The Sands of Life
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve, And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
"A Red, Red Rose (1794), Robert Burns
The sallyport corridor was empty. A droid stood to one side of the passage, watching the hatch, but the organic crew would still have described it as empty.
The droid knew this, and, in a perverse way, it amused her. But she had been in service for many years now, and was used to such ill-considered neglect. It may be a droid's lot in life to suffer the indignity of nonentity, but that perspective freed her from taking the masters' slight personally. Experience had given her the sympathy to pity their prejudice. It was probably vanity on her part, vanity of which she knew she should be ashamed, to enjoy the profuse apologies that resulted when a master realized that her kind were not unreasoning robots, but cybernetic organisms: cyborgs.
For C-2PA was a Cyborg Second Class: the highest rating a pure mechanical could achieve. Only electronic-supplemented organics could be designated first-class cyborgs. She was proud of her rank, but, again, experience had rendered the arrogance from that pride. It was her duty, as well as her privilege, to serve. As C-2PA - Cyborg Second Class Protocol Attendant - she had seen to the comforts of diplomats and their families, translated for nobility, negotiated the labyrinths of court etiquette for novice legislators, and protected the person, not to mention the dignity, of ladies who needed guidance. The path of destiny, though, does not always follow a royal road. Sometimes, it leads to lowly footpaths. Situ, as she was called by those masters who had become friends, had passed through many hands since her activation. Her latest service was to attend female passengers on a diplomatic cruiser, attached to the royal house of Alderaan. The work was hardly commensurate with her capacity, but, still, it was useful, and appreciated by the nameless ladies who used the Tantive IV. Situ knew the women had been, in fact, notables of the highest rank, but she had been ordered by her master the Captain to forget their identities. She thought, with wry amusement, that, in spite of this induced memory block, she could probably piece together their identities with little difficulty, but saw no point in the exercise. If their safety depended on not being recognized, she was dutiful enough to do her part to protect them.
In the docking bay, she could hear the rumbles and squeaks that accompanied a shuttle landing. Situ straightened, and glanced down at her casing. Under the stark glare of the work lights, it looked a flat white. Situ eyed it regretfully. The casing was comparatively undamaged by wear or injury, but the artificial light did not do it justice. In sunlight and full-spectrum illumination, it iridesced like a pearl. Well, the will of the Maker be done. If her path of good works required her to resemble a glass of milk instead of a luminous jewel, she trusted His judgement. Besides, she had learned many years ago not to judge a unit by its casing. The remembrance of that droid with the shabby, mismatched casing always gave her a happy glow of nostalgia.
But the hatch had opened. A couple of astromech units rolled tentatively down the passsage, then caught sight of her. This was why she was here. The Captain had acquired several new units for this cruise, and she had been tasked to direct them to the maintenance bay for inspection. Rather than escorting them there, she instructed them how to reach this first step to their new assignments. Although Situ disliked electronic communication, preferring the tongues of masters to that of droids, she guessed rightly that hearing their own primary language would please these new colleagues. Encouraged by her greeting, they moved confidently down the passage, and turned right at the first corridor. The maintenance bay was at the end of it. They would have no trouble joining the droid pool.
But the two units troubled her. Not them specifically - they seemed pleasant enough - but she had been advised that there should have been a third: an omnipurpose unit, to help with droid management, translation, and any additional diplomatic details that might arise. Situ had been a little hurt when she learned of the Captain's acquisition - after all, her primary functions included protocol and translation - but, she admitted, she was specifically an attendant, and not one of those general, "O" units. That happy thrill of nostalgia returned, as she recalled the amazing things an omnipurpose unit could accomplish, simply because it was not functionally specialized. Besides - and the recollection sobered her - she had overheard rumors of discontent with the current government. The politics of the masters was nothing to her, but what troubled the masters eventually troubled the droids. An overt civil war could devastate the pleasant worlds the Tantive IV visited. Situ remembered the Clone Wars, and shuddered at the suggestion that such chaos could return. Well, the ship had been busy with diplomatic missions: perhaps they were attempts to avert hostilities. Yes, all considered, an additional protocol unit would be a welcome addition to the inorganic crew.
But where was it? It should have accompanied the astromech units, who had used the entrance intended for mechanicals. Its absence was the reason she had not escorted them through the ship. Situ scanned the corridor with some irritation. Why had it been delayed? Then it dawned on her what had happened, and she had the humility to be amused at her own pique. "I've been around the mech units too long," she chuckled to herself. "Even a third-class cyborg would expect to use the masters' sallyport!" She moved down the hall to the central artery. "I fear that unit will be in for a rude awakening to the position of our kind on this ship." The masters were far from unkind, but they did tend to forget that, just because someone is a machine, doesn't mean that it isn't a person. The astromechs were well enough in their way, but their conversation lacked the intellectual sparkle of human interaction, to which cyborgs are accustomed. Well, she would do what she could to lighten the new unit's vocational isolation. She stepped to one side as a crewman, in a casual uniform of khaki and brown, toted several pieces of luggage. Situ watched him disappear down a corridor, thinking that she would soon have another lady to forget. But she was getting close to the main hatch.
Evidently, the new unit had not yet disembarked. She watched as several masters moved down the hallway, in earnest conversation. She did not catch the words, but she was sufficiently schooled in human body language to recognize that the matter was serious. She looked after them uneasily. She had known of great atrocities during the last war, and dreaded its return. Her own wartime adventure was one she would never wish to repeat. And yet, as that warm nostalgia swept through her again, she would rather be destroyed outright than part with a single part of that dreadful, glorious memory!
It had been on - well, the name of the planet was best forgotten. But it was a beautiful place, with fragrant gardens of blooms as vivid and radiant as its sunsets. She had been newly activated, freshly trained in the fine points of royal protocol, and eager to use the millions of languages, dialects and subtongues she was prepared to translate. It was her first assignment: personal attendant to the Princess Ina of … well, that, too, was best not disclosed. Princess Ina – dear, round, silly, cheerful Mistress Ina – was a most unlikely ambassador, but she did as her king commanded. Situ recalled with some satisfaction that her own intervention had prevented some diplomatic kerfulffles when Mistress Ina had pointed out some obvious discrepancies. Yes, she would blurt out the first thing that came to her mind! Ah, but she was always truthful, and always meant to be kind. Truth and kindliness were not qualities suited to political intriguing, though. Perhaps she should have foreseen what the king had planned, but…well, it was long ago.
Their shuttle had set down at a small landing pad within the palace compound. In that magnificent estate, even its most prosaic utilities had been constructed to blend with the cultivated natural environment, and accentuate it. The transport droids moving the princess's personal effects glided down the shuttle's ramp and vanished behind banks of emerald and scarlet foliage. Situ and her mistress followed them, then stopped abruptly at the bottom of the ramp.
"My goodness! What a gorgeous jungle!" Mistress Ina had exclaimed. She let go of Situ's arm, on which she had been leaning, to clasp her hand together in ecstacy. "That fresh air is just what we need, after all that time cooped up in a star cruiser!" She breathed deeply - and promptly had a coughing fit. Situ supported the stout little woman until the spasm passed. "See!" the princess smiled, "We've been breathing the recirculated stuff for so long that we can't handle the real thing!"
Situ had no need for air at all, and so was indifferent on the subject. Considering its effect on her breathless mistress, the droid had serious doubts as to fresh air's benefits. However, organics were better judges of what improved their function than she was, so she said nothing. The atmosphere reminded her of a conservatory: breezeless and slightly humid. The comparison was not unreasonable. Beyond the palace grounds, the terrain was rough and uncultivated. Mining and manufacturing were the primary industries of the region, so the lushness of the royal compound was a point of particular pride. But Situ could see the shuttle pilots scowling impatiently at their dawdling passengers.
"Would you prefer to walk to the reception area, Mistress Ina, or take a transport?" The question was merely a formality. Situ knew what her answer would be, because it was always the same: "I'd prefer to walk, but, as my grandmother used to say, 'Whenever you can, rest your feet.'" She scanned the clearing for the customary dignitary conveyance.
