Luna, Aitken Basin, Shackleton Crater, Hyperion, inside “The Grace”

Alberto and Zephyr paused at the rest-stop to pick up refreshments, before hiking back up the trail to the tram. He looked over at her, as they walked, she was very quiet and focused on the trail and the forest. Every so often, when she was on the verge of talking, she stopped. A couple of hours into the walk, she shook her head and spoke.

“It was you this whole time. You knew me well, the packet you dropped into my studio, which by the way I thought was hidden in an impossible to find chain, but just like that a drop right into the studio’s localserv. You just knew I couldn’t resist didn’t you?

I felt sorry for you, a stranger who didn’t know who he was. I felt like I had to help you. This whole time, I was just a piece in your game, this shisima game.”

Alberto looked at Zephyr, “It was not my intention to hurt you, I’m sorry. Yes, it was me. After I had my mind partitioned and scattered, I left a message for myself, in my apartments, where I knew my core would be. I told myself to run to your studio.”

“Why? Why me? What makes me so different that you brought me into this? I’m not the only autonomous artist on the Verse. How did I earn this privilege?”

“Your talent was to help me put back together what I had broken apart, my mind, but also help me keep it safe, out of the hands of those who wanted to use it, my father.

You’re not a monolithic contract, you’ve scattered yourself, as a partitioned artist, comfortable with taking apart, adding new things, like pieces of others as inspiration, and reassembling yourself through your art.”

“But even that is not enough to explain, why me? I’m not the only one.”

Alberto stopped on the trail. He walked over to a tree, he pressed a hand against it. He sat down, with his back against the tree.

“I know your work, it’s on the walls of my apartments. I know it. Many artists give what others what they ask for, what they think they want. You give them what they need before they ask.

As the Cooperative’s sentient ledger, my one weapon was to break apart my mind, to buy some time, but I needed help.

I also wanted these pieces of my mind kept safe with someone who could reassemble it, outside of the SC and my father’s influence, in case it was needed.

I know I didn’t ask you, but you’re the only one who can help a lot people.”

Zephyr stood in front of Alberto, her arms crossed in front. She did a slow pace back and forth, her eyes on the green around them but listening to him.

“And the others you’ve brought into this? They’re carbons?”

“Yes, I looked into my deep memory as the “ledger” for help.

Down the well, in one of the SC’s launch cities, Heavyville, Texas, was Robin Tagore.

As the “ledger”, she was an entry in my mind, a recruit who rose up the ranks of the SC. After seeing her in action, and looking deeper, I saw she was the person I needed.

Robin was also connected with someone else, a friend in the SC’s security services, a Captain, named Edward Lawrence. Based on what I “knew” as the “ledger”, I saw his psych profile and his service record. He had friends who emigrated to Luna.

I left them notes and cards, and let them follow the trail while I was gone.

Then, I began an escape plan, to someone who knew the Grey Verse,” Alberto nodded at Zephyr, “You. I made sure to forget who I was, so I couldn’t be found through my memories, and sent you that packet, and a note to myself to find you.

I wasn’t 100 percent sure but if I didn’t try, there was a 100% chance my father would go ahead with his plans, and more people would be hurt or killed. I had to try.”

Zephyr got up, and helped Alberto stand up. She brushed the aside the bits of forest from her clothes, and looked back on the part of the trail behind them.

“Back there, you didn’t know about that did you?” she asked, as she glanced in the general direction of the memorial, obscured by the forest.

“No, Until a few hours ago, I thought I was created, made by the SC. That my father was my carbon model. Not a copy but a mold, like all conscious contracts, with my own sense of self. I had no memory of my life, my real life as a carbon until then.

If it helps, and it probably doesn’t, I know I hurt you with all of this, you were intrigued as an artist because of my packet, because of me, but then you wanted to help someone who was lost, and it became more. I’m grateful.”

“Yes, it became more. You told me you you needed my help. I’m here. I’m still calling you Alberto, I was just getting used to that name.”

“Thank you.”

Drifting through the stillness there were the distant echoes of the forest’s living things. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then looked down at the trail floor.

Zephyr took in a deep breath, held it and exhaled. What a sensation. Alberto did likewise.

“I’m feeling, I don’t know scared and excited.”

“Me too. I don’t know if help is coming, so for now we have do our best on our own.”

NOTES
AI Lexica Art Prompt
photograph of a real-life beautiful assassin with intricate silver robes and daggers. Extremely detailed. 8k