A wet, slobbery tongue to the face was not the nicest way to be woken. But it beat any of the alternatives.

“Argh, Ratbag,” I moaned. “Leave me alone.”

I rolled over and stuffed my head under the pillow.

Ratbag whined.

Then yipped.

I pulled the pillow down and glared at him.

“Bad dog,” I hissed.

His tongue lolled out, and he cocked his head to the side, giving me one of his signature I’m-too-cute-not-to-love looks.

I snorted. “OK,” I said, “you’re forgiven.”

The lights in the room had already lightened to daytime settings, so I had obviously overslept. That’ll teach me for reading into the wee hours. I pushed the covers off and sat up, scrubbing my face.

“Any sign of movement in the creature’s lair?” I asked.

Ratbag simply let out an enthusiastic yip.

“Not that we’d hear it behind bulkheads if there were,” I grumbled, getting up and staggering to my ensuite bathroom. Ratbag followed. He follows me everywhere.

He hadn’t done that back on Earth, but something about being onboard a spaceship and having to do his business on a three-foot by three-foot piece of artificial grass that wicked away all evidence of said business left Ratbag feeling out of sorts.

I couldn’t blame him. I’d been feeling out of sorts since we’d boarded Aquila too.

I brushed my teeth and did my business, while Ratbag stared balefully at his ‘grass’.

“Go on,” I said. “Don’t be a baby.”

The three-minute shower wasn’t nearly long enough to do my hair properly. I’d considered cutting it to make things easier. But we’d had to give up so much to be here, giving up that seemed a little too much to contemplate just yet. Soon, I told myself. I would do it. I hated having dirty hair. But I also hated the thought of how my father would react when he saw I’d cut it.

Courage wasn’t my strongest character trait.

I snorted and tied my hair up in a messy bun, then stepped under the pitifully too short shower spray.

Exactly three minutes later I was out, my blonde hair starting to frizz slightly. I dragged a brush through it and then added some precious product. It wasn’t up to my father’s exacting standards, but that was half the fun of it. I blinked at my reflection in the mirror. Seeing my mother’s eyes and hair, and my father’s too long chin.

I tilted it one way and then the other. Those were my mother’s eyes, weren’t they? I was starting to forget her. I made short work of my makeup. Just enough to please my father and then selected a casual outfit out of my wardrobe.

By the time I was ready to leave my room, Ratbag had won his own personal battle with courage and finished his business.

“Good dog,” I said scratching him behind the ear and offering him a treat. “Wanna go for a walk?”

Tiny tail wagging, he ran across the room to the door and waited for me to attach his leash. I probably could have let him run wild. Not too much was denied me. Except longer showers. But even though Ratbag was the only dog onboard Aquila, and wouldn’t get into a fight with a bigger one while we walked, I always felt better when I knew he was on his leash.

Leash attached, I slapped my wrist comm to the door panel and carefully peered out, checking the way was clear.

“Now quiet, baby,” I whispered. “Don’t want to wake up the monster.”

I tiptoed across the sitting room and past the kitchen and dining room, then held my breath. I was fairly sure Ratbag was holding his too. I could hear my father’s voice down the corridor. Loud. Obnoxious. Yelling at someone. His office door was open. The door to our quarters was no more than five feet past it.

We weren’t going to make it.

I waited for a particularly virulent explosion of venom and double-timed it towards freedom.

“Adriana!” my father bellowed, cutting off whomever was getting an earful over his comm channel. “Where are you going dressed like that?”

“Just walking Ratbag, Father,” I said. “I won’t go far. I promise.”

“Why do you insist on calling that thing…Ratbag?”

Because you wouldn’t let me call him Rascal, I thought bitterly.

“Roger’s a silly name for a dog,” I offered. “He doesn’t look anything like a ‘Roger’ to me.”

My father stared at me from across his too big desk. Shirt sleeves fastened with gold cufflinks, tie straight as an arrow, piercing black eyes glaring at me.

“I want to talk to you later,” he said. Ratbag was safe for the time being.

“OK,” I said.

“I’m too busy right now,” he added. “But I want you back here, dressed in something more appropriate at one o’clock. Luncheon with the mayor.”

I suppressed a groan and nodded.

“Appropriate attire, Adriana. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded his head and slammed a finger down on his viewscreen, making the device wobble.

“Have you corrected your mistake?” my father said to the screen.

“It will take longer than that to change the coding,” a man’s voice said.

“Don’t give me excuses. Give me what I want. I can’t make it more simple than that.”

His eyes came up to see I was still standing there, like some unfortunate deer caught in the sights of a hunter.

He scowled. Waved me off. And then pressed a button that shut the door to his office in my face.

“All right, then,” I said to the gel coating. “Walkies!”

“Yip yip!” came the ever-present joyful reply.

“What would I do without you, Ratbag?” I asked.

He wagged his tail.

We stepped out of the leaseholder’s quarters, and I let out a sigh of relief. One obstacle down. One more to go and then we’d be home free.

As we started walking toward the central hub, which unfortunately would take us far too close to the mayoral offices, the gel wall beside us lit up in a pleasing shade of green.

“Good morning, Adi,” Aquila said.

“Good morning, Aquila,” I replied. “How’s it going?”

“It is going quite well. Thank you.”

“Any chance you can tell me if the mayor’s up ahead?” I asked.

“The mayor is not on this deck,” the AI replied.

“That’s a relief,” I muttered.

“What are your plans today, Adi?”

“I’m going to see if they need some help down in the habitats. There’s a florist there that I’ve befriended, and she lets me play with some of the designs. I’m getting quite good at it.”

“I would avoid Habitat One if you wish to miss the mayor.”

“Got it. Mandy’s stall is in the Habitat Two central hub, so we should be OK.”

“I shall leave you then, Adi. Enjoy your day.”

“You too, Aquila. Have fun.”

“I am not capable of having fun, but I will…hope for fewer systems anomalies than usual.”

I scowled at the gel floor as I waited for the lift.

“Do you get a lot of those?” I asked.

“Adi,” Aquila admonished. “You may be a VIP passenger, but you are not Anderson Universal crew. I am not authorised to tell you that.”

“Then why mention it?” I groused, stepping onto the thankfully empty lift.

“I was making conversation. They say it helps the civilians to be more at ease with my presence.”

“I’m already at ease with you, Aquila. You know that.”

“I do. I merely use you for practice.”

“Gee thanks,” I muttered as the lift stopped at the Habitat Two central hub.

“You are welcome,” the AI said in his monotone voice. “I must go now.”

“Goodbye, Aquila,” I said, stepping out into the colour and bustle of normalcy. Or as normal as it gets onboard a spaceship.

“Goodbye, Adi,” the AI said, and the gel wall returned to its former white setting.

I wasn’t fooled. The artificial intelligences onboard the Anderson Universal ships were always present. I’d read as much as I could about them before we’d launched, and even managed to find some new information once we’d left Earth. Thanks to good old Dad.

There was nothing on this vessel that wasn’t controlled by Aquila. We might think we had autonomy in our everyday life. I might even think my floral designs were mine alone.

But even those, I was sure, were tweaked and adjusted and steered in the direction the AI wanted.

We might be in space.

But we were not alone.