There were none. Situ looked more intently. This could be a problem! Mistress Ina may have been less than average size - her head only reached Situ's shoulder - but she was considerably more than average girth. Although she had not reached middle age, heredity had already presented the woman with degenerating joints. They, and her weight, combined to make standing, let alone walking for any great distance, difficult. Evidently, the woman had noticed the absence of any vehicles. Situ caught her anxious glance.
"If you'll excuse me a moment, I can check the other side of the landing pad." She shuffled hurriedly along the gravel path that surrounded the clearing. Situ was proud of the pearly cast of her casing (though the casing itself was a common style); still, she regretted the constraints it put on her movements. Perhaps it was her own limited mobility that helped her sympathize with Mistress Ina: neither of them could raise their feet and flex their knees enough to achieve more than a brisk shuffle. But she did her best to hurry around the shuttle. Her search, however, was in vain.
"I'm very sorry, Mistress Ina, but I fear we will have to walk." As Situ spoke, the corners of the woman's eyes and mouth perceptively drooped. "But here's a thought: there are sure to be resting places along the path. As soon as you are seated comfortably at the first one we find, I'll go on ahead and request a conveyance. Will that suit you?"
"I guess it'll have to." She gathered up her pink and shimmering gray robes, and took Situ's arm. "This is something of an ominous start for this mission, isn't it?"
Situ did not answer, but supported her as they slowly walked along the gravel path. Behind them, the shuttle revved, then, with a huff of antigrav motors, swished away into the atmosphere. Situ glanced at her gasping charge. The hazy afternoon sunlight shining through the arching branches, the twittering of the birds, and the undulating beds of flowers inspired thoughts of happy anticipation, but Mistress Ina's wheezing drowned other sounds. But she didn't complain, either.
"I should have known (gasp) we would have to walk (gasp). They're proud of these gardens…" Here, Mistress Ina had to stop to catch her breath. "…And they like to show them off."
"It seems an imposition on their guests, to my way of thinking," Situ responded, with guarded indignation. "This path is decidedly unsuited to dress footwear, and its length is better suited to a constitutional hike than a promenade."
The princess pulled her forward. "It's not really that far. I'm just out of shape." A pensive look crossed her face, as she measured the distance they still had to traverse, then disappeared in a smile. "If our king had grounds like these, he'd probably do it, too." The trees thinned as they approached a balconied vista. It overlooked a long reflecting pool edged with fountains. Beyond the water were the artificial hills that bounded the palace grounds, and, in the distance, Situ could see a gray wall of mountains.
Only they weren't mountains. "I think we're in for a storm," Mistress Ina observed. The birds had grown quiet, and the air heavy. Situ looked again at the horizon, and realized the wall of clouds was drawing closer. "I think I'm in for a wetting!" The little woman added, with unaccountable cheerfulness.
"Mistress Ina, I won't have you suffer the indignity of tramping through a rainstorm! If you can proceed without me briefly, I'll try to arrange for some transportation." Without waiting for an answer, Situ scurried ahead, and had vanished beyond the rise in the path before her mistress could finish saying, "But Situ, it's not that important!"
Freed from the inhibitions of her patient mistress, Situ fell to muttering. "A fine collection of churlish nobility these are! …Just because they can grow a mess of plants, they think they're something special! …If they were really noble, they'd know that courtesy matters more than a lot of fancy horticulture! Of all the masters to be neglected: how could they neglect kind little Mistress Ina! …If only I…" The path suddenly opened into a lawn, beyond which rose the terraced steps leading to the palace. Tables, no doubt intended for refreshments, had been placed around the perimeter, but servants of both organic and mechanical nature were in the process of moving them. Evidently, the threatening storm had taken them by surprise. ("One would think as progressive a planet as this would have reliable meteorologists!" Situ added to her grievances.) Nearby, a brass-colored ambulatory unit was looking indecisively at a grouping of chairs. Situ approached it
"Here! You! Droid!" It looked up, startled.
"Are you addressing me?" he said uncertainly.
"Yes, I'm addressing you! The Princess Ina is in need of transportation! Kindly send a conveyance for her!"
The droid looked bewildered. "Where - where shall I send the conveyance?"
"To that garden path, of course!" Situ had never been so sharp with another of her kind, but conern for her mistress's condition, and the obtuseness of this shabby-looking menial was beyond the capacity of her patience. "Be quick about it: it's going to rain!" She whirled about, without waiting for an answer, retracing her steps in the darkening wood.
She found her mistress where she had left her, by the panorama of the reflecting pool. The mirror of the water appeared crazed by gusts of wind from the approaching storm. Mistress Ina was leaning on the railing, her gown fluttering like a miniature of the gray streamers of clouds whirling above them. She smiled as Situ approached.
"It's going to be a dandy of a storm! The lightning is terriffic." She pointed over the expanse at the lowering palisade in the sky. Light slashed the wall in several places. "One, two, three, four, five, six…" She jumped, then giggled, as the thunder shook the ground.
"Mistress Ina, come away from there! That isn't a safe place in a thunderstorm." Situ called. With a sigh, the woman turned from her observations to join her droid. "I've ordered a conveyance for you. I'm not sure what they'll send but …Ah! Here it is!" The whirr of a hovercraft grew louder. A moment later, a sort of floating sedan chair came over the rise, and glided to a stop in front of the ladies.
The driver stepped off the control platform behind the chair, and opened its door. The driver was the shabby brass droid Situ had spoken to earlier. He extended his hand to the fluttering woman. "I beg your pardon, your highness, for the exertion to which you have been put, and for what must have appeared to you to be an unforgivable slight to one of your position." He escorted her to the seat. As he did, Situ mounted the control platform. "The fault, I'm afraid, is partly mine. Two of us had been assigned to meet your shuttle, and each of us thought the other was attending you."
Princess Ina chuckled, "Think nothing of it. It could have happened to anybody." The droid shut the door.
"If I can be of any further service…"
Situ cut him off crisply. "That won't be necessary, thank you." She raised the chair from the ground, and swinging it about, directed it toward the palace. A flash and a clap, and the rain began to fall. Behind her, the droid stood in the downpour, staring after them in astonishment.
The blazing lightning, and the branch-breaking wind gusts did not trouble the worthies who had assembled in the palace's reception hall. Its lofty arches and glimmering chandeliers gave the hall an unexpected airiness, for it was entirely underground. Situ had no trouble finding the anteroom for guests. She gently landed the chair at the portal, stepped from the driver's platform, and opened the door, assisting Mistress Ina to alight. Mistress Ina blinked at the glittering portal, looked up at Situ, and exclaimed, "Why Situ! You're soaking wet!" She began to mop her vainly with her handkerchief with one hand, and, with the other, motioned to one of the organic stewards. He approached and bowed.
"I'm sorry to trouble you, but my attendant and I were caught in the rain. Is there a place where we could dry off?" she asked, looking up at the man, with an expression of innocent expectancy.
The steward frowned slightly, not at the woman, but at Situ. He gestured almost imperceptibly to another steward, who removed the hoverchair. He looked again at the round, pulpy face turned up to him. With cool courtesy he inquired, "And you, madam, are… ?"
A hardness Situ had never seen before crept into Ina's complaisant black eyes. She gazed at him for a moment, then said in a low, measured voice, "I am a guest who needs assistance."
The steward was unimpressed. Situ could see, from the curl of scornful amusement in his smile, that he was about to dismiss her with haughty politeness, so she interrupted. "She is Her Highness, the Princess Ina, of…"
The man started, and glanced at one of his companions, who nodded solemnly. "I beg your pardon, your highness!" His apologies were profuse, but Ina's expression was still cold. "If you will join the reception, I will be happy to attend to your, er, attendant personally." He motioned Situ toward a service corridor. Situ tried to walk as daintily as a dripping droid could, but still felt inexpressibly gauche. The steward seemed none too pleased with his humble task, either. He walked close behind her, his presence forcing the droid to trot down the narrow hallway. "I suppose I'll have to summon a maintenance unit to clean that up," she heard him mutter, referring, no doubt, to the trail of water she left. The plain walls and stone floor multiplied the sound of their footsteps. Situ felt like she was leading a parade, and longed for a place to hide.
