The Dark Between The Stars

TWENTY-FOUR
ORLI COVITZ

Every time Orli entered her compy laboratory on Relleker, she felt like a teacher entering a classroom full of eager students.

“Good morning, Orli,” said LU, a blue and gold Listener compy who had been with the laboratory complex since the beginning.

“Good morning, Orli,” said MO, a Domestic model who had such an abhorrence of dirt and stains that she kept every surface spotless. MO circled the laboratory, dusting, scrubbing, polishing. The compy was cheerful as she worked, cleaning even before it was necessary, as if trying to intimidate dust and smudges ahead of time.

A year ago, when MO arrived at the facility as a donation, Orli had thought it was a good idea to put the Domestic compy to work in their own home, but MO’s obsessive cleanliness was maddening, especially to her husband Matthew. She could understand why the original owners had gotten rid of her.

Now Orli was trying to modify the Domestic’s programming to increase her tolerance; she wanted to make MO understand that while humans liked a clean home, they did not want an absolutely sterile environment. Once, when she and Matthew were having a meal together on their anniversary—a supposedly quiet and romantic meal, which had degenerated into a tense discussion—MO only made things worse by hovering close to the table and snatching away any dirty plate the moment either Orli or Matthew took a last bite…

Carrying her record pad and files of notes with ideas she wanted to pursue, Orli entered the main center to a chorus of “Good morning, Orli.”

A decade ago, when she and Matthew got married, they had decided that rehabilitating discarded compies was what they wanted to do. When her old friend and companion Mr. Steinman passed away, he had left her some money, which Orli used to fund their work, and Matthew had inherited the facility building itself when his parents died.

Now, she had twenty-five compies here under study, each one contributing to the research as best they could. The different compy models used laboratory wallscreens to run diagnostics on themselves while running modified core programming. The compies were pleased to be guinea pigs. In fact, they were happy to be with her, since she took such good care of them.

Orli tried to keep track of all of their designations, not the full serial numbers, just the two-letter nicknames. The donated compies came and went as she did her therapeutic work on them, then found them new homes and useful assignments.

“Good morning, Orli,” said another compy, whose voice she recognized.

Looking up with a warm smile, she said, “And good morning to you, DD.”

She gave the little Friendly compy a hug. DD had been with her for most of her life, though his succession of owners dated back for more than a century. He spent much of his time in the lab complex when he wasn’t with Orli in their home. Even Matthew was fascinated with him, tinkering with DD’s deepest programming to determine what exactly the evil Klikiss robots had done to him when they held him captive for so many years.

Every standard compy possessed basic Asimov strictures, modified and expanded to encompass numerous scenarios; basically, the unbreakable subroutines forced compies to obey direct commands, and not to harm humans or let humans come to harm. Even so, after the major uprising of Soldier compies at the end of the Elemental War, people had become so uneasy that many had given up their compies, regardless of the model.

MO cheerfully brought Orli her cup of klee, a hot beverage brewed from ground worldtree seeds, a specialty of Theroc. “Your cup, just the way you like it, Orli.”

“Thank you, MO.”

Rlinda Kett’s shipping company made a great profit distributing klee to other markets, especially the upscale consumers here on Relleker. Because she and Orli were so close, after all they had been through together, Rlinda made sure Orli always had a generous private supply. Since Matthew had never acquired a taste for klee, Orli had it all to herself.

She took a seat at her desk, logged onto the screens that displayed reports. Matthew’s image appeared in the corner, but it was just a portrait, not a new communication. He was gone on a long business trip, traveling to Earth, New Portugal, Theroc, and Newstation, giving talks. He was a vocal advocate for compies, insisting that they were perfectly safe. Orli already knew that, as did anyone with common sense who had spent time around compies; they were so warm and personable, and so useful. But many people remained leery of them, despite the reassurances.

