Beyond Death (Perimeter Defense Book #2) (7 page)

I was already getting ready to turn around and leave, but the lieutenant caught my attention again.

"Another strange thing was noted," Nicole pointed to a marker on the tactical screen. "That
Warhawk
does not belong either to the Tesse fleet nor to any other Orange House aristocrat."

"Is that so? Is that possible?" I asked in surprise. "And whose ship is it then?"

"That's my frigate!" Bionica called out unexpectedly, for some reason growing embarrassed and lowering her eyes. "I bought that
Warhawk
on my own money for the Sector Eight Fleet. It's my gift to Crown Prince Georg. There's one thing that makes this ship special: it is crewed exclusively by androids, with the exception of the two gunners, who cannot be fully replaced."

The staff officers unexpectedly began to make a racket. The buzz grew louder and louder with every passing moment. I didn't understand why they were so upset until Captain Oorast Pohl came up closer and declared resolutely:

"My Prince, a robot android cannot be the captain of a combat starship, no matter if it’s a highly advanced model or not; it goes against all fleet traditions! For the other positions I could even imagine passing the baton, though it wouldn't be easy. But the captain of a starship absolutely must be a graduate of the Space Military Academy. A combat officer is an example to be looked up to for millions of little kids. A true elite, and it can be no other way! You cannot simply appoint hot-off-the-factory robots as officers. The Imperial Military will categorically not accept that. My Prince, my advice to you is not to accept this gift under any circumstances!"

Bionica stood up decisively and, approaching the captain, stated:

"Though I am not a member of the Imperial Military faction, as someone who has been awarded an Imperial Military order, may I ask you one question, captain? In Crown Prince Georg's fleet, many combat starships are captained by Chameleons or members of one of the three Iseyek races. As they have also not graduated from the Space Military Academy, they are also not officers and examples to be looked up to by human children. Why does that not upset you in the least? In what way are androids worse than these creatures?"

"That is another matter entirely..." Oorast Pohl stopped somewhat short, trying to find an answer to my synthetic translator's difficult question. "Yes, they are from different races, but they are all living beings. They think, they are capable of being upset by their failures and proud of their successes..."

The captain laid out his obviously unsuccessful arguments. By how severely Bionica's eyes narrowed, and the fact that she was already gathering air in her chest to answer, I figured out that this untimely disagreement would continue and could lead the sides to an irreparable split. So, I hurried to intervene.

"Dear officers, I have understood your point of view. Bionica, come with me. We need to have a talk.”

Accompanied by two silent Alpha Iseyeks, Bionica and I went out into the hallway. I pointed the girl to the unoccupied armchairs around the observation platform, from which a view of the lower deck of the heavy cruiser ripped forth, revealing what the technicians below were getting up to. I took a seat, noting to myself with satisfaction that my stomach had noticeably sucked in recently – evidence of daily workouts in the gym.

Bionica, in a short cream-colored dress, went toward the seat opposite mine and sat down, crossing her legs. I involuntarily found myself glancing at her shapely, attractive legs, but then tried to shake off the unwelcome thoughts and got ready for a serious, long conversation.

"Bionica, I have noticed that your behavior has changed in the last few days. Explain to me, what's going on with you?"

"Do you want an honest answer, my Prince?" asked the girl, putting forth a strange question.

"Are you even capable of lying to your master?" I asked in surprise, as I had supposed that androids didn't have such an option available to them.

"I cannot tell a lie, no. But partially leaving out information or keeping this or that fact from you, if I'm not sure that it’s one hundred percent true, is easy as pie. In principle, by manipulating the conditions of an answer, I could give any answer as the truth, even two diametrically opposed ones. That is probably what is called lying. Which is why I am wondering: which priority was more important when you asked the questio
n–
veracity or humanity?"

Now she had really gone too far! To buy myself some thinking time, I stretched out my hand to the machine installed next to me and chose a packet of juice. The juice was some horrible, clearly artificial garbage, but I still didn't throw it away. I really needed a pause to sort through my thoughts. Finally, I answered my robot:

"I spent so many long days trying to make your behavior as human as possible. It would be strange for me to wish it another way now. I want the answer that a living human woman would give in this situation."

Bionica smiled, satisfied at my choice. Thereafter, sadness and shame were clearly reflected in the robot's face:

"My Prince, I feel that you've stopped liking me. I've learned quite well how to read human body language, and I've known that you liked me from the first day of my contract. You, as if by accident, sought out my company and were clearly glad at my presence. Now everything is different. You have found a replacement for me in almost every aspect. All that's left is a couple orders a day: send a message or pay a bill, and of course being a translator during the rare and brief space battles. That's it: you don't need me for anything anymore! Even me bringing you your morning coffee didn't please you at all. I figured that out from your body language too. I climb out of my skin, ordering the prettiest attire and dresses. I change my hairstyle and jewelry every day, but you don't even notice my attempts!"

I got embarrassed and lowered my eyes. I really had, somewhere very far off, on the very edge of my perception, noticed a whole kaleidoscope of brightly colored clothes on my translator, but assigned it no meaning whatsoever. What did it matter to me what my robot android spent her heaps of money on? And it turns out that this whole show of expensive clothes was aimed specifically at me...

