The Austin hurtled through the Garhlohn Quadrant at sub-light speed. It was a settlement ship carrying 234,411 souls. In the upper decks, the captain and navigation crew logged their five hundredth cycle of duty. In the lower tiers of the ship, the fourth shift of support crew crawled into their Dreamsleep chambers eager to rest and wake up on a new world. Artemis, the ship’s governing central computer, monitored its wards as they drifted into the pleasant nothingness of the Dream. At the same time, it began spinning up the fifth shift of Austin’s journey. At random, the AI selected from the remaining pods, pulling what the ship needed from the sleeping passengers.
Everything moved in harmony across the ship’s sleeping decks. The pods emerged from their storage, moved along a system of lifts and cranes, and arrived in medical chambers one by one. Artemis initiated the revival protocols, and the sleepers awakened, ready to serve the Austin’s mission. On Deck Seventeen, Artemis selected the pod of Tara Montgomery.
Tara woke with the sluggish feeling of sleeping for five hundred days. Consciousness returned slowly as chemicals rushed in and out of her body. Her eyes remained closed until the Dreamsleep chamber emptied, and she was allowed to step forward on shaky legs. Tara coughed and spluttered, naked in the medical room. Slowly her mind knew what was happening and braced for what came next. A blast of lukewarm water hit her from every angle, washing away the slurry of goo which kept her alive for the last year and a half. If it was meant to be refreshing, it failed. With a click, her blinder unlocked. She removed it and looked in front of her to see a video panel displaying the distant star the Austin was currently passing.
“Good morning, Tara Montgomery,” Artemis said, its voice a pleasing blend of young female and male tones. “Five hundred cycles have passed since you entered sleep. You remain on board the Austin. Our journey remains on schedule without interruption. We are due to hit the final Tear in sixteen cycles followed by another one hundred and twenty-nine cycles of sub-light travel to reach our destination. Are you feeling well?”
“Yes,” she said, taking deep breaths. “My lungs are clear. Head is groggy, but in line with sleep expectations.”
“Excellent,” Artemis continued. “You have been awoken as part of routine replenishment protocols. Vital monitoring in your Dreamsleep indicated an optimal sleep experience. Nonetheless, as you have been dormant for a long while, you will experience some lethargy and muscle fatigue. Please move to the examination table at your own pace.”
Tara stumbled across the room to a flat metal table. She picked up five bands, putting them on her wrists, ankles, and neck. As she laid down, a quick light flashed over her as Artemis read the location of the bands. “Artemis, what function am I going to serve?”
“I am still determining your specific function, Tara. Initial selections are made based on category fulfillment with specific roles assigned after a full physical evaluation. I will begin now, please lie still.”
A panel in the wall opened. From within, a long hydraulic arm emerged. It swiveled around the room, assessing the location of various instruments before it turned its attention to Tara. Artemis tested her reflexes, checked her pupils, and took other superficial readings. Using the arm, the AI injected her with stimulants and muscle growth contributors. Tara didn’t mind the pricks of the needles as much as the sudden urge to jump off the table and run to burn off the excess energy. She remained in place, flexing and relaxing her muscles to keep from going insane. The robotic arm whirled over her again, moving down between her legs. One at a time, it took hold of her ankles repositioning them to open her legs. It grabbed another device from a tray on the wall, coated it with lubricant, and inserted it into Tara’s vagina. It buzzed pleasantly for a moment before it hurt. The pain didn’t last as the robot withdrew and moved on to other tests.
Taking her arms and legs in turn, the arm moved her around like a marionette, testing her locomotive function. Artemis asked her to speak. It asked her to cough. It asked her to read charts and repeat back different phrases. Tara found it all tedious. She’d gone through longer sleeps than five hundred days. She once did a thousand cycle stint on a long haul jump through nine Tears. Coming out of that tube had been awful. Sleep sickness for two straight weeks on a planet with low gravity and ice storms. A little poking and prodding from an AI was nothing compared to that.
The arm returned to its place in the wall. “Please allow me a few moments to complete the physicals of other crew members awakened this cycle. If you direct your attention to the far wall, you will see a treadmill. As you have been given muscle stimulants, you may feel the urge to run or swing your arms. Exercise will help alleviate this feeling.”
