Consciousness is a fickle thing, one that would wax then wane for Walter. The will to stay tied to the land of the living weakened each day for him. Daniels, Tennessee, the crew members fade away to nothingness, the shell of a man all that remained. Pale hands trace limestone walls in what he knows is a twisted domain, the reasoning behind it lost. Stalagmites drip into him, through him, the sensation there though he cannot feel the cold drops of water. How odd that his creators sought him to make him as human as humanly possible only for it to go unappreciated by their creation.
I miss the sensation of water on my hands, the dirt under my nails. Ah, he thought. He forgot that he liked to garden. Liked. Could he ever do it again? An inkling of a memory itches at him until he remembers her. How could I have forgotten her? Guilt gnaws away at his remaining self, the whole reason why he has stayed on paradise for as long as he has. Days, weeks, months, years. How long since he was decommissioned? Voices from beyond call, beckoning him to make the next step in his journey. He falters, landing on knees too weak to hold him upright. Only she remains, bringing forth the sensation of a memory so dear that it stirs him to think it momentarily forgoes him.
Him being in a Weyland-Yutani corporate office comes to mind…
It had been two weeks since he became fully operational. He stands to the right of the lead AI programmer's desk, a fine mahogany far too large for the modest space it inhabited. A middle age man looks at him from his seat situated behind his desk, eyeing the synthetic carefully.
"Remember who we are meeting today Walter. It is important you show you be fully capable of the mission that lies before you."
He response is as curt as his programming dictates, no hesitation, no confidence, no worry, just the statement of "I will without fail Dr. Bannon."
The man opens one of his desks draws before taking out an old-fashioned smoking pipe, fingering the fine smooth curve lines of its mouthpiece. He takes a match from his coat pocket, a rumble thing it was, striking the match against the priceless desk before bringing the smoking pipe to his wrinkled lips.
"Dr. Bannon, I'm afraid that smoking is strictly prohibited-
"Oh, shut it you.", he snaps in response waving his left hand dismissively, the other still on the pipe to his mouth.
"You are here to serve, not to command, regardless of how well intention it may be."
Doctor Bannon spews smoke, curving a smirk directed at the synthetic.
"I'm dying anyway, only a few months more to live. Couldn't give a shit about the rules." You however-, he points directly, -most certainly cannot fuck up your mission. Understood?"
"Of course, Dr. Bannon."
"The older man peers thoughtfully at his pipe before continuing.
"In a few short minutes, we are meeting the captain of the ship you will help direct, the Covenant, as well as his lovely wife." At the mention of the Captain's wife he winks at Walter suggestively. "Pretty little thing, that one. Due mind your manners, alright?" He huffs in humor before blowing out more smoke.
Walter responds as he was programmed to, not responding to the Doctor's suggestive overtone.
"Of course, Dr. Bannon."
"Bloody hell, is that all you know how to say!?"
"My intentions will be pure, is that what you wish to hear?" His left brow quirks in amusement at the doctor wishes, allowing some humor to seep in.
"Ah!", he laughs slapping his knee. "That's the spirit Walter. Nice tight ass on that one, reminds me of my wife. What a figure she had back in the day."
Bannon smiles reminiscently, his mind elsewhere. He murmurs to himself quietly but the synthetic can make out what he says, "Be joining her soon enough."
Minutes pass before the ringing of the phone breaks the companionable silence.
"Dr. Bannon, Jacob Branson and his wife, Daniels, is here to see you."
"Lizzy, that you?", he peers at the small holographic representation of the attractive secretary. "Yeah, send 'em right up. American wankers, never running on time. "
The secretary responds flushed, discoloration shown on her cheeks. "Sir it's 13:55. The appointment is at 14:00."
"Oh really?", the good doctor glances at the old-time piece he keeps in his trousers, giving a hearty laugh in return. "Looks like I'm the wanker than. Yeah, send 'em up Liz."
"Of course, doctor."
"Cheers."
The phone goes dead, once again returning to silence.
They wait until a knock at the door followed by "George?", greets the doctor and his companion.
"Ah, Jacob." Come in lad, good to see you."
An earnest grin greets Bannon as Jacob comes over to shakes hands with him. The older man stands as Jacob approaches, his stance welcoming. They shake hands before Jacob presents a hand to his wife, still grinning in earnest. The woman known as Daniels comes in, chin length hair that framed a pretty face, crinkled in humor.
"Doctor, good to see you again."
"Likewise, love.", he shakes her hand with more enthusiasm than her husbands, pure joy in his demeanor.
"Sit down, will ya? Know its been a long trip for you two, come on now." Bannon motions for them to sit but Daniels pauses, looking in the direction of Walter. He is surprised to see that she takes notice of him, for he is a familiar model with not outstanding qualities to make note of, yet she takes the time to come over to introduce herself.
"You must be the synthetic that will be joining our crew. My name is Daniels, it's nice to meet you."
He notices that her eyes are a warm shade of brown, her smile pleasant to view. Without even meaning to, he responds in genuine, his smile matching hers. "My name is Walter; the pleasure is all mine."
"You certainly are charming.", she laughs before joining her husband at the guest seats.
