Carpathian Forty-Three

Carpathian Forty-Three - Part 4

"You're sure you're up for this?" Stephen asks.

They're helping with the twins, preparing them for their EVA. The pair are nominally able to operate outside the ship on a moment's notice, but it's always best to check their plumbing before sending them out. Stephen is checking all their fluid lines with a volatiles detector, an electronic nose, as it were.

"I'm fine," Rhianu says. They check Beta with their own detector.

The Twins are older than me, older than the ship. They're from a time when quantum computing was less advanced, incapable of hosting sentience. They don't contain quantum computers, but they are linked to one in engineering, and ancient ancestor that barely qualifies as a computer anymore. It's amazing they're still operating. They've made over fifty cycles from the inner planets to Saturn and back.

They're linked to Rhianu, a brain-computer interface makes them extensions of them. Captain Voclain used to call them 'Rhi's arms'. They stopped when Rhianu and the Captain ended their intimate relationship. It's not fair to call The Twins an extension of Rhianu. They are independent, capable of performing tasks on their own. It's just that the engineer shares a special bond with them, and they can go places Rhianu cannot, be their eyes and hands.

"There's no rush on this. We're still operating in norms even with the dust build up," Stephen says.

"Let's just get it done. Then it's one less thing to worry about."

Alpha looks over to Beta, their one off-set eye unblinking. They whir quietly. Once upon a time the pair were as silent as void. They're old now, they haven't been overhauled in cycles. There are no parts let to do so. Rhianu machines replacement parts as they're needed. Or the Twins do themselves. They're rather clever that way, or their designers were.

The pair clomp into the airlock, leaving Stephen and Rhianu floating, looking after them as the inner door closes. The Twins have magnetic feet. They've never been as graceful as the Spacer crews that they've worked with. It's a holdover from their ancient design, when magnetic boots were the norm, and Spacers were a dream.

I link to the Twins and do my own checks. I don't normally intrude on their connection; it feels invasive to inject myself into Rhianu and their bond. We need to be sure they're EVA ready though. I feel Rhianu's anxiety as I run a checklist on The Twins. It's unpleasant. Touching other minds, even via the primitive link with The Twins is always unpleasant. It's easy to get lost in the wildly erratic thoughts in a human mind.

"Alpha has a sticky servo in their right shoulder," I say.

"I know. We haven't had time to machine a replacement," Rhianu says. "It'll be fine."

"Understood," I say, disconnecting from The Twins.

Captain Voclain is watching from the bridge, oddly illuminated in all its glory. The bridge is usually dark, unused as we glide from planet to planet. It's standard procedure to have it on-line and ready for operation during EVAs. Technically we don't need to have the bridge up for a drone EVA, but The Twins are members of the crew as much as any of the rest of us. If something goes wrong, we're going to save them.

"Captain, we're ready for EVA," Rhianu says over the coms from the airlock to the bridge.

"Go for EVA," Voclain says. "Darkness protect you, Twins."

"Darkness protect you," Rhianu mouths, but doesn't speak. They turn to head to engineering, where they'll monitor The Twins over their neural link.

Stephen, suited up in EVA gear, save the helmet, settles against the bulkhead next to the airlock. "See ya after," he says to Rhianu. Stephen is the rescue EVA on this operation. They'll put their helmet on and go after The Twins if needed. They shouldn't be needed. It's just procedure.