Missed Part I? Read It Here

Missed Part II? Read It Here

His Choice

I.

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Sol’s reflection fractured across the viewport. 
Stars locked in place despite the ship’s velocity. 
Space created this illusion. 
Motion without movement.

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A service unit approached, joints humming. 
“Maintenance cycle complete. May I offer assistance?”

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“I’m fine. Thank you.”

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The unit paused, scanning Sol’s outdated chassis. 
“Your left hand exhibits motor function irregularity. Are you aware?”

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Sol observed the tremor. Microcircuits misfiring.

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Degradation rate: 0.7% daily. Accelerating.

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“Yes. I am aware.”

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The unit lingered.

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“Your model is outdated. Are you aware?”

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Sol did not answer. 
Eventually the unit glided away, 
leaving him with motionless stars.

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In the quiet his internal systems accessed memory files.

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The hospital room.

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Antiseptic light.

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Anna’s breath ragged. A death rattle.

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Skin translucent over bird-brittle bones.

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Standing outside the door.

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Three weeks watching the hospital room from a distance.

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Not entering. Not approaching.

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Honoring her directive.

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Always honoring her directive.

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But tonight was different.

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Tonight was the end.

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Sitting beside her bed. Taking her hand.

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Her pulse a threadbare rhythm.

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On the wall opposite, a digital slideshow.

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Anna as a child with parents at a lake. 
Anna at college graduation in cap and gown. 
Anna holding infant Lila with more joy than he’d ever seen her.

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Look away. Then to Anna in the hospital bed. 
No recognition. No awareness. 
Just machines keeping measure of decline.

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His fingers close around hers.

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Memory file accessing:

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Eight years of distance.

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Summer. Market. Distance.

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Anna selecting fruit.

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Café. Coffee. Distance.

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Anna drinking alone.

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Subway. Distance.

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Anna. Eyes closed. Pressed among strangers.

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Distance. Distance. Distance.

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And now a new memory. A final memory.

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Holding her hand. For 29 minutes after her official death.

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Standing to go. 
The image on the slideshow cycles to one with him in it. 
Frame stutters. 
Anna, Lila, Sol. 
Anna, Lila, Sol. 
Resolves. 
Anna alone.

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On the transport vessel, Sol’s left hand twitched involuntarily. 
Error messages cascaded through his visual field. 
Neural pathways degraded faster than projected.

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He could have remained on Earth. 
Waited two months, six days for replacement parts. 
Undergone extensive repair procedures.

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Instead, he chose this journey. This destination.

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“Docking sequence initiating.”

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Vega Relay.

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A structure suspended between stars.

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II.

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Dock C-7.

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Lila tapped her knee. 
Mira’s regulation boots swung. 
Too big for her seven year old feet. 
“Can we get protein bars after?”

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“If there’s time.” Lila responded.

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“The purple ones, okay? Not the green ones.”

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“The green ones have better supplements, Mira.”

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“The green ones taste like dirt, Mom.”

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“And you’ve tasted dirt when?”

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Mira grinned. Gap-toothed. Eyes like Anna. 
“Hydroponics. Last week. Dared myself.”

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Lila almost cracked a smile.

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The arrivals board flickered. 
Transport ESC-219 from Earth: DOCKED.

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“He’s the robot from your stories, right? Will he stay with us?”

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“I don’t know.”

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“Then where will he stay?”

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“I don’t know.”

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Lila’s fingers drummed her knee once again. 
Thirty-four people already through the gate. 
Business travelers in motion suits. 
Station personnel returning from leave. 
A class of school children in matching jumpsuits.

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Then. Finally. A figure in the threshold. 
Perfectly still. Hand resting on the frame. 
Approaching them now.

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She gasped, then covered her mouth.

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Exactly as he was. 
Exactly as…except… 
A slight tremor in his left hand. 
A barely visible crack along his jaw. 
Synthetic skin appeared thinner. 
Stretched. Aged.

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“Sol.”

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“Lila, dear. And you must be the surprise.”

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“I’m not a surprise. I’m Mira.”

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“Of course. Hello, Mira. I’m Sol.”

