Darkness Rising

by C. Gockel

  “Yep, deactivated until the trial date,” said the security officer. “And then returned to their rightful owners, ma’am.”

  “I can’t be deactivated!” said BOY4. “My family is coming for me.”

  The security officer looked at Carl and gave him a scratch. And then his eyes returned to Volka’s. “The adolescent ‘bot—er, android with the Q-comm will be returned to his human family. They’re in the berth just outside waiting for him, ma’am.”

  Bowing so she was at eye level with BOY4, Volka said, “They’re here.”

  “Ma’am,” said the security guard.

  Volka straightened and her ears perked forward.

  “I’ve got to move on,” the security guard continued, “but just want to say, my wife loves ears like yours, and would love a pair just like them.”

  “Oh…thank you?” she replied.

  The security officer waved a hand and walked off. He hadn’t met 6T9’s or BOY4’s eyes once. On Volka’s homeworld, Sixty had been mistaken for human, and he had been the one people noticed. Ironic he was treated more like a human on a world that believed intelligent machines were evil. The man had paid more attention to Carl than to him.

  Out of the blue, FET12, the badly damaged fetish ‘bot designed to appear no older than twelve said, “Captain McNamara was my owner.”

  Volka, BOY4, and 6T9 turned to FET12. His semi-nakedness had been disturbing, and 6T9 had found a trench coat to throw over the ‘bot’s torso. A core part of 6T9’s programming was a revulsion toward sexual acts with minors, but he found himself revolted by the scars as well. There was a Luddeccean expression, “There but by the grace of God go I.” 6T9 didn’t believe in God, but he understood the sentiment looking at FET12. If he had an owner different than Eliza, he could be an adult version of the beaten machine. The ‘bot was in such bad shape, 6T9 doubted he could even be resold. He’d most likely be recycled for parts.

  “Captain McNamara is dead now,” FET12 noted.

  Volka turned to 6T9, ears perked. Her pupils were smaller than a human’s would be in similar light, and the yellow of her irises was made more striking by the natural kohl-like pigmentation around her eyes. At the moment, her eyes were exceptionally wide. “What will happen to him, Sixty?”

  On her shoulders, Carl stirred. “Yes, what will happen?”

  “He’s doesn’t have a Q-comm,” Sixty said. “He—”

  “What will happen to him, Android General 1?” BOY4 whined, tugging at 6T9’s pant leg, eyes as large as Volka’s.

  To Volka and Carl, 6T9 said, “We’ll discuss this later.”

  Carl’s whiskers twitched. “The thing has led less of a life than the last rat I had for lunch.”

  Volka’s lips parted in a look of dismay. She’d obviously caught the meaning behind 6T9’s “we’ll talk later” evasion. “Can we keep him?” she asked.

  6T9’s circuits sparked. Now that she knew he had emotions, she treated every machine as though it did. He wasn’t sure if he found it endearing or disturbing. A ‘bot with a Q-comm was different.

  “Yes, can we keep him?” said Carl. “He could be handy to have about.”

  “That ‘bot doesn’t want to stay with us,” 6T9 said. “He is…” He looked at BOY4, remembered how humans didn’t like any aspect of sex openly discussed around children and said, “…what he is. FET12 won’t want to be somewhere without human company.” Despite the abuse it had suffered, it would crave human intimacy.

  Volka’s ears curled down in what the ethernet told Sixty was a wolfish expression of submission. “Are you sure?”

  Exasperated, 6T9 said to FET12, “Would you like to come with us after the trial? The only job we’ll have for you is clearing underbrush from a forest.”

  “It really needs to go,” Carl commented. “It’s a fire hazard.”

  “Would I be burned or scarred?” asked FET12. He held up hands crisscrossed by lesions. “It goes against my programming to be in such disrepair.”

  “You might get small scratches in the forest,” Volka replied, ears still curled.

  “I can repair small scratches,” FET12 responded. He nodded. “I would be happy to perform such a function.”

  6T9’s jaw fell. A sex ‘bot that would rather clear underbrush—a lonely, dirty job—than have sex?

  Volka beamed. “We’ll come and get you when the trial is over, then.” Putting her hand on 6T9’s arm, she said, “Inform security that he’s ours and that if they mistreat him or abuse him between now and the trial we’ll…we’ll…sic Lauren G3 on them. Sic her on them anyway!”

