One Survivor, One Spacesuit
“Respond, Headquarters. This is Hermes! We’ve been stranded near the TK-7 asteroid cluster. I am Second Lieutenant Sera Robini of the Imperial Crown Guard.”
I had become a spacesuit.
No—I was a spacesuit.
The reason I hadn’t been able to move until now, the reason I was fine without so much as a sip of water—all of it was because I was no longer human. It was absurd, but it was reality.
“A mutiny broke out aboard… During the suppression, our warp coordinates went off course and we were exposed to stellar winds.”
The sensation was strange. Every time the woman who had opened my abdominal cavity and climbed inside—Sera—pressed her mouth to the oxygen tube and shouted, it felt as if someone were pumping air straight into a pair of lungs.
“Hah… hah… The explosion damaged the hull. Independent navigation is impossible. Water and food are both gone. If anyone can hear this, please…!”
My head rang. It rang and rang. The blood-taste on her dry lips and the raw rasp of her voice told me she had been driven into a corner. Yet there was nothing I could do for her. I didn’t even know what an empire was, much less how to open a channel to one.
> This unit is not equipped with interstellar communication capabilities. That module requires the entity’s evolution.
“Huh!? What is that? A system AI?”
Startled, Sera finally registered my presence and began examining the suit she was wearing from every angle. Only then could I see my own limbs as well. This was no ordinary life-support spacesuit; it was a full-body exoskeleton that looked far more like combat gear. Dark purple metal parts that didn’t quite seem like steel were fitted along the fingertips, the shoulder joints, and various points across the abdomen. More important still was the fact that—limited though it was—I could communicate with the wearer.
“I’ve never seen this model… The serial number’s been wiped. Is there a manual? Do you have a manual?”
> No manual is registered to this unit.
“Then a name? What is the model designation?”
Realizing that my thoughts were being converted into system messages and delivered to her, I called up my own name.
Lee Seojin.
A translucent window appeared before Sera’s eyes.
> The codename registered to this unit is JIN.
“This doesn’t look like an Imperial powered suit… Hah. Fine. JIN, transfer control authority to me immediately.”
> This unit does not fully understand the user’s request.
“There are mutants outside that door. The moment this suit’s oxygen runs out, I die.”
Thick despair and grief clung to her voice. Yet it didn’t seem to come from a simple fear of death.
“The mission has failed. I have failed, and so has this ship. So at the very least, as a shield of the Imperial House, I will take as many of them with me as I can.”
The sole remaining survivor in this sector had chosen a final stand over simply letting her breath run out in loneliness and despair. Of course, the Imperial House and all the rest of it were none of my concern.
> This unit is designed to prioritize the user’s survival. Survival until a rescue team arrives is recommended.
With death all but certain, Sera clung to her convictions in a state of half-resignation. I, on the other hand, could still glimpse a possibility of survival. I had thought myself bound in that dark room, unable to see a thing—but nothing had actually been restraining me. I had simply been hanging on the wall like a machine whose lifespan had run out. The moment she put me on, power had sparked to life, and I had become able to generate oxygen as if I were truly breathing. The inner lining that clung to her skin absorbed dried sweat and dust. Even the spit mixed into her ragged exhalations and the blood seeping from her wounds were circulating inside me, converting into electrical power. It wasn’t mere waste. Mixed into it was some unidentifiable, peculiar scent.
If I truly ran on human beings as a power source, then the instant this sole survivor died, I would be sealed forever in this pitch-black void of space.
“When interstellar transit coordinates go off course, tracking becomes nearly impossible! There’s no water or food left for long-term survival…!”
> This unit is equipped with a life support system for the user’s survival.
“Khrrngh!”
Sera trembled with fury. Looking closer, she was a girl who appeared even younger than I had been. The calluses on her palms and the solid muscle of her frame spoke of a body that had been thoroughly trained. The spirit that burst from her clear, ringing voice offered at least a partial explanation for how she had managed to survive alone this long aboard a half-destroyed ship.
“I am Second Lieutenant Sera Robini! Hand over control of this suit! Now!”
Of course, the fact that she was an outstanding soldier far beyond her years still ranked well below my own survival.
> Second Lieutenant Sera Robini does not possess the relevant authority.
