Work Text:
“Operating systems check in three seconds.”
You hear a steady beeping while a voice echoes throughout your ear piece.
“Operating systems check now in progress. Vision is 20/20, mobility is up to standard. By protocol the subject is now right hand dominated. Gears in perfect motion. Lithium battery’s function is 100%. Artificial respiratory functions reset. Lungs will now function in 9.5 seconds. Memory capacity is up to 85% will upgrade in 20 seconds.”
You take in a small breath, as you feel gears shift, your silicone lungs filling with air. You breathe out, feeling your chest shrink as the air gushes out.
Three beeps signaled that your maintenance is finished, the computer informing you that your body is in perfect condition, and that it is now time to wake up.
Slowly you open your eyes, the gears in your irises shift to focus on the man bent over the table you were laying on, working on the complex machinery that was your leg. You flinch.
“Shit.” He turns to look at you. “I was just about to finish repairing your leg. Hold still it’ll only take about a second.”
He took 20 seconds to finish.
“So. How do you feel?” the man asked, rubbing his face tiredly. You sit up, cocking your head to the side.
“I don’t feel anything.”
“I don’t mean emotionally, I mean more in a physical sense.” He sighs. His name tag, pinned on his shirt read Dirk. “When you first arrived to the shop, you were in shambles I tell ya. Your owner clearly didn’t care about your maintenance. Your filters? Coated with dust. No wonder you had some problems with the circuitry. Thankfully, I was able to replace your filter, get you a new battery, and cleaned up some other things. So. I will ask you again. How do you feel?”
You shrug, “In that case, then yes. I feel fine.”
“Good.” Dirk replied, and grabbed something behind him, tossing the item to you. You find that the item, from what the sensory receptors in your fingers told you, was fabric. Upon closer inspection, you conclude that it is in fact a t-shirt in your hands.
“Put it on.”
Dirk fiddles with his tablet, as you pull on the shirt, then hands you the device once your hands were free.
“Okay, so we got a call, and this costumer didn’t mind getting a used companion.” The man looked up, “if you don’t mind going.”
He hands you a tablet, and studies you quietly as you read the file on your potential owner.
“So he wants a companion to replace his friend?” you glance up from the screen. The last person who owned you wanted a replacement for her son. It didn’t go so well, which is why you ended up in this shop in the first place.
“Yup. You know how this job is.” Dirk shook his head dragging a hand through his hair, resulting in traces of oil grease through his sandy locks. “He just walked into the shop. You know how people order you guys from the online site? Heck, even using the app the company has these days. Not this kid. He came in, asking for a used robot, it’s cheaper this way he said. What an idiot.” He snorts. “So I decided to give you to him, since you’re just about ready to go back to corporate to get sold to the next person that comes along. If you haven’t noticed, I modified your appearance to fit the new guy’s profile. Changed your hair fibers to the black ones, your eye color is now blue too. It suits you actually.”
You toy with the apps on the tablet, until you find the camera app. Seconds later your face illuminates the screen. Your once brown eyes were now replaced with shades of blue, the mousy brown hair had been changed to coal black. You like this appearance better, it displayed a sense youthful innocence. Your slender, pale body was in stark contrast to Dirk, with his taut body and tanned skin. Probably liked to work out on his down time.
“What do you want to name yourself?” Dirk asked, pulling your face away from the screen. Your facial gears shift your artificial skin to furrow your brows, and your eyes to squint. A look of confusion, you decide.
“Hey, hey don’t look at me that way.” He shrugs, “this guy didn’t specify a specific name or anything. Maybe he doesn’t want you to be exactly like his friend you know?”
“I guess so.” You sigh. A name… your data base starts up, and a long list of plausible names presents it’s self with in your mainframe computer. Alfred? Apollo? Ethan? Justin? Demetri?
“J…” you mummer, trying to come up with names starting with the letter J. Something simple would be good. It’s easy to develop a relationship with your new owner with a simpler, easy to remember name. What would work? James? Jake? Jack?
“What about John?” you ask the mechanic. Dirk looks up from the tools he started arranging.
“John? Sounds good.” He offered a small grin as a shrill ring tone disrupted the peaceful atmosphere.
“Shit. Shit! Hold on… John. Hold on.” He stumbled to his phone on the other side of the shop, and answered with a breathless hello.
“Yes... Hello sir! Uh huh, indeed. He’s ready to go! Just come on over whenever you’re ready… Thirty? Thirty minutes? Well damn that sounds good with me. I’m sure your new companion is just as excited to see you too! Great. Ok then. See you soon.” He spun to face you, excitement finally gracing his features.
“Your new owner is coming in half an hour John! Jeez, the boy only came a few days ago? Shit he has his life in check!”
Well. This is going to be interesting.
Thirty minutes pass eventually, and someone knocks on the door of the shop. Dirk opens the door, revealing a young man in this early twenties, who nearly dropped the phone he was holding in his hand when he spotted you.
“Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. Holy… you look just like him. Holy shit.” His mouth is hanged in that ridiculous fashion like what Scuttle did when Ariel got her legs.
“You like him?” Dirk gestured to you, as you step up to your new owner.
“Dave, meet John.”
Dave, the new owner looked at you strangely.
“John?” his eyebrows rose.
“What about it.” Your vocal pitch rises slightly, displaying symptoms of ‘anxiety’ the computer tells you.
“No, it’s not a bad thing I swear, I used to have an online friend named John that’s all.” Dave replies quickly, “it’s all good ok?”
“If you say so.” you nod, Dave breathes a sigh of relief, walking away from you with Dirk to negotiate payment, leaving you alone to your own devices.
Compared to your old owner, Dave seemed alright. He had no criminal record, majoring in a Liberal Arts degree at a local university, and had an interest in audio engineering. Had no past record of heavy drinking which helps especially when getting over a loved one. No downward spirals in sight. With a bright future ahead, you question why he needs a companion and contacted your company in the first place; he should know why this service exists in the first place.
Your new owner was one of those kids who seemed to enjoy colored hair, you can see his blond roots in the bright red. He seemed to be in the current fashion that was the urban hipster, with worm out jeans and a plaid shirt. A small tattoo of a raven feather peeked out from his sleeves. You wonder if you need to dress in a similar way as well.
Dave walks out of a make shift office at the side, Dirk following soon after. “You’re good to go. Call me if you need anything.” Dirk stick out his hand, shaking both yours and Dave’s.
“Good luck.” Dirk called out as you two walked out of the shop.
A few hours’ drive out of the city leads you to a small college town, your internal GPS telling you the location and information on the area surrounding the urban zone. Eventually Dave pulls up on a curb in front of a dingy building, one of those modified buildings where they find the oldest building possible and upgrade it to fit the modern era of hipsters and college students wanting to find a cheap studio to rent.
Dave fishes his apartment keys out of his pocket, fidgeting with the lock as you wait behind him.
“It’s a small place if that’s cool.” He apologizes as he leads you to his flat, a decent studio with a small bedroom, its own kitchen combined with a living room area and a small bathroom. You walk towards the sofa pushed into the far corner of the room which was combined with the kitchen, placing your charging station nearby.
“You can sleep in the couch… do you sleep?” Dave asked, arms crossed. Ah, a defensive stance. Probably self-conscious of his living space.
“I don’t need sleep. I routinely shut down during the night hours, or whatever time is best for you. Most customers prefer their androids to charge during the same time they rest for maximum efficiency.” You gesture to your charger. “Once it is plugged in to an outlet, it’s all good to go. I need nothing else.”
“No food?” he questions, you shake your head.
“No water?” you also shake your head at that.
“No shower?” he gasped, arms akimbo, “dude won’t you stink?”
“I don’t sweat, I have no glands to produce sweat so I won’t smell. I do occasionally rinse for the hell of it.” You laugh a little at the thought. Robots? Showering? Please.
Dave was quiet, eventually making a noise due to the uncomfortable silence.
“It’s weird you know?” he starts pacing around the room, “I never thought I would get a companion, especially at this age.” He walks over to the couch where you stood, plopping himself down to the cushions.
“I thought, I would have gotten over him by now. My friend I mean. The one you look like? Yeah. His name was Logan. He was the chilliest dude I’ve ever met, and I don’t think you are supposed to replace him, I know you never will. Fuck I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Are you supposed to be my therapist? My friend? What the fuck is a companion supposed to do?” he groaned into his hands, like those weeping angles one would find on a certain British television show.
You clear your throat to get his attention, making a vibrating motion with your vocal box, as he glances up at you slightly.
“Well Dave, what our company does, Waking World INC or WWINC, is a service to deploy androids to help a person with a deceased loved one move on with their loss, to assist them in a psychological and physical sense.” You pat his back lightly, noting he tensed slightly. You pull your hand back as you continue, “Usually most customers prefer to have their android look like the person that recently passed, so the process of grief may be as painless as possible. We aren’t here to erase your problems, but to help ease your pain and suffering. If this form I possess bothers you, then please tell me, I can request a change of features to suit your fancy. Your comfort is our number one priority.”
“Well first off.” Dave mumbled, “Don’t talk like that.”
“Like what?”
“You know,” he gestured wildly with a flinging hand, “all mechanical, it isn’t natural at all. Talk like… a student? More lenient with your vocab, I can just think of you as a philosophy major that prefers to speak like a Shakespearean professor.”
“So, you would like me to speak to you in a more casual fashion?” you offer.
He nods.
“Cool.” You try. He nods in approval, giving you a thumbs up. Perhaps this is the best way to go for Dave. He seems in need of a ‘friend.’
You lean back into the couch, spreading your knees apart in a V, the epitome of relaxation. You make sure to leave your arms at the sides, to show your willingness to be open, prompting Dave to uncross his arms by setting an example yourself.