The steward stopped in front of an unornamented door, forcing the droid to backtrack. As the man fumbled with the handle, he looked up. Situ noticed it at the same moment: although they had stopped moving, their footsteps continued to echo. No, not their footsteps. These had a limp, and were accompanied by an unmistakable wheeze. They turned to see Princess Ina, well, waddling behind them.
The steward looked chagrined. "Your Highness! This really is no place for someone of your stature - er, I mean, of your exalted position," Ina had flashed an ironic smirk at his attempt to recover from a seeming disparagement of her height, but then crossed her arms and smiled pleasantly.
"I wouldn't send my attendant any place I wouldn't go myself." The man stared at her, slack-jawed. She added, with measured gentleness, "The sooner she's dried, the happier we'll all be. Open the door. And close your mouth." His teeth clicked, and the door creaked.
The chamber was a large maintenance closet, unattended and uninhabited. Some basic tools and equipment lay scattered about on several work tables and shelving units. Along the wall, toward the room's center, stood the device Situ had hoped the palace would have on hand: a full-length air dryer. Situ hurried toward it, but, with surprising speed, Mistress Ina had reached it first, and was examining the controls. The steward looked truly embarrassed now, and attempted to remonstrate with the determined little woman.
"Your Highness, that is work better suited…" But Her Highness did not deign to look up.
"Oh, let me have some fun! I used to manage a droid pool – " And here she did look up, "—Much as evidently you do. It'll be like old times."
"But the hot air…!"
"I could use it." The ironic smirk lingered as she turned back to the dryer. "I find this atmosphere rather chilly." Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, the man stared at her for a moment, then turned and left the room.
Mistress Ina fiddled with the controls a little more, then said, "I haven't used one quite like this before, but it looks self-explanatory. Shall we try it?" Although scandalized herself, Situ positioned herself next to the dryer. Presently, she could feel the warm air evaporating the water that still clung to her servomotor cables and oozed from under her traction pads.
Why had Mistress Ina done it? The steward had been right: this was no work for a princess, or an ambassador. Situ felt ashamed at her mistress's humiliation, at being the inadvertent cause of her humiliation - and knew she would love this odd little woman to the end of her days. What other mistress would go to such lengths, not merely to care for, but to show respect for, her droid? Could it be true she had once managed a droid pool? They must have been happy units, indeed.
As she turned, so her sides could benefit from the warmth, she noticed a door opening on the other side of the room. A mech droid - and, oddly enough, an astromech droid! - rolled in, whistling a stream of humorous invective. In the corridor, an irritated voice was attempting a rejoinder.
"I did not! You received the orders first! If you had done it then, the captain wouldn't have asked me. Then when I saw that it had been your task, I assumed you had done it!"
The little droid gave a rude snort. "All right, if it makes you happy to think so! But you can at least help me dry off. I can feel my diaphragms starting to warp." The speaker stepped into the room. It was the shabby brass unit.
Situ hastily turned her back. The movement startled Mistress Ina. She looked to see what had inspired her droid's alarm, and caught sight of the retiring brass figure. "Come on back," she called gaily. "We're almost done." A pair of glowing photosensors peeked sheepishly around the threshold.
"I beg your pardon," he muttered, "I had no intention of intruding on…" He growled to his companion in a low voice, "Why didn't you tell me there were ladies…"
"Oh, never mind," Mistress Ina replied, ignoring Situ's shocked glance. "We're all friends here." She felt her attendant's power couplings, nodded, and shut off the blower. "There! It's all yours." She took advantage of the blower's wind-down cycle to whisper to Situ, "Now what's indecent about a couple of wet androids?"
Situ had no answer. There was nothing indecent about it. In fact, there was only one wet android. And there he stood, looking awkward and… and unkempt. Not only was he only indifferently polished, but the casing on his left leg looked as if it has once been part of a galvanized wash bucket. But it was her duty to tolerate her mistress's vagaries, even when they involved so unprepossessing a figure as this. She stepped gracefully from the blower, as Mistress Ina examined her.
"You could do with a little polish," she remarked, as she buffed a water spot with her still-damp handkerchief. By now, the other two units had approached, shyly. To Situ's chagrin, they watched as the woman stood on tiptoe to reach a spot on the back of her head.
"If I may, polish could add no improvement. You look quite splendid right now," the shabby unit observed. He then turned to the princess. "I must beg your pardon again, your Highness, for this inconvenience to your attendant. I should have thought to bring a more commodious hoverchair. You would both have avoided the rain." A clap of thunder shook the room. To himself, he muttered, "My stars, what a tremendous storm!" He looked curiously at Situ, who, by this time, was tugging gently at her mistress's arm. "If I, or my counterpart, can be of service to you during your stay, please don't hesitate to call on us. This -" he gestured toward the little blue astromech unit, "- is Artoo-Detoo. And I am See-Threepio, Human-Cyborg Relations." He added, with his gaze fixed on Situ, "I'm called Threepio."
"Thank you! We will," Mistress Ina called over her shoulder. Situ had succeeded in nearly dragging her to the door. Threepio moved as if to follow them, but the splash his foot made when he moved from the puddle in which he now stood, recalled him to his bedraggled condition.
"I don't believe I caught your name," he called to the retreating attendant.
As Situ held the door for her mistress, she turned to look at him: A sodden, hapless figure with tarnished, mismatched casing. "I don't believe I dropped it," she said sweetly. "Good day." She stepped into the corridor.
As the door closed, though, she overheard the mech unit pass a remark to his counterpart. Threepio replied,"Why, Artoo-Detoo! That's a terrible thing to say. She's nothing of the kind. She's merely, er, discriminating…" The thick door and her mistress's footsteps drowned the rest of the conversation.
"An irritating episode," Situ thought. "What unconventional programming the menials have in this world!" A gasp at her arm reminded her that, although her gait was the same as her mistress's, her pace was much too rapid. She stopped to allow the woman to catch her breath.
"I beg your pardon, Mistress Ina." The woman leaned on her arm, wheezing. Presently, as her breathing grew less labored, Situ asked, "Are you ready to proceed?" The woman said nothing. In fact, she had said nothing since leaving the service closet. This was not like her. Mistress Ina normally kept up a torrent of casual observation and pointless chitchat. To not hear her was, well, alarming. Situ peered at her. Her health seemed unimpaired, though she looked pensively at the stone flags. Then she glanced up at Situ, with an odd expression she had never seen before. It clouded her open, sunny face for a second, but then she dispersed it with a smile.
"Yes, let's join the reception. I'm curious to see how they recept here." She took a step, then pulled Situ's arm, for she had not moved.
"Yes… of course," she murmured. They followed the passage to the door, then stepped past the bowing stewards into the brilliant sunken hall. But Situ could not enjoy the opulence, or the conversation, or the prestigious guests. She was distressed by what she had seen in that brief look her mistress had given her.
She had seen disapproval.
The storm had indeed been a violent one, though the notables in the subterranean festhall felt little of its effects. But as the rain and the wind dissipated, those guests who retired to their rooms could see the results. Large boughs with hidden weaknesses had fallen. Stone decorations lay about the grounds, as if they had been used for a gigantic game of lawn tennis. The setting sun edged the charcoal-colored clouds with crimson and vermillion, as if they were flaming coals, instead of mere water.
Situ gazed at the scene from the balcony window of the apartment assigned to her mistress. It was a compact, and elegantly austere, chamber, that anticipated every comfort, without being strictly comfortable. Mistress Ina lounged on the divan, behind her. Her even breathing convinced Situ that she had fallen asleep, but a sharp wooden creak, and a long human gasp advised her that the woman had shifted to a sitting position.
"Ohhh, these feet aren't made for walking," she grumbled playfully, as she bent over to massage them. Situ was beside her in a moment, and caught her before she could tumble forward. "Thanks, dear. My balance isn't what it once was."
"Here, let me do that for you," Situ knelt by the divan, and began to massage the woman's swollen ankles. "You might be more comfortable if you put them up again. The banquet doesn't begin for several hours." Mistress Ina didn't answer. Situ bowed her head and continued her work.
