Mr. Friendly

Iain’s bunk was three of eight, room 297 on the eighty-first deck of the great ship, The Patroller. There were four beds on each side of the room with enough space for two crewpersons to stand shoulder to shoulder between them. A sink and toilet occupied the far wall. The rooms were practical, not intended for privacy.

Relaxing after his shift, Iain lay on his bed with the sensory shield up. Not quite ready to fall asleep, he used his bio-key to open the small box affixed to the end of his bunk. Every crewperson was entitled to their individual berth-box. They were virtually indestructible. The Conglomerate felt that everyone should be able to keep their personal items without fear of loss.

Iain’s berth-box did not hold much. Most of what he’d considered his prized possessions were lost when his colony was destroyed by marauding Andellarians. Instead of dwelling on the painful past (the day he became an orphan) he pulled out a few ancient photographs of his ancestors. The pictures were over one thousand years old, re-preserved every generation. Iain knew that the archivists would love to have them, but they were his treasure. A memory of a world that he never knew.

His favourite photo was of a man, a bull and a young boy. The man seemed to be looking right at Iain. He appeared content and proud even though his clothes were dusty and his boots were scuffed. The boy had his arms around the bull’s neck, hugging him tightly while laughing with pure, unfettered joy. The bull was dark red with a white face and tremendously large hooves. He didn’t seem to mind the attention. The back of the photo had a hand-written caption:

Dad, Jake and Mr. Friendly ‘95

Written in a time when humanity had only needed two digits to describe their year. Written in a time when being outdoors was commonplace and farming was a real way of life. Iain secured his treasures and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a time when a boy could be friends with a giant animal.

The chimes woke Iain from his rest. He stretched and prepared for his upcoming shift. The crewpersons worked sixteen-hour days with eight hours of downtime. After every seven days, they earned a full twenty-four-hour rest day. Iain was on shift seven and he looked forward to the completion of this shift.

Iain caught the tube to the weapons vault. He was a Weapons Tech - Junior Grade and was assigned to the preventative maintenance team for the ship’s warheads. The warheads were equipped with individual propulsion systems, communications, targeting equipment and some even had their own AI. As any good technician knows, the more complicated it is, the more likely it is to break.

Thus the need for preventative inspections. There were dailies to be carried out, which only took a few minutes, all the way up to the six-monthers, which took a full seven-day of dedicated work. Iain painstakingly recorded every action taken on the checklist to ensure the warheads were maintained in peak condition. It wasn’t the job he would have chosen for himself, but the Conglomerate’s aptitude test proved that this was the role he was best suited for. Iain took his mandated fitness and wellness breaks and worked until his shift was over.

His workspace tidied with tools returned and the records logged out, Iain left to start his rest day. He was tired from the shift. As he lay in his bunk, his thoughts strayed not on the past, but on the upcoming hours. He would get to spend the day in hydroponics, and he would get to spend time with her.

Relationships weren’t exactly forbidden on the ship, although they were not encouraged. Things had changed drastically about ten years ago. The senior grades told Iain that there was no time for fitness and wellness, no scheduled rest days, certainly no fraternization, and they didn’t even have hydroponics!

The hydroponics section was the most wonderful part of the ship. Everyone benefited from the fresh fruits and vegetables available in the mess halls, they were a welcome addition to the protein cubes. The oxygen produced by the plants relieved pressure on the life support system. They did take up a lot of room, but the Conglomerate’s weapons designers worked to make the warheads more effective. Trading warheads for greenery felt appropriate to Iain.

Asha had noticed Iain loitering around the hydroponics bay a few months ago. She shooed him away and reminded him that stealing from the plants was a serious offence and she would not hesitate to report him. Iain stuttered something incomprehensible and ran off. He couldn’t stay away for long, the plants gave him comfort that he didn’t find anywhere else on the ship.

The next time Asha spotted Iain in hydroponics, she watched as he walked along the rows of the plants. Sometimes he would lean forward to smell a bloom or a leaf, but he never touched them. This time, she approached him carefully and introduced herself.

