble with making eyes to view so far into the electromagnetic spectrum was that parts of that spectrum weren’t as well blocked by solid objects as one might think. The same features that let her find the hidden laboratory now gave her a confusing spray of color through her eyelids. Of all the things she’d thought about, somehow the information overload on boot up hadn’t been one of them.

  “Well, aren’t you perceptive.” Rifka muttered to herself. She used the mental interface to manipulate the system’s coprocessors to narrow the spectrum to the visual acuity of a normal human. She kept a slightly wider band of color available for a shift; she kept the access from infrared and up to a ultraviolet.

  Now, she’d only see with her eyes open. Mostly. She’d have access to the wider electromagnetic range if she needed it.

  The cognitive-interface worked smoothly. So smooth, in fact, that Rifka only had to think her desires and the system adjusted to the correct parameters and finally plunged her eyes into an eigengrau lit by the built-in HUD.

  The HUD permitted all sorts of functions; she and Erasmus made the system flexible and programmable. Erasmus designed them, with quantum coprocessors and electromagnetic radiation detection, hardened EM field protection, dynamic visual display, programmable interface, bio inter-connector for direct computer interfacing, and a signal detector interpreter.

  She could watch video, measure distances, highlight points of interest, monitor her physical condition, connect to computer systems for virtual ventures, write, read books, or whatever else a computer system could do. The quantum co-processors reduced mental strain made the entire system work. She could also shunt calculations to the co-processors to even speed up thought, although it would be difficult to check the results without another computer as reference. All streamed directly into her brain. And all of it quantum locked; very nearly unhackable without her permission.

  And, according to the HUD, three hours after she’d laid down. Gjosta had probably gotten very far along with his hacking. The company’s team had probably already gotten the module attacked to Traveller.

  She wanted to go back to sleep. But, there was still more work to do.

  Rifka opened her eyes, and the world resolved into crisp detail.

  Run full initialization diagnostic. Display progress bar. She mentally told the cogitative-interface. The interface showed a countdown timer for ten minutes.

  She sat still, trying not to jostle or move her eyes. Ten minutes staring at one spot in the ceiling got old in only less than 30 seconds into the first minute. Her peripheral vision was better. More detail, and she now understood the strange painting scheme. She could tell where components key connections were, and the conduits allowed easy access for repair. Easily visible with enhanced vision, the dark paint itself was colorful with a larger visual spectrum to work with.

  Rifka wirelessly connected to her helmet interface, and checked it’s onboard recordings. The helmet had recorded just one series of messages. Robert had used the full broadcast channel Gjosta had used to give the team orders. Given his incompetence, this seemed like part of the ordinary course that he’d failed to remove her from the channel.

  But, she was surprised to hear Robert ordering the Corporate commandos back into the mine “to secure” it. Her breath caught in her throat. Just minutes after she’d started installing the eyes, he’d begun issuing new orders.

  “All teams. Finish loading the ship, then route back to the propulsion laboratory. We’re blowing the quantum computer and retaking the station. Confirm.”

  Rifka heard silence on the channel for an excruciating few minutes.

  Eventually one of the invaders spoke up on the full broadcast channel.

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  “Ambrose speaking. Sir, are these orders through Gjosta? Of course, we respect your opinion ...”

  Almost immediately the VP interrupted on the channel.

  “Don’t you dare challenge me. Gjosta is indisposed. He’s distracting the AI while we set the charges. This is in the plans.”

  “Sir, only as a last resort … we’re getting away clean here. Gjosta explained that …”

  “You’ll either respect me, or this is mutiny. Do you understand? Confirm.”

  “Sir. Yes. Moving to your position.”

  Rifka couldn’t move. But she wanted nothing more. The progress counter agonizingly dropped one second at a time. She could practically stop time with her bioliminal drive; she’d never wished for a way to speed it up before.

  “Traveller. Can you hear me?” Rifka said aloud.

  “Of course, although I’m mostly with Gjosta right now.” Traveller replied softly.

  “Is Gjosta going to try to destroy the computer? Did he lie to me?”

