Being Ace, page 3
“Input: Biromantic asexual,” she’d said as she entered the information into the system.
“No,” I’d interrupted. “Don’t input anything. I don’t want to be a series of checkboxes on a computer system.”
“But how are you going to meet anyone?” Sora asked. “Humans are social creatures. Most find companionship preferable.”
“Connection servers are for dating, and I don’t want to date anyone I don’t already have a connection with. Besides, I’ve got you and Tiki, and no plans of ever leaving this place.”
Sora never brought it up again; she just accepted it—which I think deep down is what I really needed.
I step through the shop door, and Tiki greets me with a vibrant whistle.
“Messages?” I frown. “From who?”
“Zoey from the T1 support center called eleven times since you’ve been away,” Sora explains.
“Really?” My heart thumps. Maybe she found the file. “Can you call her back?”
Tiki beeps. A moment later, Zoey’s voice fills the room. “Thank you for calling the T1 support center! This is Zoey speaking. How can I help?”
“Hi,” I say, more forcefully than I mean to.
There’s a pause.
“Um. This is Freya Kunimitsu. You called earlier and left a message.” Maybe I should’ve listened to the message first.
“Oh, Freya! I was calling you back because I was worried. You sounded so upset. Then I started thinking—I couldn’t stop thinking, really—and I have an idea of how to help.”
I blink, not sure I heard her correctly. “You … you can get the file back?”
“I told you there’s nothing I can do, and that’s still technically true. But your T1 is an old model, correct?” She waits for my confirmation. “Our new models have a data retrieval backup that’s entirely network operated. But the old T1’s had a ghost drive. You know—like a backup for a backup. Anyway, when a memory core loses information, you can usually swap out the core with a replacement and theoretically it should still be able to access the ghost drive. So all you’d need is a spare core!”
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. “Do you send those out?”
“Er—no. We haven’t had T1 parts in production for years. But if you knew someone who had another T1K1, you could swap out the cores temporarily.”
“But I don’t know anyone with a T1K1,” I say. “I’ve been buying and selling spare parts since I was thirteen, and I’ve never seen so much as a T1 faceplate come through here.”
“Hmm.” She taps away at a computer. “There aren’t a lot of places that have T1 parts registered, but … Oh, here! The Saturn District. That’s not far from you, right?”
My heart sinks. “The Saturn District? But that’s …”
“I know! So close. You could take a shuttle transport and be there by tonight. Thank goodness for hyper-speed, am I right?” I hear the tap-tap of more keystrokes. “The scrapyard owner’s name is Jules Byron. Woah, that’s a name. Anyway, he’s set up in the Star Quarter, just a mile from the docking bay. Want me to message you coordinates?”
The silence stretches between us.
“Hello? Freya?”
I swallow the knot in my throat. “I—I’ve never left the Neptune District.”
“Really?” Zoey’s voice immediately fills with joy. “That’s so exciting! It’ll be like going on an adventure.”
“No, I—” I take a breath. “I can’t leave the Neptune District. I’m afraid of flying. And traveling. And I’d have no idea what I was doing.”
“Oh,” she says slowly. “Well, I could try to get Jules Byron to ship you the part, but it’ll probably be a fortune. Plus, they’ll tax you at every cargo stop. You could probably buy a dozen brand-new T1 bots for what it will cost you.”
My stomach drops. “And that’s the only part showing up on your computer?”
“Yeah. There’s a couple on Mars, but that’s even farther, and you’ll have to get a visa to land,” Zoey explains. “I’m sorry. I really wanted to help.”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing. This isn’t your fault,” I say, even though deep down I know she won’t be able to help it. Customer service bots are probably coded to say it as many times as possible.
“Was it an important file? The one that got deleted?”
“It meant everything to me,” I say seriously.
“What if I come with you?” she offers suddenly. “Not physically, but on the comm. I could walk you through the whole trip. Maybe you wouldn’t have to be as scared if you weren’t alone.”
“You’d really do that?”
“I take customer service very seriously,” she says. “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Let’s just get you to the Saturn District before you change your mind.” The smile in her voice is like the sun. “Now, first off, you want to head to the transport dock and take the next shuttle to the outer ring …”
Tiki floats nearby. I think he’s as overwhelmed by the crowd as I am. I tug the bag hanging over my shoulder, imagining it’s more like armor. Something to help get me through this.
Zoey’s voice sounds in my ear-comm. “Do you see it?”
I look up at the departures sign. Various names for docks, space stations, and planets appear in columns. When I spot “Saturn District,” I relax. “Yeah, I see it. I’m supposed to go to dock B-32.”
“Great,” she says. “You’re really close. Just walk through the security field, and it should be on your left. They might stop you, but don’t worry. It’s just a standard check.”
I squeeze through the crowd, and Tiki bobs up and down to avoid colliding with anyone’s face. One of the security bots waves me to the side, scans my bag and clothes, and sends me to follow a massive crowd moving toward a docked shuttle.
“What color is it?” Zoey asks suddenly.
“What color is what?”
She laughs. “The shuttle!”
“Oh. It’s sort of green, but also sort of gray?”
