In turn, Natalya ignored her, staring past Park at Hunter’s still form, hovered over by pale-eyed robots. Before she could say anything—or hurl some sort of horrible insult—Park added, “I didn’t do this. The androids found her here and alerted me. When I came, something happened to the gravity. And she assaulted me.”

“Assaulted?” Fulbreech asked again, more urgent than before. His eyes darted over her; despite herself Park felt a flush spread through her whole body. “Are you all right?”

Park looked away and muttered, “I’m fine.”

“What do you mean, something happened to the gravity?” Natalya asked then, indifferent to their talk.

Park shook her head. “I don’t know. It felt like some kind of malfunction, though the robots say there was none. Didn’t you feel it, too?”

“Not in my bunk,” Fulbreech said, and from Natalya’s look it was clear nothing had happened to her either.

“Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?” she asked.

Park felt her face heat: as if she could imagine such a thing! “Of course not,” she answered tightly. “It happened. It was real.” I’m not delusional. Or unwell.

“We were here,” Jimex added, before Natalya could make her rebuttal. And the androids all drew closer to Park, like a curtain closing around her.

“We were all witness to it,” Dylanex intoned. “There was an anomaly. But it was not the ship’s failure.”

Natalya made a face. “Whose was it, then?” she demanded.

“No one’s,” the androids all said.

They’re like a single entity, Park thought, looking around at them wonderingly. A multi-limbed hydra, all of the heads finishing each other’s sentences. Connecting their thoughts. At the same time the absurd thought came to her that the androids were forming their own little community, a primitive society of sorts. Jimex, the leader. Ellenex, the healer. Dylanex, the warrior. Children playacting, given roles. They were even pretending to have some sort of culture, disagreements, shared practices, religion and beliefs.

But it was all just posturing, a performance. Mimicry of material they didn’t understand.

Wasn’t it?

Fulbreech was looking at Hunter’s supine body, shifting from foot to foot in discomfort. “Is she . . . going to be all right?”

“She’s knocked out,” Park said, a little helplessly.

He gave her an incredulous look. “That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Park turned her head. “Ellenex?”

The medical android stepped forward. “I have administered sedatives,” she said, clasping her hands neatly in front of her. “Officer Hanover will sleep until morning. She needs the rest. But there is no permanent damage.”

“We should call Chanur,” Natalya said then, her voice hard. Her eyes were bloodshot and watery. “I don’t trust a bot’s diagnosis. Or its treatments.”

“Calling Chanur means Hunter gets frozen,” Park told her.

“Yes? And?”