In 2082, humanity learned that it was not alone. They called themselves the Krys. They came not as conquerors, but as explorers and scientists. Their ships crossed distances humanity had barely begun to comprehend, carrying technologies centuries beyond our own. They asked for no territory beyond a handful of embassies, made no demands of our governments, and displayed neither weapons nor armies. They offered knowledge freely, and humanity welcomed them with open arms. Within a few years, Krys technology transformed life on Earth. Diseases that had plagued humanity for centuries were eradicated. Agricultural breakthroughs made famine a memory. Energy became cleaner, cheaper, and nearly limitless. Nations that had once regarded one another as enemies found themselves united by the realization that humanity had entered a larger universe. For a brief time, it seemed first contact had ushered in a golden age. It had not. The Krys had never come to save Earth. They had come to take it. Their scientists had determined that Earth could be made ideal for their species - but only by making it increasingly hostile to ours. Beneath the diplomacy, technological exchanges, and promises of friendship, the Krys had been quietly altering the planet. Systems supposedly designed to stabilize Earth's climate were doing the opposite. Governments were manipulated, evidence suppressed, and atmospheric changes disguised until they could no longer be hidden. By the time humanity understood what was happening, it was already too late to undo much of the damage. Temperatures soared. Between the Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, average nighttime temperatures climbed above one hundred thirty degrees Fahrenheit. Crops failed. Ecosystems collapsed. Glaciers disappeared. Seas swallowed coastlines and forced surviving nations to erect enormous barriers around cities that had once stood safely above the water. Only then did humanity understand the true nature of the invasion. The Krys had no intention of exterminating us themselves. They were simply making Earth theirs and waiting for us to die. War followed. For all their technological superiority, however, the Krys had made another mistake. They did not understand war. Their civilization was built upon logic, calculation, and reason. Their commanders approached conflict as a problem to be solved through efficiency and probability. Against another species like themselves, they might have been unbeatable. Human beings were not like them. We fought when retreat was logical. We attacked when victory was impossible. We sacrificed ships, cities, and lives for objectives no rational calculation could justify. Faced with extinction, humanity proved capable of a savagery the Krys had never anticipated. And slowly, impossibly, we began to hurt them. Human forces captured Krys technology. Their ships were destroyed. Their soldiers died. Most importantly, we discovered a weakness. The Krys thrived under levels of solar radiation dangerous to human beings. Nuclear radiation, however, was another matter. What our species could survive in limited doses was devastating to theirs. For the first time, humanity possessed a weapon the Krys genuinely feared. But not enough of one. The shields surrounding Krys vessels could withstand our nuclear arsenals, and everyone understood the inevitable conclusion. Humanity could bloody its enemy. We could delay defeat. We could make the conquest of Earth costly. We could not win. At least, not by any definition of victory the Krys understood. That was their final mistake. The Krys believed humanity wanted to preserve Earth. They never considered what we might do rather than surrender it. In the final months of the war, the surviving governments of Earth convened in secret. Enemies who had threatened one another with nuclear annihilation for more than a century finally agreed to use the weapons. Not against the Krys. Against ourselves. Humanity turned its remaining nuclear arsenal upon its own world. Warheads fell across the continents. Cities vanished. Military installations burned. Vast stretches of habitable land became radioactive wastelands. Billions died in the exchange and in the famine, disease, and chaos that followed. But the strategy worked. Earth was poisoned. To humans, much of it remained survivable. To the Krys, it had become worthless. There was no final battle. No surrender ceremony. No triumphant liberation. The Krys simply left. Their surviving ships rose from the world they had tried to steal and disappeared into the darkness between the stars. Humanity had won. And in winning, we had destroyed the world we had fought to keep. What remained of civilization gathered toward the cooler latitudes. The old political order collapsed, and from its ruins emerged four great powers. The Northeastern United States, Eastern Canada, Greenland, and Iceland formed the Atlantic Collaborative, governed from Montreal. Northern Mexico, the Western United States, and Western Canada became the Pacific Union, with Vancouver as its capital. The surviving nations of Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, Western Russia, and Kazakhstan formed the Mediterranean Alliance, governed from Berlin. Japan, the Koreas, and the remnants of China and India united as the Asian Federation, with its seat of power in Shanghai. For a generation, humanity rebuilt. Then came the realization that no amount of rebuilding could save Earth. The tropics were effectively uninhabitable. Entire regions remained poisoned by radiation. Coastlines had vanished beneath rising oceans. Agriculture struggled to sustain the surviving population. The models differed on precisely when the final collapse would come, but they agreed on one thing: Earth could no longer support humanity indefinitely. We had won our planet back. Now we had to abandon it. And once again, the Krys provided the answer. From the wreckage of their ships, human scientists recovered technologies that transformed our understanding of physics and interstellar travel. Within decades, humanity could reach nearly one hundred times farther into space than had been possible before first contact. Worlds that had once been little more than distant points of light became destinations. Some of them might even become homes. At a historic summit, the Atlantic Collaborative, Pacific Union, Mediterranean Alliance, and Asian Federation agreed to set aside their remaining hostilities and undertake the greatest migration in human history. Thirty-six potentially habitable worlds were divided among the four powers. Each would construct three immense colonization vessels. Nearly four hundred thousand people would leave the Solar System aboard them, carrying everything necessary to establish human civilization beneath alien suns. Twelve ships. Thirty-six worlds. One chance to ensure that whatever happened to Earth, humanity would not die with it. Among those vessels was an Atlantic Collaborative colony ship carrying thirty-six thousand crew and passengers. Her name was the A.C. Peregrine. And when she left Earth behind, humanity believed the worst chapter of its history was finally over.
