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Summary:

This is a fucking terrible idea, I thought, and because ART knows me way better than I like to admit, it replied to that (thoroughly unspoken) thought:

Many studies have indicated that exposure to equine species has a markedly positive effect on human health and wellness.

Didn’t ask was my snippy retort, and I added, They didn’t consider construct health and wellness in those reports.

The human part of you remains human no matter how much you disregard it, ART pointed out, and wow. Okay. Uncalled for.

Notes:

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Murderbot in a cowboy hat, blue shirt and scarf, looking into the eyes of a brown horse. Sunny grass background

This whole planet was so horrifyingly organic.

Okay, yeah, sure, Vargoss was technically a planetoid, and all planets are organic— but not to this extent. Vargossians lived a staunchly low-tech lifestyle, and went so far as to advertise the lack of tech as a main reason to visit their planet/colony.

Vargoss was an independently-owned-and-operated planetoid that had been liberated by PSMUNT on one of Tarik’s first missions as an official member of ART’s crew. ART had given me the file about the mission when we got the news about this trip, but I didn’t read it. Instead, I let Iris explain the whole ordeal to me in animated detail. 

Vargoss originated as a colony that would serve as a vacation destination— a theme park, specifically. The company that started the colony was an entertainment company, which really should have given a hint to how well that colonization project was going to go. The company’s executives were dead set on turning a whole planet into a theme park based on a Western-style serial they were set to debut; the sort of show that old men usually watch— with cowboys and horses and a lot of tight pants. 

Unsurprisingly, the colony was ultimately abandoned by the company after the serial completely bombed. 

The company’s investment in the colony, along with the terrible failure of their series, led to a slow death by financial hemorrhage until they went bankrupt and left the colony for dead. That’s where PSMUNT came in, producing an original colony charter that ceded the planetoid and all its infrastructure to the original colonists (referred to as cast members, which everyone hated, even though PSMUNT’s legal scholars were the ones who came up with the wording), permitted them to use any and all corporate property to ensure their long-term well-being, and sang the praises of the “cast members’ talent in and dedication to preservation of ancient Earthling culture.” 

The colonists gratefully accepted their freshly “uncovered” charter and promptly decided to do exactly what the company planned to do with them initially. When I said that I thought that was insane because fuck companies, Dr. Bharadwaj gently mentioned that people find “comfort in the familiar,” and pointed out that I also have a tendency to stick to what I know in “both profession and leisure.” She snort-laughed when I said hypocrisy doesn’t count when I’m the one doing it. 

Anyway.

When it was time for Vargoss’ grand opening as a vacation destination, they sent a shiny invitation (made of real paper) to PSMUNT, inviting any members of the initial liberation crew to an all-expenses-paid weeklong stay at their shiny new theme park. 

Iris desperately wanted to go, and PSMUNT was happy to give her the chance to get “on-the-books leadership experience.” ART would haul her and various goods to Vargoss, with Tarik serving as their escort. But then, PSMUNT’s admin realized Tarik was three months overdue for shore leave, threw a hissy fit, and demanded he take advantage of the vacation opportunity. Then, they begged me to be their escort because: 

1. I was already onboard ART, since I never get off unless coerced,

2. Contractors don’t accrue shore leave, and

3. ART would turn this whole ship around if no one was going to watch its humans on this trip.

So, here I was, awkwardly following along behind Iris, Tarik, and their blonde, bubbly tour guide Ollie while she led us down the themed avenue, all of us clad in themed outfits that matched our themed activities. I could see traces of the serial (oh-so-creatively titled Wild, Wild Vargoss, which ART, Iris, and I watched a few episodes of after we got the invitation to attend their grand opening) in the town’s layout. They had modeled most of it directly after the set, with a central avenue featuring an inn, a saloon, a general store, and a watering well, but with other non-canonical touristy spots sprinkled in— the Shaved Ice And Popcorn! stand parked next to the saloon would have been out of place in one of the show’s cowboy shootouts.

I feel like I need to say that I definitely understand why the company went bankrupt, because Wild, Wild Vargoss was complete shit. Sure, Westerns aren’t exactly my thing, but I know good characters and storytelling when I see them. We managed to make a much more compelling story under “intense duress” (Dr. Bharadwaj’s words, not mine) on the BE colony, with our humans sleep deprived and my processors nearly fried from the stress of it all. Wild, Wild Vargoss was just embarrassingly bad, and that’s before you do the math of buying a whole planetoid on presumption of success. 

Overall, the park was going for a rustic and unplugged vibe, which meant stylistically that all of the buildings looked like ancient Earth dwellings and practically that there was no fucking planetary feed. Not as a bug, or a failure on the company-or-colony’s part, but as a feature. Humans could go there to get away from technology, as fucking stupid and inconvenient as that sounds. I know by now that humans are, as a collective, completely insane, but it still manages to surprise me what they will categorize as “fun.” When I complained to Mensah about the trip being so low-tech, she sighed and said it sounded nice. 