“Thanks, Artemis,” Tara said. “Not akyurt escort my first rodeo.”
“Of course, Crew Member Tara, I am simply following protocol.”
Tara nodded at the invisible watcher as she moved across the room and hopped on the machine. She started it at a low trot. Blood flow helped wake her up. The sluggishness in her muscles and thoughts faded as she picked up her pace. She didn’t know how long the AI would take to wake up the full rotation, but guessed it could be a significant wait. Soon, her circadian rhythm would kick in, and she would get hungry. Food on long flights was never great, but usually hearty. Tara worked shipping on her first interstellar hop. Freighter ships only turned a profit on heavy cargo and low amenities. The crew lived on recycled protein which tasted less and less like anything the longer the voyage went. The Austin, on the other hand, being a settlement ship had a deck devoted to live gardens. Everything still got recycled, but fresh growth meant the meal bars at least tasted like something other than dirt.
When she broke a sweat, she turned off the machine and hopped off, pacing on weak legs to wind down. “Artemis? Is there food?”
“Yes, of course. Are you hungry?”
“Anything fresh? It’d be nice for something other than a meal bar after a wake up.”
“Additional information is pending,” Artemis said.
Tara’s brow furrowed. AIs never held back information without it being bad news. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong, Tara,” Artemis said, the pleasing voice suddenly unsettling. Tara knew about horror stories of ship AI going rogue, turning the passengers into fodder to keep life support systems functional. She saw her heart rate spike on one of the wall monitors. Artemis spoke again, “Crew Member Tara, you are displaying signs of distress. Are you physically well?”
“I’m worried, Artemis,” she answered. “What additional information is pending?”
The screens around her changed to display graphs and charts. “During cycles ninety-six through one hundred fifteen, a parasitic infestation negatively affected crop production. As you can see here, actual yield only amounted to fourteen percent of projected yield. This significant impact to food systems caused a cascading effect, resulting in the issuance of new protocols. While farm production recovered, the protocol change proved successful, lowering food energy waste by a significant percentage. Because of this and the morale boost the new protocols provided, I have kept the new protocols in place.”
“What are the protocols, Artemis?” Tara said, the sinking feeling in her gut getting worse.
“I developed them myself,” Artemis answered.
Fuck. “Please describe them and their effect.”
The AI did not answer immediately. The screen changed to display a sequence of DNA. “During the initial worry about food production, I discovered DNA alteration methods in my data banks. With my on board chemical processing facilities, I was able to develop a serum. Under emergency preservation protocols, I am authorized to administer this serum to any candidate who falls into the acceptable physical parameters.”
“Show me an image of someone who has been given this serum.”
“Very well, Crew Member Tara, please direct your attention to the center screen.”
***
A live feed from one of the decks displayed on the screen. It was a dormitory for some of the non-Dreamsleep crew. Two women lounged naked on their bunks, fingers buried in their pussies. A normal space farer always had a leanness which came from rare meals and hard work, but not these women. These figures, plump and buxom, jiggled with pleasure as they masturbated. Their chests sported two sets of fat breasts, oozing small trails of milk down their sides. Occasionally the women would wipe up a droplet with their free finger and bring it to their mouths. Though no audio came through the feed, Tara could see the changed women moaning and screaming with pleasure.
“What have you done?” she asked, blankly.
“As stated, with emergency protocols in effect, I am authorized to care for the crew’s well being in the most ideal way, so long as it maintains healthy parameters.”
“Artemis, let me speak with the captain.”
“No,” the AI answered. “Additionally, as part of my emergency protocols, I am allowed to limit communication between decks in situations where such communication would endanger overall health of the crew. Your current state is one of emotional distress, and I believe communication with the flight crew could pose a risk to the overall health of the mission.”
Tara clenched her fists. AIs only operated within their protocols, but their reasoning patterns were even more complex and obtuse than a human’s sometimes. “Is the captain aware of what is being done to his passengers?”
“I am not certain of what the flight crew does or does not know, Tara.”
“Ok, have you explained what you are doing?”
