Star Crossed (Harem Station 2)

We all want to leave. We all want to find girls, and go drinking, and have fun.

In other words, we all want to live. Not just exist.

ALCOR has called a meeting today in the common room where we sleep and hang out. It’s like a pod, I guess. Everyone has their own private quarters around the perimeter of the circular room. There’s a kitchen, and some screens, and we have access to the net. Which satisfies our need for porn.

And Tray has been working on the virtual-reality sector—which he calls the Pleasure Prison—so we have that. He’s made some cool places in there—a whole other galaxy, actually. Suns with systems and habitable planets. Ships that can travel faster than light. Cities and small towns on the planets. And no money required to do whatever you want. There’s also people. Millions of fake people.

But still. It’s not the same. It’s not… real.

Something’s gotta give.

We can’t stay here like this. ALCOR Station might be our home, but it’s also a prison.

“I don’t know what to do,” Xyla says, pulling me out of my introspection.

“Just replace it all,” Jimmy says. “And get armor instead.”

“What are you guys talking about?” I ask.

“Xyla. She doesn’t want to look like a sex bot anymore.”

“That’s not what I said. I don’t want to change me, just change the way people perceive me. So they don’t think I’m just here for sex.”

“We don’t think you’re here for sex, Xyla.” I laugh a little. Because… no. She’s like a sister to us, not a sex bot.

“Not you,” she says. “The others.”

“What others?” everyone but Jimmy, Tray, and Xyla says. And you can’t miss the eagerness and excitement in our voices.

“That’s why we’re here,” ALCOR says, morphing into a hologram in the center of the room. “I’ve decided we’re ready.”

“Ready for what?” Luck asks.

ALCOR spreads his arms wide. “For all of it. We need people. Real people. I’ve had bots working on building you ships.”

“Ships!” Serpint says. “Fuck, yeah!”

“And I’ve developed an advertising campaign for the net. We’re going to change our name.”

“To what?” I ask.

“Harem Station.” ALCOR beams in the center of the room like this is the most brilliant name ever.

“Why?” I ask. “That implies we have girls here, and clearly we do not.”

“But we will,” ALCOR says. “We will have lots of girls. That,” he says, pointing to Draden and Serpint, “is your new job. You are now official bounty hunters for the new Harem Station.”

“Oh, hell, yeah,” Draden says, doing a little dance. “We’re gonna go and get some girls.”

“You mean steal them?” I ask.

ALCOR smiles at me. “Not steal. Convince. That’s all. Convince them to join us. We’re going to need a lot of girls, because boys, I have a vision for the future. We’re going to turn Harem Station into the preeminent place for outlaw fun. I want the desperate, the jaded, the lost, the ruthless. I want pirates, and assassins, and bounty hunters, and soldiers. I want all the people this galaxy rejects. I want the Prime Navy—”

“Who?” Valor asks. “Who the fuck is the Prime Navy?”

“Oh,” ALCOR says. “I forgot. I didn’t share that with you.”

“Share what?” I ask. I never know if this AI truly cares about us, is just using us, or is prepping us for some bigger, unknown part in some diabolical plan. But he’s always made me nervous. I’m not sure how to trust an immortal self-contained entity like ALCOR. He’s manipulative, and secretive, and when he says he has a vision for the future, he’s not talking about a ten-year plan. He’s talking about a ten-thousand-year plan.

I’m just not sure I can wrap my head around that.

“The Prime Navy formed after word got out that you boys were staying here with me,” ALCOR continues. “It was an overreaction when I had to take out a fleet of Cygnian and Akeelian warships about a year after your arrival.”

“What?” Jimmy laughs.

“It’s not funny,” I say. “What the fuck, ALCOR? Why didn’t you tell us this?”

“Because,” Tray says, “you would’ve had a problem killing half a million people just to make the point that you could.”

“Shit,” Draden says.

I glare at ALCOR. He smiles at me. He’s no longer just code in the shape of a man. He’s got a face now. Kinda nice-looking, actually. Young, but not as young as us. Light hair, blue eyes, and sometimes he has a shadow on his jaw like he forgot to shave.

I think this was Tray. I think all the changes in ALCOR over the years have been Tray and it kinda freaks me out that I have no idea who that guy is anymore.

“Anyway,” ALCOR says. “The point is, the Prime Navy now exists under the false presumption that I can be contained.”

“Hmm,” I say.

“Don’t worry, Crux,” ALCOR says. “I’m going to make a promise to you now.”