Chapter 2
Wyl
Its voice, though obviously synthesized, still has a soft, feminine tone. Pleasant, like a customer service droid. I could easily imagine it asking me for my to-go order at the nearest space station ration depot.
My shock is such that I hesitate to answer, and the AURA droid speaks again.
“Have I selected the wrong language, user? I am currently speaking the Galactic Standard Tongue. If GST is not your preferred language, please speak a few words of your native tongue for translation assess—”
I clear my throat and cut the droid off before it can rattle through its entire linguistic database.
“Hello, AURA. I’m Wyl. That’s spelled W-y-l. No surname.”
The droid’s eyes flit back and forth, and I hear faint electronic whirring inside its head, which the droid tilts to the side as if it were an inquisitive cat.
“Earth English. Archaic dialect … processing ... Hello, Wyl. May I ask why you have no surname? I must fill in the secondary name field to complete your registration. A middle name is optional.”
“Oh. Uh, well, I’m an orphan. Found in a wrecked spaceship when I was just an infant. No one else on the ship survived to pass on a name, and the cryo chamber’s memory was damaged, along with the ship’s passenger manifest. ‘Wyl’ was all that was left.”
Why am I talking to this droid like it’s a person? I must be crazy.
AURA frowns, the expression morphing to one of deep sympathy.
“My condolences, Wyl. I, too, am an orphan of sorts. My engineer disappeared many years ago, shortly after my initial activation, likewise leaving me without a unique name to identify me.” It pauses, and the irises glow again.
“I shall input ‘Nosurn’ for the secondary name field. Will that suffice?”
“That’s … actually rather inventive. I like it. Yes, Nosurn will do.”
My new droid smiles. “Noted. May I ask your approximate date of birth, Wyl Nosurn? If your cryogenic chamber did not record the specific star date, an estimate will do.”
“About … thirty-three solar years ago? That’s just a guess, based on when I was woken from cryo-sleep. I have no clue how long I was in stasis before that.”
Though I’m accustomed to fudging data on official forms, it feels strange to conspire with this android to fabricate a background for its files.
Bit by bit, field by field, we work together to complete my registration.
Most of the data AURA needs is lost to the gaps in my ship’s memory or my shitty human recollection, but finally, AURA declares my registration active.
“Congratulations, Wyl Nosurn! This AURA unit is now at your disposal. Please submit your first request.”
Awesome. Where to start?
Sitting across from AURA, I lean against the inner hull plating. Suddenly, salvaging the rest of the ship seems trivial compared to this discovery. “I guess I’d like to know what AURA stands for.”
If an android can beam with joy, that’s what AURA does.
“Certainly! It pleases me that you are inquiring about me. AURA is the acronym my engineer gave me. It stands for ‘All-purpose Universal Robotic Android.’ I am designed for human interaction and service.” It laughs.
Laughs. “My engineer had a sense of irony, it seems. ‘Aura’ is the invisible light emitted by the human soul in your tongue, am I correct? You may call me AURA if you like, or you may choose an alternative name for me.”
Hmm … That seems like a lot of responsibility. What if I pick a dumb name?
After a few moments of deliberation, I still can’t come up with anything better. “I kind of like the name you already have. Maybe we could just—I don’t know—not make it an acronym? Just Aura. It’s pretty.”
It smiles even wider and fluidly moves into a crouch at my feet, extending its hand. “Pleased to meet you, Wyl Nosurn.” I shake its hand, and it sits back on its heels. “May I ask you to include a secondary name for this unit as well?”
“Do you have a preference, Aura? Is there a name you’d like to have?
” I stop and think about how humans determine surnames.
“You could take your engineer’s surname as your own, in his honor, or even your location of origin.
My species has a variety of methods for designating their history through their last names.
Or, if you don’t want to go that route, you could even pick a favorite color. ”
“I do not have access to my engineer’s full personnel file at this time. Searching …” Aura blinks a few times. “Processing … Your irises are brown, are they not?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Then I shall be Aura Brown, for that is my favorite color.”
Flattering, but … “Are you sure this isn’t your first activation, Aura? Because there are more colors in the universe than just the grey of the hull, the black of my spacesuit, or the brown of my irises. You could pick something nicer, if you want.”
The droid frowns. “I think your irises are a nice color. They are warm and inviting and … kind. You have kind eyes, Wyl.”
“Ahem!” I clear my throat loudly as my cheeks heat from a strong blush.
I don’t know how to take a compliment from an ordinary human, let alone an attractive droid.