Luckily, the planetary administration were so grateful to PSMUNT that they were willing to accommodate any requests that we had regarding our trip. So, in addition to getting permission for me to come along after the fact (posing as a university-commissioned special SecUnit), we were allowed to set up a feed relay system to at least stay in contact with ART while we were on-planet. 

Truthfully, the relay was set up only for me, which made the organic part of my neural tissues feel weird and warm and fuzzy— but I digress. Tarik wasn’t augmented, and Iris wanted to have an “authentic Vargoss experience,” so she changed the settings on her implant to have minimal integration with the already pitiful relay feed. ART was pouting about it, which Iris found funny and I found miserable, considering that I was the only one left in the blast zone of its whining. I tried to minimize the damage that its bitching and moaning would cause to my own sanity by keeping up a near-constant direct feed view from my eyes for ART to gawk at. This had already had a few unfortunate drawbacks, though— chiefly, when a shopkeeper shoved a mirror in my face after Ollie and Iris dressed me up in a soft denim shirt, a blue suede vest, and a silky neck kerchief. The shopkeeper was chattering about how the shades of the clothes went “beautifully” with the bright blue circuitry on my neck and face, and then suddenly I was staring back at myself in an ornate oval of shining silver. It’s a miracle I didn’t completely drop my visual input out of my own shock, let alone the feeling of ART suddenly riding my fucking eyeballs like they were the last shuttle off a mining installation about to fall into a black hole.

Ollie bopped along at the front of our small group, her elbow locked with Iris’, her shiny golden curls bouncing with each step. They were chatting conspiratorially, with Ollie weaving in her special Tour Guide Knowledge at regular intervals. Iris oohed and ahhed at everything with a revolting sincerity and regularity that made me wonder if she had a romantic interest in the other girl.

Puke. 

She was taking us to the stables because PSMUNT’s complimentary all-expenses-paid grand opening package included unlimited horseback riding. 

Fucking horseback riding. 

Putting fragile human bodies on top of two ton, unpredictable fauna with bone shards for feet and handing them the controls. 

This is a fucking terrible idea, I thought, and because ART knows me way better than I like to admit, it replied to that (thoroughly unspoken) thought:

Many studies have indicated that exposure to equine species has a markedly positive effect on human health and wellness.

Didn’t ask was my snippy retort, and I added, They didn’t consider construct health and wellness in those reports.

The human part of you remains human no matter how much you disregard it, ART pointed out, and wow. Okay. Uncalled for.

Eventually, I’ll figure out how to punch you in the face.

ART made the feed-equivalent of an amused snort. Only after you figure out how to ride a horse.

Stupid asshole.

-

The stablehouse complex was bigger than I expected— the building was shaped like an arrow, with a three-story square dwelling at the point and two long, squat wings with metal roofs out to each side. Ollie led us up the wooden steps into the white-painted dwelling. The inside was just as rustic as the rest of the resort— another point for the accuracy of their advertising— and another smiling human greeted us from behind a reception desk. 

I felt yet another twitch of annoyance at this planet’s lack of a feed and I used my eyes’ magnification to see the name tag on the desk human’s uniform: Jac, they/them pronouns. Jac had warm brown skin and wore their hair in long locs. They were tall and lean and had a smile so white it hurt my eyes.

“Hey y’all,” they greeted us with those blindingly white teeth, “Looking to ride some horses today?”

Tarik was leaning in harder than he needed to, and I could feel his attention laser focused on Jac. 

Ugh. 

He probably wants to ride something, ART added unhelpfully, and I struggled to keep the disgust off my face. 

Iris nodded enthusiastically, the puff of her hair not captured by her red bandanna bobbing with the movement. Ollie beamed at Iris, then leaned forward on her elbows to talk to Jac. 

“Yeah, they’re wanting a guided ride,” she mock-whispered conspiratorially, “cause they’re all-inclusive!”

“Well, well!” Jac raised their eyebrows and grinned at Ollie, “Gotta make sure we line up the best for them, then.”

They directed their eyes over to us, resting their gaze on each person for a moment in a move I felt must have been specially designed to make me viscerally uncomfortable. Then, they hummed a happy little sound, came out from behind the counter, and dramatically swept their hands over to indicate a door to the left side of the lobby. 

“Right this way, friends!” 

Ugh.

What a cheerful human, ART commented. I like them. 

I hate you, I told it, so much. 

The humans chattered inane conversational bits and bobs at each other while we passed through a short, well-lit hallway, where we held our ticket wristbands to a scanner that made a little dinging noise, presumably checking to see if we had tickets to this Attraction. 

