"Why can't we have any chorizo up here on this tub?"

  Robert put down his orange juice and looked up at his girlfriend. She was standing above him stabbing at a plateful of scrambled eggs with disappointed looks and a silver fork. He gave a sidelong glance at the Captain who was stirring his second cup of coffee.

  "Don't look at me, I agree with her. I think we should have more Mexican food around here. I for one wouldn't mind a nice mound of tripas every once in a while."

  Robert frowned.

  "What are tripas?"

  The Captain smiled at Robert's inability to properly roll the 'r.' Before he could answer, Gus came up behind him with two donuts covered in a chocolate glaze.

  "Trust me, you don't want to know."

  Ramirez shrugged.

  "It's a Mexican thing honey."

  Robert stood up and wrapped an arm around Ramirez.

  "Well, why not do something about it? It's not like there's a rule against that sort of thing."

  The Captain turned to Gus.

  "He's never smelled the finer Mexican dishes being prepared I guess." He took a sip of his coffee and looked back to Robert. "How about you? Do you feel that your cultural cooking needs aren't being met?"

  "Well, I wasn't raised on the typical soul foods. I may have trained in Mississippi but I was raised in L.A. Of course, I wouldn't mind a nice helping of chicken and waffles."

  "Ooo, Rosco's. I'll toast to that." The Captain raised a glass and turned away. Gus followed and they were both walking back to the buffet table as the Captain shook his head, "man I hate coffee."

  Robert drank down the last of his orange juice and stood up. Ramirez was pinching the jacket of her dress uniform under her arms.

  "I haven't worn this thing in so long, I'd forgotten how uncomfortable it is."

  "You look fine," Robert stood up and put an arm around her shoulders. As he did, his brow furrowed and he took a step back, looking his girlfriend up and down before nodding with a smile. "I love those high-heeled boots of yours. They give you that imposing stance I've come to admire."

  "Well, they're killing me and I'm taking them off as soon as I get back to my quarters." Robert just kept smirking at her. "What?"

  "I love you, that's all."

  Ramirez let her arms fall by her side. She looked around in insecurity for a moment, them stepped into Robert's strong arms as she gave out a protracted sigh. He squeezed her tightly, comforting her the best way he knew how. His hands began to caress her limbs, sliding along the smooth fabric of her jacket in a warm gesture. He stepped back again with a raised eyebrow.

  "Have you been working out?"

  "Always." She brought up her arm and flexed it. As the muscle tensed, she felt the stitching of her sleeve give way slightly and the tightness around it ease. Dark skin peeking out from the new hole. Her smile quickly faded and she dropped her arms again in embarrassment. Robert laughed.

  "It has been a while since you've worn this."

  Ramirez didn't say anything; she just quietly picked up her plate and began finishing her eggs. At the other end of the Galley, somewhere towards the end of the banquet table, Heather was filling up a plate with her fourth serving of Belgian waffles. This time she chose the pecan flavored syrup and decided to switch to sausage over the chilling bacon.

-     -     -

  "Lock the door."

  The computer beeped once and Gryphon heard the electronic latch secure itself. He began to pick at the top button on his jacket; the collar was squeezing his neck and he was ready to take it off. His fingers fumbled with the metal clasp and he resorted to tearing at it in his frustration. It popped open and he inhaled a gasp of relief. The cool air of his cabin filled his lungs and he began to feel at ease.

  He kicked his shoes into the corner. He had made the mistake of wearing a thick pair of socks with them and his discomfort just added to his misery. His pants quickly followed suit and he plopped down on to his soft mattress.

  "Aww," the AI plaque on his wall began to brighten; Alexander's face appeared with a mocking sneer of pity, "what's wrong little trooper?"

  "Fuck off you useless pile of wires."

  "Did the other kids kick you off the playground? Are you on a time out?" Alexander laughed. His hollow voice echoed inside Gryphon's mind as the electronic visage shook with virtual mirth.

  "Shut up and leave me alone!"

  Alexander's face began to spin, the swirling left a gray trail behind the turning head as the eyes started to sparkle.

  "BEEP BEEP RITCHIE!"

  "Computer!" There was another audible beep that rang out over Alexander's incessant giggling. "Engage AI lockout!"

  The reaction was immediate, the plaque went dark and Gryphon was left in relative peace. He was trembling, on the verge of tears. He slammed a fist down and clenched his teeth.

  "Fuck them all."

