Adrift on the Pioneer Ship Icarus (5)

The moment I heard Nia's voice, I froze mid-step. After everything we'd been through, I'd learned there was no reason not to listen to her. Besides, I could sense the urgency bleeding through her tone.

Her optical sensors spun rapidly. Through the visor's holographic display, a new route snapped into place.

I frowned. "Sector B-12? Nia, that's a sealed zone."

I remembered the warning message I'd seen when I first boarded this ship. Power and oxygen were supposed to be cut off.

"A large number of heavy armored patrol drones, QZ-22s, have been redeployed to the route leading to Sector A-7. With our current armament, I cannot guarantee a flawless victory. Even in the event of success, the engagement would consume excessive time."

Her words made me scowl. I had less than two hours remaining. On top of that, I'd been noticing the ship's deteriorating condition for a while now. Every monitor we passed kept flashing endless error windows.

"Fine. You wouldn't suggest it unless there was a way through, right?"

"Affirmative. Please activate the portable atmospheric generator cylinder module acquired from the exploration support room. Utilizing its atmosphere generation function will allow survival in oxygen-devoid sectors. Please hurry, Master."

Even in her words, I could detect an undercurrent of restrained impatience. Reading that tension, I stopped arguing. I adjusted my tactical visor and pulled the protective mask from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its housing beneath it, sealing it tightly over my chin and mouth. Next, I activated the cylindrical module locked into my shoulder socket. I connected the supply tube extending from the module to the mask's side port. It clicked firmly into place.

Click. Whirr.

A pleasant mechanical hum followed, and cool air flooded into the mask. The ship's unpleasant stench vanished in an instant. I still couldn't wrap my head around how such a small cylinder could generate oxygen. What kind of absurd technology was this?

After walking a short distance, the door leading to Sector B-12 appeared ahead.

"I will initiate decompression procedures before entry."

A sharp hiss filled the air as the corridor's atmosphere vented out. Fortunately, I could still breathe thanks to the portable atmospheric generator module.

In absolute silence, the massive metal door slid smoothly aside. Beyond it lay complete darkness, but the visor made everything perfectly visible.

I nodded. Not that she could hear me in this vacuum anyway.

All I could hear was the mechanical hiss of oxygen feeding through the mask and my own rough breathing. The lack of sound made everything feel slightly disorienting.

I followed the fluorescent guide line Nia had projected across the bottom of my vision. Since there was no need for stealth, I increased the output on my tactical harness's exoskeleton and sprinted down the vacuum corridor at high speed.

Most of the sections were intact, but occasionally I had to cross areas with visible cracks. Those places held the most gruesome remnants. Countless corpses and shattered androids painted a vivid picture of the horrific battle that must have taken place here.

Every time we passed through one of these battle-scarred zones, Nia would flash red warning markers across my visor, urging me to move even a second faster. She seemed unwilling to let me waste even 0.1 seconds glancing at the wreckage. In some sectors the artificial gravity generators had failed completely, causing my body to float weightlessly with every step. Thanks to Nia's guidance, I managed to navigate the damaged sections without incident.

At last we reached the opposite exit and went through another decompression cycle. The sealed bulkhead opened, outside air rushed in, and my blocked ears popped as the ship's ambient white noise flooded back.

I pressed a button on the visor to retract the mask and continued down the corridor. At its end, I finally stood before the entrance to the residential sector—our next destination.

"This place is a mess too."

The residential sector held plenty of corpses and android wreckage as well. The tragic part was that nearly all of them were unarmed.

Approximately one and a half hours remained. We'd made good time, but it still wasn't exactly comfortable.

"This sector's bigger than I expected... Mark some rooms worth looting."

"...Understood."

Nia hesitated slightly—unusual for her—before beginning to tag suitable areas for scavenging. The central kitchen, communal medical center, and administrative support center.

"Any hostile units inside?"

Her optical lenses spun as she ran calculations.

"...Scan results indicate no active hostile entities."

"...Why?"

That answer actually made me uneasy.

Her lenses whirred again. "A large-scale redeployment of security forces has been detected. All available assets under Argos control have been reassigned to the ship's central section, focusing on a specific zone."

So they hadn't pulled the troops to attack me, but to protect something else. What the hell were they guarding?

"There is insufficient time for speculation. Master, please focus solely on resupply. I strongly recommend proceeding without delay."

Nia cut me off, her tone insistent. Her constantly spinning optical lenses and the hint of desperation in her voice stirred my suspicions, but I swallowed them and nodded.

I tore through the central kitchen and medical center like a storm. When Nia highlighted the right cabinets, high-grade supplies and tools spilled out. The last place I headed was the administrative support center. The situation there was no different—android and human corpses lay scattered everywhere.

One body in particular caught my eye. Unlike the others who had died facing the door, this one had dragged itself desperately down the corridor, leaving deep scratches in the floor. Its fingertips were stained with dried blood, frozen rigid, and its grip looked like it had been determined never to let go of whatever it held.

I carefully pried the cold fingers open one by one. A keycard dropped out with a soft clack.

Following the body's path with my eyes, I spotted a heavy steel safe sitting on a dais at the far end of the room. Faint holographic text glowed weakly on its upper surface, covered in dust.

When I held the keycard to the reader, a heavy mechanical sound rang out as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the safe's gears engaged and turned.

Hiss. Clunk!

Inside lay a single rifle and a chestplate.

"It is the V-7 High-Output Light Rifle," Nia explained.

The rifle lived up to her description, its clean, linear futuristic design radiating heavy presence. The Nailer was decent, but this was a genuine weapon meant for killing. It would be far more powerful. The downside was that it used a different battery magazine standard than the multi-purpose battery packs I'd been using. And after thoroughly searching the safe, I only found two of those specialized magazines.

Tasting bitter disappointment, I pulled out the next item.

I pressed the chestplate against my torso. It clicked into the socket. While the battery drain for its shield was enormous, who cared? It could block bullets.

"Resupply of the residential sector is complete, Master. I recommend proceeding immediately without further delay."

Listening to Nia's urging, I checked the timer in the corner of my vision.

Nearly an hour and fifteen minutes left. In just fifteen short minutes, I'd swept through only the most valuable rooms in this vast residential sector like a hurricane.

I mentally reviewed the ship's map and calculated our remaining time properly. From here to our target—the cybernetic maintenance bay—was about fifteen minutes. Another ten or so from the maintenance bay to the external escape hatch. Mathematically, we still had plenty of time.

Yet the reason I was rushing like this was simple: Nia was rushing far too much.

When I'd first met her on this ship, I'd thought she was just a cold, dry machine. But that wasn't the case. This android surprisingly possessed emotions similar to humans. The way she'd complained when her head bumped into something, the way she'd sounded genuinely pleased when I obtained the visor, saying she'd been waiting for it. The way she reacted when we passed those gruesome corpses.

She definitely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠felt things.

At some point, her behavior had become noticeably urgent. The kind of impatience and anxiety someone would show when they had a concrete mission they needed to complete as quickly as possible after recovering their body.

I didn't know why Nia was in such a hurry, or what specific circumstances drove her. But precisely because I didn't know, I matched her pace without complaint.

She had done her best for me. The least I could do was create the best possible situation for her in return. Even if our relationship had started as a mere transaction, there was still such a thing as basic decency, wasn't there?

I secured the V-7 rifle on my back so it wouldn't shake, locking it firmly to the harness panel. Then, after one deep breath, I broke into a full sprint toward the dark passage Nia had already opened for me.