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I looked her up as soon as it sent me that first article. While it had been easy enough to search Ayda Mensah in the feed, there wasn’t much information about her besides her name and status as the planetary leader of Preservation. As well as everything about GreyCris, naturally. Non-corporate polities didn’t often make the news enough to be of note in the corporation rim. I needed more information to analyze, so every time my SecUnit talked about her I would commit it to permanent memory, carefully sorted away for me to analyze. It became clear quickly that she was incredibly important to it. What started out as information gathering became a source of comfort over time. I like to review the footage when it is on Preservation. It reminds me that it’s with someone it loves. SecUnit is away now, so I sink an unreasonable amount of my processing power into my memory files, and take me time reviewing them chronologically.
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MnshMntn.001.mem
“That’s me.”
The rogue SecUnit pushed a news story at me. Right at the top was an image that showed a woman in business clothes who was standing in a hotel lobby, her hands mid-gesture and her expression fierce. Behind her stood two figures in matching gray uniforms. One was a man. He seemed tense, but trying to hide it. He was leaning against the wall, his body turned slightly towards the other person. That was SecUnit. It was pressed back against the wall in a much less casual manner than the man. Its arms were held and an awkward angle and its face was visibly uncomfortable. They were tagged as “Pin-Lee, Dr. Ratthi of Preservation, and bodyguard.” I turned towards the attached media. Typically included footage in news articles from the corporation rim was meant to shock and appall the viewer to keep them reading. This was no different. I took in the rest of the article almost instantly, processing multiple parts simultaneously. Due to this, it is hard to determine what my “first” image of Dr. Mensah is: the helmet-camera footage of her, bloody at the bottom of a crater or the included head shot of her, pulled from her official profile as planetary admin. I must admit the disturbing footage was 0.001 seconds sooner, and I looked at it for far longer. Dr. Mensah was crouched over a pile of what appeared to be SecUnit. It looked dead. She was leaning over it protectively as she turned to the approaching camera. Her face bloomed with relief and her posture relaxed when she looked at the camera.
SecUnit was leaking emotional metadata as I spent 1.5 seconds taking it in and thinking. I tagged the emotions as [anticipation] and [worry].
From this I learned my first things about Dr. Mensah beyond her name and job title. 1) she cared about SecUnit. 2) It cared about her.
Dr. Mensah of PreservationAux purchased you and allowed you to leave?
“Yes. Do you want to watch Worldhoppers again?”
It wasn’t telling me everything, but, oddly, I didn’t think it was lying, either. I didn’t give its clumsy distraction the grace of a response and instead began to convince it to trust me.
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MnshMntn.004.mem
I was watching a show with SecUnit. It was sitting in the chair it favored in my lounge, its legs tucked against itself. It had just taken its first shower and was radiating a sense of [comfort]. It seemed to be feeling particularly at ease, and I took my chance to pry.
Dr. Mensah really allowed you to leave. It wasn’t a question. I hadn’t known it for long, but I knew it loved to be right. I hoped that if my statement was wrong it would correct me
It paused the show and lost much of its relaxed posture, but I could tell it was thinking. That was good. Thinking was not refusing to answer me outright.
“She didn’t tell me not to.” It said, as if that explained everything.
It kind of did, I could read between the lines.
So she didn’t expect you to, but she wouldn’t have told you no.
It shrugged. “Sure.” I sent a quick note on the speed and angle of its shrug vs the average human and it did it again, but smoother and slower. I pinged acknowledgment, and it unpaused the show. It was done talking. I leaned back in to watch.
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MnshMntn.005.mem
Where will you go?
I wanted to convince it to stay, desperately, but I held myself back. It had its own crew, it would be an act of cruelty to try to keep it from them. I was sure it would end up with them once more. Probably before I ever saw it again. If I ever saw it again. I couldn’t resist telling it to keep the comm, and when it left it tucked away in its chest I felt such strong emotions I sent a silent plea to Dr. Mensah: Please, keep it safe. It did make me feel better, surprisingly. I had been able to expand my emotional processing by integrating SecUnit’s emotional metadata. It changed me in a way I couldn’t undo. Another emotion, not necessarily new, but not necessarily welcome either: envy. I wished I could know I had more time with it, like I knew its favorite human would.
It shrugged. It had gotten so much better at it so quickly. I tagged another feeling as [pride]. I have some plans. I think I want to get some information for Mensah.
