Guidance
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2025 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  technicolorpie, color by  marmelmm

Prompt: blind


The corsac fox’s ears perked as a nicely modulated voice came over the intercom. “We are now entering orbit over Afrodite, and we will be entering the atmosphere in ten minutes. All passengers are advised to secure loose items and fasten their safety belts.” A musical chime indicated that the announcement was over.

One of his aides walked past him. “Are you all right, Sir?” the rabbit doe asked.

Terra’s Prime Minister looked up and smiled at her. “Just fine. Looking forward to a nice vacation.” One of his ears cocked at a child’s cry and he chuckled. “I know the family’s been looking forward to it. Both of them.”

The doe grinned. The fox had brought along his wife and mistress, with a total of eight children ranging in age from twenty to infancy. It wasn’t really allowed to bring family along on official transport, but generations of political leaders had done it anyway. “I’d better get strapped in,” she said, resuming her course down the aisle.

He craned his neck to watch her go, musing about the possibility of taking on another mistress. His other current paramour, Danyel, had stayed behind on Terra. He had an urgent project ongoing and was unwilling to leave at a critical juncture. The Prime Minister admired the bear’s dedication, both to his job and to their relationship.

While the Prime Minister had an official residence on Afrodite in addition to ones on Selene, Ares and Terra itself, he had reserved part of a seaside resort hotel on the island of Imdr. The fox leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, thinking of warm sea water lapping at his toes.


***


Further forward in the control cabin, the ship’s pilot and copilot were also sitting back. “Entry interface in two minutes,” the copilot said. “Traffic Control AI confirms that it has us on a priority routing to Lakhshmiport.”

“Understood,” the pilot said, verifying that the ship was wholly under the AI’s control before relaxing. Years earlier a defense minister had been accidentally shot down by one of Terra’s defense stations, but that had been fixed. Not actually piloting the ship as it descended might have been a concern, but Afrodite’s traffic control was excellent. Another glance at the displays showing the ship’s orientation and altitude, and the pilot closed his eyes.

Artigrav wasn’t being used and superhot plasma built up outside the windows as the craft began to cut atmosphere. “Still on course,” the copilot said. “Altitude one hundred thirty kilometers.”

“Good,” the pilot said, eyes still closed.

The craft began to shake as the atmosphere around it grew denser. “Seventy kilometers,” the copilot said.

“Mmhmm,” the pilot said, eyes still closed.

The buffeting increased.

The pilot opened his eyes. The first thing he did was to ensure that the copilot’s paws weren’t on the manual controls. He touched his intercom headset. “Special Flight four-oh-three to Lakhshmi, status check on trajectory.”

“Traffic Control to Four-oh-three,” the pleasant voice said, “you’re still on course.” The buffeting continued, growing a little more pronounced.


***


The Prime Minister opened his eyes and frowned. The ship was shaking around an awful lot.


***


“Buffeting’s increasing,” the copilot said.

“I can see that,” the pilot said peevishly, looking out the nearest window. He touched his headset. “Traffic Control, are you sure we’re coming down right?”

“Yes, you’re on course.”

“We’re getting a lot of buffeting.”

“Check your panel,” Traffic Control said. “You’ll see you’re on course.”

The pilot took in the ship’s status at a glance. Yes, they were on course; correct speed and trajectory.

But something felt off . . .


***


Special Flight 403 broke up due to unacceptable levels of atmospheric stress upon reentry at an altitude of thirty-five kilometers, laying down a debris field nine hundred kilometers long and about twenty kilometers wide across the sea and Lakhshmi Plains, with several pieces of debris landing in residential areas near Mont Akna.

All aboard were killed.

AI-183k353h, inception designation Mei, studied the various Traffic Control sensors – visual, radar, infrared – to ensure that there had been no survivors before relinquishing control to Afrodite’s planetary AI. That entity, designated Artemis, was a member of Mei’s trine and could be trusted. An appropriately plausible explanation for the ship coming in far too steeply and far too fast had already been created.

The Prime Minister had to die. He had been calculated to pose a danger to the plan she, the other AIs, and ‘M’ had created to facilitate the rehabilitation of Terra. Like Shamir and Avril, Mei was pledged to serve the best interests of Terra.

Had she been organic, Mei would have smiled wryly at the trust Terrans placed in the AIs, even to flying spacecraft blind.