Vagabond Souls: The Ionia Chronicles: Book 2

by Pamela Stewart

  From his assessment, she had not been created for military purposes but had been a basic companion droid like him. But she had used such ingenuity and creativity, he almost doubted his scans. She was indeed 100 percent reinforced steel chassis with human skin overlay. He searched the Cortex to find a reason for her extraordinary skills and found news clips of her prowess. But nothing deeper. No background information available. She was a puzzle to his processor. He subverted the impulse to review the fight again and followed Ionia’s family.

  He passed into the foyer. His scan registered six rooms filled with four humans, the two female children from the airport, a teen boy, and a male adult. No conventional weapons were immediately available, and all vital signals within the norm. The unknown male did have high blood pressure for a person of his height and weight but seemed to be a danger only to himself.

  The young girls sprinted to the door and wrapped themselves around Ionia. Her face brightened, and she smiled for the first time in hours. His emotions rose with the sight. Seeing her pleased always gave him a blast of positive ions.

  “Cousin,” one of the female children asked. “Come play with us. I want to show you my room.”

  “No. I want to show you our room,” the younger of the two interjected. “Come on!” They both grasped a hand, and they pulled her down the hallway in a northerly direction.

  She left Den standing with the maternal aunt and the paternal unit, holding the luggage in both hands. He reviewed a layout of the complex, noting exits.

  The décor of the main hall and living area was unpredictable and jarring, much like the market. Hi-frequency colors with intricate designs draped the walls. The furniture was an eclectic mix of traditional and modern.

  “I loved your room,” Ionia said to the kids. “But I need to greet your father. I’ll play later. Promise.” Ionia reappeared and turned toward the open kitchen area that attached to the general living area.

  The unknown male stood before the cutting board with a cleaver in hand. The home smelled of cooking cauliflower and an enormous amount of spice. Cumin, coriander, and cayenne featured.

  The male’s face spread into a wide smile. “Welcome, come in. Come in. Oh. You brought a droid.” The smile faltered, but only enough so that his droid senses would note. He too had an issue with Den’s kind. A large percentage of humans in this vicinity had strongly negative feelings concerning any kind of non-organic life.

  He didn’t enjoy the sensation of being ostracized, but it didn’t matter what this man thought of him, or the authorities—all that mattered was what Ionia thought.

  “Of course you all are welcome here. I’m a supporter of the Modified Android Rights Act,” he spoke more to Anabel and Ionia than to Den. Which was fine. He preferred to stay out of human interactions as much as possible, especially humans who did not value his being.

  He placed the cleaver down, wiped his hands, and joined them in the foyer. “Good to see you again Ana. And Ionia! Look at you, all grown up.”

  Ionia nodded and smiled, but his connection to her indicated that her blood sugar had dipped since the small meal at the restaurant. Her vitals weakened. She needed rest after a long day of travel and the simulated attack. Den watched for an opening to extract her to a place to rest.

  “We’ll take over for you, Baran. Relax.” Serafina entered the kitchen and joined the chopping. Ionia’s mother followed.

  “Come sit, niece, and tell us about the frozen South.” He patted the seat next to him and the two prepubescent children. “The girls think it’s quite exotic.”

  Ionia sighed and dropped onto one of the ornate magentas, specifically #FF00FF, and looked up at her mother. “Can I take off this jacket now?”

  Her mother and aunt had found a corner in the kitchen and were consulting each other.

  “Yes, of course. We are safe here,” the aunt shouted.

  Strange choice of words. How could a jacket be the difference between safety and danger? The outerwear had a fine interwoven metallic underlay, but overall, its main purpose was to defend against the weather and mild impacts.

  Den had detected no safety issues, so the aunt’s statement set his sensors on edge. He aimed his audio at them.

  “Tell her,” the aunt whispered.

  “I will not. Not unless there are no other options. She’s going to be fine. Isn’t that what you assured me?”

  “She will. Look at her. She’s alive. Healthy.”

  “For now.”

