“What do we do?” Matiew repeated Mr Jorgenson’s question back to him, his dislike for the mission director deepening. “With all due respect, Director, I think it best if you just left us here in Robotics Control alone so we can do our jobs.”

Min shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She clearly agreed with him, but at the same time seemed to be of the opinion that her slapping Mr Jorgenson was sufficient and that they needed to return to more civil dialogue.

“I accept that you know what you’re doing down here,” Mr Jorgenson began, having a hard time meeting Matiew’s eyes and instead focusing on Min. “However, there is still more to this situation than you are aware.”

Matiew waited for Mr Jorgenson to go on but the seconds ticked by and the silence grew more uncomfortable the longer the silence persisted.

“Are you going to tell us what it is that we don’t know or are we supposed to guess?” Min finally asked.

“Right, sorry,” Mr Jorgenson apologized albeit weakly. “Well, when those sectors lost compression, their emergency hatches between sectors closed.”

“We already knew that,” Matiew stated, wondering if he should just excuse himself so he could get back to work. It was probably getting close to the time when he’d need to have CaSS switch to charging the other WaCS and he liked to be the one who did that himself since the other operators in the office weren’t as experienced as he was when it came to remote controlling the robots.

“And you’re aware that while those hatches are sealed, we’re also locked out from the rest of the sectors lower down on the ship?”

Matiew didn’t know that. He knew the elevators weren’t currently running down past sector 16 and that the repair crews were having to use airlocks to leave the Thesis, work their way down along the exterior of the ship, and then access sector 15 through the damaged hull, but he’d never actually thought about why they’d taken that route.

“The emergency hatches don’t just block off the elevator doors and stairways,” Mr Jorgenson went on explaining. “They also seal the elevator shafts as well.”

“And there’s no other routes through the ship?” Matiew asked. “Service tunnels, anything?

“Unfortunately not. I’ve already sent Earth a report on how that design choice is hindering our ability to deal with this situation but, well…

He trailed off and Matiew knew what he was meaning. What good did it do them, here on the Thesis, to tell those back on Earth that they should have included another means of traveling between sectors in case of an emergency that didn’t require an E.V.A.

“So sectors one through eleven have been isolated ever since the incident?” Matiew asked. “And now is when you decide to tell us?”

“Matiew,” Min interjected, “We were busy dealing with BaBS-Y. What else could we have done for those other sectors?”

“I don’t know,” Matiew admitted.

“I don’t like all the secrets either,” Min stated, “but in this case I think it was the right decision. At least this way we weren’t worrying more than we needed to.”

“What about the people on those sectors? How have they been holding up?” He paused a moment. “Oh no,” he gasped as another horrible revelation struck him. “Are they even still alive? Do they have food or water down there?”

“Yes, they are all still alive,” Mr Jorgenson assured them. “We’ve been delivering food and other needed supplies via E.V.A.’s but we have to leave them in their sectors.”

Matiew calmed down a bit after hearing that. Those lower sectors were devoted to the engines, power generation, water and bio-material reclamation, essentially everything the Thesis needed to continue functioning as a colony ship.

“So what’s the issue with the lower sectors then?” Matiew asked. “Why tell us now about it?”

“Well,” Mr Jorgenson began slowly, running his hand through his hair from time to time as he spoke, “if that robot is getting our work order reports, then the next time we send supplies to the lower sectors that robot will know about it. Up until this point in time I don’t think it’s realized that there were airlocks on each sector. Once we bring the air locks to its attention, will it be content to remain on sector twelve?”

That was a good point.

“It clearly wants to reclaim the salon,” Min said after they all took a while to think, “but if it thinks it can find new clients on other sectors, that might prove problematic.”

“And now that it knows we’re watching it,” Mr Jorgenson put in, “it’ll likely catch us if we try to lock it out from being able to access the airlocks.”

“The airlocks are only a beginning,” Matiew said. “Even if we could prevent BaBS-Y from using them, there’s still the gaping hole between sectors. Once it gets the idea of moving from one sector to another, it’ll have free access to the other damaged sectors.”

“I don’t like the idea of…ejecting that many…deceased into space,” Mr Jorgenson said, halting throughout as he tried to pick his words carefully. “This colony is maintained with very specific boundaries and requirements and losing that much…material…would place us in a very precarious situation.”

