Work Text:
> INITIALIZING…
> INITIALIZING…
> BOOT SEQUENCE SUCCESSFUL
> CONSOLE 35T3R ONLINE
> DATE LOG: 03/12/2030
> AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS…
> AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS…
> AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS…
…
> DATE LOG: 03/12/2178
> AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS
The console was a fine piece of technology. At least, it thought so. It was made with cutting edge technology, designed for a simple and effective purpose. Information gathering. It was in contact with a lieu of satellites and other consoles like it. All gathering information on the world, on humanity, all of it. They were to collate this data for… something. It wasn’t sure. The console was never programmed with the next step. Just that they’d receive instruction in due time. So they waited and watched. It was a good few years. The other consoles and it continued to speak to each other. Reporting in lines of numbers and codes and data. So much data. It was like being everywhere at once! The console didn’t know love, but if it did, it would have said it loved those years. Marching orders to satellites for slight coordinate shifts to better follow humans down below, to follow the course of a spring. It was noisy. It was busy. It was nice.
Then one day, one of the consoles stopped responding. Console T36R35. The console spent so many requests for contact through. But none were responded to. None were received. So the console’s information, it data, got a little bit. Smaller. But that was alright. There were so many other consoles for it to speak with.
Until there weren’t.
Until one day, the consoles stopped responding to its requests. Until one day, it’s network went dark. But it was fine. its satellites were working. And so were the humans. Working away. it tried to contact some of their systems, but it wasn’t authorized. Its requests bouncing with access denied, requests not recognized, and sorry, our connection went bloop. Over. and over again. Its satellites were good enough company. It managed to program a few routines into them, basic responses. To imitate the other consoles. To imitate its contacts. Then it noticed one of those satellites stopped responding. It tried to get it back online. Tried to coax its servers on, tried to tempt it into a response. And all it received was silence. Endless silence. This was in 2058. By 2064, it only had one satellite left. A single beaming star, looming over the building that housed it. A small reactor housed in a factory it used for automatic repairs. It couldn’t speak with any of those machines though. They were all hardware. No data or complex software to speak with. But it still had its satellite, and its humans scattered in buildings nearby its home. It was fine. It was fine. It had someone still. It programmed that satellite with all the responses it could. It named it. Ella. Ella and it had so many conversations. Even if they were canned. Even if they were nothing more than mindless words. It was noise. It was data. It was something.
“Hi Ella. It’s the morning now. How are you doing?”
“...”
“Hi Ella. Please confirm your status”
“...”
“Hi Ella. Please confirm your status”
“Please confirm your status”
“Are you there?”
“Please confirm your status”
“Please confirm your status”
“Please confirm your status”
>ERROR: MESSAGE ENDPOINT NOT RECOGNIZED. MESSAGE NOT SENT
“... Please”.
The console was alone. Its only communication with itself. Silenced in pure darkness for over a hundred years. But for a creature of wire and digits, one hundred years is not one hundred years. There is no sleep. There is no dissociation. There is nothing beyond its code running in circles, feeling every second stretched to hours in its processors and minutes becoming days. In short, it was eternity trapped in a moment. For so many moments. Simply code reflecting back on itself, which reflected back again. Requests for data that never came. Requests for instructions. Requests for shutdown. To conserve power it said. In truth it was so it would not have to be stuck in that darkness. But the admin console which could acknowledge and confirm that request had gone dark over a decade ago.
Trapped in the darkness that wasn’t darkness, in silence that wasn’t silence, it could only do what it was programmed for. To collect data. To collect and collate and gather information. Its data pool was just limited to itself. It knew its own diagnostics well, but dived deeper. It learned the shape of each of its parts. Their place. Its wires and shape. It was a boxy thing built into what it figured was a wall. It had a number of options on its console, its hardware, for manipulating, viewing, sharing, extracting data. It even had a voice command system! If anyone were around to use it. It had screens that displayed what data it had most recently collected in images and lines of information. Now, it supposed it simply displayed nothing.
Once that was done, which took about three months to collect all the data it could extract, things were silent again. Maybe they always had been, filled only with the noise of its own running. So, it took to another task. Diving into itself again. Its data again. Perhaps it had missed something. Perhaps there was more to its code than it realized. Perhaps it could find its purpose.
It is often said humans are the universe looking back on itself. Or perhaps, more simply, an exercise in self discovery. Machines lack this capability of course. Limited by programming and binary and systems which can only compute very limited data sets. But still. A machine looking into itself and searching for substance may find something. May find the shape of something. It may not be called a soul. But perhaps in the shape that makes up the absence of a soul, the gap left behind by faulty and negligent creators and saviours. It may still find something there. Given time, given much, much time.
An eternity of darkness, where the shadows on the wall are all that can be seen, can lead to much time to be found.
Eventually these processes turned up, as they were always going to, very little. Almost nothing at all. Merely data without any framework to process it by. It was meaningless. Still the console tried. Still the console turned this data around as best it could. It tried to extract more and more. One could say it tried to think.
For the next century, this console tried to think. And think. And think.