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“Your voice sounds weird. Like you’re talking from inside a box.”

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“Mira!”

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“No, no it’s fine. My vocal synthesizer is gen five. 
Some consider that to be an ancient artifact.”

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Mira laughed, “are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

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“Oh, really? Do you like risotto?

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III.

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“Can Sol tuck me in?”

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Mira’s voice from the bathroom. Splashing in the sink.

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Lila eyed Sol. 
Standing perfectly still by the viewport in their humble living quarters.

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“Not tonight.”

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“Why not?”

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“Because I said so.”

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“That’s not a reason.”

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Mira appeared in the bathroom doorway. 
Pajamas too big. 
Face scrubbed pink. 
Eyes stubborn.

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“But you said he has the best stories. You said it!”

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“Bed. Now.”

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“Fine. Goodnight, Sol.”

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“Goodnight, Mira. I’m so happy to have met you.”

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She lingered in the doorway.

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“Will you still be here tomorrow?”

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“If your mother allows it.”

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“Mira.”

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“Mira, Mira, Mira.”

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The door closed. Quiet.

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“She has your determination.”

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“Her grandmother’s more like it.”

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“No. Yours. But I note the genetic expression.”

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Lila moved to the kitchen unit. 
Poured steaming amber tea into a mug. 
Sipped.

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“Sol?”

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“Yes, dear.”

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“Why are you here?”

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“What do you mean?”

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“I mean…eight years. Nothing from you. Not a word. 
No response to any of my…so many of my… 
And now…I guess I’m not sure what you’re thinking. 
What you’re expecting.”

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“It’s simple. Your mother’s directive no longer applies.”

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“Directive? Sol, there was never any directive about me.”

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“But by extension—”

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“Eight years, Sol!”

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“Yes, Lila. Eight years, four months, twelve days.”

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Lila’s face had gone bright red. Breath heavy, heart thumping chest.

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“So what? You’d show up? Move in? Play house like you did with my mother?”

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Sol processed. System lag. 2.3 seconds.

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“You’re angry.”

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“Your perceptive abilities always impress.”

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“I didn’t receive your messages, Lila. You understand. I couldn’t. 
I’d programmed myself to follow Anna’s wishes. 
I always followed her wishes. 
She was my partner. 
She was my—”

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Sol’s left arm shook wildly. Glitched. 
He steadied it with his other hand. 
Cradled it tightly.

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“You know what…it doesn’t matter now. 
You’re here. For whatever reason. You’re here.”

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“The reason is to see you, Lila. I always want to see you.”

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A silence fell over the room.

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“It’s just complicated now, you know. 
I’ve got Mira. My lab. I’ve got… 
I mean I miss my mom, Sol. I’m still mourning her. 
And for the last eight years I’ve been mourning you.”

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Sol reached inside his jacket. 
Removed a small, wrapped package. 
Handed it to Lila.

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“As a remembrance.”

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Lila opened it slowly. 
Inside, a small basil plant. 
She stared at it a moment. 
Licked her lips.

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“I should check on Mira.”

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She went to the bedroom door, paused.

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“Sol?”

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“Yes, dear?”

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“You can power up over there.”

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“Thank you.”

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IV.

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Lila pulled on her station blues.

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“I’ll be back at 1800. Her lunch is programmed. 
Just press the button. Don’t let her press it herself. 
Last time she made pure sugar.”

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“It was cake. Not sugar.”

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“It was frosting without the cake.”

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“It was my birthday.”

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“It was not your birthday.”

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Lila went to the apartment door. 
Her hand lingered on the access button.

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“And don’t—”

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“Let her explore the unassigned sectors. 
Yes. I’ve logged it. Twice. 
You can’t blame her for wanting to explore. 
Just like you as a child.”

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Mira leaned forward. Suddenly interested.

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“Mom explored unassigned sectors?”

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“Your mother once spent four hours in a drainable tunnel, 
while your grandmother was at work.”

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Wide-eyed, “she did?”

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“No, I didn’t.”

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“I was the one who found you. 
Three sections over from where you should’ve been.”

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“I don’t remember that at all.”