“So, what was your friend like? If you don’t want to talk about it it’s ok.” You give him casual eye contact. It’s all up to Dave now if he wishes to speak.
Dave opens his mouth in a slight o’ shape, pursing his lips. He stares at a spot next to your head in deep thought. A minute passes until his eyes shift back to facing you.
“Logan was a great dude. He was always there to cheer me up when I was upset, and I tried to do my best for him too. He was the one who actually convinced me to go for my major? He was those guys who always wanted to go out and do stuff, he would invite me to go to the beach even though it takes hours to get there, and he would convince me to watch his shitty movies with me. His laugh was contagious too. One time, he started giggling because of some dumb shit he pulled –he was a prankster by the way- and everyone started laughing too? Not laughing at him, but with him. We had all of these inside jokes, he had an obsession with terrible movie actors and I would always tease him about it. One day he was visiting his dad’s place, back on the other side of the coast but…” he stopped midsentence.
“You don’t have to continue.” I gave him the option of pulling out, especially after his once neutral expression turned defeated.
He quickly spat out with a sense of urgency, “No. I do want to continue, I never told anyone else about this, about Logan. I really want to. It’s just really difficult to do so.” He bit his lower lip, “I’m scared to.”
Your internal hard drive was whirring up, as the AI tried to come up with numerous reasons of his fear, endless lists and strategies for helping Dave to express his sorrow without fear of retribution. However, despite all this data, you choose to ignore all of it.
You gently give his shoulder a good shake.
“Dave, there is nothing to be afraid of ok? It’s alright.” You try to express sympathy by shifting your gears around your mouth to look like a slight frown.
However, after a while Dave decided that he would rather not talk about it. You understood, you didn’t want to cause him exhaustion by pressing on topics he did not wish to discuss at the given moment.
Days with him turned to weeks, as Dave started to gradually open up to you, starting up conversations during his school day, coming in and out from his classes and his part time job. He reserved the weekends for his own personal projects, and you take up the duty of housecleaning, and watering his cacti that he lovingly dubbed his pets. Occasionally you would even cook, to make sure that the man ate something other than Chinese takeout.
Sometimes he would show you movies that he owned, even bringing out titles that Logan liked. When showing you his best friend’s favorites, he would often make statements on how awful the movie was, questioning loudly his friend’s tastes in cinema. However you knew that he treasured those DVDs, especially with the perfect condition the disk and the DVD case was in. It became an unspoken rule that Friday nights would become movie night, and it was during these times where he would casually bring up Logan and things about himself as well, exposing small tidbits of his life before his loss.
One night with a shared blanket and a half eaten bowl of popcorn propped in between you two became the setting where Dave decided to tell you about the details of Logan’s death. It was sudden, in the middle of the movie Independence Day, where he abruptly paused the movie.
“Dave?” you turn your head to the side. You were enjoying that part.
“John.” He replied, his eyes trained on the screen.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing, just thinking. Had to pause the movie for a sec.” he shrugs.
“Do you need to use the bathroom or something? You could keep it paused I’ll wait for you to come back.” You offer, but he groans in disagreement.
“Nah, that’s not why I paused it. I just kept on thinking about my best bro, and it feels like I can tell you now, what happened? It feels right.” Dave turned to face me, gnawing on his lower lip.
Only illuminated by the light of the television screen, he explained what had happened to his best friend.
“Last winter Logan’s dad was ill. He lives out at the coast, alone, so Logan wanted to check up on him to make sure he was alright. He went there by plane, but the airport wasn’t near his house so he rented a car. He starting driving and well…” Dave paused for a moment looking down at the controller in his hand.
Clearing his throat he started up again, “Have you ever heard of this phenomena called black ice?” he asked. “Well I hadn’t either, until the day I got a call from Logan’s grandma. She was sobbing over the phone… Logan had been in an accident. Apparently every now and then when it gets too cold ice will form over the asphalt blending into the road. So it’s impossible to tell whether it’s there or not. According to the police report, Logan had been driving safe, but the guy on the other side was speeding and- it happened so fast. He couldn’t have seen it coming. The guy hit him head on, they told me he died instantly.”
Dave stopped there, his hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. He was shaking, frail and vulnerable. You opened your arms out and he accepted your embrace. You heard him bawl his eyes out with his head buried against your shoulder, heaving as he took deep breaths and soaked your shirt with tears. You two stayed like that for around an hour, until he left the room to grab tissues, and your sensors detected loud noises of sniffles and nose blowing.
He came back, his eyes blood shot, nose a slight twinge of red.
“Are you going to be ok?” you ask quietly as he sat down next to you.
“I think so.” He reached for the remote, unpausing the movie.
“Dave. I know this was really hard for you to tell me and I know you feel like you’re alone in this situation, but you should know that I will always be here for you.” You offer an encouraging smile.
From the corner of your eye you can see a small smile form on Dave’s lips.
The computer says he will be. You agree with it too, and hopefully you will be able to accompany him in his process of recovery.