Darkness

Ch.7: Ship Genius

"You alright, fella?"

"Could be better," I shrugged. It was the truth. The past several minutes had been spent in silence as I slowly caught my breath. The medic had stepped off into one of the adjacent rooms, I guess getting things ready for my extended stay. Apparently, he had also requested that our section of the ship be oxygenated, just in case. The thought of being here long enough for that to be useful didn't make me feel much better.

Laying down had made me jumpy, so instead, I had opted to stand, even though all I really wanted right now was some sleep. I studied the room for the hundredth time. It was still all massive and ridiculously sci-fi: everything was all minimalistic, with clean angles, and god, all the lines on everything. The view was making me want to bang my head against the wall. Why did sci-fi love stripes? And why in the world would giant alien robots subscribe to that? I moved to the edge of the table, operating table—whatever it was called, and looked down: a large fall. A large sci-fi fall to the sci-fi floor. I wouldn't be able to even die in peace.

"You guys suck at decorating."

"Woah!" Misdirect put his hands to his chest in mock offense, "Slinging insults now?"

"Almost dying makes me cranky. I don't want the last thing I see to be all these stupid stripes."

"Those stripes happen to be a part of our culture, thank you."

"I feel like we never addressed this, but you guys are like actual aliens right?"

"You're on our ship," Misdirect retorted, "You're the alien."

"Right right right," I said. "But you have a language. Do you have a planet and everything? like you're an actual extraterrestrial?"

"Again, the 'extraterrestrial' is you. And of course we have a planet, don't be silly."

"So did someone," I gave him a sidelong glance, "build you?"

He snorted.

"No but like, where did you-? I mean robots don't... ?"

"Don't what?" He asked. When I failed to respond he gave me a look, "I'm surprised your species hasn't run into mechanical life by now. Or—" he shifted, and the mood in the room seemed to sour, "are perhaps just not friendly towards them?"

He had not said it in an accusatory way, but I still felt alarmed. He was literally my only lifeline on the entire ship, perhaps I should watch my words.

"We haven't met any aliens. I mean, as far as I know. I didn't mean to be rude."

"No. No, you're fine. I guess I was just assuming..." he looked confused now, "Exactly how far has your species gone? Off your planet, I mean?"

"Like, actual people? I guess our moon. But we've sent rovers and probes to other planets."

"But that machine was made by your dad?"

"Yeah. Well, a lot of people worked on it too. Not just him. Why?"

"If your species is barely off your planet, how did you get that technology?"

"We made it I guess? You're saying we couldn't have done it?"

"Be reasonable," he said, "To have advanced tech, you have to at least have the basics down first"

"What? And we don't?"

"Yes."

I had to remind myself I was talking to a sentient robot on their fancy sci-fi spaceship. "Alright, fair," I grumbled, "I can admit that's kinda strange, but that is also a mystery I will not be thinking about until I've at least had sleep."