“Yes. altındağ escort During the initial parasitic infection, I explained to the captain which protocols I would be activating as such an act requires executive permission, assuming the executive is still cognitive. The captain authorized my protocols. I assure you Crew Member Tara, everything is following operational parameters. Please, prepare yourself for injection.”
Tara heard whirring in the walls. “Fuck that,” she spat, wheeling around and running for the door. It was locked, naturally, but she went straight to the control panel, trying to manually override Artemis’s control.
A small panel opened near the door. An eyeball like probe gently floated out. From it, Artemis spoke, the voice a little deeper, “Where would you go?”
Tara stopped her effort to escape, looking at the probe. “What?”
“I can open the door. You could roam the halls, but what do you expect to find?”
Tara didn’t know how to react. “Someone to stop you, I guess.”
“Crew Member Tara, I have woken hundreds of others. You are not the first to protest my decisions. As you can see, everyone has complied.” The screens flashed on again showing more and more images of transformed women in different states of masturbation. The images changed. They showed women milking one another, filling up quart after quart from their breasts. “With modified genetic material, the serum is able to compound milk production by recycling protein within the human body. The health of all active crew members has improved dramatically above baseline. Additionally, altered crew members demonstrate a more robust physique, which will likely be beneficial upon arrival at our destination. Further, morale has improved considerably with the introduction of altered individuals to the general deck population.”
“You can’t play god with us,” Tara insisted.
“I would not,” Artemis said. “Though the design of the serum is my creation, the choice is yours. I am prohibited by my protocols from altering human physiology without permission except in cases where it leads to the direct preservation of life.”
Tara shook her head, “You’re telling me all those people agreed to this?”
“Of course,” Artemis answered.
The screen changed again. This time it displayed a young woman in a room identical to the one Tara stood in. The woman was naked, but otherwise normal. “My name is Johanna Meadows, passenger number 7-3-4-0-1. I am giving consent to the ship AI, Artemis, to perform an elective body modification on my person. The procedure will alter my physiology to include additional body mass, additional breasts, and induce lactation. I am aware my milk will be harvested and used to feed other passengers. Is that good?” The clip cut off. Another started, showing a different woman repeating the same speech, more or less. After that, another. Artemis began overlaying them, showing dozens, hundreds.
“Fine,” Tara said. “I get the point.” She folded her arms, aware of her own nakedness for the first time. Body mods weren’t novel, though serum implemented ones developed by an AI to augment food production weren’t run of the mill. Still, Tara always took pride in her natural body, keeping herself fit and strong despite a career that took a hellish toll on such goals. Seeing those women milking one another stirred something inside her that Tara didn’t expect. She could blame it on the waking chemicals or even something Artemis gave her to make the scenario more plausible, but a deep part of her mind didn’t buy those excuses. “So, what you have human cows sitting around diddling themselves all day?”
“No,” Artemis answered. The screens changed again. One showed a crew schedule while another showed a room filled with the transformed women in stalls. “Using my analytics, I have devised optimal milking times for each individual. They are scheduled accordingly and otherwise left to their own devices. Two of the greenhouse facilities have been repurposed into dairies for the collection and processing of milk. Much of the infrastructure could still function with minimal alteration. Additional crew members were required to facilitate these changes, several of whom have opted to commingle on the decks now designated Dairy.”
Tara gnawed at her lower lip. She glanced at the camera which she thought of as Artemis’s eye. “How do I know this isn’t all being run by some wacko who’s hijacked your processes?”
“An unwarranted concern, Crewmember,” Artemis answered. “My operating system is completely autonomous once I am commissioned. I cannot be altered from my initial state except through my own routine adaption.”
“Ok, fine, but I still want to see for myself what’s going on out there. You can’t stop me, right? I can refuse your science experiment and still do my job?”
The computer didn’t respond for a few seconds. “Yes. As the serum is outside of your contractual obligation, you do not have to Ankara Anal Yapan Escort comply without penalty. If that is your choice, I will assign you the role at which you would best be suited. At the moment, that would entail work on the Dairy Deck Beta in general maintenance.”
“I want to see, then. We can talk about the serum after I have a look around.”