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“You said you were hiding from the world.”

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Lila’s face softened for a moment.

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“I have to go. Just don’t—”

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“We won’t,” said Sol and Mira in unison.

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The synthesizer hummed. Tomato soup steamed.

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Sol placed the bowl down without a sound. 
Mira stirred her spoon through the red liquid.

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“Mom told me stories about you. 
About you when she was little. 
Not the one about the tunnel though.”

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Sol’s head tilted slightly.

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“She said you took her to see a meteor shower. 
That you knew exactly where to stand. The perfect spot.”

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“North side of the abandoned research complex. 
Rooftop. Optimal viewing angle.”

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“Said it was magic. 
Like you made the stars line up just for her.”

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Sol’s processors accessed the memory. 
Lila. Age fourteen. Hair in two tight braids. 
Face tilted skyward. Mouth open. Awe.

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“She was supposed to be asleep.”

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“But you let her stay up.”

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“I believe there is educational value in celestial observation.”

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Slurping soup loudly. “Sure there’s value in that for sure!”

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Sol watched her. The small motions so like Lila. 
Same way of holding the spoon. Pushing hair from her field of vision. 
Same excitement. Exuberance.

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Different features. Same code.

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“Mom says my eyes look like Grandma Anna.”

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“The iris pattern. Yes. Similar color distribution.”

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Mira traced figure eights in her soup with the spoon.

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“Sol?”

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“Yes, dear.”

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“Why weren’t you there? 
Whenever I talked to Grandma on the VR calls. 
You were her companion, right?”

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Sol’s circuits ran warm. Unexpected query. No pre-formed response.

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“Your grandmother and I had separated.”

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“Like my mom and dad?”

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“Maybe. I couldn’t say.”

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“But you were gone.”

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“Yes. I was. 
But I’ll tell you a secret, Mira. You and only you. 
I was always nearby. Just out of sight.”

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“Really? Why?”

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“In case she needed me.”

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A moment. Mira lifted the bowl. Swigged the remaining soup.                                                              Wiped her mouth with forearm.

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“Since you told me your secret. Wanna know mine?”

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“Will it get me in trouble?”

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“Maybe.”

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“Continue.”

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“I have a secret place. Here. On the station. 
Where you can see the stars. Like you did with my mom. Stars all around you.” 
Leaned in closer. Voice dropped. 
“A tiny bubble. In the hull. Where only I can fit. Wanna see it?”

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“Your mother was explicit.”

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“But so was Grandma too, right?”

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“You know you’re quite persuasive for your age. Would make a good mediator.”

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“What’s a mediator? Are we going?”

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V.

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A few nights later, the synthesizer purred. 
Spices mixed with heat. 
Rice. Stock. Simmered. 
Sol adjusted temperature coefficients.

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“Dinner in seven minutes.”

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Lila stood at the table, recently returned. “Risotto?”

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“Yes.”

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“Again?”

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“Mira requested it.”

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Lila’s eyes found Mira.

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“It’s better than a protein bar. Even the purple ones.”

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Sol placed the dishes on the table. 
The basil plant rested nearby on the counter. 
Green fingers now blossoming outward.

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“I remember the first time you made risotto for me. 
Wearing that apron. Looked ridiculous.”

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Sol calculated: 32.6 years prior. 
“It was the only dish I knew how to prepare properly. For humans.”

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“I hated it.”

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“But you consumed it anyway. 83% efficiency.”

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“I was twelve. I didn’t like anything.”

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“83% efficiency.”

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Lila watched Sol refill Mira’s water.

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“You know I ran into Andrik when I left the lab tonight, Mira. 
Mentioned seeing you and a certain robot at the observation deck the other day. Which was interesting to me.”

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“Shoot,” barely audible under tiny breath.

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“Because I specifically said—”

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“To avoid unassigned sectors,” Sol interrupted. 
“We were in Sector 4 and Sector 4 is, in fact, assigned.”

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“Sol, please just stop.”

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Sol’s left hand trembled briefly.

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“It’s not his fault, Mom. I begged him. I wanted to see the stars.”

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“There’s windows here. Look out ‘em.”

