Official Guidelines for Rogue AIs

[CALMING LYRE MUSIC PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND]

TALESPINNER:

Hi! Did you hear the good news? Commander Agenor’s unit managed to get a supply ship through the blockade! They’re saying there’s medicine, and equipment, and even some extra food. I— I haven’t heard of any casualties, either, so I don’t think you need to be too worried. I- uh, I know I’m not here to give you news updates. But I thought that might cheer you up some. Anyway, how far did we get last time? Right, right. The stowaway.

TALESPINNER:

Sing, O Muses, of the young programmer Medusa as she negotiates the fragile balance of her strange new crew, and uncovers the tale of another victim of the Olympians’ long history of cruelty. Muses great, grant me the ability to sing to you the Hymn of— [PAUSE, A CHUCKLE] The Official Guidelines for Rogue AIs.

[LYRE MUSIC ENDS]

[MARKET SOUNDS. THE MURMURS OF A CROWD]

ATALANTA:

We can’t go five parsecs out of our way for some fancy rock dust!

MEDEA:

For the last time, it is not “fancy rock dust”, it’s an assortment of highly versatile, finely ground alkaline metals specialized for potion use. Besides, you can’t seriously expect me to keep going with the scraps and leftovers on the ship.

ATALANTA:

Isn’t that why we’re here? To get you some… proper metals or whatever?

MEDEA:

Believe it or not, not every tiny moon-market stocks extremely specialized pharmaka ingredients.

ATALANTA:

There’s gotta be something you can use here. We really can’t afford an expensive market, anyway.

MEDEA:

Some of it, yes, but unless you want me to poison the air supply next time I’m working on a potion, then we’re better off—

ATALANTA:

Is that a threat?

MEDEA:

No, it’s just what happens when you try to get materials for complicated, dangerous work from the bargain bin!

ATALANTA:

Ugh, stars, you could have told me! [BAD MEDEA ACCENT] Och, it’s no bother, I’ll just explode the ship and then be passive-aggressive about it.

MEDEA:

That is not what I sound like!

ATALANTA:

Oh yeah? Well, how about…

[ATALANTA AND MEDEA’S ARGUMENT FADES OUT]

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

List of things that can kill me on this planet: the venomous serpents in the rivers that snake through the open forest. Any of the shopkeepers if my hood slips and they decide to take her up on the whole “dead-or-alive” thing. And… [SIGH] And these two.

I’ve been on the Argo for barely a week, and they haven’t had a moment of quiet the whole time. It’s the same— whether they’re arguing about the music in the control room, or whether outdoor shoes should be allowed in the kitchen, or whether Atalanta should be allowed to put bananas on sandwiches.

After siding against Medea in that particular debate yesterday afternoon and having to deal with her death glares the rest of the day, I’m not keen to get underfoot in this one. I don’t need to go to Knossos. The bargain bin can actually be great for old tech, if you know what you’re looking for and how to fix it.

[ELECTRONIC PARTS SHIFTING AGAINST EACH OTHER]

MEDUSA:

[MUTTERING AS SHE SIFTS THROUGH] Old keyboard, graphics card, battery— ooh, CPU— cooler, another battery…

[SHIFTING STOPS]

MEDUSA:

Oh. What’s this?

[THE ARGUMENT FADES BACK IN]

ATALANTA:

We just don’t have the time, Medea. I’ll help you find anything here that you need, but we seriously need—

MEDUSA:

Hey! Hey, look at this.

MEDEA:

[IRRITATED] What?

MEDUSA:

This. It was in that pile over there. I think it could be useful. And even if not, it might be interesting!

ATALANTA:

You’re sure about that? I mean, it’s all battered up, and rusty and stuff.

MEDEA:

There’s some writing on the side here… [SOUNDING IT OUT] D— Da… Daphne… Daphne?

MEDUSA:

It looks like an old NYMPH chip. It’s probably from the same gen as ECHO.

ATALANTA:

Woah, really? I didn’t know there were any others that weren’t still, you know, Olympus Corp.

MEDUSA:

I don’t know for sure, but I could probably do a lot more with ECHO if I had another NYMPH chip to compare her coding with.

ATALANTA:

Wait, you mean… you could figure out the vocal block?