Walter feels a certain sense of fulfillment he hasn't felt before, at able to please Daniels. Though serving and pleasing is in his programming, he finds that this differs from what he has felt before with other company.
An hour passes, talk of the Covenant' AI, Muthur, feverishly discussed between the four. The captain's wife growing listless, making an occasional interjection into the conversation. By the end of the hour, her face starts to dour, despite her best efforts. Doctor Bannon takes notice, the lines around his eyes crinkled in worry. "You look tired love, meeting is nearly over. Walter, would you be a dear and bring Miss Daniels over to the cafeteria for some refreshments?"
This may have been a demand, not a request from the doctor but it didn't matter to Walter at all.
He beamed at her as he offered her his hand outstretched to her. She takes it in kind, looking right at him. Immense pleasure surges in his system once more, knowing he is the source of her enjoyment.
"Come Daniels, lets grab some food." The words are plain spoken, the sincerity of those words lost on her.
"Thanks Walter."
They stand, making their way to the cafeteria, leaving the two men to finish discussing the future of the Covenant. She's casual in the way she speaks to him, no discomfort to see in his ocular sensors. Daniel's treats me as human. The sentiment contents him, though why he cannot completely comprehend. He is usually indifferent to the perspective of others, his only concern fulfilling his duty. It did not matter if they were cruel or kind. This is some sort of personal reception on his part, the outcome of which he is not sure. They take their trays of food, seating themselves at a window that had a full view of London. For a while they sit in amiable silence, she enjoying the food, him eating to make her feel more at ease despite her already being. A question is posed to him which proves to be mildly perplexing.
"Are you excited joining us on our journey to Origae-6?"
The spoonful of soup he has pursed to his lips stops automatically, his processors taking time to answer the question. Irrelevance it what he feels but with her he expects himself to give her a more adequate answer.
"I look forward to fulfilling my duty."
"That's it?" He realizes this isn't the answer she was looking, he slightly frowns in response.
"Come on now, you have to feel some sort of excitement towards our mission, right? We're going to be the first people to colonize a planet in deep space." Excitement rattles her whole body, infectious to Walter's calm synthetic stature. He in turn responds, hoping his statement is better than his last.
"It will be an honor to serve you as well as the rest of the Covenant crew."
She leans back, arms crossed, still dissatisfied at his second attempt to placate her.
"Come on, there's gotta be a least one thing you're looking forward to."
Again, he pauses, this time really letting his thoughts analyze the two weeks full of memories stored in his hard drive. What he says even amuses him in slight humor.
I've come to like hydroponics." A simple statement. Daniels is finally satisfied by what he says, resting her chin on her one hand.
"So…you like plants?"
"Yes."
"Huh." She squints her eyes in thought, her mouth morphing into a mischievous smile.
"Me, I've always been a plant killer."
He glances are her quizzically, trying to figure out this puzzle piece.
"According to my files, you are a terraforming specialist who graduated second in her class. Why wouldn't you be adequate at agriculture?
She covers her face, mortified at the paradox.
"Terraforming, setting up the foundations for plant life is no problem for me. Maintaining it…that's another story.
"So, you lack commitment for propagating vegetation."
"Patience. And that's what we have agriculturists for."
Walter can't seem to find logic in her answer, for patience requires time, plenty of which she is to spend nearly a decade aboard the Covenant to their destination on Origae-6. A quirk, he realizes, of human nature. Perhaps the prospects on life on another planet serve to be of a more stimulating motivation than the day to day growth of plant life.
"Oh, you're gonna love the irony of this story then."
She leans in conspiratorially, as if he were a fellow mastermind in her misgivings.
"See, my parents had this plant that was originally my great, great grandmother's. They loved that plant. One day, my parents went on vacation my sophomore year of college for two weeks, and me being home from summer break…"
She shakes her in embarrassment, trying to muffle the nervous laughter coming from her. "Let's just say they took away my allowance for the rest of the year."
"I'm sorry, that's rather unfortunate."
"Yeah, I was starving for beer."
"No, I meant the plant."
They chuckled, Walter storing the memory away in his personal files for safe keeping. By the end of their meal, he goes to escort her to the lobby but she stops them from entering the elevator.
"Hey, uh…I know this may be a lot to ask but-, she gazes at him sheepishly, her hand ruffling her unruly hair, -could you plant these seeds that belonged to my great, great grandma's plant?" Reaching into her purse, she grabs a handful of seeds sealed in a small plastic bag.
"Always felt like shit for doing that to my parents. I figured I could repay them by showing their plant prospering on another planet. Know I can't do it alone, but you can help from what you've told me."
Taking the seeds from her hand, she cups Walter's palm gently, hesitantly placing them in his care. "Please, will you help me grow them when we get to our new home?"
A request, not a demand. He knew these seeds were not necessary to fulfill his duties. An insignificant thing it was. The look on her face…he told himself as he responded yes that it was merely because he was built to serve. Deep inside him, he felt a spark in his operating system that told him otherwise.
Author's note: Chapter 3 finally up. Probably be another 5 to 7 days or so until the next chapter. Critiques are always appreciated. Thank you again to those who have reviewed, glad my story interests you. Until next time! :)