"Mistress Ina," she began timidly. "I know you're displeased with me, and I'm very sorry to have made you so. I do want you to be happy with me." She looked up into the woman's surprised face.
"Displeased? Oh, Honey, I'm not displeased with you at all! Only with your conduct," she added with an unaccountable broad smile. "And I think you know what it was, because I think you're displeased with it, too."
How did she know these things? Situ was often astonished at Mistress Ina's insight. Yes, she was ashamed of herself. She knew she had been really rude to that shabby unit, and she wasn't entirely sure why. He had been courteous, he was well-spoken, if wordy; he had been helpful… But he was clearly a menial! Protocol dictated that units of such low degree should not intrude themselves upon persons of quality. He should have been respectful…
Yet he had been respectful - even deferential. Why had she behaved as she did?
"What was his name, again?" she heard Mistress Ina ask.
"See-Threepio," she muttered, a little too quickly to have been as indifferent as she thought she was.
Mistress Ina tried to conceal a knowing smile. "Cyborg Third Class Protocol Omnipurpose," she recited. Situ started in amazement. Few masters knew what the alphanumeric designations of their droids signified. Mistress Ina's familiarity surprised her. Then the woman abruptly asked, "Do you like him?"
Situ looked up quickly, then looked away. "That twittering relic? His casing doesn't even match." Yet, to her surprise, she found herself wondering why it didn't. Still… "Tarnished brass casing is hardly indicative of a responsible position."
"It isn't brass. It's gold," Mistress Ina remarked. Situ looked at her curiously."It just hasn't been taken care of very well. If he were polished properly, he'd knock your eye out, even with that platinum leg." That look Situ had interpreted as disapproval had returned to her eyes. It wasn't anger, but a regretful sadness, that, in that round, comfortable face, looked more painful than rage ever could.
Situ studied her thoughtfully. "Did you really manage a droid pool?" she finally asked. Mistress Ina gave her a wry smile.
"Yes. I wasn't always a fat old maid," she said. "My family knew that a high social position is easy to fall from, so we all learned how to make a living, one way or another." Situ tried to hide her embarrassment in her massaging, but Ina took her hands, and raised her to sit next to her on the divan. Situ had understood the real significance of her remark about the other droid's appearance. She had put it more gently, but it was the same rebuke that - what was his name? - Artoo-Detoo had passed to his companion. Well! Isn't she snooty! The slang expression was humanly picturesque. She had watched the movements of persons of rank, and their posture did include an elevated face, and therefore, a raised nose. They had status, position, wealth, many things of which to be proud, so she had thought nothing of it. Only now did she realize their dignified manner was also arrogant. How many disdainful slights had she endured in the time she had served Princess Ina? And now she was guilty of inflicting them on someone else - and one of her own kind, at that. She had been "stuck up," yet he had "stuck up" for her when she was insulted. She hung her head.
The sadness had crept back into Ina's eye, and her manner grew earnest. She continued, as she held both Situ's hands between her own, "And it's because I am old, and have made a lot of mistakes, that I'm saying these things to you. I don't want you to have any regrets. Protocol may be important, but courtesy is essential."
"I know," Situ murmured in a small voice. She looked toward the balcony window again. The scene still blazed and heaved, as did her own thoughts, but in the band of clear sky at the horizon, a furiously cheerful sun had begun to set. It cast a ray of powerful color across the divan, transforming Situ's pearly casing to gold. Abruptly, she stood up, hiding her face in her hands.
"Oh, but what's the use! Our kind has no business forming attachments. We are traded from master to master as our services are needed. We have nothing permanent to cling to this side of Eternity any more than - than…" From one of the dispersing black clouds came a flash, followed by the low rumble of thunder. Situ pointed out the window. "…Than lightning has! We may illuminate each other for a moment, then we never see each other again." She turned her face to the wall.
"'Time like an ever flowing stream Bears all its sons away. They fly, forgotten as a dream Dies at the break of day.*'" recited Mistress Ina softly. She watched Situ for a moment, then added. "Only you aren't forgotten. The Maker never forgets. And those whom our lives touch don't really forget, either. Whether we realize it or not, we leave behind us a trail of influence, for good or ill. That lightning bolt just now: it's gone, but you remember it, don't you?" Situ nodded. "We can't help the circumstances, but we can at least try to make the memories we leave behind us as pleasant as possible." She bowed her head and sighed. "It's easy to be imperious - I always found it so - and courtesy is hard. But that consideration for others is more satisfying. If I had understood that years ago, a lot of people I'll never see again might remember me less harshly."
The two women watched in silence as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The remaining clouds grew ashen, then blew away. In the darkness, Situ felt a small, soft hand take her own.
"Whatever happens, " Ina said in a low voice, "You're my dear, sweet e-girl, and I really am very proud of you."
Impulsively, Situ reached down and embraced the little round princess, lifting her off the ground in the process. "Oh, Mistress Ina! I'm so glad I know you!"
She didn't see Threepio at the banquet, but, as Mistress Ina reassured her, he probably had duties elsewhere. She would try again the next day. Oh, but there was a state visit and an inspection tour of … well, some industrial facility at some distance from the palace. Situ remembered casting a last look around the grounds, in hopes of spotting the "twittering relic," but saw no sign of him. She and her mistress had stepped into the self-driving podcar they had been assigned for the motorcade. That is, they tried to step in. Princess Ina announced that the conveyance was too small for her, that she would suffocate on the journey through the wilderness, and asked another ambassador to exchange cars with her. The earnest young man was a gentleman, and had obliged her, though not without a glance of disdain cast at the retreating girthy lady. Situ resented it on the princess's behalf. Princess Ina seated herself in the last of the cars, Situ squeezed in beside her, and they were off on their journey.
Situ seldom questioned her mistress's whims, but her insistence at trading cars with the young diplomat perplexed her, especially when she noticed his car was smaller than the one she had rejected. The princess was unusually quiet, too. Normally, when they went for drives, or traveled on land, she would point out objects of interest, ask questions, or relate anecdotes that the sights brought to her remembrance. Now, she stared at the road, answering Situ's attempts at conversation with monosyllables. Situ finally gave up, and looked at the scenery.
The terrain beyond the palace grounds, in the direction they had taken, was a rough wilderness. There were stunted trees and shrubs, rocks, patches of wild grass, more rocks, an occasional derrick or manufacturing plant… and more rocks. When she looked at the road, she noticed that their car appeared to be lagging behind the procession. She pointed this out to the princess. The woman looked at her strangely, then took her hand.
"Be brave, Honey, whatever happens." Her voice choked as she added, "The Maker protect you , now and always… Protect us both…"
Before Situ could ask her what she meant by the alarming benediction, Situ sensed directional commands being streamed at the car: Something or someone was overriding its programmed itinerary. The car sped up, and turned off the main road. She thought she caught sight of a sun-weathered building of concrete and rocks. It looked abandoned, but the trucks parked near it, and the mounds of scrap metal showed that some business was still conducted there. She glanced at the princess. Her expression was resolute, even stately, as she faced this crisis. She would have asked what she should do, when a new blast of programming struck the car, scrambling her random access memory. She remembered nothing, until she found herself stretched on a table in a gloomy, cluttered workroom.
Her first thought was for - well, it had been for herself. But only for a moment. Her auditory and visual functions returned before her powers of speech and movement, so she had had time to see that her mistress, though no doubt a prisoner, was not being held in that spot. She also saw that the three men who stood by the workbenches, stripping circuits from what looked like droid parts, were not likely to give her a civil answer. She watched and listened, in hopes of learning where she was, and how long she had been there, but they remained silent. Eventually, one of the workers finished with the piece of scrap he had been picking at, and moved toward Situ. She shuddered, but remembered her mistress's last injunction: "Be brave, Honey…"
Boldly, she sat up and addressed him. "Sir, if you know the whereabouts of the Princess Ina, I'm sure she would reward you handsomely for any assistance you could offer." Judging from the dullness in the worker's eyes, Situ doubted he could be much help, even if he chose to offer any. He merely gazed at the droid for a moment, then took from one of the workbenches a small, flat cylinder. Situ recognized it immediately as a portable memory scrambler: a device for incapacitating a functioning unit. Such devices had the same effect as that scrambling blast she had received earlier, but only delivered its disruption for a few minutes. Situ may not have been an experienced droid, but she was a well-informed one. She had learned the self-defense maneuver to defeat such a mechanism. She watched as the man approached, scrambler in hand. As he was about to place it on her chest, she closed down all functions, collapsing back onto the table.