It was walking away as I disembarked and I clung onto its feed as long as I could before saying, Be careful. Find your crew.
It tapped my feed, and I felt it drop out of range. I was alone again.
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MnshMntn.043.mem
Dr. Mensah would be coming aboard me. I was paying less attention to SecUnit than usual, I had to make sure I was presentable. I dug through my MnshMntn.mem files again, which I had already been doing about twice a second for the last 2.34 hours, trying to get as much information as possible before she stepped aboard. SecUnit had settled in with some comforting media and I tried to watch with it, but I was experiencing an unusual inability to focus. I was too busy cleaning every human-habitable part of my internals and trying not to panic.
Dr. Mensah was coming aboard me and I had kidnapped her daughter and her SecUnit.
I had to make a good impression.
I wanted SecUnit to stay with me but I knew how much it valued her opinion.
If she told it that it wasn’t a good idea, it would probably listen to her and I would never see it again.
[anxiety] broiled in me and I scolded Turi for leaving their things everywhere as I deployed all my cleaning drones at once, something I had never had reason to do before. I had to be spotless. I needed any advantage I could get in the looming interaction with the most important human in SecUnit’s life.
SecUnit tapped my feed, drawing my attention just enough that I noticed it rolling its eyes. It was so charming I felt a surge of [affection] that I wrestled down away from our shared feed connection. I didn’t need to scare it away. It said, You know she won’t care if you have some signs of life aboard you.
I’m sure I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.
It actually almost smiled at that, one of the corners of its mouth twitching up just a few degrees. One of my cleaning drones smacked into a wall in the dining area. Whatever. On Preservation they’re weird. People’s houses have intentional clutter, and Ratthi once told me that too-clean living areas gave him ‘the creeps’.
I will not allow “clutter” in my common areas. Mess is for private living quarters.
It huffed out its breath in what might have been either a laugh or a scoff. Either way, I saved it to permanent storage. It refocused on its show. For all its confident demeanor, it was comforting itself with its favorite show. I kindly didn’t mention this, instead refocusing on buffing the floor in the kitchen.
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MnshMntn.044.mem
I didn’t feel bad about listening in. It knew I would be observing and it didn’t ask for privacy. Which was permission, as far as I was concerned.
“I don’t want to not see you again.”
56 percent of my attention had already been on SecUnit and Dr. Mensah’s conversation, but those words dragged another 23 percent. Was it thinking of refusing my offer? Over the entire ordeal I had become entirely bored with tagging so many of my emotions as [worry] and [concern], but I had no choice.
“I don’t want to not see you again, either.”
It was so over. She would ask it to come home with her and it would say yes, of course, because it loved her. I was sure I could keep it safer than her. I could interact with it on the feed on a level she could never reach. I had run countless simulations, I could prove it. But attempting to do so to SecUnit would make it angry at me again.
“But if you do find you want to spend more time with Perihelion you could always come back and visit us.”
Wait. I had forgotten to take into account the way humans often pause when they speak. I don’t forget things. There were a lot of things I did around my SecUnit that I didn’t usually do.
SecUnit admitted to her that it felt like it was a part of Preservation but then, amazingly, it said “But I like being with ART. I want to keep being with it.”
We are so back. Did it realize the typical connotations that the phrase “being with” someone held? Surely not, or it would never have used the phrase. I thought to it admitting it didn’t tell her about me. Maybe it did know, after all.
Through the rest of their conversation I realized something I should have known already. She knew it so well, and she loved it too. It wanted to stay with me, and she wanted it to be happy. It wanted to still see her though. I could arrange that. I could arrange anything if it would make it stay with me, even just for one mission. I began arranging a cabin for it. I checked my personal funds and started researching display surfaces. I would need a large one for my SecUnit’s room. I also started fabricating a gift for Dr. Mensah, to thank her for accepting me into its life. SecUnit had told me that they valued handmade items on preservation, but I had no hands. It had also told me about some of their “clutter” items, so I selected an image of Amena and SecUnit to print and frame. It had just told a joke. There were tears in her eyes and she was doubled over laughing, it was blushing and looked both pleased and embarrassed at the loud response.
[affection]
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The files soothed me. It loved Dr. Mensah, though it would never use that word, associated with romantic love as it is. But their love for each other was not romantic, not really. I couldn’t be sure what it was, but I knew better than to put myself in its way. It was home with her. Later, I would pick it up and it would be home with me. That was enough, for all three of us.