Chapter Nine: Restless Nights — Part 6

The Mankiller Subtext, Memory Transference. Part 5 . . .

Elec remembered all of this through the haze of bitter disdain mixed with a heart-wrenching nostalgia. She loved her creations — every android she had ever built she loved with the cherishing of a mother. Yap she had loved in a most polarized fashion, because it mirrored a woman she was thoroughly impassioned by, and because it carried that woman’s seed. Seeing Yap in the present, torn apart from a fight that seemed as impersonal as the last assassination attempt had been, brought some of that rage back, and the lust to kill that came with it. Something in her snapped open, an unconscious realization become conscious. By the time Yap returned from the technicians, fully repaired, several hours had passed, and Elec had suffered not only a bout of introspection, but had fully developed it into a rather well constructed decision. In having been reminded that Yap was indeed an android, in having to remember that Yap would eventually expunge her hume innards and replace them with android equivalences, and that Yap would live for countless centuries in permanent youth, Elec was forced to remember that she did not love this android, and she decided, in loving this machine, this poor duplication of her one true love, she might well be betraying that love. Rather than step directly to the issue, Elec chose instead to justify it.

“I had a talk with Chen.” Elec said.

“Yeah?”

“The conversation was a brief one, but the situation was resolved satisfactorily. I’m applying a no harm, no foul policy. We negotiated a legitimate deal. He’ll accept the sales of equipment and biodroids programmed for mining, fishing, and farming on Zon — no biodroids designed for assassination or as weapons of war. It’s a big contract, meant to give half a billion people on a planet the advanced technology they’re starving for. I’ve decided to retool the entire city and advertise myself as legitimate in this new venture. On a side note, I am dismissing you and all illegitimate associations from my life. It is time for you to leave.”

“Leave to where?” Yap asked.

“Anywhere but here.” Elec said. “You’re leaving my bed and you’re not coming back.”

“But I find comfort in being with you.” Yap said. “I thought you loved me.”

Elec paused, her eyes expressing mild annoyance, “How could I love a machine? You were just something I put together to get me through, something to help me ensure her continuance, and this last thing you can well do without my help. I’m through. It’s over. So leave.”

“Yes, but the experiences we had implied to me that you and I shared similar levels of coherence.” Yap spoke quietly.

“You were quite the fuck.” Elec said, as if admitting a concession, all the while staring coldly into Yap’s eyes.

There was what passed for a delay as Yap assessed the dark cruelty she had mistaken for love. Yap’s hand slammed out in an open slap, pausing just before Elec’s cheek. Had she finished the slap, Elec’s skull, jaw, and neck would have been shattered. Elec didn’t flinch, knowing full well that Yap could not hurt her creator. The two stared at each other, Yap finishing the slap at a speed and with only enough force to leave a pink hand mark on Elec’s cheek.

“Am I to leave those things most precious to me behind?” Yap said, when it was apparent that Elec would not try to strike back.

“You can take your possessions with you.” Elec said. “Be gone in an hour.”

It took the android a matter of minutes to put her meager possessions in a small shoulder pack and depart Elec’s quarters. A knife, a magnetic pistol, some food, and her private journal — a digital and handwritten back up of memories she considered important — were all Yap could call her own. Yap packed with the speed and grace of an android in a hurry. She hefted the weighty pack to her shoulder, and headed to her work center, to say farewell to her friends. As her only hume friend in the world had stopped talking to her, Yap left Elec without saying another word.