Lunar Chronicles #0.6 The Little Android - Page 4

“Exactly. That’s what they’re supposed to do. Just keep working, not get involved with drama and upsets. What this one did… it isn’t normal. Something’s wrong with it.”

A spark flickered inside Mech6.0’s head. She’d begun to suspect as much, but to have it confirmed was worrisome.

“What do you think it is?"

“Who knows? You hear stories about this once in a while. Androids whose artificial intelligence reaches a point of learning at which they develop almost human-like tendencies. Unpractical reasoning, near-emotional responses. There are plenty of theories for why it happens, but the important thing is, it isn’t good.”

“I’m not sure I agree.” The owner crossed his arms over his chest. “This mech-droid may have saved Dataran’s life today.”

“I realize that, and thank the stars. But what will it do next time there’s a disturbance? The fact is, an unpredictable android is a dangerous one.” He shrugged. “My advice: Either send out the computer for reprogramming, or sc.r.a.p it entirely.”

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Tam let his gaze travel over Mech6.0’s body. She squeezed the locket tighter in her three-fingered grasp.

“Fine,” Tam said. “But let’s worry about it tomorrow. I think we could all use the rest of the night off.”

They left her on the table in the mechanic’s room, and as the lights of the s.h.i.+pyard thudded into blackness, Mech6.0 realized it was the first night in her existence that she hadn’t been plugged into the charging dock.

Because charging her wasn’t necessary. Because tomorrow she would be dismantled and put on a shelf somewhere, and the bits of her that weren’t worth saving would be sent off to the sc.r.a.pyard.

Tomorrow, she would be gone.

She a.n.a.lyzed those words for a long time, her processor whirring and sputtering around them, trying to calculate the hours and minutes left in her existence before there would be only a black hole where her consciousness had been before.

She wondered if Dataran would give a single thought to the malfunctioning android who had saved his life and been destroyed for it.

Dataran. She had something that belonged to him now. It was in her code to return it to him if she could. She brought the locket up in front of her sensor and scanned its dimensions and the small hinge and the tiny unlocking mechanism. It was a challenge to open with her clumsy p.r.o.ngs, but finally she did—

And the galaxy expanded before her.

The holograph filled up the entire office. The sun and the planets, the stars and the nebulas, asteroids and comets and all the beauty of s.p.a.ce contained in that tiny, unimpressive little locket.

Mech6.0 clipped it shut, storing the universe away in its small prison once again.

No. She couldn’t stay here. She could not stand to be lost to the darkness forever, when there was still a whole universe she’d never seen.

Chapter 4

Mech6.0 had never been outside of the s.h.i.+pyard before, not since she’d been programmed and built and purchased. She quickly discovered that the world was chaotic and loud and filled with so much sensory information, she worried that her frazzled synapses would be fried before she ever reached her destination.

But she tried to focus on the map of New Beijing and the profile she’d discovered on the net as she turned into the first street of market booths, crowded with barrels of spices and woven blankets that hung from wire racks and netscreens chattering from every surface.

“Robotic cats, two for the price of one, today only! No shedding, just purring!”

“Depression? Low energy? Infertility? What’s your ailment—we have cures! We even have the newest prevention drops for the blue fever, tried and true!”

“Plum wine, rice wine, come try a free sample!”

“Big sale on serv-droids, now’s the time to upgrade! New models, just in!”

She kept her sensor down and attempted to look inconspicuous. The net was filled with stories of android theft, and she was worried that being crushed together with so many humans, she would soon find herself s.n.a.t.c.hed up and saddled with some new owner, who would no doubt have her dismantled anyway once they discovered her damage.

Finally, she spotted a nondescript booth exactly where the market directory had said it would be. The walls were lined with shelves that sagged from their jumble of tools and android parts and outdated portscreens stacked three-layers deep.

Mech6.0 rolled up to the table that blocked the entrance. A girl was standing near the back of the booth, wearing thick work gloves and cargo pants, scanning something with a portscreen. She paused and tapped her fingers against the screen, then reshuffled some items on the shelf before scanning another item.

“Pardon… me,” said Mech6.0, her senses crackling at the effort. She did not have many opportunities to speak at the s.h.i.+pyard, and the long trek had already drained her power source.

The girl glanced toward her. “Oh—sorry! I’ll be with you in just a minute.” She finished entering whatever data she was working on and clipped the portscreen to her belt. “How can I help you?”

“Looking for… Linh Cinder.”

“You found her.” The girl tilted her head to one side, furrowing her brow. “Is your voice box on the fritz?”

“Whole… body,” said Mech6.0. “Purchase… new?”

It took a moment, but then Linh Cinder nodded. “Oh, sure. I can do that. Is your owner around?”

Mech6.0 felt a sudden drop in power, but was relieved when it was only a temporary loss. Now that she’d found the mechanic, she shut off her net database in order to conserve what energy she could. “No owner.”

Linh Cinder’s brow furrowed. Her eyes darted to the android dealer across the way. “Oh. I see.” She reached for her portscreen again and set it on the table between them, before typing in a few commands. “Well, all right. I can order up a replacement mech body today, but it usually takes about a week to get here, unless the warehouse downtown has some in stock. You’re a 6.0, right? It doesn’t look like they have any. Do you mind waiting  a week?”

“Can I… wait here?”

“Uh…” Hesitating, Cinder glanced over her shoulder at the booth cluttered with machines and toolboxes. Then she shrugged. “Sure, I can probably clear a s.p.a.ce for you.” Tightening her ponytail, she sat down in the chair that had been pushed beneath the table. “But if you don’t have an owner… how do you plan on paying for this?”