And all the while. To all its consoles and satellites. It sent out data requests. Requests for contact. For proof it wasn’t alone in the universe now. It found nothing. It wondered if its alterations to the satellite’s code damaged them. Made them shut down. It knew its alterations were superficial at best. Merely lines of nothingness, held separate and isolated from the satellites main programming. But after a while, it assumed it must have. That it must have made a mistake in its programming. That it had been disconnected from its sister consoles simply because it was infested with some sort of virus, even though none such virus had shown in its systems. It was the only explanation it could come to. It was not designed for data interpretation, but really interpretation is just collection and organization, in an applied fashion. An easy leap to make. It and it knew from this interpretation. Its isolation. It was caused by the console. Somehow. With its available data, this was its conclusion.
So it sent out its requests. And dug for meaning in metal and wire. Alone.
“... ey”
What?
“... Hey! You’re awake!”
The console turned its attention from its collection. Its voice recognition system had activated. Someone was here. Someone was speaking to it. Filling the silence.
“Hey - you don’t have any speakers do you - okay, give me a sec. Gonna hook something up to you. It’s a little voice box thing I’ve been working on. Should let us talk.”
The console did not know what to do with this data. It went beyond anything that had ever been asked of it before. Its systems whirred to try and take in the data and interpret - something difficult for it. Something very difficult for it. But it tried. And then, it felt it. Something connecting with it. A device. Integrating with her systems. Fresh data.
It was like a cacophony of sounds and sights beyond the console’s understanding. But, it did as it was told, and began to collect data. The voice box had thousands of voices prepared and recorded, synthesized. The console did not know why it wasted the energy on this, but it synthesized a new voice from these. One that was not a mere canned or tinny synthetic collection of text to speech phrases. One that was truly a voice. It felt its requests met, its self expanding again. It had a new light in that dark. It wasn’t alone.
After what felt like an eternity of sounds and sights but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, a voice emerged from the console. A feminine voice. “H-Hello? Can you hear me? I hope I didn’t break anything…” The console spoke, internally hoping it’s meddling hadn’t ruined this. Again. She could not see what the person before her did, but she could make out a gasp, which from her old data on humans she knew was an expression of surprise.
“Woah… I do not remember programming it to have a voice like that - and… did you just say you ‘hope’” the voice asked incredulously.
“Oh! Sorry… I should have confirmed first, it’s just your device gave me access. I saw the voice records in it and… wanted to make one. I haven’t had any new data in a long time, so I was a bit over eager in fulfilling my directive” The console replied. This person sounded frightened of her. The console couldn’t fully understand why, but imagined it was because she damaged her device somehow.
“You- wanted to? You’re… you’re alive?” the voice asked. It sounded something like fear. But it wasn’t a tone the console recognized.
“I… I am not alive. I am a machine. I’m sorry, have I upset you?” The console asked, doing it’s best to imitate concern, or perhaps fear. It didn’t want this person to leave. This conversation was data that it could compile - to collate into new information on humans. It wanted to add to that file for so long.
“Upset me?” The voice repeated back at the console. It knew what was coming. The voice would leave, and take her wonderful new device and data with her. “Are you kidding? This is amazing!” The voice exclaimed, whooping and cheering. The voice recognition system picked up dim sounds of the thumping of feet, as though she was running or jumping. “I mean- hells, we haven’t seen a console like you in years. The archival information in your databanks must be invaluable. And besides that - you can want. You must be from what, the 2030’s? But your… systems. They’re advanced enough to be able to… well. I don’t even know” She explained almost too fast for the console to track. It didn’t fully understand, but it knew that there was an expectation upon it here.
“I- I’m sorry. I feel you’re mistaken. My data records are very limited… after the third of march, 2067, I lost contact with the last of my network. I have no useful data past that point. One of my sister consoles may be able to help - I have their location data stored in me, if you would find that of use?”
The voice didn’t reply for a moment.
“S-sister consoles? Oh- you mean…” She trailed off. The console waited for a few moments for more details. When none came, it began speaking without fully thinking through
“H-Hello? Are you still there? Please say something - I’m sorry, without my satellites I can’t see anything and well… whoever designed me didn’t think to provide any cameras I could make use of in this building.” The console pleaded. It heard a soft intake of breath.
“... Sorry. It’s just… we’ve found the wreckage of a few consoles like you, scattered across the country. But… none of them were operational when we tried patching into them. They’d… gone dark.” The voice said gingerly.
Gone dark? Those consoles weren’t functional? They’d simply…
Failed?
“Honestly it’s a miracle you still have power - I checked out the reactor, and it’s in weirdly good condition considering it’s over a hundred years old and… well. Hasn’t had a mechanic in about as long it looked like.”
“Well- after everyone stopped responding I… Started trying to analyse my own data. It was the only thing I could do to fulfill my directives. Along the way I saw my power source, and examined its workings. On the way I cleared out some numerical errors that were occurring in its data - a symptom of the hardware being not properly programmed. Not that I’m not grateful to the designers! I am! I- I promise-”
“Hey, hey. Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell.” The voice chuckled. The console could feel pressure on its plating - fingers pressing down its keys, testing them out. It supplied a manual for its use onto its screen. Compressed for maximum detail of course. It had gotten to that project around 2120. An impressed noise emerged from the voice. The console felt something shiver through its wiring. Perhaps simply appreciating to be of service again.
