The group was starving by the time they reached Ambrosia. The food from Elegy’s trailer was only meant for a short trip and only for two people. Reggie had insisted it on rationing it, giving each of them small, evenly sized portions each day. It seemed unfair to Elegy, but since he was unable to think of a better distribution, he kept his mouth shut.

On the bridge, Elegy watched Ambrosia float on one of the viewscreens, and tried to grasp the enormity of this experience. This was a whole new planet, an unimaginable distance from everything Elegy knew. His entire world was separate from everyone here. They might not even know Lasstop existed. However, he couldn’t imagine stepping off this ship into anything other than the familiar.

Reggie made a satisfied grunt at some reading and typed away on a console. Suddenly a voice cut through the bridge. “Flight control. This is Mark. Send us your specs and we’ll get you a landing time and location.”

Reggie heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. Listen, our ship’s held together with chewing gum. I don’t know if it’s going to survive reentry. I can keep it in orbit, if you can send a shuttle up for us.” He spoke to no one in particular. Elegy assumed that there must be a microphone somewhere nearby.

“There will be an additional charge,” the voice replied, in a bored tone that suggested that he was both expecting an argument that he’d had a thousand times.

“Charge?” Reggie asked. “Additional?”

“In addition to your orbital monitoring fee. How will you be paying?”

Reggie desperately looked to Elegy and Madeline.

“I have access to the Surveyors’ account,” Elegy suggested.

Madeline shook her head. “If it even works here, they’ll be able to trace it.”

“We don’t exactly have any money right now,” Reggie said nervously. “We’ll be able to get some after we get to the surface but, uh, is there any way you could take some collateral in the meantime?”

“We can bill it to your ship’s registration, which we can pull from the metadata of your transmission,” the dull voice responded. “You can pay us back before returning to your ship.”

“That will do nicely,” Reggie said.

A few hours later, Reggie led the others to the airlock where they boarded a much smaller ship driven by a cheerful Benefactor woman who was excited to recommend restaurants near where they would be landing. Elegy wondered if she was even a Benefactor. He wasn’t sure what counted anymore.

“Alright, as soon as we’ve got some food in us, we’re going to look for a mechanic,” Reggie explained. “Then we’ll probably want a pilot with a little more experience than me, and we’ll need to find out what we can about the Queen. Her current location and layout and so forth. Thankfully, it’s morning here. Lucky us, we’re close to the same schedule as this region.”

“How are we going to get food with no money?” Madeline asked.

“Shit.”

“As a matter of fact, I may be able to help you,” the shuttle pilot said. “I know a mechanic with piloting experience and who’s been to the Queen.”

“‘Been to’?” Elegy asked.

“On delivery runs,” the woman replied as if that would explain everything.

The group shared a confused look. “What gets delivered to the Queen?” Reggie asked.

The woman shrugged, her eyes on her shuttle window and the slowly-growing planet before them. “Whatever those Queen-worshipers think will keep her from destroying us all.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Elegy replied. “The Queen doesn’t want anything except to destroy. Giving her offerings is madness.”

On Lasstop, there were many people who behaved irrationally, sometimes even against their own interests. Degeneracy took many forms, like eating unhealthy or refusing to work, but worshiping the Queen and trying to earn her favor was far beyond anything the bishops had ever described. Elegy had always imagined that other planets were more enlightened, populated entirely by Benefactors who happily supported their divine corporation. But maybe other planets were just like his, full of confused people who needed the guidance of the Arvakr Corporation.

“I don’t really think about theology much, but returning to the matter at hand, her name’s Tiffany Brink. She’ll be happy to feed you, too. She can’t stand to see people hungry. Plus, she’s discreet. Won’t ask too many questions about how three people ended up starving in a busted-up passenger ship with no food or money and wearing clothes with the Arvakr symbol.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s an odd situation, but we don’t have anything to hide,” Elegy replied.

“Yes we do,” Madeline interjected.

“The short version is that we’re going to kill the Queen,” Elegy finished.

“Like that, for example,” Reggie sighed. He rubbed his forehead in annoyance.

“Yeah, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” the pilot said. “After all, everyone knows better than to try to do that. Any time someone tries to attack the Queen they inevitably fail and then the Queen retaliates and everyone else pays the price.”

Reggie stiffened and his face became unsettled. “How many times has that happened?”