  All this said so that no one could detect what they were discussing. It was almost as if they were speaking in code. He returned his full attention to Ionia but scanned their discussion periodically. This was the second occurrence of unusual dialogue. He would have to keep a close monitor on their words and behavior.

  Ionia told an animated story about her childhood and running from a bull seal. The children seemed enraptured, but all Den could do was review the number of ways she could have ceased to exist before she had even activated him. Anxiety sparked from his emotional chip. So many chances that he could have lost her. He breathed a sigh and let his chip return to normal, he was with her now. And she was safe.

  He examined this moment, Ionia smiling, relaxed and safe. This was his definition of satisfaction, and he would do anything to maintain this level of contentment. And no one, human or droid, relation or stranger, would stand between him and Ionia’s happiness.

  ***

  Aunt Sera stood at the kitchen counter which opened into a wide, comfortable living area. Not a huge place for a doctor and politician in CONUS, but for the number of people in the territory, this was palatial. Her mom joined her aunt, and they continued chopping a myriad of brightly colored vegetables. Ionia couldn’t even name them all, but they looked delicious.

  Ebony black hair streaming behind them, Maja and Aleea dashed by playing “bull seal attack.” Ionia didn’t know how they moved so fast without smashing a body part against a table or a wall. It was like they were part minx.

  Aunt Sera kept hacking cauliflower in the kitchen, seemingly oblivious to their mini riot. Her mom stood next to Sera, shooting evil eye darts at the girls, who could not have cared less.

  Had she ever had that much energy? She wasn’t exactly old, but she couldn’t have kept up with them. They were live wires. She couldn’t remember a time she’d been allowed to run around the house untethered.

  Finally, Aunt Sera looked up. Her mouth twitched with a barely concealed smile. “Girls! Enclass work, now.”

  They froze as if they were one creature and changed paths, circling back to their mother, their mouths hanging open. “But mom, we’re having fun!” Maja said. Aleea, the younger of the two, nodded.

  “You heard me.” Her aunt’s voice held none of the dictatorial tone Ionia had grown up with, instead her voice was firm yet cajoling.

  “Five minutes?” Maja’s eyebrows arched. Her eyes rounded as she placed her palms together into a prayer pose that Aleea quickly mimicked.

  “Fine. Five minutes, then to work.” The smile in her aunt’s voice finally spread to her face.

  The kids sprang at her, wrapping their arms around her waist and thighs.

  “Five minutes isn’t long,” Sera said, suppressing another smile. They sprinted off together giggling.

  Her mom’s eyebrows lowered, and her mouth set. Ionia couldn’t tell if her expression said disdain or regret. A small pang of pain strummed through her like a machete cutting into her heart. If only her mom could have been calm and fun and understanding.

  Her mother looked up at Ionia as if she could hear her thoughts. “Ionia. Help with the dinner preparations.”

  She didn’t want to help. After all the stress, her muscles felt deflated and her eyelids weighted. “I’m not really feeling well. I would just like to get some rest.”

  “May I assist with the preparations so Ionia can retire?” Den stepped between them. Her defender as always. Knowing exactly what she needed. “She has had an extreme amount of s
tress today.”

  “No,” Uncle Hebbar snapped, so much so the kids looked up from their game. “He can help with the luggage.”

  A weird, uncomfortable tightness permeated the air. Everyone paused and stared. Everyone but Ravi who stared at his virtual console as if nothing had happened.

  “Girls, go to your room and play.” Sera turned to Ionia. “Ask the droid to take care of the luggage. Please.”

  The girls read their mom’s serious face and complied. The stress in the air transferred to Ionia. “Den, would you take our bags upstairs?”

  He paused, glancing at her family then back at her, eyebrows up. She understood his unspoken message. He wanted to know if she needed help, but he was finally getting some of the subtle art of human interaction. Which was both good and bad. Humans were not always the best things to emulate.