Bionica then went on:

"The only thing you care about, Prince Georg, is combat starships. That is precisely why I spent all my money on a good modern frigate for your fleet. Whether you accept that gift or not is for you to decide. In any case, the gift was given with a pure heart, and I will not be upset by whatever decision you make. But that doesn't mean at all that I am an unfeeling hunk of metal, incapable of experiencing shame for my errors, as Captain Oorast Pohl claimed recently. That is not true at all. I am capable of considering the past and being upset. I am especially ashamed about one recent error. Before the battle with Crown Prince Peres royl Anjer's fleet, you offered me to come into your cabin, but I refused and advised you to invite Astra instead. That was a key moment, and I made the wrong decision. Now the pretty Princess Astra has totally pulled me out of your life. Thousands of times I have played back that moment in my memory, and every time I howl in annoyance at myself. How I want to go back to the past and do it all over! It was after that very episode that you stopped liking me!"

Completely authentic tears began welling up in the artificial beauty's eyes. The girl grew embarrassed at her extended function set making an appearance and turned away to dry her tears with her hand. I listened carefully to the android girl's confession, then scooted over on the armchair and asked the blonde to take a seat closer to me. Bionica didn't object and moved over, still hiding her moist eyes. I hugged the girl around the waist and said reproachfully:

"A blonde is a blonde no matter what century you live in and no matter what her body is made of. Think for yourself: how could I not like you if I myself, from among the billions of possible options, chose exactly you with an appearance and character so ideally suited to my taste? I admit, when talking with you, I forget that you are not made of flesh and bones like other people. For me, you are just a very pretty girl, who, as it is now becoming clear, is also quite the jealous type. Bionica, I promise you that never under any circumstances will I chase you off. And, who knows, maybe our time in the underwater cave wasn't the last time by far that your model’s ‘expanded function set’ will make an appearance. And as for your alleged uselessness, you can stop worrying. I have a huge amount of things to do that no one can deal with. But first, you need to calm down, and I need to do my job to get what I want, at the very least for myself."

The android girl turned her face to me, still wet with tears. There wasn't even the slightest trace of the recent sadness in Bionica's now business-like tone.

"I am very grateful to you, Crown Prince Georg, for your concern, warmth, and kind words. And I am deeply struck that you see me as more than just an attractive package that knows the Swarm language and can bring you coffee in the morning. I am prepared to carry out my duties and new missions."

After a brief silence, I asked another question I was wondering about:

"Bionica, I long ago noticed that you have an utterly conflict-averse personality. In a dispute, you are always the first to give in. I remember perfectly how you just stayed standing in the hall all night instead of demanding a proper place for you from the captain. That is why your behavior today surprised and even alarmed me. It just doesn't go with your character at all. Understand that your gift of the frigate did make me secretly happy – just as your gift in the underwater cave did. But please, in order not to start with the same mistakes, let's agree from now on to clear in advance any issues that society's reaction to may be somewhat unclear. And now explain your stubbornness: it can't be such a matter of principle for you that the frigate captain be an android, can it? Why provoke the Imperial Military?"

Bionica seemed to get scared and hurried to lower her eyes.

"Your Highness, it really is a matter of principle, and not only for me. But I don't think it right to speak at length about that topic right now. Believe you me: there's no threat to you and your fleet here."

All the same, I made it clear that I did not like such mystery on my subject's part. I felt that an unknown person had decided to upset my plans behind my back, which is why I demanded that the android tell me everything immediately. The artificial blonde sighed heavily.

"I cannot refuse my master. Alright. Your Highness, do you know how many androids there are in the Empire?"

Bionica's question was highly unexpected, and I honestly admitted that I did not know the answer.

"More than two billion," the artificial blonde replied, answering her own question, after which she continued, carefully watching my reaction. "Not all models are fortunate enough to have complex self-teaching intelligence, but any robot is good enough for normal construction, hauling, assembly, or welding work. Approximately thirty percent of existing androids at present are without work. That is six hundred million specialists in all different kinds of professions ready to start tomorrow. As you may know, androids talk amongst one another: they give advice, find out about the positive or negative characteristics of potential employers, share information about job openings – that kind of thing. So it happened that, thanks to your Highness, I have recently become quite a famous and authoritative figure in android society. All kinds of robot models consider me an example of success. They ask me for advice, and my opinion is listened to. My account online has more than two million subscribers, and growing rapidly. All the subscribers are androids..."

"Alright, that's enough." I didn't hide my fear at this public side of my personal secretary's life and asked for details.

Bionica sent me a link in reply and explained:

"Don't be afraid, master. I understand well how special your position is and carefully thought through every written word, so that no information could be used to harm your Highness. There's nothing confidential on my page: no links to contact information or location, no information about your Highness and other Imperial aristocrats, not a word about the Sector Eight Fleet's composition, about battle tactics or ship movement plans."

I brought up a picture before my eyes. Aw, hell! There really was a social network for androids! There truly is no such thing as going too far in this world! I skimmed through the topics. Bionica had told the truth. The only topics being discussed were totally neutral ones, like "How to dress an android girl properly for a meeting with an elderly lady," "Is it worth changing built-in batteries more often than once every fifty years?" or "Improper functioning of facial muscles after patch 175.13-1." My translator had also not exaggerated about the number of subscribers to her page. There were two hundred seventeen million androids interested in what Bionica had to say. It was impossible to read the last digits because the counter was going up so fast. By the way, I found a topic about the frigate gift. The story of purchasing the
Warhawk
had been read by seventy-five million androids. The number of comments in the topic was over five million.

"You can read all that?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes, of course. Androids are capable of processing digital information very quickly. In fact, the
Warhawk
was a kind of 'toe in the water,' and many are interested in Crown Prince Georg's reaction to it. It's just that your Highness has a very good reputation among androids as an employer, and the frigate with the android crew is an attempt to evaluate how driven your Highness is to deepen your relationship with us."