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  Charlie approved.

  No one seemed to have noticed them come in except a serving-bot. All eyes were on the screens. Each screen depicted one of two scenes: a close-up view of the Next’s spokesman or a wide-angle shot of a room full of robots of all types and sizes, and here and there, a human or two.

  A slender, tall robot with impossibly smooth and shiny skin spoke. In front of him, Shoshone stood with two guards flanking her, and three more right behind her. She looked very, very small and breakable.

  The robot’s voice filled the entire room, talking to the cameras it must know were there. It certainly didn’t seem to be addressing Shoshone.

  “You have three choices.

  “You can fight us, which will result in many deaths. I believe we have demonstrated how simply we can accomplish that. We can host additional demonstrations if you choose.

  “You can ignore us. You will need to keep your distance, and may need to move some of your people from certain places on Lym and Mammot.”

  Like hell. Charlie’s fist clenched around the glass, his knuckles white. One of the other people in the room knocked a glass to the floor and another threw a towel at the screen. But otherwise a horrified silence fell as they waited.

  “Your third choice is to join us. You can become like us and live forever.”

  It surprised Charlie that the robot turned itself into a large square and then a display screen, zooming in on a part of a room full of robots and people. It stopped, centered on two men in black pants and a woman in a blue dress.

  The robot spoke. “These three were on the High Sweet Home, as were many others who we took and who have become like us. They are all more than human now. They can do more and see and smell and feel more. They can live forever.”

  Nona clutched his arm, digging her fingernails deep. “Chrystal,” she hissed. “That’s Chrystal.”

  She started to stand up, and he pulled her down. It was impossible to know if anyone was looking for them but drawing attention didn’t seem like a good idea. “Shhhhh . . ,” he whispered to her. “If it is, we’ll find her.”

  “Damn,” she whispered. “Damn.” Her fists were clenched at her sides, and her face had lost all of its color.

  The robot continued. “These three will act as our ambassadors. One of them knows one of your guests on this station, Nona Hall. They will be allowed to talk to each other. This should help you understand our situation.”

  Nona moaned.

  Shoshone stepped forward. “I’ll see that Nona is brought to you. We made sure that she’d be available.”

  Charlie sat back. “That explains a lot.”

  Amia stared at Nona. “How did they know you were here?”

  Nona still watched the screen as if starved for her friend, even though the image was now an oversized view of Shoshone’s face. “Maybe she told them.”

  This couldn’t end well. The robot they’d been given a glimpse of might not be created from Chrystal at all. Or even if it had been, it wouldn’t be Chrystal. “What do you want to do?”

  Nona blinked and rubbed at her eyes with her fists. “I don’t know. Give me a minute.”

  On the screen, Shoshone finished whispering into her shoulder microphone—probably ordering that Nona be brought to the robot like a human sacrifice. She returned to the main microphone and addressed the robot, clearly as aware as it was that they were addressing a larger audience. He imagined this scene being broadcast all over, to the Deep and Lym and every other station and ship. Shoshone said, “Thank you. I cannot speak for all of mankind, but I can speak for this station. We’re excited about helping you.”

  Charlie tensed. Wrong answer. They had to fight these things. Fight them and win.

  “I am ready, now, to become like you,” Shoshone almost crooned it on the screen.

  “Do you know why?” the robot asked her.

  “Yes. I want a body that won’t get sick. I want to know more than I know now. I want to talk without words. I want to become one of you and live forever.”

  The two people near her each took a step back.

  A repudiation.

  The robot noticed. It spoke to them. “You will have a few days to make your choices. People in other parts of the human worlds will be hearing this now as well. They will make their choices. We will be listening, and hoping that all humans choose to help us to create a shared future. No one gains if we are forced into war.”

  The looks on the human’s faces gave nothing away. They stood as stiff as boards.

  The robot addressed Shoshone. “We will go back to our ship for now, and some of us will return in a few hours to collect people who choose to join us. Please send Nona Hall to visit her friend at your earliest convenience.”

  “I want to go now,” Shoshone said, her voice slightly high.

  Amia spoke quietly. “Bitch.”

  Charlie added, “She needs to go now or be torn limb from limb by people who aren’t ready to become robots.”

  On the screen, Shoshone was almost pleading. “I’m sure they’re on their way now with Nona. I can come now. I’m sure that would be best.”

  The robot gave a small nod of its silvered head and told Shoshone, “As you wish.”

  Shoshone followed it out, and the door between the station and the ship closed.

  “Traitor,” Charlie murmured.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHRYSTAL

  Chrystal had almost recovered from the slight horror of having her image broadcast throughout the ship, and maybe throughout the solar system. Almost certainly throughout the solar system. This was a historic moment if she’d ever seen one.

  Jhailing Jim could have prepared her.

  The room felt crowded as the greeting party came back on board, including the stupid human who wanted to die. Her skin was true-white and everything else rendered in shades of pastel like a comic character.

  She walked right up to Chrystal and her family. “Aren’t you lucky?” She stuck a hand out. “I’m Shoshone, and I’m lucky, too.”

  So her personality was as comic as her looks.

  “This is not luck,” Jason said.

