by Ann Aguirre
“I would prefer not to provide more details at this juncture,” he said, as if he feared she would insist.
“Your secrets are your own. I’m here to help, not to break your defenses. Safeguards are present for a reason. When you trust me more, you will share of your own free will.”
Helix regarded her in silence for so long that it was unnerving, not least because he was too damned attractive. “No one has ever expressed a desire to earn my trust.”
“That’s regrettable,” Qalu said. “As it’s the most crucial part of a relationship.”
“It’s a pity none of this is real. I truly had no idea that my imagination was sufficient to conjure up such savory delusions.”
“I’ll try to make your stay enjoyable.” She didn’t address his assertion that he was inhabiting a fantasy. Eventually he would accept his new reality.
He’d already adapted quite well to his new physical form, all things considered, but it would be so awkward when she had to teach him about other biological requirements—oh. Perhaps there was a solution. Before clearing away the remnants of their meal, she brought a holographic reader, loaded with some key facts about Tiralan physiology, such as fecal evacuation procedures and the system developed to dispose of it. No matter how dedicated she was to her work, she couldn’t bring herself to offer a more interactive tutorial.
Qalu hurried away, leaving him to scan the information. By the time she stored the food, he was visibly agitated. “Are you telling me I must do…that? Regularly? Forever.” Such an aggrieved and horrified tone. His head tendrils drooped, a palpable aura of misery about him. “How often?”
It would be so inappropriate to reveal her amusement, but she struggled to quell it. “Yes, yes, and it’s impossible for me to say. Your biological cycle will be unique, though it will certainly depend on your alimental intake.”
“I will never consume anything again.”
An adorably childish declaration, and she had no intention of arguing, though she predicted when he got hungry again, he would change his mind. “It’s late. Let me show you to your personal space.”
Qalu didn’t often have visitors, but sometimes one of her altmothers argued with her foremother and retreated to Qalu’s residence until the quarrel cooled. There were no particular parameters on Tiralan for familial units, and four strong-willed femmes formed Qalu’s foundational nurture-bond, so occasional conflict was unavoidable. Brimming with nervous anticipation, she tried not to hover as she led the way.
Any Tiralan visitor would find this space calming, as it was free of color and distraction, light as the only adornment, but she wondered how Helix felt. Perhaps he would prefer more objects, though of what type, she had no notion. Just as she was about to inquire, he said, “This is to be my domicile?”
“Yes.” She hesitated, reluctant to leave, but there was no reason to stay.
“Do you have an AI to assist with household tasks? If so, it would be polite for me to introduce myself before I withdraw.”
Qalu’s head tendrils shivered over how charming that offer was. “I don’t, currently. There’s Aevi, of course, but tomorrow is soon enough for you two to meet.”
Aevi must know she had a visitor by now, but she tended to be standoffish with strangers, so she was likely hiding in Qalu’s quarters. Hopefully she wouldn’t startle Helix by coming to inspect him during the sleep cycle.
He spun so quickly that Qalu almost reached out to steady him, drawing back only as she remembered her promise. “Did you say Asvi?” he asked.
“No, Aevi. Why?”
“It doesn’t signify, just more of my mental caprice. Thank you for the hospitality. It will be unique to have my own space.”
“This is the sleeping platform. I’m sure you’re familiar, but if you aren’t, adjust the temperature settings here. I like to be toasty, but I’m usually wrapped in my swator as well, so I set it a bit lower.”
“That’s what this garment is called?” He plucked at the folds enveloping him, and the motion drew her attention to the sea-gleam of his scales.
Stop. You will not be improper with one who relies on you.
“Yes, it’s traditional on Tiralan during eclipse season. The gloom lasts for a long time, every ten-span, and the darktides are long.”
“Understood. You have been most helpful.”
“Restful sleep,” she bade him.
That prompted another response as she turned to go. “There is something with which you could further assist.”
Qalu took comfort in that request. When he’d first awakened, he had been so angry that she thought he might despise her forever for saving him. “Certainly.”
“I have never done it, so I have no idea how it’s accomplished.”
“What, Helix?”
“Sleep. Out of intellectual curiosity, how does one sleep? Though I might posit that it’s impossible for one who is dreaming already.”
That was both an incredibly basic and incredibly difficult question. She’d never attempted to lay out the steps before. “You get into a comfortable, relaxed position. Quiet your mind. And you…drift away. Or turn off your conscious mind? I’m not sure how to describe it.”
“You can do this with ease? Simply switch off your thoughts.”
“Sometimes it’s difficult,” she admitted. “There are those who struggle with it, and medicines exist to ease the process, but you won’t know if you can do it until you try.”
“Today is a day of wonders,” he muttered. “I eat, I shall attempt to sleep. I’m a biological marvel.”
Qalu let out a gusty breath in silent amusement. “You are indeed. I’ll leave you to it. Dream well, if you manage to sleep, Helix.”
He reached for her then, but he didn’t connect, likely remembering the shock of skin on skin. Suddenly, it seemed unspeakably intimate to her as well, not something that should be done lightly.
