The baby chuckled and went back to biting at the fur collar. Justinian pulled the collar away and blew a raspberry on his sons fat little cheek. The material in his passive suit bunched up around his right arm as he did so.
The naughty robot wont tell us why were here, will he? He keeps changing the subject! Why has he put us in this danger?
He turned back to face the robot.
Listen, Leslie. You let me think that the EA chose me because of Anya and my work in the Enemy Domain. Now I find my picture stored in the boot space of an AI pod, millions of light years from Earth. How can that be? No tricks, no sidetracking. Just tell me.
All right, the robot said, suddenly firming up before him. The baby turned to look at the dark grey crystal shape that stood in the room. Leslie was really quite beautiful when like this.
This is what I think. The AI pod is about to commit suicide, for whatever reason. Maybe it wants to warn others about what has happened. What to do? It has access to vast libraries of data. Records of every human that has ever lived are stored inside it. It does a search for the human most likely to help it. Is it any wonder that it comes up with the same answer as the EA has? You!
Justinian stared at Leslie, wondering. Maybe it was true. Maybe he was being hasty, wanting to leave the planet. The baby bit at his collar again, then began slobbering over his cheek. Justinian made to push his son away, but stopped as he felt something grip his right arm.
Ow! he said. What on Earth?
Leslie began to blur. The baby was trying to kiss his cheek, and Justinians right arm was caught in a tight grip as he tried to push his son away. The baby didnt like being stopped; he struggled harder. Justinian set his son on the floor and, to the rising sound of crying, began to pull off the top of his passive suit.
Oh shit he whispered, feeling a sweat break out on his forehead. There, on the biceps of his right arm, glistened a BVB.
The flier skimmed at Mach 7 over the sea. Inside it the baby was still crying, and Justinian felt like doing the same, such was his frustration. Leslie was trying to calm him down.
Its not a problem. Once this is over well take you back to Earth to have your arm removed. Theyll have another one on in no time. In the meantime well put a heat bandage around your biceps to keep it warm and stop it shrinking further in the cold.
Im not walking around for two weeks with this thing on me.
Justinian couldnt take his eyes off the black velvet band. It was beautiful in its way: a cold, terrifying beauty in the way it had so gently formed on his arm, underneath the quilt of his passive suit. He had barely noticed it appearing. Not until he had moved his arm.
Leslie was probing the band with his fuzzy hand, silver fingernails flashing in the light.
Its not a problem, Justinian, honestly. Whats the worst that could happen? You go three weeks without an arm. Ill tell you what: if that happens, Ill take one of mine off, too, to keep you company.
Justinian glared at the robot. The worst thing that could happen? What if we wake up and find theres one formed around the babys neck? What if it forms inside his body? There may be one in there already, wrapped around his little heart! Hes a growing child!
Justinian scooped up the baby from the floor and held him close. He felt his sons warm cheek against his own bare chest. The childs tears were cold on Justinians flesh.
Leslie insinuated his way around the cabin, flight chairs sliding out of his way, until he was standing right before Justinian.
His face lost some of its fuzziness; he wanted Justinian to register its sincere expression.
Listen, there is no danger. I monitor you both constantly. If a BVB forms on the baby, we will leave this planet immediately so that it can be operated on. You have my word on that.
He shouldnt have to be operated on! He shouldnt have been put in this danger in the first place!
Even the flight chairs seemed to feel Justinians anger; they were gliding across the floor, heading aft, leaving him with room to pace.
Ive had enough. Im going home! Go and find someone else to be your counselor.
Justinian stared at Leslie, breathing heavily. The robot spread his arms wide in apology.
But Justinian, there is no one else.
Justinian shook his head. I dont believe you. There are billions of humans in space. For goodness sake, there are trillions now, after the expansion of the Enemy Domain. There must be thousands of people out there who could do the job.
The robot remained silent for a moment. His body flickered, becoming fuzzy orange; it seemed to fade into the pattern of the fliers interior. Then, gradually, he resumed his natural grey, crystalline state.
I dont know, Justinian, he said eventually. Im sorry, I just dont know. If I had the choice, I would have sought help elsewhere, but I dont. I was given my instructions by the EA, and it asked for you by name. It obviously thought you were important. Justinian, please. Stay.
No. Justinian glared at the robot. The baby and I are going home. Ship, how long to the spaceport?