The Ultimate Shelter
Sera was a soldier by nature.
She had joined the Crown Guard at only fifteen — a unit that treated its members as knights by station, even if their military rank was merely Second Lieutenant.
Her inflexible, coldly rational temperament was so well known that a few mischievous classmates at the academy had whispered the nickname "Frost Princess" behind her back. She had pointed out that the epithet could constitute lese-majesty against the imperial bloodline and requested they change it to simply "Princess" — and so the nickname stuck all the way through graduation.
That severity toward herself and others alike had not softened easily even after the end of the world came for the ship. If anything, her composure under extreme pressure produced such precise situational awareness and swift judgment that she never once felt the need to change.
The dark uniform skirt and underlayers, even the hair cut to fall just to her shoulders — all of it still followed dress regulations that no longer needed enforcing.
And yet even she, hard as stone, had no choice but to let something this foolish slip from her lips.
"Is this a dream, by any chance?"
"It is not a dream."
"Then it must be a lie. Surely."
"This unit does not lie. Second Lieutenant Sera Robini's continued survival is proof of that."
"And if it isn't that either… then you're mocking me. Of course."
Remembering JIN's earlier remark — that distinctly un-AI-like jab about her being "a little slow" — made the crown of her head itch. She pulled herself together and spoke in a somewhat heated tone.
"A powered suit that produces oxygen? With no water and no catalyst — how is that even possible!?"
"Not every phenomenon requires an explanation."
"That is for me, a human being, to decide! Why won't you answer my questions?"
"Atmospheric composition stabilization complete. Suit will open in five seconds."
"Y-you're ignoring me now, too…!"
A high-function AI had a duty to provide exactly the information its user requested. And yet JIN's attitude was so willful it was hard to believe he was an AI at all.
Could this be a suit the rebels smuggled aboard?
No serial number. No model designation. The ethics code and safety locks appeared to have been disabled, and he refused to obey even her — someone who was effectively his superior. Given that he had been hidden away in some random place rather than the armory, it was a plausible hypothesis. If so, identifying what he was and how dangerous he might be took priority over everything else.
— Shhhk!
Even as the air hissed out of the interior, Sera let out a small sigh of relief. The view that opened as the suit's core split apart was a place she knew very well.
"Where is this?"
It was not the room where she had met JIN and fought the mutant. The relief of having survived had lasted only a moment; nearly an hour had passed since then, spent stumbling half-dazed through the corridors.
"For someone who ignores me so thoroughly, you can't even tell at a glance?"
The suit's ability to never run out of oxygen was certainly remarkable — but so was the sheer force of will that had carried Sera's wounded body all the way back to base.
"This is my hideout. A very fine one."
Hoping JIN might revise whatever low opinion he had formed of her, she flipped the switch. Cool white light spilled down along her neatly arranged bangs and brightened the world.
*
There is one thing that always appears in the apocalypse novels and movies that have been popular for ages.
The shelter. Not "shell-ter" — shelter.
A safe zone where the protagonist can hole up from the zombies, or hold an edge over other survivors. Crack open a status window and you can even tear into some fried chicken in your little safe house!
They say there's always a way out even if the sky falls — and while I hadn't exactly been expecting fried chicken, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't hoped for something.
On a city-scale colony ship, there had to be better options than a studio apartment, a school rooftop, or a basement bunker. And Sera wasn't some civilian — she was a soldier, a veteran who had already survived years aboard the Hermes.
"Well? There is nowhere safer than this in the entire area."
And yet.
Far from a fortified safe house, the place she had been living in was nothing more than an airlock barely three pyeong across. A battered old mattress dragged in from somewhere and assorted junk lay scattered wherever they had fallen. Ordinary space suits — not a combat model like me — hung on the wall alongside a few empty oxygen tanks. Water dripped steadily from a cracked corner of the ceiling where a pipe must have ruptured. The single tin can set beneath it was apparently the only source of drinking water.
"You may not know this, JIN, but not just anyone can become an Imperial officer. I, in particular, always ranked at the top of every intelligence assessment!"
And the person living in the middle of this squalor seemed rather proud of herself. Well — it was certainly a long way from the kind of idea just anyone would have. This place had never been designed for habitation in the first place.
An airlock.
Wasn't that the compartment that went hiss and opened whenever spaceships docked in the movies?
I couldn't not ask why she was living somewhere like this.
"Is there a particular reason you established a hideout in a passage that connects directly to the exterior? There is no escape route, and any breach in the hull would suck you straight into space."
"Hmph. Why don't you try figuring it out yourself?"
"Adjusting evaluation of Second Lieutenant Sera Robini's intelligence downwa—"
"Aah! It's because the air in here lasted the longest!"
Startled by a voice that once again seemed to be teasing her, Sera cried out. I was starting to get a handle on how to deal with her.
"This is a pressurization chamber for equalizing the pressure differential between exploration craft and the Hermes. Its Life-Conditioning System runs on an independent circuit. It also has a sterilization function, so the risk of contaminants entering from outside is low."
Hearing the explanation, I could understand it to a degree.
Space is an extreme environment. You can't live in it, stand in it, or even breathe in it. The moment so much as one of a ship's systems fails, the difficulty of survival climbs exponentially. The rampaging mutants and leftover rebels were problems, sure — but given enough time, one of the greatest threats of all would be oxygen. If the air-circulation network known as the Life-Conditioning System went down, the only thing left was death by asphyxiation.
