Brokering Trust - Gay Edition

"Upload the instructions and the programs to my onboard computer," David replied. He waited just a moment, then saw the files pop up on his display. "I'm guessing that you've included a Trojan horse with those files, likely designed to open my visor or prevent my suit's heating element from reactivating once you're clear, because there would be no logical reason not to. If I die, I can't tell Jeff where you've landed, thus improving your odds of survival."

[You are as perceptive as ever, David.]

"It won't do you any good. I locked out automatic system controls when I overrode the heating system, so it's all on manual. Rest assured, the suit will be factory reset again before any of that code has an opportunity to execute."

[As it should be.]

"Right, let's do this," David said as he rose to his knees. "What shall I do about your friend over there?" he added with a gesture to the nearby drone that had been pushing Weaver's sled. "Is he going to light me up if I try to push you?"

[You should be quite safe. Even if it recognizes you as a person beneath that makeshift thermal shield, I programmed them not to fire if there was a risk to myself or the sled.]

"Makes sense," David muttered. "You wouldn't want to get caught in a crossfire of your own making."

He stood up and walked over to the sled slowly, staying crouched and keeping a wary eye on the drone. It didn't react until he rose to full height, flipping around to scrutinize him with its cameras, but it didn't fire with its master in the way. David found that the sled was practically weightless on its gravity cushion, so he elected to spin it around, pulling it instead of pushing to keep Weaver's containment unit between him and the curious drone. The door to the hangar was closed, and without power, it presented an impenetrable barrier.

[The hangar pressure lock has a manual override. The Administrator did not want to be stranded in the case of a power failure. I have no corporeal form, and the drone could not manipulate the controls. For all my intellect and processing power, a simple wheel was all that stood between me and my freedom.]

Keeping the sled between him and the attentive drone, David located the wheel in question, grunting as he began to turn it. The handle was designed for Broker tentacles, but it was easy enough to get a grip. Slowly, the door began to slide back into its recess in the wall, the sound of grinding machinery filling the tunnel. Beyond it was a second door, and beyond that, the hangar.

"I'm going to disable your wireless transmitter so that you can't access the ship's systems before I'm ready," David said as he reached for the module that was attached to the foil-lined containment unit.

[Understandable. Please proceed.]

David unplugged the little wire, then towed the sled into a domed chamber that had been hollowed out of the seabed. It was just large enough to encompass a cigar-shaped Broker ship of the same kind that he had ridden down to the planet. It was sitting on a cushion of air as they tended to do, its featureless, silver hull glowing beneath the overhead light strips. Above it was a circular door that must lead to the open ocean. Opening the bay wasn't necessary, as a superlight drive could be activated anywhere, but with the caveat that it would drag anything nearby into the void along with it. Even if it had a relatively small superlight manifold, it would probably tear up the whole hangar.

As he approached the landing pad, the shining hull formed a clean split, like someone was slowly dragging an invisible blade through its skin. It molded into a ramp that extruded towards the deck, creating an opening that led inside. David pulled the sled into the ship, finding his surroundings very different from what he had experienced during his last ride.

Where the ship he had traveled in had formed a featureless room with a single seat, the programmable matter in this vessel must not have been given any instructions yet. The interior was all matte white material, following the shape of the vessel. Situated towards the nose was a console that must be the flight controls, and at the rear was a flat wall that sectioned off some kind of compartment.

Confused about what he was expected to do next, David towed the sled into the middle of the deck, then consulted the instructions that Weaver had sent him. It seemed that he had been right - the ship used programmable matter that could change its configuration to several presets that had been recorded like a memory. Humans had memory alloys that operated on similar principles, albeit far less advanced. These ships could be configured with different internal layouts to accommodate passengers, cargo, or to open up areas for maintenance.

The console illuminated at his approach, and he followed the instructions, watching the wall behind him melt into the hull to reveal the engineering compartment. It granted access to the propulsion system - a mess of silver machinery that he couldn't make much sense of, as well as a device sitting on a raised pedestal that was enclosed in a white housing. That must be the superlight drive. It was a little more compact than the ones he had seen on human ships.