“It’s anyone’s guess. We’re not any more knowledgeable about the state of the universe than whatever planet you come from. Travel is limited and no one knows how many planets were settled, or where they’re located. Or how many of them are still alive. But Ambrosia’s only been directly attacked twice.”

“What happened?” Reggie asked quietly.

“The first time was during the big war. They say the entire settlement was razed. All the ships too, isolating the planet for a couple of centuries. The survivors had to rebuild from the ground up, and rediscover as much tech as they could, since the loss of data was basically universal. The second attack was during the Alsvidr Campaign, about five hundred years ago. That was the first time the Queen altered physics. When she made it impossible to recreate self-aware AI. Destroyed our largest cities, too. After that, we were affected any time she made some piece of tech or another stop working, but she never attacked us directly again.”

She said all this with a matter-of-fact cheerfulness that chilled Elegy, especially when he saw the tears forming in Reggie’s eyes.

The conversation died off after that. The pilot adjusted the shuttle as she entered the planet’s atmosphere, so that they were descending at a slight angle instead of making a nose dive directly towards the ground. They flew over the ocean for a short time before buildings appeared in the distance. Unlike the carefully planned glass structures Elegy was used to, this city’s buildings were a random mixture of tall and small, mostly concrete, with no sense that any of it had been planned or coordinated.

“Recognize anything?” Madeline asked.

Reggie shook his head. “I only visited once. Back then, there was only one city and a few smaller settlements and communes. But I don’t know whether this city is built on the ruins of the one I knew or whether we’re on the opposite hemisphere.”

The ship continued its smooth descent, eventually landing at a drab, cramped dock that lacked the forested backdrop and viewing area of the Lasstop dock. With a friendly “Welcome to Ambrosia!” from the pilot, they stepped out of the shuttle. Elegy immediately started shivering in the surprisingly crisp air. It was as cold as nighttime.

“Is it always this chilly here?” Madeline asked.

“It’s probably one of their colder seasons,” Reggie replied. He started walking, following the directions the pilot had given the group.

Elegy trailed after. “Seasons?”

“Do you not have seasons on Outpost Thirty? Not every planet does,” Reggie replied.

“You’re referring to the growth cycles of plants?” Madeline asked in a doubtful tone.

“No. To put it simply, some planets have cycles of their own. Periods of warmth and cold, depending on their orbit or how they’re angled. Actually, the days are probably a different length here, too.”

That thought unsettled Elegy. How unmoored was he? His purpose in life was gone, the things he’d been taught were in question, and now even his days were different lengths? He couldn’t stop thinking about that detail. How long would it be before the sun set? How much colder would it get? When would he sleep? Where would he sleep? He found himself gasping for air and desperately reached out and touched Reggie’s elbow. He glanced back at Elegy, then halted.

“Woah. Are you okay, buddy? Let’s get you over to that bench.” Reggie indicated a bench where the dock exited onto the street. He led the shaking Elegy over to it where the two sat down. Madeline stood nearby, looking concerned and a little uncomfortable.

“You want to hold my hand?” Reggie asked. Without a word, Elegy took the hand he offered and squeezed it.

“You need some water? We’ll get you to some food soon, I promise,” he continued, voice filled with worry. “This Brink lady isn’t too far from here.”

“No. I’m sorry,” Elegy replied between gasps. “I shouldn’t get emotional and slow things down like this. I just feel like I don’t know where I’m going to be in the next five minutes. Everything’s different. Literally everything.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get there soon enough. Take all the time you need.”

Elegy was impressed with Reggie’s patience. The bishops would have been annoyed by an outburst like that at all, and furious if it happened in public. But Reggie seemed to be nothing but concerned. He offered Elegy all of the patience Madeline once had, but he wasn’t acting in a role given to him by others. He had chosen to show patience to Elegy simply because he liked him.

After a few minutes, Elegy felt his breathing steady and finally, he stood and the group continued. He was surprised to find that the people they saw looked very similar to those he saw back on Lasstop. Their clothes were a bit more varied, a little more mismatched, and they wore coats to protect against the cold, far from the bizarre, alien styles Elegy had imagined. It occurred to him that this was likely a result of the Benefactors’ influence. They did seem to have an influence on Lasstopian style. No one seemed to pay any particular attention to the three people dressed identically, much to Elegy’s relief.