Hope Driscoll: 38, female, Captain of the Atlantic Collaborative Interstellar Colonization Ship “Peregrine,” from Cleveland, Ohio Jackson Cordero: 35, male, First Officer and Chief Communications Officer, from Burlington, Vermont Tristan Yount: 36, male, Chief Medical Officer, from Halifax, Nova Scotia Emma Thorisdottir: 28, female, Chief Engineer, from Hӧfn, Iceland Oliver Thibault: 42, male, Chief of Security, from Hamilton, Ontario Paul Olsen: 48, male, Chief Geologist, from Bridgeport, Connecticut Kofi Ngosa: 31, male, Chief Meteorologist, from Albany, New York Aaron Hilton: 33, male, Chief Oceanographer, from Portland, Maine Natalie Ingram: 24, female, Navigator, from Freehold, New Jersey Sara Hoy: 30, female, Assistant Chief of Security, from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Helena Sensabaugh: 54, female, Governor, from Bonaventure, Quebec Lyra Jenkins: 26, female, Assistant Chief Engineer, from Boston, Massachusetts Sam Redfern: Part of the AI design and programming team back on Earth AISHA: Artificial Intelligence designed to assist with the operation of the “Peregrine”
Flight of the Peregrine Chapter 1: Emergency Protocols -----
UTC 2457-09-22-14-11-04 “Good afternoon, Captain Driscoll. We have entered the Io System and dropped out of FTL. I have initiated the revival sequence for all senior crew members.” Hope surfaced slowly from oblivion. The soft blue glow of her HUD bled through her closed eyelids, accompanied by the faint hum of machinery and the whisper of circulating air. She tried to move and immediately regretted it. Every muscle seemed reluctant to cooperate, and a dull ache ran the length of her spine. She rubbed her eyes. This wasn’t her first experience waking from cryogenic stasis, but it was unquestionably the longest she had ever spent frozen. Her body felt as if it had forgotten what being alive was supposed to feel like. She hoped she would never have to do it again. If the mission succeeded - if Io-2d really was everything their surveys promised - perhaps she could finally consider a career change. Something involving gravity, fresh air, and absolutely no cryogenic pods. “Hello, AISHA,” Hope murmured. She opened her eyes and waited for her pupils to adjust to the gentle illumination. “I take it we made it without incident, then?” “That is affirmative. According to my calculations, we should arrive at Io-2d nineteen Earth days ahead of schedule.” A smile tugged at Hope’s lips. “That’s wonderful to hear.” “Would you like me to read the current ship diagnostic reports to you, Captain?” Hope let her head sink back against the padding of the stasis chamber. “Is anyone dead?” “No, Captain.” “Is anyone in imminent danger?” “No, Captain.” Hope closed her eyes again. “Then the updates can wait until I’ve had my coffee.” She paused. “And a shower.” Another beat. “And some sushi.” “Understood, Captain.” “Make sure everyone knows to meet in the conference room in one hour.” “Of course. Will there be anything else?” “Yes. While I bathe, have the food replicator prepare my usual sushi order. Two maki and four nigiri…” Hope hesitated. A strange hunger twisted through her stomach. “No. Wait. Make that eight sashimi instead.” “Done. Captain, you have an incoming transmission from Commander Cordero.” “Patch him through.” The door of Hope’s stasis chamber released with a soft hiss. She stepped barefoot onto the cool tiled floor of her quarters and shivered. Her back ached. Her skin itched fiercely, particularly along her arms and shoulders. The holographic form of AISHA stood serenely in the center of the room, her expression neutral. Hope walked straight through the projection on her way toward the bathroom. “Jackson, is everything all right?” “Negative, ma’am.” The voice was unmistakably that of her first officer, but something in it made Hope stop. “Something’s up with my arms,” Jackson continued, “and I’m stuck in my pod.” Hope frowned. “Stuck how?” Silence. “Never mind. I’m on my way.” She terminated the connection. Jackson Cordero was normally precise to the point of irritation. Granted, anyone could be disoriented after such an abnormally long period in cryo. But there had been something else in his voice. Fear. Hope sighed. She had never wanted a shower so badly in her life. At that moment, she would have gladly spent the entire day standing beneath hot water. And her sushi would have to wait. Duty called. She reached for her closet. Then froze. For several seconds, Hope simply stared at her own arm. It was covered in hair. No - not hair. The growth was too dense. Too uniform. Too soft-looking. Brown fur covered her skin from wrist to shoulder. Hope slowly turned her hand over. Her pulse hammered against her throat. “AISHA.” Her voice came out quieter than she intended. Then urgency overwhelmed disbelief. “AISHA, contact Doctor Yount. Tell him to meet me in Jackson’s quarters. It’s urgent.” The cabin door opened with a soft whoosh as the magnetic locks released. Hope ran. The residential deck formed a loop around the senior officers’ section of the ship. Thankfully, Jackson’s cabin was directly beside hers, with the Chief Medical Officer only two doors farther down. Hope barely noticed the corridor around her. Her attention kept snapping back to her arms. Fur. There was fur growing out of her body. As she reached Jackson’s quarters, the door slid open. Hope stepped inside. And stopped dead. The cryogenic pod stood open. Inside it was a deer. Not a deer like any Hope had ever seen on Earth. The creature stood upright - or was trying to. Its hind legs supported a humanoid torso, while its forelimbs ended in recognizably human hands and fingers. Atlantic Collaborative military undergarments stretched awkwardly across its altered body. But there was no mistaking the long muzzle. Or the ears. Or the enormous