...But then she arched a brow, clearly catching on to my sidestep. “No, I meant your bio-”

“Holy fuck, that woman could cook!” I cut her off, leaning back like I hadn’t just sprinted past her question. “That pot roast I mentioned earlier? It lives in my dreams. She used to get lab-grown beef, the old kind, before they figured out how to synthesize fat properly. She had this method passed down from her family. Supposedly, they ran a Chinese takeout place on Earth back before the Great Exodus. She’d use this technique called velveting to make the meat perfectly tender and juicy.”

Elaine opened her mouth, but I didn’t give her the chance. “Of course, there was the fat problem,” I continued, waving a hand like I was on a cooking show. “She’d buy Vaccho tallow in bulk, illegally, I might add, from some black-market rancher dodging Strexia’s livestock tax. She said it gave the roast that rich, fatty kick you just couldn’t get otherwise.”

Elaine’s gaze narrowed slightly, getting the hint.

And that's How you dodge a question.

Elaine leaned back slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “Delia hardly ever cooks. I grew up eating stuff from the company commissary, or we’d go out to eat. Had some great meals together over the years. She showed me the whole galaxy without ever leaving Bay City.”

I couldn’t help but think about the massive differences between our upbringings, despite the fact that we were both orphans. Elaine grew up surrounded by innovation, wealth, and opportunity. Meanwhile, I grew up on Titan’s South Side, scraping by with a single foster mom who worked her ass off to keep a house full of kids on the straight and narrow. And Bay City? You could live there your whole life, eat out every night, and still never run out of places to try. That kind of endless variety was a luxury I’d never known as a kid.

We emerged from the lab into the dimly lit Flight Simulation Deck. The air felt cooler here, and the glow of holomatrix cockpits cast shifting light across the room. Ollie was perched in one of the pilot’s seats, surrounded by a holographic display. A digital flight instructor floated nearby, observing as Ollie wove his simulated cargo hauler through glowing rings to practice maneuvering.

Ollie groaned in frustration, his Scottish accent thicker than usual. “Oi! You said this cargo-haulin’ gig would involve fighting pirates in deep space! When do I get to learn to pop their claws open and chow down on them like a starving lad at a Cajun restaurant?”

The instructor flickered for a moment, its ever-present grin unwavering. “Now, Ollie, learning to safely maneuver a cargo hauler through space is just as important as combat. However…” the hologram’s tone took on a hint of amusement, “the rules of engagement within Autonomous Frontier Space are part of the next lesson, titled ‘With Extreme Prejudice.’”

Ollie’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “That’s what I’m fookin’ talking about~!” he crowed, throwing himself into the controls with renewed vigor. The simulated hauler zipped through the rings with ease, his devilish grin growing wider with each successful pass. The instructor gave an approving nod.

With everything officially taken care of, I figured this was my cue to make my exit. Time to get the fuck out of here and finally get back on track. The casino wasn’t going to find itself, and now that I’d made it halfway there, I wasn’t about to stick around any longer than I had to.

As I turned to leave, I nearly ran face-first into Delia, who was suddenly standing right behind me.

“GAH!” I yelped, startled out of my skin.

Delia, equally surprised, let out a startled scream of her own, jumping back like I’d just set off a firecracker.

For a second, we just stared at each other, wide-eyed. Then, as if on cue, she burst into laughter, doubling over as if the whole thing was the funniest thing she’d ever experienced.

“Good fuck!” I gasped, clutching my chest. “I see where Elaine gets it from!”

Delia, still laughing, wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I—ha!-I didn’t mean to sneak up on you!” Her shoulders twitched with another bout of giggles, her nervous energy bleeding out into the moment. It wasn’t hard to see that being jumpy was just part of her makeup.

Behind her, a holopit displayed a live representation of Gonzo in the hangar, its parts being swapped out and refurbished. My curiosity quickly shifted gears. “What you got going on over here, Delia?”

I walked over to the pit and leaned in, watching the projection. Gonzo sat in the hangar, surrounded by a swarm of mechanics. Panels lit up as systems came online, and I could see parts being swapped in and out like pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle.