They reached a street which was much more crowded than the others. It appeared to be a business district, but it was completely unlike the peaceful shopping centers Elegy was accustomed to. Open storefronts offered everything from clothes to home decor to pieces of tech, and their clerks bustled back and forth, often helping two or three customers at the same time. Apparently this street wasn’t meant for vehicles because wheeled food stands dotted the avenue, often giving off enticing smells that reminded Elegy of how hungry he was. The crowd was energetic; people seemed to be moving everywhere at once. A child dashed past carrying a sphere-shaped piece of tech, pursued by a tall woman wielding a wrench. Elegy was relieved for the moment of rest he had taken earlier, because the sensation of people walking past in different directions was unsettling.

Eventually they found a building with an open garage door revealing a workshop loaded with various machines in different states of assembly. It had a sort of surface-level disorganized look about it that reminded Elegy of Epic’s bedroom. It always looked like a disorderly mess, but she never had any problem finding anything. In fact, Elegy lost things more often than she did. He suspected that the owner of this garage was similar in that regard. Since it appeared to be a repair shop, the locals passed by it without paying it much notice. However, Reggie led the group directly to it.

“I think this is it,” he announced.

“Looks like the place the pilot described,” Madeline agreed.

They stepped inside and looked around, searching for signs of the shop’s owner.

A woman stepped out of a side door that looked like it led to a kitchen. “Did you get—Oh! Hello, there.”

The sight of her had adrenaline flooding Elegy’s veins. Next to him, Madeline gave an audible gasp. She was a strange mixture of beauty and horror. Her soft skin didn’t look quite right, as if it was made of something other than skin. Her blonde hair had several small bald spots and in one spot her scalp had been scraped away entirely, revealing what appeared to be her skull. She wore a floral sundress which revealed the spot where her right shoulder suddenly became a metal arm that ended in a two-pronged claw instead of a hand. Her left arm and legs, too, were marked with tears and cuts, many of which seemed to be sewn or glued together.

“Hello.” Reggie sounded a little uncomfortable. “We’re looking for Tiffany Brink. Are you hers?”

The woman smirked. “Yeah. I’m hers. She’ll be back soon. Are you here to get something repaired?”

Reggie nodded  “Yes.”

The woman paused expectantly. “Well? What do you need?”

“It’s rather complicated,” Reggie explained. “We should probably speak with Ms. Brink directly.”

The woman heaved an exaggerated sigh. “As you wish. If you would like to have a seat, my mistress will return shortly.” She spoke with an obviously feigned politeness as she gestured to a couch on the far wall. “In the meantime, is there any way I can help you?”

The so-far casual conversation had finally given Elegy enough courage to speak. “Why do you look like that?” he asked.

“Because we’re poor as hell,” the woman replied dryly. She grabbed a rag from one of the tables and started cleaning a piece of machinery. 

The others made their way to the couch. “She’s a gynoid, Elegy,” Reggie explained.

“What’s a gynoid?” Madeline asked.

“An artificial intelligence so complex that it’s debatably sapient made to look like a realistic human woman,” Reggie said quietly as he sat. The others joined him.

“That’s horrible,” Madeline said.

Elegy gave them a confused look. “Why? It sounds amazing.”

Madeline shot him a dirty look. “What do you think a robot like that is built for?”

Elegy felt himself growing nervous. He must have said something wrong, but he had no idea what. “I don’t know. Why do people have kids? They always say it’s to ‘create life’ and stuff. Is this really different?”

“I see where you’re coming from, but if you make a gynoid, you need to create base desires or she won’t do anything but sit there,” Reggie explained. “After that, she’ll grow and develop on her own, but those basic desires will always be central. She’ll always be what you told her to be.”

Elegy thought about that for a moment. “Couldn’t I just make her interested in learning and making friends?”

Reggie gave him a soft smile. “You’re a good person, Elegy.”

Madeline, on the other hand, looked unsatisfied.

“You know I can hear what you’re saying, right?” the gynoid said from her worktable.

At that moment, another woman entered the garage. Elegy instantly recognized her as the woman with the wrench who had chased the child. She was tall and slender, lacking any curves. She was dressed in a greasy shirt and cargo pants. Her brown skin sported a large birthmark on her left cheek.

“No luck?” the gynoid asked.

The woman tossed her wrench onto a table. “No. Fuck, I’m so sorry, Fella. I should have worked with the door shut today.”

