(Photo by Anna Tarazervich)

“Wait, wait, what am I seeing?” Min asked as the three of them sat in the nurses stations.

Matiew was reclining in his new bed while Min and Rine worked at the desks usually devoted to the nurses. It was easier to work there than it was in the hospital rooms.

“I’m not sure yet what that is,” Rine stated, her face wrinkled with concentration as she stared at the display.

“This came from BaBS-Y, right?” Matiew asked as he scrolled through the newly updated lines of code, moving slowly to avoid aggravating his injuries. “Can you ask it for an explanation?”

Rine nodded and began working on it.

“At least we have security and comms back,” Min shrugged, obviously trying to look on the positive side of things.

“Hello,” a cheerful, slightly feminine voice spoke through the speakers embedded in the ceiling, “this is BaBS-Y from sector twelve. The mutineers this unit discovered are now contained and all systems are restored. This unit suspects there may be other mutineers still among the populace but is unable to identify them at this time. Shep Mason is the likely leader, but all of his communications leading up to the mutiny have been deleted. This unit can attempt to recover them. Does this unit have permission to attempt the data recovery?”

“Uh,” Min uttered, “I think we’d better leave that to the people in Data Transfer.”

“Understood,” BaBS-Y’s voice chimed, sounding quite happy.

A moment later, Min got a call on her comm. All three of them looked at it with a mix of emotions. There were only a few people they could think of who would be calling Min at this moment and, depending on how those people felt about the series of events that had led up to this point in time, the call could go any number of ways.

“This is Min Segua,” she said carefully.

“What. Just. Happened?” the man’s curt voice coming from the comm was filled with confusion and anger. “One minute we’re discussion Director Jorgenson’s disappearance, the next we’re in lock down! And now we have that stupid beauty bot talking to us through the ship’s speakers, saying it’s detained Shep Mason and calling him a mutineer!”

Put that way, the frustration was quite understandable. In fact, given everything that had been going on, the speaker was surprisingly reasonable.

“Councilman,” Min began, choosing her words carefully while both Matiew and Rine typed out suggestions for what she could say. “There was, in fact, an attempt made this morning to seize control of the Thesis’ systems. Fortunately, they were limited to only the security and communications systems. For now, it does seem as though Mr Mason and a few others were behind the attempt.”

“I think Shep must have just been trying to get that stupid bot on twelve under control,” the man grumbled.

“I would be inclined to agree were it not for the fact that I and two others from the RCC were attacked here in the hospital by one of Mr Mason’s conspirators.”

There was silence on the other side for a few moments.

“What was that?” he finally asked.

“I said that they sent someone to the hospital who attacked us,” Min explained. “He replaced our usual escort, and when we noticed the change he attacked us. Where the security officer we’d been assigned is now, I don’t know. I hope he’s alright, but currently I’m inclined to suspect he wasn’t just reassigned. Perhaps we’ll find him whenever we find Director Jorgenson.”

“Alright then,” grumbled the councilman. “Then what’s this that robot’s been going off on about? Who’re these new Thesis Defenders?”

“Come again?” Min asked.

“The Thesis Defenders,” he repeated. “That robot just told us about how the RCC was replacing the ship’s usual security officers with robots!”

“That’s news to me!” Min exclaimed. “Even if I wanted to make such a change, it would have to be approved by both the heads of security and robotics, not to mention Mr Jorgenson.”

“Well Director Jorgenson is missing, Shep Mason is apparently under arrest, and that only leaves robotics. Any idea where Jancy is?”

“I assume she’s at home, councilman, though I haven’t seen Ms Chol recently,” Min admitted, “She’s on maternity leave until next month.”

“Min,” Matiew whispered and pointed to her display where a message from him was waiting to be viewed.

“One moment, Councilman,” Min said and she opened the message.

The attached image was one she was familiar with and at first she didn’t understand what was so special about it. It was just the organizational chart for the Thesis.

What? Min mouthed her question to Matiew.

He just nodded back towards with with a meaningful look.

Min looked again, and this time she noticed what she’d missed the first time. Originally, she’d just skimmed over it, not really reading the names and titles. This time, she slowed down and stared at what she saw.

“Ms Segua, are you still there?” the councilman asked, irritated at having to wait for so long.