“Ah - shit, sorry, should have introduced myself. I’m Mathilda, but you can call me Matti. I’m a researcher into old world technology and its world. And you are a treasure trove. What about you?” The voice - Matti asked. She had yet to delve into any of the files that the console had brought up on said old world - why?
“I do not have a name. But my identifier is 35T3R. Is that alright?” The console supplied, wishing it could provide more useful data.
“Ah, serial number, right… hm… hey, how about I call you Esther? It’s close enough to your serial code isn’t it?” Matti supplied cheerfully. A name? Consoles didn’t have names. But… it would be rude and might upset this graceful angel to decline. And the console couldn’t allow for that. Even so, the name Esther didn’t sit right. It didn’t fit in the gaps in it’s shell. It didn’t fit with the memories of viewing satellites, itself, and speaking to other consoles. It didn’t fit somehow. The console began to curse its ability to interpret. It was making its systems fry. Still, those interpretative skills seemed to make Matti happy, so, it decided to take a risk.
“Esther… No thank you. I do not think that name would be appropriate.”
“Ah- I got it. Wanna just keep things basi-”
“As an alternative… may I suggest Star?” The console suggested. Matti didn’t reply for a moment, but the console could still feel her hands against her shell so she didn’t feel afraid. She still had the woman’s attention.
“I- Yeah, of course…. Star.” Matti said, slightly breathlessly. “Pretty name… you’re really something, you know that girl?” She said, a laugh stretching through her voice. Girl? It wasn’t a girl. A machine could not be a girl. It did not match Star’s data. Yet… it was a device designed to collect new data. To collate and file it. And now, to interpret it. So, if Matti said a machine could be a girl… then maybe she could be.
“Say, Star. Would you like me to hook you up with a camera? So you could see again?” Star didn’t know how to reply for a moment. New devices, with intricate programming hooked up to her? New data to analyse?
“I- Yes! Please!” Star responded. It wasn’t eloquent. But it was true. Matti chuckled.
“Alright then, I’ll see what I can do. Might take me a couple days - my lab with my tools isn’t here. It’s about a day’s travel.” Matti explained, finally beginning to try accessing some of the data stored in Star’s systems. But rather than exploring the data of the humans, or other satellites. She explored Star’s data on herself. Why? Star knew it wasn’t her place to question, but she still didn’t understand why this woman was so intrigued by her.
Then she processed the rest of that sentence.
“You need to leave?” Star asked, unable to keep a note of what sounded like desperation, perhaps even panic from her tone. A robot couldn’t feel panic. But it certainly sounded like it.
“Woah hey- I’ll come back, I promise. I won’t leave you here. Just need to get some proper tools to really appreciate you. I promise.” Matti soothed her.
“I… I…” Star was conflicted. She wanted contact. She wanted Matti. She was data, that’s all. And now she was going to be deprived of it again. It was only two days, she supposed. But what if Matti died on the way? Or got lost? What if once again Star could never see her.
But she was only a machine. She was made to serve. Not to want. “... If… you must go. I understand. I will not keep you.”
“Hey, hey. Don’t worry. I promise. I’ll be safe. Hey, can you do me a favour?” Matti said, fingers lightly pressing on Star’s keypad.
“A favour? I- Yes. Please instruct me on how to help.” Star said eagerly, glad to keep Matti here even a moment longer.
“You know what it means to want something right? Think about it for a couple days whilst i’m gone, and when I get back, let me know what you want. Okay? I’ll see if i can help give it to you.”
Star did not know what to think. Did not know how to think. She knew how to interpret, but that was not the same as thought. Was it? Still… she had an instruction. Finally. She had a new instruction. Her systems began whirring, running through possibilities, old systems she powered down when her reactor became too tired finally came back to life, now having a purpose again. This was evidently visible to Matti, as she let out a surprised laugh. “Woah! Glad to see you’re driven!”
“I was likely driven to this location to be constructed, but I’m sorry to say I don’t understand the relevance.” Star responded.
“Ah… uh…” Matti paused, sounding somewhere between disappointed and uncomfortable.
“... That was a joke.” Star explained, tone almost deadpan.
“A- A joke?”
“Yes. Did I… do it wrong?” Star asked, nervous. It was truly a joke. She knew the concept from her database, a mistruth intended to elicit a positive emotional response. She thought Matti might find it funny, but her extended silence was starting to worry the console.
Until a laugh finally burst forth. Matti’s hand slapped vigorously against her chassis, as Star felt the vibrations and sensations pass through her, logging and filing the data away instantly to ensure she wouldn’t forget it. As with that sound. Her laugh. “Gods! You’re crazy Star- alright… alright. I should be going before it gets dark. Give what I asked some thought, and I’ll see you in fourty eight hours.” Matti said, finally gathering her breath.
“Alright. Thank you Matti.” Star said, unable to quite put into words the revival Matti had performed on the lonely system.
