The Watcher [Alien Nation #1]

Chapter 2

NEW MESSAGE FROM DR. L. ANDERSON.

Avery. Just reminding you of our appointment in 25 min. Don't be late again please.

Avery groaned as she woke, dismissing the text flashing over her closed eyes with an irritated twitch. She let the noise and bustle of Docking Bay 10 fade back into focus, the routine of adjusting her audio filters helping her mind emerge form the fog of sleep.

Sure, Anderson had thought she needed infrared vision, weird glowy bits she couldn't turn off, and a fucking intranet hotspot in her heart, but it had never occurred to him to give her some sort of privacy mode.

She opened her eyes and flinched at the bright light of simulated afternoon, quickly altering her visual settings to compensate. Her back hurt from being hunched over in that SESHET core all day followed by a cat nap on top of a shipping crate, her head hurt from hours wired into an AI that refused to cooperate, and there was a scratch on her left optical lens.

All in all, she felt like shit.

At least the eyeball scratch was something Anderson could fix. She unfolded herself from where she had been sleeping in her spot between the wall and a smaller crate stacked on top of the first. That little cubbyhole had become like a second home to her over the years, and though she had no official claim to it, it was undeniably hers, and there were plenty of marks to show it. The pile of pillows and blankets; discarded snack wrappers and a stash for later; graffiti scrawled into the crate with the screwdriver in her finger. None of the dock workers would dare move that crate, not that Bay 10 was much more than a scrap and repair yard anyway.

It wasn't that Avery didn't have a home. Sometimes she even slept there, but most of the time it was empty except for the ghosts and the memories.

Sometimes she wondered what would happen to the tiny flat at the top of the human habitation sector when the Commonwealth finally opened its gates to all the new arrivals from Earth. They couldn't let a home stand empty. Would she be kicked out, or have to find a room-mate? Not that anyone would want to live with her.

She stretched and rolled her shoulders, trying to soothe the ache where white flesh met black carbon fiber. She still hadn't finished working on that AI. Aquila, her name was. Stubborn bitch. Every time she'd tried to install the update, Aquila had flagged her as malware and thrown her out, and each time felt like ramming her head into a wall.

Maybe that was the idea. Human-AI interfacing was still experimental; maybe Aquila had sensed that Avery wasn't just a computer trying to force an update. Maybe the pain had been intentional.

Avery shuddered. Some of these SESHETs were getting too smart, and not all of them were as nice as Cass. Interfacing with her felt like slipping on a pair of warm, fluffy socks. It had always been that way, though, even before Avery had been absently talking to her and the AI had talked back. In a hangar full of faceless SHESET programs, all with identical voices and attitudes, Cass had always been different, somehow.

Another message notification flashed in the corner of her vision. Speak of the devil-she'd expected Anderson again, but instead the sender read 'COS Phoenix.' That meant Cass. Erri always used their private channel, and Agent Julia Trentino never bothered to talk to her unless through Cass.

She accepted the message, opening a voice call.

"Avery," said Cass. "We're on our way back."

"Already?" Avery leaned back against the crate, arms folded. "You're not due back for two days. How am I meant to organise a welcome party now?"

"I don't know why we're coming back. She wouldn't say."