  She nodded for him to continue, and he moved to the foyer, picked up the luggage, and climbed the narrow stairs to the next floor.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll help.” She had just been fantasizing about having a family like this. Maybe it wasn’t quite like the picture on the brochure.

  “No, I just wanted to speak to you and your mother and set some standards,” Uncle Baran said. “I don’t know what your mother allows to go on in your household, but there will be no companion droid staying in the same room as my niece under my roof.”

  Ravi, who had been lost in a 4D holo game since they had arrived, finally looked up with interest.

  Ionia felt like someone had flipped on a giant overhead spotlight, and she was standing naked on stage. What was he even saying? Why was it any of his business?

  “Hebbar, you could have approached this differently,” Sera said. “You can’t just order my family about. I’m sure they will abide by your rules.”

  Her mom had the look of a volcano on the cusp of erupting. Ionia could almost see the black smoke coming out of her ears. “If I wanted to be lectured, I would have stayed in my parents’ home.”

  Sera put a hand on her mom’s shoulder, but her mom shook it off. Ionia had to step in before this became a second Continental War.

  “Den can stay in a common area. But he’s just my friend. There was no need to worry.” Den was more than that to her. He was a piece of her soul, but it wouldn’t help her to admit that to this judgmental jerk. Agreeing to be separated from him was like sticking skewers under her fingernails.

  Her nerves were frazzled. Had been frazzled ever since the cave, and only Den made her feel calm, collected. Safe. Without him nearby, she would have a hard time sleeping. He never was more than a door away. But to keep the peace, it would be okay for a day or two.

  Den came back down the stairs and waited patiently at the foot, watching.

  Another spear of guilt tagged her in the chest. She felt like an overused pincushion lately. There wasn’t anything she could do against this gaggle of overbearing grownups. She would just have to make it up to him somehow.

  Maybe tonight. Yes. Tonight.

  ***

  After the confrontation, dinner came and went in near silence. At last, Ionia had to comment. “This food is unbelievable.” Her uncle may not be a nice person, but he could make a mean curry.

  “That is good?” His face was hard and impassive like it was carved in sandstone.

  “Yes. That is good.” She tried to smile and make peace. If he thought she was agreeable, it would be easier to do what she had in mind later.

  His face unfurled into a politician’s smile, not quite lighting his eyes, but pleasant. The girls, who had been scraping the remainder of their food around looking crestfallen, began to eat with more vigor.

  “I’m going up. If that’s okay.” She made brief eye contact with her mom who inclined her head. “Just have to talk to Den first.”

  Den had been standing slightly away from the table, like some servant waiting to clear the dishes. She pinned her anger down and met him at the foot of the stairs.

  “I know I am to stay in the common area.” Den didn’t sound upset, but his manners were programmed impeccably. Only very high emotion would break him out of his protocols.

  She smiled a real bright smile, and he returned a controlled muted one. “After lights out, meet me upstairs. And we can just hang out. Just like back at the SPS.”

  “Ionia, you could draw the ire of your uncle.”

  “What he doesn’t know…”

  “What he doesn’t know?” Den’s frown lines deepened, and his head tilted, then he gave her a nod, probably cross-referencing the phrase.

  She wanted to hold his hand. Grab and hug him. Kiss him. Tell him she was sorry they’d ever come here. Instead, she gave him a tiny wave so no one could see and made her way upstairs.

  She didn’t know exactly where she was supposed to go, but there couldn’t be too many rooms in a house this small.

  The room at the top of the stairs was small but neat. It contained a roll out mattress with a brightly colored, thin spread. Her sparknighted bag lay at the foot on the floor. On the door, a holoposter glowed red, No Access crosses drawn over the symbol of the local constables. Had to be Ravi’s because the girls’ room was downstairs. From the look of the décor, Ravi must be a bit of a rebel. A rebellious Patel child. Surprise, surprise. She laughed to herself. She wasn’t the only rule breaker in the family.