Delia followed, still smoothing out the last of her giggles. “You mentioned you were heading to the Edge of Existence,” she said, her voice settling into its usual tone. “When I saw the state of your ship’s engine room, I didn’t think it would make it to Icarus, much less the apparent edge of the known universe.”

There was no judgment in her tone, but it still stung a little. I hadn’t realized Gonzo’s condition was that bad.

Still, the display in front of me was proof enough. Delia seemed to be personally overseeing the operation, orchestrating it all from the holopit like a symphony conductor. I was a little taken aback by her generosity. When something seems too good to be true, it usually is. Someone had told me that once. I just wish I could remember who.

“So,” I said, clutching my optics in my hands, my instincts already sounding the alarm, “I suspect there’s something you want in return for all these upgrades?”

Delia gave me a warm smile, the kind of smile that could put even the most suspicious person at ease. “I’m curious about what you may find at the ‘Edge of Existence.’ You can imagine my surprise when I reviewed Phillip’s math and realized he might actually be right. So here’s my offer: I’ll provide you with my assistance and the resources of iNNoTec to help you on your journey. In return, I’d like your findings, scientific readings, observations, and whatever else you uncover in that part of the universe.”

Her tone was casual, but her words were precise, almost rehearsed.

I exhaled, loosening my grip on my optics. Elaine, lingering in the background, chuckled softly at how protective I was being. Delia’s offer made sense—it was a fair trade, all things considered.

“That sounds reasonable,” I admitted, sliding my glasses back onto my face. “Alright, I’m game~!” I said, clapping my hands together for emphasis.

“Fantastic!” Delia gleamed, her excitement lighting up the room as she led the way toward the hangar.

Before I could follow, Ollie’s voice echoed across the deck. “Oi! Lawrence!”

I turned, smirking as I called back, “What’s up, McDracula?”

His expression soured instantly. “Call me McDracula again, and like my vampiric forefather, I’ll put your head on a pike.”

“Ya know, I’ll keep that in mind.” I replied, suppressing a laugh.

His tone shifted, softening as he added, “But besides all that, don’t stay a stranger, lass. Go and be the badass I know you to be.”

I chuckled, clapping him on the back. “Thanks, Ollie. It was fun. I’ll catch you around.”

As I followed Delia and Elaine into the hangar, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Gonzo sat on the main repair bay platform, and I almost didn’t recognize her. Every panel gleamed, freshly polished, and the mechanics had clearly gone full F.M. League pitstop crew while I was scarfing down lunch.

A pile of worn-out parts sat discarded in the scrap recycler, the remnants of what had once kept Gonzo running by sheer force of will. A mechanic in a welders’s apron stood by the ship’s nosecone, carefully unscrewing the old model plate that read Nebula Surfer. The plate fell to the ground with a loud clank, and in its place, the mechanic installed a new one:

“C.S.S. Gonzo”

Cosmo Surfer ‘99

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath, staring at the upgrade. They’d improved Gonzo so much they legally had to change the model name.

For the first time in a while, I felt a flicker of confidence that this journey might actually be possible.

As the mechanics closed up the last panels on Gonzo, a cheerful jingle played over the intercom. Some of them pulled out lunch bags and headed for the lifts, likely bound for the diner on Deck 83. Others shuffled toward break rooms, chatting about their day like they hadn’t just overhauled a starship bound for the literal edge of existence.

Gonzo’s cargo bay door opened with a pneumatic hiss, gleaming like it had been freshly polished. I turned to my two unlikely allies, Delia and Elaine, standing side by side.

“Well,” I said, gesturing to the sparkling ship, “this entire interaction went nothing like I expected, but I’m glad it happened nonetheless.”

Delia tilted her head, curious as ever. “Oh? And how did you see this going?”

I laughed, realizing just how little I’d thought that far ahead. “Now that I think about it, I have no idea how I expected this to go.”

Elaine rolled her eyes, but I caught the faint smile tugging at her lips, the kind that felt a little too warm for someone who just found me mildly amusing. She stepped closer, surprising me with a sudden hug. Not gonna lie—it caught me off guard, but I returned it after a beat.

When she let go, she lingered for half a second longer than I expected before waving me off with a grin. “I’ll be checking in from time to time. Supplies, assistance—whatever you need. Just let me know, Tracy.” Her voice was light, but that playful wink she threw in at the end felt… different.

