Rith’s star peeked out from the horizon, the sky forming red and yellow fractals in the planet's unique atmosphere. Light peeking through the shutters at the perfect angle to hit Aurelia in the eyes. She rolled over to gaze at the sleeping android. Her chest would rise and fall slowly, a simulated breathing. She couldn’t help but feel a little giddy that her work was so lifelike, the way she spoke, the way she acted, and the way she looked. She reached out, her fingers grazing Isobel's arm with her weathered fingers. The skin was warm to the touch, but the skin was just as soft as it was when she was deactivated. Aurelia closed her eyes in contentment, happy and in many ways fulfilled that her work had come to fruition. She sighed, not wanting to move, but her stomach was telling her otherwise.
I need to eat.
She carefully crept out of bed, as not to disturb Isobel, and disappeared into her closet. She eventually emerged wearing her “Knives in the Nation” singlet. and just before she went out the door, she heard sleepy groans coming from behind her. Isobel's eyes fluttered open, as if it were the first time she had woken.
“Good morning Isobel, did you sleep okay?” Aurelia grabbed her lab coat from the door hook, and slid it on.The android nodded with a puzzled look on her face.
“I think so. It was a strange experience. I feel as if I experienced memories in my sleep, but they all felt odd and hard to grasp. My ability to remember them seems to be slipping by the moment.”
Aurelia could not contain the expression of sheer glee written all over her face. “I was skeptical the dream module would work properly, but I am overcome with joy that it is working as intended. Your dreams are a way of processing memories, from important to unimportant. It is an imperfect way to do so, but most known species do it. Your brain will choose what to put into conscious memory, while the rest will be put into a subconscious memory.”
Aurelia was nearly bouncing in excitement, shaking her spare hand in glee.
“You have storage space equal to about two hundred humans, and your programs have been designed to bring things up into conscious memory when relevant. It took forty years just to program that alone. If you ever remember your dreams, please tell me about them, I would love nothing more than to hear your interpretations of them.”
Isobel sat herself up but, but Aurelia held her hand up. “Stay in bed a bit longer, wake up a bit, then have Addison direct you to the kitchen where you can get something to eat.” Aurelia lingered in the doorway, and looked over her shoulder.
“Oh, and when you are done, Addison can show you to the garden. There are many things I wish to discuss with you, and I will answer any questions you may have. I need to eat, and check on some… things.”
With that, Isobel was left alone in the room to her own swirling thoughts.
“It’s your job to convince her to our side, and bring her here should she disagree to your terms. She’s too far valuable an asset to let anyone else have her.” The figure at the desk spoke with a slight rasp, his claws tapping away at the desk as if he were bored.
“What do you want me to do should she, uh, disagree with my pitch?” responded the only other figure in the room, a short, stout, unassuming man. The suit he wore fit him poorly, as if it were two sizes too large and he carried a brown leather suitcase in one hand.
“Alive at any cost. Limb’s are inconsequential, just make sure you don't do anything too fatal. I’ve heard rumors the Guul have sent diplomats to bring her to their territory. You need to have her within the next seven days, or it will be too late. We need her now, before- Well you don’t need to know.” the figure on the desk spoke without looking up from his papers on the desk.
“Seven days is not enough time, sir. No craft in the galaxy could make it that far in that amount of time”
The dark figure tapped a scaled claw on the desk, his imposing presence would have been terrifying for most people, but the human was not ‘most’ people.
“I am about to share with you highly classified information. None of this is to leave this room.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Good. You’ve been our preferred contractor, it would be a shame if you were to retire early. You know the wormhole generators that became commonplace in every system? She was the one who designed it. She was 15 at the time. It took us forty years to create a smaller version that could fit on out largest capital ships, and another 40 to create one small enough to fit on a small passenger liner.”
“That will be handy.”
“Indeed. You will be going to Rith, a failed colony planet that she bought herself. She likely has eyes on the wormhole generator on the edge of the system, and will have likely barricaded herself in her fortress-like laboratory. Do not underestimate her. She is three times your age, and I doubt she will come easily.”
“Yes sir.” The man nodded, his cold eyes refusing to give off any sort of emotion.
The dark figure stood up from his desk, his height rising until he stood a full two feet taller than the contractor. “Let me take you to the military hanger.”
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