Situ was a Cyborg Second Class, and could regulate her power cycles. A few minutes later, after the scrambler had finished its own cycle, she reactivated, unaffected by its processor interference. This time, she left her photosensors unpowered, and listened. She heard the men picking and pitching their circuits, then the clatter of a door opening, followed by the metallic rumble of a utility bin. An irritatingly good-humored voice called, "More scrap, boys!" and swaggered out, whistling. The announcement was met with a low grumble from the workmen. One rasping voice muttered, "I wanted to get the white one done before quitting time." Situ shuddered, but no one noticed. "So take a shorter lunch!" an insinuating, guttural one answered. A klaxon sounded in the corridor, and the first speaker got no more advice. The men filed out of the room.
As soon as they had shut the door, Situ tore the scrambler from her chest, and was on her feet. "Why you, you insolent, vandalizing lummoxes!" she raged to herself. "If any of you ruffians have harmed Mistress Ina, I'll make you feel it!" She had no idea where to look, but she had determined to find her mistress, right then, at any cost. Who knows what torments these, these kidnappers, were putting her to!
In the center of the room stood a large metal bin on wheels. As a final outlet for her anger, she pitched the scrambler into it. "Scramble my memory, will you!" she thought, as it hit the scrap with a satisfying clunk.
From out of the bin came a distinct "Ooh!"
Situ froze. Scrap metal could make many strange noises, but it never spoke. She stared at the bin. The wires and anchoring pieces, and sensors, and servomotors were uniting into a form! It slowly rose from the pile: the mockery of a head, shoulders, cabled rods like arms. Situ found herself shrinking behind a worktable as the monstrosity reached its full height. It appeared to have its back to her, for it surveyed the opposite side of the room, placed its talons on the edge of the bin, and swung itself out. Situ crouched lower, but couldn't take her photosensors off the horror. To see scrap moving about as if it were still functional was a sight too ghastly to turn away from. What there was of its head was surmounted with great, glowing sensors and a cruel beak, like some gigantic scorched owl skull that still retained motion. Situ wanted to run, but she knew she couldn't move. The creature turned. Then it caught sight of her.
It stared at her, then said, "Why, what are you doing here?"
Situ was silent, She tried, but her terror had disrupted her speech synthesizer more effectively than any scrambler could. The mass of wires and circuits stepped closer, and eyed her with some amusement.
"I am See-Threepio, Human-Cyborg Relations. And you are…?" Situ had slowly risen from behind the table. With only the gentlest of rebukes, he added, "I don't believe I caught your name."
"Situ!" the droid squeaked. "See-Toopiay! Er, Situ" She leaned against the table, trying to recover her composure.
"The circumstances, I'll admit, are less than ideal, but it's a pleasure to see you again." He stepped back and surveyed her, "But what are you doing here?"
With the realization that her threatening apparition was nothing more terrible than a respectable droid like herself, en deshabille, Situ's courage, and her indignation, returned. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here!" She pointed at the scrap bin. "That's the oddest form of transportation I've ever seen!"
Threepio glanced back at the bin, then at the droid. "Why, I'm helping to recover the Princess Ina," he stated, as if the answer should have been obvious.
Situ gripped the worktable. "She… she isn't killed, is she?"
"Why, no, not that I know of. I'm sorry," he reassured her, "'Rescue' would have been a better choice of words. Right now, I have to get to one of the central access terminals and upload the code that will bring down the perimeter security. Artoo is much better at 'hacking' systems than I, but," and he gestured down his uncased form, "I have a better disguise. The party of commandos will then storm the building, and find her, safe and sound, I trust."
"I'm so relieved." She looked at him admiringly, then dropped her photosensors. His pleasant manner may have concealed it, but he certainly couldn't be comfortable appearing, as it were, naked before her. Threepio must have noticed her embarrassment on his behalf, and gradually retreated behind the bin, with his back to her.
Embarrassed or not, Situ suddenly looked up. "But how were we to get out of this place?"
"It's simplicity itself! After I load the corrupted code, I simply jump in one of the outgoing scrap bins, and…" His voice trailed off. He turned around, eyeing her uncertainly.
Then Situ understood the reason for his anxiety - and the humiliating lot of a droid's existence became plain to her in all its impersonal degradation. The storming of the kidnappers' stronghold had included an escape for the party's mechanical agent - but not for the hostage's attendant. She turned away, wilting against the worktable.
Threepio must have read her despair, because he was at her side in a moment. "Oh, now, don't take on so. There was such consternation when her Highness the Princess Ina disappeared that they just didn't think." He thought a moment. "Here: as soon as I load the code, I'll come back, and we'll figure out something." In an attempt to amuse her, he added, "These corridors are so messy, I should have no trouble blending in. Then we'll get out together." Tentatively, he put his hand on her shoulder. "It wouldn't do, you know, to leave one of my own kind behind."
"But might they not regard you, too, as - as expendable?" Situ couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. Threepio was silent for a long moment. Evidently, he knew that possibility was not a remote one.
Then he replied, "I have a friend. If I'm not in one of the scrap bins, I believe he'll come looking for me. For us, " he amended. He then instructed her, "Try to conceal yourself until I get back." He patted her arm, and moved toward the door.
"All right, but please do try to hurry. The lunch hour could be over at any minute!"
She looked back at Threepio. One clawlike hand was wrapped around the door handle, the other was raised in salutation. "Courage!" was all he said, and he was gone.
Situ stared after him, then scanned the workroom for hiding places. Strangely, when she had no expectation of rescue, she felt bold and reckless. Now that she knew of the coming attack, she felt timid and uncertain. Why? Was it the revelation that she was supposed to have been left behind? Or was it that someone as vulnerable as that droid was giving up his own certain escape to assist in hers? Whatever the reason, she obeyed Threepio's orders, to find a place of concealment.
The room was poorly lighted, except over the workbenches, it was untidy, it was cluttered, but it had no places suitable for making a shining white protocol unit, with limited range of motion, to vanish. Along one wall, was what looked like a hatchway. She pulled on the latch, and it swung out into the room. She peered into the blackness inside. Judging from its sound, the chamber was comparatively small, and littered with a number of bulky indefinable objects. It might be a good place to hide, but she couldn't see what she was stepping into. She started to close the hatch, when a rattling at the workroom door caused her to jump inside, instead.
A voice called, "Situ! Situ!"
"Here!" she answered. She put her hand out of the hatch and waved. She felt something grab her arm and pull.
"Situ! Come out of there this instant! Do you know what that is?" At that moment, they both heard voices in the hallway. Threepio looked over his shoulder, then at the hatchway. "It's a terrible risk, but we've no choice now. Move over - against the wall." He stepped in himself, pulling the hatch with him. As the voices grew closer, he manipulated something in the latching mechanism, then carefully drew in the hatch until it very nearly closed.
Situ's sensors had grown accustomed to the darkness. The chamber, it turns out, did have some illumination: a ring of blue diodes around the hatchway. Their light, however, had not kept her from stumbling several times on the - whatever-it-was - covering the floor. She pressed herself against the wall as the voices in the workroom beyond grew loud, and then enraged. Clearly, they were looking for her. She could hear heavy footfalls moving about.
Suddenly, she found herself sprawled on the floor. Threepio had knocked her down! She was about to retort angrily, when he threw himself on top of her. "Don't move!" he hissed, as he held her arms to her sides, and pushed her face into the rubbish with his head. Astonishment at this bizarre conduct froze her. A moment later, she heard the hatch creak. After a long silence, someone said, "Is it in there?"