  Lauren G3 was a law ‘bot. The dour ‘bot was, in 6T9’s estimation, a viable threat.

  “Sixty?” Volka said.

  “Fine,” 6T9 said, still troubled by how readily FET12 accepted the offer. He sent an ethernet note to Lauren G3 informing her of the situation, and then said, “Let’s take BOY4 to his family.”

  “Goodbye!” Volka and BOY4 said to FET12 as 6T9 led them away.

  FET12 waved. “Thank you, Android General 1,” he said.

  6T9 tried to correct him. “That’s not my na—”

  But FET12 had already shut down.

  Less than 122 seconds later, BOY4 and his “parents” and “brother” were reunited.

  “Bobby!” cried the Laghari family, a man, woman, and a boy who couldn’t be more than six at sight of BOY4. 6T9 had downloaded all public information from them. The parents both had doctorates. The boy was in gifted programs.

  “I don’t remember you very well,” BOY4 said, releasing Volka’s hand. “Bobby’s my name…isn’t it?”

  The mother, a doctor of cybernetics, crouched beside him. “Yes, Bobby, yes,” she murmured, stroking his cheek.

  The human boy said, “I’m your brother…you didn’t forget me, did you?”

  The father, a computer scientist and psychologist, said, “Don’t worry, Bobby. I backed you up right before you disappeared.”

  “You went outside to play ball and didn’t come home,” declared his brother.

  “We were so worried,” the mother said.

  “A full backup,” BOY4—or Bobby—whispered. He gazed up at the man. “Thank you, Father.” He looked at the human boy. “You’re Jay, right?”

  The boy nodded.

  Bobby leaned his forehead against his adopted mother’s. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

  “Mother, I want to go home,” he said. His human mother swept him up into her arms and pulled him close, and stood with him in her arms. Only then did the small family come over to Volka, Carl, and 6T9.

  All of them looked 6T9 in the eyes when they thanked them. Their own eyes were red with tears, and Volka cried, too.

  When they finally left, Volka murmured, “They’re all human.”

  Watching the family depart, 6T9 said, “Some machines haven’t adjusted to sentience as well as me.” In actuality, in the opinion of the time gates and most of the androids, 6T9 had taken to sentience so poorly that no new sex ‘bots had been given the honor of a Q-comm chip. In Volka’s arms, Carl sniffed at the joke, but Volka just nodded earnestly. 6T9’s Q-comm, humming along until that moment, briefly went offline.

  Recovering, 6T9 said, “Some of the gates thought that allowing an android to go through all the stages of human development with human mentorship might allow our kind to be more stable. The Langharis wanted to adopt. Time Gate 4 put forward that unit.”

  “Do you have to be someone special to adopt an android child?” Volka asked.

  “I suppose you do,” 6T9 responded, thinking of the couple’s combined curriculum vitae.

  Volka’s shoulders fell. “I suppose you would. Let’s go home, Sixty.”

  Sixty’s eyes slid to Volka. Once the asteroid had seemed like a prison to him, but with her, Carl, and Sundancer there, the word “home” fit. “Let’s go,” he agreed.

  They approached the airlock doors that led from the pirate ship’s berth. A group of security officers stood there, shoulder to shou
lder, backs to them. It was only when they were nearly to the door that 6T9 realized that they were guarding the captured pirates. Hands pinned behind them, ankles bound together, they were sitting with their backs to the wall. Spitting at 6T9’s feet, the general hissed, “You killed Katie, Worm. I’ll make you pay for it!” His eyes were red-rimmed and there were bruises on his cheeks.

  “I am programmed not to kill,” 6T9 said—or rather, his old, “dumb” sex ‘bot programming said before his Q-comm had formulated an appropriate response.

  Volka growled. “I killed her.”

  Carl Sagan squeaked, and the ether-to-speech necklace 6T9 had devised for him crackled. “And I would have if I’d had the chance.”

  The general’s eyes didn’t leave 6T9’s. “You’ll pay, Worm. You’ll pay.”

  One of Copernicus’ Security knocked him none too gently with a baton, but the general only smiled, his eyes locked on 6T9.