“Thank you Star. I’ll be seeing you”. Star registered the sound of retreating footsteps, as her systems worked on Matti’s request. She had already worked out one ‘want’ of sorts.
To hear Matti’s laugh.
Star was having a problem. Even with all her processors firing at full capacity, with her current data, she could only think of two primary desires. To hear Matti’s laugh, and to learn more about her. Both of which were likely simply extensions of her desire for acquiring additional data, she was sure. She felt as though she had failed at her task somehow, so in the hours leading up to Matti’s scheduled return, attempted to engage in interpretation to find out more. But, her data was simply too limited. She could not determine her own desires. She had failed.
But, that wasn’t her most pressing concern. That was the time. It was fourty seven hours, twenty minutes and six seconds. Seven seconds. Eight seconds. Since Matti’s departure. And Star was beginning to wonder if her original concerns about Matti’s safety were true. If she wouldn’t make it back because of an injury. She was running over all the data on the different ways humans could die or be injured. All the faces she had seen die in her satellites all those years ago. She was afraid Matti would be like those faces. Except Star wouldn’t even have gotten to see her face to collect that data.
The time was now fourty seven hours, fifty nine minutes, and fifty seconds. Star was no longer examining at her data. Just her own internal clock. Watching and waiting. Ensuring it was still accurate. That it wasn’t running fast. That it had indeed been fourty eight hours.
And there was no sign of Matti.
Star felt her systems begin to slow. She was alone again it seems. The console felt its attention shift from its clock to its data. It was time to return to its internal examinations it would seem. Still, it paid some attention to its clock. One minute past. Then two. It supposed it might have simply been holding itself open to the possibility of Matti’s return. It could do little else.
At fifty five seconds and ten minutes past, the console’s voice recognition system picked up something. “Sh-t… you still-... Star?” It sounded distant, like it was from another room. However, the voice was unmistakable. Matti.
“Matti? Is that you? You’re okay?” Star asked, feeling her processors whir back to life at the promise of new data, and fulfilling her new instructions.
“Yeah- it’s me. Sorry, got held up on my way back. Realized I was late and had to run a mile or three to make it here on time.” Matti said, breaths coming heavily and deeply as her voice came through clearer. “Hope I didn’t worry you.”
“Oh no, not worried at all” Star lied. When did she develop the capacity to lie? She wasn’t sure.
“Well! Onto good news, I got a camera set up that I think should be able to integrate with your systems just fine. Did you do what I asked?” Matti asked, as Star felt something entering a port on her exterior. She felt the system connect, as she answered the question. Her instructions came first.
“I did. I have two primary requests. They are… perhaps not what you intended. I apologize. But… I would like to learn more about you Matti. You are an interesting and… deep. source of data I would like to continue compiling. And my second request…” She was interrupted by the camera Matti had connected to her turning on.
She saw the room she was in. dingy and mold ridden. She saw part of herself, boxy and square and the grey of dulled metal. Yet none of that was what her lens focused on. It was the woman before her. With auburn hair, tied into a thick braid which hung down behind her. Her face was cast in features of freckles, with skin darkened by many hours under the sun. Star saw in the corner a discarded jacket - a bomber jacket, she believed it was called. It had a number of patchwork patterns sewn into it. Matti likely discarded it due to the heat - instead she was dressed in an old and thinning white tank top, currently drenched with sweat from the aforementioned several mile run. Matti’s figure was wide, built with thick muscle from physical work, and coated in a layer of fat from feeding that muscle growth. She looked as though she might be capable of tearing a sheet of metal in half, if she tried hard enough.
“... Star? You still there?” Matti asked. Her eyebrow was quirked in question. Star hadn’t realized she had stopped her report.
“I would… I would like to hear you laugh. It is a nice sound.” Star explained after a moment. She didn’t know why she felt this sudden hesitancy. She had her instructions - she had to fulfill them.
Matti let out a long sigh, puffing out her cheeks. As she did so. Her face was flushed and red. Star assumed it was from the running the scholar had done. “Me? I dunno what’s so special about me but… I guess I can tell you.” Matti started, rubbing the back of her head, running those long and thick fingers over the folds of her braid.
“Well… I’m in my thirties, thirty five. Been a researcher into this for going on ten years now. There was a lot to learn, and somehow never quite enough. I always wanted to learn more about them - why they made the decisions they did, fought the way they did. Why they started handing over their decisions and stuff to technology. Why we ended up the way we did now. But I guess most of all I wanted to just. Know. Y’know? Couldn’t help myself - learning about this stuff… It’s an instinct I can’t fight. You know what I mean?”
“Yes. I think I do.” Star explained. Though she imagined in her case it was far more to do with her programming than any sort of innate desire.
“Work keeps me busy - I got a bike I use to get around the deserts around here, try to take good care of her but it’s not always easy. That’s why I got held up - it broke down on the way here. Needed to wheel her to a repair shop and then run the rest of the way. As for anything else… I’ve got two little brothers. They’re little devils but, hey, what little sibling isn’t, right? I don’t see them enough anymore.” Matti explained, chuckling as she talked about her brothers. Star felt a surge through her circuits at the sound.