While Iain was proficient at his role, Asha was passionate about being a Hydroponicist-Junior Grade. She was nearly ready to compete for her Intermediate rating and Iain proved the perfect audience for her to demonstrate her knowledge.

They quickly fell into a routine. They spent every rest day of Iain’s together in the hydroponics lab. Asha taught Iain about the different plants and he helped her with her work as he shared his dreams about living a life dirt-side and working the land.

Iain hurried off to hydroponics. He burst through the door and spotted Asha deep in conversation with another Junior Grade hydroponicist. Her brow was furrowed and she walked away shaking her head.

“Asha!” Iain called out a greeting.

She brightened when she saw him, a smile wiping away traces of distraction. “Is it your rest day already? Come, let’s go see the tomatoes, they should be ready to harvest today,” she said as she grabbed him by the hand and led him down the corridor.

The tomatoes were perfect. They set the harvester bots in amongst the tomatoes and watched them go to work. Asha worked as diligently as usual, but without the anecdotes and info-bites Iain had come to love.

“Is everything alright? You don’t seem totally yourself today,” Iain mustered the courage to ask. His palms were sweaty, he couldn’t bring himself to meet Asha’s eyes.

Asha sighed and paused for a moment as she checked the progress of one of the harvesters. “Things, things are, oh I don’t know,” she muttered. “Iain, there’s just something going on, I’m sorry I’m distracted today. It’s not you, I always enjoy your visit,” she pursed her lips, Iain wished he could see what she was thinking. “I hope that one day, you can be free to live the life you want.”

They continued in companionable silence, Iain was reassured that he wasn’t the source of Asha’s apparent consternation.

After they parted ways and Iain headed to his bunk, it occurred to him that Asha might like to see his photos. They were special and might bring her characteristic glow back up. He retrieved them and rushed back to hydroponics.

When Iain opened the door for the second time that day, Asha was once again in deep conversation with the same Junior Grade hydroponicist. Before he could call out, he heard the second crewperson state, “We’re running out of time. You’ll have to turn him or kill him.”

The words stalled Iain in his footsteps. Kill? Turn? Iain looked down at the photos clutched carefully in his hands and wondered if he really knew Asha like he thought he did. Dad and Mr. Friendly looked back at him as he questioned his own heart. Iain turned and walked out of the bay without saying a word. He would reflect on this and speak to Asha during his next rest day.

At his next shift, Iain struggled to stay focused on his task. To make matters worse, he was reprimanded by the Senior Grade on duty. Iain had neglected to properly complete the inspection record during his last shift.

“Because this is the first time you've made an error like this, we won’t record it as an infraction,” said the Senior tech, “But the regulations state that you have to redo the previous shift’s work to fully ensure no steps were missed.”

Iain bowed his head, thoroughly ashamed. He tidied his work-station, making sure to close these records properly, and he returned to the warhead he worked on last.

As Iain worked through the checklist, dutifully carrying out every activity he lingered on thoughts of Asha and the words he overheard. His heart felt heavy. An anomaly jerked him out of his melancholy and back to the job at hand. That doesn’t make any sense, he thought. The targeting software wasn’t behaving properly. He ran the check again and got the same result. The target was off, if this warhead was fired it would detonate a full ten kilometres before it reached its destination, rendering it essentially harmless.

Iain had never seen an error like this in the software before. He ran the troubleshooting program but could find no mechanical or code-related glitches. On a hunch, he combed through the source code.

There it was, the line was inserted, written intentionally. He verified the amendment log and all the blood drained from his face. He rubbed at his eyes, sure that he must be mistaken. But there it was - his own bio-key, an irrefutable record that he wrote this code.

The log was updated less than twenty-four hours ago, during his rest day. Iain was sure that he hadn’t been down here, but the bio-key could not lie. Turn, kill, the words kept running through his mind.