  The airlock door to the berth whooshed open. 6T9 stepped through, almost breathed a sigh of relief, and then he turned toward the cargo port exit. His ether started pinging like mad with unidentified channels, and humans wearing press badges, packed just past a line of electric security tape, started shouting.

  “6T9!”

  “Volka!”

  “Is that the sentient space weasel?”

  When 6T9 had returned to Republic space with Carl, Sundancer, and Volka, they’d all briefly been celebrities, but then Venus de Willendorf had gotten engaged. It seemed, however, they were going to experience another seven minutes of fame.

  Volka gripped 6T9’s arm in a death grip. Carl’s necklace hissed, “I’m out of here,” and the creature slithered into Volka’s backpack.

  Putting his hand on top of Volka’s, 6T9 led her to the throng, whispering, “Sooner we get through this, sooner we get home.”

  She nodded, ears flat back.

  They reached the electrical tape, security let them through, and mics and human reporters leaned in.

  “Was this a secret government sting operation?” a man asked 6T9. He felt someone else’s hand goose him, because of course, he was still a sex ‘bot. Normally, he liked that sort of thing, but he wanted to get home.

  “How did you know the rendezvous for the ring would be asteroid S7O7.15432?” a man asked, pressing a mic to Volka’s lips.

  “It was set as the destination in the ship’s log,” 6T9 answered. He’d seen it when he’d gained control of the ship as Android_General1 and sent it to the authorities. Instead of the Copperhead arriving, System 7’s Local Guard had arrived.

  “Did you hack into the ship’s ether?” someone else asked him, putting a hand over her neural interface.

  6T9 tried to respond. “No, I—”

  A man pressed himself from the crowd and shouted in his face. “Were you aware that the Copperhead was taking you to the heart of a kidnapping ring?”

  No mention of android napping? 6T9 accessed the news on the public ether—ah, yes, the Copperhead’s crew weren’t just trading in androids. Five humans had been rescued at the Copperhead’s destination. No numbers on the androids.

  “We…no…” stammered Volka.

  “Did you know any of the five humans who were recovered?” someone else shouted.

  6T9 shook his head.

  Another man pressed a mic forward. “How does it feel to be heroes again after just a few short we—”

  All the shouting stopped.

  The eyes of the reporter just in front of them went wide. He threw his hand to his ether port, turned, and started running back through the crowd. All the other reporters started scrambling away, too, pushing and shoving each other to get out of the cargo port.

  “What’s happening?” Volka whispered.

  6T9’s mind flew to the local news again. “Venus De Willendorf has just arrived in Copernicus City…only now her name is Venus De Rubens. She has transformed her body to look like the painting Venus in Fur-Coat by Peter Paul Rubens.”

  “That is more important than a kidnapping and android napping ring?” Volka asked.

  “It will probably get them more ethernet traffic,” 6T9 confessed.

  “I don’t understand,” Volka said.

  6T9 had some memories of Luddeccean news after the disablement of Luddeccea’s ethernet. It had been delivered via paper, radio, and television, and had been…well, slow would be the word for it. Problems with the drainage system in Prime’s southwest corner had been headlines for weeks. “News in the Galactic Republic changes fast,” 6T9 explained.

  “Oh—”

  The last of the reporters cleared away and two new figures ran forward. 6T9 blinked and grinned, recognizing Celeste and Bart.

  “6T9!” they cried.

  6T9 broke away from Volka. Not everything on Copernicus had gone poorly.

  “Hey, you two!” 6T9 shouted, holding out his arms. The afternoon before his android-napping, he had engaged in what might have been the most satisfying sex since Eliza. Bart and Celeste had treated him like they were honored by his company, not like he was the last resort, an experiment, or a square on a sexual bingo card to scratch off.

  “We were so worried about you,” Celeste said, catching him in a hug. 6T9 gratefully hugged her back. She was soft around the middle and delightful to squeeze.

  Bart thumped him on the back. “Glad to see you back!”

  “It’s good to be back,” replied 6T9, smiling ear to ear.

  “It all sounded so terrible!” Celeste said. “Do you want to stay for a while? Get your bearings? Your friends, too?” She gave Volka a timid smile.

  “After that adventure, I’d need a beer!” Bart said, smacking his impressive gut.

