Summary: The files Harper finds Rommie studying aren't comforting.

Pairings: None.

Disclaimer: Tribune owns all rights to Andromeda.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Early second season.

Setting: Early second season.

Feedback: Please! Praise and constructive criticism welcome. Flames will be huffed and puffed and blown out.

Archive: Ask first and I'll probably say yes.

Author's Note: The germ of this came from an idea Viridian mentioned ages ago. I didn't take it too in-depth, but I did want to get a look at it.

Afterlife

By B.L.A. the Mouse

Harper hesitated just inside the door to the machine shop. Rommie had her hand pressed to the console, her eyelids fluttering as she processed whatever information was there. He almost hated to interrupt, but she had to know already that he was there. This was confirmed immediately by her breaking contact with the console and turning to him. "Harper."

"Hey." He stepped farther into the room. "Are you okay?"

She blinked. "All of my systems are functioning between normal and optimum perameters."

"What's only at normal?" He caught himself. "No, no, no, you're not distracting me that easily. Seriously, are you okay? You've been off the last couple of days. Everyone else's noticed, too. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I've been devoting my resources to other things. I'll have to adjust the percentages of my processing power and redirect more back to social interactions. I apologize for worrying you." Her whole speech was deadpan. It seemed like any nuance crept into it by accident.

"And now I know something's wrong if you're doing the robot thing." That phrase at least startled an expression from her, even if it was just slightly irritated confusion. "Oh, you know what I meant." He stepped closer.
"What are you up to, anyway?"

"Running scenarios." She seemed shifty when she said it, though, and the screen flickered as whatever she'd had up cleared. "Nothing you need to be worried about."

He rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh, and that's why you're acting strange and not letting me see it. Here—" and he reached for the console, but her quick sidestep put her squarely in the way. "Rommie, come on!"

"You don't need to worry about it," she reiterated, voice firm.

"Yeah, I do. If something's going on, I need to know about it, since I'm the one who'll fix it later." Rommie still didn't budge. Harper sighed. "Look, you can let me look now, you can let me do a full work-up to figure out what's wrong, I can check the records later, or I can have Dylan order you to do any of it. Will you just let me see?"

She didn't say a word, but she did step aside. "Thank you," he told her, to no response. It took a moment for him to pull the file back up, and far longer for him to get his voice back after seeing it.

Pages and pages filled the file, and they were all about him, from the state of his larvae to the overview of his neural net, and that was only the beginning. Calculations on how much space could be spared in her core, pages on transferring electronic personalities, android blueprints with blond hair and blue eyes, even theories on the concept of a soul in humans, and all of it what Rommie had been working with.

Finally he closed the file again. Rommie hadn't moved at all the whole time. He would have been surprised if she'd blinked. She didn't say a word until after he looked at her, barely beginning to process what he'd just seen. Eventually he said quietly, "Why are you looking up ways to turn a Human into an android?" even though he was fairly sure that he knew already.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" she answered primly.

"If you were just exploring it out of curiosity? No. But my medical files being mixed up in all of that kinda changes it." He knew a little annoyance was slipping through, but dammit, this was something she should have talked about with him!

If anything, his irritation made her tighten up more. "It's a theory I'm exploring should Trance and Rev fail to find a cure for your larvae."

"And you didn't bring it up to me because…?"

"Because I haven't fully explored the probabilities of it working."

He sighed again. "Whether or not it works doesn't matter if I don't want it."

"But—" Rommie frowned. "But, Harper, you'll die if they can't cure you. This way you could stay alive indefinitely, possibly well past a human life span. Don't you want to live?"

"Want to live? Yes. As an android? No." He scrambled to figure out how to say it better, seeing the not just confusion but hurt creasing her forehead at his immediate rejection. "Look, it's not that I don't want to outlast the little bastards. I mean, forget months, I'd be happy to spend the next few decades working on you. But-"

"And what, precisely, is wrong with being an android?"

"Nothing!" He held up his hands defensively. Okay, maybe he hadn't made the best word choice there, but her reaction might be a bit over the top. "There is nothing wrong with being an android. It's just… not what I saw myself doing with my afterlife."

"Afterlife, Harper. You would be dead. How is this not an improvement?"

"Well, I do have hope of a seraglio… But that's not the point," he added hastily, seeing Rommie's impatience. He forced himself to be serious. "It's the principle of the thing, you know? Humans get one shot, one lifespan. It's what makes us so innovative: we gotta do everything real fast." He grinned, but she didn't smile back. "It's cheating to do it another way. If my number's up, it's up. Besides," he gestured to himself, "you think it's possible to replicate this mental and physical perfection that easily?"

She lightened, a little, but not enough to laugh. She still seemed just this side of outright lugubrious. This was borne out when she said, quietly, "But I don't want you to die, especially since I live and die with you."

Harper winced. "I know. And it's not fair. But we're not going to get far with this stuff, and I'd rather try to find a cure." When she still looked distressed, he gestured her forward. "Come on, until that happens I need to get all of you optimum, not just normal."

The End