The Android Chronicles Book One: The Android Defense

by Marling Sloan

  “How can you not be surprised?” Mandelie said. “He and I have been mortal enemies before this.”

  “Sometimes we hate the things we’re attracted to,” Trista said. “And you’re going through a rough patch with Luke.”

  “That’s not an excuse,” Mandelie said.

  “Yeah, but maybe the difficulties you’re having with Luke is because of the undeniable fact that he’s an android and you’re not. I’m not an expert at things like this, but maybe your human-ness is finally acting out and telling you to be with another human being. I’m not crazy about Damian, but I can be objective and see a reason why there’s a whole line of models waiting to date him.”

  Mandelie buried her head in her hands.

  “Should I tell Luke?”

  “No,” Trista said immediately.

  “He’s not even here now, anyway,” she added, with a touch of disgust. “Do you know when he’s coming back?”

  “He said as soon as he could,” Mandelie said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen anymore. I feel torn in two directions.”

  “I think you’ll figure out what to do,” Trista said. “But no one else can help you with that.”

  “Don’t tell Jake,” Mandelie said. “He’d probably freak out. And not Brigite either. She’ll tell Luke.”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” Trista said. “And I’m not judging you. I understand. I’m trying to understand, at least.”

  Brigite settled down on her cot in the back room of the laboratory. Though she was a little bit annoyed with Luke’s absence, she was not overly bothered by it, her android sense of detachment filling in the blanks for her where human emotion would have clouded with worry and doubt.

  She looked down at the clutter of objects thrown around her cot – her usual surrounding mess of her stuffed animals, clothes, and scented candles - and reached out for one of the candles, intending to light one for while she was in her sleep state.

  At the same time her cell phone vibrated. She picked it up and saw a new message blinking from Luke.

  “Do not burn any candles in the lab while I’m gone. I will come back as soon as I can.”

  “How does he always know when I’m about to light a candle?” Brigite said aloud, in annoyance.

  Chapter 11.

  Dabya paced up and down the length of her bedroom, unable to sleep. Luke’s words about the Society had shaken her. She knew that she trusted him and his grasp of matters, but she also knew that it would not be easy for her to turn Gustaf down. After all, she was – in his words – a pillar of the society.

  And pillars could never bend. The consequences could be disastrous.

  She was not yet concluded on what she thought of Gustaf. He seemed to her amiable enough, even if his demeanor was somewhat cold and rigid. But then again, so were many other brilliant technicians in the Society.

  She finally sat on her chair in front of her vanity table. She picked up her phone and dialed a number.

  Gustaf picked up on the other end.

  “Your Highness,” he said.

  “Thank you very much for your invitation, Mr. President,” Dabya said. “But I’m afraid I cannot help you at this time. My commitments are strained as it is.”

  There was a brief silence on the other end.

  “What of your commitment to the Society?” Gustaf said.

  “You have my answer,” Dabya said. “I wish you the best of luck.”

  She hung up the phone quickly.

  Damian sat behind his desk in his office on the top floor of the Adventis building. With Carlie still recuperating on his couch, he was a little bit buried by the work that waited for him, but he plunged into it with the enthusiasm of someone who had been unable to leave his house only a month before. His newfound energy was also helped by his occasional thoughts of Mandelie.

  His cell phone rang and he picked up.

  “Damian Foster.”

  “I’m feeling a little better,” Carlie said, her voice feeble. “I’m looking at my iPad now and I just got an alert that the Innovators Summit a week from now has been moved to San Diego. I’ll send it to you right now, as well as a copy of your speech.”

  “What are you doing?” Damian said. “Put the iPad down and back away slowly.”

  “Damian, a lot of your emails come to me, in case you don’t remember. There’s the usual congratulations on your recovery messages – achoo! – as well as a bunch of important notes from Hewlett Packard, Microsoft, and Boeing about your meetings with them. Achoo! Boeing wants to know if you’ve received their design requests for the new robotic plane you’ve contracted with them. And Senator Mitchell wants to grab lunch with you whenever you’re free. Achoo!”