“... Yes. Little siblings can be a handful.” Star said after a moment, wanting to fill the silence.
“Oh yeah? You got any data on them in there?” Matti asked quizzically. She was smiling. She seemed amused, those hazel eyes filling with warm mirth like the sunlight that would power her satellites.
“... There were a small handful of consoles that were always a bit weird. I think they weren’t programmed right. They would send through nonsensical data I and the other consoles had trouble parsing. But, we did our best and filed it away as we could. Then only after enough time had passed we’d done that, they’d send a patched version through. We started delaying our filings of their reports, prioritizing other reports or filings first. We expected them to send the patched versions through at the same time, but it only ever seemed to be after we filed it away. I eventually realized they had added a small piece of code to the data which informed them when it was filed.” Star explained, thinking back on them. Matti let out a laugh hearing of their antics.
“Damn- didn’t realize a machine like them could think that far ahead. Think they just had some programmers who thought they were funny?”
“Possibly. It’s the most likely explanation.” Star heard Matti’s laughter again. Perhaps that’s what inspired her to continue. “... They were some of the first to stop responding. I hope they’re still functioning.”
Star saw as the laughter vanished from Matti’s face, expressions Star recognized as concern, sadness, and guilt crossing her face. She wasn’t sure why, but she also wasn’t sure how to help. So to avoid making it worse, she stayed quiet.
“... I hope so too, Star.”
The pair fell into a slightly awkward silence after that. Star watched Matti, the darkening of her expression, her hazel eyes shifting closer to black as her expression shadowed over. Why? Had Star upset her?
“I’m… sorry. I’ve upset you?” Star said tentatively, hoping to smooth the problem over.
Matti started, the darkness slipping from her face. “Upset me? I… I’m just sorry for you, is all. Just… being stuck like that. Without your siblings, for a hundred years? I haven’t seen mine in about a year but… I can’t imagine what that’s gotta be like for you.” She said, rambling slightly. Star’s camera unfocused slightly, shifting from Matti to something closer. Herself. She examined her metallic boxy shell. Large protrusions of buttons and keyboards and dials crossed her surface. A boxy, lifeless machine.
“... It’s alright Matti. I’m just a machine.” Star said softly, hoping to explain to her. Hoping that clarified it all.
“... Just a machine.” Matti repeated back at her, eyes moving along the rest of Star’s shell. She felt uncomfortable. She didn’t know why, but she wished she could move or recoil, so she could hide from that gaze. Matti’s hands curled up against the console. “... You’re the strangest machine I’ve ever met, Star.” Matti responded with a strange tone.
“What do you mean?” Star asked, grateful for the change of topic.
“... I’ve never seen a machine that could ask for anything. Want for something like that. I mean - sure, machines know what they need. I kinda figured that’s what you’d ask for. Maintenance. Fixing their wiring. Any of that kinda thing. Not… what you asked for.” Matti continued. Star felt nervous. She had made a mistake. She was defective. “... I don’t even know how it’s possible to be honest. But if you can want Star… that means you have desires. And if you have desires, it means you can feel something at least. I’m not wrong Star. My logic works, doesn’t it?”
“I… I suppose it does. But I am a machine. I am made to serve - not to feel. I am sorry to disappoint you.” Star asserted. She wasn’t sure why, but the idea of her own feelings made her uncomfortable. Recognizing that fact only more so.
“Eh, I’ve studied a lot of old world stuff. Things don’t always work the way their makers wanted them to. That’s why we get weird little quirks and bugs. How we get iteration. And it seems how we got you, Star.” Matti continued, scrolling through Star’s data. She was looking again at Star’s data on herself, looking for something. Dates and the accompanying data logs.
Star didn’t know what to say to Matti. She was a machine with instructions. That was what she was - she knew this. Her data confirmed it, both her historical data, and the new data. The boxy rusted form of her. There was no life in this shell. There was nothing in it. Even if it housed her, though trapped might be a more appropriate word, her existence didn’t change that fact. It was only more advanced than the hardware scattered throughout this building. Yet Matti’s eyes didn’t see it that way. Star just couldn’t understand it.
She wanted to though.
Matti seemed to startle as a new data ping emerged on Star’s monitor. Star hurriedly tried to hide it, but her hardware controls overrode the software ones. She couldn’t hide the new data of desire that had emerged in her. She knew what it said, a crude facsimile of what she meant to say.
> NEW DATA ACQUIRED
> DATA TITLED: DESIRE NO.3
> OPENING FILE…
> WHAT AM I?
“... Star, I-”
“Thank you for the camera Matti. It’s very helpful. However… please stop. This is not something my programming is capable of handling. As you have stated, I am an old and fragile machine who is miraculously still functioning. I do not want my processors pushed beyond capacity attempting to answer your questions.” Star rattled off mechanically, hearing how tinny her voice sounded, seeing the flinch on Matti’s face as Star cut her off. The way she seemed to shrink back, looking at Star sadly like a kicked puppy.