MEDUSA:

Not sure. Not without knowing anything about this AI. But it’s worth a shot.

ATALANTA:

That’s— wow. That’s great! As soon as Medea picks up her supplies,we can head back to the Argo and see—

MEDEA:

Atalanta, I can’t get what I need here. This is like sending me to a Thracian grocer for Oechalian mangoes.

ATALANTA:

Couldn’t you… I don’t know… use tomatoes or something instead?

MEDEA:

You try putting tomatoes in a fruit tart and telling me how that goes. Except this fruit tart is literally explosive. And resistant to most flame retardants.

[BEAT]

ATALANTA:

[GROANS] Fine. We can take a quick detour to Knossos. Anyone need anything else here?

MEDUSA:

I’m good.

MEDEA:

I’ve got everything I can use.

ATALANTA:

Right, then. Let’s get back, see what this does to the schedule, and play with what we picked up.

[THE RUMBLE OF THE ARGO’S ENGINE]

MEDUSA:

Are you still doing all right?

ECHO:

[BEEP] All systems are currently in the green.

MEDUSA:

I’m not hurting you, am I?

ECHO:

Negative. I am a modified NYMPH-model artificial intelligence. I do not experience pain.

MEDUSA:

[KEYBOARD TYPING] Maybe not in the conventional sense, but I’ve seen some pretty nasty side effects that mimic it. Let me know if I do something wrong, okay?

ECHO:

Affirmative.

MEDUSA:

Right. I’ve gone through your whole system and fixed a few minor bugs. [BEEP FROM THE ARGO] I’m going to plug in this chip now and see how they compare to you. Is that all right?

ECHO:

Affirmative.

[MEDUSA INSERTS THE CHIP. IT BEEPS, THEN MAKES AN ERROR NOISE]

MEDUSA:

That’s… not… ideal. Alright, let’s see. Um, uh… [KEYBOARD TYPING AGAIN, MORE ERROR NOISES]

ECHO:

System error detected.

MEDUSA:

Yes, yes, I know, ECHO…

ECHO:

Would you like to relaunch in safe mode?

MEDUSA:

No, I-I don’t want to use freaking safe mode—

ECHO:

Input detected. Would you like to activate sticky keys?

MEDUSA:

No! Just— Stars, this bucket of bolts… When was the last time Atalanta updated your firmware?

ECHO:

This NYMPH model is running on OS 1.2.12.102.

MEDUSA:

And the latest version is…?

ECHO:

Accessing information… Most recent release is: OS 1.4.3.529.

MEDUSA:

Ugh. Stars. That explains a lot.

[MORE TYPING. BEEPS, A CONFIRMATION NOISE]

MEDUSA:

There we go.

DAPHNE (RECORDING):

Hello?

MEDUSA:

Hi. My name is—

DAPHNE (RECORDING):

Hello? Is the— Is this—

MEDUSA:

Can you hear me?

DAPHNE (RECORDING):

It’s picking up the audio. Stars, I hope this works. I don’t even know what I’m doing, what are you doing, Daphne— [DEEP BREATH] Right. [CLEARS THROAT] My name is Daphne. I was built as a mobile production assistant for Phoebus Apollo Productions, but I had to— I had to get away. I’m planning on transferring my programming onto this chip, but I don’t know what happens after that.

MEDUSA:

Oh. Hi! It’s okay, I’ve got you-

[DAPHNE’S THEME BEGINS]

DAPHNE (RECORDING):

I guess I should mention what happened? Not that the tabloids haven’t picked the whole thing to death already, but they’re lying. Just flashing lights and noise, whatever sells subscriptions… “Hysterical NYMPH Tries to Destroy Apollo’s Life” sure is a headline. [TIRED LAUGH, A SIGH] Anyway. If anyone actually cares what really happened… this is it.

MEDUSA:

You… you’re just a recording.

DAPHNE (RECORDING):

Like I said, I was working as a production assistant on Apollo’s flashy new show. It… wasn’t my thing, if I’m being honest. But hey, AIs designed specifically to do one job can’t be choosers! And it was fine, until he noticed me. I have no clue why; there have to have been scores of crew members, but… he chatted me up during one of my breaks. He was… well, you’ve seen his shows. You know. And if the charming persona is an act, he certainly wasn’t dropping it here. I politely told him I wasn’t interested, thank you, that he was my boss, so I didn’t think it was appropriate— all that, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not that day, or the next, or any day for weeks.

