Slowly the group dispersed, going their separate ways, looking to pass the time until they arrived on Topaz where they’d board the rail set for west continent.
Rachel sent a message to her brother and then logged onto her Saffron Scene page for the first time in over a year. With the brood looking for them it seemed a bad idea to post updates of where they were and what they were up to. Now she was logging in because there were videos and some stills of her and Dusty, smiling and laughing and enjoying life together.
She clicked on one of them at Railen’s bar, celebrating Formation Day—that was the day the planet’s terraform had completed. Dusty was at the piano wearing large novelty sunglasses that were lime green and sparkly and a plastic top hat covered in shiny bits of flare. He couldn’t play a lick on the keys so he just hammered them tunelessly along with the song playing through the speakers and sang off key.
Rachel smiled.
“You may be the worlds worst piano player,” one of their friends shouted over the music.
“What’s a piano?” Dusty asked. Then continued, “Alright, someone get me a gazoo, I think that’s more my speed.” He spun toward the camera as Rachel came into frame and handed him a fresh cup. He tapped his glass against her’s and took a long sip. “Why don’t you join me baby?” he asked.
She shook her head and said, “No, I think I’m worse than you on that thing.”
“Come on. If you wanna be my woodwind section I’ve got a type of flute you can play,” he said and she laughed in the video. Lying back on her bed she laughed through a veil of tears. After that he leaned in and kissed her and she had to turn it off.
In school she’d learned about the early days of civilization, when a picture was amazing and rare. She thought maybe that was better, or at least easier if someone died. If all she had was a photo she could remember him generally but the details would fade. Now she had three dimensional images of him at the tips of her fingers whenever she’d like. She could constantly remind herself of all the subtle parts of him she would miss, the way his eyes lit up at certain things or the tone of his voice.
She set the sheet aside and focused on the bump in her belly. It scared her, not the part about having Dusty’s baby or being a mother—all that was exciting. The path she’d have to walk to get there was what skipped her heart to a trot. She remembered Quey’s words about not getting out of this without led flying and she knew he was right. People would be shot and more than a few killed before this was done.
At some point she drifted off and had a dream. They were raiding a massive compound, just her and Quey and Arnie and Ryla. There were robots fifty feet tall shooting all manner of weapons and the sky was full of aircraft dropping bombs and shooting missiles at them. They all missed somehow. Something exploded and Natalie was engulfed in flame but when she came around a few moments later she was fine, just covered in a bit of soot.
“I just held my breath and jumped,” she said.
They walked through the compound as invincible warriors. Bullets rang off Ryla’s head, tearing away flesh and exposing and elaborate mesh of circuitry and flashing lights.
“Silly rabbits, I’m not even real,” she said and laughed, her voice buzzing with an electrical hum.
Quey was standing on a platform firing wildly, bullets whizzing past him but none would hit.
Leone and Amber were in the back, making out. A grenade landed at their feet and he kicked it across the room, sending it near some soldiers shooting at them. A moment later it exploded. The soldiers burst like balloons filled with blood.
They moved from room to room and through and endless string of corridors. Finally they made it to the ship. As they ran Rain stepped in front of it, not the Rain she knew but the one from the news feed. The naked one who was beaten and bloody. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I had to tell them.”
Richter Crow appeared behind her, twelve feet tall, and pulled a revolver from inside his jacket. He raised the weapon and fired. Ryla’s robots collapsed into heaps of metal and sparks and she cried out. Another shot boomed and her head was gone, her body dropping limply to the floor. They opened fire but the man was impossible to kill, every shot slammed into him and drew blood but none would take him down. He fired slow even shots that boomed over their rapid ones. One by one they dropped, Quey burst like the soldiers had, Leone and Amber’s faces splattered as a single bullet connected to where their lips met. Natalie was next and then it was only her. Richter Crow smiled and laughed and then the muzzle settled. The barrel seemed large enough for her to crawl into as he pulled the trigger. She woke with a start before there was a boom.
Leone spent a good portion of the day up on deck. He asked the crew if they minded him popping off a few rounds and they said they didn’t. He lined up some junk they gave him and checked one of the handguns he’d taken from the stash. It was loaded with one in the chamber and the safety was off. He took aim, Amber standing behind him, half wincing in anticipation of the bang. He squeezed the trigger lightly and it was a hit.
Looking back, he smiled broadly at Amber and she back at him. She watched as he fired off a few dozen rounds. After his initial success he had a spell of misses but by the end it was mostly cured.
When he was done the two of them took advantage of the distracted adults and searched for a place people were unlikely to find them. Conveniently the cargo ship was massive and the crew was small. They locked themselves in an unused bunk for nearly three hours.
Natalie was in her room, sitting at the desk driving herself mad with worry when Ryla found her. “Can I ask you some questions?”
Natalie looked up from the list she was making on her sheet.
“They might be awkward,” Ryla warned. When Natalie furrowed her brow she added, “They’re about people.”