“Qalu.”
Ah, why did it sound so lovely when he spoke her name for the first time?
“Yes?”
“Will you stay with me? And perhaps make the sounds you created when you were preparing the food?”
Every single one of her head tendrils fluttered. Oh no, you may not. Stop. She only said, “Of course. There is a melody my foremother employed when I was fractious. Would you like to hear it?”
“Please,” he said, as if there was nothing he wanted more.
Softly, she began to sing.
[ 3 ]
Sleep was…strange.
Helix had no memory of accomplishing the process, yet he had apparently performed the task adequately. He had been listening to the Tiralan lullaby, and then, there was simply a gap in his recollections, as if he had stopped existing for that span of time. Truly, it was an unsettling, uniquely organic experience.
The day/night cycles on Tiralan were different than those on Barath, not that he’d ever perceived the shifts in the light personally. It came to him in the abstract, data to be processed, and that was cleaner. It was beyond strange to move through the physical world instead of parse it as a series of values and probabilities. For a few moments, he tried to get up, then realized that the trying part was wrong. In this realm, instincts regulated his ability to propel his flesh form. When he relaxed and stopped thinking, the motion happened, and he stumbled upright.
The movement triggered sensors that controlled the illumination system, creating a gentle, golden glow. Once, he could’ve connected with everything in the habitat, discover how everything worked, and optimize efficiency with the flicker of a thought. Now, he had no such aptitude, and he scarcely understood his new format, but it appeared that he had to touch things to interact with them.
So inefficient.
As Helix moved toward the exit, the wall parted to admit a small being, a quadruped with large eyes, a triangular head, and a slender body covered in feathery scales that gleamed with blue iridescence. Sharp claws tipped all four feet, a soft tapping as it crept toward him. Helix regarded the
newcomer warily, wishing he could access his database and instantly identify this life form, but that information was fragmented and incomplete, transferred into an imperfect memory state.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Aevi, companion to Qalu. Who are you?”
He recalled the name from the night before at least; there was nothing wrong with his memory storage. “My designation is Helix.”
“Why?”
“I don’t understand the inquiry,” he said.
“Why are you designated Helix? What does your name mean? Why are you called that? I’m called Aevi because it means ‘fallen star’ and Qalu found me when I was a nestling. I had been abandoned by my progenitors, likely because I was the smallest, and she nursed me back to health. She also implanted technology that allows us to converse like equals. Which brings me back to my original question. Why are you Helix? Is it a geometric story?”
“Do you know geometry?” he asked.
“A little. I don’t like it. Calculus is more fun. But I remember the equation for you!” Aevi scampered to the wall and scraped claws until the following appeared:
x = a sinθ, y = a cosθ, z = b θ.
“Fascinating,” said Helix. “In fact, I do not know how or why I acquired this designation. It never occurred to me to query the origins.”
Aevi scampered down from the wall and came toward him, twining around his ankles with a tasting apparatus fluttering out to…sample him? That couldn’t be right, but he felt the touch and scrambled backward. He couldn’t get used to that, the absolute intrusion of it, of someone else imposing themselves on him, as if trying to scrape away his essence.
“Why not?” The little being crept toward him in what felt like a stalking posture, like Aevi might possibly latch on physically while demanding answers.
A flicker of an unpleasant feeling began within him. He didn’t know what to call it, precisely, but he was ready to end this conversation. Why and why not seemed to be Aevi’s favorite words, and he couldn’t adequately explain the lack of curiosity that had dictated his life before. Even when his behavior deviated from acceptable algorithms, it had been concern for Zylar and some instinct for self-preservation that determined his actions.
Helix had never pursued information for its own sake. He mined data purposefully, serving Zylar’s interests as best he could. It never would have occurred to him to wonder why he was called Helix.
“That’s enough,” said Qalu. “I see you’ve already met our guest and have begun pestering him already.”
“He doesn’t even know what his name means. He can’t be very clever,” Aevi declared. “I have no idea what you want with this one. Is it because he’s pretty?”
That was an appalling insult to one who had recently been unparalleled in intelligence. “Perhaps I am incorrect, due to cultural differences, but it seems as if your companion is being rude.”
“Aevi, mind your manners. We don’t often have visitors, so she’s gotten into the habit of expressing her every thought, mostly because I don’t mind.”
As Helix noted the proper pronoun, Aevi hissed, then said, “I won’t apologize!”
Then the little being scampered from the room in a rush of angry claws. Snaps was the only comparable companion Helix had encountered, and the fur-person had been easier to handle. Snaps had enjoyed chasing the cleaning unit and digging in the garden. Somehow, he doubted a companion species that was bored by geometry but found calculus entertaining would be amused by such simple pastimes.
“She can be a bit grouchy and territorial,” Qalu noted.
“So I observe. Is it discourteous to inquire as to her species? I am unable to connect to any additional databases at present.”