Before the Elemental War, compies had been ubiquitous throughout the Terran Hanseatic League, and they had also been used by the Roamer clans. But in the past twenty years, their popularity had dwindled. Very few were manufactured anymore. Maybe it would just take patience, Orli thought. Maybe it would take a great deal of crusading, which her husband was doing. She didn’t much care for being on stage and the center of attention; fortunately, Matthew enjoyed it.

For her own part, while staying home in the quiet Relleker laboratory, she and DD recorded some standard educational lessons and released them widely, even though she doubted she made much impact out in the Confederation. DD seemed a natural, and she felt comfortable enough when she had rehearsed her talk. Orli performed a good educational service for anyone who was interested, but her subtle goal was to demonstrate how warm and charming DD could be. Such a faithful Friendly compy could never be a problem; people needed to see that.

Although in some ways the compy facility functioned like an animal shelter—since people dropped off troublesome or abandoned compies there—compies were far more than “animals” to her. She had always felt a close connection to them, especially to DD. She considered the facility more of an orphanage. And she wanted to find these compies homes.

When she and Matthew got married, they talked about having a family. Both wanted children. Unfortunately each came to that realization at a different time. Matthew decided he’d like to have a family just as they were establishing their compy laboratory, but Orli was too busy with the many strays who needed reprogramming to return to human society. Years later, when she was satisfied with her work, Orli decided she was ready to have children. But by then, Matthew had changed his mind and talked her out of it. Poor biological timing.

Matthew was proud of what they had accomplished in the compy laboratory, but he focused on the broader mission now, so he was often gone. Orli found that she didn’t mind, since she had so many compies to keep her company, and DD was hers again. She never felt alone. Orli instructed the compies, learned from them, watched their actions, and she loved them.

Now, DD hovered by Orli’s desk. “I arranged your files and answered some of the standard messages. Are you sure that’s all right?”

“Of course it is, DD. Just like it was yesterday, and the day before.” She shook her head. “How could I not trust you?”

“Would you like me to formulate an answer?”

“No, DD. It was rhetorical.”

“Ah, a rhetorical question. I understand.”

Orli and Matthew had everything they wanted, and they were doing good work. Although her marriage had not turned out to be as exciting or passionate as she had hoped, she was happy enough. She’d had a lifetime’s worth of excitement in her younger years—far too much, in fact—and she felt no regret about having a quiet, normal life.

While Matthew went off on his lectures and crusades, she spent her days working here. Though Orli still felt an occasional bittersweet twinge that she hadn’t had children of her own, these compies were enough. She and Matthew had agreed that it was enough.

MO brought her lunch, precisely at noon. “Your favorite, Orli. I’ve prepared a special dish that’s exactly what you’ll like.”

Orli made a point of appreciating whatever MO created, though she had never given the Domestic compy any guidance as to which foods she actually liked. MO simply worked her way through numerous recipes in a catalogue and pronounced each one a delicious masterpiece.

MO hovered to take away her tray as soon as she finished the last bite. “Was it delicious?”

“It was delicious, MO.”

DD came cheerfully into her office as she finished her meal. “A message just came in from your husband, delivered by a trader to Relleker.”

“Thank you, DD,” she said. Matthew preferred to record his messages and send them the old-fashioned way, rather than via a green priest, who would transmit the words through the worldforest network. He wanted his own voice, his own expression. Orli thought he just liked to hear himself.

She activated the transmission and saw his face: the dark hair, the faint crow’s-feet around his eyes, the pale blue gaze that she had once found so riveting, especially when they sat across the table from each other and discussed compy problems. Now, he looked tired, his expression haggard.

When he sent messages, Matthew did not use endearments. He had never been the romantic sort, and Orli had learned not to expect that of him. He had recorded this message some days ago and managed to avert his eyes so that he wasn’t looking at Orli on the screen. He seemed troubled.

“Orli,” he said as if addressing a business correspondent, “I’ll be back at Relleker in a week. We… we need to talk.”

Compies would never identify nuanced expressions or tonalities, but Orli heard something in Matthew’s voice, and she was already convinced she wouldn’t like what he had to say.