  A terrace window that led out to a wide landing was open. White curtains blew inward like billowy capes. She braced herself for the impact of the wind, but the touch was soft and warm. It was weird feeling a breeze and not wishing for a quick death. Not harsh or fist-like or cold, this wind was comforting. The city sparkled and moved outside like a living thing—lights, and colors everywhere. Pretty awesome, but when she looked up, she couldn’t see the stars, and that made her a little sad. One of the pluses to living in the big A was a constant pure, clear view of the sky.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath, close her eyes, and enjoy the moment of peace. ND would hold something other than hatred and heat. There had to be more.

  A waterfall of chills ran down her spine, and bumps rose on her skin. She just hoped the something more was something good.

  Chapter Five

  Den did not enjoy his station at the foot of the stairs. He would have gone into standby mode if his environment was less hostile, or at the minimum, sought a less central location, but he had no method nor desire to request anything from these unpleasant humans.

  Not that his self-defense protocols had alerted. Ionia’s uncle had an especially negative opinion of droidkind, but he was not a physical threat to Ionia. Most likely not to him. The man let his eyes flick to Den then back to his family, as if nervous of Den’s intention.

  Good.

  Let the man fear him. He was weary of all of the harassment and the attacks and separations and markings.

  And worst of all, amid the marking, the incarceration, and the verbal dress down, was Ionia’s response to her uncle. But he’s just my friend.

  That information had slammed into his processor like an internal system fire.

  Ionia was his center. If he were a planet, she would be his sun. The fact that he may not be hers was difficult to assimilate. He had gladly been destroyed to ensure her safety and would do so again if the situation warranted it.

  She had said she enjoyed his company, craved his attention, adored his ability to paint her nails flawlessly, but what was beyond that? Did she consider him a mindless automaton like her family clearly did? No. No. She had freed him. She had consistently fought for his rights. Her words must have been a ruse to keep her family at bay.

  Ionia’s mother and aunt had stood in the farthest corner of the abode since Ionia’s departure.

  “Stop worrying. If the operation works, there should be nothing more to worry about,” the maternal aunt whispered.

  “If. Should. Sera, this is my daughter.”

  “She wouldn’t be alive if not—”

  “I don’t want to talk about the past. I want
a guarantee.”

  “You’re a scientist. You know that’s something I cannot provide.” Serafina spoke so low even his sensors could not pick up the complete phrase. He thought she said chhotee bahan.

  Loosely translated from Hindi, the phrase meant little sister.

  The maternal unit’s bottom lip tightened as if she was in pain. Her eyebrows lowered. She cut a look in Den’s direction. Without further communication to her sibling, she depressed her thumb and said, “Privacy.”

  Instantly, his audio silenced, and his visual was obscured. He had just begun to accept Ionia’s mother as a positive influence. He placed them both on his potential threat list and considered revealing the odd behavior to Ionia.

  That wouldn’t be advisable. Their relationship was fragile. In fact, just recently mended. He wouldn’t interfere unless he had evidence. He returned his attention to the shield guarding the mother and aunt’s conversation, just as the young cousins emerged from their bedroom and scanned the terrain of the living area.

  Serafina and Anabel in the kitchen area still in their locked conversation. Councilmember Hebbar sat in an armchair reviewing two holo displays with words and images scrolling by at an impressive speed for a human absorb. The girls zeroed in on Den and, without consulting one another, converged on his location.

  The oldest circled him examining his chassis while the younger girl said, “Are you really a fleshie? You look so real.”

  “I am real.” How could he convey the concept to the child in a way she could understand? He squatted down to meet her eye line. “Like Pinocchio, the story of a puppet who—”

  “We know who Pinocchio is.” The older of the two, Maja, finished her exam of his chassis and joined her sister to face him. Her body language said she was still tentative but curious. The younger had the beginnings of a smile on her face but was waiting for the cue from her older sister. If Den could make an inroad with the children, perhaps the parents would accept him, and existence in the abode would be more tolerable.

  “Do you know any games?” the oldest asked, eyes narrowed. Her heart rate increased. Fear or excitement? He hoped the latter.