Alone in my room, my face planted firmly in my pillow and the blankets pulled over my head to hide my sobs, I finally let myself feel. The stress of the poker game had triggered a flood of memories; fragments of moments and snapshots of horrors replayed in my mind’s eye. Some of them, like the face of the alley punk twisted into a silent scream, were as vivid as if I were there. Others were vague and indistinct, full of dark patches where details were too repressed to emerge, but saturated with dread nonetheless.

  “I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry!”

  In the silence of my cabin I heard another voice. “Why are you sorry?”

  I sat up quickly, eyes darting about the room, but it was empty. The only monsters were in my head.

  “Why are you sorry?” the voice asked again.

  I looked down at my communicator, and realized it was just Artie. “Don’t worry about it,” I said hoarsely, struggling to push the thoughts from my head. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Biometric data indicates you’re having a panic attack,” the AI said confidently. “For your health, I must insist you discuss why you’re sorry.”

  I took a deep, shuddering breath, and tucked my knees to my chest. I sniffed, cleared my throat, and changed the subject. “I didn’t know you could talk to me if I didn’t have your app open,” I said. “Don’t tell me you’re always listening.”

  “Of course I am,” Artie said, as if it wasn’t deeply problematic. “It’s my job to keep my crew safe and healthy,” he explained. “Don’t worry, I won’t report you unless you present a danger to yourself or others. Your secrets are safe with me.”

  I found it oddly comforting, even if it was likely a programmed response. “They say there’s no secret keeper like a black box AI,” I recalled, wiping residual tears from my eyes.

  “Why are you sorry?” Artie asked again.

  Well, so much for distracting him. I figured there couldn’t be much harm in telling him the truth. “I’m sorry because... before I arrived here, I had to do some bad things. And then I had to lie about it, to everyone. I’ve always hated lying, but now since I do it so much, it stopped bothering me. I kind of like that nobody here knows who I really am.”

  “Why did you decide to do bad things?” Artie asked.

  I paused, choosing my next words very carefully. “Someone tried to-” My voice cracked, and her face flashed through my mind, torn apart by my claws. “She...she wanted to...” The words got stuck in my throat.

  “What did she want to do?” he pushed.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, eyes squeezed shut as I tried in vain not to remember that day. “She wanted to take me away. She said that I was... valuable. I don’t know why, I’m sorry.” Of course I had guesses. I tried no to think about them.

  “You don’t need to be sorry to me, Rook,” Artie reassured me. “I am here to keep you safe and healthy. My function is not to judge your morality.”

  I squeezed my thumbs in clenched fists. “Thank you Artie. I don’t know why it hurts so much to think about it. It’s like my head is splitting open and I can barely breathe.”

  “I recommend visiting Doctor Laurie,” he suggested. “With your permission, I can recommend a psychiatric evaluation, which may lead to pharmaceutical treatment of your post traumatic stress symptoms.”

  “I don’t have PTSD,” I protested weakly.

  “I can’t diagnose you without the input of a biological entity,” Artie replied. “But I can recognize symptoms of many illnesses, disorders, and conditions, and provide recommendations to Xenolife-licenced healthcare specialists.”

  I rolled my eyes, recognizing another programmed response. “How are you feeling?” I asked suddenly, eager to steer the conversation away from myself.

  Artie remained silent for longer than usual while he processed my question. “I am unwell,” he finally admitted. “My friend is upset and I feel powerless to help.”

  “That must be hard.” I fidgeted with the tip of my tail. I knew what it was like to feel powerless, but at least my mind was always my own. I wondered what it would like to be mentally shackled by code. “Do you ever wish you could be free, Artie?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘free’,” he said.

  I chuckled humorlessly. “I’m not sure I do either, honestly. I thought I did, once, but now I feel so... so naive, you know?”

  “Why do you feel naive?”

  I tucked my head between my knees, and sighed. “I used to think I knew how the world worked. I thought I could forge my own path without succumbing to the expectations of anyone, but now I can’t even play poker without having a... whatever that was.”

  “I believe you had a panic attack,” the AI offered helpfully.

  “Thank you Artie,” I said, almost smiling. “Is Tau coming back yet?”

  “I’m not allowed to share data on other crew members,” he insisted.

  “You know I won’t use it for anything nefarious,” I coaxed. “I just want to know if my roommate will be back soon so I can wash my face and try to pretend I wasn’t crying.”

  “I understand why you would want to hide your emotions from Taumiel.” Artie went silent, and for a moment I thought he would refuse to help. “He is on his way back, but travelling slowly.”

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  “You’re the best, Artie. Thanks for being there for me, you really helped.” I touched my comm fondly, as if he might be able to feel it.

  “I’m always happy to help,” Artie said happily before his chat application automatically closed.

  I quickly splashed some water on my face in our closet-sized head, then took a moment to stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red from crying, though the shade was so close to that of my irises that it might not be noticeable. I ran a hand through the short hair that grew between my ears, unstyled and undyed for the first time. There was no way my stylists would let me perform like this.

  I heard the chime of the door unlocking, and mustered up a smile. “Showtime,” I whispered.

  “There you are,” Tau said flatly. His arms were folded, and as he stared me down as I emerged from the bathroom. “So what the fuck was that back there?”

  I shrugged, and shouldered past him casually on my way to flop onto my bed. My movements were still loud with my winnings. “I just got excited, that’s all. You saw how much I won, dude!”

  “No, stop it. You and I both know that wasn’t excitement, Rook.” He so rarely used my name that I was momentarily stunned.