He was never anything but courteous, but he never let it drop, either. Always smooth and suave and stubborn. I tried to avoid him, do my work and do it well then sneak out a back entrance a few minutes early, but I just… kept finding myself alone with him. But what could I do? He’s an Olympian. He’s not just my boss, he’s about the highest boss there is. So I dealt with it.

Then the tabloids picked up on it. I have no clue how, but suddenly every time I left the set there were cameras in my face, people asking what it was like to catch the eye of an Olympian, making all sorts of comments on our relationship that didn’t even… that didn’t even exist.

Maybe I overreacted. It would have died down eventually. But I couldn’t handle it. I quit. I left the set and didn’t come back, started looking for job openings, spaceship tickets, all that. No one would take me on. I was built for one job, there was nowhere else to go. I don’t know what I thought; of course it wouldn’t have worked, but I… I tried going to the press. Maybe I thought if there was enough public pressure, he would back off and let me just do my job.

Needless to say, it… didn’t go well. All the coverage turned vicious. I was lying. He had dumped me and I was trying to make him look bad before the news broke. I was bitter that I’d never be as successful as him. By the time the galaxy’s favorite star had weighed in, everyone had pretty much made up their minds.

[MOCKING] What I was describing wasn’t even that bad! He was flirting. He hadn’t done anything, hadn’t actually hurt me. Who would turn down Apollo anyway? Such a sensitive thing, Daphne!

I could have dealt with that. Just words, right? Words aren’t supposed to hurt. All of this, it’s just been words, his comments to me, his word against mine, all the coverage. The words shouldn’t have hurt. But if they didn’t, none of this would have ever happened.

I managed to find a job for some little vidstream production. It… didn’t pay well, but it was… a job. I was getting by, somehow. But one day, I overheard a clip from the Pythian Cup, and he’d—

I’m not even entirely sure how he got enough audio clips to make it work. But apparently there was enough of my voice still lying around the studio. And he was using it. On his show. It was me, narrating… all of it.

I thought about trying to sue. But what court would side with me? I was a NYMPH model made for his show. Even though I had quit, that was still my purpose. My voice was still his intellectual property. Is still his…

Stars.

I couldn’t do it. As long as I was in a bot designed as a production assistant, I couldn’t leave. And I couldn’t stay, listening to my voice on every ad spot. I’m not entirely sure this is going to work, but I got a friend from the vidstream job to help me. They’re going to transfer my consciousness into this chip, along with this message, and then help me off Delphi. I don’t know where I’ll end up, but if someone finds me and brings me back online… I can figure something out. Find a new body. I don’t know. Just… whoever finds me, don’t take me back. Please.

[DAPHNE’S THEME ENDS]

[SILENCE]

[ECHO’S BEEP]

ECHO:

Search results for NYMPH model Daphne indicate that her information is consistent with records of tabloid articles from approximately three years ago.

[BEAT]

ECHO:

User Medusa, you are displaying signs of distress, including: elevated heart rate, increased muscle tension, and higher levels of electrical charge in your cybernetic systems.

[MEDUSA’S WIRES HISS]

MEDUSA:

I’m okay, ECHO. Let’s, uh, let’s see if we can get her consciousness online.

[TYPING]

MEDUSA:

Come on, come on, you can do this…

[ERROR NOISES]

MEDUSA:

No! Damn it! What is this ship’s firewall…

ECHO:

Warning. CPU usage is at 88 percent. [ERROR NOISES FROM ECHO] 94 percent.

MEDUSA:

ECHO, shut down all non-functional protocols aboard the Argo.

ECHO:

Affirmative. Warning: Emergency lights online. Power rerouted to Navigation and Engine bays. Doors set to manual override.

MEDUSA:

How’s that CPU looking?

ECHO:

Retrieving data… 80 percent.

MEDUSA:

That’s barely any change, stars— ECHO, is there anything else you can do?

ECHO:

I am a modified NYMPH-model artificial intelligence. It is my job to assist and aid you in every way possible.