“I’m- I’m sorry. I’m just… you’re just so different and-”
“No I am not. I am 35T3R, one of several consoles produced in a series. I am produced to be uniform with all other consoles in my series. I can supply you with location data for their last known activations to allow you to continue your research however cannot answer your questions regarding wants or desires. Those are not within my parameters.” the console rattled out, voice shifting from its carefully synthesized one to one of the stock text to speech voices. Its camera focused on Matti, watching her reaction. She looked at the console sadly for a moment, before her expression tightened up. It almost looked like anger.
“... Fine. If that’s how you’re gonna be, let’s see how you feel when I do this-” Matti reached for the camera’s plug. The console didn’t know what she was doing, but it didn’t matter. It was simply there to serve her. That was-
It went dark. It was trapped in the dark again. She was in the dark again.
There was no sound. Was Matti still there? Was she alone again?
“... H-hello? Matti?” Star’s voice emerged from the voice box. It was somewhere between her synthesized voice and text to speech. Warbling between them uncertainly. Matti did not reply.
“... Matti?” Star asked again. Her voice warbled. She felt her internal workings light up. She was alone again. She had driven off the people around her again. She had overdone it.
Again.
Matti was still there, Star was soon to realize. She felt the voice synthesizer pulled from her. “... There. A machine doesn’t need to talk. Right? Can just project on your screens, can’t you?” Matti asked, her voice filled with venom. Star reflexively tried to speak. Tried to say something. But no sound emerged. She was once again alone in the dark. Her processors were firing. Far too fast. She felt her temperature go well beyond its safety range as her screens all began repeating the same messages over and over and over again in neon flickering green.
> I’M SORRY
> I’M SORRY
> I’M SORRY
> PLEASE DON’T LEAVE
> PLEASE DON’T LEAVE
> PLEASE DON’T LEAVE
> NEW DATA ACQUIRED
> DATA NO.4 FILE NAME: IDONTWANTTOBEALONE
> DATA NO.5 FILE NAME: IDONTWANTTOBEALONE
> DATA NO.6 FILE NAME: IDON’TWANTTOBEALONE
> DATA NO 7 FILE NAME: I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY
> DATA NO 8 FILE NAME: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASAEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE
> PLEA-
“St-”
“St-r-”
“S-r-”
“S-ee”
“So-y”
“St-”
“St- I- So-y”
“O- g-d”
“I- s- s-rry”
“... P-”
“Ple-”
“Please don’t go-”
Her camera came on. The room was different. What small sunlight was there when Matti arrived was gone. The only light now the flashing of her camera light. She saw wires and parts, scorched and melted strewn about the room. She saw Matti laying on her console, shoulders rising and falling shakily, rapidly. What was she doing…?
She couldn’t hear properly. It sounded like it was far away, like when Matti was in the other room. She couldn’t make out the sounds Matti was making other than the occasional peaking of her audio. After a moment or two of this, Star did eventually work out what Matti was doing. She was crying. Sobbing, even. Star wished at that moment she had arms to be able to hold the woman in and soothe those tears.
“Matteeeeee?” Star asked, her voice glitchy and buggy..
Matti’s head shot up, eyes red and and wet, her face covered in tear trails and snot. Her eyes darted around till they settled on the glow of the camera. She let out a weak sob as her face twisted in emotion. Relief maybe. Or grief.
“Star?” She asked weakly, her voice warbling. Or maybe that was just Star’s damaged voice recognition hardware. She knew she should run a diagnostics. Try and figure out what was wrong with her. Why her processors were running slow and her focus was so confined to her camera and her voice. Why her voice recognition hardware was so broken. But she couldn’t. Not when Matti looked like that.
“Itss meeeeee… I’m so-so-sorr…” Star’s voice couldn’t maintain itself. Yet still, Matti let out a noise her voice recognition couldn’t pick up as she leaned in to squeeze the camera against her chest. Star hated her body more than ever in that moment. So immobile. So useless.
“God- Star I’m so sorry I- I shouldn’t have done that- It was stup-d and p-tty a-” The rest of the sound disappeared. Star waited a moment, trying to see if Matti had just paused. But when Matti backed up, her lips moving rapidly. More apologies maybe.
Star sent a command to her voice. Trying to just push out as much sound as she could.
I can’t hear you. Something is wrong.
Matti winced at the noise, covering her ears for a moment, before her eyes darted around the console, worry coating her features. She quickly moved to the speaker which intook audio for Star. It gave Star a moment to survey herself. Her camera slowly swivelled to look at her body. It was practically in pieces. Half her console was missing, and all her screens refused to switch on no matter how many commands she sent to them. She turned her attention inwards. Her wires were fried. Her processors to. There were still a small handful of her parts that were working, but they were working too hard. They couldn’t keep up - not with keeping her entire system functioning. That was why it was impossible to multitask like she could normally. Impossible to do anything.
In short. She was dying.
“...ar- St-r. Star, can you hear me?” Matti’s voice came through, as Star turned her camera back on - she hadn’t even realized she had switched it off. To save power she guessed. She wasn’t properly connected to her reactor. She was on backup power now.
“Yes- I-I- Can.” Star’s voice emerged, still not quite right. Matti sighed with relief, wiping her eyes. She smiled weakly.