  He stood up and stared at the AI plaque. After a moment, a smile began to creep across his face. Gryphon jumped over a pile of clothing and moved over to his desk.

  "Computer?" It beeped as pulled out his keyboard. "Do I still have security clearance?" The screen lit up and the speaker sang to his heart.

  "Affirmative."

  "Fools," he typed in a few keystrokes. "Computer, bring me up a listing of program files for the AI's." A directory came up on his screen, the individual programs and data sizes of each read out. Gryphon grimaced. "Computer, open Psi's ethical sub-routine file. Authorization Gryphon Sigma Gamma Rho." The screen went blank for a moment and Gryphon took in a quick breath. It lit up again with equations and logarithms.

  Gryphon's fingers went to work; he stole a quick glance back at the AI panel as he paused, "don't worry Alexander. I'll get to you in a minute. I just don't want security bugging in unexpectedly." Gryphon began selecting lines in the programming and tapping the delete key with a dark smirk. He opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a large bag of potato chips from his secret stash.

-     -     -

  Mac peeked into another hallway. The empty corridor looked like all of the others he had been in and his spirits were dropping.

  "This place isn't that big. Where the hell is it?" He ran down another corner and looked at his maps again. His heart skipped a beat as he stopped and started to put things together. He turned a map over to look at his drawing on the other side before running a few feet down the hallway. The rubber of his thick boots squeaked resoundingly as he stopped and looked up at the double doors before him.

  A small name plate towards the side read : WEAPONS STORAGE.

  "Thank god." He stuffed the notes into tight pockets and glanced at the various panels. They were flashy and foreign, quite an opposite to the outdated systems on his own ship. Low beeps and a whistle gave out as he pressed a few buttons. Nothing happened. "How does this thing open? These buttons don't even seem to be in English."

  "Can I help you?"

  Mac jumped back startled. Blood rushed away from his knuckles leaving them a pasty white as he looked around him. The corridors were empty.

  "Who ... who said that?"

  The AI plaque began to glow and Psi's round face appeared. His stern expression was unwelcoming and made Mac's stomach do slow somersaults.

  "I did. This is a secure area; only authorized personnel are allowed inside."

  "Uh, my name is Mac Fleetwood. I'm a guest on board and the Captain gave me full access to the ship."

  "Don't try to bullshit me Mr. Fleetwood. I'm aware of everything on board the Necronomicon and I don't take well to deception."

  Mac swallowed hard.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't realize where I had wandered off to, I'll just be going back to my quarters now."

  One of Psi's eyebrows raised in an approximation of human expression.

  "You do that Mr. Fleetwood. Please be more careful next ...," Psi's voice cut out briefly, leaving an audio trail of static. If anyone had been looking, they would have seen the face contort as current flowed through it. The speaker bleeped again and Mac turned around.

  "What was that?"

  Psi's electronic eyes blinked and he looked around. He wasn't totally aware of it, but something had changed; something was missing. He looked at Mac and he squinted ever so slightly.

  "I'm sorry Mr. Fleetwood, It's Mac isn't it?"

  "Uh ... yeah."

  "I may not be able to let you in, but how about I give you a little peek instead?"

  Mac giggled as he looked around again.

  "That science chick said you computer guys were a little goofy."

  "I'm serious," a small light below the AI plaque glowed a dull white; like the illumination from a nearby lamp. Mac had never seen a retina scanner before and didn't recognize it as such, he just took Psi at his word and stepped up to it.

  "Thanks; I admit, I am a little curious."

  "Just look right in Mac, I'm sure you'll be impressed with what we have."

  Mac closed his right eye and put his left up to the light.

  It flashed brightly, a slight halo forming around his head as it did, and his whole body went limp as it collapsed to the floor. His limbs shook lightly with convulsions, his mouth open as he struggled to take in a breath.

  As his mind floated away, he realized he wanted to scream; but he could no longer remember how to do such a complicated task. A trickle of blood dripped out of his nose. One eye above it glazing over with a dark film. The other was clenched shut and trembled as both eyeballs bulged in their sockets.

  The tremors began to settle down. He choked once more, then lay there silent.

  Psi kept looking at him with patient contempt. A faint sense of pleasure drifted through his circuits as he looked at the lifeless body. Without moving a pixel, he opened a concealed door at the other end of the hallway.

  The large maintenance robot behind it began to roll towards Mac with the multiple limbs extending like a giant, steel tarantula.

-     -     -

On to Ch.7 - Realizations

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