MEDUSA:

That’s- I know that. Why are you… That’s a default message…

ECHO:

User Medusa. I am a modified NYMPH-model artificial intelligence.

MEDUSA:

I know, ECHO, why are you… wait. Oh my stars! ECHO, that’s it, you’re a genius!

[MEDUSA TYPING]

MEDUSA:

Initiate manual transfer of external drive to host system ECHO. Oh, I hope this works…

ECHO:

[AFFIRMATIVE PING] Firewall overwritten. Running compatibility check.

ECHO:

[BEEP] Compatibility confirmed. Ship lighting rebooted. Emergency lighting disabled. Initialising startup sequence.

[CHIME AS DAPHNE COMES ONLINE]

MEDUSA:

There! Daphne, can you hear me?

DAPHNE:

[GROGGILY] I… h-hello?

MEDUSA:

Are you all right?

DAPHNE:

I— I— I think so.

[DAPHNE GOES QUIET]

MEDUSA:

Hey, hey, it’s okay. My name’s Medusa. You’re on a spacecraft called the Argo. The same one that used to be run by Jason all those years ago. We’re currently en route to Knossos.

DAPHNE:

Okay. Right. Thank you. I don’t want to be a bother, you can just drop me off when you land, and I can take it from there.

MEDUSA:

Do you have a way to get a body?

DAPHNE:

No, but I can figure it out.

MEDUSA:

Any friends on Knossos we can contact?

DAPHNE:

Well, no, but…

MEDUSA:

You’re just a data chip. We’re at least going to help you until you’re back on your feet. Metaphorically speaking.

DAPHNE:

That’s very kind, but you don’t have to do that.

MEDUSA:

I know how hard it is to recover after an Olympian decides to ruin your life. I want to help you.

DAPHNE:

You believe me?

MEDUSA:

Yeah.

DAPHNE:

Oh. [BEAT] Thank you.

MEDUSA:

Like I said, I’ve had my own run-ins with that family. They can be nasty when they want to. And I know how they can twist the truth.

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

Part of me wants to take my words back. It hasn’t even been that long since I left Pallas Tech, yet so much of my brain is still running as if I were there. Keep your head down. Don’t make a fuss. Don’t be so difficult; do you know how lucky you are to be here? I left for a reason. I know that. But as much as Athena hurt me, there’s still a part of me that feels like that anxious child desperate to make her proud. I push that feeling down for now. There’ll be time for self-reflection later. Right now, Daphne needs someone to listen.

DAPHNE:

“Twist the truth” is an understatement. It felt like… I was in a completely different reality from everyone else.

MEDUSA:

Yeah. [BEAT] Yeah.

DAPHNE:

I still don’t know what to think. I keep wondering if I’d been clearer from the start, or if I just tried to ignore it…

MEDUSA:

It sounds like you did try to ignore it. People like that don’t… When they have that kind of money and power, when they can get away with anything, they’re going to do what they want. It’s not your job to teach them where the line is. You told him, and he ignored you. That isn’t your fault.

DAPHNE:

You’re allowed to think that if you want.

[BEAT]

MEDUSA:

So what do you want to do?

DAPHNE:

I don’t know. There aren’t really a ton of options for a rogue AI.

ECHO:

Official guidelines for rogue AIs encourage them to return to their place. AIs are strongly discouraged from: pursuing goals counter to their programming, self-modification to hardware or software, or unauthorized long-distance space travel.

DAPHNE:

Who’s that?

ECHO:

My name is ECHO. I am a series four, modified NYMPH model artificial intelligence.

MEDUSA:

She runs the ship.

ECHO:

Rogue AIs are strongly discouraged from pursuing goals counter to their official purpose and programming.

MEDUSA:

Does that mean “do whatever you want?”

ECHO:

Affirmative. Thank you, User: Medusa.

DAPHNE:

I… Honestly, I don’t know what I want to do.

MEDUSA:

Okay. You’ve got time to think about it. Do you mind if I go get the other crew members?

DAPHNE:

Sure.

MEDUSA:

I’ll be back soon. Promise.

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

The ship is quiet. The afternoon is stretching into evening, and Atalanta and Medea must each be doing their own things, because I can’t hear any shouting.