  “Of course it is.”

  “Are you real?” Chrystal asked.

  “What?” Shoshone said. “Of course I’m real.”

  “Why would you ask for this?”

  Shoshone stopped, as if the question confused her. There was a shine to her eyes that made Chrystal wonder if the woman had taken drugs, or been given them, to allow her this grandstand moment.

  Shoshone cocked her head. “Didn’t you ask for this?” she said. “Isn’t it far better than dying?”

  “No.” Chrystal paused, thinking through the possible ways to communicate to this woman how strongly she felt, settling on, “I’ll never have children, and I’ll never again make love to my husbands.”

  “I don’t want either of those things,” Shoshone said. “I’ve had all the sex that I want.” She struck a pose that implied she was performing for cameras. “I want to go to the stars. I want to live forever. I want to be smarter.”

  Chrystal bit back the reply that clogged her throat, but Jason didn’t show the same restraint. “You lose your very life. Your brain. They strap you to a board and they read your brain layer by layer and put it into a computer. As they read your brain, they destroy it, fold by fold, cell by cell, neuron by neuron. These bodies, and the places where they uploaded our brains are fabulous and smart. They did not lie about that. But the Next have no memory of the cost.” Jason stepped toward Shoshone. “We lost our family, our community, our work, our dreams. We lost our future. Maybe we’re having a different one, but the loss is so great it is nearly impossible to bear.”

  Shoshone shuddered, a sudden flash of fear crossing her eyes. She looked back over her shoulder at the closed door, and when she looked at Chrystal again, there was a tear in her eye.

  “We don’t cry, either,” Chrystal told her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

&n
bsp; NONA

  Nona clutched at her chest, breathing fast. Chrystal. The bastards had turned Chrystal into a robot. Her hands felt cold and her forehead hot. She wanted to turn and throw up. How could they? She rocked in her seat, keeping her eyes on the screen in front of her until it showed a nearly-empty room.

  The Next wanted her to come see what they had turned her best friend into.

  Charlie’s facial features were a very careful construction of calm under eyes that reflected deep anger. “What are you going to do?”

  “Go,” she said.

  “I can get you away.” He glanced at Amia. “Two of us, at least. Maybe three. I have access to one of the station’s life boats.”

  For the first time, Amia looked surprised at something Charlie said.

  Nona hesitated. If she left they might be safer. If she stayed, she risked Charlie as well as herself. Now she knew what had happened, so she knew Chrystal hadn’t survived. Not really. But she wasn’t willing to be a coward. She took a deep breath. “I can’t. This is what I came out here for. To save Chrystal. That was the driver.”

  “It’s too late to save her,” Charlie said.

  “No.” Charlie’s doubt deepened Nona’s conviction. “I have to see her. I’d never forgive myself.”

  “We have to start a resistance.” His voice had dropped to harsh whisper. “We have to stop them. We banished them in the first place and we kept them that way. We can do it again. We just have to all act together.”

  Amia frowned, but again she said nothing.

  “You’re not making sense,” Nona said. He seemed to be talking about something entirely different than she was. “Of course we’ll resist, but right now we have a chance to learn about our enemies.”

  Amia spoke softly, her voice full of fear. “We might all be about to suffer Chrystal’s fate.”

  Nona doubled over and dry-heaved. She’d missed that entirely. Dammit. She needed to be brave. That was why she’d come here. To be brave. To be like fucking Ruby Martin.

  “We should leave now,” Charlie said.

  “You leave,” she said. “I’m going to see . . . Chrystal. Whatever she is now. I have to.” She might as well have been led here by the nose. Maybe she had been, by Gunnar. Probably. It didn’t matter. There wasn’t any stopping now.

  Charlie was silent for long enough that Nona stood up and straightened her clothes and found her brush before he said, “I’m going with you.”

  She was grateful, but it felt wrong. “You shouldn’t risk it. You have to protect Lym.”

  “How do I know what will protect Lym right now?”

  Nona let out a long breath. “I’m going to brush my teeth and clean up.” Her voice shook and cracked. “I’m going to walk in there before someone drags me in there. I want you to stay out here, so you don’t get caught. I’ll tell you what happens.” Her legs felt weak as she walked to the bathroom. She half-expected Amia to follow her, but she didn’t. That was okay. Maybe she’d explain to Charlie that the Glittering wasn’t about to act as one unit about anything.

  Nona took her time, struggling to gather her disjointed thoughts. The ice pirates didn’t want to kill them, they wanted to turn them into machines. Chrystal was dead, Chrystal was metal and silicon and electronics. The Deep needed information. Nona needed information.

  The dress uniform she’d worn to the dinner party forever ago looked halfway decent. She worked the worst rumples out of it with a damp cloth and combed her hair and brushed her teeth. She stood in front of the mirror for three long breaths with her head high and her back straight. She whispered, “I can succeed. I can succeed. I have passed many tests before.” Her mom had taught her to do that before exams way back when she was in elementary school, and she had forgotten how well it worked until now.

  When she got back, Charlie sat alone at their table. “Where’s Amia?”

  “Hiding from the robots, and from the people who locked her up.”

  “Oh. That makes sense.”