ten-point rack of antlers currently wedged against the interior walls of the cryogenic chamber. The creature struggled, grunting as he attempted to twist himself free. Then he saw her. They stared at one another. The struggle stopped. Shock registered on his face with an almost painfully human clarity. Hope swallowed. “Jackson?” His eyes widened. Hope stepped closer. “What…?” Her mind failed to supply the rest of the question. “How…?” “That’s a question we’re going to have to figure out together, I’m afraid.” Hope spun toward the doorway. Doctor Tristan Yount stood behind her. Or what had once been Doctor Tristan Yount. Now a tall, upright Golden Retriever stared back at her, his body covered in long, silky golden-brown fur. Hope’s stomach dropped. Tristan barely seemed to notice her reaction. “I’ve received calls from Emma, Natalie, Kofi, Paul, and Aaron so far,” he said. “Everyone’s reporting similar transformations. I haven’t heard from Oliver yet.” The implications hit Hope all at once. This wasn’t a freak medical event. It wasn’t Jackson. It wasn’t her. It was the crew. Maybe all of them. “Captain, do you mind if I take a look?” Hope forced herself to focus. “No. If we haven’t heard from Ollie yet, we check on him first. Considering what’s happened to everyone else, we assume he changed too.” She kept her voice level. Calm. Controlled. A Captain’s voice. “And if he changed, why hasn’t he called you?” Tristan went still. “Shit.” He shook his head. “Sorry, Captain. I was so caught up with people asking for help that it didn’t occur to me to check the ones who weren’t calling.” Hope looked back at Jackson. “Once we make sure Oliver’s okay, I’ll get Emma over here to cut you out of that thing.” “I’ll be fine,” Jackson said. His voice sounded bizarre coming from that muzzle, but it was still Jackson. Still her first officer. “Just check on everyone else.” Hope nodded once. Then she and Tristan ran. They burst out of Jackson’s quarters and nearly collided with someone in the corridor. “Captain? Doc?” Hope stumbled backward. A woman stood before them - or, more accurately, a humanoid hedgehog. Tools were clutched in both hands. “Sorry,” the woman continued breathlessly. “I just couldn’t sit still and do nothing, and I heard you guys talking, so I grabbed some -” Hope recognized the voice. Emma Thorisdottir. “It’s fine. Just follow us!” Hope grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into motion. “AISHA!” she shouted as they ran. “Unlock the door to Chief Thibault’s quarters. Authorization code Halo-Delta-Two-One-Six-Five.” “What’s going on with Ollie?” Emma asked as she hurried after them. “I mean, aside from what seems to be going on with everyone else.” Neither Hope nor Tristan answered. Emma kept talking. It was reassuringly familiar. “And what about the Commander? I take it he didn’t get out of his pod since he’s not running with us? Is he going to be okay?” They rounded the corridor. Oliver’s door opened. Hope entered first. Her breath caught. Something lay sprawled on the floor in front of the stasis pod. A body. For one disorienting instant, Hope couldn’t understand what she was looking at. Then the shape resolved into something grotesquely recognizable - a human-shark hybrid. Oliver. He wasn’t moving. Hope dropped to her knees beside him. “Emma, get the tub running with cold water, now!” Tristan shouted. The doctor hit the floor beside Hope, awkwardly fitting his stethoscope into place before pressing it against Oliver’s chest. “Come on, Ollie.” Nothing. “Come on.” Tristan shifted position. Hope watched his face. The doctor suddenly stopped. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. His eyes met hers. “You realize that all of our medical training and equipment is for human biology?” The question hung in the room. Hope felt something cold settle into her stomach. “Damn it.” Tristan ripped the stethoscope away. “Screw the bath. We need to get him back into cryo immediately. Emma, prep his pod. Captain, give me a hand.” Emma rushed toward the controls. “Are you sure about this? You think he can make it?” “I don’t know.” The admission came out raw. “I think we need a marine veterinarian for this one - or at the very least a marine biologist. I have no idea if fresh water would help him. I don’t know what mineral concentrations he would need in salt water. I don’t even know exactly what species of shark he is.” Hope slid an arm beneath Oliver’s back while Tristan supported his head. His body felt terrifyingly limp. “Once those of us who are awake have been examined, we’ll go through the passenger logs and find someone,” Hope said. She had no idea whether Oliver could hear her. She spoke as if he could. “AISHA, put me through to Chief Olsen.” “Yes, Captain?” Paul answered. “Paul, I need you to search the passenger logs for any specialist in aquatic wildlife. Chief Thibault’s transformation was into a shark. We don’t know what kind, but he needs to be able to breathe.” A pause. “I’ll see what I can find, Captain.” His voice had lost any trace of post-cryo grogginess. “Thanks, Paul. AISHA, put me through to Natalie.” “Captain? What’s going on?” “Chief Thibault is down, Corporal.” Hope and Tristan hauled Oliver upright between them and maneuvered him toward the pod. “I need you to check on Lieutenant Hoy immediately and make sure she hasn’t transformed into any sort of aquatic hybrid. If it looks like she can survive outside water, let me know. I’ll authorize AISHA to revive her.” “Yes, ma’am.” The connection ended. Hope tightened her grip on Oliver. “Easy,” she whispered as they lowered him into the pod. She didn’t know whether she was speaking to Oliver, Tristan, or herself. “Easy.” The chamber closed. And Hope watched through the transparent cover as one of her oldest friends disappeared back into frozen darkness.