Iain fixed the code and continued the inspection checklist, pushing all thoughts of Asha as far as they would go. He was unsuccessful. Her face, her laughing eyes and her gentle hands remained at the forefront of his mind.

Instead of returning to his bunk at the end of his shift, Iain found himself outside the doors of the hydroponics bay. He didn’t know if Asha would be there but he couldn’t wrestle with this much longer. The regulations were clear - Iain was already in violation for not reporting the code sabotage.

The door opened and he locked eyes with Asha. Her startled expression did not compare to the betrayal he felt. She approached him and grabbed his hand, “Come with me, I will tell you everything.”

Even knowing that she would surely kill him, she was a traitorous Andellarian after all, Iain allowed himself to be led to the center of the hydroponics bay. His heart was crushed, he was no longer certain he wanted to live.

“You’re an Andellarian, aren’t you,” he said, his eyes downcast. “How did you manage to copy my bio-key? That’s supposed to be impossible.”

“No, I’m not an Andellarian, that’s not what this is about,” Asha started to explain.

“Not an Andellarian?” interrupted Iain, “Don’t lie to me! Of course you’re an Andellarian! You killed my family!” Rage erupted as Iain could no longer contain the emotions warring within. He wept uncontrollably, for the life taken from him in the past, and the destruction of the future he’d allowed himself to dream for.

Asha pulled Iain down to the ground, holding both of his hands in his. She did not act as if she was about to kill him.

“Iain, please look at me,” she spoke softly, her words cutting through his pain. “There are no Andellarians. There is only the Conglomerate.”

At this, Iain looked up sharply, his eyes wide.

“The leadership created the Andellarians to give a face to the enemy. In truth, there are only dissenting factions. We have been working within the ranks to try and change things, as outright rebellion failed miserably. All the changes over the last decade, the wellness and strict shift schedules, yes, even the hydroponics, were because people within the cause, like me, enabled small, rolling changes.

We are working to ensure that no one is exploited and that all have equal opportunity within our nation of star systems. Iain, you are trapped here, in this job, this life, because you had no other options available to you. That’s not fair, and our movement is working to change that.

Of course, like anything, the leadership still has militant factions and they use the excuse of the Andellarians to weed us out without anyone batting an eye. I’m sorry we used you, but you presented us with a prime opportunity to level the playing field and allow our ships to escape The Patroller,” finished Asha.

Iain sat with his head in his hands, what Asha said made sense, but didn’t explain one thing.

“My colony was destroyed by Andellarians. Peaceful miners attacked for no reason. Your words are pretty, but how do you explain that?” he accused.

Asha lifted his face so that his eyes would meet hers. “The truth? Iain, this will hurt. We have evidence that the Conglomerate found that the mining colonies worked too slowly. They blasted them away to get to the elements below. I am so sorry.”

Iain did not love his job, but he felt like a part of something important. He was a component of the massive machine working to rid the universe of the evil that took his family from him. If what Asha said was at all true, his own life was squandered to further the goals of the leadership who did not care if he lived or died.

“Now what?” he asked, “Where do I go from here? Are you going to kill me?”

“No, Iain, I couldn’t do that. Where you go is up to you. I’m leaving, I have a new mission. I can help you to escape, you can stay and carry on as you always have, or you can work towards the cause,” stated Asha.

Escape? But not with Asha, he realized. He was their Mr. Friendly. A useful tool, worthwhile of affection, but still a tool. Was that something he could live with?

Iain got to his feet, wiped his hands on his pants. “I saw the code. I could keep doing that. For a while anyway. Somebody will notice eventually.”

“And when they do, use this comms signal and we will get you out. And here, I was saving these for you, for your life when you get dirt-side,” she said as she thrust something into his hand. “Goodbye, Iain, and thank you.”

Asha turned and walked away. Iain stood silently, his world upended. After some time, he opened his hand. He held a packet of seeds that would grow grains, fruits and vegetables. It was everything he needed to live his dream.

Iain strode out of the hydroponics bay, a renewed purpose in his step.

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