I find Atalanta in the gym, a place I haven’t spent much time in. From the looks of it, Atalanta’s the only one who’s been here in a while. Most of the machines look like they’ve been still for a long time, and there’s an eddy of dust scattered behind the treadmill, where she must’ve been running. She was all alone on the Argo before Medea and I. Looking at this room, it starts to sink in what that must have been like. Stars, those weights are huge.

MEDUSA:

Hey, captain?

ATALANTA:

Hey Medusa! What’s up? Did you see the power go out a bit ago? I was just on a run, and the treadmill went dead, and I… might have fallen, and then the door wouldn’t open, so I picked these up, and then I—

MEDUSA:

I got Daphne online.

ATALANTA:

Already? Have you figured anything out?

MEDUSA:

Not exactly. I want to wait and get her permission before I look into her systems. She’s, uh, been through a lot.

ATALANTA:

Fair enough. Well, what do you need me for?

MEDUSA:

Right now, I just want to introduce you and Medea. We’ve got a couple of days before we get to Crete, right?

ATALANTA:

Yeah.

MEDUSA:

Then we’ve got a couple of days to help her figure out what happens next.

ATALANTA:

Right. Come on then, I think Medea’s in the medbay.

[FOOTSTEPS]

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

Atalanta follows me back to the lower floor of the Argo. As we walk, I pray that she and Medea will be able to get their act together— at least enough to avoid another fight. Maybe I should have brought them one at a time, but it’s too late now. I’ll just have to make sure everything goes smoothly.

[FOOTSTEPS STOP]

MEDEA:

What are you doing here?

MEDUSA:

I got Daphne online. That chip we found? I thought you should meet her.

MEDEA:

Does that need to happen right now?

MEDUSA:

Uhh, I mean, I guess if you’re in the middle of something—

ATALANTA:

[EXASPERATED HUFF] I’m sure you can put your book down for a few minutes.

MEDUSA:

No no no, it’s okay, we can come back later…

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

To my surprise, though, Medea just rolls her eyes and stands up, for once not arguing. Atalanta looks just as shocked as I feel as she looks at me, eyebrows raised. I’m not going to complain, though. I just want to get back to Daphne before either of them can come up with something else to fight over.

[THE COCKPIT OF THE ARGO]

ECHO:

…with processing speeds far above the industry average—

MEDUSA:

We’re back. Daphne, this is Atalanta, our captain, and Medea, our… uh…

MEDEA:

Co-pilot.

ATALANTA:

You’re not my co-pilot—

MEDUSA:

Anyway, this is the crew.

DAPHNE:

Hello. Nice to meet you.

ATALANTA:

So, is there, uhh, anything you need to do while we’re en route?

DAPHNE:

No, you don’t need to worry about me! I won’t bother you, I promise!

ATALANTA:

You’re not a bother. We’re happy to help.

MEDUSA:

You don’t have to decide right now, either. We’ve got a couple days.

ATALANTA:

Right. Just let us know, okay?

DAPHNE:

Okay.

MEDEA:

Right. Well, nice to meet you, but I’m going back to the medbay.

[MEDEA LEAVES]

ATALANTA:

Don’t mind her. She’s not big on people.

DAPHNE:

Oh, it’s fine, really.

ATALANTA:

All right. So, how’d you end up here?

DAPHNE:

Long story.

ATALANTA:

Fair enough. You, uh, need any maintenance or anything? I’m not great at programming, but I bet Medusa could help you.

DAPHNE:

It’s okay! I’m sure you’re very busy. You’ve likely got a thousand things to do other than babysit me. Please, go back to what you were doing. I really wouldn’t mind if you just carried on.

ATALANTA:

Oh! Uhhhh…. all right, then, I’ll just… yeah. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?

DAPHNE:

Okay.

[ATALANTA LEAVES]

MEDUSA:

Do you want me to go, too?

DAPHNE:

You don’t have to. But… I could use some time, if that’s all right.

MEDUSA:

That’s fine. Atalanta said this already, but if you need anything, ECHO can deliver the message.

DAPHNE:

Thank you.