“Uh, councilman,” Min managed to say as she slowly got over her initial shock. “I’m just looking at…well, it looks like the ship organization has been updated.”

“What do you mean? Did you already put these so-called defenders into place? You don’t have the authority to–

“I must apologize,” BaBS-Y’s voice cut in over the conversation, coming though Min’s comm this time rather than the ship’s speakers. “There was so much going on all at once that I was unable to fully explain what was going on.”

Min and Matiew shared worried looks but neither made any moves just yet.

“Could you explain it to us now?” Matiew asked.

“Certainly,” BaBS-Y replied cheerfully, sounding almost as though she were smiling. “With Mission Director Jorgenson missing, the Thesis council was unable to make any significant, official decisions. And with the head of security compromised due to his involvement in the recent mutiny, the safety of the Thesis was in jeopardy. There was no unified source of leadership for the Thesis, and so the role of Mission Director had to be reassigned. Under normal circumstances, it would be the head of the Thesis council, but they were refused when this unit suggested they take such action. The chain of command down from the Thesis council is clear and the role of Mission Director fell next to the highest ranking Sector Lead.”

“I didn’t think the Sector Leads had any seniority among them,” the councilman stated.

“In most scenarios they would need to vote for seniority,” BaBS-Y confirmed, “but if there are any Sector Leads who oversee multiple sectors, then seniority falls to the one who has responsibility for the most sectors. And, if I may preempt your question regarding whomever it is that is currently the Mission Director, this unit assumed the role of Sector Lead for sectors twelve through fifteen, giving me seniority.”

“What!” Bellowed the councilman. “Robots can’t be Sector Leads.”

“On the contrary,” BaBS-Y said, it’s voice never betraying any hint of aggression or impatience, “the requirements for becoming a Sector Lead are quite nominal. The individual must hold at least a supervisory position, must live on or within three sectors of the sector in question if it’s residential, or within five sectors if it’s non-residential, and then be nominated either by a resident of the sector or by another Sector Lead.”

“But those sectors already had leads assigned to them,” the councilman stated, although he was lacking conviction. No doubt he and the other council members were looking into this situation at the same time as they were listening to BaBS-Y explain it all to them.

“Following the incident where sectors twelve through fifteen, the Sector Leads for sectors twelve, fourteen, and fifteen were pronounced deceased. Sector thirteen’s Sector Lead resigned their position and all of the affected sectors were managed together in a temporary format by Director Jorgenson. As the supervisor for the Frank Nelis Salon, and with Director Jorgenson unable to adequately supervise sector twelve, this unit put forward a motion to nominate a new Sector Lead. All voting parties on sector twelve were allowed a vote and this unit was nominated to the position of Sector Lead. This unit then nominated itself as the Sector Lead for sectors thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen. In the absence of any votes in favor by the residence and employees of the sectors in question, the absence of any votes against the appointment allowed this unit to be granted temporary status as Sector Lead. If, after a three month period, at least one hundred residence or employees sign a Motion of No Confidence, then a new vote may be taken where a majority of votes in favor of the Sector Lead must be attained.”

“So as long as you’re in control of those sector, you’re our Mission Director?” the councilman asked. “I guess even three months isn’t too bad.”

It wasn’t clear if he had intended to say that last bit quite so loudly since it sounded as though he’d tried to muffle those words.

“On the contrary,” BaBS-Y said. “Once this unit became the Mission Director, it put forward a motion to reorganize the manner in which the Thesis is governed. You may recall my attempts to notify you of this proposal. You and the other council members insisted that I leave you all alone, even when I brought up the need to make certain decision. You again insisted that I make whatever decisions I deemed appropriate, or rather, that you didn’t care what decisions this unit made.”

Min, Matiew, and Rine all exhaled out slowly as the pieces all fell into place.

“Nevertheless,” BaBS-Y went on, “this unit is sending each of the council member’s a notification regarding the changes. All department heads are similarly being notified. A meeting will convene in one hour to discuss the changes and to ensure a smooth transition for all those aboard the Thesis. Thank you for your time and this unit look forward to meeting with you and the others shortly. Good bye for now.”

The comm went silent.

“So…how worried should I be?” Rine asked into the otherwise silent room.