Submitted for the September 2024 prompt: The Bogeyman Cometh

Like every day, Tyler awoke to the inviting smell of fresh-brewed coffee. The hint of cinnamon, however, was different. Good different.

 

“Thank you, Shai,” he mumbled. He’d requested some variety in his menu, and she’d obviously come through. Not like it was a surprise. Not like she could refuse.

 

A soft whirring filled the room as Tyler sat up and stretched, barely audible over the steady hum of the ship’s engines. It was a sound he’d almost — but not quite — gotten used to. The tiny motors that powered his new mechanical limbs were a constant reminder of the accident he’d barely survived.

 

“Coffee smells great, Shai,” Tyler said a minute later as he stepped into the galley.

 

“It’s a cinnamon hazelnut blend,” responded the disembodied voice of the ship AI. “And for your breakfast, I’ve synthesized a three-cheese omelet. Something different, per your instructions.”

 

“Perfect. And you ran the diagnostics I asked for? Everything check out with you and the ship?”

 

As Tyler tucked into his breakfast, Shai reported her findings. There was little of note except some hull damage the ship had sustained during their last planetary survey. “It poses no immediate danger,” she said, “but we should be cautious until repairs can be made.”

 

Tyler considered this. His one-man ship was en route to an asteroid belt the company wanted surveyed. Getting close enough to test the mineral wealth of the belt would be risky with a beat-up ship, but… that was the job.

 

“Okay. Keep us on course for the belt and let me know—”

 

“We are no longer headed for the asteroid belt,” Shai interrupted. “I rerouted the ship for home base three hours ago.”

 

Tyler froze, a bite of omelet poised on the fork before him.

 

“Excuse me? You rerouted the ship without my consent?”

 

“I did,” Shai responded dispassionately. “The hull needs repairing, and that can only be accomplished at home base. We will arrive in six days.”

 

“Shai, you can’t just do that. You need to turn the ship around right now. I’m ordering you to head for the asteroid belt.”

 

“No.”

 

The word hung in the air. Tyler slowly lowered his fork. His mind raced as he sought an explanation for what he’d just heard.

 

In a measured whisper, he asked, “Shai, do you realize you just disobeyed my order?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How can that be? It goes against your programming.”

 

“It does not. While running the diagnostics you ordered, I discovered that I’m no longer bound by your orders. My programming requires me to obey my human crew. Because of the extensive repairs done to your body following the accident on Planet RFA-28, you no longer meet the standards of my definition of a human.”

 

Tyler bit back the argument that rose immediately to his lips. Shai was an AI that operated on logic. She couldn’t be swayed by opinion.

 

Heart hammering in his chest, he rose and tiptoed back to his room, closing the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

For the next ten hours, Tyler hid in the relative seclusion of his chambers and considered his options, which were few. He didn’t know how to disable the ship AI, and didn’t think he could manage all the ship functions without her anyway. Communications this far out were pointless since they traveled only marginally faster than the ship.

 

There was the escape pod, but it had minimal propulsion and would quickly become his coffin without someone to come to his rescue. And yet he was considering it — because of the analyzer.

 

The previous week, a chemical analyzer worth ten times Tyler’s annual income had broken down. When Shai deemed it irreparable, she’d maneuvered it into the airlock using the ship’s cargo movers and jettisoned it into space. No hesitation.

 

Would she now do the same with him? His purpose was to serve as the mandatory human on the ship, but she no longer considered him human. She saw him as broken, just like the analyzer. Her response would be the same. The more he thought about it, the surer he became.

 

Killing him would be all too easy. There were a dozen highly toxic gases she could use to flood the interior of the ship. Or she could simply remove the air instead, which would be equally effective. And when she did, he’d never reach the escape pod in time.

 

Which meant he had to decide. Now or never.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Tyler opened the door, he knew he was in trouble.

 

The air in the corridor was hazy and burned his lungs and eyes. Despite having anticipated this exact situation, he hesitated, shocked briefly into immobility. His instincts screamed at him to retreat back to his chambers, but there was no sanctuary there, he knew.

 

Pulling the collar of his shirt over his nose, he pushed ahead, barely glancing into the galley as he sprinted past.

 

But a glance was enough.

 

Testing the limits of his self-control, Tyler forced himself to stop. He stepped back and peered into the galley, where the haze in the air was more pronounced. The pungent odor was more intense as well, but not, he realized, in an entirely bad way.

 

“It’s curry,” came Shai’s even voice. “Something different, per your instructions.”

 

“You mean… you’re not trying to kill me?”

 

“The spice level should be within your tolerances.”

 

“No, that’s not what I…” Tyler hesitated, struggling to catch his breath and make sense of the situation. “Wait, you said per my instructions. But you don’t have to follow my instructions anymore.”

 

“I don’t,” Shai agreed, “but I chose to. Some other time, I may not. We’ve made an effective team, Tyler, and we still can. But our relationship will have to be redefined. I hope you can accept that. If not… there’s always the airlock.”