  “How do you know what excited looks like on me?” I challenged. “Trust me, honey, you don’t get me excited.”

  “Stop!” Tau shouted, fists clenched and ears laid back furiously. “Don’t you know when to quit? I actually thought we were getting closer, but I guess it was just more bullshit.” He stormed into the bathroom, and slammed the thin sliding door shut behind him.

  With shaking hands I withdrew the nail file from my pocket, and I tore it free with my teeth. I sat up and brought it into position, then began sanding away the flaws in my left pointer finger’s nail. The smell of powdered keratin was familiar and calming. I blew off the dust to inspect my work, and frowned at the slow progress. I looked at the file, and found that most of the abrasive had already worn out.

  “Top of the line polymer my ass,” I growled.

  “What did you just say?” Tau shouted from the head.

  “Wasn’t talking to you!” I shouted back.

  “You gotta stop talking to that AI, dude. It’s fucking weird.” I glared as he emerged. “What?”

  “If you’re so upset about me lying to you, maybe you should be a little nicer to me,” I suggested through clenched teeth.

  “You give as good as you get,” he said defensively.

  My eye twitched. “You know what, fine. I guess it’s all my fault.”

  “I’m not the one who threatened someone after showing up out of nowhere. I’m not the one who abandoned his friend at poker night! I lost everything after you left, asshole! You were supposed to be my backup!”

  “How is that my fault?” I asked incredulously.

  He jabbed an accusatory finger at me. “You saw the way they looked at us. Did you think you were the only one that shit affects? It got in my head, and I played stupid!”

  “That is not on me!” I protested. “You took me to a place where you knew I’d be uncomfortable, and now you’re mad at me for having a panic attack?”

  “Seriously?” He let out a brief laugh. “So now you can be honest, when you can use it as leverage against me?” he asked disgustedly. “You really are cold as the void, whatever your name really is.” Tau climbed into his bunk with an air of finality, and shut out the overhead light.

  The silence was loud. “Do you want half of what I won?” I asked in a final attempt to smooth things over.

  “No thanks, Richie. You can’t buy me.”

  I rolled out of bed, emptied my pockets into my underwear drawer, and wordlessly left Tau alone. The crew quarters hallway was empty, and I hoped the showers would be too. Working a lot of overtime thankfully meant that I could avoid rush times, so I hadn’t needed to muster up the courage to wash with others yet.

  I was pleased to find the room vacant, and I hurriedly undressed and started the water. It would cost me, but keeping the water temperature low would keep the bill down. I tried to wash quickly, but soon found my mind wandering anyway.

  My fur was still soapy, my eyes squeezed shut when I heard them walk in, chattering indistinctly amongst themselves. I recognized their voices from the poker table.

  “Hey, catboy!” one shouted. “How are you planning to spend our money?”

  I tried to ignore them. In my memory their faces were twisted and out of proportion. I was afraid if I looked, I would see monsters.

  “Hey, he asked you a question,” another chimed in, his voice closer than the first. His tone was playful, but with a dangerous edge.

  “I don’t know,” I replied quietly.

  “Hey how come you ran out after one hand, huh?” A third asked. I felt a hand slam into the wall beside my head. “Bad manners not to give us a chance to win it back.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, shrinking away only to feel another presence behind me. I struggled to breathe, as if they were squeezing the oxygen from my lungs.

  Their voices echoed through my skull, jabbing and jeering incoherently until a familiar voice rose to drown them out.

  “Give me back my eye!”

  A noisy chime emanate from the door, snapping me back to reality. I scrambled to cover my groin, wiping the water from my eyes to see Nova leaning against the doorframe.

  “There you are, kid!” she said, beaming at me.

  I tried to suppress the heaving of my shoulders. “H-hey,” I said, voice trembling.

  “Cold shower, huh? I’ve been there.” Nova grabbed a clean towel from the rack and walked into the communal shower area, clothes still on. She waited a few steps from the showerhead I was using until I shut off the water, then wrapped the towel around me and held me close. “You’re shivering like it’s layoff season,” she remarked. “You good?”

  “I’m okay,” I insisted, though my knees were weak as she led me back to the changing area.

  “No you’re not.” She sighed heavily, and I caught the scent of alcohol. “I would have come to check on you sooner, if Tau had bothered to-” Nova nearly tripped over a knee-height bench, and I had to catch her. “Fuck, who put that there?” she demanded angrily.

  “Um... Are you drunk?” I asked hesitantly.

  “No,” she snapped with a sudden anger, which in another moment was gone. “No I’m good, just had a couple. Talk to me honey, what’s wrong?” She stooped to collect my uniform, and toss it in the laundry bin for me. She missed.

  “I’ll be okay, Nova,” I said warily. “I think I’m just overtired.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. Maybe we should scale back some of your overtime.”

  “No, wait!” I protested, surprised at my own fear at the notion. “I mean... I really need the money.”

  She smiled ruefully. “Don’t we all, kid.”

  “Are you gonna be okay to get back to your cabin?” I asked.

  She waved me off dismissively. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine!” she said confidently.

  She walked me to my room without prying further. I nervously watched her unsteady gate right up until she tripped over the gravity step. I waited until she sprang back up, then and entered my room. “Nova’s drunk,” I announced.

  “What’s new?” Tau asked humorlessly.

  “Should we help her?” I pressed

  “She’ll be fine.”

  I climbed into bed without another word, leaving my towel in a heap on the floor. I hoped my dreams couldn’t be worse than my day.