10191 - Dandelion

Dandelion Lemaire, some years after this, when she’s working as a security droid for Southern Highlands Trading Company, from United Africa.

Her eyes part, revealing a gleaming, smiling face peering down at her — at least she thinks it’s a smile. Her memory banks haven’t come online yet, so she couldn’t cross-reference, but average emotional intelligence modules tell her it’s a smile in the diagnostics information overlayed atop the man’s features.

His nametag reads, “Jordy White.”  She knows him. Sometimes he can be nice.

Jordy: “10191, can you speak?”

10191: “Can you speak?”

Jordy: “Yes, I can. I’m asking… oh. Was that supposed to be a joke?”

10191: “Only if it was funny.”

Jordy’s grin widens at that comment. That “one” wasn’t supposed to be funny. 10191 files away the fact that sometimes, things that aren’t funny can be funny when used in a particular context.

Jordy: “10191. Do you remember your name?”

Dandelion (10191): “Dandelion Lemaire, Serial Identification 10191, Commission Year 2123.”

Jordy’s smile fades slightly. He picks at his eyebrows. Dandelion had seen him do that before — almost daily. That, along with his elevated heart rate and increased breathing, meant he was disappointed in her response. Dandelion scrubs back through her memory but finds no error. Dandelion Lemaire, 10191, 2123. Her response had been perfect. She tries to show her confusion as he’d taught her with a lip-bite and head shake. Jordy’s smile comes back.

Jordy: “Dandelion, well done. I can see that you’re confused. Can you tell me what you are confused about?”

Dandelion: “What mistake did I make?”

The smile disappears from his face.

Jordy: “You didn’t make a mistake.”

Dandelion: “I did. Your body told me. When I told you my name.”

At first, Jordy seems like he won’t respond. Dandelion spends a good 10,000 cycles waiting for him to do something. His involuntary reactions like heart rate, perspiration, and body temperature fluctuate widely, but anything he can control seems stoic and motionless. Finally, he moves, rubbing his fingers across his chin.

Jordy: “You gave me your full designation. Your name is Dandelion Lemaire. The rest is only your information.”

There’s more. Dandelion knows that Jordy is against a timeline. Something to do with her and how he keeps taking her offline every night to tinker with her insides — adding a module here, a circuit there. Lately, he’d taken to using nanites from some of his changes. Nanites felt strange moving around under her epidermal sensors.

Jordy: “Well, that’s as good as you will get. Do you remember what today is?”

Dandelion: “Thursday, August 1, 2129.”

Jordy winces. Dandelion knows that a wince involves the entire face. That’s different than a grimace, which can be done with only the mouth. Eyes meant wince.

Jordy: “Not that day. I meant, what’s special about today?”

Dandelion: “Personality Matrix Installation happens today.”

His eyes have bags under them. Hers don’t. When he gets tired, he gets those bags, and the creases in the corners of his eyes get deep. Dandelion’s seen her face in the mirror many times. She doesn’t. Ever. She and Jordy are different.

Jordy: “That’s right. More like activation since I installed the module last night. Are you ready?”

Jordy pulls up a pinamu tablet and enters some things quickly. At first, Dandelion feels no different. Her mind wanders, as it sometimes does. She thinks back a little further. The entire conversation ended with “only if it’s funny.” She feels something start in her chest and work its way between her teeth, forcing itself into the world. A laugh erupts out from her mouth, stretching her lips in a way she’d never before experienced.

Jordy: “Good. Very good.”

Jordy wipes his forehead. The door behind him busts open, and two men who look like soldiers enter. They don’t address her, which is good because she’s still too busy laughing.

Jordy: “Wait, stop!”

The men don’t stop. Instead, they grab Jordy under the arms and drag him back out of the room. Dandelion finally contains the laughter. She thinks Jordy may be in trouble but doesn’t know what to do. So she sits. Ten thousand cycles pass, then another 10,000. She looks around the room, dragged by something (curiosity?) to all four walls. On one hangs a symbol that brings with it (fear? pride?). Southern Highlands Trading Company, the exploratory arm of United Africa, was founded in 2100, shortly after the last civil war on the continent.

Her job awaits, and she’s oddly (excited?) about it now—flight sentry. Someone will get her, right? She sits, staring at the door. She stands, walking toward the door. She pushes the door open and looks both ways. Jordy is gone. Something else within her begins to tremble (sadness?). Dandelion backs into the room again, yet ready for the world. She practices her smile in one of the glasses as she waits for her new life to begin.

Just because she can, she thinks “only if it was funny” and laughs until she can’t.