The gynoid crossed the room to embrace the newcomer. “It’ll be okay, Cockroach. We’ll figure something else out.”

The woman held Fella close. “He doesn’t even know how much it’s worth. He’ll probably just sell it to buy a meal. I would have given him food if he’d just asked.”

“I know. But listen, maybe he’s with one of the local gangs. If he tells them where he stole it, they’ll bring it right back.”

“Maybe, but that’s a long shot.” She pushed out of the hug, holding Fella’s shoulders at arm length to look in her eyes. “We’ll get another one. We’ll just have to work harder. This isn’t the end.”

“I know, Cockroach.”

For the first time, the woman called Cockroach seemed to notice the visitors. “Who are the Arvakr yahoos?”

“They’re here for a repair job,” Fella replied.

“Yeah? What are we fixing?”

“No idea. They’d like to talk to Ms. Brink directly.” Fella said the words “Ms. Brink” in a saccharine tone.

The woman approached her prospective customers and sat down on a table nearby, crossing her legs. “I’m Tiffany Brink. What do you need?”

“It’s a bit of a story,” Reggie began. “But before we get into that, the person who sent us here told us you could also get us food?”

Tiffany shrugged. “There’s, like, a million food stands outside. Go get some.”

“We don’t have any money,” Reggie explained. “We have some equipment we can sell once we get settled, but the truth is we haven’t had a full meal in some time and we’re all very hungry.”

Tiffany gave a sigh. “Alright. I’ll get you something, but that’s going on your bill.”

She started to rise, but Fella cleared her throat. “You haven’t given me any today, remember?”

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Fine. Get us some deep fried chili dogs.”

Fella grinned and stepped out of the garage.

The mechanic gave her customers a more cautious, appraising look. “Okay, so what’s going on?” She sounded more patient now.

“Our ship is in a serious state of disrepair,” Reggie began. “Enough that it’s currently in orbit because we were afraid to land it. I don’t know how extensive the damage is. It may need a spacedock and a team to repair it, in which case we’ll probably sell what parts we can and hire another ship.”

Tiffany nodded. “I can give you an assessment to start with. We’ll head up as soon as you’ve eaten and decide how to proceed after that.”

“We were also told you had experience as a pilot,” Reggie added.

Tiffany shook her head. “I don’t do that anymore.”

Reggie’s face fell. “Are you sure you wouldn’t consider making an exception? I have a very important job to do.”

“Not a chance.”

“It’s okay,” Elegy interjected, trying to comfort Reggie. “We just need someone who has been to the Queen before, right? We should be able to find someone else easily enough, right?”

The mechanic let out a laugh. “You’re wanting me to take you to the Queen? And you didn’t lead with that?”

At that moment, Fella returned with a pair of paper trays in one hand and another two balanced on her claw.

“Fella, they want a pilot to take them to the Queen,” Tiffany called out.

Fella let out a snort. “And they think they’re going to talk you into making another trip?”

They both shared a laugh. Reggie gave his companions an uncomfortable look.

“Come on, try these. They’re amazing,” Tiffany said, taking two of the trays from Fella and offering them.

Elegy took one and examined it. He had never seen a less appealing dish before. It looked like a disgusting half-eaten mess and he suspected that whoever had invented it had not bothered to consider whether it was meant to be eaten by hand or with utensils. However, the smell of the meat was powerful enough to make it tempting to bite into it without hesitation. Elegy glanced over to Reggie to see how he ate it. He picked it up by the bun, trying and failing to avoid getting the sloppy meaty sauce on his hands, and took a bite. Accepting that he was going to have to avoid touching anything else until his meal was over, Elegy picked his up and took a bite.

He had assumed that he would devour it quickly. His hunger was great enough that it would have demanded he scarf down any normal meal. However, the rich, greasy flavor of this dish overwhelmed Elegy’s taste and he wondered if he would even be able to finish it without becoming sick. It wasn’t that he disliked it, in fact he found it delicious, but its flavor had a power to it that he hadn’t expected.

“This is pretty good,” Reggie said after swallowing. “Tastes like a carnival.”

“You know, you really ought to take the pilot job, too,” Elegy said between bites. “If you don’t do work you can’t make money.”

“I can do work here,” Tiffany said, her mouth full.

Elegy could see the mistake she was making.

