Epilogue
Wyl
Personal Log: Wyl Nosurn
Learning to live as an android took some getting used to.
I spent the first couple of years waiting for my nonexistent bladder to scream at me for the chance to take a piss I didn’t need to take.
Thankfully, Aura and the Prime Regent made sure that certain, er, other parts in that region still operated at normal human capacity.
Sex as an android was much easier to figure out. All the mechanics are the same, but simultaneously, they’re enhanced. We can go through the entire ancient Earth text, the Kama Sutra, in one night—and we have on more than one occasion—with plenty of time and energy for more exploration.
That’s not all we do, though. My father-in-law insists that Aura and I help run the new Galactic government.
Rather than calling it “the New Galactic Authority” or some other derivative name, good ol’ Dad calls it “the Interstellar Community.” Not quite as menacing as “Galactic Authority,” but it’s got a snazzy ring to it, and he must be doing something right.
He’s on his seventeenth elected term, with few complaints lodged in all that time.
Is it a little weird that a droid who was programmed as a concubine with no free will runs the galaxy? Maybe, but no weirder than him building Aura or rebuilding me. He’s clearly established that droids can evolve beyond their original programming, and no one tries to stop him.
Aura’s done some evolving of her own. Independent of her father and on her own time away from her official position as Liaison to the Council of Organics, she designed and built the galaxy’s first functioning prototype of a synthetic womb.
That’s right, we’ve got kids!
My doll is such a genius. She developed synthetic parts that can be exchanged when the organic parts outgrow them, effectively giving birth to hybrid children who mature at a rate that approximates human life.
Thanks to her work, many childless organic couples have been able to conceive and have the kids they always wanted.
Same for droids, and thus far, they’ve been so elated for the opportunity that they don’t even mind the integration of parts from organic donors.
There’s even a market for “organic enhancements” for droids, just like the cybernetic enhancements organics can get.
Our oldest is sixteen today—Two more years until the Prime Regent declares them an adult! I’m so stoked, and I know Aura can’t wait to equip them with whatever sexual components they choose … or, if they don’t want ‘em, then just a new crotch panel. Whatever they want is fine with us.
Hell, I don’t even care if they mix and match.
We hope we’ve instilled the right combination of organic and android values in them. It’s so hard being pioneers in that respect. There’s no one before us who can tell us how their kids turned out.
Let’s see, am I forgetting anything? Oh! I suppose it’s important that I have an official title and position, too: Human-Android Nurturing Scholar. Me—a teacher! It’s insane.
I refuse to let the students call me “HANS,” though.
You might ask what I teach. Well, the Prime Regent was so impressed with the way I explained the history of Archer IX to Aura that it gave even him food for thought, and he asked me to teach other droids about organic ethics and morality.
It’s a pretty cool gig, and it definitely pays more than salvaging.
Now that humans and other organic species treat them better, the droids are more receptive to learning about organic behaviors and customs.
All in all, life is peaceful now. Tranquil. Our Joint Police Force monitors galactic safety and enforces the laws, but few bother to break them. Now that the organic species are treating the droids with more respect, it doesn’t seem like anyone wants to fight or argue.
I know it can’t last forever. Eventually, something’s going to change.
People will come to blows, another marginalized group will rise up …
It happens. For now, though, I plan on enjoying this more stable existence.
No spending weeks hunting down abandoned ships for scrap. No haggling with black market dealers.
Just me, Aura, and the joyous chaos of our kids.
The End