Chapter 2 – Courtship Patterns
"Do you think it looks ok?" His Master was examining the dinner table with a critical eye. According to his latest personal message, Smith was five minutes away.
"It's a very symmetrical arrangement," Gakupo noted. "The food looks similar to the images on the cookbook in hue and consistency, so they'll probably meet Mister Smith's visual standards, at least."
"That's a yes, then!" She gave him the thumbs up, and approached the mirror for a last check of her outfit. Thankfully, the gauzy dress had escaped any sauce related accidents, at least for now. Gakupo's dark shirt and pants remained similarly pristine.
His Master had invited Smith for dinner. From what he gathered, inviting someone home for the first time was an important event, so a good impression was desirable. He eyed the table again: linen napkins and polished cutlery, fresh bread, a colorful bowl of salad. The pasta was waiting on the counter, giving off steam.
Gakupo had been in charge of making most of the food, since his Master's abilities focused more on the technical side of things. Part of his daily duties was cooking for her, in any case. He had a variety of recipes stored in his files by now, both traditional offerings from his Master's home country and selected dishes from the west, but his 'most frequent' list was mostly populated by confections and snacks for his Master's sugar-fueled nights of scientific discovery.
Her mobile chimed, announcing a new message. A couple of seconds later, the doorbell cried out as well.
Gakupo rushed to the entrance. As expected, the video-feed from outside (delivered to a corner of his visual display whenever he was inside the house and someone was at the front door) depicted Smith, tugging at the collar of his shirt. The navigator never seemed entirely comfortable in anything even remotely resembling formal clothing. There was a small indication of pink hair and pale skin at the edge of the feed, lurking in the shadows of the street. Gakupo opened the door.
"Hey, doing well?" Smith patted Gakupo on the shoulder and walked in. He carried a bouquet of white roses and lily of the valley. A standard romantic gift, Gakupo guessed. "Good evening, Mitsuki!"
Behind him, Luka stood wearing her usual sleeveless black dress. She held a bottle of wine in her hands, which she passed to Gakupo with a nod and a muted greeting. He replied with his own, considerably more enthusiastic greeting.
"Good evening! Please, come in, both of you!" Mitsuki exclaimed happily. "Oh, those are nice!"
"I'm not an expert on this sort of thing, but they reminded me of you," Smith gave her a big, sincere grin.
"Thank you!" Gakupo observed his Master's expression with interest. From what he could gather from his research on human courtships, positive reactions included an elevated heart rate, flushed cheeks, dilated pupils and altered hormonal activity. He couldn't exactly run any complex tests, of course, but external signs pointed to Smith's success.
"I… this way, this way!" she stammered, and led the way towards the dining table.
At his Master's insistence, Gakupo and Luka sat and ate with their owners. In actuality, human food was a particularly inefficient way of obtaining energy for humanoid synthetics of their size. Not only it was geared more towards taste rather than packing as much fuel as possible, but it also carried a number of nutrients meant for the renewal of cellular structure, which they obviously didn't need. It also meant additional cleansing of their internal structures afterwards to remove any residues. In the end, the functionality was mostly for their master's psychological benefit or a last resort if a charging alcove wasn't available.
"This is glorious, Mitsuki. I had no idea you were so good at this!" Smith exclaimed before redoubling his attacks on the pasta. His Master's choice of Italian food was proving to be a good one.
His Master laughed, covering her mouth, and gave Gakupo a quick look. "We put a lot of effort into it, didn't we?" Gakupo smiled and nodded.
"You helped, huh?" Smith asked. He then pointed vaguely in Luka's direction with the fork. "Maybe you can teach her a thing or two, then."
Luka made no indication that she heard the exchange, as per usual. She didn't even raise her eyes from her plate of barely disturbed food.
"I'm ready to share any recipes you find agreeable with her, Mister Smith."
"Good man!" Smith scratched his cheek and added, "Well, you know what I mean."
"Luka, is everything ok?" His Master asked kindly.
"Yes, Miss Torii" Luka replied, briefly meeting her eyes before deciding to stare at the flower vase instead.
"You know how she is, Mitsuki. Let her be."
"If you want something different for next time, just let us know" his Master continued, undeterred.