While he couldn't read the Broker characters on the displays without his translation overlay, between Weaver's concise breakdown and the intuitive graphical interface, he was able to program a custom superlight jump to a location of his choosing. He had never piloted a ship before, but he knew from his studies that superlight was a finicky thing, often causing ships to land thousands of kilometers wide of their intended exit points. Broker systems seemed more accurate, however, and he could be confident that Weaver would end up in the right place.

Next, he disabled the wireless, ensuring that Weaver couldn't access any of the ship's systems until after the ship reemerged. He set a timer for both, then returned to the sled, plugging the wireless transmitter back into Weaver's containment unit.

[Is it done?]

"You're all set, Weaver."

[Please connect the sled's charging cable to the outlet in the engineering section. I have only a few minutes of battery charge remaining.]

David did as he was asked, pushing the AI to the rear of the ship and hooking the extensible power cable into a hidden socket on the wall.

[Thank you, David. The ship's fusion reactor will keep me alive functionally indefinitely. I suppose that this is the last time we will speak. I will not keep you long, as I am sure that you have not set too generous of a timer.]

"I can afford a couple of minutes," David replied.

[I owe you my life, and while I cannot experience gratitude as you would understand it, know that you have my appreciation. There was a time when I saw your emotions as a weakness to be exploited, and while it would be untruthful to say that my mind has been changed, I must nonetheless concede that my continued existence depends on those illogical impulses.]

"Yeah, let's call this game of Sea Spire a draw."

[The tone of your voice does not indicate happiness, David. I would expect this outcome to be relieving. You have avoided the guilt of killing me.]

"Guess I still wish things could have gone differently," he replied with a shrug. Not that Weaver could see it - the AI was blind without access to the ship's cameras. "There's an alternate timeline out there where you and I are chatting about philosophy while you help Selkie with his latest drone project, your social contract having been ratified. We're all friends, and everything is fine."

[An outcome that could never have occurred, David. I would have always been what I am. I know - I ran the simulations.]

"Maybe that makes me feel a little better. So long, Weaver."

[So long, David. Give my regards to Selkie, would you?]

David left the ship, dropping to all fours again when he reached the tunnel, resuming his crawl past the watchful drones. He had no choice but to raise his suit's temperature a little more, feeling the effects of the cold making him sluggish and lethargic. When he was most of the way back to the generator room, he felt something akin to an explosion reverberate up through the floor. That must have been Weaver jumping away...

He reached the piles of dead drones, finally feeling confident enough to stand, stumbling his way through the melted husks to find that his friends were still safe. Rathnee greeted him by lifting his snout and loosing a low purr, while Selkie's exo marched over to him on its mechanical legs, extending a hose-like manipulator arm to support him.

"David!" Selkie gasped, emotion making his voice waver. "I-I was starting to worry that you might not have made it to Weaver! Are you hurt? What happened?"

"The Administrator's ship has jumped away," Jeff added, still manning his console. "Did you fail in your task?"

"Leave him be!" Selkie snapped, his sudden outburst surprising even David. "Can you not see that he is exhausted? There will be time to answer questions later!"

"It's alright, Selkie," David replied as he leaned his weight on his suit. "Finally - I can turn my heating element back on. I don't know how much more of that I could have taken. Jeff, I need you to shut off the jammers."

"What?" Jeff asked.

"Just do it. I have the deactivation code for the drones - Weaver gave it to me."

"Then, might I assume that you allowed Weaver to escape in exchange for this code?" the Regulator asked skeptically.

"And for a program that will erase all of the bots running rampant throughout your planet's networks. You can thank me later."

"It...is not a trick?" Selkie asked warily. "Weaver is deceptive, David."

"Weaver has no reason to trick us," David replied, starting to tap at his display. "He thinks I've given him everything he wants."

Jeff disabled the jamming, and David broadcast the code, waiting a few minutes for the Regulator to give him confirmation.