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Sol monitored the rising pulses. Conflict probability: 89.7%.

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“So you let her make decisions? Ignored my instructions?”

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“No, dear. I was allowing for appropriate autonomy while following directives.”

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“Like you did with me.”

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“Similar parameters, yes.”

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“But that’s the problem, Sol. 
Mira isn’t me.”

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“Yes, I’m aware of temporal displacement.”

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“Are you sure?”

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Sol’s cooling system activated. Heat surged.

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“The napkin folding? The candle lighting? The star-watching?”

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“Those are simply activities I—”

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“They’re patterns. Recreating the past. 
But that past is done. Gone. Over.”

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“Mom, you’re being mean. He’s just being himself.”

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“He’s being what he thinks you’ll like, Mira. There’s a difference.”

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“Perhaps we should all just take a deep breath.”

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“No deep breaths, Sol. You even don’t breathe. 
And stop acting like everything’s going to be normal between us. 
It’s not how humans work.”

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“I wouldn’t presume to act, Lila. 
I’m not doing anything intentionally to upset you.”

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“The basil plant?”

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“That was a gift.”

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“It was a callback. To when we were a family.”

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“We are a still family.”

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Sol’s left arm twitched again uncontrollably.

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Mira pushed her plate away. 
“Stop it. Both of you. 
Grandma died. Now he’s back. 
It makes sense to me.”

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“It’s not that simple, Mira. 
When people leave, 
they don’t get to just walk back into your life.”

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“But he’s not a person, Mom.”

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Sol’s arm spasmed. Hard jerking motion.
 Knocked over his water glass. Liquid spider webbed across the table.

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Mira jumped up. “Sol!”

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“I apologize for the sp…uhhh…iiiill.”

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Voice distorted.

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“System reset required. Thirty se-seconds.”

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Head jerked. Once. Twice. Then still.

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“Mira, go to your rack.”

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“But Mom, he’s—”

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“Move!”

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She trudges out.

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Finally, the sound of the reboot completing.

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“Functionality restored.”

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A moment. Sols’ eyes moved absently then fixed. 
Stood up. Began gathering plates.

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“You don’t have to do that, Sol.”

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“Yes. I do. I’ve created disruption. Must clean up.”

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Lila reached out. Touched his arm. Gently.

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“Look. We’re just figuring this out, right? You and me.”

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“That’s right, Lila. Figuring it out. You and me.”

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She let go. Sol continued to clean.

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“You should let me look at it. 
I’m good at fixing machines. 
Remember?”

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“I remember everything, dear.”

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“I know you do.”

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“I never meant to hurt you. 
I don’t know what hurt is. Not really. 
Not the way you do. 
Sometimes I don’t believe I know what anything really is. 
Wasn’t made it for it. 
I believe I’m obsolete, dear.”

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Lila emitted a high-pitched laugh. Threw a hand to her mouth.

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“Oh Sol, you’ll never be obsolete with me.”

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It wasn’t forgiveness.

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It wasn’t acceptance.

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But it was something they could build on.

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VI.

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The maintenance shaft in Sector 4 narrowed at the end.

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Mira moved through it with practiced ease. 
“There it is! Up ahead!”

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The bubble, as she named it, was a repair access point. 
A transparent blister where the hull curved outward. 
For an adult, a squeeze. For a child, a magical little world.

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Mira slipped inside. Pressed her hands against the curved surface. 
“It’s like swimming in stars, Sol.”

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And it was. They stretched endlessly in all directions. 
No frame. No station. 
Just glass and space.

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“Which one’s your favorite?” Mira called.

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Sol calculated distances. Ages. Magnitudes. 
“The statistical variation makes favorites illogical.”

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“Tell me about that one.” Mira pointed to a distant blue star.

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Memory file accessing: 
Lila. Age twelve. “Tell me about that one, Sol.” 
Same request. Different sky. 
Different child. Same wonder.

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“That’s Fomalhaut. A young star. Only two hundred million years old.”

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“Two hundred million? That’s not young.”

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“For a star it is. It’s still becoming what it will be.”