I laughed, brushing it off. “Man, if you’d told me earlier that you’d be hugging me and acting all friendly by the end of the day, the me from a few hours ago would’ve laughed in your face.”

Elaine shrugged, still smiling. “Things change.”

As Gonzo’s cargo ramp lowered, now much quieter, without the screech of tortured gears—I walked up, glancing back at the two of them one last time. “Welp, I’ll see you two around. To the Edge of Existence!” I called out as the ramp began to rise.

“Safe travels!” Delia shouted, her voice just making it through the closing door.

Elaine stayed quiet, watching me as the ramp sealed shut.

The moment I stepped into the lounge, I noticed the difference. Everything had been replaced, repaired, or refurbished. Thankfully, they hadn’t touched my special panels. If they’d made Gonzo look all corporate and sleek like the iNNoTec ships in the hangar, I’d have been pissed.

“Webster~!” I called out, ready to get moving.

A chime I’d never heard before rang out, smoother than the old one, and a voice responded. “Hello and welcome to WebsterOS ’99. Would you like to restore your previous Webster’s memory from the backup drive, or are we starting fresh today?”

I froze. I could start fresh. A clean slate. No more dealing with an AI dumber than a bucket of bolts.

“Fresh,” I said without hesitation. “You can shove the old one deep into that drive. Just back up my personal info from the data center in the engine room.”

The voice responded smoothly, almost warmly. “Hello, Tracy Lawrence. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to working alongside you. What would you like to refer to me as so that I may better assist you?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I can name you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the voice replied. “In this revision, I’ve been given the ability to have my name changed by authorized users.”

I smirked. “About damn time. It’s exhausting explaining to non-human colleagues that Gonzo and Webster are the same thing. Your new name is now Gonzo, to avoid confusion.”

“Very good, ma’am. I will now only respond to Gonzo,” the AI replied, its tone so formal and Geeves-like it made me cringe.

“Oh man, I forgot how stuffy and formal you AIs are fresh out of the box. Something I’ll have to deal with later,” I muttered, pulling up the coordinates for the starting point of Phillip’s star map, Beldasia Omega—a three-day journey from here.

“Gonzo, go ahead and follow the safety route out of the system sent in by-” Before I could finish, the ship was already taking off, making the intricate safety waltz through Barnard’s Loop with a speed and precision Webster could only dream of.

“You’re a real one, Gonzo,” I said, moseying my way to my lounge as the ship hummed smoothly beneath me.

The folks at iNNoTec had been far nicer than I’d expected. Especially Delia Bradford. Unlike most founders and CEOs of tech companies, she genuinely seemed to care about humanity’s advancement. Hell, she didn’t even trust the future of iNNoTec to potential shareholders. Bradford would probably rather let the company die with her than risk it falling into the wrong hands.

Makes sense, though. Back in the early 1970s, the entire company became stateless, retreating to their man-made island, Point Nemo Campus, after the U.S. Government demanded they hand over their advanced tech for military use. The Feds wanted it for fighting “the commies,” or whatever buzzword the military brass were throwing around back then.

Instead of giving in, iNNoTec went rogue. They stayed afloat selling non-combative tech to the rest of the world until 1984, when Reagan lost to Walter Mondale, who lifted the sanctions. Bradford’s company played by its own rules, and honestly, I respected the hell out of that.

Settling into the lounge, I plopped onto the cushions and looked over the now fully upgraded holopit. For once, it wasn’t makeshift. The display lit up in full spectral color as I prepared to dive in.

“Okay,” I said to myself, leaning forward. “Pull up everything in the database on the casino. D.A.A. records included.

Files flooded the display—six case files, all eerily similar.

Every single one of them started the same way: work dries up, hard times hit, and they’ve got nothing to their name but a starship. Each person sets out, chasing riches and salvation at the Casino at the Edge of Existence.

And then? Months of silence.

When they finally returned, their ships were in various states of repair—some damaged, others practically destroyed. One poor bastard came back dead, having jumped straight into their own coolant tank.

But the worst part?

Every single one of them came back absolutely insane.

I stared at the last report, a chill crawling up my spine.

Shit.