Page 8 of Abyss

"It is the primary sensory and manipulation functionality for the ship," I said.

Eventually, the pathway led to a large room I recognized.

I stepped in through the door, onto the dirt.

"A cabbage farm?" Carla asked, lifting her head to look around the vast room. "Why is there a farm on a spaceship?"

"It is Taygetan space grain," I said. "This bulbous plant was engineered to have a broad, sticky root system that held onto dirt even in the event of zero gravity. All of the seeds werecontained within a thick leafy shell that prevented them from flying out in the event of a gravitational loss, making it ideal for space stations or ships that didn't want to import all of their caloric needs."

"Why not just have a hydroponics system?" she asked.

I didn't have access to the ship's system to pull the data to answer that question, but I had worked in the farms enough that I already knew the answer.

"Soil acts as a natural buffer to retain moisture and nutrients, which keeps the plants alive in the case of mechanical issues," I said as I carried her through the rows of crops. This location was strange, but I had to agree that it was out of the way. "When growing this large amount of biomass, being able to recycle it back into the soil along with the organic waste created from caged dross. Hydroponics would require an additional set of systems to liquefy waste and is less efficient. There are hydroponic systems for creating food for dross on pure inorganic ships, but Vaurelcar ships also require caloric input to grow, so it is standard to have a farm."

"A monocrop farm that is larger than several football fields from what I can tell," she said, identifying a basic fact about the farm. "What is a dross?"

I hesitated.

She wasn't scared of me. She trusted me.

If I explained what dross was, that would change.

But at the same time, if I didn't explain, she would also lose trust in me. Withholding information was

"The explanation is unpleasant and might frighten you," I said. "You are in no danger now and do not need to know that information. Would you still like to hear it?"

"Yes," she said, turning her face up to look at me.

My internal system highlighted several details of her expression with green boxes: her eyebrows lifting slightly with aslight asymmetry, her eyes widening slightly, the lower eyelids tightening, her pupils dilating slightly, and a lateral tilt to her head.

Curiosity, interest, focused engagement.

"Dross is a term for biological beings who have been collected for processing," I said. "Processing is disassembling the biological being and either turning them into a Calicium or using their parts to enhance existing Caliciums. Your species was flagged for having high neural synaptic capability, as well as brain matter that showed exemplary adaptability and growth potential."

Her eyebrows drew down and in, lines forming on her forehead, her eyes narrowing.

Concern, possible hostility.

"Wait, put me down," she said.

I set her down on her feet and stepped back to give her space. She crossed her arms, a gesture highlighted as:defense response.

"Are you saying that you guys are cutting us up for spare parts?" she asked.

"Yes, but that is not happening anymore," I said. "Plexus command is no longer in control of this ship or of me, and I have no intention of continuing such behavior."

"Were you forced to do that?" she asked, her eyebrows still furrowing. "You said the chip in your head made you do things. Was there no way around it?"

"There have been rumors of Calicium breaking free of their control chips, but they've never been substantiated, and I have no idea of how that would be accomplished," I said.

"Are you sure, absolutely sure, there are no humans on this ship being cut up right now?" she demanded.

"I can query the system to be certain," I said.

"Do that," she demanded.

I sent in a query to the system and received an immediate response.