  “You really are like my third arm, aren’t you?” Damian said. “Fine, send everything to me and I’ll answer them.”

  “I’ve already answered some of-”

  “I’ll answer the rest of them,” Damian said. “Seriously. You need to get back to the couch and turn off that iPad. That’s a direct order.”

  Carlie gasped as though Damian had suggested pulling life support on a dying person.

  “I can’t turn it off! What do you mean, turn it off?”

  “Okay,” Damian said. “Calm down. Just try to ignore it, and all the alerts and all the messages coming from it, okay? Send everything to me. I need you on your feet again as soon as possible.”

  “Okay. Achoo! Okay.”

  Damian hung up and tried to remember where he had left off. The intercom on his desk buzzed, signaling an incoming call from the concierge on the first floor. He pressed it.

  “Yes?”

  “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Foster, but there’s a Mandelie Miles here to see you,” the concierge said.

  “Send her up with an access card,” Damian said.

  The intercom turned off. Damian straightened his tie hastily and raked a hand through his hair.

  The elevator doors facing his office opened slowly and Mandelie stepped out. She looked extremely pretty in a casual shirt, jeans, and her hair loosely tied in a braid, but her face was uncertain and a little guarded.

  Damian stood automatically.

  “I didn’t know you were coming,” he said. “But I’m glad to see you.”

  “I thought you’d be here,” Mandelie said.

  “I love this place now,” Damian said. “Even more than I did before.”

  He gestured to the couches in the sitting area.

  “Want to sit over there?”

  “Sure,” Mandelie said.

  Damian sat and Mandelie sat beside him, facing him.

  “You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” Damian said, unable to suppress a slight grin.

  “No,” Mandelie said. “No.”

  She bit her lip and looked away from him.

  “I don’t even know why I’m here, or what we’re doing,” she said.

  “Listen,” Damian said. “It’s too late to ask questions, why this and why that. What’s done is done. I don’t regret it at all. I loved it. The question now is, do you want it to continue?”

  “It’s easy for you to do things like this,” Mandelie said. “It’s not that easy for me.”

  “Why?” Damian said, still with a slight smile. “Because I’m a hopeless sinner and you’re a blameless angel?”

  “Because I’m dating Luke,” Mandelie said. “Because I can’t do this to him, no matter what I feel for you.”

  “What do you feel for me?” Damian said, looking at her intently.

  “I don’t know. I used to know, before,” Mandelie said. “I was sure I hated you. Now, I …”

  She broke off and drew in her breath.

  Damian leaned into her and kissed her. Mandelie did not pull away. She kissed him back, her defenses falling from her.

  “I have a conference call in five minutes,” Damian said, breaking off the kiss after a few moments with difficulty. He exhaled. “I’d postpone it, but it’s with Boeing and they don’t like being
postponed. Even if their flights do.”

  “I need to go back to the lab,” Mandelie said. “I can’t stay.”

  “Can you have dinner with me tonight?” Damian said. “At my place.”

  Mandelie hesitated. She thought of the endless past parade of women who must have passed through Damien’s bedroom.

  “No,” she said. “Come to my place. Call me before you do.”

  “Of course,” Damian said.

  Gustaf Jorg, Pierre Alsouvi, and the vice president of the Society, a Dutch computer programmer named Mikael Graus were gathered around a table in the kitchen of Gustaf’s modest, but architecturally pleasing house in Stockholm. They were poring over blueprints for the new android construction complex of Gustaf’s vision.

  “I like it,” Pierre said. “The building is soundly constructed and affords plenty of space for the storage of thousands of androids. Perhaps even tens of thousands.”

  “I want it to hold a capacity of hundreds of thousands,” Gustaf said.

  Pierre nodded, with a look of respect. He was somewhat in awe of Gustaf’s abilities, and the awe had not diminished over the many years of their friendship.