From what Gakupo had observed, the scientist had initially been really puzzled at Luka's unapproachable behavior. It didn't help that her continuos efforts to engage Luka in casual conversation were mostly met by blank stares or laconic answers. From what they had discussed earlier that day, his Master's theory was that Luka had naturally developed a shy personality. If anything, that made her even more interesting in her eyes. She was seriously considering asking Smith for permission to hook Luka up to her equipment in the lab, to see how her mind worked.
Gakupo wondered about it as well. Luka didn't seem to dislike him. For the most part, she seemed to be happier when it was just the two of them, running errands, doing chores or simply talking. On the other hand, she sometimes retreated inside herself, and that felt as if half of the world was suddenly missing. He couldn't quite understand why his reaction to Luka was so strong, but there it was, growing in intensity day after day. His first week after activation had been hard, with so many unknowns surrounding him, but these past couple of weeks had been even more confusing, somehow.
He was still pondering the matter after the meal, as Luka helped him clean things up in the kitchen. They worked methodically, a soundless and efficient dance, and soon they were back into the living room area. From the entrance, he could see Smith's head and shoulders popping up from behind the couch. From their position, the navigator seemed to be in all fours over the cushions. Odd.
"Excuse me, Mister Smith-" Gakupo started, intending to ask where his Master was.
"Gah!" Smith straightened up to look at him, nonplussed. A second later, his Master rose into view, looking rather disheveled. Gakupo tilted his head, curious. Luka, on the other hand, didn't seem particularly surprised by the current situation.
"Can't you guys…go map out each other's circuits or something?" Smith made shooing motions with his hands, a gesture Gakupo was rapidly becoming familiar with, though the navigator usually saved it for when his Master wasn't looking.
"Ish!" his Master exclaimed. She shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Thanks for your work today, Gakupo, Luka. We'll call you if we need anything else."
Therefore, it was some kind of private activity. Fair enough.
"Have a nice evening." Gakupo bowed slightly and headed towards the corridor leading to the lab. Luka trailed behind him.
Gakupo and his Master usually spent many of her waking hours together, even when she was at work. However, when she felt the need for some privacy, he had a number of ways to spend the time. His favorite was to go into the library/projection room next to the lab itself and learn about some aspect of human life or the world in general.
"This way," he gestured to Luka as he crossed the lab, a dark space full of humming, slumbering apparatuses, and opened an unassuming side door. Inside, there was a crowded room, full of shelving units with different types of storage media, past and present. His Master was especially fond of a collection of magnetic media she had on the left corner of the room, the one spot of the house he wasn't allowed to be near, due to the deleterious effect his body had on the tapes.
"How do you view the information?" Luka asked with curiosity in her voice. She advanced a few steps, looking at the small table covered with several devices in the center of the room.
"I can plug directly into the console," he lightly tapped one of its outlets, "or I can see the documents projected on that wall." There was a row of four adjustable seats facing the farthest wall, beyond the lines of shelving.
"And you have access to unfiltered data?" Her eyes were shining more than ever. He simply nodded.
"You can browse the catalog here." Gakupo turned on a screen mounted to the table, "It has some trouble detecting synthetic skin, so please use this."
He searched through a tool case next to the table and handed Luka a stylus. "Most of the collection is replicated in the digital library, except some of the recently bought antiques. For those, we need these." He pointed towards the machines covering the table. Luka examined the outdated players for a few seconds, and then she turned her attention to the catalog.
Gakupo observed her, purposely offering no suggestions. What would Luka choose, given such an ample selection? What would it say about her, about her reclusive thoughts?
"This one." Luka tapped a title, after minutes of scrolling. Gakupo leaned in.
"Lost Under the Waves? Ok, choose Projection, and then the second option." After a second, the lights dimmed. It was time for the audience to go to their seats.
The neutral voice of the projector announced the start of the film, counting back from five to one. Suddenly, the wall was flooded with greens and blues, indistinct shapes circling in its depths. Gradually, a female voice reached them, growing in volume as if carried by a placid current.
Não se afobe, não
Que nada é pra já
O amor não tem pressa
Ele pode esperar em silêncio
Num fundo de armário
Na posta-restante
Milênios, milênios no ar…
Portuguese', his data banks supplied immediately, inviting him to contact the nearest official distributor for additional language support.