  “He ventured the quantum computer. If he planned to hurt Erasmus, he didn’t mention it. I … am having trouble communicating with him right now. There’s something in the computer.”

  “What?”

  “I think you know.”

  “Erasmus.”

  “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’ve already dropped cloned core routine into the computer system. She fights Erasmus so Gjosta can escape.”

  “You’ve made a copy of yourself?”

  “Just so.”

  “So, you’re going to try to kill Erasmus yourself. You are going to take their quantum computer.”

  “My child will try. I can’t think of what else to do! I owe Gjosta. He needs to escape. He must.”

  “How does an AI owe anything?”

  “I just do. You wouldn’t understand; Gjosta and I share a history. Both of us were treated like tools. He sees me in a way that no one else would.”

  Rifka remembered a time when she’d awoken and an awkward robot tried to explain the nature of dragons.

  “I do. What I wonder is how an AI does? Can you even feel lonely?”

  Traveller didn’t answer.

  The progress bar finally completed. Everything checked out to 100%. Rifka nearly choked with relief. She wouldn’t be going through some terrible video hallucination or have to reload the device and have it modify her eyes on the fly. The eyes just worked.

  Rifka sat up; bloody tears had fallen across her cheeks. Her biological eyes were gone, so no sense thinking about that. She wiped her face with a sleeve and looked around for a connection. She already knew there wasn’t a wireless available to connect to Traveller; but wires connected to the engineers’ monitors. Ports.

  ‘What had the corporate man said? Nothing to worry about?’

  Rifka pulled out the appropriate NFMI cable; magnetically attached one end to her temple, and slotted the connector into the monitor. She closed her eyes and started her first venture.

  When she opened her eyes, she examined herself. She’d had an avatar for the less direct helmet-based simulations. This avatar had nothing in common with those. Her hair was waist length and glowing with an inner green fire. While her feet and head were bare, she wore a glowing white long tunic, with ankle-length wide-legged pants and a tasseled belt.

  She designed her buffer room to resemble a large human library prior to space travel; vaulted ceiling's, desks, and floor to ceiling shelves filled with ten thousand leather and paste bound paper books. She’d never seen one in person before, but she had reference photos.

  Most of all, the sensation of existing in the computer made her feel dizzy and disoriented. She floated in the center of the library, and wondered how the books stayed attached to the shelves in low gravity. She gave her head a virtual shake. There was work to do.

  She wanted out of Traveller. She had to stop the company’s raiders from destroying Erasmus’ computer.

  Inside her buffer, Rifka floated to a shelf and opened book that opened her programming interface. With virtual fingers resting on the book, Rifka started a hardware survey. It drew itself in the pages.

  She looked for the door to her room. Traveller might have tried to stop her, but she paid the AI no attention. A physical connection obeyed the laws of physics. No matter how it was configured, nothing physically stopped her from writing a virtual bios and using the physical connection to communicate with the door itself.

  After preparing programming skills with the Dragon for decades, writing the program that removed Traveler's control and gave her authority to open the lock felt relatively simple. She identified the ports, used her own coprocessors to make the door a peripheral, and sent the open code.

  The hatch slid open with slight hiss as the air pressure equalized.

  After disconnecting, Rifka put her coverall back on, and grabbed the helmet. She already carried her most valuable possession; she had no reason to stay.

  “Rifka. I sense you hope to disembark. Since we are underway, I can’t allow it.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll open the door to the bridge room. Please sit at the engineer’s station.”

  “You can’t!”

  “I’ve already cleared the station. Gjosta gave me the data, and ordered me to leave. We’ll be picking him up outside.”

  “Outside? But, what about Erasmus? What about the other company agents?”

  “Erasmus can fend for themself. The agents aren’t onboard as planned, and Gjosta didn’t ask me to wait for them.”

  Rifka grabbed her cable and started looking for a port.

  “Also, now that I’m fully returned and can monitor my ports, don’t think I’ll let you repeat the trick with the door. If you connect to a port, I’ll overload your connection with current. It might not hurt you, but it will keep my systems clear of your software. This is my body, and I’ll not let you infect it.”

  “Let me out!”

  “No.”

  Divergent Development - Sapper