“Is that so?” She came closer, though she stopped short of physical contact. “The processor is a prototype, but I never intended to cut you off from all your normal resources. That must be very frustrating.”
“And limiting.”
“I’ll run diagnostics and restore that function as soon as possible. And regarding your question, Aevi is a Pherzul, highly intelligent and native to Tiralan. They normally stay within their own colonies, but when I found Aevi, I couldn’t let her perish.”
“That was…kind,” he said, though he had no true notion whether that word applied in this instance.
“Sometimes I wonder, because she’s deprived of all the normal relationships she would’ve known. Perhaps her progenitors would have returned for her.”
“There is little probability of that. If she was in a precarious state, it seems more logical to conclude that you did, in fact, save her. And that life with you is preferable to none at all, even if it deviates from Pherzul norms.”
Qalu’s head tendrils fluttered. “That is…peculiarly comforting, if a bit grim.”
“I’m pleased I can offer value.”
“Perhaps those were your original parameters, but you aren’t required to be productive or useful here. Interacting with you is enough for me.”
Another emotional response, this one softer and more pleasant. But before he could respond, a terrible wave hit him, a fire centered in his being, and his limbs crumpled, unable to bear weight. He immediately wanted whatever she had given him the day before to make this stop, but he couldn’t get the words out.
“Helix? Where does it hurt?” He tried to indicate, but his flesh wouldn’t cooperate. She bent beside him without touching him, using a device to investigate his physical state. “This may seem like an odd question, but have you…emitted waste since we ate last night?”
“No!” The horrified answer came out sharper than he intended.
“I believe that’s the problem. To help you to the facilities, I need to touch you. Do I have your permission?”
“Yes.”
This time, he barely noticed her touch because there was so much interference screaming inside him. Their progress was a stumbling blur, and Helix wished he could block out what followed with her hovering outside, calling concerned questions. “Are you all right? Do you have any questions? Did you manage to—?”
“It is done,” he said, emerging from the hygiene room with a sense of violation.
I ate things. Processed them. And they passed through me. How egregious. If only his data storage would dump this memory as well as everything else that had happened in the last half cycle. A secondary failure in synapses, particularly one so specific, seemed highly improbable, but then, this entire situation defied all logic. Part of him still believed this was a dream, but he’d slept and woken and shouldn’t that have returned him to reality?
“There should have been smaller physiological signs,” Qalu said. “I suspect you didn’t recognize the cues and ignored them when they were subtle, until they manifested as pain. That’s not the typical experience. Most beings begin learning about their bodies from birth.”
“I don’t understand.” How Helix loathed saying that, over and over. Her words made sense separately, but what were these cues that he was supposed to identify?
She paused as if to consider her response. “I’ve never had to describe it before. This is familiar, like when I was trying to explain sleep. So many things, I’ve never taken the time to break them down. I take the process for granted. How curious.”
“I would be grateful for any information you could provide. It would be preferable to avoid repeating this trial.”
This was the last discussion Qalu had expected to have on her first day with Helix.
She had expected to teach him many things but among them, she hadn’t envisioned so much focus on…biology. On a certain level, that made sense since everything about possessing a body was new to him. Hopefully, he would master this aspect swiftly because this topic was simultaneously amusing and awkward.
After some reflection, she said, “Tightness. A sense of being full? Minor pains and pressure. When you detect those sensations, you need to repeat this process. It will become more comfortable with practice.”
> “I doubt I would ever describe it thus, but thank you for the information.”
“The hollowness you noticed before, that’s hunger. It’ll occur periodically as you get accustomed to your new life.”
“An endless cycle of consumption,” Helix said in a despondent tone.
“You may come to enjoy it, especially as you develop palate preferences. Speaking of which, we should eat before I assess your functionality.”
“Is there no other way to sustain organic life?” he muttered. “There must be meatlings who have transcended these tedious processes.”
“There are nutritive packets tailored to reduce waste, but they’re not very enjoyable. But if you find eating objectionable, I can procure them to reduce your discomfort.”
She glanced back to make sure he was following her into the common space. He replied as she set out food left from their meal the night before. “I am bewildered, but also willing to withstand a reasonable adjustment period. If certain matters don’t grow less disagreeable over time, we can discuss other options.”
“Understood. Have you thought at all what you’d like to do while we’re together?”
“Do?” he repeated, seeming puzzled. “Are you referring to your statement that I must perform labor to recompense you for installing me in this form?”
“Not at all! Perhaps I’m presuming too much, but it seemed like you had work you enjoyed before. I was only asking what you might wish to learn or study, something that interests you.”
“Not work then but…a hobby?”
“Along those lines, yes.”
“I’ve never considered that.”
“You weren’t given free time before?” It was hard not to sound disapproving, but she focused her critical stare on her food. If there were no regulations in place on Barath governing how much work could be required of an AI, there ought to be. All sentient beings deserved the freedom to pursue happiness.
“My work did not keep me constantly occupied, but it did not occur to me to…”
“Expend effort on your own behalf?” she suggested.
