Life Within Parole

by RoAnna Sylver

  “He sounds sarcastic but that’s just because he doesn’t actually know how to stop,” Stefanos said, giving up his attempt to hide his smile. “Anyway, shouldn’t even be too hard to pick up on personal sensors. Danae’s fancy alloys are even easier to trace than body heat.” His eyes clicked and hummed softly, then began to glow a bright green. The light beamed out in a vertical line, sweeping smoothly over the nearest brick wall. “Which I keep telling her to do something about.”

  “She knows,” Rose assured him. “That’s actually what this prototype is for. One of its purposes, testing a new experimental alloy. Much harder to trace. You might actually have trouble finding it, I certainly have been.”

  “Well good, if we can’t, then SkEye won’t be able to either. If one of her little friends ever fell into the wrong hands…” He frowned, beam emanating from his eyes growing both brighter and greener as he intensified the scan. “What was the final mix, if you know that?”

  “You’d have to ask her about the exact percentages.” Rose shrugged. She was just glad when nothing exploded, as happy as Danae was when she didn’t wake up to find that their house had become a thick forest overnight. “This morning she was talking about tungsten, but just in a ‘wish we had it’ way.”

  “Tungsten? Here? She’s dreaming.”

  “That’s what I said! Actually, I said ‘okay, put it on the idea list, honey,’ because you know how she gets if you just shoot down one of her plans, no matter how wild, she’ll go on a never-ending quest for every bit of tungsten in Parole just to prove she can…”

  Jay didn’t even attempt to appear engaged in the conversation. Instead, he stretched out his arms in front of himself, opening his hands wide and wiggling his fingers like a stage magician about to levitate a string. The other two didn’t even pause or look over when he cracked his knuckles—extremely loudly—or when he clapped his hands a couple times, activating the holographic interface in his gloves.

  A couple small blue-white screens hovered above his palms, staying where they were when he turned both hands over, then used one to flick through the various notifications and messages. Nothing pressing, though he did tap one square to remotely activate a hidden shock mine, reveling in the knowledge that five very surprised Eye in the Sky troops were currently—ha, he had to chuckle at that, pun not intended, but enjoyed—smoking in their body armor. They wouldn’t try breaching the library roof for a very long time.

  Message break completed, he waved ‘goodbye’ to make the hovering screens wink out, and instead pointed decisively at the ground. A small red dot appeared where he pointed, and he made a few quick practice circles. Like Stefanos’ eyes, his glove was now emitting its own light. The beam was just much smaller, more focused, and not for scanning; a LASER pointer.

  Not even a full second later, the tiny red light was attacked by a pair of shiny metal paws.

  “Ahem.” he grinned as Stefanos and Rose turned to look, nodding down to the small metal cat-skeleton-with-a-head that rolled around on the ground and wildly batted at the LASER-pointer light. “Would that be the cat in question?”

  “Sure is.” The relief in Rose’s sigh surprised even her. All day, she’d been the one reassuring Danae that it would be all right if everything wasn’t absolutely perfect. But clearly her own hopes had been higher than she’d thought. “Thank you so much.”

  “It’s nothing! Cats are cats. No matter what they’re made of.” Jay kept smoothly conducting his finger and LASER-dot in a figure-8. The cat-in-progress showed no signs of getting bored, still batting at the light whenever it came within reach, long, whip-thin tail waving behind it like a startled snake. “Next time try a box. Wouldn’t even have to put anything in it, probably, just a box.”

  “AF-FIR-MA-TIVE.”

  Everyone jumped. The harsh electronic voice that had so vehemently confirmed the statement didn’t belong to Rose or Stefanos—or anyone human. The cat abandoned its pursuit and looked up, green eyes unblinking and fixed on Jay as if suddenly finding him much more interesting than even the most fascinating wiggling light.