Jac spun and began walking backwards to chat— I’d seen plenty of humans eat complete shit pulling that trick— and then, horrifyingly, looked straight at me and asked, “Will you be needing a special mount on account of your augments, friend?” 

I promptly looked at quite literally anything besides Jac, and got a great view of a whole range of human emotions on human faces: Iris, annoyed, Tarik, bemused, Jac, confused, and Ollie, stricken. 

“Oh my God,” she hissed, “you can’t just ask people that!” Her blue eyes darted to me and back and I hoped that my facial expression(s) didn’t do anything too freaky. I couldn’t tell if my relative lack of reaction helped or hurt the situation, but Iris managed to save the day with a slick subject change.

“What do you mean by ‘mount’?” she asked pointedly, and Ollie looked pleadingly at Jac to take that conversational lead and run with it.  

“We have horses that can bear different weights,” Jac clarified sheepishly, “I’m not sure if any of those augments are heavy, so…” 

Thank God the people on this planet were not even modernized enough to know what a SecUnit really is.

“SecUnit isn’t much heavier than a regular person of a similar build,” Iris answered for me, because she loves me.Tragically, both of the Vargoss humans didn’t seem satisfied enough with that answer to take her word for it. They both looked at me. I nodded and hoped that it would be good enough for them.

Once that excruciating interaction ended, Jac finally pushed through the other door at the end of the hallway.

An organic, grassy smell overcame my olfactory senses, so overwhelming that I dialed them down a few notches. It was not a bad smell, but it was one that was so distinctly planetary that it raised my metaphorical hackles. It smelled like hay and… animal. The soft sounds of horses shuffling around in their stalls, drinking water, and being cared for by other Vargossians filled the space, along with the hum of industrial fans that kept cool air circulating throughout the massive building. Stalls lined the sides of the room, most occupied, with open doors made of metal bars. Some horses poked their heads out of their stables, looking at us curiously. It seemed like the other grand opening guests had not made their way to this part of the park yet. We’d be the test subjects of this equine experiment. Joy.

Our little party stopped at a stable close to the entrance where, instead of a horse, there was a big metal vaguely horse-shaped contraption kitted out with all nine million straps you apparently need to ride a horse (collectively called the tack, apparently). Jack demonstrated the proper way to get on and off of the horse, explaining all the while the names and purposes of the different straps, belts, and little dongles that were part of the whole getup. They also gave a safety spiel, which I unfortunately had to actually pay attention to now because there was no premade document or video file that I could save in the feed to refer to later. 

We briefly split up, then, to my (and ART’s) displeasure. Jac planted me at the entrance to a stall and disappeared to help Tarik get settled with his own mount. I peered inside. The horse stood at the very back of the stall, but it didn’t seem scared or otherwise upset. It took a few steps towards me. Its shiny brown coat caught the ambient half-daylight of the stables. It snuffled, then blew out air through its big nostrils in a sigh. 

It gazed at me with its huge, baleful eyes, and I reflected miserably on the fact that I probably reeeaaally needed to work on the whole eye contact thing if looking at a horse was making me this uncomfortable. 

But in my defense, who in the fuck has ever seen a damn horse? 

And no, don’t point out the obvious answer of everyone on Vargoss, because no, that doesn’t count. 

Then, I found out that I was dedicating way too much of my attention to this horse and way too little to my surroundings. Jac’s coming back, ART pointed out, and its intervention kept me from jumping in surprise and alarm. 

“This lovely lady’s name is Cherry,” they declared with a smile towards the horse. “She’ll treat you real good!” They reached out to fondly stroke Cherry’s nose, and she nuzzled into their touch. The hair on her face looked soft.

Touch her, ART near-demanded at the same time as Jac asked, “Would you like to pet her?”

I didn’t know. I didn’t trust myself to speak. Tentatively, I nodded. Jac smiled encouragingly and gestured to Cherry. I slowly stretched my hand out and carefully laid my palm against the bridge of the horse’s nose. 

She was warm, solid and real in a way that felt different than humans usually were. Humans are soft— they feel breakable, like if you do anything with any meaningful force behind it, they’ll snap in half. Cherry felt sturdy, but not in the way that ART does— firm and unbreakable— but dependable, like if you pressed yourself to her, she’d press back just enough to hold you up.

”Let’s go ahead and lead her out,” Jac murmured, a small smile teasing at their lips. I only resented the way it seemed to know a little bit. Jac had fastened the saddle into place with sure, efficient hands while I was mentally waxing poetic about this strange new fauna, and I stepped back to let them put on the bridle and attach the reins. Cherry calmly let it happen, completely unfazed by the handling. She’d spent her whole life with these humans, I figured— and been treated well, judging by the fondness in Jac’s eyes and voice when they spoke to her, and the happy little noise Ollie made when she saw me astride her as we came up to the group waiting at the stables’ exit to all ride out together. 