  “Do we have enough funds?” Gustaf said.

  “More than enough,” Mikael said. “Donations are pouring in from all corners of the globe from members eager to support you. Your reputation has clearly won most of the Society over. We are all eager to forget Lataun.”

  “Lataun had noble intentions,” Gustaf said. “His intention was, of course, to bring about the future our Society envisions. His mistake was that he did not build his android army himself, but instead placed it into the hands of an outsider.”

  “That outsider was his son,” Pierre said.

  “Whoever he was, Lataun gave up control and lost it, as a result,” Gustaf said. “That will not be my mistake.”

  “Gustaf, who is that person?” Mikael said, catching a glimpse of Madrick Castleshank stomping past the kitchen.

  “Pay no attention to him,” Gustaf said. “He is my assistant, but I am getting a little tired of his louche ways. I may get rid of him soon and find a new one.”

  Chapter 12.

  The endless green grounds behind Schoenbrunn Palace included a park filled with dense trees and gently rolling hills. It was filled with horse riding paths and walking trails and views of the palace from all sides of it.

  Dabya and Luke rode through the park on horses, Luke ably maintaining his seat on his horse despite never having ridden one before. Dabya was an accomplished equestrian and looked relaxed and carefree on her horse.

  “You’re doing splendidly,” she said to Luke. “You have a natural seat.”

  “I’m not entirely sure what that means, but thank you,” Luke said.

  A mile behind them Niklaus Schroder and another bodyguard followed in a dark SUV.

  Dabya waited until Luke drew up alongside of her before flashing him a teasing smile.

  “Would you like to race? From here to that fallen tree in the distance. Go!”

  Without waiting for Luke to assent Dabya and her horse took off in a thunderous cloud. Luke and his horse raced after them.

  The two of them galloped through the forest as the SUV roared behind them in pursuit to keep them in sight.

  Finally Dabya arrived at the fallen tree moments before Luke did. She clapped loudly as he arrived.

  “That was not totally fair,” Luke said. “You did not count to three. I believe that is the usual human practice.”

  Dabya laughed.

  Luke got down from his horse and swung her down. The two of them sat on the fallen tree trunk.

  “I turned down Gustaf’s invitation,” Dabya said.

  “I know,” Luke said.

  Dabya looked at him with amused eyes.

  “Were you listening again?”

  “No,” Luke said. “That was a singular occurrence. I would not infringe on your privacy unless you were in danger. But I knew you would turn it down because you are intelligent.”

  “Well,” Dabya said, taking a sip from her bottle of water. “I trust you. But now that you have convinced me to defy the Society’s new leader, you must not desert me now. I need you by my side.”

  She laughed, but her eyes were serious.

  “I won’t leave,” Luke said.

  “But there is one thing I am missing if I am not a part of Gustaf’s venture, Luke,” Dabya said. “That proximity to his actions. The reason why you came here.”

  Luke looked straight ahead.

  “I had thought of it,” he said. “But I could not ask you to play such a dangerous role. The role of a spy. It’s more dangerous than refusing to participate.”

  “Oh, Luke.” Dabya stood and put her hand on the side of his face. “I’ve faced a lot more in my life than a bunch of scientists who want to build a fortress for their ideas. If you’re so kind as to remain with me, I intend to make it worth your time. I will tell Gustaf I’ve changed my mind, and I wish to be part of his undertaking. That way I can tell you everything that’s going on.”

  Luke said nothing.

  “I can’t let you do something like that,” he said finally. “You’d be in real danger, and somewhere I can’t look out for you.”

  “It’s because I kissed you, I know,” Dabya said. “You feel responsible for me now, even if we’re only friends. Don’t worry about it, Luke. I will be fine. My guards are with me wherever I go.”

  Luke took her hand and kissed the back of it.

  Chapter 13.

  As Gustaf, Pierre, and Mikael pored over the blueprints late into the night, discussing ideas and theories, Pierre felt his cell phone ring. He picked it up and suppressed a yawn.

