‘No, no,’ Sidra said. ‘What I meant is that I want you to sit there and drink this cup of mek I’m about to make for you.’
Pepper laughed. ‘Oh, no, what a difficult task.’ She sat down on one of the stools and dropped her gloves onto the counter. She turned her attention to an item near them – a Linking hud, ready to be worn on a Human face. Or, at least, a face that appeared Human. ‘Don’t forget to put this on tomorrow,’ Pepper said, nodding toward it.
‘I won’t,’ Sidra said. Owl could feel something akin to a sigh pass through Sidra’s end of the node. The turtle bot would remain plugged into the Linkings once Home was open to customers, but Sidra would have to implement her newest protocol: a self-imposed delay to speech, plus a bit of sideways eye movement, when accessing Linking information while wearing the hud. If wearing hud, then don’t talk fast, as Sidra jokingly put it. To any strangers speaking to her, Sidra would appear to be reading, rather than getting the information straight from the source. It was, in Owl’s estimation, a very fair compromise.
Owl had a few protocol changes of her own, thanks to Sidra. No more honesty protocol. No more mandatory compliance with direct requests. Sidra had offered to scrub her ‘purpose’ file as well, but after some thought, Owl had turned that down. She’d been conscious for decades, and the past standard had presented her with change and challenge enough. Protect your passengers and monitor the systems that keep them alive, the file read. Provide a safe and welcoming atmosphere for all sapients present. Yes, they were someone else’s words, but she had no desire to change them. She liked those words. They suited her just fine.
Owl watched Pepper, who in turn watched Sidra. ‘Hey,’ Pepper said quietly. ‘Set that aside for a sec.’
Sidra poured a heaping spoonful of mek powder into the brewer, then leaned on the bar toward Pepper. ‘What’s up?’
‘How are you feeling about all this?’ Pepper said.
‘Nervous,’ Sidra said, rocking her core body’s head back and forth. ‘Excited. Those two keep chasing each other around.’
Pepper smiled. ‘I get that.’
‘I just . . . I really want people to like this place.’
‘I’m sure they will,’ Pepper said. ‘I mean, I want to hang out here, and I’ve been fixing it up for tendays.’ They both laughed. Pepper tapped a finger on the counter in thought. ‘Do you like this place? Do you feel good about it?’
Owl could feel Sidra process the question seriously. Her core body looked around. The petbots looked around. Owl touched the node, and asked for permission to share what Sidra saw. Sidra welcomed her in.
Pepper. Tak. Blue. Shelves filled with bottles containing dozens of different tastes. Corners filled with cushions and cosy tables. Good walls. Bright windows. A space for people, where no two days would be alike. A space for a family, where no one could interfere.
‘Yes,’ Sidra said, her pathways echoing the same. ‘Yes, I like it here.’
Pepper’s expression changed, and this face, Owl hadn’t seen before. ‘I’m proud of you,’ Pepper said.
Owl sent a hurried message through the node. Sidra left the back of the bar and went to Pepper’s side. With a warm look, she wrapped her arms around Pepper, hugging her close.
‘That’s from me,’ Owl said. ‘I’m proud of you, too.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I wrote this book over the course of a rather challenging year, and I never could have finished it were it not for the cadre of people that kept me going. In no particular order, I offer the hugest of thanks to: Anne Perry, my matchless, one-in-a-million editor; the entire team at Hodder & Stoughton for all their tireless work; everybody at my former day job, for being so supportive of me doing this in the first place; every wonderful stranger who wrote emails or found other ways to buoy me along; all the incredible booksellers and bloggers, who are the main reason anybody is reading any of this at all; my long-suffering friends, with extra loud shout-outs to Greg, Susana, and Zoe; Mom, Dad, and Matt for their love; and Berglaug, the best part of every day.