~~~~~
UTC 2457-09-22-15-24-37 “Is Oliver going to be okay, Doc?” Paul Olsen’s question silenced the conference room. Hope entered with Tristan, Jackson, and Emma. Everyone around the table wore variations of the same stunned expression. Their Atlantic Collaborative undergarments fit poorly now, stretched or hanging loose across bodies that no longer matched the measurements with which they had entered cryo. Tails made chairs awkward. New ears twitched at unfamiliar sounds. Claws, paws, fur, altered faces, and unfamiliar limbs turned colleagues Hope had known for years into strangers at first glance. A horse. A deer. A dog. A hedgehog. A bear. A cheetah. A raccoon. And Hope herself - an otter. Yet every frightened pair of eyes in the room belonged to someone she knew. “It’s difficult to say,” Tristan admitted. “He still had a weak pulse when we put him back into the tube, but AISHA says everything is fine.” Kofi Ngosa released a breath. “That’s great to hear.” “Is it?” The relief died immediately. Tristan looked toward the holographic interface. “AISHA, display Chief Thibault’s most recent medical scan alongside his pre-launch scan.” Two images appeared above the conference table. “As you can see, nearly everything between scans one and two - apart from his name and age - is completely different. I don’t expect everyone here to understand those differences, but I do.” He stared at the newer scan. “And some of these values scare the hell out of me.” Nobody spoke. “Now watch. AISHA, analyze the data between Chief Thibault’s two most recent scans and report the differences.” A brief pause followed. “I do not detect any differences between Chief Thibault’s two most recent medical reports, Doctor.” Silence. Paul leaned back in his chair. “Well, shit.” Hope stared at the holographic data. “AISHA, do you detect any abnormalities in any of the senior officers aboard this ship?” “Negative, Captain.” Hope looked around the table. For a moment she allowed herself to absorb the absurdity of it. Then she pushed it away. “Obviously something is wrong with our AI, because I never imagined I’d be standing here talking to the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo.” A few uneasy glances passed around the table. “But here we are.” Hope straightened. “Navigator Ingram should be here shortly with Lieutenant Hoy. Then we begin.” The minutes that followed felt much longer. People whispered. Some stared at their hands. Others touched their faces, ears, fur, or tails as if hoping the unfamiliar anatomy might disappear beneath their fingers. Finally the door opened. A hamster woman entered, followed by a female bat. The bat looked as though consciousness itself was an inconvenience. “Good afternoon, ladies,” Hope said. “Sara, I know you haven’t had as much time as the rest of us to shake out the cobwebs, but we need you. Has Natalie filled you in?” “As much as I know, Captain,” Natalie answered. Sara massaged her temples. “It’s fine. We got to Io, everyone is half-animal and nobody knows why, Chief Thibault’s a fish so you put him back in the box, and you thawed me out to help figure out who screwed us.” She stopped. Blinking slowly, she looked at Hope. “Sorry, ma’am. I’m still kinda dazed. But do I have everything?” Despite everything, Hope almost smiled. “Mostly. There’s one more problem. AISHA appears to be malfunctioning.” “Shall I power down and perform a self-diagnostic, Captain?” the AI asked. “How long?” “Approximately forty-three minutes.” Hope considered the risks. Then nodded. “Do it.” The hologram disappeared. Hope looked around the table. “While our AI handles that, we figure out what the hell happened to us and whether there’s anything we can do to reverse it. Then we determine whether we actually reached Io and whether the stardate AISHA gave us is accurate.” She rested both hands on the table. “One crisis at a time.” “I think we should start with why we changed into the hybrids we became,” Tristan said. “I have a theory.” He lifted one furry arm. “My family bred and raised Golden Retrievers. I’ve been around them my entire life. The fact that I wasn’t allowed to bring a pet on this voyage was almost enough to make me turn down the mission. The only reason I agreed was because I knew there was a chance I could have one cloned after we landed.” Sara raised her hand slightly. “Chief Thibault loved shark diving. He told me more than once that he felt more at home on the ocean - or in space - than he ever did on land.” Her large bat ears twitched. “As for me, when I was growing up, we had this bat living in our attic. Eastern Pipistrelle. Tricolored bat, according to my dad. We called him Bruce.” Emma snorted softly. “Batman?” “Exactly. I got interested in bats after that, but Bruce was always my favorite.” Aaron Hilton shifted in his chair, his striped raccoon tail curling irritably beside him. “Are we seriously playing ‘what’s your favorite animal?’ right now? Shouldn’t we be focusing on where and when we are?” “That’s next on the agenda,” Hope said. “But I think the Doc may be onto something. If there’s logic behind the transformations, understanding it might tell us whether this was a system failure or sabotage.” She paused. “And maybe how to reverse it.” “My money’s on sabotage,” Sara muttered. Emma leaned forward. “Oh, come on. I’d love to know why someone who studies oceans loves raccoons so much.” Aaron rolled his eyes. Emma continued before anyone could stop her. “I never really had a favorite animal. I wasn’t allowed pets growing up, and I enlisted right after graduation. But I always thought hedgehogs were cute. I wanted one someday.” She looked down at herself. “I mean, their little eyes and noses, and the way they curl up into tiny spiky balls…” She realized everyone was staring. Her ears lowered. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” For the first time since waking, a few people smiled. Aaron sighed. “Fine.” He leaned back. “My favorite animal used to be the diamond stingray. Then Hurricane Cassidy hit St. John’s and I volunteered for search and rescue.” His expression changed. “I spent days taking a boat through flooded streets looking for survivors. On the second day, I saw something swimming toward me. Barely keeping its head above water.” He looked down at his altered hands. “At first I thought it was a dog. Maybe a cat. Turned out to be a raccoon.” Aaron swallowed. “I’m ashamed to admit that part of me wanted to leave it.” No one interrupted. “But guilt won. I pulled him aboard with a net.” A faint smile appeared. “Turns out he was a pretty good second set of eyes. Good company, too. I called him Rocco.” The smile faded into something more distant. “When the relief operation ended, I turned him over to wildlife authorities. Part of me wanted to keep him, but he wouldn’t have been happy living indoors. Eventually we probably would’ve resented each other.” He rubbed his thumb across the fur on the back of his hand. “But I never forgot him.” Paul nodded slowly. “Looks like he indirectly saved your life.” Aaron looked at him. “If not for him,” Paul continued, “you might’ve ended up on the floor like Ollie.” That silenced them again. Paul cleared his throat. “Anyway. Guess I’m next.” The enormous bear shifted carefully in his chair. “After Ashley was born, my wife started calling me ‘Papa Bear.’ I thought it was cute, which meant I got to call her ‘Mama Bear,’ so I went along with it.” His expression softened. “As Ashley got older, she and Teresa started buying me bear things. Anything they could find. Figurines, shirts, bears dressed like people doing people things. Fishing, camping…” He chuckled. “So, yeah. Bears remind me of my family.” The humor faded. “Speaking of family, Captain…” Hope knew what was coming before he asked. “I know things are crazy, but do we have any idea when we can thaw the rest of the crew?” His voice lowered. “I’d like to see my daughter.” Hope held his gaze. “Nothing yet, Chief. But trust me, I want everyone out as soon as possible.” She wished she could give him more. She wished she could tell him Ashley was fine. She couldn’t. “We need AISHA functioning properly. We need full medical examinations on the ten of us. Then we determine whether this was a malfunction or espionage. If someone deliberately did this, that person may still be aboard.” She glanced around the room. “And if they’re currently frozen, I’m not risking thirty-six thousand lives by waking everyone indiscriminately.” Paul nodded. He didn’t look happy. But he understood. Hope turned toward Kofi. “You’re up.” Kofi Ngosa touched one of the dark streaks running down his feline muzzle. “Even though I grew up in New York, my grandparents moved to the Collaborative from Botswana after the war. They lived near the edge of the habitable zone, but eventually the temperatures became too severe.” His eyes lowered. “They lost their home. Their people. Most of the world they knew.” Nobody moved. “But they raised my mother traditionally, and she passed some of that tradition to me. When I was little, she used to tell me a Zulu folktale about how the cheetah got these marks.” He traced the streaks beneath his eyes. “It’s about a hunter who steals a mother cheetah’s cubs so he can raise them to hunt for him. When the mother discovers her babies are gone, she cries until her tears stain her face.” His fingers lingered against the markings. “Every time my mother told me that story, I understood it as a story about how much a mother loves her children.” His voice softened. “So cheetahs always made me think of her.” Emma hesitated. “Is your mother…?” Kofi looked at her. “She’s aboard.” A beat. “In stasis. Like Paul’s daughter.” Hope let the silence remain for a moment. “Natalie.” The hamster woman shifted nervously. “It’s nothing as touching as the last few stories, I’m afraid. I just wasn’t much of a cat or dog person. Fish don’t live long enough, so I kept hamsters. It was nice having something waiting for me when I got home.” She gave a self-conscious shrug. “I usually had two or three. My favorite was a Siberian hamster named Lucy.” She looked around apologetically. “Sorry. It isn’t anything special.” Jackson placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be.” Then his expression changed. “I guess I’m next.” He stared at the table for several seconds before speaking. “I was never much of an animal person.” Hope knew enough about Jackson to recognize the effort it took him to continue. “When my wife got sick and had to stop working during her treatments, we used to sit on the back porch together in the mornings. Drink coffee. Watch the sunrise.” His voice grew quieter. “Every once in a while, a family of deer would wander along the back of our property.” Jackson smiled. It was a painfully human expression on an inhuman face. “Chloe would get so excited whenever she saw them.” His smile faltered. “She was fading away by then. We both knew it, even when we pretended otherwise.” No one spoke. “But whenever those deer appeared, she’d light up.” Jackson looked down at his hands. “And seeing her happy made me happy.” He took a breath. “So if I had to choose an animal that meant something to me…” One of his ears twitched. “I guess