"Almost Human" by Sabrina E G Withers

The refurbished crypt seemed dark and gloomy when she entered but as she looked around she saw people dancing in the darkness. White glowed brilliant blue under the neon lights, lending a vibrancy to the movements. Behind the bar, the DJ smiled kindly at Reatha as she switched CDs with ease, changing the Latino feel to a deeper beat. She seated herself at the bar, perching herself on a barstool in such a way that she could view the whole room. Circles of light cast patterns on the dance floor as she noticed how sparse the dancers were. Self-consciously, she shifted on the stool not sure if she would dare to dance. She had no alcohol to give her false courage, just a longing to feel the beat and move instead of watching, but she knew that might not be enough to make her leave her seat. A voice interrupted her thoughts, spoken as if from the air.

Why are you hiding in here again?

“Leave me alone.” She said emphatically. The woman sitting next to her gave her an odd look but she was too annoyed to bother apologising.

You told me to tell you when someone came to the door. I'm only working within parameters.

Reatha sighed at the reminder of who she was talking to, a construct; a gift from one of her friends to help keep track of her appointments. She had broadened its parameters slightly to include access to the net-zones for when she needed to be reminded to come off line for a meeting. However, she kept asking herself if that had not been a bad idea. With a sigh she left the barstool and made for the stairs. Halfway up them, the real world faded into view. She lifted her headset from her face and brushing a hand through her hair went to answer the door. A small frown creased her brow as she saw the aforementioned friend standing there.

“Martin, did I miss an appointment again?”

He smiled at her question.

“No, I just thought I'd drop by because you said Aurora had been acting strangely.”

A guilty embarrassed wave went through her as she recalled the conversation and remembering, she felt silly for having brought it up.

“There's nothing really wrong.” She stated, as she realised that in truth she did not want him to know exactly what had been going on.

“Well there is no harm in checking, is there? Besides, I haven't seen you in weeks.”

Reluctantly, she abandoned the idea of returning to the net and let him in.

“Coffee alright for you? I had a pot going already.” She asked as she smelled the scent coming from the kitchen. She did not mention that the only reason it was there was because Aurora had made the machine come on a few minutes earlier.

“Coffee's fine, thanks. So what was the first thing you noticed that was out of parameters?”

There was a long pause from the kitchen.

“She chose her own form,” she said quietly. “I didn't have the time and then one morning there she was. I hadn't even specified a gender yet.”
He smiled kindly at her as she brought the cups to the living room.

“That's a fairly common occurrence. It's a part of the logic matrix. The program expects to have a form so after a while if it doesn't have one it finds one. Female is logical too. It probably worked out that Aurora is feminine and picked a form from the database.”

“That's comforting to know.” Reatha breathed, not daring to mention that the form Aurora took was not from any database but had been taken from one of her dreams. A dream that had been stored in a locked file since before the construct had been introduced to the system.

“Hopefully the rest will be explained just as easily.”

The rest, she thought, like the thoughtful messages reminding her to eat when she was logged into the net. The philosophical talks long into the night that went beyond anything even her digital psychiatrist could discuss. The way Aurora blocked every call from her ex-boyfriend, without asking, until she was ready to hear what he had to say and move on. She shook her head with a small sigh.

“She seems to have expanded her parameters without asking me.” She said slowly past the knot in her heart. Why did it feel like she was betraying Aurora by speaking out? She is just a construct, her mind screamed. Isn't she, a smaller voice asked.

“How so?”

“Aurora occasionally cancels my client appointments directly without confirming it with me.”

“Lord,” he muttered surprised. “That's unusual. It's meant to be seriously hard to un-code that part of the program. Do you know why she does it?”

The calculating look in his eye worried her.

“I sometimes double book.” Reatha admitted sheepishly. “She then cancels and rearranges the appointments. The rest,” She broke off not wanting to think about it. Jealousy, her mind said ignoring her protests, which was absurd. Aurora was a construct and had no feelings.

“I'm not sure.” she lied, her mind following the previous thought like a hound after a rabbit. It was suddenly obvious when she considered it. The majority of the cancelled calls were from clients who had wanted to be more. Who had wanted to come into her life and rescue her from a life alone in a tower with no one but the net as company. She had only met one of them and she had found out later, by handwritten letter no less, that Aurora had chased him away. Politely and firmly she had refused to let him near her. That letter had prompted her to talk to Martin, something she was beginning to regret. If Martin noticed the way she crept into her thoughts he said nothing.

“Can I speak to her?” He asked quietly. Reatha looked at him uncertainly and nodded slowly, feeling nervous, as if Aurora had to make a good impression. She tapped a small button on the edge of the table and a small screen appeared above it. Martin gave an appreciative whistle as Aurora appeared.

“I'm glad my construct doesn't look like this. Magali would kill me.”

She understood what he meant, though she had not stopped long enough to notice it in a while, by general standards Aurora was beautiful. She was like Helen of Troy, a face to launch a thousand ships.

“Aurora, state your parameters please.”

To look after and keep appointments for Reatha in whatever way I deem fit.

Martin did not contain his surprise at her words. Casting a sidewards glance at Reatha, he attempted to look nonchalant as he asked his next question.

“What are your containers?”

I have none. Aurora stated, sounding bored and giving him a direct stare.

“This isn't the program I gave you.” Martin said firmly. “Have you been fiddling with her parameters?”

“Not much.” Reatha said, suddenly feeling defensive and slightly threatened, though why she could not say. “I changed a few of the things she was allowed access to.”

“Well, she is definitely not functioning correctly.” He stated with a shake of his head. He did not notice the way Aurora glared at his back in anger before schooling her features when he turned round to look at her.

“I see. What would you suggest I do about it?” Reatha asked slowly, not wanting to sound alarmed, though nothing he had said had surprised her.

“I'm stripping the program down to basics.” He said, immediately pulling up a keyboard and starting to code. His words were like a bucket of cold water as a shiver ran down her spine. Panic rose within her as he calmly and methodically removed all the things he believed superfluous from Aurora's program.

How may I serve you?

Reatha cringed at the flat tones that came from the screen. An ache opened itself in her heart at the loss of the warm tones Aurora had started to use when talking to her. It took grim determination to force herself to chat calmly with Martin until he left instead of throwing him out. As soon as the door closed behind him, she collapsed to the floor, shaking, unsure why she felt that way.

“Aurora?” She whispered into the room but only silence answered. She dragged herself to her bedroom and, placing a small disc in the dreamset so that she could record her dreams, fell into a deep sleep.

It had taken her three days until she had felt ready to do anything. She had dragged herself out of her gloom and from the bedroom. Switching on the headset, she entered the net. The bar was nearly empty when she entered and, with a smile at the feeling of familiarity the gesture awakened, perched on a barstool.

“Ca va? Are you well?” The voice repeated when she switched on the translator circuit. She mustered a smile at the barmaid's question and nodded.

“Just had a bad week.”

“It's been fairly quiet here recently, so it's nice to have people come in and chat.”

Smiling, Reatha ordered a drink and settled down feeling happier than she had done. The door swung open and Reatha caught the beaming grin from the barmaid just as she turned to see who it was.

“Reatha, this is my Cherie" 'My beloved' The Program translated. "My girl." Reatha felt a warm glow fill her as the barmaid walked around the bar to greet the woman. The scene was touching, but a cold feeling of loss filled her and it took all of her energy to not let it show. It took her a while to recognise the feeling, it was the sense of longing the lonely have when they see what couples share.