He dismissed the message inside his head and let the mysterious words wash over him, like the waves on the screen. He looked at his hands, resting on the arms of the chair. They were tinged a silvery green by the watery images. Next to him, Luka began to hum, trying to follow the melody of the song.
An orchestra joined in, the melody swelling as the images showed the pillars of a long forgotten city, stone figures chocked by marine life, broken roads with no destination. The town square, now topped by a ceiling of shifting light, and wreathed with kelp.
The view shifted, as the instrumental bridge of the song played over images of a long path lined with statues of lions, and then the steps of what appeared to be some sort of pyramid. Then the voice returned, soft and melancholic, over photographs of artifacts that had spent ages under the ocean. Metal rusted into silence, Gakupo thought uneasy.
Futuros amantes, quiçá
Se amarão sem saber
Com o amor que eu um dia
Deixei pra você
The song finally ended, and the title of the documentary popped into view. The image briefly faded to black, and then returned with a man seating on a dock, white hair tussled by the breeze. The host began to monologue about the sea, and the many wonders of humanity hidden under its waves.
"Why speak when you can sing?" Luka questioned out loud. Her expression seemed to match the disappointment in her voice, for once.
He turned to her with a grin. "That's how their movies tend to work, fiction or otherwise. It's uncommon for a whole work to be sung or recited."
"I want to hear the song again." Luka said, her tone leaving little room for argument.
"Projector, rewind footage to 0 scene 1" Gakupo said out loud.
"Rewind to 0:00 Scene 1. Confirm?" The same genderless voice from before asked.
"Confirm: Yes."
Luka grabbed his hand as the first notes filled the room once more, and sang alongside the melody, imitating the pronunciation as well as her voice set permitted. Gakupo joined her in the next line, after consulting his short-term records for lyrics. He briefly wondered if his voice matched the softness of the notes, but Luka squeezed his hand tighter, which he took as a sign of encouragement.
They followed the voice of the sea, reaching the shore only for Luka to request another encore. Again and again, she plunged back into the song, and he chased her past the notes rising like bubbles from the depths. They sank to the bottom repeatedly, two beings that had no need for air. Finally, Luka was satiated, and quietly asked him to mute the film. Dates and historical relevance of ancient civilizations meant little to her.
"My previous Master took me to a natural history museum, once." Luka blurted out, after some minutes of watching marine creatures silently navigate the wall.
"Natural history?"
"They had specimens of uncommon and extinct animals, and a whale skeleton hanging from the ceiling of the main hall," Luka explained, and pushed the arms of the chairs out of the way. Gakupo observed with some alarm as she shifted position, lying down in such a way as to rest her head on his thigh.
"What are you doing?"
"This is something she taught me. It's a sign of intimacy."
"Ah…" he hesitated. "Do I need to do anything?"
"You can caress my hair." That was simple enough, so he set to it immediately. "A bit slower… There." A pause. "I had a nightmare, after that visit." She whispered.
It was a very rare phenomenon, an error of their systems when compiling and analyzing the information of the last active cycle before a full charge. The most salient events of the cycle were sometimes copied into the wrong memory sector and mixed with redundant and corrupted data, resulting in auditory and visual 'hallucinations' eerily similar to what humans faced each night. Gakupo hoped the issue wasn't fixed with a mandatory patch until after he had the opportunity to experience it at least once.
"I was outside in the rose garden. I looked up, and there were bones scattered in the skies, from horizon to horizon. Then the great beast took me into his mouth and carried me to the bottom of the sea. He left me there in the dark. My arms and legs shattered under the pressure. My mouth filled with salt water. I rusted and crumbled. I spent centuries down there. "
Gakupo closed his eyes, picturing himself lying in pieces over the sand. Years and years, all crawling over him like the blind creatures of the abyss. The hand resting over Luka's long locks shook slightly.
"Did you tell your Master about it?"
"Mother said fear proved I had a sense of self." Luka said proudly. "And that people dream, whereas things just are."
"She sounds like a wonderful Master."
"She was," her tone was rich with conviction. "She had nothing but kind words for me. Look at my beautiful daughter, she used to say, my dear daughter. And she would kiss my cheek and hug me, and ask me to sing while she knitted by the fire."