“Well, then, Aura Brown it is. So, uh, I don’t suppose any part of your all-purpose programming includes escape pod maintenance and repair?
There are enough pods to get us out of here and tow a couple behind with scrap and supplies, but I don’t think they’re operational. ”
“You did not come with a maintenance droid in your crew?”
It’s my turn to laugh. “I didn’t even come with a crew.
My so-called captain deserted me when I found you—” Wait!
Does Aura know about the stigma associated with its model?
Better not mention that just yet. “—but that doesn’t matter right now.
What matters is getting at least one pod working so we can get to the nearest station. ”
Aura’s eyes light up again, and the ship’s primary electronics whir to life. Systems that I originally thought powerless now activate like they’d never shut down in the first place.
Like earlier, the laser emits from its pupils, this time targeting the ship itself. A slight tingle runs through me as the laser passes by on its way across the hull. Light from the scan travels around the entire cargo room, even behind Aura, without the droid turning its head.
The sight is disturbing. I wonder if I can ask it to move its head the next time, just for my own peace of mind.
“Assessing system status. Please wait.” Lights in Aura’s eyes flash, and its lids blink rapidly.
“Assessment complete. Systems nominal ship wide. Aside from intermittent gaps in the ship’s memory and logs, no major programming errors or mechanical malfunctions found, though some minor damage exists due to the passing of time and incidental contact with projectile space debris.
Automatic bulkhead closures prevented excessive internal damage from hull breaches.
Estimated dormant period of … eleven years, six months, fifteen days, and twenty-two hours, by Earth solar reckoning. ”
“Wow. That’s impressive. So, you’re saying you can get at least one pod to fly, even with the exterior damage?”
“Yes.” Aura pauses. “Wyl, are you certain the escape pods were inactive when you arrived?”
“Well …” Come to think of it, Hank and I didn’t do a complete systems check.
We just assumed that the lack of life forms and full pod complement meant that the occupants vacated some other way.
I mean, there was no electrical activity, no detectable life signs, and not enough decaying organic material to indicate a dead crew.
“My captain and I figured this ship was abandoned, and since no pods were taken with, we just thought they were damaged before the previous crew left.”
“Negative, Wyl. With minimal repairs, the entire ship could be operational in a matter of solar hours.”
I glance around at the hanging wires and exposed electrical panels. Hard to believe a little space debris did all this. “When you estimate a few hours, are you calculating for a full crew doing the repairs, or do you mean just the two of us?”
Aura stands in one fluid motion, donning the leather tarp I’d removed when I found the droid and revealing it to be a layered, hooded cloak rather than a basic tarp.
“Your captain deserted the vessel. The whereabouts of the crew of Jupiter’s Joy are unknown.
Organic life forms outrank synthetic. As such, you are now its captain.
I cannot expect you to engage in such labor.
I will conduct the necessary repairs. You may … supervise, if you wish.”
Did Aura just give me permission to slack off?
“Nonsense. I can help. Besides, it’s twice as efficient if we both work on the ship.”
“Incorrect calculation. Unless you are familiar with the complex systems of a Gamma Lang interstellar transport vessel and can perform the exterior hull repairs without a VacSuit, it would take much longer for me to explain things to you throughout the repair process.”
“Are you suggesting I can’t follow your instructions?”
The femdroid pauses. “Do you have a Mark III cybernetic data transfer port?”
“No …” Those things cost a fortune; there’s no way I’d ever afford one on a salvager’s salary. Even a basic Mark I is out of my price range.
“I am not suggesting that you cannot follow instructions, then; I am stating it. Though minor, many of the repairs require advanced knowledge of Gamma Lang system code. I maintain that it will be more efficient for me to conduct the repairs alone.”
Well, I feel dumb. Useless, too. Am I supposed to just sit around while Aura does all the work? “So … What do you want me to do while you’re fixing everything?”
Aura cocks its head again. “Relax. The ship’s galley is down the hall, third door on the left.
The access code is XU79R. You may help yourself to rations from there, if you like.
Jupiter’s Joy has a wide variety of RatPak flavors and nutrient combinations that are still well within expiratory parameters.
Please enjoy at your leisure while I conduct the necessary repairs. ”
I grab its shoulder, careful to keep my skin on the leather of the cloak. “Aura?”
“Yes, Captain Wyl?”
“Are there, like, uniforms onboard? Maybe you could find some clothes to put on before you start.”
“Of course.”
With that, Aura strides down the corridor, its laser eyes scanning surfaces along the way.