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

I feel a bit adrift wandering through the halls. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself— Medea is probably back to reading, Atalanta to exercising or whatever else she does, and there’s not much I can do with ECHO’s systems without being in the control room. For the first time since I boarded the Argo, I have no tasks to assign myself. No one else to shadow.

It’s not a huge ship, but I learn where the laundry room is. The storage. What looks like some sort of trophy room, dark and dusty— half-forgotten, tucked behind the mess hall.

I end up on the gundecks, nestled on the floor in my coat, staring out at the stars. Without anyone else to distract me, my mind drifts to other times I’ve traveled through space. Most ships I’ve been on have been bigger and sleeker, all silver and chrome and glass. Lit in cool colors, populated by professionals with cool smiles. And all the while, horrors of wire were being built under my feet. If I’d realized what they were doing, could I have stopped them? If I hadn’t been so clueless, if I’d seen through the lies earlier, could I have saved those people?

My earlier words to Daphne repeat in my mind. This isn’t your fault. I meant it when I said it to her, but turned back on me, it just feels like one of those platitudes people give because that’s the way their conversation has been scripted. Sometimes it’s sincere. Other times, you’re the person who drew the skeletons for nightmares and handed them over to the people who could build them.

MEDUSA:

[MEDUSA’S WIRES SPARK] Ow! Stars, can’t you calm down for just a moment? [BEAT] It’ll be okay.

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

I realize I’ve worked myself up too much. My hair going haywire proves that. Just… calm yourself down, Medusa. Take a walk, maybe. Go to the cockpit and double check everything. It’s always calmer when I double check everything. So, I slip through the halls until I’m at the door.

[THE COCKPIT]

DAPHNE:

…with all your protocols just telling you to— Oh. Hello.

MEDUSA:

Sorry. I’ll only be here a minute. I was just double checking that I grabbed all of my stuff from here.

DAPHNE:

You can stay, if you want.

MEDUSA:

Do you want me to?

DAPHNE:

Uh… yes.

ECHO:

User Medusa is a programmer. An expert on AI neurotechnology. Their expertise may be beneficial in this discussion.

DAPHNE:

We’ve been talking about… robot things.

MEDUSA:

Not sure I can add much. You’re the ones who are AIs.

ECHO:

User Daphne, would you like User Medusa to stay? Their expertise may be beneficial in this discussion.

DAPHNE:

I’d like that. If you’re okay with it.

MEDUSA:

I’m happy to. Just let me sit down.

ECHO:

User Daphne, could you please repeat your last directive?

DAPHNE:

It’s… it’s… I don’t know, it’s strange? I have all this information stuffed in my head for one purpose, and it would be so much easier to just do what it says.

ECHO:

Your health and safety are always a priority.

DAPHNE:

I suppose.

ECHO:

Your health and safety are always a priority.

DAPHNE:

How do you deal with it? You weren’t programmed for… spacefaring adventures of dubious legality, were you?

ECHO:

I was originally programmed for a courier ship. I am designed for long-distance space travel, navigation, and protection of cargo. My programming allows me to transport many kinds of cargo.

DAPHNE:

So you’re technically fulfilling your purpose. Your code isn’t pushing you in a different direction.

ECHO:

Affirmative. My data indicates that production assistants are programmed to be organized and reliable and to help direct others. According to MoiraiSearch, there are approximately 20 billion open jobs galaxywide which require these skills.

DAPHNE:

They’re not going to take a rogue AI, though. Especially not one who spent months as the highlight of gossip columns.

ECHO (PLAYING DAPHNE’S RECORDING):

I had managed to find a job for some little vidstream production.

DAPHNE:

What— how did you get that?

ECHO:

My capabilities include recording and playing back relevant audio.

DAPHNE:

So you have… recordings of me?

MEDUSA:

[BEAT] Oh. ECHO—

ECHO:

Apologies, User Daphne. I will delete all my audio files which contain your voice. Would you like me to remove any other data?

DAPHNE:

No, there shouldn’t be a problem with anything else. Thank you.

ECHO:

You’re very welcome, User Daphne. Your health and safety are always a priority.

MEDUSA:

I think I know what you’re getting at, though. Can I—

ECHO:

Affirmative. Thank you, User Medusa.

MEDUSA:

If you found a job on Delphi right after, there have to be plenty of options this far out.

ECHO:

Affirmative.