“Ah. You’ll like that one. The bathrooms are way nicer than the red shuttles, and they have a free drinks station in the back. Good for nervous flyers.”
“I’m only seventeen,” I say. “I can’t drink.”
“Hey, me too!” she says. “Well, technically I’m sixteen for another month. If you count the years I spent in cryo-sleep when I was a kid, I’m twenty-six calendar years. But my aunt says that doesn’t count.”
“Wait—you’re not a bot?”
Zoey snorts a laugh. “Of course not! You really thought I was an AI?”
“I just assumed they didn’t have humans working in customer service anymore.”
“It’s a work experience credit,” Zoey explains. “I’m applying for the relocation program next year, and they only take candidates who have some kind of specialized training. I spend half the time answering calls and the rest working downstairs in the robotics lab.”
“You need to hang out with more scrappers. You’d learn robotics three times as fast, and you wouldn’t have to take part in tech support.”
“Don’t judge me, but I kind of enjoy it. I like meeting people from around the galaxy. Growing up on a space station can feel kind of …”
“Isolating?” I finish for her.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
It’s my turn to board the ship. I’m nearly to the loading ramp when a security bot motions to Tiki and speaks with a grated, heavy voice.
“Flight mode is not permissible in the shuttles,” the bot says.
Tiki settles in my hands, and I tap a button to temporarily deactivate his motor.
I step onto the ship. “Can you still hear me?” I ask the comm.
“Sure can,” Zoey says.
I find my seat near the long window and sit with Tiki in my lap. “I don’t know what I’m more worried about—the takeoff or the landing.”
“Don’t think about it. Let’s keep talking.” She asks me about my life: where I grew up, what made my parents move to the Neptune District, and why I’ve never left. I tell her everything. More than I’ve ever told anyone, besides Sora and Tiki.
“That must’ve been fun having a companion bot,” Zoey muses. “My school had an S0-R4 unit in the counseling room, but I never spoke to it. Someone stole its head as a prank. It just sat in the corner gathering dust.”
“That’s really sad.”
“Sorry—again. I’m supposed to be cheering you up!”
The ship rumbles, and a safety recording plays through the speakers. I clutch the edge of my seat, fingers digging into the cushion.
“What’s your favorite color?” Zoey asks, trying to distract me.
“Um. Green?”
“Understandable choice for anyone living in space. Mine’s yellow. I like looking at things that make me happy. Okay, what’s your favorite fruit?”
“Pineapple.” Just like Dad.
“Mine, too!” Zoey squeals. “I’ve only ever tried the canned stuff, but I heard the new colonies have been growing them.”
The world moves outside, turning to starlight. I forget to breathe.
“You okay?” she asks.
“I think so.”
“Want to play a game?”
I grin. “Sure.”
“All right. You have to find a sign, and then purposely misinterpret it.” She pauses. “Can I send photos to your holo-comm?”
I tap my wristband. “Yeah. It’s all connected.”
“Okay, I’ll go first.” An image comes through on the small screen. It looks like a road going under a bridge with a line through it. “This one means ‘No robots allowed.’”
I laugh. “I can see it. But wait, what does it actually mean?”
“Something about the end of a motorway. I pulled it off the network. Your turn.”
I look around the room and use my comm to take a photo of a ‘No Smoking’ sign. “This one means ‘Don’t drop the flag.’”
Zoey giggles. We go back and forth sending photos when I realize we’ve been in space for half an hour and I’m no longer clutching the seat.
“Thanks for keeping me company,” I say. “If you have to go back to work now, I understand.”
“No way, I’ve already committed to this.” I can hear her chewing on the other end of the call. “I’m eating a sandwich, though. It’s my lunch break.”
“You won’t get in trouble? I wasn’t worried when I thought you were a bot doing what you were programmed to do, but now that I know you’re human, I don’t want you to get fired because of me.”
“Nah. My aunt got me the job. And to be honest, nobody really calls for T1 support anymore. You know those bots are ancient, right?”
We talk for another hour about school, and space, and sunlight. Zoey tells me she wishes she could have a pet, like the kids on Earth. I tell her I’m not sure I’d trust anything with sharp teeth that couldn’t be reasoned with.
“How come your parents wanted to move to the Neo Colony?” she asks.
“A better life, I guess. They said it would be easier to raise a family on a new planet, where there wouldn’t be the same restrictions on water and food. They thought it would be like getting a second chance to take better care of the world.”
“I’d rather travel the galaxy than be stuck in one place,” Zoey muses.
“I never thought I’d make it to the docking bay until today.” I think of Kelso’s tattoos. “But I used to dream of traveling from station to station, planet to planet. Before my parents died, all I really wanted was to go to school, make a best friend, and go on adventures.”
“I’m really sorry about what happened to them.”
I lean into the corner. “Me too.”
“They’d be proud of you for making it this far. You’re in space! Earlier today, you didn’t even think that was possible. I’m proud of you,” Zoey gushes.
“Don’t get your expectations too high. I still need to find Jules Byron’s scrapyard, and I’ve never been to a station as big as Saturn’s. I might never find my way home.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t get lost,” Zoey says easily. “I promise.”
