I groaned. It had taken me years of constant work to get the military AI to do exactly what I wanted without me having to prompt it. Effectively becoming another part of my body, one that was invaluable in a fight.

  “Done.” One of the nurses said as she moved the console away. “No issues.”

  “Well, good news, bad news,” the doctor said as he stopped pacing. “Your AI is clear, and your hardware checks out.”

  I slowly sat up and turned to face him. “And the bad news?”

  “All of your vitals are good.” He spoke slowly.

  “Spit it out doctor.” I said, annoyance creeping into my voice. Sometimes I wish I could just throttle people that delay telling you the information you need to know in an effort to not say anything.

  He sighed, his voice flattening enough to tell me he was holding back an outburst about my attitude. “Your genetic profile does not match our records.” Before I could ask what, he meant, he continued, “On top of that, it is still changing, and no I do not know what it is changing to.”

  “Is there any way to stop it? Maybe even reverse the change?”

  “I could,” he quickly held up a hand to stop the demand from me that he do just that. “But I do not know what is causing the changes or why. I do not even know if the fixes I put in wont just revert back.”

  “Is there anything that you do know?” I growled.

  “Just that whatever it is, it is not contagious. All of your nanites are doing their job and blocking any and all foreign pathogens.”

  Well, at least I knew whatever it was that was changing me wasn’t going to infect anyone else. I really did not want to go to one of the isolation rooms. Those things were smaller than my bunk. Almost the size of a damn coffin. “So, is there anything you need me to do?” I asked, hoping he would just let me go back to my unit and have the computer monitor me.

  “Honestly, relax and recuperate. Maybe find someone to be with. By the time the fleet is ready to move I should have some idea of what is going on.” I doubted that he would be able to find answers in a short period of time which begged the question, just how damaged was the fleet that it was stuck in one place for such a long period of time?

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  Jumping off the table, my bare feet met the cold metal floor. My first stop would have to be a locker room to shower and change into something more comfortable. The thin clothing did little to protect me from the cold air. It wasn’t cold enough to cause any major issues, just uncomfortable.

  None of the marines moved to intercept me as I padded over to the door. I felt my AI as it talked to the doors control system. The light turned green and loud thumping announced the doors unlatching. Silently, the door slid open enough to allow me to pass through. Closing and relocking the instant I was clear.

  Ignoring it, I moved down the now crowded hall. No one gave me a second glance as I negotiated my way through the corridors of the ship. Why would they? There were other people walking around with less clothing than me as they got done with showers or other extracurricular activities.

  For me, I kept walking and ignored those people. Nothing would distract me from getting into the shower. The thought of taking one after over a week was enough to cause me to rush into the first locker room I could find. I jumped into the private stall. My hands scrambled to tear off the clothes as I rushed to enter the shower. Crying out in shock as I jerked out of the shower, I yelled at my AI, “Why the hell is the shower freezing?”

  “User temperature preference not found. Specify desired temperature.”

  “Forty degrees.” Instantly clouds of steam started to fill the room. I tentatively walked forward, only relaxing once I was under the stream. Letting the water beat against my neck and back. I stood there for a while, not thinking about anything.

  My AI broke through my mental fog, “You have an incoming message from Courtney Stills. Would you like me to read it?”

  With my lethargic state broken, I stepped out from under the water and over to the soap dispensers. Lathering my body up as I said, “Sure.”

  “Message reads: ‘We both lived, want to celebrate tonight?’ Would you like to respond?”

  “Yes,” waiting a second for the AI to acknowledge my choice, I started my response. “Sure, when and where do you want to meet? Also, what should I wear?”

  “Message sent.” I had just stepped under the shower when the AI spoke up again. “Response received.”

  The AI stopped talking which annoyed me. “Well, read it.”

  “Message reads: ‘Say, now, my room.’ Shall I reply?” Instead of answering the AI, I kicked myself into high gear. She and I had been going steady for months now. Taking it slow and being made fun of by all of our friends and teams for it. Neither of us cared though. This was her saying that she was ready to move to the next level and who was I to deny her.

  Finishing my shower and drying off. Next to the door was a small cubby where some clothes were neatly folded. At least I didn’t have to worry about the AI getting the order wrong. My sizes were stored in the ships system and updated regularly.

  As I quickly put the clothes on a pair of soft soled shoes oozed out of the wall. The nanotech crafting them from the stores of material located somewhere on the ship. Grabbing the shoes, I slipped them on as I left the private shower.