Fortunately, an airlock that had to maintain internal pressure had kept receiving oxygen even after the main systems went offline.
"However, when we arrived, the oxygen level here was vanishingly low. The current atmospheric composition was established by this unit."
"The airlock's Life-Conditioning System failed not long ago. That was why I was out searching for a new place when I found you."
Sera climbed out of the suit, opened a crate in the corner, and pulled out a roll of duct tape. Then she stepped up onto my powered-down chassis and began sealing the exhaust vent in the ceiling.
"The air won't circulate anymore, so I have to keep the oxygen from leaking out."
What she did next, still up on her toes after fully covering the hole, caught me somewhat off guard.
She started taking her clothes off, one piece at a time.
"——."
"?"
I was so startled a tiny beep nearly escaped me — but Sera herself was perfectly calm. Come to think of it, she had no reason to stand on ceremony in front of what was, to her, nothing more than a combat suit.
She stripped away the heavy outer layer and the torn long sleeves, and through the thin camisole her pale shoulders came into view. Studying the deep gash below one of them, Sera swallowed hard as if steeling herself, then rummaged through the crate.
"JIN, hold here for me. The wound must not pull open."
Medical stapler in hand, she climbed onto me and slid her right arm into the open suit. With the front still open, she used only that arm to brace her injured left, drew a deep breath, and pressed the stapler down onto the wound.
— Psshk!
"Kh…!"
A pained moan slipped through her clenched teeth. The pain must have been considerable — her upper body jerked hard for a brief instant.
We weren't exactly on good terms yet, but watching someone else suffer was hardly enjoyable. And yet, strangely, I couldn't look away from a sight that would normally have made me turn aside from the cruelty of it.
The dew beading at the corners of her eyes as she gasped and trembled. The wound starting to bleed again from the rough stitching. Something like thirst — an instinctive craving — stirred awake.
The thought that I should help her tangled with that strange impulse, and my body moved on its own.
— Vreee!
"Eek!?"
A mechanical arm shot out from a seam inside the combat suit and brushed past her earlobe; Sera startled and let out an adorable little scream. The silver limb, about as thick as a shower hose, moved like the head of a snake hunting for food and wiped away the blood and tears.
A sweet fragrance rising from the absorbed fluid.
This was power. The one energy source I needed to stay alive.
Having grasped that fact once more, I decided to finish treating her first — and quickly.
— Clack, clack!
Instead of the sharp combat gauntlets, restraint-like rings emerged from the inner lining and coiled around Sera's forearm. Suddenly finding part of her body bound, she thrashed her legs in open panic. In the meantime I gently — but without hesitation — took the stapler from her hand, brought it to the wound, and asked:
"Shall I suture the wound?"
"W-wait a moment, what on earth is this?"
"Requesting authorization for medical treatment."
"JIN…!?"
Among the mechanical arms that had drawn close to her face, one carried a round lens like an endoscopic camera. Watching her through it, I put up another message.
"This unit does not disregard Second Lieutenant Sera Robini's wishes."
At those words, her struggling stopped cold. Her expression shifted into something complicated. She looked back and forth between the rings binding her arm and the mechanical limbs steadily wiping away blood — and the strength gradually drained from her body.
"I thought nothing in life could surprise me anymore…"
"Same here."
As if anything could top discovering mechanical arms shooting out of my own body. The only thing more surprising than this would be my favorite baseball team actually winning the postseason. Of course, even if the world ended, that would never happen.
"Do it."
After several steadying breaths, the eyes fixed on me filled once more with a deep, resolute light. That light — which had vanished when she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain she knew was coming — returned for an instant, settling beautifully as her quiet voice came with it.
"And… from now on, when you address me, just Sera is fine."
*
Treatment. Rest. Sleep.
A sequence of actions I had no need for as a machine — and that were essential for Sera.
In the dark pressurization chamber, where the drip of water rang out with unusual clarity, Sera slept soundly on the cheap mattress with its springs poking through. The moment she opened her eyes, she said to me:
"JIN. We will have to abandon this place."
I was thinking the same thing. This airlock was useless now. It was falling apart in every direction, and with the Life-Conditioning System dead, the sooner we moved somewhere else the better.
"I don't mean we leave immediately. We still need to find a new safe location, and there is a great deal of material we will need to restock."
Muttering something about starting with reconnaissance, she began gathering her things — then suddenly leaned in toward me and asked:
"Aren't you pleased? This is what you asked of me at the very beginning."
She prodded around my shoulder and neck as if searching for the mechanical arm that had carried the camera. Since I was watching her through the display anyway it didn't mean much, but the gesture itself was surprising.
"This unit is of the same opinion."
"Could you not change that self-reference as well?"
"I am of the same opinion."
"Mm."
Only then did she nod in satisfaction and stretch, just a little. As her arms extended, the undershirt rode up and briefly revealed the beautiful curve of her waist and lower stomach.
It had been a little over twenty-four hours since I met Sera, and I still had not seen her eat a single thing. If there had been food in an airlock the size of two bathroom stalls, there was no way I would have missed it.
"Sera."
"Yes?"
I checked the still-unselected trait window for the Evolution Algorithm and my remaining power, then spoke. She had been gathering her clothes; hearing her name spoken for what felt like the first time in ages, she tilted her head cutely.