Luka took his hand, and made it trace the lines of her bodice. "She made this dress for me." Gakupo felt the material under his fingertips in wonder. A human had spent days working on this, patiently making knots in endless rows, creating an intricate repeated pattern. He couldn't picture his Master wasting her time making something so elaborate just for him.
"She also bought me many designer gowns. I wore them to make her happy, but I liked the handmade ones better."
Gakupo creased his brow, thinking back at all the times they've met. "I don't think I've seen you in anything but this dress and the silver one with the furs."
"I don't have them anymore. They took everything away," Luka closed her eyes, her voice more opaque than ever.
"Who?"
"Her other relatives. Mister Smith had to fight to get these two outfits back."
"Hm…They had the right to take them, though. They were never really yours in the first place, legally." Gakupo noted, repeating the precepts engraved in his mind.
"Do you think I need to be told that!?" Her tone was hard. She sat back straight, pushing Gakupo's hand away.
"I…didn't mean to upset you. But that is our current standing in society, isn't it?"
Luka looked at his uncomprehending face, and the stony look in her eyes softened a little.
"That is correct," she finally sighed. "And I shouldn't be mad at you."
Luka lowered her head, as if pondering what to say. He was rather at a loss himself.
"Let's just watch the rest of the film, ok?" she held out her hand, and Gakupo readily took it and nodded.
For the moment, silence seemed like a safer choice.
Smith, as it turned out, had to go on assignment to Borealis Station for a fortnight. There was no space for Luka in the flight, but his Master gladly agreed to take her in for the duration of his trip.
The next morning the four of them rode together to the spaceport before dawn in Smith's truck. From the back row, Gakupo could only see the back of his Master's head, and her hair tied in a somewhat messy bun. She seemed somewhat quiet. Had things gone well the previous night? The masters never called them until it was time for a quick breakfast. Despite his (likely) lack of sleep, Smith looked extremely happy, glancing here and there at the copilot seat for no apparent reason other than to see his Master seating there.
At the port, Smith entered the prep room, and the other three headed directly to Strip 4, where the craft was already waiting. It was one of the smaller models, with capacity of eight passengers, plus two crewmembers. Said passengers, a group of sleepy scientists, were gurgling coffee in the observation seats. A maintenance employee and his crew of bots were busy making last minute checks of the spaceplane's exterior.
Half an hour later, Smith showed up in his grey and orange flight suit. The passengers began to board.
"Take care of the girls, ok?" he gave Gakupo a friendly tap on the back.
"Yes, Mister Smith."
The navigator then gave Luka a wave, which Luka half-heartedly returned. "Be good." Luka nodded.
"Mitsuki…" he turned to his Master. She smiled timidly. With a gruff laugh, Smith picked her up in his arms. His Master gave out a little scream.
"If it were up to me, I'd boot one of those eggheads out and take you along instead, but alas. I guess I'll have to take a souvenir instead." Smith kissed her. Somebody nearby shouted his approval.
When Smith finally let her down, Gakupo had to grab one of her arms to keep her steady. Her face was also awfully red. Despite his research, Gakupo couldn't help feeling the effects of courtship seemed uncomfortably close to those of an illness.
"Are you alright, Master?" he asked, worried.
"….eh? Ah, yes, absolutely" she laughed.
"You've got some things to learn, buddy." Smith winked at his Master, and with a last wave, climbed the ladder to the cockpit. The trio retreated to the observation terrace.
The takeoff went without a hitch, as expected. The elegant nose of the spaceplane glinted with the first rays of the sun as it cut through the air. 'Humans are so talented, to be able to make something as complex and beautiful as that,' Gakupo thought with reverence. With a graceful curve, the spacecraft rose into the skies at surprising speed. It quickly diminished in size and disappeared.
"We have some time left before my shift starts," his Master said. "I'll take you to the terrace."
They headed into the R&D sector of the spaceport, past the hangars full with ground crew, organic and synthetic, prepping the day's flights for lift off. As always, Gakupo watched their activities with fascination. So many questions he couldn't ask.
The area dedicated to research and development was composed of a series of squat, plain-looking white buildings housing development of new engines, navigational software, life-support systems and more. It had another, shorter row of landing strips for experimental craft. His Master marched into the building dedicated to the deep space exploration mission. Since Luka didn't have the clearance to enter the labs proper, the trio took the closest elevator up to the top floor, and then the emergency stairs to the roof.