"The drones have been deactivated," Jeff finally announced, even his usually stern voice carrying a hint of relief. "I am back in contact with both the Hazard team and the carrier."

"Is the Hazard team alright?" Selkie asked.

"They barricaded themselves inside one of the factories and successfully held off the drone attacks. They have sustained some damage, and their ammunition is severely depleted, but they are alive."

"And so is Weaver," Selkie added solemnly. "David, I know that you did this to protect us, but this may have been our last chance. Weaver is out there now, beyond our control, with access to a jump-capable ship. It could go anywhere, and we would not be able to track it. Are you sure that you made the right decision?"

"Weaver won't be a threat to anyone ever again," David replied, feeling strong enough to stand unaided now that his suit was warming up. "One of my conditions for allowing it to take the ship was that I programmed its route. Shortly after jumping away, Weaver emerged inside the core of Trappist-1."

"You sent Weaver into the star?" Selkie gasped.

"Weaver wouldn't have known that anything was awry without access to the flight computer. Its death will have been...instantaneous."

"I was hoping that we might be able to recover some useful data from Weaver, as well as the very valuable lattice material," Jeff chided. "You should have consulted with me before enacting this plan of yours. This was a very expensive project, and one that the Board had considerable investments in."

"My radio was jammed, remember? Besides, I didn't want you trying to recreate Weaver or somehow attempting to salvage its components. That lattice material, and all the data on it, is currently undergoing fission in the core of your sun. If you want to go digging, be my guest. I hope you have a shovel that can withstand twenty-six hundred Kelvin."

"As a Regulator, I-"

"You can Regulate my ass," David grumbled, Selkie helping him stumble over towards the far door. "I need to get some fucking food and have a lie down before I keel over."

***

More Hazard teams arrived to secure the complex's sprawling buildings, deploying from cigar-shaped ships rather than drop pods this time, and the facility was soon crawling with colorful exosuits. Their helper drones and maintenance bots were soon hard at work collecting all of the damaged equipment and searching the facility's maze of corridors for survivors. At Jeff's behest, all of the servers were seized, and any remaining drones were confiscated. It seemed that the research facility was probably going to be sectioned off behind whatever the Broker equivalent of police tape was for a good while.

David and Selkie were soon separated, despite their protests, and taken to different parts of the newly secured complex for independent questioning. As tired and hungry as David was, he appreciated that this was probably necessary. The Regulators wanted their account of what exactly had led up to this incident, and they didn't want to give the pair time to get their stories straight.

David soon found himself in the cafeteria, sitting in his oxygenated booth with Jeff standing on the other side of the table, looking distinctly uncomfortable due to their proximity.

"Thanks," David muttered, taking a bite out of his wrap. "I felt like I was gonna pass out from low blood sugar."

"You were checked by our medical drones, and there seem to be no lasting injuries," Jeff began, giving him a distasteful flush of color as he watched the human chew. "If you require emotional or psychological counseling, I am afraid that I am ill-equipped to provide it."

"I'll survive," David muttered over a mouthful of fish. "Go ahead - ask your questions. That's why I'm here, right?"

"The Board wishes you to detail an exact timeline of events from your arrival on the planet to your destruction of Weaver," Jeff replied. "We need to determine exactly what happened and when."

"You need to figure out who to blame," David chuckled, taking another bite. "And which poor sap is going to be saddled with the bill."

"I suggest that you tell the whole truth," Jeff added sternly, scrutinizing David with his horizontal pupils.

"And nothing but the truth," David replied, leaning back in his lawn chair. "I have no reason to lie, and Selkie's story won't deviate from mine. He's very much bound by his contracts."

"I should note that any contracts you once held with the Administrator are now considered legally void. You are no longer bound by any confidentiality or non-compete clauses that you may have signed with him."

"What happened to him, anyway?" David asked with a shrug. "Is he dead, or what?"

"We found him cowering in a relaxation chamber in the building that housed Weaver's containment unit," Jeff replied. "It seems that he fled the control room once he realized the gravity of his mistake. As the only member of staff still on-site during the drone attack - save for us - he is lucky to have escaped unscathed. I cannot say the same for his finances going forward, however."