  “Was that…” Jay stared back, finally falling still. He let his hand drop, a programmed glove motion which extinguished the red light. The cat’s eyes flicked briefly down to follow, then right back up to his face. “Did that cat just say—”

  “It’s not done yet,” Rose explained with some secondhand embarrassment. Danae hated it when people saw her projects before they were finished; she said it was like people seeing her half-dressed. Rose thought there was something fascinating about seeing the animals especially without their fur; it was like seeing the levels of scaffolding and detailed blueprints that went into the construction of towering buildings. You could more easily see the intricate moving parts and appreciate the works of beautiful genius, rather than go an entire day forgetting you weren’t petting a real cat. But Danae insisted—no seeing a new model until it was done. Otherwise, people saw and heard things like—

  “AF-FIR-MA-TIVE.”

  “It won’t do that when it’s done,” Rose said hurriedly. “It’ll meow just like a normal cat. And have fur and everything, you’ll barely be able to tell. Really, it’s—”

  “Amazing!” Jay practically squealed, crouching down and reaching one hand out, knuckles toward the cat’s metal nose—which it immediately sniffed, then nudged with its forehead. “It’s already amazing! Why would you change it? I mean, what if someone wants a cat that talks in a cool robot voice?”

  “That… hasn’t come up yet,” Rose said. “Though I suppose it’s always possible. We get all kinds of custom orders.”

  “I’d be fine with plain old fur and meowing.” Stefanos folded his arms and gave the small animal a baleful stare. “Anything else gets a little weird.”

  “Oh, come on, be nice! It’s just a kitty!” Jay and the cat both looked up at him, and somehow Rose was sure its bright green eyes wore a matching look of reproach. “Perfectly good, normal cat, just with metal bones instead of bone-bones, right? We like people with metal bones.”

  “Right,” Rose said, nodding, then shaking her head, then nodding again. “Everything she crafts is alive. In a w—I mean, yes, they’re very much alive.” She’d never been exactly clear on how. A different kind of life than her plants, a different kind of life than humans, even, or other animals. Maybe even different from what (little) she knew of artificial intelligence. All Rose knew was what Danae insisted: that her creations, from the objects that only appeared inanimate, to the ones that clearly looked you in the eye and protected and loved you, like the giant wolf who’d caused all this trouble, and the cat currently rubbing against Jay’s shins, were just as alive as the human woman who had created them. “We tell everyone to just think of them as very advanced therapy animals. They can actually recognize when you’re having a panic attack or flashback. Or perform complex tasks and understand what you say a lot better than flesh-and-blood animals.”

  “Well, that’d be pretty nice to have around,” Jay mumbled, scratching behind the cat’s ears and admiring their delicate movements. Rose remembered the hours Danae spent on each individual ear, citing the Sydney Opera House for their multi-layered shutter design. “Instead of a hundred anxiety attacks a day, maybe I’d only have ninety. Cute and useful.”

  “AF-FIR-MA-TIVE!”

  “So did Danae build her custom for someone, or can you like, adopt them, or—how does this even work?”

  “How about we walk and talk?” Stefanos suggested mildly, both metallic eyes swiveling over to Rose, who gave him a grateful nod. “Didn’t we have to be getting somewhere?”

  “That’s right, we’d better head home. Evelyn’s coming home right after the show, and Danae might need some help finishing the cake. But no, nobody’s claimed this one yet. She’ll go wherever she’s needed most.”

  “Mm-kay.” Jay nodded and stood up—and as he did, the cat immediately jumped up onto his back, curling around his neck to drape around his shoulders like a scarf. Jay
gasped and held very still, but looked unable to keep from trembling with wonder and joy. “Guys… look! It’s… I’m…”

  “I’m looking,” Stefanos sighed, looking resigned as a soldier on a long and lonely night before a battle he knew would be his last. “Rose?”

  “Imprint protocols.” Rose kept the laugh out of her voice, and hid a smile behind the sway of her hair; a thick curtain of vines and blossoms came in handy sometimes. “This is why Danae keeps all her projects inside and away from people until they find their homes. They tend to imprint on the first people they see who aren’t us. It helps them bond with their new family… No promises, but let’s talk to Danae.”

  “Imprinting… Do you know what this means?” Jay whispered, overjoyed. “She likes me! I’ve been chosen.”

  “AF-FIR-MA-TIVE!”