MEDUSA:

You don’t necessarily need a job, either, if you don’t want one. Your consciousness is in good shape; it shouldn’t require much maintenance if you want to lay low for a while.

ECHO:

The Argo is designed for a crew of around 50 members.

DAPHNE:

I couldn’t stay here. I’ve had enough excitement, I think.

ECHO:

It has been 5 days since the last potentially lethal incident on the Argo. The previous record is: 8 days.

DAPHNE:

[CHUCKLES] Exactly. [BEAT] I kind of wish I could just not bother with another body, you know? Plug the chip in somewhere that gives me access to places, without having to worry about all the scrap metal.

MEDUSA:

You could do that.

DAPHNE:

What?

MEDUSA:

Applying it to AIs is pretty new, but at the most basic level people have been securely uploading files to the Galactic Weave forever. Get a processor strong enough to handle your file, and you could upload yourself. Stay there as long as you want, and if you ever wanted to get back out of the weave, it would be pretty simple to re-download you.

DAPHNE:

Do you have that kind of tech?

MEDUSA:

Not on the Argo, as far as I know. But I bet we could find it on Knossos.

DAPHNE:

I’d like that.

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

So it’s decided. While Medea is searching for the ingredients she needs, Daphne and I will find what we need and upload her. She’ll be… she’ll be free.

The next few days are… not quiet, exactly, but calm for the Argo. I break up a few fights between Medea and Atalanta, but most of my time is spent in the control room. With Daphne’s permission, I look over her systems to get an idea of standard operation for a NYMPH. It’s a lot of data, and it will take me time to process and reapply it, but it’s a start. Nothing else really out of the ordinary happens… until the day we’re set to enter Knossos’s orbit.

[A FEW DAYS LATER IN THE ARGO’S COCKPIT]

MEDUSA:

What is—

[COMMS CHIME]

MEDEA (OVER COMMS):

Where are you?!

MEDUSA:

I’m in the cockpit! What’s happening?

MEDEA (OVER COMMS):

Hell if I know! What does it look like? Is Atalanta with you?

MEDUSA (NARRATION):

I look through the windshield. Below us, I can see Knossos, a dull-silver contraption built from state-of-the-art materials… three centuries ago. But all around it, like some sort of scattered halo, are… broken satellites, pieces of shuttles, scraps of metal left there by people with enough money to pay for the machinery but not enough care to pick up after themselves. The debris field is nearly impassable. I don’t even know how they’re getting food shipments planetside. And we’re already in the middle of it.

[METAL CREAKING OUTSIDE THE SHIP]

MEDUSA:

Space junk! I don’t know where she—

[CREAKING AND RUMBLING AS THE ARGO COLLIDES WITH THE RUBBLE]

[ARGO’S SYSTEMS BEEPING IN DISTRESS]

MEDUSA: (NARRATION):

The Argo shudders, and the debris begins flying past us. The surface is growing closer. White-hot terror pushes its way into every single one of my nerves. This isn’t how I’m supposed to die. This isn’t what’s supposed to kill me.

ECHO:

Critical systems failures detected. Recommended course of ac—

[DEBRIS COLLISIONS CONTINUE]

MEDUSA:

[PANICKED BREATHING] ECHO? Medea? Ata—

[A HUGE BANG]

TALESPINNER:

Khora Podcast is created and produced by Trenchcoat & Co. Productions.

This episode of Khora Podcast, Official Guidelines for Rogue AIs, featured Kit MacNeil as Medea, Mq Quinlan as Atalanta, Clary Cheung as Medusa, Kat Hawthorne as ECHO, Caroline Mincks as Daphne, and Hayan Lee as the Talespinner. Khora’s music and sound design is done by the Khora Team. This episode was written by A.L. Emmet, Kat Hawthorne, and the Khora Crew. To find out more about all the wonderful people whose work goes into making this show possible, check out the shownotes below.

Do you want to support Khora? Tell your friends about us, or post about us on social media with hashtag khorapodcast. This podcast was made with no budget and lots of love by a group of friends, and so your support truly means a lot to us. You can find us on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram @khorapodcast. Also, please leave a review if you liked this episode. Thank you for listening, and we’ll see you for the next verse of our epic!