by Michael Kan
“This one,” she said. “I like this one.”
The drone inspected the photo. It then made a sound in what could only be described as human laughter.
“Yes! Perfect.”
Julian was also pleased, opening his arm, and motioning Arendi to enter the store.
“You go ahead. I’ll just be on the other side, getting things fixed up,” he said. “You should look great.”
***
Arendi was nervous. So she closed her eyes throughout the whole process, letting the machine barber cut away, the metal scissors in its miniature hands clicking with each snip. All the while, the drone went on talking. Arendi’s only response was to shake her head, or nod.
“You are a musician maybe?” it asked. “An artist?”
Sitting in the chair, Arendi shook her head. Again, she wondered: had this all been a mistake?
Soon she would find out.
“There! Done.” The final cut coming in like an incision.
She was afraid to open her eyes, but did so, knowing she couldn’t avoid it. In the mirror was her face, but this time it was altogether different.
Her long locks had been dramatically shortened, all the way to near the back of her neck, curling upwards. At her brow, she no longer sported any intrusive bangs, only a nice and wavy trim. Using its tiny hands, the hovering barber swiveled her chair, to one side and then the other, showing the full view of her new do.
“I know. You model,” it cheered, acting as if it were proud of its work. “A model.”
She sat looking at the mirror, and touched the cut hair. Arendi was nearly speechless, astonished at the simple transformation.
“Thank you,” she said. “It’s just...
“You don’t like?”
Arendi detected the scared tone, and saw the machine’s light flash in an uproar.
“No, no,” she said. “It’s… It’s just what I wanted.”
The barber sighed in relief, the machine voice mimicking the breathy exhale.
“Thank you,” she added, touching the back of her hair.
Just what I wanted. It even surprised herself to say the words. Arendi, however, could not deny it. Something inside her liked the way she looked. She had never felt this way before.
The machine barber pulled the sheet from her neck, as Arendi rose to stand, still surprised at the sight of herself. She was the same person, an android built to be a human. But never in her life had she thought about altering her hair, instead only wanting to hide behind the bangs and what was given to her. Somehow, just a straightforward haircut had changed the perception.
Arendi then realized. She hadn’t just meant to give the barber compliment. It was what she wanted. For once, the choice had actually been hers. She touched the sides of her hair, hoping it would remain that way. She liked the feel of it.
“Wow.”
Arendi turned and saw Julian at the barber shop’s entrance, holding two large opaque green bags at his side, both of which had been packed full.
“Your hair, it looks fantastic,” he said. “Very sleek and stylish.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
While Julian looked closer at Arendi and studied her hair, he reached for the cyber-coin in his pocket, assuming he needed to pay.
“No, no,” the drone said. “It is my pleasure. It is my duty.”
“Thank you,” Julian said, realizing that he was talking to a semi-sentient machine.
The barber, seemingly happy, looked back at Arendi.
“She is beautiful. She is your girlfriend?”
The machine put special emphasis on the word girlfriend, letting the word purr. Arendi was alarmed.
“Ah, no.” Julian said sheepishly.
“Your wife?”
“No. No,” Julian said, almost laughing.
“Then what’s the problem?”
Julian briefly glanced at Arendi, embarrassed by the confusion.
“There’s no problem. She’s just a friend. That’s all.”
“Mmmm,” the drone said dissatisfied. “Well, you should change that.”
Julian gave an awkward laugh, while Arendi watched speechless.
“Anyways, we should be going,” he interjected. “You did a wonderful job.”
They quickly left the shop, saying their goodbyes. “She is beautiful,” the drone said once more, waving its robotic arm. “So beautiful.”
Arendi was just as taken aback by the machine’s vibrant personality.
“A charming fellow,” Julian said, glad for the quick exit.
Arendi agreed, giving a quiet nod. Julian then slung the two bags over his shoulder, and held them with his hand.
“I didn’t know drones could be like that,” Julian added. “Quite friendly. And even human.”
He shrugged, walking on without a hitch. Arendi, however, thought about that statement. Why couldn’t it be, she wanted to say.
“What are you carrying?” Arendi asked instead.
He paused for a moment, and looked off at the dimming sky.
“Just some things,” Julian replied, as the objects jangled inside. “You’ll see.”
He then smiled, the excitement in his eyes.
“Soon, we’ll send them off to the stars.”
***
They had left the town behind them, and stepped foot onto sand, the surrounding beach bleached in white. Arendi had removed her shoes, just as Julian had done, and held them in her hands.
He was at her side, still holding the two bags over his shoulder. So far, he had said little, but Arendi had noticed the change. His face was looking healthier. His mannerisms more relaxed. He walked out on the beach with a grin, nodding at the structure ahead.
“Here we go,” he said. “Just a little further.”
Eventually, they reached the structure, the wooden wharf hanging over the nestled bay. The long platform was carved out of the native plants, the feathery, but strong bark a faded saffron in color. Julian walked toward the edge of the deck, and placed the two bags down. He wiped the sweat from his brow, happy that he was ready. Twilight had begun to fall, the sun close to setting. He looked up at the sky, and saw the cloud-less vista, the view open to the awakening stars above.