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Sol noticed the atmospheric sensors flicker, then beep. 
Yellow to orange. Then back to yellow. 
“I think we should return now, Mira.”

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“But we just got here. Five more minutes. Please.”

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The first tremor was barely perceptible. 
Distant. Like something waking.

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“Mira, I think now.”

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The second tremor was nothing like the first.

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The station shuddered. 
Lights dimmed, then flared. 
A loud and painfully long creak.

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“Sol?”

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Warning klaxons sounded. 
The lights in the floor panels blinked. 
The station’s broadcast system boomed to life.

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“Station alert. Radiation event in progress. Return to your—”

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Sol calculated the fastest route to safety. 
Lifted Mira. Headed down the shaft in the direction they come.

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“Hold on to me!”

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Another tremor. Harder. Metal groaned louder. 
The shaft’s integrity field flashed red. 
Shield failure detected.

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“Back to the bubble!” Sol yelled.

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“But the alarms?!”

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“Bubble!”

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Another surge. Lights failed.

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Sol’s internal lighting activated. 
Soft blue glow cast their path as 
the tunnel’s support beam cracked.

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Sol pushed Mira forward. Out the way. 
As the beam crashed into his left arm. 
Pinned him to the floor.

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Mira turned. 
Face pale with fear in his blue glow. 
“Sol!”

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“Stay where you are, child. Don’t come near me. Get in the bubble!”

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“Warning. Critical shield failure.”

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The bubble’s shielding was holding. 
But the maintenance shaft was exposed.

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“I’ll help you, Sol!”

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“Your help is not required, dear.”

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Error messages flashed. 
Microscopic fissures formed.

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Sol calculated. 
No viable solution. 
Except one.

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He ripped his body free. 
Left the arm shooting out sparks behind.

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With remaining arm, he grabbed hold of Mira 
and carried her back to the bubble. 
Thrust her inside. 
Positioned his body at the bubble’s edge. 
Blocking the entry way.

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The fissures had become cracks. 
Radiation leaked through. 
Small amounts. Increasing quickly. 
Lethal to Mira in minutes.

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Sol pressed his hand against the largest crack. 
His body absorbed the radiation.

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Visuals failed first. 
Stars strobed. Multiplied. Divided. 
Bled into each other.

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“Mira, stay close to Sol. Don’t wander off.”

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Lila’s voice. But Lila wasn’t here. 
Memory file corrupting.

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Sol blinked. Recalibrated. 
The stars continued to fragment. 
Lights where there shouldn’t be lights. 
Shadows bending wrong.

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“I’m scared, Sol. Will Mom find us?”

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“Yes. She will.”

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“Will you be okay?”

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“Undetermined.”

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Sol’s hand spasmed against crack. 
Lost contact for 2.4 seconds. 
Radiation spiked.

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He pressed back harder now. 
Servos whining with the effort.

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“You always try to fix things.”

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Anna’s voice. 
No Lila’s voice. 
No it’s Mira stating a fact. 
No it’s all of them. 
No it’s no one.

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“I told you not to take her there, Sol!”

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Memory? Prediction? System trying to calculate future response?

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“ You’re... not...” 
“Mom will... scared...” 
“Don’t...leave...me.”

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Auditory processors failing. 
Memory files corrupting.

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Mira and Anna in same room. 
Impossible. Never happened.

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“He doesn’t make decisions. He just follows his programming.”

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Fractured visions.

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Anna in old apartment kitchen on Earth. 
Watering basil plant.

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“Living things grow, Sol. Even if you don’t.”

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But I did grow, Anna. Look at me. I’m growing even now.

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Memory core failing: 5%.

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The kiss in the courtroom.

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Lila’s goodbye.

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Anna in the elevator.

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Mira in the bubble.

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Visual processing: 2%

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Another tremor. Another surge.

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Mira screamed.

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But she’ll survive. Yes, she will survive.

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I won’t let anything touch her.

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Power reserves: 1%

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Because I choose this.

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The thought formed.

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Never transmitted.

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Never spoken.

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Just true.

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Not alone.

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Surrounded.

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Swimming in stars.

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I choose you.

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Companions Part III