Jac fetched their own horse on the way out. The creature was white with black spots and had a teal-and-purple set of reins— much cooler than the plain rentals that we had.

Everyone got on their horses with only mild kerfuffle— Tarik in particular seemed kind of freaked out by being on top of the huge fauna, which added another point in his favor in my mental tally of my humans’ sanity. His security background definitely gave him an unfair advantage there, but hey, you can’t blame me for that!

I noticed that Iris and Ollie were sporting matching cowboy hats now, both woven out of straw like the one Tarik was already wearing. Ollie wore hers so naturally that it might have grown straight out of her head, but Iris’ was a little lopsided, disrupted by her usual puffy hairstyle. I could practically hear ART cooing in my head at the image, and yeah, I’ll admit that she was pretty adorable. I was thankful, though, that they hadn’t put one of the hats on me.

But alas, I was too hopeful.

“Oh, you’ll need this,” Jac said, then, out of nowhere, they produced a wide brimmed hat and made to pop it on my head. It will keep your skin safe from burning and keep the glare out of your eyes. I was about to say that my skin doesn’t burn and I didn’t need the hat when Iris yelled “Thanks so much!!!” way too loud and literally reached over to smack the hat the rest of the way down on my head.

Fuck my stupid life.

”There!” chirped Ollie, “Now you look like a real cowboy!”

CowBOT. ART’s feed-voice was as close to a whisper as I had ever heard it.

Fuck my stupid life.

-

We rode out into the wide, empty plain on a well-worn dirt and gravel path, staying close enough together to still be considered a group. We stopped at a sightseeing spot at the crest of a medium-sized hill. The sky was so blue, and the air clear and crisp. We could see for kilos, all rolling hills and gently-swaying golden grasses. Tiny birds flitted about, as well as butterflies and other smaller buzzing insects; some of the insects landed on the wildflowers growing here and there amongst the grasses, bending them with their weight and sending them swaying even harder in the breeze. 

It was… beautiful. 

I don’t call things beautiful lightly. 

I feel like humans just toss that word around sometimes, assigning it to anything and everything that strikes their attention. Lots of things are pretty, or sparkly, or striking, but I don’t think many things are truly beautiful. But this? This was.

I could feel ART in my feed, but it didn’t say anything— just existed, its presence heavy as it leaned into my senses to soak up the scene in front of us. I was thankful to have it there, and to have Cherry beneath me. Truthfully, I felt like if I’d been standing up, my knees would have gone jelly-like in the face of the scene. 

After a few minutes of awed silence, the humans started to speak about their plan from here in hushed, reverent tones. I ignored them in favor of focusing my attention on… feeling. The sun and wind on my skin, the swell and fall of Cherry’s breathing. I don’t need to respirate anywhere near as much as a horse presumably does, but I experimentally synchronized my breathing with hers as much as I could. A feeling of calm fell over me— the sort that I usually can only find holed up in ART’s engine rooms, laid flat on the floor to feel the soft vibration of the reactors propelling us through space.

Iris raised her voice to tell me the group had decided to  split up to start wandering around. She has some sort of secret construct-bot-sense, I think, that comes from growing up side by side with ART— she can always tell when I’m in my head. Normally I’d protest at the mere suggestion of parting ways on an unfamiliar planet, but I… just nodded. Sue me. My threat assessment module was reading and rereading at practically subzero. I knew there wasn’t really anything around that could cause my humans any physical harm, and I was absolutely sparing myself psychological duress by staying far enough away from the group that I couldn’t hear Tarik hitting on Jac. 

I held the reins gently in my hand as Cherry and I plodded along the dusty path ahead of our companions. I kept a cursory eye out for threats, but I’ll be honest— the gentle sway of Cherry’s steady motion lulled me into even more of a stupor. I even jumped when Ollie let out a whoop and put on a burst of speed to blast past me. Iris laughed, delighted, and sped up too, albeit nowhere near as fast as the other human.

When we came to another sightseeing spot, Tarik and Jac decided to pass it up. Jac was rambling excitedly about a creek that was, “Just a few more minutes up the road, seriously!” But I just wanted… to look. I wanted to be still and look.

I slid down off of Cherry just to feel the ground beneath me again. She didn’t seem to mind— in fact, she bumped my shoulder with her muzzle after a few moments of me standing there, motionless. She gave a soft snort, and I turned to face her. My look-like-a-human code must be too advanced, by now, because I felt the corners of my lips curl up the tiniest bit along with a swooping warmth in my chest., When I tried to suppress them both, they swelled up even stronger.

I decided just to let it happen.

Maybe planets aren’t so bad after all.

Notes:

huge thank you to my collaborators and the MBRBB coordinators for being so patient with me while trying to get this thing done <33 much love yall

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