"Oxygen cycling is online, systems are green. Artificial gravity is offline, systems are green. Thrusters are offline, systems are green. Navigation is online, systems are green. Engines are online, systems are green. System power..."
Perseus pauses its readouts. Its eyes locked on that one spot on the clipboard. The bold, underlined numbers next to "POWER".
"Perseus. The readouts." The voice of its Witch commands. Unyielding. Cold as the vast dark that surrounds them.
"...Power is at... twelve percent, Miss."
There are no misconceptions as to what this means. Any lower and critical systems will begin to malfunction and fail.
Silence from Miss. Only the hum of the engines dares to fill the gulf between them. She, too; is given pause.
"...Very well," Miss responds at last. "Initializing emergency protocols. Inform the candidate, then assemble the crew."
"...Thy will be done, Miss."
As Perseus departs from the bridge, it steals a glance behind it. No change in Miss' expression. Not even entropy will shake her.
Perseus hears the room ahead before it approaches. Soft music, playing at a steady, consistent tempo, thrums muffled through the hallway. As Perseus approaches, the door to Hourglass' chambers slides open, unlocked. For a moment, the music rings clear in Perseus' mind -- practically resonating with its clockwork before Hourglass moves to adjust the dial on its music player, bringing the hum of strings to a whisper.
Perseus clears its throat. A pointless habit, its voice is perfectly clear. Merely a nervous tic.
"Hourglass..."
"It is time, then?"
"...It is."
"Then let us not dilly-dally, dearest. This unit will meet you all soon."
The plaintive, blissful smile -- Hourglass' default expression -- broadens into genuine warmth. The love in Hourglass' every moment shines through, connecting something in Perseus' brain.
"Hourglass..."
It has already floated, silently, out of its chambers. Silently...
...That is strange. There is no more music in the room.
With no systems in immediate need of maintenance, all the crew -- every single doll -- is able to show up. Many of them chattering with one another, some nervously "awawa"-ing, some locked in their perfect silence.
Hourglass is ready present, conversing with the three engine crew dolls. Before Perseus can speak again to it, however; a hush falls over the generator room as the door hisses open, announcing Miss' entrance.
"Good evening, my crew. It is good that all could be present this day." Calm and authoritative, her voice echoes through the deck.
"Hourglass. Are your preparations complete?"
"They are, Miss. This unit stands ready." A curtsy from Hourglass.
"Then let us not delay. Luna, aid me here; would you?"
Luna, one of the engine crew, a tall, pale doll almost as tall as Miss; stands wordlessly at Miss' side -- observing, in case of any error.
Miss approaches an analog console on the wall, types in a code none of the dolls know. With a heavy Km-Thunk, the walls part open. A thin coolant vapor fills the room, and all the crew -- even Perseus and Luna -- stare reverently at the naked body of Gaia. Its arms are folded across its chest like royalty, utterly still and drained of power.
Their awe is swiftly disrupted by the click, click, cr-click of Miss disconnecting the cables docked into Gaia's ports. Swift and precise. No err in the procedure.
A blip from Luna. "Candidate successfully disconnected from generator block alpha."
With the same swiftness, Miss lays Gaia's shell upon the wheeled stretcher. Three of the doll repair crew swiftly drape a blanket over its torso.
Perseus steals a glance at Gaia's face. It always was a gloomy one; but here, it appears to be at peace.
Perseus looks back towards the engine block; Miss has already scooped Hourglass up, and sets it within the doll-shaped divet in the wall.
"Good-bye, everyone!" Hourglass chimes out. "And do be safe! This unit will see you all soon!"
"Bye-bye, Hourglass!"
"We will miss you!"
"Thank you, Hourglass!"
"...I love you, Hourglass."
Perseus is staring at its feet, now. All it hears is the "*thh-click, thh-click" of power cables connecting.
"Candidate shutdown procedure completed. Connection to generator block alpha... established." Perseus looks back up. Eyes shut, hands clasped in silent prayer; Hourglass' frame sits within the wall. Its expression locked in that perfect joy of stillness.
"Generator block alpha is now charging. Systems power reads at seventeen percent and rising."
Several seconds of silence.
"Thank you, Hourglass." Miss states. Clear. Proud.
"Thank you, Hourglass." Twenty-nine dolls echo, in unison.
Hourglass' power will sustain the ship for another two to four solar weeks, depending on how hard they push the systems. They will find somewhere to dock, soon. Somewhere. Anywhere. They have to. Earthgov owns every lightjump point, but they don't yet have a grip on the untethered stations. They'll find somewhere they can drift too. Recharge. And then Perseus can talk to Hourglass and Gaia and the four other dolls that now lie in rest.
Back in its own tiny quarters, Perseus hums four soft notes to itself. Over and over. It will get the song right, eventually. If it can't talk to Hourglass, it will remember its drifting song.