The scrapyard door is nearly as wide as my entire shop. When the metal doors slide open, I stare in awe at the amount of secondhand robots and recycled parts.
“Is it beautiful?” Zoey whispers into the comm.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I reply.
Tiki buzzes beside me before taking off into the space. He won’t go far. He’s just curious, like me.
A burly man with wiry gray hair appears. He’s wearing a leather apron and safety goggles that look a lot more expensive than mine. “You looking for anything in particular?”
“Are you Jules Byron?”
“Sure am.”
“I heard you have a memory core on hand for an old T1K1,” I say. Zoey rattles off the part number in my ear, and I relay it to Jules.
He eyes Tiki and frowns. “You know, you’d be a lot better off replacing the whole bot. Those things have been breaking down left and right over the past decade. I’ve got a decent secondhand TK2 in the back.”
“Tiki is family,” I say, firm. “But a memory file disappeared. One that’s really important to me. I heard there might be a way to retrieve the ghost data.”
“Let’s take a look at it, hmm?” Jules waves me to the counter.
I call for Tiki and set him on the surface, waiting while Jules disappears in the back room to retrieve the part.
“Does he look like a poet?” Zoey asks. “He sounds like a poet.”
I smile. “He looks like a scrapper.”
Jules returns with a small chip. He hooks Tiki up to a nearby computer, replaces the part, and runs the software through the cable. Typing at the keyboard, he pulls up the ghost data and scrolls.
There’s only one file inside.
“This it?” he says, motioning to the screen.
I frown, leaning closer. “No. No, that’s not it.”
Jules shrugs. “Sorry, but there’s nothing else here.”
“But—but that doesn’t make sense. How could the rest of the data just vanish?”
“They’re old bots. You can’t rely on old bots.” He points to the screen. “Want me to transfer it to your main storage?”
My shoulders fall, and I nod.
He unhooks Tiki, and I follow Jules to the counter and open my holo-comm to pay for the replacement core.
Jules waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody was going to buy that thing anyway. You’re doing me a favor by taking it off my hands.” He pauses. “Sure I can’t interest you in that TK2? It’s got a real quiet motor, and excellent holo footage.”
I clutch Tiki close to my chest. “Thanks, but I’m not ready to let him go yet.”
Jules nods. “Well, when you’re ready, you know where to find me.”
Outside the scrapyard, my shoulders start to shake.
“I—I really thought that would work,” Zoey says quietly. “Are you going to be okay?”
I tap a finger against Tiki’s head. “It was the last message my parents left me, right before they died. It’s the last time I saw them alive.”
Zoey is quiet for a moment. “Hey, can I take you somewhere?”
I blink hard. “Okay.”
She rattles off directions, and I wind through a busy crowd until I reach a glass elevator. Three stories later, I step onto a metal platform. A tall, silver door waits in front of me.
“You can go in,” Zoey says. “You’re not breaking any rules.”
I press the panel on the wall, and the door slides open. An enormous garden comes into view. Dozens of trees burst from the ground, surrounded by thick bushes and flowering plants. There’s green everywhere in every shade: emerald, lime, jungle, forest, just like all the crayons I had growing up when I was trying to make the world seem brighter. Stretched across the back of the room is a glass window that curves around the entire indoor terrarium.
“I went there with my parents when I was a kid,” Zoey explains. “I remember looking out the window and realizing how big the universe was. It made me feel so scared. But then I turned around and saw the plants growing, and I realized that life doesn’t have to be big to matter. It’s okay to find a small part of it that just makes you feel safe.”
Tiki floats out of my hands and hovers near a bench at the wall. I take a seat and watch the stars flicker in every direction. I imagine my parents sitting beside me, holding both my hands with theirs. I imagine what our lives would’ve been like if they’d never tried to move to the Neo Colony.
I imagine who I’d be if I hadn’t grown up alone.
The truth is, it isn’t the galaxy that scares me. It’s stepping into it without them.
“I—I think I need to hang up now,” I say, fighting back tears. “But thank you. For everything.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help,” Zoey says sadly.
“You did. You got me out of the house. I just—I need to figure out this next part on my own.”
“Okay. It was nice to meet you, Freya.”
“You too,” I say, and the comm goes silent.
I wrap my arms around myself and watch the shuttles go by. Tiki chirps, and I look across with a frown.
“A message?” I repeat.
Tiki sways for a moment before finding a spot midair. A hologram emits from his projector. One I’ve never seen before.
I look in the top corner at the file name. It’s the one Jules found in the ghost data. In the bottom right corner is a name: Kunimitsu, Sarah.
When Mom’s face appears, I feel as if the world has tilted on its side.
“Hi again!” she sings, mildly embarrassed. “I know I just sent you a message with your dad, but I still had more I wanted to say, so … here I am!” She tucks her hair behind her ears. “I’ve been trying to find the right way to say this for a while, and maybe I’m feeling a little emotional at the thought of being asleep for so long, but this seemed like as good a time as any to get the words out.
“I’m sure you already know this, but we’ve been talking a lot over the past year about building roots in a new colony. We love the idea of staying in one place and building something permanent. But sometimes I can see it in your face—the worry that you’ll disappoint us if you don’t want the same thing.