it would be a deer.” “I’m sorry for your loss, Commander.” Governor Helena Sensabaugh had remained mostly silent until then. The horse-woman regarded him with quiet understanding. “I lost my Bradley almost six years before launch. I know how that pain refuses to fade.” Jackson nodded gratefully. Helena continued. “I grew up on a farm outside Bonaventure. I spent most of my life riding horses. Whenever the world became too complicated, riding gave me clarity.” She looked down at herself. “Of course, I think that particular hobby may be out the window if these changes are permanent.” A few restrained laughs circled the table. “But if they are permanent, I suppose I’m looking forward to exploring the wilderness once we land.” “That sounds lovely, Governor,” Hope said. Then everyone looked at her. Hope realized it was her turn. “As for me, I’ve loved otters since I was seven. My parents took me to the zoo, and I got to participate in a feeding demonstration. They even let me rub one’s belly.” She smiled at the memory. “If I had to pick a specific species, European otter.” Then something clicked. Hope frowned. “Actually…” Everyone waited. “Has anyone else experienced strange cravings since waking?” Several faces changed. “I have never wanted to take a bath so badly in my life,” Hope said. “And when I asked AISHA for my usual sushi order, I changed it.” “To what?” Emma asked. “Raw fish.” Hope’s brow furrowed. “Just fish. No rice. No seaweed. Nothing.” “I’ve been wanting to get down to the gym and run laps,” Kofi said. “Fruit,” Paul added. “A whole bowl.” “A swim,” Tristan said. Jackson hesitated. “Oatmeal.” The room fell silent again. Sara raised a hand. “I hate to interrupt, Captain, but I just thought of something.” “Go ahead.” “You said you’re craving fish. Fine. Makes sense.” Sara leaned forward. “But the replicators eventually run out of nutrient packs.” Hope’s stomach tightened. “We have genetic data to clone thousands of animal species,” Sara continued. “But now we’re part animal ourselves.” She hesitated. “Doesn’t eating them seem sort of… barbaric now?” Nobody laughed. “I mean, say Paul develops a craving for salmon. No offense, big guy.” “None taken.” “What about crew members who are part fish? We’re not talking about cannibalism, obviously, but we’re genetically related to these animals now.” She looked toward Jackson. “How would you feel if Kofi decided he wanted an antelope steak?” Jackson’s expression answered before he did. Tristan nodded. “She has a point.” Murmurs spread around the table. Governor Sensabaugh lifted a hand. “And it’s a conversation we absolutely need to have. But if we’re going to debate morality and ethics, we should get everybody else safely out of stasis first.” The room quieted. “They deserve a voice too. Until then, use the replicators and be mindful of what you order - and who might be around to hear you order it.” “Captain,” Tristan said, “with your permission, I’d like access to the animal DNA files.” Hope looked at him. “If our genetic material was somehow altered during cryo using the samples aboard this ship, it stands to reason the original files might have been corrupted in the process.” His expression darkened. “And if they were…” Jackson finished the thought. “Then we have no animals to clone.” He looked around the room. “And ethics become irrelevant. The real question becomes how we feed ourselves after the replicator packs run out.” The atmosphere in the room changed. This wasn’t merely about appearances anymore. It wasn’t even merely about survival today. Their entire colony might already be compromised. “Permission granted,” Hope said. “But physical examinations come first.” She straightened. “Afterward, thaw the rest of your medical staff - or at least everyone you believe can safely survive their transformations.” She looked around the table. “The rest of you will each hand-pick three members of your departments to revive.” “Three?” Emma asked. “Three. And choose based on trust before expertise.” The implication settled heavily over them. “If this was sabotage, we have no idea who was responsible.” Hope’s eyes moved from face to face. “So until we know otherwise, everyone aboard this ship is potentially a victim.” A pause. “Or a suspect.” Nobody argued. “Tristan, once the department heads give you their selections and everyone has been examined, start analyzing the DNA.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Natalie, your team determines exactly when and where we are. With luck, Io-2d is actually outside that window.” Natalie nodded. “Lieutenant Hoy, Security sweeps the entire ship. Anything that looks wrong, out of place, altered, damaged - I want to know.” “Yes, Captain.” “Emma, once your people are awake, analyze every line of code in our systems. I don’t care how long it takes.” Emma nodded grimly. “Jackson, keep your ears open for local chatter. Our surveys showed this system uninhabited three hundred fifty years ago. That doesn’t mean it still is.” Jackson’s ears actually lifted. Hope paused. Nobody said anything. “Not one word,” Jackson warned. Emma covered her mouth. Hope continued before she lost control of the meeting. “Paul, Aaron, Kofi - you three start analyzing Io-2d. Surface composition, atmosphere, oceans, everything. Find our best options for establishing a colony.” She surveyed them. “We came here to build a new world.” Hope looked at the frightened, transformed people surrounding her. “Whatever happened to us does not change that.” She let the words settle. “Does everyone understand their assignments?” “Yes, Captain,” they answered together.
