Zooey, Scene Four
06 Sep 2023Ryuko Ntsikana
Audio Portion at bottom, for listening convenience.
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Zooey. Part IV
Xochitl’s Capital Ship.
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Xochitl remained lost in her own thoughts since Zooey had vanished with the entity. Yatziri and Avery both kept a respectful distance. Whatever was going through Xochitl's mind, she kept to herself. Neither of her parents interjected on her behalf, contenting themselves with their roles aboard the ship. They gave their daughter the time and space she needed to process events and come to her conclusions.
Zooey had come from a simple space dredging background in a no-name back-end part of a no-name system, where most folks never rise above what they are. Art had another direction in mind from the beginning. Through his time with Xochitl, he had achieved that, with her help. His gleaming multipurpose ship sat in the hangar bay, with his name on its registry. His name. It was his dream come true, and he signed a contract to work for the person that made it happen.
Art kept his distance from the others, finding solace in mining fuel from the regional gas giants for the larger capital ship—a skill Xochitl had taught him. She had become the leader of a nomadic clan, not by choice, but by circumstance. The clan was modernizing its ancient ways, and Art, having been with Xochitl from the beginning, was given an honorary position within it.
Though Art's previous role in the military hadn't been combat-oriented, he wondered if that was why he felt less conflicted than the others. He had served with Zooey aboard Xochitl's various ships before her capital ship purchase—a move she had been hesitant to make. Art smirked at the thought: Would she have bought it if she had known what the future held? Hell no! Art thought, chuckling aloud.
As he sipped a homemade vitamin-protein shake after his workout, Art pondered the entity, Zooey's disappearance, and Xochitl's numerous confrontations with the mysterious creation. Although he didn't know Inspector Gladsen, Art understood the need for an analytical mind to sift through the logistical data he could provide. The entity might be able to alter records and memories, but it couldn't create fuel and food. Monitoring usage patterns, or the lack thereof, could be the key to locating it.
Art finished his drink, setting the empty container on the table in his ship's galley. As he rubbed his bicep, he began to think about what he'd need to gather the required data. His experience in military administration and logistics could prove valuable; what they needed now was an inspector's eye for detail to make sense of it all.
Yatziri looked up at Art’s ship wondering why she had never visited it or been onboard until now. Sure they had been busy, and had roamed all over the back forty of the Milky Way, when not fleeing or fighting the previous versions of the entity. That was no excuse to have never visited the man or his dream made real.
Yatziri looked around casually as she made her way through the corridors and up a flight of stairs that would take her to the mid-deck galley. Art’s ship was as Spartan as his workouts. As much as the man liked to physically exert himself, there wasn’t the associated smell of sweat or neutralizing disinfectant, that normally accompanied more established recreational locations.
She walked in on the man tapping away on his tablet, with a towel wrapped around his formed shoulders, and no shirt. The musculature of his chest and arms were on full display, temporarily distracting Yatziri’s thoughts on why she was here.
“A thought came to mind earlier,” Art stated, turning his tablet toward her, as Yatziri forced her eyes to look at it. “This creation can do most things, but it can’t create something out of nothing. A ship requires fuel and Zooey requires food.”
Yatziri was a smuggler by trade, and could more than conceive of where Art was going with this. She had been tracked more than once, stopping to refuel and restock her ship.
“The ship was one it had acquired for Inspector Gladsen’s purposes. It has a scoop to collect hydrogen fuel from appropriate stars and gas giants. It even has a food printer on-board, with a full supply for long range voyages.”
Art nodded. “Yes, but we have a ship type. Even this far removed from the larger galactic sector of humanity, there is abundant traffic moving hither and dither.”
“I give you an A for effort but their ship type isn’t exactly unique.”
Art smiled. “No, it is not. But did either of them think to change its paint or registry before high-tailing it? Most of these explorer’s out here have either worn paint, or they are flaunting it with their own brand. The one it acquired for the Inspector was grade-a bland. Whether they use any purchased resource or go it solo, there is a record, and we only need one hit to get the first crumb on their trail.”
Yatziri studied the tablet closer. “I see where you are going. Inspector Gladsen would have the information on what enhancements their ship had and what its range would be. That still leaves a lot of locations that would take ages to parse through.”
Art's smile broadened. “Don’t forget, we have an AI of our own. Avery should be able to claw her way through the star charts in nothing flat. All we need is one recorded sighting.”
Yatziri smiled herself, keeping her eyes from looking up at Art’s muscular frame. “And she can also sift through all of the reports with equal speed.”
Art noticed, with some amusement, Yatziri’s attempt to not look up at him. It wasn’t a first time he had seen this reaction. But that wasn’t why she was here. “One hit is all we need, then we can get the Inspector and Avery teamed up, like a couple of high tech bloodhounds.”
Yatziri wrinkled her nose at that, wondering what in the hell a bloodhound was, as she looked up out of habit, meeting Art’s smiling eyes.
Xochitl was kept out of the loop on what Art and Yatziri had devised. Instead they spoke with the ship’s AI directly, without the presence of Avery. Neither wanted to give Xochitl any false hopes. Not until there was a confirmed chance of hope. The AI agreed with their concern.
Inspector Gladsen responded to the courtesy page, wondering why he was boarding the ship of a person he did not really know. Sure he knew his name, but not much else. The AI was being uncharacteristically cagey about the affair, which did not give him a warm and fuzzy feeling considering his recent tenure as the host of an artificial sentient program.
All it took for Monty to come to realization of what he was in for, was the sight of Yatziri at the top of the entrance ramp. An audible sigh escaped his lips, as he looked on her cyberpunk appearance.
“I should have known. If an AI is involved, whether nice or not. You are not far removed.”
Yatziri smiled, watching the Inspector walk up the entrance. “Let’s hope you are right about that. We may have found a way for the pet detective to track its former owner, and its new host. Are you interested?”