“Listen to me, Cockroach,” he began. Using her nickname was a good way to create a sense of friendliness and connection. He’d seen the bishops use the trick with their underlings. “You need money right now, right? To afford one of…whatever that thing was. What pays more, a week of normal repair jobs or a week working as a pilot?”

“Depends on the week,” Tiffany replied, an incredulous look on her face.

“Right, but this is guaranteed money. Plus, you could take some of your repair work with you and work on it during the trip. You would be receiving the standard pay for piloting work, plus whatever you can make from your repair work.”

Tiffany began to laugh, covering her mouth to keep from spitting out her food. When she finally calmed down enough to swallow she said “Standard pay? For a Queen run? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“You’re never going to get anywhere if you don’t take the work that comes to you, Cockroach,” Elegy said.

“It’s Tiffany. Cockroach is what my friends call me,” Tiffany said sharply. “And I ain’t going to get anywhere if I die helping a bunch of idiots on a suicide job. Why do you want to go to the Queen, anyway?”

“To kill her,” Reggie said, his tone serious. Elegy was surprised. Wasn’t he trying to keep this secret? Was there a reason he trusted Tiffany?

Tiffany’s eyes widened. She clearly hadn’t expected that. “Kill her? Just the three of you? You know entire militaries have tried, right?”

“Not the three of us,” Reggie corrected. “Just me.”

“Okay. I’ll bite. How?”

“My body was altered to produce a chemical designed by the same scientist who created the Queen.”

Tiffany held up a finger. “Okay, first of all, the Queen was created by humans?”

“Yes, by the Arvakr Corporation,” Reggie explained.

“The fuel company?” Fella asked incredulously.

“A thousand years ago, it was a biotech company. They produced the Queen to serve as an orbital weapon, offering her protection to any country who hired them.”

Tiffany blinked. “You’re trying to tell me that the alien goddess who has menaced humanity for centuries was a protection racket?”

Elegy stared at Reggie in shock and tried to process this new information. The Arvakr Corporation, the same people who claimed to protect her planet from the Queen, had created her in the first place? He thought that he should feel more betrayed by this news, but having already accepted that the Arvakr Corporation had lied to him his whole life, he found that an additional lie made little difference.

“More than that,” Reggie continued. “She’s a person. A human who was experimented on without being told what would happen to her and twisted into that monster. She’s completely alone, knowing only misery and rage. Ending her life is an act of mercy.”

“Shit,” Tiffany said in a tone of someone receiving bad news about a friend’s distant family member. “If that’s true, that’s pretty fucked up. I hope you can find someone to help you.”

“Look, if you don’t believe me, I can get you proof from my ship’s records,” Reggie said, sounding annoyed.

Tiffany shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Even if every word is true, I’m not doing a Queen run.”

“You won’t do it even to ease the pain of an innocent? Or to help save countless future lives?” Reggie asked.

“I’ve got my own life to protect,” Tiffany explained. “And Fella. A few years ago, I probably would have jumped at the chance to help you, but that’s not where I am now. I don’t have to be the person who saves the world.”

“Take our ship,” Madeline said suddenly.

“What?” Reggie asked.

“After we complete our job, you can have our ship and everything on it. There’s a bunch of old tech you could probably sell for good money. I don’t know what it was that you lost today, but it sounds like it was something vital. Something expensive. And it looks like your...friend, there could use some repair.”

“More like a whole new body,” Fella muttered.

“So take everything we’ve got. I don’t know what it’s worth, but I’m sure at least some of it must be valuable.”

Reggie laughed as though this were a joke. “Madeline, I’m not giving her the ship.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because it’s all I have,” Reggie replied.

“So? You just talked about how important it is to destroy the Queen. You’ve already lost everything to complete that mission. You already told Ms. Brink it’s worth risking her life to save those countless lives. So why not give her everything you can if her help is so important?”

Tiffany, meanwhile, was sharing a long look with Fella. She turned back to face Madeline. “Your ship has an FTL engine? I get that, too?”

Madeline nodded. “Of course.”

The mechanic thought for another moment. “Alright, I’ll admit I’m interested. I’m not agreeing to anything yet, but I’m already going to take a look at what you’ve got. If it’s really worth anything, I’ll think about it.”

Madeline gave something between a nod and a bow. “Thank you for your consideration, Ms. Brink.”

Tiffany grinned. “Call me Cockroach.”