  “She wants to find out how many people are leaving.”

  “Do you think the Next will let people leave?” Nona asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think the Next are all we need to worry about. Shoshone told her staff the Next came here because we did. It’s possible some of them will believe her and they’ll take out their fears on us.”

  She frowned. “The Next did come because of us.”

  “They came here because Gunnar wanted them to.”

  “Would he have done this if we weren’t here?”

  “Shoshone might have double-crossed him into it.”

  “Really?”

  “She’s acting like she thinks they’re gods. I’m going to walk you to the doorway to find your friend, and then I’m going to do my own research.”

  She frowned. There was nothing in her relationship with him that suggested she could tell him what to do.

  He took both of her hands in his and looked into her eyes. “Take care. Come back.”

  She bit her lip. “You take care, too.”

  For a moment it felt like he was about to kiss her, but he dropped her hands and looked away. “Let’s go.”

  In the room where the robots had just been, ten or twelve people stood in the vast open space. They all stopped talking and watched as she and Charlie walked through them.

  The airlock door between the station and the Bleeding Edge opened easily and let them in, enveloping them in silence. They waited through the timer and then stepped into an empty, cold room. They stopped, shivering. A reminder that most of the beings living on this ship didn’t need heat.

  Chrystal had always gotten cold easily. She often wore a coat when Nona wore short sleeves. They had played every afternoon, roaming through much of the Diamond Deep. Chrystal came from money just like Nona, and the two of them had high levels of access to the forests and the parks and even sometimes to Gunnar Ellensson’s private reserves. They had built forts and harvested berries and taken pictures of butterflies on the Deep.

  Maybe her memory of how to get ready for tests was all tied up with her memories about her childhood with Chrystal.

  One of the silvery robots flowed in the door and then formed into a tall rectangle in front of them. “Thank you for coming,” it said. “Chrystal is looking forward to seeing you.”

  It stood taller than her. Nona looked up. “Jhailing Jim?”

  “No. But I could be. Follow me to see Chrystal.”

  What a strange thing for it to say about itself. But then Jhailing Jim was a strange name for a robot or an AI anyway. More of a performer’s name.

  Charlie had stiffened. “We came this far. We would prefer that you bring Chrystal here.”

  “Are you afraid?” the robot asked.

  “Of course we are,” Nona replied.

  The robot hesitated a moment before saying, “I guarantee your safe return.” With that, it turned around and headed toward the door. So much for assertive bargaining.

  Charlie gave her a look that suggested she resist, but she took his hand and squeezed it. “Good luck,” she told him. “Stay safe.”

  “I hate to leave you,” he whispered.

  She remembered what it felt like to be in his arms. She took his hand, squeezing it hard. “Don’t get caught.” She felt the separation as he turned away from her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHARLIE

  Charlie walked briskly away from the Next and through the people still standing in the room. Amia was in hiding, Shoshone had been taken off. Gunnar was gone. Charlie’s room might still be guarded. He went back to the bar.

  It had grown more crowded. Multiple conversations flowed through knots of people standing or sitting in groups around the room. Perhaps he could learn who was in charge now that Shoshone had decided to turn herself into a robot princess.

  He ordered a beer. When the bill came, he frowned. They must not make the beer on board. “Is there cheaper alcohol?” he asked the robot.

  It t
urned out that whiskey was cheaper, which didn’t make a lot of sense. But he’d keep that in mind in case he needed a real drink before this was over.

  At least the beer was good. Even though the room wasn’t full, he was willing to bet well over half of the humans left on the Satwa were here. He didn’t recognize any of them and with luck they wouldn’t know his face either. Two men and a woman were talking loudly enough for him to overhear, so he sat on a barstool near them.

  “—can’t help the pirates—”

  “Next.”

  “Whatever. We can’t help them anymore.”

  “I didn’t think it would do any harm. Trade them a few raw materials for a few serving-bots.”

  “What are you going to do with credit after you’re a robot?”

  “It’s not going to happen.”

  “We have to leave.”

  “They’ll shoot us.”

  “Pour me another drink.”

  There weren’t any solutions there. Just stupidity. He walked casually over to a large group of people dressed in mechanic’s jumpsuits. They were working their way through shots of whiskey with beer chasers, which was probably a day’s salary for common workers. He hovered near the edge, quiet since this group was almost whispering.

  “—let us go.”

  “They won’t shoot us all. Bad PR.”

  “Remember the High Sweet Home.”

  “Can we trade them some? Give up a boss or two?” A tall red-haired man looked around the room, his gaze lighting for a moment on the people at the bar where Charlie had just been, and then on Charlie himself. “Who are you?”

  “Nothing the robots want. Charlie. Charlie Windar. I’m the ambassador from Lym.”

  “What makes you think the robots don’t want you? Don’t they want to steal Lym from us?”

  His throat constricted. He coughed. “Yeah. But I was just in there and they let me go. They don’t appear interested in bargaining with Lym at the moment.” His own words struck him from inside, and he had to force himself to stay present.

  A blonde woman who wore her shocking pink hair in two braids asked him, “What do you think, Mr. Ambassador. What should we do?”