“Th-then this is Captain Balt Klevans! Or Evon Stranoff! I don’t know who designed you, but you can’t refuse an order from the Imperial bloodline!”
> Biometric data does not match. Please try again in thirty years.
“Aaaargh!!”
The moment the unlock-failure message appeared, Sera thrashed inside the suit.
After a long, violent struggle to seize control of the combat suit, Sera finally collapsed where she sat. Powered suits were weapons she had handled since her days at the academy, but she could state with absolute certainty that she had never faced a situation like this. Not only was it fitted with a high-function AI—it was this impossible to reason with. She couldn’t even understand why something like this had been left abandoned in a corner of the ship in the first place.
Thanks to it, though, she was still alive.
Sss… sss…
If not for the precious air still flowing through the tube, she would already be dead.
> Have you calmed down a little?
“What… exactly… is your problem?”
Thinking it over, she decided that persuading this AI would be the faster use of their remaining time. She wasn’t going to last long in a place crawling with mutants anyway.
> This unit does not have access privileges to the ship’s main system. Therefore, it has not gathered sufficient information to accept the wearer’s decision.
“You want a more detailed account of the situation outside?”
> It may serve as a reference for judgment.
“…Hah.”
With no other choice, she leaned her back against the wall and began recounting to JIN the full horror of everything that had happened.
“Hermes is a multi-purpose colony vessel used for interstellar migration and planetary construction.”
It was in an entirely different class from a simple transport hauling people and cargo. It was a colossal space colony designed so that the ship itself would serve as a habitat until the climate of the destination planet became suitable for survival. Built around gravity engines that could endure decades of travel and an artificial ecosystem powered by nuclear fusion, it housed roughly forty thousand people—crew, scientists, soldiers, physicians—the scale of a modest small city.
“The first ten years passed without incident. Then a faction that had decided we were far enough from Imperial territory raised the banner of rebellion against the Imperial House.”
> What was their objective?
“Probably to stop the Empire from expanding its colonies. There were members of the Imperial bloodline aboard, so they may have been after hostages as well. In any case…”
The mutiny they had expected to crush easily turned out to be far larger in scale. And rooting out rebel forces that had already burrowed deep into a spaceship where firearms were restricted for safety reasons proved anything but simple.
“We did manage to put most of them down in the end. The bigger problem came after that.”
> You mean the mutants outside. What are they?
“The end result of human genes mutated by stellar winds. Most of the ship has already been consumed by them.”
The catastrophe that followed that chain of horrors left nothing intact. Rampaging abominations. Water and food contaminated by radiation. Sporadic depressurization from catastrophic hull damage, and the shutdown of the Life-Conditioning Systems. Even as a trained soldier she had clawed her way through years of it, but Hermes had already passed the point of no return. The torch of pioneering that had set out to light one corner of the galaxy with brilliance was now a vast stone coffin, sliding quietly toward a cold death.
“Do you understand now? That means you have no choice but to follow my command.”
Sera glanced at the remaining oxygen readout glowing at the edge of her vision.
Twelve percent.
On a standard-issue spacesuit, that would have meant roughly three hours of activity. Looking at the design of this suit—which didn’t even have anything resembling an oxygen tank mounted on the back—she doubted it would last half that long.
> This unit has not gathered sufficient information to accept the wearer’s decision.
“Why not!?”
On top of everything else, JIN’s next reply made her burn through what little oxygen remained with pure rage.
> Based on a synthesis of Second Lieutenant Sera Robini’s statements, the probability of long-term survival aboard this vessel is assessed as low.
“That’s what I’ve been saying!”
> However, impulsive combat action is not a fundamental solution to the current situation.
“Then what exactly do you expect me to do!?”
> This unit proposes exploratory action for the purpose of gathering more objective data. Additionally, a map that can clarify the ship’s structure is required.
“None of that is any help right now! We barely have any time left…!”
> This unit is equipped with a life support system for the user’s survival.
“Y-you stupid AI…!”
One survivor, and one spacesuit.
What finally ended the conflict that had seemed destined to last forever was a presence stirring beyond the door.
— Grrrrrk…
The enormous shadow cast through the narrow gap of the doorway, and the bizarre sound that came with it, belonged to nothing human.