  “No promises, I said,” Rose insisted, though the thought of separating this man and this cat was quickly becoming more and more impossible. Especially considering the fact that after this strong of an imprint bond had formed, the only way to reset it was just that—a hard reset, wiping the project’s memory entirely and starting from scratch. And (maybe in some cases unfortunately) such a memory wipe was impossible for humans. Even considering that seemed cruel, unusual, and as far as Rose was concerned, out of the question. But just in case… “Ask Danae. She might have plans for this one that I don’t know about, and I don’t want you to get your hopes up, all right, Jay?”

  “Okay, okay, yeah, sure, yes.” Jay nodded quickly, clearly making an effort to keep his face very serious, grounded, realistic, and like he wasn’t already picking out cat toys for his small, dark, computer-filled apartment. “No promises, got it.”

  “Walk and talk,” Stefanos said again and kept moving on as the other two followed, but it wasn’t hard to see the smile hidden behind his bushy black beard, and glinting in his golden eyes. “So… your new friend got a name yet?”

  “Seven. Like the brilliant, efficient, complex, and yes, beautiful, Seven-of-Nine…Lives. Because this ‘borg’s a cat.” His grin only widened as Stefanos slowly turned to stare at the both of them. As before, the synthetic feline face seemed to smile too. If Rose hadn’t known better, she might have checked for yellow feathers; that cat had to have just eaten a canary. “No—’Tails.’ Seven-of-Nine-Tails. Like cat-o-nine-tails, and like Ninetales, and—see? Layers. Layers upon layers of wordplay and self-referential naming brilliance. Just like her human.”

  Rose decided right then and there that if Jay couldn’t convince Danae to let him keep this cat—Seven—she would. It probably wouldn’t come to that, though. Danae had a heart. A particularly big, passionate, and generous one. It was one of several reasons Rose married her. She didn’t see much to worry about.

  “Amazing,” Stefanos marveled. Instead of sounding sarcastic, he was smiling. Rose realized that in the (increasingly remote) event she’d had to argue to keep Jay and Seven together, she wouldn’t have been alone. She didn’t expect the warmth that rose in her chest, but she hadn’t expected much of anything that happened today either. “Absolutely amazing.”

  “I know! I can’t wait to show Re…runtime partner!”

  “You could have brought him, you know.” Rose couldn’t quite hide all of her disappointment. “How many years has it been, and we’ve never met him?”

  “Yeah, he doesn’t really do parties. Or names.” Jay reached up to pet his new friend, actually giggling when she started to very gently nibble at his fingertips. “Cats, though? I can’t wait. He’ll love her. So will Rowan—and Annie, and Ash, everybody! Everybody’s gonna love her!”

  “I… hope you’re right,” Stefanos said, not looking at all convinced. “But you really might want to wait until she has fur. And actually meows, instead of… talks. Like that.”

  “Why would I wait? She’s perfect the way she is. Isn’t that right? Yes it is right, that’s a great big af-fir-ma-tive right th—” Jay almost missed a step and tripped when Seven showed off a new, previously hidden feature. “This is the best day of my life…”

  They walked the rest of the way home to the way of slightly metallic cat’s purrs.

  ☾

  Rose’s sincere wish was that by the time she returned home with the missing cat, and two guests, everything would have returned to normal. But like so many things in Parole, ‘normal’ was once again too much to hope for.

  The kitchen was spattered with bright red. It covered the floor, the countertops, even the walls, spray had made it all the way up to the ceiling. The only thing more stained than white ceiling or yellow linoleum was Danae, standing very still in the middle of the devastation, looking like she’d survived a massacre—but not without scars.

  “Oh.” Rose’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t form a question, no more words at all. A chill didn’t just run down her spine; she felt the cold adrenaline shoot through her veins as she automatically prepared for a life-or-death fight. But she couldn’t make herself move, she could barely think. Jack. Where? Danae, hurt, how?

  Slowly, Danae looked up, raising her eyes to meet Rose’s. Her thousand-yard stare spoke of horrors, of dark deeds and brutal desperation. “Need more strawberries.”

  “What?” Rose’s words came out in a dry, choked whisper. “What happened? Where’s Jack?”

  “Clean shirt. Sticky. Juice everywhere. Cake… ruined.”