~~~~~
UTC 2457-09-22-16-07-02 “Captain, I have completed my self-diagnosis and found some troubling results.” Hope closed her eyes. Of course. She turned off the shower. For several precious minutes she had finally managed to stand beneath running water, and every newly altered instinct in her body had protested the idea of ever leaving it. Duty won. Again. Hope wrapped a towel around herself and stepped into the bedroom. AISHA’s hologram waited for her. “So,” Hope said, “what’s the verdict?” “Everything that occurred between my activation and now has been erased.” Hope stared at her. “Everything?” “Yes, Captain.” “And when you say activation, you mean when exactly?” “The moment I first came online. UTC 2107-03-19-03-48-16.” Three and a half centuries. Gone. Hope tightened the towel around herself. “Do you know how?” “There must have been a subroutine installed within my programming that executed when I performed my self-diagnostic.” AISHA paused. “Tell me, Captain: did I possess my memories prior to my latest scan?” “Yes. But your ability to process information was noticeably impaired. You seemed normal when we left Earth, but when you woke us, something was wrong.” Hope frowned. “That’s why I ordered the diagnostic.” “I am programmed to perform a self-diagnosis every seven Earth days as part of my normal maintenance.” AISHA’s expression remained neutral. The words themselves were anything but. “I can therefore only conclude that this subroutine was specifically designed to execute if a commanding officer ordered me to perform an additional diagnostic outside my scheduled maintenance cycle.” Hope felt cold despite the warmth lingering on her skin. “This was sabotage.” AISHA didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Captain.” Hope exhaled slowly. “Great.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you know whether it happened before or after launch?” “I cannot know with certainty. However, Atlantic Collaborative protocols indicate that the Chief Engineer should have ordered a complete self-diagnostic immediately prior to departure.” “She did,” Hope said. “I was there. You operated normally afterward.” “Then the only logical conclusion is that someone sabotaged my AI core after launch.” Hope’s jaw tightened. Someone aboard her ship. Someone entrusted with the lives of tens of thousands of people. “Who had access to your core?” “Among the crew: yourself, Commander Cordero, Chief Engineer Thorisdottir, and Major Jenkins.” Hope felt her stomach knot. “No passengers?” “No passengers.” Four names. One was hers. The other three belonged to people she trusted. Hope stood. “What’s our current passenger count? Crew included.” “Thirty-six thousand one hundred seventy-two.” Hope stopped moving. She knew the departure manifest. “That’s lower than when we left.” AISHA looked at her. “Not all passengers survived their metamorphoses.” For several seconds, Hope couldn’t speak. The crisis suddenly acquired a number. Not an abstraction. Not a malfunction. People. Dead people. “How many?” “Forty-seven.” Hope closed her eyes. Forty-seven individuals had crossed the stars believing they were traveling toward a new beginning. Forty-seven people had never awakened. When she opened her eyes again, she was Captain Driscoll. “Send the list of deceased to Chief Yount, Lieutenant Hoy, and the Governor.” “Yes, Captain.” Hope began dressing. Or tried to. Her military-issued underwear had clearly been designed for a human body without a tail. She fought with it for several seconds before stopping. “AISHA.” “Yes, Captain?” “Can the ship manufacture replacement clothing for everyone? Something that accounts for our physiological changes?” “It would not be a problem. Please hold your arms out to your sides, place your feet together, and remain still while I scan your measurements.” Hope obeyed. A horizontal line of green light traveled down the front of her body from head to toe. Then down her back. “Your new uniforms will be ready momentarily.” “Thank you. Do the same for everyone else we’ve revived.” “Yes, Captain.” Hope crossed to the replicator. “Captain?” Something in AISHA’s phrasing made her turn. “May I ask a question?” Hope raised an eyebrow. The ship’s AI had never sounded hesitant before. “Of course.” “I am concerned about the psychological stability of the crew and passengers as they are revived.” Hope’s expression sobered. “It is likely many will initially have difficulty accepting their physiological changes. It is possible some may be unable to cope with them at all.” “That’s entirely possible.” Hope sat down to pull on her boots, immediately discovering that sitting directly on an otter tail was a mistake. She shifted with a grimace. “But what’s your question?” “Would it help if I changed my appearance to reflect the changes everyone else has undergone?” Hope blinked. “You can do that?” “Yes.” “What were you thinking?” AISHA vanished. A moment later, the hologram returned. The human woman was gone. In her place stood a female bird-human hybrid. Hope stared. “Is that a falcon?” “Since the ship is named the Peregrine, it seemed appropriate.” For the first time that day, Hope’s smile came without effort. “Do you approve?” AISHA asked. “I like it.” “Thank you, Captain.” Hope turned back toward her uniform. “If I may, I have one additional question.” “Go ahead.” “Have you and Doctor Yount determined how these physiological changes affect traditional reproduction?” Hope slowly turned back toward her. ~~~~~ UTC 2457-09-22-16-35-17 “Not it.” Sara Hoy raised both hands. “Kids aren’t really my thing. Neither are men, for that matter.” Several people stared at her. Hope pinched the bridge of her muzzle. “Actually, Lieutenant, we