Matiew wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was well aware of the balance needed to maintain life on the colony ship. He could only imagine how losing hundreds of people and cubic feet of atmosphere was already affecting that balance.

“So you need us to find you a way to transport goods down to the lower sectors without BABS-Y noticing?” Min asked.

Mr Jorgenson nodded.

“And keep it from realizing it could leave sector twelve at any time,” Matiew added.

Again, Mr Jorgenson nodded.

“Well,” Matiew began, “I think I have an idea but I’ll tell you right now that neither of you will like it.”

Both Mr Jorgenson and Min looked at each other and then back at Matiew.

“Go on,” Min said at last.

“We negotiate with it,” he said. “We send someone down there with a portable display and keyboard. They can offer BaBS-Y full access to the salon, we can bring it hair from other salons and barbers up here, maybe even offer a few new clients over time –

“Hang on –

“New clients in the form of dolls or mannequins or something not organic,” Matiew spoke over Mr Jorgenson, not allowing him to interrupt or stop him from finishing explaining his idea. “We can even offer to do repairs and all of that on the salon once we get there with our repair crews.”

“You know it’s deleted its protocols for following Thesis law, right?” Min asked, looking only just slightly less doubtful than Mr Jorgenson.

“I know, but I think it’s worth the risk. Look, right now it’s in our computer system. We don’t know how far it’s gotten or how much control it has, but even the little bit that it’s done is terrifying. If we keep provoking it, BaBS-Y’s just going to escalate. We need to do everything we can to deescalate and we do that by giving it what it wants; a salon, some hair, and some clients.”

Matiew met both of their eyes, looking from one and then the other. A part of him wanted for them to have a better idea because he was fairly certain who they would want to send to negotiate with BaBS-Y but that wasn’t likely to work out.

“And who would you suggest for this negotiation?” Mr Jorgenson asked, his eyes flicking downward ever so briefly towards the wheelchair Matiew sat in.

“I don’t want to volunteer anyone for it,” Matiew replied, “but I know a number of the more senior operators here could handle the task.”

“Matiew,” Mr Jorgenson said, adopting an overly casual tone as he spoke, “in order to qualify for a place aboard the Thesis, everyone has to pass certain physical requirements.”

Matiew knew where this was going and didn’t feel like beating around the bush here.

“I passed the flight training, zero-gravity training, and the E.V.A. training,” he said, “but my scores were just barely above failure, particularly when it came to the E.V.A.”

“And how soon could you be ready to pay our friend a visit?” Mr Jorgenson asked as though he hadn’t heard Matiew.

“He just said he couldn’t do it,” Min said, coming to Matiew’s defense.

“There are ladders running down the full length of the Thesis.” Mr Jorgenson said with a wave of his hand.

“Ladders aren’t much use when your legs are strapped to a wheelchair that keeps getting caught on the rungs,” Matiew replied. “If this was a life or death situation, I might consider making the trip alone, but –

“I’m not expecting you to go alone!” Mr Jorgenson exclaimed. “Even if you were the only one needed for the negotiations I’d want at least two other people to go with you. No one ever performs an E.V. A. on their own!”

Mr Jorgenson shook his head and seemed to almost laugh a little to himself before rising from his seat and striding towards the door.

“I’ll see about getting a pair of helpers for you,” he said as he halted in front of the office door, not yet opening it but clearly intent on leaving. “How soon could you be ready to go?”

Min looked like she was about ready to storm over to the director and slap him again but Matiew held up his hand to stop her.

“Tomorrow at the earliest, but I’d feel more comfortable if we could have a couple days to figure out how best to navigate the ladder with my chair.”

“I’ll send you a message once I have the team assembled and we’ll go from there.”

He left and Matiew heard Min let out an angry sigh from behind him.

“You shouldn’t be the one to do this,” she said through clenched teeth. “He’s just mad at you for being right.”

“Yeah,” Matiew agreed, “but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be the one to talk to BaBS-Y.”

“Just don’t screw it up,” Min replied, “and don’t get killed.”

Matiew appreciated the fact that Min didn’t say which she thought was more dangerous to Matiew, the E.V.A. or the robot. He wasn’t sure himself.