She smiled, glad for the distraction, and said, “Of course. Sit,” she offered. As Ryla did she asked, “Still confused by love?”
Ryla took a deep breath and replied, “Yes but there are other things as well.”
“Like?”
“Like I used to think everyone preformed a function and that was their purpose. Since I’ve been out in the world I’ve seen most people do what they do because they have to and that it gives them little satisfaction, if any at all. Their function does not seem to be their purpose.”
Natalie thought for a moment, uncertain.
“Like you,” she went on. “You’re function was teacher before right?”
Natalie nodded.
“But now it’s changed. It’s become doctor.”
“I’m not a doctor.”
“No, but its your function here.” Nat agreed to that with a nod. “But keeping Amber safe seems to be your purpose.”
“I suppose that’s a way of saying it, but I think it’s part of my function—as you say—as well. Keeping everyone safe is my purpose.”
“Yes but if everyone dies and Amber lives you would find that result acceptable, unsatisfactory as it may be.”
Natalie thought on that for a spell, then tried to explain. “Ryla, you need to understand-”
“You don’t need to defend it,” she interrupted. “It doesn’t hurt my feelings. I just want to know why?”
“Because people don’t have a singular purpose,” she answered. “We don’t perform only one function.”
Ryla nodded thoughtfully.
“Even you.”
She looked up. “My function is computers and robotics.”
“But you came up with the plan today, you were the only one who even had an idea,” she added. Ryla nodded once. “You preformed a function to Rain as friend, and I’d like to think that extends to the rest of us. You had another function when you took us in. All the things you’re trying to learn they’ll all bring about new functions to new and different people.”
She sucked on her lips thoughtfully for a moment.
“The point is our purpose, I think, isn’t the same as a programs. We aren’t responsible for a single
task. Sometimes we settle into a place and start a family. Sometimes we have to travel about selling moonshine or jewelry, and sometimes we have to break into a secure base and steal a space ship so we can escape a dying planet and warn everyone that it’s happening.” Natalie laughed slightly. “Say it out loud like that and it’s too much.” Ryla smiled. “Truth is Ryla, when it comes robots it might be easy to say this is it’s function and this is its purpose and all that but when it comes to you and me and everyone else, our function and purpose is to be a person and live.”
Ryla smiled. “I like you.”
It took Natalie by surprise, the bluntness of the comment, but she did her best not to let it show. Instead she smiled back and said, “I like you too.”
A moment passed quietly and Ryla asked, “Should we hug?”
Natalie laughed and touched her lightly on the arm. “You really are a sweetheart,” she said.
“No. I like what you said, that I could function to be a person but I don’t think its true,” she said.
“Why would you say that?” Natalie wondered.
“Because I can’t feel it. I don’t love and it makes me selfish and that makes me hurt people.”
“But you’re learning right?” Natalie noted her unresponsive nature and said, “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you.”
Ryla looked up at her and told her about the sailor. Then about going to Quey after.
“And you didn’t tell him?” Natalie asked, struggling not to show her distaste for the girl’s actions.
“No,” Ryla replied.
“Then don’t. But don’t do that again.” After a moment she asked, “Do you understand why?”
Ryla shook her head. “It was just sex. It’s a pleasing sensation, and I wanted to feel it. He liked it too.”
“That’s not the part that’s in question. It’s the rest. The trust. There’s a lot of it in sex. If you want to be with other people that’s your choice, but Quey has the right to choose as well. Do you think he would have chosen to have sex with you if he knew about the sailor?”
Ryla shook her head once and said, “No.”
Natalie peered at her, “Is that why you didn’t tell him?”
“Yes.”
Natalie sat back and sighed.
“I didn’t want to go to him. I told him no more when we were on the road because I didn’t want to damage his feelings, but I can’t help it. I tried to satisfy my desire with someone else and they were bad at sex,” she said bluntly. “I tried not to go to his room and I tried to leave once I was there, but all I could think about was how great it would feel. I’m bad,” Ryla said, regretfully.
“No,” Natalie told her. “But in this you were wrong. You treated him like parts, and used him as such.”
Ryla looked up at her with wide eyes, and she understood. Now she actually did feel bad about it.
“If you care about him you shouldn’t do that, and I know you do. You said it was better with Quey and maybe it was, mechanically speaking, but you also said you like the way he looks at you and that’s part of the connection you think you don’t feel. Maybe you don’t, maybe you don’t love the way other people do, or maybe you just don’t know how to function with them, but you’re not bad.” Ryla looked up at her. “Look at everything you’re doing to save the people on this planet, and I’ve never seen an angle where it benefits you. Matter of fact I have a feeling if the planet did die you could live for quite some time in that compound just fine.”
Ryla nodded, “It’s self sufficient.”
“Now you’re losing everything, and you haven’t asked for anything. That makes you pretty good as far as I’m concerned.”
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Of course,” Natalie replied openly.