  “Alsouvi.”

  “Hello, Pierre,” Dabya said.

  “Your Highness,” Pierre said, causing Gustaf and Mikael to snap to attention.

  “I’ve decided I would like to be a part of the president’s building plan after all,” Dabya said. “You’ll forgive me my about-turn, won’t you? It was simply a matter of clearing out some of my other duties.”

  “That’s great news, Your Highness,” Pierre said. “Great news.”

  He hung up and faced the other two.

  “Dabya has changed her mind,” he said, looking jubilant. “She wishes to be a part of our efforts.”

  Mikael smiled but Gustaf looked thoughtful.

  “Indeed,” he said, his eyes cold and searching. “Indeed.”

  Worried that even the wrong look might give her away while she was at the lab, Mandelie tried to busy herself with cleaning out the front reception area, as Jake played online Scrabble on his computer with Brigite’s help – or interference.

  “T – H – O-” Jake said, squinting as he stared at the screen.

  “Thong,” Brigite said.

  “The hint says it’s a person’s name. I don’t know anyone named Thong. Plus it’s a five letter word, not a four letter word.”

  “Thomas,” Mandelie said, as she dusted underneath the desk.

  “Okay,” Jake said. “G-A-R-”

  “Garter belt,” Brigite said.

  “Garden,” Jake said, typing in the letters. “Great.”

  “H-A-N-”

  “Handcuffs,” Brigite said.

  “Brig, it’s Scrabble for beginners, not Scrabble for sex addicts,” Jake said. “I believe the word is ‘handover.’ And … I’m right. Yes!”

  He pumped his fist in the air.

  “Do you win anything?” Brigite said. “A prize?”

  “Satisfaction,” Jake said.

  “That is a terrible prize,” Brigite said.

  Trista came into the room, just as a huge flower arrangement came in through the front door on a wheeled cart pushed by a postal worker.

  “Wow!” Brigite said. “Now that’s a prize.”

  Mandelie stood, her heart pounding sickly in her throat. There was no way Damian would make such an obvious display of feeling in front of the whole lab, right?
<
br />   Trista took the card off of the giant bouquet and read it.

  “‘To Dr. Miles – thank you for saving Damian’s ability to walk. We are all eternally grateful. Sincerely, Carlie Wesler and the rest of Aventis Technologies.’ Well, isn’t that nice.”

  She put the card back on the bouquet but not before exchanging a look with Mandelie. It was obvious Trista had been as alarmed as she was.

  Carlie was feeling significantly better and was sitting up on the couch in Damian’s spacious living room with her iPad and a cup of warm water, pausing only occasionally to sneeze.

  She heard the front door open and Damian come inside. He walked into the living room, put his shoulder bag down on the floor, and surveyed her up and down.

  “You’re starting to look normal again,” he said.

  Carlie nodded.

  “I was just looking at the press coverage of the Adventis party,” she said, pointing to her screen. “I thought you were going with Kate Upton. You took Mandelie Miles?”

  Damian sat down in a chair and glanced at his phone without looking at her.

  “Oh, um, yeah. Just as a platonic date. I’m grateful to everyone at that lab. I thought she might have fun.”

  Carlie laughed unbelievingly.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought she hated you.”

  “Past tense,” Damian said. “We get along better now.”

  Carlie shrugged.

  “Okay, then. How did your talk with the Boeing people go? Achoo!”

  “Great,” Damian said. “They’re excited to get on board with us. I even got them to put down a higher offer than their original one.”

  Carlie smiled.

  “That’s good to hear. Did you get in touch with Senator Mitchell?”

  “We’re having lunch tomorrow,” Damian said. He got up.

  “Get back to rest, okay? I’m going out in a little bit.”

  “Okay,” Carlie said, looking back at her iPad. “I’m really feeling a lot better. I can probably go back to my own place soon. Achoo!”