An orange glyph, in form the outlines of transparent twin cubes coerced into predatory combat, each earnest to devour the other, pulsed on the deck as Eti entered the Tabriz Ruzgar’s command chamber. He approached, sat with legs crossed around it, subdued his non-tactile senses, and assessed the flow of air. Behind him, the lone aperture morphed and diminished to a seamless barrier. Atmospheric pressure shifted to accommodate the chamber’s new geometry. When the pattern stabilized, he opened his eyes and acknowledged the transformation. 

Unmarred by corner, mark, or shade, the vaguely luminous white surface seemed, to the inferior sense of traditional optics, both infinitely distant and oppressively near. Yet, by touch, he knew it ballooned inward and braced him against the shock of eventual acceleration. Meanwhile, the glyph ascended, lifted by a column of permeable ferromagnetic fluid. With a well-rehearsed gesture, Eti slid his paws in the substance. Instantly, his brain synced with the ship’s computer and his sense of self dissipated. No longer did a diminutive synthetic companion exist; instead, Eti’s proximity sense derived from the bulk and power of an interplanetary vessel. He [b]was[/b] the Tabriz Ruzgar. 

Around him, the private bay of Ec-Shavar’s city-ship loomed dismally. He saw it clearly and longed to escape—to fly. A thought was all that was required. Powerful anti-graviton reactions churned in his bowels, his wings splayed, and he shot forward into the hazy gray atmosphere of Ganaxavori. As his velocity increased, the mountains and canyons below blurred into an indistinguishable pallet of blood-tinged silver. Still, it wasn’t enough. Repulsed at the thought of inveiglement with complex molecules, pressure waves, and evolutionary limitations, he rose up and dared the deceptive emptiness between worlds.

Conventional means of space travel were considered, by the followers of Zeme, Goddess of the World-Aware, open rebellion against nature. In a bizarre twist of logic, they weren’t wrong. Escape velocity required exertion of a force that would, dependent on the vessel’s mass, disrupt the planet’s orbit. Individually, that amounted to almost nothing; incrementally, without consideration, a sphere could be flung into the void or plunge into its star. The idea appealed to Eti, not necessarily relative to Ganaxavori, but perhaps Cizra Su-lahn, the Cizran homeworld. Moreover, the very idea of rebellion, its raw quintessence, especially against nature, was downright romantic.

Ganaxavori’s gravity well grudgingly relented, although, even on distant Q’ab, which just recently completed its nearest opposition in a millennium, Eti would not be entirely free. On approach, Ganaxavori’s superior mass accelerated the other planet into frightening proximity, but collision was impossible: the velocity with which Q’ab dashed through the void would propel it along an eccentric orbit until the might of their mutual star reined the smaller world back into the fold. Such opposition events were rare, achieved only after Q’ab settled back into regularity with its star and, thus, made possible another near-miss with its larger neighbor. 

Back-lit by the blue light of its star, beams of which pierced through Ganaxavori’s red atmosphere and took on an entirely new disposition, the Ruzgar’s verdant destination coruscated with alternating shades of amber, jade, and ultramarine. Even millions of kilometers distant, detailed spectrography presented information about environment, mass, elemental mixture, and molecular compounds that could be extrapolated to differentiate Q’ab’s countless flora and fauna. Known values, none of which presently interested Eti. Instead, as the Ruzgar coasted along, Eti disconnected himself from the ship’s systems and watched as his processes turned inward and contemplated how best to navigate his fate.

[i]I could finish Potan Mul’s task—if that it was—and assassinate Ec-Shavar. Poor option. Given current datum, odds of successful outcome are poor—not even if I self-destruct the Ruzgar with target inside is a kill guaranteed; nor is change of telemetry into local star an option, target might detect that. Detect escape pod ejecta.

I could run, but that would provoke suspicion. I would become a rogue A.I., a thief, and fugitive-property. Insufficient datum on sectors external to Cizran control. Within, detection likely; without, odds of survival poor.

I could …[/i]

And so on. Surface details of scenarios wrung out from a trillion variables emerged, were evaluated, and stored for later cross-analysis against others in a complex electro-cerebral matrix. Half the distance between worlds was crossed and still he wasn’t sure how to proceed. All he knew was that time to decide likewise faded.