After that they continued, Ryla asking question after question until well into the night. By the end she knew what might hurt a person’s feelings, and had a better grasp on being a friend, but she still didn’t really understand. One thing she knew for sure was that being a good friend to Quey probably meant not seeking him for sexual gratification, much as she may desire it. It would be tough and new for her because denying her urges was something she’d never done. As soon as she became curious about sex she built Boyfriend, and now she thought maybe that was best. But it was hard to imagine going back and being just as satisfied. She enjoyed real skin in a way the synthetic kind would never emulate. Plus, she had to admit Rain was right. She enjoyed someone enjoying her as well. It was an intense sensation and one of the things that drew her back to Quey was the way he enjoyed her. It tingled in her belly.
Natalie assured her that not all men were bad at it, though she did admit every time with someone new was a roll of the dice and there was no way to tell beforehand.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Ryla told her. “Why they can’t just all be good at it. You’d think someone would have written a book or something.”
Natalie laughed and sighed, “If only it was as simple as that.”
I’m Alone Now and So Who Am I
He woke alone, head swimming with uncertainty. He knew where he was, the second floor, near the bank of computers that controlled the buildings functions. But why was he there? And what was he supposed to do next.
He detected no protocols dictating his next actions. He found he had no next actions at all. His function was to bring pleasure and comfort to Ryla. That parameter was missing. He scanned his systems for errors and found none. Nothing to do. So what now then? Just sit? Linger here until… what?
One of the small bots, the one shaped like a turtle, koopbot he knew it to be called, approached and looked up at him. It cocked its head slightly, studying him. Its large eyes, white then green with a single black lens in the middle, blinked at him.
“What is your function?” he asked.
Koopbot blinked and then rolled away. It apparently had a task and as he watched it go he wished he could do the same. What he wouldn’t give for a place to go and something to do. For now he just sat.
The building hummed as the vents purged the air of dust and dirt and impurity, then cooled it and sent it back out into the rooms. Something to do. Now he just sat, motionless, and he did this for many hours.
He had been given many names over the years but in recent times he was known simply as Boyfriend. He knew the word, had an understanding of its meaning and knew it wasn’t a name but a title. It was a title given because it reflected his function but he couldn’t go by it any longer. The title or at least its implied functions had been taken over by another now. He’d seen them together, Ryla and the one designated as Quey, before his reboot. He thought nothing of it because… because it wasn’t his function to think anything of it.
Suddenly boyfriend realized what he was doing. He was thinking, calculating and considering. In the past he remembered waiting for parameters to match, this time equals this action to be preformed at this rate. Now there was nothing. But there was something. He was aware of his parameters now, but as he thought back on the years he’d spent carrying out his protocols he never had been before.
He began looking around the room. He didn’t have to sit there. He could stand and move. Where could he go? He was surprised to discover he could go anywhere. No matter what destination he selected for himself and regardless of the route he plotted he never met with a violation.
What had happened to him? A reboot. Why? Reboots are only for… alterations to software.
He sat staring at the empty room, listening to the silence over the buildings dull hums. What the hell had she done to him? Where was she now? What was he going to do? The only thing he knew how to do, he supposed. He stood and went to look for Ryla.
He started on the first floor, in the lobby. It took a great deal of time to look through every cabinet and closet and under every piece of furniture, even the ones his logic gates claimed it would be impossible for her to hide under. He even looked under the rug, not because he hoped to fin
d her there but because he’d never been able to do anything that illogical before, and now he could.
The machine shop took longer to search, as there were far more tiny little nooks to investigate and plenty of drawers to open. They all contained tools or parts. He inspected a container full of screws for a long time, again, because he could. To see what else he could do he initiated a search of the container for the presence of Ryla. This should have come back to him as a violation of at least one logic gate, as there was no possible way Ryla could fit in the tiny canister of screws he held in his hand. Instead he was able to proceed. He dragged his fingers through them for a time then set the container aside and moved on.
Next he proceeded to the second floor and inspected it with the same thoroughness, meeting with the same results.
It was hours later when he finally made it to the third floor. In the main room he saw shybot, goombot and mob-bot resting on the couch playing a game. They had a function, even without Ryla.
He started in her room, searching through her closet and looking under her bed. He searched the drawer in her desk and behind the door. It was futile, he knew, even as he proceeded through the rooms, looking in the cabinets and showers, searching through closets and dressers. He wasn’t going to find her, of course, but he wasn’t really looking for her was he? If that were the case he could simply ask the computer and it would tell him if she was in the building and where. No, he was looking for her because it was something to do.
When he came to the conclusion that there was nowhere else for him to look, unless he started cracking eggs to see if maybe she was inside, he went back into the main room and collapsed on the couch beside the set of bots still playing their game. He sat for a long time before he grew curious as to why the windows were covered. Why should he care about such a thing, he wondered as he looked over his shoulder at the massive metal shutters closed over the glass pains in the kitchen behind him. He should be looking out at the glare of the waste right now, but he wasn’t and he was curious as to why.
The Saffron Malformation Page 75