The Mother saw Jane 23, but she didn’t step through the hole. She looked at it and just stood there, like she didn’t know what to do. Even without a face, it was real easy to tell that she was angry. So, so angry.
Jane 64 was crying and scared, and her face was a wrong kind of red. She looked at Jane 23 real hard, looked at her in a way that made her think of every morning they’d cuddled close before the wake-up lights turned on, of the time 64 had said she was the most good. ‘Run,’ Jane 64 said. ‘Run!’
Jane 23 knew she shouldn’t run. She’d done bad behaviour. There was no way to get out of punishment, and fighting would make it worse. But that hot, good, angry feeling was louder than anything the Mothers had ever told her. Jane 64 kept screaming: ‘Run!’ Her muscles said it, too: Run. Run!
So she did.
SIDRA
Blue got to his feet as Pepper and Sidra walked in the door. ‘Hey!’ he said with a big smile.
‘Hi,’ Sidra said, and simultaneously accessed the file named make yourself comfortable.
1. remove jacket
2. remove shoes
3. find a place to sit
4. (optional) get a snack or beverage
Pepper eyed her partner as she unlaced her boots. ‘What’s up?’ she asked, in a tone that suggested something had to be.
Blue continued to smile. ‘I’ve, uh, I’ve done some redecorating.’ He spoke more reassuringly as Pepper raised her brow. ‘Nothing big! Just s-something, ah, something for our housemate.’
Sidra was intrigued. She removed jacket and shoes from the kit, and went into the living room. Blue was right – not much had changed, but the couch had been moved, and beside it was a new chair, pushed up against the wall as far as it would go. A small table was next to it, holding a Linking box and a tethering cable. A blush of happiness spread through Sidra’s pathways. She understood. This was a place for her to sit down and plug in when she came home.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘This is very kind.’ She paused, not wanting to be impolite. ‘Can I . . .?’
‘Please!’ Blue said.
Sidra couldn’t get the kit seated fast enough. She popped the cable into the headjack, and the kit fell back into the chair, as an organic sapient would at the end of a long day. She closed the kit’s eyes, savouring the flood of information. She wouldn’t have known how to describe the feeling to the Humans. Perhaps like instantly regrowing a limb that had recently been severed.
‘Is the chair in a g-good spot?’ Blue asked. ‘Is the angle okay? I tried to find somewhere, ah, somewhere where you can see most of the room.’
Sidra opened the kit’s eyes and looked around. ‘Yes, this is great,’ she said, simultaneously downloading everything she’d added to her topics to research file that day. She’d already begun to lose herself in the task when she detected something brushing against the kit’s leg. She flicked the kit’s eyes down, but the angle wasn’t right. She still couldn’t see what it was. The kit sighed, and she bent it forward, directing the head down.
A little machine had come out from under the chair. A soft-skinned bot, in the shape of an animal Sidra didn’t recognise. Big head, stubby body, eight stumpy legs. She searched her reference files, but came up empty.
‘Oh, cute!’ Pepper said as she came into the room. She placed a fond hand on Blue’s shoulder. ‘Aw, that’s real cute.’
Sidra watched the bot, which had begun to rub its side against the kit’s leg. Two green mechanical eyes opened and met her gaze. Without warning, the bot leaped into the kit’s lap, and cooed a wordless invitation.
Sidra wasn’t sure what to do. ‘What is this?’ she asked.
‘Put out your hand,’ Blue said.
Sidra put the kit’s right hand forward, hesitantly. The machine pushed its nose forward, nuzzling the kit’s fingertips, cooing and chuffing as it did so. The kit started smiling, though Sidra couldn’t say quite why.
‘It’s a petbot,’ Blue said. ‘This one’s, ah, this one’s made to look like an ushmin. They’re a Harmagian th-thing, but everybody likes ushmin.’
Sidra realised that Blue was watching her with hopeful expectation. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘Is this for me?’
Blue nodded happily. ‘I kn-know being in somebody else’s space can be weird. I figured it’d be, um, be good to – good to have something that’s yours.’ He put his hands in his front pockets. ‘Plus they say pets are – are calming. Thought it might help you feel more at home here.’
The sentiment was sweet, but Sidra stuck on one bit of the phrasing: something that’s yours. If the petbot was a gift, she owned it now. Gingerly, she made the kit pick up the mechanical ushmin. It wriggled, giving the impression of enjoying the contact. The kit’s smile faded. ‘Is it sentient?’