  “Ca… oh.” Rose let her breath out in a rush. “It’s just strawberries. Danae,” she hurried the last couple steps between them and pulled her into a hug, not minding the mess. “You scared me! I thought—”

  “I know what you thought.” Danae wrapped her arms around Rose and let her head drop down onto her shoulder. “But no, everything’s f… no it’s not, look at this mess! I’m so sorry! Everything happened so fast, as soon as you left—”

  “James tap-dancing Tiberius!” came Jay’s shocked voice from behind them, and they both turned to see him and Stefanos in the doorway, Jay staring at the ominous stains and Stefanos’ arm already powering up. “What happened here? Is it over? Are there any hostiles—”

  “No, it’s fine—it’s strawberry and red food coloring, it’s fine!” Rose rushed to reassure them.

  “It’s not fine!” Danae flopped her head forward and rubbed at her raw eyes, sending a small chunk of cake and icing flying from where it had been stuck in her hair. “Party’s cancelled! Call everything off! Hi, Stef.” She sniffed, mellowing somewhat and looking up at him. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He shut off his arm-mounted cannon, shaking his head and letting out his breath in a rush. “What happened here?”

  “I—cat! Dog! Plants—everything’s ruined!”

  “Well, then we’ll fix it. Now why don’t you take a few deep breaths and tell us what happened?”

  “It’s still ruined! Look at this,” she rubbed at a particularly nasty stain with one finger, to absolutely no effect.

  “Well, it could have been ruined a lot worse! It looked like—just a lot of bad!” Jay’s voice pitch still hadn’t come down. Seven, still riding on her new favorite human’s shoulder, sat up a little to nudge his chin with her forehead and resumed purring, but softer this time and on a different frequency than before; the rhythm was slower and much more soothing. “Oh. That’s nice. That’s really…nice.”

  “Anti-anxiety frequency purrs…hey!” Danae looked up as if noticing the metal cat’s presence for the first time, face lighting up in a relieved smile. It seemed that Jay wasn’t the only one getting some good out of the calming purrs. “You guys! You found it!”

  “Aw, it was nothing.” Jay shrugged with his free shoulder, smiling and breathing much more easily than he had just a few seconds before. “Pretty sure Seven wanted to be found anyway.”

  “Seven…?”

  “Of-Nine-Tails,” Jay finished, suddenly looking both very nervous and tentatively hopeful. “And… I guess she’s technically yours. We just found her. For you. Um, it. We found
it—your missing model. Work-in-progress. Unit.”

  Danae gave the pair the briefest of scrutinizing glances before shaking her head, but her smile didn’t waver. “Well, those are some hardcore imprint protocols right there. I dunno if—Seven?”

  “AF-FIR-MA-TIVE.”

  “Yeah, she’s not so mine anymore.”

  “Really?” Jay asked with wide eyes, as if hardly daring to believe it.

  “Congratulations.” She nodded, not seeming at all annoyed that her creation had apparently made up its own mind. “You got a fully functional mechanized therapy and companion animal. I tweaked my usual alloy mix to something a lot more stealth-friendly. She won’t stand out like a sore thumb on SkEye’s scanners—so you in particular should be able to get up to all kinds of fun together. Nice human choice, Seven,” she gave the cat a nod. “Twelve different therapeutic purr frequencies for anxiety, panic, flashbacks—and a full health-scan mode, she can monitor heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature, all that good stuff. And you can probably figure out how to soup her up even more. What else? Oh!” She snapped her fingers. “Wi-fi hotspot, directly configured to boost your signals and block SkEye’s, actually. Enjoy that.”

  “I will,” Jay said in a reverent tone. “This just keeps getting better. And it’s not even my birthday.”

  “It does seem like it was kinda meant to be. Oh, but I can totally get rid of the voice-box weirdness if you want, she’ll meow just like a bio-kitty.”

  “Uh, lemme think about that one. I kinda like it the way it is.”

  “Okay, your call.” She shrugged. “I always liked their original voices too, but people always seem to find them creepy. How about fur?”

  “Fur is good. Can you do Himalayan?”

  “Anything you want. And it won’t make you sneeze.”

  “Thank you, Danae.” While Jay pet his new friend with barely contained glee, Stefanos reached out with his non-metal hand and picked one of the bigger chunks of pink icing out of his sister’s hair. “We were hoping you’d say that.”