Divergence

Donny looked around the waiting faces on board the Eva Rye, a sour humor awakening in him at the thought of the likely disappointment that awaited them.

“Let’s see what we’ve got,” he said, and the room held its breath.

There was a lengthening pause as he tried to make sense of the verdict. The Stranger spoke up first.

“Well, this seems all in order. Pickup will be in just over ninety minutes, but I don’t see why I can’t start work right away. System repair will now commence.”

There was an air of hushed expectation. Edward hoped that the food generators would get fixed. The Stranger spoke: “Michel, you are not the right person to be the commander of the Eva Rye. That position should go to Joanne.”

With an air of utter professionalism, Joanne stood up, fastened the button of her jacket, and glided across the room towards Michel. Saskia glared at Armstrong, Craig, and Maurice. They were watching Joanne’s elegant stride, the swaying of her hips in her fitted jacket and skirt, the way her pretty little face betrayed no sign of triumph.

“I’m sorry,” said Joanne, shaking Michel’s hand.

“That’s okay,” said Michel, a look of resignation and relief spreading across his face. One could almost hear birdsong.

“Saskia,” said the Stranger. Saskia was staring at Joanne with loathing.

“What you do is dishonest. If you truly believe in what needs to be done, come out and say it for yourself.”

“What?” said Saskia. “I beg your pardon…”

“And lastly,” continued the Stranger, ignoring the interruption, “Miss Rose. You are now, and will always be, exactly right. The rest of you would do well to listen to her. And that’s the main work done.”

The crew of the Eva Rye gazed at one another, blank incomprehension fading into annoyance and then anger. Joanne spoke first, glowing with her new sense of command.

“I’m terribly sorry, Stranger, I believe there must be some mistake. What do you mean that’s it ? What about our Self-Replicating Mechanisms? What about the recycling units and the long-range senses? I thought you were offering system repair?”

“I was, I am, and so I have done,” said the Stranger. “The systems that were most obviously failing on your ship were the command structure and the group dynamic. That has now been rectified. Or it will be if you follow my advice.”

“What?” called Armstrong. “No! No way!”

Donny wore an air of acerbic satisfaction.

“So we’ve been tricked again. Nice one, Michel.”

“You have not been tricked,” said the Stranger indignantly. “Besides, I still have one last service to perform. When you pick me up, I will…”

“What if we don’t pick you up?” said Armstrong coolly.

“All comments through me, please, Armstrong,” murmured Joanne. “Still, it’s a good point, Stranger. I don’t think this is a Fair Exchange.”

The Stranger contracted its legs, irised them closed so that for a moment it was simply a black-and-silver disc, then straightened them out to form an elongated cross. It appeared agitated.

“Not a Fair Exchange?” it said. “But it is, by definition. We ran the software routine. You agreed to the trade.”

“That’s because we didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into.”

She gazed at the Stranger, stillness crystallizing around her body.

“Yes,” said Maurice. “We…” He stopped as Joanne raised a finger, indicating that he should shut up. She was creating a silence for the Stranger to fill. It did so.

“Well, the deal has been done. I am sorry it is not to your satisfaction.” It sounded hurt. “Perhaps as you gain more experience in the use of FE, you will understand just how rude you are being.”