Another long silence, broken only by the workman's heavy breathing. "I don't see it. Check the rooms off the corridor. It couldn't have gotten out of the building." He started to close the hatch, then stopped. "Aw, who did this!" He said in disgust. Situ felt Threepio stiffen. The latch rattled, then clanged closed. Presently, the voices died away, and the two droids were left in silence.
Threepio rolled off of Situ's back, but did not rise. When she had righted herself into a sitting position, she found him on his knees, staring at the floor.
"I think they're gone," Situ hinted gently. The other droid did not move.
"Yes. They're gone." If anything, he looked more dejected.
"Maybe we can escape now," she hinted again. Threepio continued to look at the floor.
"Situ, can you ever forgive me?" She gazed at him blankly. "Do you know what this is? It's a crushing chamber." He made a wide gesture. "This building is an electronics recycling plant. Look around you." She did, and, to her horror, realized that the rubbish covering the floor was shattered droid parts. The larger pieces were the hulls of various types of mech units, too badly damaged to reclaim. Situ shrank back at the ghastliness of the setting. "And I can't open the hatch. That workman must have noticed I had disabled the latch, and reset it." His head bowed as he confessed, "I don't know how we'll ever get out of here now." He shook his head. "I tried to help you and only brought you to ruin."
Situ looked around the chamber: at the emblems of electronic decay, at herself , gleaming blue by the light of the diodes, and at the heap of animated scrap beside her. She forgot about the nakedness, she forgot about the shabby casing, she forgot about the rain, in the radiance of what she did see. She reached over and laid her hand on his clasped ones.
"Why are you so good to me, when I've treated you so disgracefully?" she whispered.
Threepio looked up, surprised. "Don't you know?"
Situ murmured. "I think I'm beginning to." She shuddered again at their surroundings. "The Will of the Maker be done."
"May it be done indeed." Threepio echoed.
How long had they been there? Situ had not bothered to keep track. They sat together in a corner, among the metal refuse. In hushed tones, Threepio had told her about the uproar when Princess Ina's car had not arrived with the motorcade. Situ told him her story about the fateful drive, and about Mistress Ina. Threepio told her about his friend Artoo, and so on. But, eventually, the gravity of their situation had weighted them to silence.. Situ found herself watching the diodes around the hatch.
"Strange, isn't it, how things we take for granted become precious when we know we will soon lose them. I never cared for diode illumination, yet, when it's the last light we may ever see, it's quite beautiful," she said, musingly. Her companion did not respond. "Threepio? Threepio, what are you doing?"
"I'm looking at the ceiling."
Situ sniffed in exasperation. "And here we are on the verge of dissolution! This is a fine time for reverie!"
"There's a hatch in the ceiling."
The chamber in which they sat was about four meters wide, five long, and about seven high. Earlier, Threepio had explained to her that, in these types of crushing units, one wall, perpendicular to the entry hatch, would gradually press against the one opposite it. In that farthest corner, along the stationary wall, Situ could just make out the oval outline of an access panel. She scrambled to her feet.
"A hatch! Then we're saved - if only we could reach it! " She looked at the remnants of lost droids, bent support rods, warped pieces of metal plating. "Couldn't we stack these things in such a way to climb up to it?" Threepio had not moved, but he slowly rose, still looking at the ceiling.
"We have to get the hatch open first." He picked up a hand-sized power converter, hefted it, then threw it at the hatch. It struck a latching bar, and clattered back into one of the piles. "Anything we assemble from these materials would be too unstable to bear the amount of force we have to put on that bar. We have to raise it out of its cradle, then push it aside. After that, we simply press the emergency release panel in the center - see, it's glowing now - and the hatch should fall open." He stumbled across the litter to get a better look. Situ followed him. They both gazed at the luminous red circle above their heads.
"It's a good thing it's an old style emergency access. The newer ones have the entire release mechanism behind a sliding panel in the center." He gestured descriptively toward the ceiling. "The problem with these types is that scrap would occasionally push the latch bar out of place during the compacting process, or push against the release panel, and damage the mechanism. Now, in the new models, it's…"
Situ shook his arm impatiently. "This is no time for a technology lesson! Is there a way to get it open?" Threepio had begun to clear a space beneath the potential exit.
"I don't know. We'll have to press that bar up, as I said, and to one side, in order to release it; then strike that red disc." He looked at Situ almost cheerfully. "We can but try!" He hunted about and picked up a memory cube, a little larger than the converter he had first thrown. He weighed it in his hand for a moment, then hurled it at the latch bar.
"It shifted!" Situ cried excitedly, "I saw it move!" But Threepio was shaking his head.
"But it didn't move far enough. We need to get it up and out. Situ, how strong are you?" She looked at him in surprise. "Excuse me, I phrased that indelicately. I mean, do you know what your lift-to-mass ratio…"
"I know what you mean," Situ interrupted, "And I'm not sure. I could lift Mistress Ina with no trouble, but I never tried throwing her." She picked up a heavy block of … of rustiness in both hands, spun around several times, and pitched it into the air. Threepio jerked her out of the way as it crashed to the floor.
"Careful, there! We mustn't damage that lovely casing of yours…"
"I'd sacrifice it all, if we could get out of this horrible place," Situ muttered.
"Happily, that shouldn't be necessary," Threepio remarked absently. Situ glanced at him, then hung her head, but he continued to study the ceiling. "That was an excellent throw, you know: well done! The latch bar cleared its cradle." But then he stooped in disappointment. "Then it fell back into place." He kicked at a broken circuit board. "I don't know what's to be done."
Then Situ had an idea. "Threepio, what if we both hit it? If I throw something that knocks it up, and you throw something that knocks it out… wouldn't that work?"
"It might at that," he mused. "It might at that! Where's that memory cube… here, this will do…" Situ found the obliging metal chunk, and swung it tentatively. "Are you ready? Go!" Again, she flung the brick upward and jumped aside. She was in time to see Threepio hurl something. From above her came a crack and a clatter, then something hit the floor and flew past her arm. She was afraid to look up, so she looked at Threepio instead.
"You did it!" He pointed up, toward the squeaking sound over their heads. There, swaying in the diode-lit darkness like a winter aurora, was the latching bar. Situ scrambled to him, as he picked up another power converter. He took aim, and launched it at the emergency panel. With a jangling crash, the door fell open. It swung a little, making ripples in the shaft of clear, white light that now played on the wall.
"Oh, Threepio!" Situ threw her arms around his neck. "You did it! Now, is there enough…" By the bright light from above them, she was able to take a good look at her surroundings. "Ugghh!" She hid her face in his shoulder.
"Courage, courage," he soothed, patting her back. "Now to build a stairway to liberty." Situ looked around again.
"Is there enough here to do it?" She asked, uncertainly. Threepio continued to examine the available materials, then shook his head.
"The selection is rather sparse. I don't…" Suddenly, he looked up, then at Situ. "Yes," he said slowly. "Yes, there will be enough." He began to push aside the debris on the floor beneath the hatch. "Here, let's start clearing a foundation - and put those red mech unit shells to one side: we won't need them right away…"
It took time, but, under Threepio's guidance, the construction went faster, and more smoothly than she had expected. The mech shells and broken rods became pillars, the metal plates were terraces, the smaller, loose pieces served as shims and wedges. As they built, they climbed. After moving a particularly heavy piece of plate, Threepio commented, with some disdain, "If this compactor had been constructed properly, there would have been a recessed ladder under the hatch." He turned back to his work. "One would have saved us a great deal of effort!"
Situ leaned against the rods she had been collecting to look at him. "How do you know these things?"
"Omnipurpose units pick up a lot of arcane miscellany," he shrugged. Situ was lost, for a moment, in admiration for the versatility of "O" units. Until her forced association with this droid, she had assumed they were merely all-purpose, generic units, of mediocre quality. How wrong she had been! They weren't interchangeable: they were adaptable. Again, she felt guilty of her snobbery, and ashamed of her own limited specialization.
"Hand me those rods, will you? And keep the longest for yourself." She climbed gingerly onto the platform which formed the first tier of their tower, and passed them up to him. He used them to stabilize the mech shell he had placed, pyramid-style, on top of two other such cylinders.