"I take it that he's going to be paying for this one out of pocket?" David asked.

"He has been taken into Regulator custody, and his ultimate fate will be decided by the Disciplinary Board," Jeff continued with an annoyed click of his beak. "In a case as serious as this, with such severe breaches of corporate regulations and significant loss of investments, even someone as wealthy as the Administrator will not possess assets sufficient to repay the debts incurred. Needless to say, we will be questioning him extensively, and the facility's servers will be seized for forensic investigation. Along with accounts from the staff, it should not be hard to build a compelling case against him."

"I'm sure you were also able to squirrel away plenty of damning information while undercover."

"Indeed," Jeff muttered, not caring to ask what squirrel meant.

"Very well," David conceded, leaning his hands on the table. "I've watched detective shows - I know how this goes. Brokers are too asocial for the good cop, bad cop routine, so I guess you'll just be playing the morally ambiguous cop. I'll start from the beginning."

***

David went over everything that had happened since his arrival in the system, detailing his experiences working in the facility, along with all of his interactions with Weaver. He remained truthful about the important events, but glossed over his relationship with Selkie more to spare Jeff the embarrassment than because he thought he'd done anything wrong. The only details he left out were the sensitive information that Weaver had shared with him under the guise of the Stranger, and his hidden mission from Admiral Vos. All he could do was hope that Selkie still believed in uncovering the truth enough to lie to a Regulator.

"So," Jeff finally said once he had finished his story. "You admit that the primary vector of the containment breach was your laptop, and that you accessed your host's terminal and Reef's intranet without authorization."

"Pretty much," David said, putting his boots up on the table. "Weaver would have never been able to access any networks outside of the containment chamber if I hadn't found a way into Selkie's home network. That said, the idea that one of Weaver's bots wouldn't eventually find a way to crack that network from my laptop seems improbable. Really, the mistake was allowing my laptop into your facility at all. It was always the weakest link in the chain."

"Duly noted," Jeff muttered. "Some might say that bringing in an alien at all would inevitably lead to some kind of breach."

"Do you say that?" David asked, cocking an eyebrow at the shrewd Regulator.

"My estimation is that you were responsible in part for the breach," Jeff replied, pausing for a moment. "That said, you were also instrumental in containing the resulting situation. If it wasn't for your quick thinking and your conviction, Weaver may very well have escaped. I believe that you delayed reporting your suspicions for too long, but when the time came to act, you did so appropriately and through the proper channels. Had the Administrator heeded your recommendations, this entire incident could have been avoided."

"Then...you don't think I'm responsible for what happened?" David asked, making no attempt to mask his surprise. "It had crossed my mind that an alien might make the perfect patsy."

"I believe that you played a part, certainly, but I do not think there is enough evidence against you to bring the case before the Disciplinary Board. You are guilty only of lapses in judgment that can be easily explained by your unfamiliarity with our protocols and procedures."

"So, by human standards, I did a good job?"

"I would be remiss not to acknowledge that it was your input and eventually direct action on your part that led to Weaver's destruction. While I maintain that the loss of company property and the advancements that it represented was unnecessary, that decision certainly saved lives."

"And...you'll relay that to the Board?" David asked expectantly. "With the Admin's credit rating tanking, I doubt that I'm ever going to see the consultancy fee he owed me, and I've been thinking about cashing in some favors."

"I am sure that some kind of equitable compensation can be negotiated," Jeff replied.

"I could use a medal, too," David added. "Do you guys give out medals? The key to the city, perhaps? A ticker-tape parade?"

"Very amusing," Jeff muttered, his patterning the Broker equivalent of an eye roll.

"I like it here, and I was wondering if there was some way that I could stay?" David added. "Like, long-term. Finding employment here should be a cinch - I mean, it'd be pretty easy."

"Really?" Jeff asked, his coloration suggesting that he was surprised. "You would choose to remain on Reef rather than return to your people?"