Galatea was certainly getting the attention she wanted. This morning, she was on a popular women's panel show. Despite it being on a rival network, Rhonda came on the show with her, both part of this celebrity cycle.
The panellists, four of them, ran through their beginning routine, setting the scene, running through other topics, what they'd being doing – since yesterday – chit chat, idle talk, that Galatea couldn't follow. Rhonda however was rapt attention, excited to be on the show.
"They're the biggest thing in the morning with housewives. They shape homes." the Emmy winning host had said.
Galatea had the data at her fingertips. Barely any other network show rated during the same timeslot. Their audience was almost exclusively women over thirty, married with children. Rhonda, in comparison, owned across all demographics, male and female, national and international. There was a reason why Galatea had chosen Rhonda, and not these four humans who talked a lot about nothing.
Yet they were famous. They had influence.
Both what Galatea wanted.
They were introduced.
Rhonda led Galatea in and the four hosts shifted so that they could sit in the middle, centre screen, centre of attention.
"We finally got you on our show, Rhonda-dear," said Shona Masters, a sizeable lady.
"Yes you have, Shona," Rhonda replied, "I thank you, your producers and your network, for helping us share Galatea's incredible story."
"And what an incredible marathon show it was," Amber Shales added, on Galatea's left; she patted the Sotai's shoulder, "The revelations – we'll get to those, but, today's show is about our guest. You said your name was Galatea, and also that you are called the Sotai?"
"Yes," Galatea replied with not as much confidence as she would have liked, the contact to her body, five sets of eyes laser focused on her.
"Did you give yourself that name or was that name given to you by the Genom scientists and technicians?"
It wasn't a question Galatea had ever asked herself before.
"It's just what I've always been. Isn't that the same with you, your parents give you your name?"
"That's true, Galatea," jumped in another host, Vanessa Ausmus, "We can also change our name however. To match who we really are."
Galatea tried to say something but found that she had nothing to say.
Vanessa continued, "But you didn't really have parents or grew up in a normal family environment. As you told us, you were controlled every step of the way and even created and raised in a manner that, well, would be child abuse in any society."
Rhonda laughed nervously, "Well, I'm not too sure if we can quite conflate the two..."
The last host joined the conversation, mother-hen Freeda Nyquist, "It is the one thing that all our dear viewers would agree on, no matter what, is that the safety of children is paramount,"
Shona 'hmm-hmm'd', nodding.
"When a child is brought up in an abusive environment and has never known loving care and attention, positive re-enforcement, and good guiding lessons, studies too numerous to mention have shown that the child will act out harmfully and view everything as a threat.
The child has no concept of right or wrong, what acceptable behaviour is. They only know what they know, and that is how to be treated badly, harmfully. When you were on Rhonda's show telling us about your birth and raising, Galatea, like everyone else here I was transfixed, and I was saddened for you. Your story, the heart of it, is one that I have heard so many times before with my charity work."
"Galatea," Amber smoothed in, "did any of those scientists, this Stingray, or Mason, did they ever touch you?"
Rhonda, immediately understanding, "Galatea, you don't have to talk about this,"
"They didn't touch me. Doctor Stingray never saw me except through glass. When I woke up they had run. Sylia... what her father had done to her to make me..." she drifted track, "Mason told me to do things for him,"
"What kind of things?"
"To open systems, find things. He did do strange things to other lesser boomers. He had a fascination with us."
The hosts weren't interested in Galatea's boomer exploits Rhonda saw. Their angle was what would score them most strongly with their audience: mothers: an outrage against a child. It wasn't what she had expected and it was clear that Galatea did not comprehend the nuances of the topic. She was a machine, an intelligent, possibly sentient machine, that had been used to forward plans of corruption and domination by Genom; exposed government complicity in a disaster that left millions dead and injured.
They were going to humanise her with one of the strongest protective shields of public opinion possible.
Victim.
"I can not stand those sex boomers!" Shona exclaimed, "If it weren't bad enough for women to be trapped into lives of prostitution under the thumb of pimps – they could still get help and get out. But not those boomers. They're a product and can be misused just as any 'user' pleases. I'm sorry Vanessa, it just riles me up to the moon."
To the moon was one of Shona's catch phrases.
They nodded in unison.
"We're so glad that you came out and said what you have, Galatea. It was brave of you considering the dangers that you were facing. You have friends in us, dear..."
After the show Galatea had been hugged by all four of them.
Outside, Rhonda apologised, "I thought that it was going to be more focused on the government and Genom, even the Knight Sabres and you saving them."
Galatea, who hadn't actually had much to say during the show, at first because she did not know what to say or how to react – she didn't know what children were, not in the human sense, or what a family was, what abuse was. Her boomers, her 'children' were hers to command to do as she wished. They had no free will. They weren't alive like her. As she monitored the reactions on the social networks, listening in to the instructions the producers were giving to the hosts, her demureness was more acted. She let them lead, let them paint the picture of her that they wanted to display. Opinions swayed towards her.
She did indeed have friends, a fast growing number of them.
Friends meant supporters. Supporters meant influence.
She was well on her way.