SECOND DRAFT: Hard Bank Left

18

Celeste sat in the depths of her own mind keenly aware of the fact that she wasn't alone. Once she had sat alone, lacking that fundamental connection with the outside world when she wasn't being in use. Sure, she kept constant watch over the WindSong when not in direct use, but listening could only provide so much stimulation. She needed another intelligent mind, someone to communicate with constantly, someone who needed as much attention as she did. This was not what she wanted.

In her mind's eye, Celeste considered herself an entity in the form of a pink ball of light just behind the lense of her sensory data. She, her personhood, took up the space dedicated to consciously processing incoming data, and was in charge of filtering outgoing data. All subroutines, secondary processes, and data received when a data pin was connected was "back there" somewhere behind her, somewhere in the recesses of the space she occupied. Now he was back there too, quiet, meddling with subroutines. He'd directly affected her actions several times in this manner. She didn't like it.

He hadn't come out of the shadows since he was first introduced to her. His thoughts had been so powerful then that his presence had blinded her. It wasn't as though he had meant to. At the time he barely knew what he was, let alone where he was or what he was capable of. She had ignored him for the last three solar cycles. No attempts had been made on his part to approach or interact with her.

The eternity of those three days could not be expressed. Her mind functioned at its own lightning speed, slowing the outside world to a fraction of what humans call normal speed. Krys, her constant companion, was missing. Six days ago, Graham had tossed her overboard and thrown Celeste offline shortly thereafter. Celeste had woken in a daze with three days of missing time. She only saw Graham's face once since then, just as he flipped her on.

"Don't lose me," he had said.

What was that supposed to mean? And then he was gone.

The presence in the back of her mind approached from behind as she reflected. The images she had been reviewing, the last footage she had of Graham, took up the majority of the space in front of her. She couldn't read him. Her programming must have been faulty because reading his expressions was supposed to be something she was proficient at calculating. She touched the screen as a hand reached toward her, caressing the glowing pink sphere that was her mental form. She shivered - as much as an amorphous ball of light can shiver.

"Celeste?"

His familiar voice came at her so suddenly that she flitted away.

"Celeste, wait. It's important."

Celeste fluttered forward, assumed her humanoid shape and folded her arms. She eyed him, still unsure of how to react. She watched him intently. His dark green avatar barely stood out against the blackness of her mind. This version of him seemed younger, less weighed upon. This Graham was pure memory, personality, emotion... everything he relied upon to maintain his personhood, and everything that he simply didn't have access to.

Skeptical, she asked "What?"

"Where's Graham? I need to talk to him."

"He's not available."

"Well, where is he?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while."

"Shit."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Well, do you know where he's gone?"

"No. We've been trapped on the ship."

"Well, what about the chassis?"

"What about it?"

"Well hasn't he finished it yet?"