  Beer was high in calories. 6T9 almost said yes, but then he looked over Bart’s shoulder and noticed Volka’s left nostril was twitching. Repeatedly. She probably was anxious to get home. She’d been in more danger aboard the Copperhead than he. He could have uploaded himself or turned on his masochism app if the worst had happened. She’d had no such escape. “I would love to, but we’re heading back to our asteroid now. We’ve got to…” Volka’s eyes narrowed. “...to take care of some underbrush before it catches on fire.”

  Volka’s eyes narrowed further.

  By the ped elevator, Volka stood back as Sixty hugged Celeste. Again.

  Volka crossed her arms to restrain them. She felt her nostril flaring spasmodically, but she didn’t grab her business partner by the throat and shake him mercilessly, as he so obviously deserved. Nor did she grab Carl Sagan as he hopped into Celeste’s arms, rolled onto his back, and let the unfaithful woman rub his belly while purring madly.

  When Sixty hugged Bart, Volka’s face crumpled and she even felt tears threaten to come. She hadn’t thought of crying once aboard the Copperhead, but Sixty wasn’t just one of her only friends in the Galactic Republic; he had shown himself to be one of her best friends, ever. However, watching him lie so smoothly and cheerfully to his friend Bart whom he’d just cuckolded made her wonder if she’d just imagined their friendship. Her brow furrowed. But that didn’t make sense. Sixty had also shown friendship in all the ways that mattered.

  As soon as Sixty, Carl on his shoulder, and Volka were alone in the ped elevator behind closed doors, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Putting her hands on her hips, she glared up at Sixty, her nostril twitching. “You had sex with Celeste!”

  Sixty blinked. “Oh, well, yes.” Putting a hand to his chest, he smiled, and his focus became distant as though he was in a happy dream. “It was a great tune-up.”

  Volka huffed. “She. Is. Married. To. Bart. Who sees you as a friend!”

  Sixty’s eyes slid to the side and back to her. “And…” He squinted at her as though he was genuinely confused as to why that might be an issue.

  “You betrayed your friend!” Volka cried.

  Laughing, 6T9 said, “No, I didn’t! Bart knew about it, approved, and even watched.”

  Volka’s eyes went wide.

  Shrugging,
6T9 said, “It was his fantasy to be cuckolded.”

  Volka’s heart sank, though she couldn’t say why. No, she could say. It was just…unhealthy…to be in a love triangle. She’d seen it time and again between human men and their weere mistresses. It poisoned human marriages and weere hearts. How could Sixty do such a thing? She swallowed, understanding exactly how it must have happened. “Sixty, I thought we agreed you wouldn’t have sex for money anymore.”

  Smile melting, Sixty leaned toward her, and his voice became low and threatening. “We didn’t agree to that…I chose not to have sex for money of my own volition because…” He blinked again and pulled back as though confused, and then he leaned forward again and hissed, “Do you think Bart and Celeste could afford me?”

  Volka’s lips parted in shock, and then she thought of Bart and Celeste’s tiny quarters and their unaugmented middle-aged looks. Sixty looked like a Greek god next to them. Actually, he always looked like a Greek god.

  “They couldn’t in a hundred years,” 6T9 said. “And it was the most satisfying sex I’ve had in since…since…” Shaking his head, he frowned. “I have only one regret.”

  Volka’s jaw snapped shut. He’d been a sex ‘bot his whole life, and she wasn’t even sure exactly how long that was. Old habits were hard to break.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Sixty sighed. “My only regret was I couldn’t get Bart to join in.”

  Volka’s eyes got wide. She felt herself crumple. “You…” How could Sixty, who let her sleep without molesting her, and who had been nothing but a gentleman toward her—well, except for that hardware malfunction that was unintentional—have sex with multiple people at once with no regard to the sanctity of marriage, or their gender? Even Mr. Darmadi had the decency to stick to men, and not confound a woman by marrying her and then abandoning her after marriage for gentlemen “friends.” Shaking her head, she blurted, “You’re worse than human.”

  6T9’s frame went rigid. “Have you considered…you’re worse than human, Ms. Monogamy?” He rolled his eyes. “You’re probably still mooning over Alaric, a man who tried to destroy me and kill you.”