SECOND DRAFT: Hard Bank Left

10

Celeste's chassis swung dangerously low. One of the knots had come undone, causing the top half to slip. The one completed arm clanked along the surface of the platform, the fingers waggling as the knuckles bounced. The incomplete arm, caught in the net, stuck out at an awkward angle, pneumatic levers flailing. It wouldn't bother Krys so much if it weren't for the rudimentary head, wobbling back and forth between the arms.

The body was heavier than she thought, heavier than any human she'd lifted. Krys shoved the chassis back into place, and retied the knot securing it to the ceiling. With that out of the way, she could focus on accessing Celeste's primary controls. The housing for her neural network currently resembled a black box. Graham had situated it in an alcove below his work station. 'For convenience,' he said, 'so that I can switch her on when we land.' Krys chuckled at the thought; Graham almost never turned her off in the first place, nor did he ever leave the WindSong this way.

Whenever they landed, the platform below Graham's work space touched ground, and the only part that could connect to docking platforms when they pulled up to docking towers. In spite of this convenience, Graham almost always took the ramp in the cargo hold, thus defeating the entire purpose of having Celeste's housing there for convenience.

There weren't many wooden pieces on the ship, wood was simply too heavy, too valuable. The coffee table in the sitting room, the pantry in the kitchen, the heavy shelving unit in Graham's room, a few other odds and ends: every piece of wood on the WindSong had been made by Graham. The woodwork of the housing was no different: fine, elegant, and neat. Every edge flush, every corner perfectly set. Krys lovingly ran hers hand over the smooth surface, found the edge of the lid, set seamlessly into the frame, and lifted. She leaned forward to look inside. Celeste's brain sat dormant, a tangle of wires and circuits and crystalline structures contained in a clear case inside the box. Every once in awhile a faint red glow would pulse through the wires.

Reaching her hand in, Krys fumbled along the side of the clear case until she found a thin, metallic switch. It was facing down, meaning the automatic locking had shut her down too. With one swift movement, the switch popped up and Celeste's brain began to glow its usual hazy green. Satisfied, Krys replaced the lid to the housing unit and made for the ladder.

Celeste anxiously greeted Krys from the glass cylinder on Graham's neatly organized desk. It took up a corner and no more, everything else on Graham's desk was bolted down in its normal place,: the wires neatly tucked in the back, a rack of drawers under the desk. Celeste pressed her palms to the glass, making bright spots form on the surface.

"Celeste, I need to know where we are, where we're heading, and when we'll be there."

Celeste didn't move as she answered the questions. "We're somewhere over The Badlands, heading to rendezvous with the Helmstaar in Seven Temples. We'll be there in another day or two." Celeste spoke timidly, her tinny voice catching Krys off guard. "Are you alright?"

Krys looked over the tiny pink figure. Celeste seemed genuinely concerned. Placing her palms on the table Krys leaned forward, getting her face very close to Celeste. "What happened last night, Cese?"

"What do you mean, 'what happened last night?' Do you not remember?"

"No. It's... vague. Like a bad dream."

"Why don't you have a rest, ma'am? You're still shaken up."

"Maybe you're right. I'll be in my room."

Krys's room seemed a foreign land. Everything was put away, clean, hanging, folded as it should be. There was nothing to in particular that made her room feel like it wasn't hers.It was as though someone had come into her room and moved everything two inches to the left while she was away. She needed to find something, something safe and comforting: something that felt like home. The trouble was, that one thing was gone, along with half the place she called home.