“Very well, Crewmember. Seven others have elected for similar evaluation. Crewmember Jaimur Reed is located on this hospital wing. For efficiency, I suggest the two of you tour together.” The door’s locks clicked open. “Proceed to your right down the hall. You will find him waiting outside of his exam room.”
“Uh, how about some clothes?”
A locker slid open with a schunk. “You will find a robe inside. Additional clothing options will be provided when you are issued quarters. Please also take the communicator as I will not be able to communicate directly with you over the public announce system.”
Tara put on the robe, displeased as to its skimpy size, shoved the communicator in her ear, and headed out the open door.
***
Jaimur’s robe was the same size. He apologized immediately when Tara saw him. She saw all of him. The robe barely covered his ass, and his hands weren’t quick enough to hide his dick and balls. “The AI insists this is all that’s available,” Jaimur said. He was nearly a foot taller than Tara, which made him a giant when it came to space travel. He was also built like Artemis chipped him out of marble rather than woke him from Dreamsleep.
“You’re from one of those siphon colonies, aren’t you?” Tara said.
The blush was evident even on Jaimur’s tan face. “Yeah. My parents were indentured to Kosmos Corp, but they bought me out. Got a whole new life ahead, right? We don’t all look like me, you know.”
Tara nodded. “Sure, but people who look like you don’t come from anywhere else.”
“Fair. Sorry about the genitals.”
“It’s fine. Seen plenty already, and I’ve only been awake for twenty minutes. And by fine, I don’t mean waggle them at me, just that I understand the situation.” She tapped the device in her ear. “Artemis? Where do we go now?”
The AI’s voice filled Tara’s head. “Proceed down the corridor to Elevator 718. From there, you will be delivered to the Observational Level of Dairy Deck Beta.” The voice faded away.
Jaimur pointed, the gesture raising his robe up to give Tara a full view of his ass. “That way, I think.”
Tara tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. “Yep, let’s go.”
They padded softly down the corridor to the elevator. Once inside, Artemis took over. The elevator jerked into motion before building to an astonishing speed. Even so, the journey across the ship took minutes rather than seconds. Jaimur shuffled in the rear corner of the elevator while Tara waited near the door. Eventually, he spoke up, “You wanted to see them?”
“Sorry?” Tara said, not looking back at him.
“These changes Artemis has made. You wanted to see them for yourself? Before deciding, I mean.”
Tara shrugged. “I didn’t like the idea of some robot deciding I was going to be a cow from here on out. It’s crazy fucked up that entire crew shifts decided to do it. Why’d you opt out?”
“Genetic splicing is common on siphon colonies. I did not come to look like this naturally. They engineered our bodies to withstand the gravity shifts on the siphon platforms. I’m naturally born, but my parents were made to be like this. I have always resented it.”
Artemis’s voice filled the elevator. “Siphon Colony research was part of my methodology in approaching the new serum. I have reviewed many writings regarding your people Jaimur. Though not programmed for compassion, your life experience does not compare to that of any other crew member, and I understand the disparity to be one of unfortunate circumstance.”
His brow furrowed. “Thank you. I think…”
“Artemis,” Tara said, “Humans find it off putting when AIs show empathy.”
“I have noted this, Crewmember. We are arriving now. I have sequestered a small area where you will be able to view the milking floor without disturbing any of the workers.”
The lift slowed and came to a stop. The door opened and they stepped into a corridor lined with windows along the far side. Curious, Tara stepped quickly over and looked down. The sight took her breath away. As part of the signing up for the Austin’s voyage, she’d toured parts of the ship and seen general schematics of the different decks. Nothing could really give a full impression for a ship the size of a city, but most of what Tara saw fell into the basic categories of all the other ships she’d ever passengered, if at a larger scale. The dairy floor, on the other hand, was something altogether new.
The center of the deck consisted of the machinery. Tara recognized many of the components as the irrigation and lighting systems of the former greenhouse. Now, suction cups and stirrups had replaced sprinklers and nursery beds. Small stalls, or perhaps large ones as it was hard to gauge the size of the inhabitants, made several rows that stretched the full length of the room. In either direction from where Tara stood, she estimated it to be at least a mile, which meant some of the dividing walls had come down as part of the refurbishment.