“Perfect timing,” he said, pulling down the cover of one of the green bags. The fabric peeled back, revealing the instrument inside.
Arendi glanced at it, and thought it looked like a lantern, tall but light enough to hold in one hand. It was framed in silver, with its five sides covered in a form of gold parchment, a collection of white stars delicately sewn into the paper. At the object’s base, was a shiny cylinder comprised of winding tubes and gears.
“It’s a star carrier,” he said, kneeling down at the object. “It’s part of a Haven ritual, to remember the departed.”
She looked closer and saw that one side was framed with a portrait. The picture it held was that of a lightly bearded man, dressed in a silver and black flight suit. She did not recognize the person, or know when it had been taken. The man flashed what seemed to be a laugh, his expression almost in a celebratory mood. Above the photo was his name. Lee Drayden, it said. Admiral, mentor, friend.
Julian pulled the rest of the bag off, and sat the carrier on the wharf’s railing. Along the base, he flicked a switch, prompting the lantern to hum.
“It’s a makeshift anti-gravity emitter,” he said. “From what I was told it should run for close to a decade. Maybe longer. I had to scavenge around for all the materials. Now it’s almost ready.”
Out of his pocket, Julian pulled out the vial, its size no larger than his index finger. Inside, contained the amber liquid he had spent so much effort to buy, the whiskey a favored drink of what was the man he had wanted to remember.
He reached into the carrier, and placed the small vial at the base, where the bottle would remain magnetized. Julian then looked at the picture of Drayden, taking his thumb to wipe off some sand from the parchment.
“He was my commanding
officer. He was a good friend. Taught me a lot.”
Julian calmly held the carrier with his two hands. But Arendi saw his face, and she could see the sadness. His eyes lingered on the picture, before he closed them in a brief moment of silence. Julian then pressed the switch once more, the anti-gravity emitter fully igniting. The central base now glowed in a sparkling white, the carrier coming to life. It buoyed in his arms, ready to take off.
He nearly lost his grip on it, when Arendi reached out to carefully hold down one of the sides.
“Thanks,” he said. As Arendi held on, Julian took one last look at the portrait.
“Gray Squadron will always live on.”
Julian then let go, Arendi’s hand pulling back. The carrier, glowing brighter, floated on like a helium balloon, almost bouncing in the air, before making a steady path upward. It slowly spun on its base, becoming a light in the soon-to-be night sky. Arendi watched, as Julian opened the remaining bag. He revealed another carrier, nearly identical to the other. The only difference being the portrait it held.
Arendi looked down and saw the person, the picture more formal than the other. It was a simple head shot of a woman dressed in a blue uniform. She appeared serious and expressionless, her right hand in a salute at her brow. But Julian touched the picture with his two fingers, and smiled. He was almost about to laugh.
Nalia Kynestar, the carrier read, Savior.
From the bag, he pulled a glass box that contained the bud of a fresh orange flower. Like he did with the vial, he placed the object inside the carrier and sealed it shut.
It was ready to launch, fully built and charged. In the days before, Julian had repaired seven transports, helped recycle a pair of power inverters, and made several deliveries with the Au-O’sanah, picking up the spare credits to make what he now held. At first, it had just been a side-project, the priority low and inconsequential to what he knew were the bigger matters at hand. But very quickly, he found himself accumulating the materials, buying the needed components and reaching closer to his goal.
It had been a labor love, the carrier finally finished in his hands. Before Julian sent it off, he found himself hesitant. He could not pull his eyes away from the portrait, the memories resurfacing. Julian did not want to let go.
Arendi saw his gaze. He was visibly moved, his other hand wiping his eyes. She stared at him, and imagined the sorrow. She wanted to reach out.
“It’s okay,” Julian said in a whisper to himself. “It’s time.”
With two presses, he charged the carrier’s emitter, and gently let go. As it slowly turned to ascend, Julian cheered, taking one last glance at the woman he had wanted to remember.
“Fly,” he said. “Just fly.”
Then it was gone, rising into the air, radiating in warmth. Julian wanted to follow it. But all he could do was lean forward, and place his hands on the wharf’s railing to watch as the two lanterns crossed over the sea.
Arendi felt the passing wind ruffle her hair, and saw the gust push the carriers toward the south and into the direction of the declining sun. She joined Julian, and leaned on the railing, noticing that dozens of stars had begun to emerge.
Beautiful, she wanted to say. Throughout the whole day, Arendi has seen things she had never encountered before. Again, she was in awe of the view.
Arendi glanced over at Julian, and saw him reach for the collar of his jacket. With his fingers, he rubbed the shard of metal, the symbol shaped in the form of a wing.
“Nalia.” he said, watching the carriers in the distance. “She told me to live. To just live. They both did.”
He breathed in hard, before blowing the air out from his cheeks. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and slumped in his posture, the weight falling from his shoulders.
