That necessity firmly in mind, she grasped his forelimb and lifted it, trying to demonstrate his range of motion. Instantly, he recoiled, wrenching away with an instinctive horror that stilled her. She drew away with slow, careful motions.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, but I felt it. I have never felt anything. Intellectually, yes. Emotionally, sometimes, but physically? Never.”
“Then you have sensitivity to tactile stimuli. I’ll take care in the future, and I will never touch you again without explicit permission. Is that satisfactory?”
“Yes. I think I might be able to tolerate it with some preparation, but it’s so strange. Your skin and my…skin? Touching. And I could feel…” Helix trailed off, seeming unable to describe his perceptions accurately.
They could work on that. Qalu already anticipated the unrivaled joy of teaching him everything about the corporeal world. She tried to imagine what it would be like to transition from an ephemeral life, one of data and energy, to a more tangible existence, and she failed utterly.
“We’ll work within the boundaries you set. If you require my assistance going forward, I can don protective gear to eliminate the more intimate contact.”
“That would be preferable,” Helix said at once.
Qalu was already wearing a traditional swator for warmth as much as anything, as the research facility could get chilly, particularly in the evening cycle, and the suns were already setting. Tomorrow, the light would be a long time coming, as one binary star eclipsed the other every ten intervals, resulting in a short, gloomy sunspan. But she could add coverings elsewhere, and she pulled them over her limbs to prove her good intentions.
“May I?” she asked.
“If you must.”
“That’s not permission.”
Helix emitted a low sound she had never heard from a Tiralan before, and it sent a chill through her with its hostility. “Proceed.” Carefully, she touched him with the material between them, and he regarded the point of contact with an unreadable expression.
“Is that better?”
“I do not mind.”
Reassured, she demonstrated how his body could move, showing him the motion herself, then manipulating his limbs for a more concrete example. In time, he replicated simple gestures, though using delicate or fine implements proved impossible. Finally, he snapped, “Enough.”
While she might have argued, there was no opportunity. A clatter arose outside, proving that her hypothesis about “no interruptions” had been incorrect. Panic fluttered through her. I’m not ready. I didn’t tell him my plan.
“Qalu!” a cheerful voice called.
Oh no. It’s my foremother. Qalu had multiple maternal units, but none of them showed as much interest in her personal affairs as this one.
“Where are you? Fiddling with your gadgets again? I’ve arranged four potential matches. You’ll meet them in good grace or disappoint me severely.”
No time.
Quickly, she said in a low tone, “No matter what I say now, do not contradict me. Do you understand? It is vital you cooperate.”
“Understood,” said Helix, though it was apparent from his expression that he had no idea what she meant.
She turned, widening her eyes to offer a friendly welcome, and she tilted her head forward so her head tendrils fluttered forth in a respectful manner. If she were truly as recalcitrant as her foremother suggested, she would not offer either of these greetings.
Inatol brushed past the niceties, hurrying into the room to display the matches she had selected. Qalu restrained a long-suffering sound. Presenting Helix as a suitor was the only explanation that her foremother might accept with regard to an unknown person in Qalu’s residence. Otherwise, she would insist on sending Helix to clan housing, where he would certainly give away his true nature.
“As you can see, I have already found my own mate,” she said, indicating Helix with a respectful twitch of a forelimb. “We have been corresponding on the galactic matching service, and he has just arrived for us to continue our courtship more directly.”
“My auditory inputs are malfunctioning,” Helix said, a trill in his voice that communicated panic. “As I cannot possibly have processed that correctly.”
Qalu increased her volume, speaking over him. “See? Everything is as it should be; he’s perfectly handsome, and it’s very late. You should return to your own residence before the dark grows even colder.”
“Who are you trying to fool?” Inatol snapped. “There are no Tiralan colonies, so it’s impossible that you—”
“You’re forgetting the ancient diaspora,” Qalu cut in, frost practically forming on her words. “The Titan V outpost exists. And you will offend Helix with your intolerance.”
She held her breath, hoping this gambit would solve two problems in one stroke.
Inatol paused as if she might argue, but finally said, “I have no wish to offend. Since it’s rude for me to linger uninvited while you are hosting a guest, I’ll notify you beforehand and return at a more convenient time.” That was a straightforward statement indicating this wasn’t over.
Qalu tried to conceal her relief over the reprieve. “Thank you. I’ll contact you soon and you can get to know Helix better then.”
Grateful to Helix for remaining silent, she escorted her foremother out.
[ 2 ]
Prior to this moment, Helix had not believed it possible for an AI to hallucinate, but that was the logical explanation. Perhaps his hardware had been damaged; therefore, he had created this elaborate illusion, possibly as a manifestation of his regret over past wrongs. Otherwise, why else would a Tiralan be claiming he was a prospective mate she had met—on the galactic matching service—the same one he had used to deceive Zylar?
On some level, he was intrigued by this ability to create such a vivid dream, but also unsettled by it. He had no experience with what organic life forms referred to as “dreams.” Helix never slept and he certainly never created complicated fantasies.
He needed to wake up in truth and evaluate how badly his chassis was damaged. But no matter how hard he tried to exit this delusion, he remained locked into this flesh form that refused to do his bidding. Qalu was quite graceful as she returned, her movements light and fluid.
She’d shocked him with the deceptive statements she made to her progenitor; he recalled that there were other titles used on Tiralan. Odd that he could retrieve random, trivial data regarding Tiralan culture—such as the fact that pair-bonds were rare, as most Tiralan favored larger amorous and/or platonic love groups—while the past half cycle was blank in his memory. If he could have gotten up, he might have fled; not that he suspected it would help.
When Qalu returned, he said, “Explain.”
“I didn’t want to vex you while you’re recovering, but…” She took several nano-spans to convey a bizarre scenario, in which he would play a leading role while pretending to be her potential mate.
“Let me see if I have parsed this. My existence may be imperiled if they discover you downgraded me into a meat bundle. Therefore, I must cooperate, purporting to be your love interest, to deflect suspicion from your clan and the science coalition.”