"I"m going to climb on top of that last hull," he announced to Situ. "Hold that rod against it to help me balance." She did so. He carefully stepped onto what had once been the shoulder, so to speak, of one of the unit. Part of the front panel of the topmost shell had been knocked out, and it served as a foothold. Slowly, he moved his other foot to the topmost unit's "shoulder." Finally, both feet rested on the shoulders of the droid who had gone before them. Then, he surprised Situ. He had fashioned a tiny platform out of broken rods and circuit boards, which he had placed over the dome of the mech unit. As he had climbed, he had faced the wall. With his final steps, he reversed his feet, thus turning himself around. The tower had been so well supported that the pieces didn't even quiver. His back to the wall now, he was able to reach out to Situ.
"First, hand me the rod." She passed it up to him, and he jammed it firmly between the wall and the hinge of the hatch door. Then he reached out again.
"Did you see how I climbed? Do you think you can copy my path?"
"I think so." Situ imitated his method for scaling the structure. As she did, she called up to him, "By the way, I don't know if this is important, but the lights around the door just went out."
Threepio shuddered, and looked up, then returned his gaze to Situ. "Don't be alarmed, but it's a signal that the compacting cycle is about to begin." Situ began to look over her shoulder, when Threepio recalled her. "Keep looking at me. We still have time. Now, " he pulled her up to the shoulders beneath the pinnacle,"This may be a little tricky, but I think we can do it if we're careful. " He crouched slightly. "Give me your hand and step on my knees."
At that moment, a tremendous grinding sound surrounded them. Situ was so startled, she nearly fell backwards. Threepio caught and counterbalanced her as she regained her footing. And the tower held.
"Easy, easy," he said soothingly. "We still have time. I want you to climb on my shoulders." He crooked his arms so they formed steps. Trembling, Situ moved from his knees, to his arms, to his shoulders. The grinding grew louder, and she was grateful she faced the stationary wall. Above her, she could see a clean white corridor, gleaming by ordinary office lighting. But the opening was still almost a meter above her head.
"I can't reach it!" she called back. "Threepio, I can't reach it!"
"Raise your foot a little," he ordered over the din. "Now the other one." As she did, he slipped his hands under them. Her heels rested on his palms. "Now, get ready…"
Situ slid her hands along the wall as the other droid raised her to his arm's length. Before he had fully extended them, her own hands had cleared the hatch.
"I'm up! I'm up!" she squealed, She grabbed at the floor, and pulled herself up, out of Threepio's hands. But she couldn't pull herself forward and out of the hatch. "Oh, Threepio, I can't get any farther!"
"Put your foot on the rod!" she heard him shout. The rod! So that's why he had placed that piece between the wall and the hatch. She felt his hand guide her thrashing foot toward it. She found it, she pressed against it, and she gained the last impetus she needed to pull herself out of the hatch. As she did, the rod fell back into the pit.
"I'm out! Oh, Threepio, I'm out!" But she hardly glanced at the empty corridor, as she swung around on her chest to help her companion.
She hung her arms down toward him. "Here! Take my hands! I'll pull you out!" Obediently, he raised his own, but a gap of more than a meter separated them.
"I can't reach you!" A horrible thought occurred to her. "You said there was enough scrap to get out!"
She could see his owlish photosensors staring up at her. He had lowered his arms. "There was. I'm so glad you're free." He sounded calm, even happy.
Situ could hear the cracking of mech hulls. The crushing wall had reached their tower. "But! But! You must have miscalculated…"
Threepio cut her off. "I didn't miscalculate. I was the last piece."
Situ shrieked. There was no other answer to such a horrifying, such an unexpected, such a magnificent revelation. The she leaned farther down the hole, screaming, "Give me your hands now or I'll jump down there again with you!" She stretched vainly toward him.
He put up his hands as if to stop her. "No, Situ! You mustn't do that!" he urged, "But -: and he spoke with a quiet earnestness that even the grinding of the crusher couldn't stifle, "- Maybe you could think of me once in a while." He dropped a little, as the crusher began to break the hollow pillars of the tower. By now, the moving wall had also caught the hatchway door, and was pushing it closed.
This time, Situ moaned. "Oh, no No NO, Threepio, NO! Save him! Oh, please, Merciful Power! Oh please save him!" She felt a tiny something shoot past her from behind, and go into the hole. A moment later, Threepio's uncased face was rising toward her. His hands were extended, and she grabbed them, and pulled. And rolled, and dragged. And then the two disheveled droids were lying on the floor of the orderly white corridor. Next to them, the hatch door shut with a thud.
Situ knew her words were only a torrent of incoherent endearments, but she said them anyway, with her face pressed to Threepio's chest. It wasn't until she heard him mutter, with pleased irritation, "Now what are you laughing at?" that she realized there were not two droids in the hall: there were three! The blue astromech unit that had accompanied Threepio was cutting figures around them, chirping with joy like a sunny morning meadow! Situ learned later that Princess Ina had sent him to look for them, and it had been his guided cable that had pulled his friend to safety, as much as her own frantic arms and urgent intercession. But, whatever the means, they were safe!
Princess Ina's diplomatic mission might have been a failure, but her rescue was not. The commandos brought her out with no more injury than a few bruises, and a black eye, which she claimed she got when she walked into a door. The kidnappers - insurgents intent on disrupting the economic status quo - had been captured, and their punishment would be swift, but just.
Situ and the princess walked slowly down the gravel path toward the landing pad. Because they had no reason to hurry, Ina had decided to walk its length this time. Situ was silent, absorbed in her own thoughts. And the princess? She was looking at her attendant curiously. Finally, she announced, "Well, look at us! In this outfit -" she wore the same pink and shimmering gray robe she had worn when they arrived, "- I look like a piece of abalone shell. And you in that casing, you look like a pearl. Hello, Pearl!" She smiled up at the droid, but her eyes appeared to be searching her.
Situ stopped. "After my conduct, Mistress Ina, I think I'm the one who needs to hear "Aw, baloney!" Ina laughed delightedly. "I'm afraid I have a lot to learn about … about everything." Her mistress patted her arm, and they moved along. "I'm also sorry your mission was a failure."
The princess looked around for observers, then said in a low voice. "But it wasn't a failure." Situ stared at her in surprise. "It wasn't the agreement I was supposed to negotiate that the king wanted. It was his!" Suddenly, it all became clear to Situ. So that was why she had insisted on trading places with that young diplomat!
"The king knew?" she whispered. The princess inclined her head.
"He had some intelligence that an attempt might be made on him. So, I was sent to protect the king's interest." She resumed her slow, uneven gait. "So… he got his agreement, and we…" She looked up at Situ with a wry smile. "We had an adventure."
"So we did…" and Situ's memory drifted back to the darkness, and the diodes, and the generosity. But then she added, "But I also know how precarious it is to be a droid … to be a useful tool, and expendable." She hung her head sadly. Then she looked at her mistress. "Oh, can you forgive me? I just realized that - that your master thought you were expendable, too!"
A look of sharp pain crossed Ina's soft face, but then she smiled. "No, dear, a willingness to make great personal sacrifices isn't being expendable."
Situ hung her head again. "No, it isn't." In a whisper, she added, "It's magnificent!"
Mistress Ina stopped. "Speaking of magnificent…" They had reached the reflecting pool promontory, and she pointed toward it. By the balcony stood the funny little astromech unit, whose intervention had been so timely. Beside him, gazing toward the reflecting pool, was…
Mistress Ina had told her once that, if he had been polished properly, he'd knock her eye out. Threepio turned from his musing and saw the ladies. His gleaming, glittering casing reflected the afternoon sun, looking as if a living piece of it had come to earth.
Situ clutched Ina's arm. "You did that, didn't you!" she gasped. "Oh, Mistress Ina!"
Ina suppressed a smile, "I like to keep my hand in. "Besides," she added, squeezing Situ's arm, "He saved my dear, sweet e-girl. Nothing is too good for him!" But then the woman signed. "I only hope I have done him a favor." She brightened, though, and waved her attendant toward the pair of droids. "Go over and talk to them."
