The Little Android

Part Six

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” said Miko, sitting on Dataran’s other side.

Star knew that she was talking about the ship that was about to leave the hangar—a sleek, flashy thing that had been commissioned for the annual Space Race to Neptune (which everyone knew was a fallacy—the race officially ended at Jupiter, but the sponsors claimed that didn’t have the same ring to it). It was a beautiful ship, with its elongated thrusters and needle-sharp nose. The painters had outdone themselves, creating a very realistic montage of New Beijing’s skyline across its frame.

But Star did not care so much for the ship. Her attention had gone back up to the ceiling as it pulled back to reveal the endless sky. Although her new life as a human had given her the opportunity to gaze up at the night sky as often as she wished, her eyes never tired of it. The sense of vastness and eternity, the yearning to see what else the universe had to offer, even for one as small and unimportant as she was.

Star didn’t think that Miko had glanced up at all since the ceiling had lifted to allow the ship an exit. Of course, she had already been to space countless times. Would be going again as soon as the Orion Classic was finished—another two or three weeks at the most. Ochida-shìfu had been growing more and more impatient, urging them to tighten the schedule, to work longer hours, to finish early.

Miko and Dataran, on the other hand, seemed to become more and more miserable as each step of the rebuild was completed. If anything, Dataran’s pace had slowed as the ship’s deadline loomed.

Star pulled her attention away as Dataran was explaining the different features of the racer, gesturing at the elegant curve of its back, the power behind the rocket boosters, and on and on. Star was more interested in the sound of his voice than his words. The subtle inflections. The careful pronunciation of very technical terms. The way he talked faster when something struck him as ingenious. Listening to him felt like being plugged into a power dock, feeling the gentle current of electricity warm and enliven her.

She glanced over at him, and the contented smile fell from her lips.

Dataran had laced his fingers with Miko’s and was holding her hand on his knee, while his other hand drew explanatory pictures in the air.

Something flashed in Star’s chest—a spark maybe, or a power surge. Her fingers curled into fists, tightening with the urge to reach across Dataran and rip their hands away from each other. To shove Miko aside. To wrap her own fingers around Miko’s neck.

Grimacing, she turned away, and waited for the flood of white to fade from her vision.

It was not the first time such horrible thoughts had come into her head. Generally, she found that she enjoyed Miko’s company. She was a smart girl who talked just enough to keep Star from feeling strange that she couldn’t participate in the conversation, and who had insisted that Star take the occasional walk with her in a nearby park when she deemed that Star had been working too hard lately.

But when they were with Dataran, which was more often than not, Star found herself withdrawing from Miko’s friendliness and discovering a darker part of her programming. She figured it had to be another glitch—this strange desire to hurt a human being—that seemed to emerge only when Dataran found some subtle way to touch Miko. Just placing a hand on her elbow or brushing a lock of hair off her shoulder.

These little moments made Star feel like she was disintegrating inside.

Maybe the malfunctions were getting worse. Maybe a new processor would help. Had she earned enough money now to afford one? She wasn’t sure, and she needed to weigh it with her need for a power source that didn’t threaten to die near the end of every workday.