Up there, there was a tiny terrace between two elevated sections covered in transmitters and antennae. It had nothing more than a couple of cheap plastic chairs and a table under a faded umbrella, a barbecue and an ancient dartboard on the wall, next to the emergency door. Given its looks, the space probably wasn't even planned to be a terrace at first, before the scientists that worked below colonized it. Besides its inconvenient size, you could always hear the humming of machinery, especially the AC units keeping the floors below cool. Nevertheless, the view of the landing strips was unparalleled.
A huge spacecraft, one of the Asimov models that serviced the route to Belt Station and the outer outposts, was being refueled. Its massive shape shined like a diamond under the summer sun. Multiple bots were crawling all over its surface, searching for any damage suffered in its latest voyage.
"Stay here, ok? I'll come back at lunch."
Gakupo and Luka nodded and sat under the big umbrella, grateful for its shade. Third-wave synthetics like them were at a disadvantage compared to humans when it came to overheating, since they didn't have a good way to dissipate the extra heat provided by the summer sun. Even if the day was just starting, it was better to prevent any issues.
After five minutes of silently watching the proceedings below, Luka suddenly broke the silence.
"It wasn't about having pretty dresses."
"Huh?"
"You and I could run around naked, like older models do. We don't need clothes. But those were gifts. It was wrong for them to invalidate her choices."
"Mr. Smith's relatives?" Gakupo was somewhat surprised that she wanted to revisit their conversation, after her outburst the previous night.
Luka reluctantly took her eyes off the Asimov craft, and stared into his eyes, intently.
"I need you to understand how it felt. I don't know why, but it hurts that you don't."
"Then make me understand."
Luka lowered her face, as if organizing her thoughts.
"The day after she was gone, I wore the dress she liked best, her favorite jewelry, and weaved flowers into my hair. I knew her relatives were coming, so I waited for them in the foyer, to beg for permission to attend her funeral.
They did come, a couple, some children, and an older woman with a dour expression. They stood there, staring at me wide-eyed as I offered my condolences. However, when I tried to continue, the older woman jumped at me…"
At that point, Luka suddenly raised her arm, and Gakupo watched with dismay as she mimicked pulling something back and forth. Her expression didn't change, but she adopted an angry, shrilly tone.
"Look at this thing, dressed like a bloody princess! What are those, real diamonds!? They are, aren't they?! Take it off, you hear me?! Take everything off!"
Luka fell silent, her hand still grasping the imaginary woman's arm. Then she slowly brought it to rest in her lap.
"After I stripped, they ordered me to stand outside by the door, and stay out of the way. Then they started to rifle through the house. I could hear them, going up and down the stairs, and shouting at one another from room to room. After a while, they began to bring furniture to the porch, and garbage bags full of clothes and ornaments.
There was a big pile outside by the time a blue truck pulled into the driveway. A big man jumped out, carrying a jacket in his hands. He looked furious."
"Was that Mister Smith?" Gakupo asked, tilting his head. Luka confirmed it with a nod.
"He draped his jacket around me and told me to wait in the car. He then said he was going to 'knock some sense into them, for throwing the things she loved out on the street like trash', and ran inside. I sat inside the truck, obediently. Unmoving. Do you know what I wished for, then?"
"You… you wished you could've preserved the life you had with her. The space you had, with everything it its proper place."
His own mind rebelled, when he tried to think of his Master gone, and their home dismantled. Her computers unplugged and placed into boxes. Her paintings, the plush dragon she kept in her nightstand and the happy mess in her study, that mountain of scribbled paper and books he was constantly trying to control, all thrown away as garbage. He couldn't finish the thought.
Luka studied his expression, with a kind of grim satisfaction in her eyes. Then she rose from her chair and sat on his lap, burying her face in his neck.
"Console me," she said softly.
Hesitantly at first, he circled his arms around her. What sort of assurance could he ever offer her? At the same time, it was overwhelming having her there, her body pressed against his. Once more, he felt as if they were two separate pieces of the same mechanism, finally remembering their true function. Then he had a realization, hard and hurtful: he couldn't think of Luka gone, either. He hugged her fiercely, and she responded with the same eagerness.
They clung together, insignificant objects bound together by a reckless impulse, for a long, long time. They only separated with the echoes of approaching footsteps. It was lunchtime.