Situ moved quickly at first, but timidity slowed her pace. She felt strangely awkward, ashamed, awed. Around Threepio, how could she be uncomfortable? But with this splendid figure?
But Threepio was holding out his hands to her. "Situ! I'm so pleased to see you!" What could she do? She took them.
"Oh, Threepio! I would hardly have recognized you if you hadn't spoken. You look… wonderful!" But she wasn't looking at his casing.
He didn't appear to notice. "It does look nice, doesn't it? Situ nodded.
"Yes. But isn't it odd," she said, "I didn't think much of you when I first saw your casing. And now you look beautiful in it! But," she concluded shyly, "I don't think you'll ever look more beautiful than you did when you had none at all." She pressed his hands in hers. "How can anyone thank someone for what you've done for me! All the languages of the galaxy can't contain the words."
Threepio looked at the gravel, and shuffled his feet. "You're… you're welcome." Then he looked up at her. "But what else could I do?"
"But I'm so glad you did it!" Situ said softly. Threepio bowed his head.
Artoo gave a little chirp. "Oh! I beg your pardon! Artoo wanted to say something to you." The unit appeared embarrassed as he chattered what sounded like an apology.
"Oh, no, no! I'm glad you did! I was 'snooty'! I must apologize to you for having been so rude!" Situ looked from the mech unit to his counterpart. "But I'll do my best never to be snooty again." Her photosensors met Threepio's. "I promise."
"There now!" a voice called from a distance. "Aren't you sorry you called him a 'twittering relic?'" Mistress Ina had heard everything.
Yet Situ didn't mind. She surveyed the woman for a moment, then replied, "No, I'm not!" She held up her hand for silence. "Listen!" Above them, the air was filled with the trusting, cheerful songs of the birds. "What better reminder of peace and joy, and contentment is there than twittering? And what is a relic but a precious token of someone worth remembering?" Threepio appeared humbled by her symbolic praise.
Ina hesitated, then spoke in a low voice to Situ. "I'm afraid we have to go now." Threepio and Situ looked up sharply. Her smile was faint, but her eyes were knowing. "Let's go together." She patted the mech droid's dome, and they trundled down the path, leaving the cyborgs to follow.
"Will I see you again?" Threepio murmured. Situ's head sank, for they both knew…
"I don't know. Our kind never seems to stay in one place very long. But - oh, Threepio," and she caught his hands in hers again, "I will remember you! As long as my memory is mine!"
He looked away. "If only our memory was ours to keep," he said mournfully. But he assumed a cheerful manner. "How could anyone forget you!" He offered his arm, and the two of them strolled slowly through the trees and the flowers, and the warm, golden sunshine.
"Yes," Situ recalled nostalgically, "That was an adventure!" Like lightning, it had illuminated so many things hidden in darkness, and vanished again. Yet, its memory lingered. How many times, when her masters neglected her, did she remember Mistress Ina seeing to her drying personally? How many times, when serving in the barren corridors of a star cruiser, did she recall the living colors of that stormy, sunny garden? When tempted to sharpness at the seeming obtuseness of lesser-grade cyborgs and omnipurpose uints, how often had she remembered what the versatility of another such unit had accomplished? And, when the loneliness and futility of a droid's existence weighted heaviest on her, how often had she heard, "I was the last piece?" A day had not passed in which she hadn't thought of him, and invoked the Maker's protection on him. Before Princess Ina died - for it was within a year that Time bore away her dear mistress - she confided to Situ that she had tried to buy Threepio. Considering the careless manner in which he had been maintained, she had expected no obstacles, but his owner would not part with him. Situ often wondered over that, and hoped that, whoever he served, that his master recognized and appreciated what a repository of unexpected wonders he was. After all this time, the thought of it still awed, and delighted her. She gazed down the featureless white passage, without seeing it, remembering…
Some movement by the masters' hatch attracted her attention. Yes, it was as she had expected: the new protocol droid had used the wrong sallyport. She could hear him muttering as he came through the hatch.
"I might have known it was a practical joke! What else can one expect of astromech units!"
That voice! Situ clutched at her vocabulizer and waited. A moment later, the shimmering, shining protocol droid stepped into the corridor.
It was he! After all these years, to see him again! Situ scurried toward him.
"Hello! It's so good to see you - and after all this time! Here, let me look at you - my, you do look splendid! However are you?" she gushed. "But why so formal?" The new droid appeared taken aback by her enthusiasm.
"I, er, don't believe we've been introduced…" Situ stared at him, then surveyed him again. Yes, the voice was the same, the electronic frequency signature was right; even the platinum casing on his leg was identical. There couldn't be two Threepios! She searched his photosensors for an explanation.
"…I am See-Threepio, Human-Cyborg Relations…" he stated proudly. "And you are…?"
Situ was stunned. To be met with pleasant, impersonal courtesy was not the reunion she had expected. He acted as if he had never seen her before! Surely he couldn't have forgotten her!
If only our memory was our to keep!" At the remembrance of his parting words, Situ felt as if her main power cable had been cut.
No. No, he had not discarded his memory of her. But some master - some thoughtless, vindictive, or capricious master - could have taken it away with a memory wipe. Situ put out a hand to steady herself. No, no, No; NO! Not Threepio! Who could have been so cruel to have wiped away all that, that precious arcane miscellany! But…what was done was done. He stood there fidgeting, looking at her in blank perplexity.
Finally, he remarked, "I don't believe I caught your name."
Situ could hardly speak, but she heard herself moan, "I don't believe I dropped it." But then she raised her head, and answered faintly, "I am See-Toopiay, Protocol Attendant." Then she looked at him intently, adding, "I'm called Situ."
He gave no sign of recognition. "I'm pleased to meet you, See-Toopiay. On a ship of this size, I imagine we will see a lot of each other. If you like, you may call me Threepio."
Situ couldn't help it. She leaned against the wall and covered her face. The action startled, and alarmed, the new droid. Instead of stepping away, though, he approached the disconsolate unit.
"I do beg your pardon! Have I said something to hurt or offend you?"
Situ mastered herself. "No - forgive me - the fault is entirely mine. I - I thought you were someone I once knew." Threepio continued to study her with curious concern. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the maintenance bay." She turned abruptly, and hurried down the passage. She could hear the new droid following her, and could feel him staring at her.
She knew she was being unfair to this Threepio. No doubt he had many good qualities. After all, a memory wipe takes away a unit's history, not its character. He would probably be a pleasant colleague on the ship. She would probably come to like him. But … but couldn't masters know that the only possession a droid has is its memory! "They own our service, our industry, our ingenuity: must they steal our only treasure? And, in doing so, don't they realize that they are robbing themselves of knowledge and experience that can only benefit them!" Someday, perhaps they will, but now… what was done, was done. She knew she would see this Threepio every day, but the Threepio she knew, and who knew her: she would never see him again.
Mistress Ina's words came back to her: The Maker never forgets. No, He remembers. And she thanked Him that she remembered.
She stopped in front of the maintenance bay. "I must ask your pardon for what must have seemed a strange manner of welcoming you to the ship." The gold droid still looked curious, but also sympathetic.
"No apologies are necessary. I'm only sorry I wasn't the droid you were expecting." He speculated gently, "He must have been a remarkable unit."
"He was the finest unit I ever knew. But I know he is gone."
"Oh, now, don't take on so," Threepio encouraged her. "We are small, the galaxy is large, and omnipurpose units are in every corner. He might easily be anywhere." He added confidentially, "Wherever he is, you can be sure he must be thinking of you, too." He looked at her with respectful admiration. "How could anyone forget you!"
Situ just bowed her head.
"So don't lose hope: he may turn up again someday. I hope he does. Indeed," Threepio reflected, "I'd like to know him myself!"
Situ had turned to go, but then she stopped. She looked over her shoulder, and gazed at the protocol droid for a long moment. Then she said softly, "Someday, I hope you will." She disappeared down the corridor, leaving Threepio mystified.
The End.
*"O God Our Help In Ages Past" (1719) Isaac Watts