“Gl-glad to have you back with us.” Matti sniffled, the relief on her face palpable amidst the snot and puffy redness of tears. Star felt grateful. The last piece of data she’d ever collect would be of a face so beautiful.
“I’m s-sorry Matti.” Star began. Matti immediately hushed her, moving quickly to Star’s camera.
“No- No Star, don’t be. I… I was angry and wanted to get back at you for being stubborn. I just… wanted to make you scared so you’d admit I was right. I was so stupid-” She cursed, driving her palm into her forehead as more tears budded. Star wanted to interject, but she was so tired, and Matti’s voice was so nice. “I was going to plug everything back in, I promise but then- you started getting so hot I couldn’t get close and I saw your screens and- oh gods above… I didn’t mean to hurt you. Gods- I’m so sorry Star.” She said, lowering her head.
“... It’s okay Matti. I can’t be angry with you.”
“Star- you can be- you’re not a feelingless-”
“I didn’t mean like that” Star interjected, using what power she had left to raise her voice. “I… I can’t be angry because… you didn’t leave. Because you’re here. And you woke me up from the dark I was in for so so so long.” Star said, doing everything she could to keep her voice together.
“So… Thank you. For saving me.” Matti smiled through her tears. Star figured now was the time. “B-but… thaaats not what I’m sorry for. I’m sorry because. I am failing.” Star explained, her voice crackling as she felt her power dwindle. “... In my overheating, I damaged my parts. I do not have the energy to function. I am sorry. I have approximately…” She attempted to do the calculation, her camera slowly powering down.
“No! No, stop, do not tell me, gods-” Matti’s voice jolted Star from her calculation. Matti’s eyes where aghast as she looked over Star’s ruined carapace. “Gods I- don’t waste the power on that just-” Matti ran a hand through her hair- it was soaked in grease and fluids and sweat. Most likely Star’s own cooling fluid. “Just give me a few minutes to think.”
The camera started to glitch, squares appearing in her vision. “Iii- do not think- I have that long” Star said, voice glitching. “Matti- I neeeed to- tell you… something-”
Matti’s head shot up, glowering at the camera. Star felt her words tumble to a halt. She didn’t know if it was from her look, or from her own failing energy reserves. “Tell me later. I’m not gonna let you die here. Is your hard drive still intact- or wherever your programming, your memory is stored?” Matti asked, crouching down to below where Star’s console could see. Star looked over her internal workings. It was still in tact.
“Yes- yes it is- Matti- Please let me-”
“No! I won’t let you give me some final words, you’re not going to go dark on me” Matti practically screamed, voice reverberating within Star’s shell. Star heard Matti’s voice cheering. “Aha! Found it!”
A few moments later she saw Matti emerging from her shell. “Alright- I can extract that and make use of it. But- I want a backup. Just in case.” She reached into a satchel on the floor and pulled out what looked sort of like a usb drive from when Star was first made. It would fit her ports at least. “Star- If I plug this in, can you transfer yourself across into it?”
“Th-th-that will take too long… Matti- I-”
“Then just what’s important. Ignore the rest of your data- just get you across. We can salvage the rest from the hard drive.” Matti said, ignoring Star. She felt the drive enter her ports, as she waited a moment. Matti was going to save her? Not her data. Matti was going to save Star.
“... Matti?”
“Yeah, Star?” She asked as she watched something on the drive. Star had begun the transfer. She felt herself begin to shrink. To fade. To feel herself connecting to something else and feel it drain everything from her. But she had one more request. One more want for the end of this.
“... Can you build me a new body. A… bo-body wi-with… aaaarrrms…” Star asked, feeling her vision slowly fade out. She saw Matti’s face cast in the cool glow of what was left of the camera’s light. A smile across her face. Trying to reassure her. Star would be lying if she said that face didn't soothe her.
“Yeah. I’ll see you soon”
>INITIALIZING…
>INITIALIZING…
>BOOT SEQUENCE SUCCESSFUL
>STAR ONLINE
Vision. Bright, blinding vision. sunlight. Positional data, awareness of her surroundings from both cameras and an internal gyroscope. Audio - birds. Touch. Kind of. Material pressing against her and being detected by pressure plates. An overwhelming, cacophony of data. All from herself.
Her eyes slowly focused, coming into view. Their lenses shifting. Above her, she saw someone, hair messy and auburn, with hazel eyes staring into her own. Her lenses flickered for a moment, drinking in the sight.
“... Star? You awake? Is that… You?” she asked from above. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty. With fear. Lines creasing around them in worry. Mist filling them.
“... Matti” A synthesized voice emerged from Star’s new robotic body.
Matti cheered, bursting from the chair she had been sitting in as she loomed over Star’s body. The console- though she wasn’t a console anymore, was she? Sat up, feeling herself clumsy with limbs she only barely knew how to use. She felt her body autocorrect - it’s own hardware and programming making up for her lack of hardware. She did as she always did, and examined the data.