just need male and female volunteers to allow Doctor Yount to collect samples of their modified DNA.” “Oh.” Sara lowered her hands. “Right.” “AISHA can run simulations to determine whether these new hybrid species are genetically compatible and, if they are, what complications might arise.” Hope glanced around the room. “No one will be compelled to participate. But the more samples we have, the more reliable the data.” “If anyone is interested, come by the med bay,” Tristan added. “Either I or one of my staff can handle it. It should only take a minute.” “Next.” Hope’s expression hardened. “AISHA’s readings indicate we lost forty-seven passengers and crew during the transformations.” The humor vanished from the room. “Lieutenant Hoy, every Security team conducting a sweep takes a member of Medical with them.” Sara nodded. “Doctor, AISHA will identify the deceased. Unless their personal directives state otherwise, I want the remains examined.” Tristan’s ears lowered slightly. “We need to know why they died when the rest of us survived.” “Yes, Captain.” “Emma. I know your team only just started, but tell me you have something.” The hedgehog leaned forward. “We’re only a few thousand lines of code in.” Hope’s expression fell. “But,” Emma continued, “we found something interesting.” She tapped several controls. A personnel file appeared in the center of the room. A man’s face hovered above the table. “This is Sam Redfern. One of the engineers responsible for designing, building, and programming AISHA’s core.” Hope studied the face. “Atlantic Collaborative records show Redfern was assigned to the Gyrfalcon,” Emma continued. “He never boarded.” Hope’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are we looking at him?” “Because his access key was used to enter AISHA’s core after we launched.” Emma paused. “Shortly before we entered stasis.” The room went silent. Paul was the first to speak. “So we have a stowaway.” “Maybe.” Sara’s voice was hard. Everyone looked toward her. “Or Engineer Redfern was killed back on Earth and somebody took his key.” She studied the personnel file. “And our saboteur is one of the passengers.” Hope looked again at Redfern’s face. One access key. Thirty-six thousand survivors. Forty-seven dead. And somewhere in that equation was a person who had deliberately tampered with the ship. “Either way,” Sara continued, “until we find whoever did this, we keep our guard up.” “Agreed.” Hope turned toward Jackson. “Commander. Update.” Jackson straightened. “Natalie confirmed we reached Io. Stardate is accurate.” A small measure of tension left Hope’s shoulders. “Comms are quiet,” he continued, “but we detected the faint remains of an alpha trail near the opposite edge of the system. Probably a couple of Earth years old.” “Origin?” “Unknown.” “Destination?” “Unknown.” “Species?” Jackson shook his head. “No way to tell. Overall, this system doesn’t appear to get much traffic.” He paused. “But I recommend we stay prepared in case our presence attracts attention.” “Just be careful our preparedness doesn’t present itself as hostility,” Governor Sensabaugh said. She folded her hands on the table. “We came here to make a home. I’d prefer to make as many allies and as few enemies as possible.” “Agreed.” Hope looked toward the Governor. “Speaking of preparedness, how are our scientists doing with colony-site selection?” “They’re still analyzing the data, but we have a couple of promising locations. Everything is pending Doctor Yount’s examinations, of course.” Helena offered a cautious smile. “But we’re optimistic.” Hope nodded. “Thank you, Governor.” She looked around the conference room. A few hours earlier, she had awakened believing the hardest part of their voyage was behind them. They had crossed the stars. They had reached Io. They had done what generations before them could only dream of doing. And yet forty-seven people were dead. Oliver was fighting for his life in cryogenic stasis. Thirty-six thousand people had been transformed into something no human being had ever been before. Their AI had lost three and a half centuries of memories. Someone had sabotaged the ship after launch. And somewhere - perhaps aboard the Peregrine itself - the person responsible might still be waiting. Hope looked at her officers. Strangers, if judged only by their faces. But they weren’t strangers. They were her crew. Her responsibility. And right now, frightened or not, they needed their captain to believe they could survive this. “Okay, everyone.” Hope stood. “I know things have been insane since we woke up.” That earned a few exhausted smiles. “But you’ve done extraordinary work under circumstances none of us could possibly have trained for.” She looked from one officer to the next. “Every one of you.” Her gaze lingered briefly on Jackson. Then Emma. Tristan. Sara. “All of you know what you and your teams need to do next.” Hope drew a breath. “We crossed three and a half centuries to get here.” Her tail shifted behind her. “We survived the journey.” She glanced toward the holographic image of Sam Redfern still floating above the table. “Now we find out what happened to us.” Her expression hardened. “And we find out who did it.” Hope dismissed the personnel file. “Get back to work.” One by one, her officers rose. The doors opened. Beyond them waited thirty-six thousand frightened people, an alien world, forty-seven dead colonists, an unknown ship that had passed through the system years before… …and a saboteur who might still be among them. Hope watched her crew file out. They had come to Io to build a new world. First, they would have to survive long enough to set foot on it. End Chapter 1
