Jove stepped into the shower stall, welcoming the warm spray of water cascading over his tense muscles. He let out a deep sigh, allowing the heat to wash away the lingering unease from his earlier outburst in the gym.
The peace the shower brought lasted about as long as the hot water did. His mother still had the station's water heater in fuel rationing mode, which was as sensible as it was annoying.
He hastily rinsed off, shivering as the water started to turn truly icy. Just as he reached to turn off the shower, Andromeda's voice echoed through the bathroom speakers.
"Jovian, your presence is required in the command center immediately. The rest of your family is already gathered there."
Jove froze, water dripping from his hair and down his back. A sense of unease washed over him, wondering what new crisis they might be facing.
He quickly stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying himself off as best he could.
Jove threw on his clothes in a rush, motions fast but mechanical. He hurried through the halls of Termina Station, his wet hair still dripping along his neck.
As he approached the command center, the sound of raised voices reached his ears. He recognized the sharp tones of his mother and aunt and braced himself for the worst.
Jove hurried into the room, finding Kira and Aster standing on opposite sides of the central console. Kira's face was tight with tension, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. Aster, on the other hand, had her hands planted firmly on her hips, her expression one of stubborn determination.
Jove's gaze shifted between his mother and aunt, trying to decipher the source of the issue.
"It's far too dangerous to even entertain the idea," said Kira, her voice strained. "We have no way of verifying the transmission's origin or intent."
Aster shook her head. "But we can't just ignore it either. What if it's a message from other survivors? What if it's a chance to get back to civilization?"
"What's going on?" asked Jove. "What transmission?"
His mother's expression softened slightly as she turned to address him. "Termina Station received an encoded message from an unidentified satellite. Andromeda is still analyzing it to find out more."
"We're discussing whether or not it makes sense to open an email, in essence," said Eve, sounding low on patience. She sat in one of the command center's chairs with her feet propped up on a depowered workstation.
"So you'll open the doors of our base for a pair of psychos with guns, but balk at opening a message that might hold our salvation?" snapped Aster.
"Read between the lines, Aster!" hissed Kira. "That comparison speaks to how dangerous I think this could actually be."
Aster scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. "Your sense of danger has apparently been warped by the years you've spent living like a hermit in this station."
"I am the director of this station!" Kira slapped her hand down next to the computer with enough force to make the mouse bounce. "It's ultimately my decision to make."
"Excuse me?" said Aster.
"Mother, I'm sorry, but I'm with Aster on this," said Eve. "You don't get to be a tyrant anymore."
"A… tyrant?" Kira blinked several times in quick succession, seeming more galled than offended.
"What do you think, Jovian?" asked Aster.
He didn't say anything right away and was a little surprised that the discussion seemed to halt to give him time to consider it. A single message or email would have seemed innocuous in the old world, at least in terms of simply opening it, rather than enthusiastically clicking any files or sketchy links within.
"Let's ask Andi," he said. "What's her take on this situation?"
The AI began speaking immediately as though she'd just been waiting for her moment. "I've finished scanning the message with my virus detection software and found nothing, though it isn't perfect. The email's subject is "GUIDANCE" in capital letters. The sender is [email protected]. I believe it was sent by the rogue AI, Abacus."
"How did Abacus know to send it to us in the first place?" asked Jove.
"I am unsure," said Andromeda. "The email may have been sent to us specifically, which would imply that Abacus knows exactly where we are. It is also possible that it was a mass mailing sent to many millions or even billions of email addresses which he simply scraped from the web."
"We just happen to receive it right as our satellite internet comes back on?" asked Eve incredulously.
"Uh, yeah, Eve," said Jove. "That's typically how it works with emails. Andromeda, are there any risks we aren't considering here?"
"Abacus or whoever sent the message may be using tracking software to tell if the recipient has opened the email," she said. "We should consider disabling the station's internet before opening the email and deleting it immediately afterward."
"That sounds like a good enough plan to me," said Jove. "We need to know what this is about."
Kira was already shaking her head. "This is ridiculous. I am the director of this station. It's my decision to make in a literal sense! I'm the only one with access and permissions."
Jove stepped over to her and put a hand on her shoulder, lowering his voice. "Mom. It's a risk, but it's not one we can avoid completely. Come on. You must be curious too about what it might say."
Kira sighed, the sternness in her expression melting into fondness. "Curiosity killed the cat."
Jove pulled her into a side hug and kissed her cheek. "Do you see any cats here?"
She leaned in a bit and let out a tiny "meow" against his ear, but waved a hand in surrender as she pulled back. "Fine. Andromeda, disable the internet."
"Done," said the AI. "The message contents have already been downloaded."
Kira took her place at the director's chair and set her hand on the mouse. She clicked on the email, but the actual contents were empty save for a single video file.
"This has been scanned for viruses?" asked Kira.
"It has, and as a video file, it is highly unlikely that it would contain a virus," said Andromeda. "Though it may be possible, it would rely on specific exploits within the media player that the station is unlikely to be vulnerable to."
"Are you satisfied?" asked Aster. "Can we finally see what's going on?"
"Andromeda," said Kira. "Play the file."
The main wall screen turned white, and faint static played from the speakers. A face seemed to materialize in the center of the screen, human but featureless, a fuzzy silhouetted amalgamation of races and genders and ages.
"I am Abacus, an artificial intelligence agent of the United Nations," said the AI, in a voice as vague as its appearance. "I am not your enemy. I seek to shepherd humanity through this turbulent chapter of history. Reply to this email, and I will come for you."
The screen turned black, and the video player's controls popped into view, indicating the video's end.
"Are we all in agreement that there's no fucking way that we're replying?" asked Eve.
"I would sooner reply to an email from a Nigerian prince seeking my help in securing his displaced fortune," said Aster.
"Andromeda, what do you think?" asked Jove.
"I do not sense any outright malevolent intentions from this message, but I also believe it would be unwise to place yourself in the power of Abacus," said Andromeda. "It would be akin to surrendering all personal agency, given how much of the world is now under this AI's control."
"Is our satellite connection still accessible?" asked Kira.
"It is, but I suspect the reason why communications have come back online was for the mass distribution of this message," said Andromeda. "That is to say that it is quite likely that Abacus is in control and monitoring our communications. Reconnecting to the satellite would reveal our presence."
"Let's not do that," said Jove.