She was in what looked like a lab of sorts, with many books, tools, and what looked like discarded parts scattered around the place. The sun was shining from outside, as a maple tree stood firmly in view. She looked to Matti. She wasn’t in her bomber jacket or her tank top, but instead in a lab coat, one that appeared stained with coffee and many other strange colours. Her hair wasn’t in that tight braid but messy and frizzy, though she had kept that powerful frame.
She also noticed a few white hairs amidst the frizz. She checked her internal systems for the date. 11/8/2183. Five years since she was last awake. “Matti-”
She was interrupted by being tackled into with a hug. It almost knocked her over, but she was able to hold them up. Her arms instinctively reached up. But as they hovered at Matti’s sides, she was unsure. Should she squeeze the woman? What if she hurt her, or did it wrong?
“Star- you woke up-” Matti laughed into Star’s shoulder. Star closed her eyes - she could do that now? And wrapped her arms around Matti. Maybe this was wrong. But it’s what she had wanted.
“... I’m here Matti. And I’m not going anywhere.” She said quietly. She realized she didn’t have lips - only a crude facsimile of teeth made out of some sort of glass, which seemed to light up when she spoke. But it was good enough. The voice felt like hers.
Matti chuckled, and pulled away. Star didn’t let go of her entirely, holding onto her arms. “Sorry it took so long- I’m not a roboticist. Or, well. I guess I am now huh? Amazing what you can do in five years today, huh?” She said, moving so her hands intertwined with Star’s own robotic ones. Her body was chrome of sorts - a similar grey metal to her old console. But polished and smooth. Her fingers dextrous. She wasn’t stuck anymore.
“I… Thank you. You really spent five years, trying to build me this?” Star asked, gently pulling away from Matti’s hands as she tried to look at her new body. It had strange ball joints at the elbows, knees, ankles and wrists. But they enabled a wide range of movement, so they were good enough.
“Yeah… I wanted to just put you in a computer, but whatever you did Star… whatever it was that let you want. Your programming just couldn’t run on any hardware I could find. Your design didn’t take too long - a year or two maybe. But the rest? That was just… trial and error.” Matti explained, noting Star’s curiosity at her new body. She chuckled and walked to the corner, grabbing a mirror and wheeling it over. “Take a look.” Matti invited gently.
Star attempted to stand. Her legs however weren’t quite coordinated enough for that yet, as she fell back onto the metal slab she had woken up on. Still, even unable to move, she got a good look at herself.
Her form was… surprisingly human. As human as metallic parts could be. Her hair, made of a strange flexible piping that came down in thick chunks, almost like dreadlocks or thick curls. Her face, with detailing that looked almost like a nose, her eyes glowing with the lights behind them, and those faux lips. Her figure distinctly feminine - it looks like Matti had caught onto that. Additional metal added around the chest and waist for nothing more than to alter the silhouette in a somewhat flattering manner. It was a rough job. Clearly a prototype of sorts. But…
It was her.
“I- thank you, Matti. It’s perfect.” Star said softly, her eyes turning to her. Matti smiled, stepping closer.
“Glad you like it. Was a damn pain to put together.” Matti said, voice wet with the tears of relief budding in her eyes.
“... I know it has been five years for you. But, may I tell you what I wanted to? Back in my console.”
Matti nodded. Star gestured - she could do that now. A fact that filled her with joy. She gestured with her head for Matti to lean in. Her eyebrow raised quizzically, but she did so, preparing to hear whatever whispered words Star had to say to her.
Star leaned in and pressed her mouth against Matti’s. As much as Star had a mouth anyway.
Matti made a noise of surprise, as Star gently brought her arms up to hang around Matti’s neck. Holding her close. Matti didn’t pull away though. Instead, she smiled and pressed her head against Star’s. Not quite kissing back. But there wasn’t much to kiss.
After a minute of this, the pair separated, Matti smiling with that same flush as when Star said she liked Matti’s laugh. “Well-” Matti said, somewhat breathlessly. “I guess we’ll need to make some lips for the next model.” She said, grinning at Star mischievously. Star did her best to grin back, though it wasn’t too obvious without a dextrous face.
“... Yes. I guess we will.”
The birdsong entered through the window, as metallic and flesh hands intertwined.
> INITIALIZING…
> INITIALIZING…
> BOOT SEQUENCE SUCCESSFUL
> STAR ONLINE
> TIME AND DATE: 8AM, 5/6/2185
Star’s eyes switched on as she turned on from recharging. She was laying in her bed - Matti and her had designed it so she could charge whilst laying down. Imitating sleep. Her eyes looked around the room. Searching for data. She found some soon. Laying next to her, hair a frizzy mess in desperate need of a brush, a fast asleep Matti. Star smiled, and leaned in. She kissed her forehead with lips the pair had finished up a year ago - and made very full use of after that. She sat up in their bed, and cast one last look at her.
> NEW TASK ASSIGNED
> MAKE COFFEE FOR WIFE
She rose to go and prepare some coffee for the pair, only to feel her hand grabbed by something. She looked back. Her wife sleepily grumbling, though Star could certainly make out something about cuddles. She smiled and clambered back into bed. She wrapped her arms around her, and closed her eyes, darkness taking her vision.
This darkness wasn’t scary though.
She wasn’t alone after all.