“I hope I can. I guess I can’t give up.”
He stood back from the railing, thinking to himself. It was a personal, and intimate moment. And yet strangely, Julian had been willing to share it with her.
She looked up at the two lanterns in the distance, and found them almost out of view. They continued on, unabated. The roaming pair of lights reaching higher toward the field of stars.
There they would stay, becoming one with the heavens.
Julian then looked up at the sky and raised his hand in a salute.
“Goodbye,” he said. “I won’t forget.”
Chapter 47
As they left the wharf, Arendi could hear the shouting in the distance. A man had arrived at the beach, moving like a lurking shadow, but kicking sand with almost every step. He staggered along, moaning and then yelling, the curses growing louder.
“Fuck the Alliance!” he yelled, clenching his fist. “Fuck them. Fuck everything!”
Stuttering back and forth, the man walked in a daze, entirely directionless. Incidentally, he was approaching close to the surrounding waters, shirtless; his body was doused in sweat.
“The Alliance,” he spat. “The Hegemony...What did they do...? They’re nothing. They’re useless!”
She knew it was the voice of a human. But when Arendi saw the man closer, she was disturbed by his physical appearance. His skin was a chalk white, his hair like strands of silk. She thought that maybe he was in his 30s, but frankly, Arendi couldn’t quite tell; his body was so thin, his movements slow and sickly.
The man was clearly disturbed, grinding his teeth, tightening his fists, and staring down at the ground.
“What is he doing?” Arendi said alarmed. “Is there something wrong?”
The stranger was breathing louder, like he was about to burst into a bout rage. He weakly flung his fists at the air, and shouted the curses once again, using another ancient human dialect. “Cunt…” he said. “The Alliance is a fucking cunt.”
Julian, however, remained calm. He put on his shoes, walked past Arendi and motioned with her hand to stay behind. He had seen this before.
Arendi watched, as Julian ran out to the man in the sand. “Hey, it’s okay,” she overheard him saying. “It’s all right.”
The man twitched, noticing Julian was close to his side. Rather than speak, he pulled back his fist in a large arc, and took a belated, almost drunken swing.
He missed badly and nearly fell over.
“Fuck you,” the man said. “They obliterated my home. They obliterated Second Gaia!”
Arendi ran to Julian, worried. But still, he remained calm. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
The man tried to strike Julian again, but he only hit air and tripped into the sand, wrestling at his target in vain. He rustled up a torrent of dirt, screaming.
“Help me? Fuck you. No one can help us!”
It was then Arendi became aware of the man’s condition. He saw his eyes, and noticed they were completely white, almost absent of any irises. At his temples, bulged the thick purple veins, the mutated blood vessels swelling.
Covered in sand, the man stopped fighting, only to hold the sides of his head in shock. He convulsed, like he was choking on his breath.
Julian knelt down, and held the man’s shoulder tightly. “It’ll be okay,” he shouted. “Just hang on.”
Julian knew, however, that there was little he could do except watch. Arendi scanned the man, and realized he was likely blind, his body infected with some form of disease. His heart rate was climbing, his face foaming at the mouth.
Slowly, the man fell into a comatose state. His diatribe had ended, his voice descending into a disturbing moan.
Julian pulled a fist of sand, and threw it on the ground. He knelt there dejected, glancing at the man’s empty eyes.
“I’ll call a transport,” he said. “We have to take to him to the med center.”
***
The hospital was located on the other end of the island, the New Terran research facility in complete contrast to the quiet and simple town from where they came. The checkered board of argon lights shimmered off its futuristic exterior, the domed buildings encircled
by floating transports, and robotic drones. It was a large and sprawling complex, housed in several connecting centers, the advanced technologies ingrained throughout its tessellated structure.
The automated hover-transport touched down on the site, emitting smoke and blowing dust through the air. Arendi disembarked, helping Julian to carry the comatose man to the facility. As she did so, she noticed the droves of people walking under the erected lights, on a paved trail. From the elderly to even children, she saw crowds of human colonists congregating outside. Some were simply passing by, but many others had assembled to watch a gray-haired woman in protest. “Seek salvation in conversion,” she chanted. “We must demand it. It’s our only hope.”
Arendi looked at the colonists, and quickly found herself almost at a loss for words. There were hundreds of people, more than she had ever seen before. But none of them were what she had expected. Their appearances were so different from her own and that of Julian, she had to wonder. “Are these humans?” Arendi quietly asked.
To her, they looked frail, and deformed, their skin so white it seemed almost translucent and unnatural. Many more were unusually tall, inching close to seven feet, and yet walking with an awkward hunch. They shuffled along, some wearing their augmentations — the visors over the eyes, the wires attached and even bolted to their arms and legs. What had happened to them, she thought. Was this some kind of infection?
They had entered the hospital, stepping into the modern facility, the yellow light of a scan beaming over them to analyze the condition. A floating box-shaped drone then appeared, casting a pair of lights on the comatose man.
“He’s unconscious,” Julian said. “I think his mental state may be degenerating.”
