#android romance

“I don’t need a damn machine watching over me,” Hank muttered as Connor followed the two of you across the bullpen, walking with that immaculate posture that somehow made people even angrier.

You glanced back at Connor.

He offered a polite, hopeful smile.

Poor guy.

“Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor began, “I simply wish to—”

“Nope. Don’t wanna hear it.”

You stepped in before Hank could escalate.

“Hey, c’mon, Hank. He’s not doing anything wrong.”

Connor’s LED flickered in mild confusion.

Hank scowled at you like you’d chosen violence.

You were halfway through processing a crime scene when Connor crouched beside you, his eyes glowing faintly as he scanned evidence. Hank hovered in the doorway, arms crossed, broadcasting disapproval like a nuclear signal.

Connor leaned slightly closer, tone gentle.

“Detective, I believe I’ve identified—”

“Connor,” Hank barked, “if you say the word ‘analysis’ one more time—”

“Hank!” you cut in, exasperated. “He’s trying to help.”

Connor’s eyebrows lifted a fraction.

You could swear you heard a soft chime — relief?

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

You didn’t know androids could sound almost… shy.

It quickly became a daily routine.

Connor offers help.

Hank threatens to break something.

You swoop in like Connor’s unofficial bodyguard.

When Connor tried handing Hank his coffee?

“I don’t need caffeine delivered by a glorified Roomba.”

You snatched the cup before Connor’s LED could flash to yellow.

“Hank! Drink your coffee and be nice.”

Connor looked at you with something suspiciously close to *gratitude-coded admiration*.

When Connor reported an observation mid-case?

“I swear to God, plastic boy—”

“Hank!” you snapped again.

“Stop verbally assaulting Connor.”

“I’m not assaulting him,” Hank said.

“I’m verbally educating him.”

“You’re traumatizing him!”

Connor blinked slowly.

“I am… not traumatized.”

“Don’t lie for him, Connor.”

Connor had no idea whose side he was supposed to be on.

Androids weren’t meant to stare — but Connor did.

Not in a creepy way.

In a processing something unfamiliar, intriguing, possibly mission-critical way.

Whenever you defended him, he straightened.

Whenever you smiled at him, his thirium pump kicked up a fraction.

Whenever you touched his arm while pulling Hank away from throwing hands… well, he almost blue-screened.

One afternoon, Hank stormed off after yelling something about androids ruining society.

Connor looked at you, LED spinning.

“Detective… Why do you defend me?”

You shrugged.

“Because you’re trying. And because you don’t deserve to be yelled at every thirty seconds.”

He tilted his head.

“I find your empathy… statistically rare.”

A beat.

Then:

“I like it.”

Your heart skipped.

He noticed.

His LED flickered for half a second before returning to blue.

You pretended not to see.

He pretended not to malfunction.

The next time Hank tried to “educate” Connor, you stepped between them again.

“Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor said from behind you, “I believe Detective Y/L/N is preventing further physical altercations.”

“Damn right I am,” you muttered.

Hank threw his hands up.

“You know what? Fine. You two can babysit each other. I’m going to get lunch.”

He stomped off, leaving you and Connor standing close — too close — in the empty hallway.

Connor looked at you with something warmer than anything you’d ever expect from an android.

“Thank you… for protecting me.”

You smiled.

“Anytime.”

His LED glowed a soft, steady blue.

I heard a voice, several actually. They sounded far away, whispered and warbled. There was air upon my face, a warmth. Was I finally being brought out of cryo? Were we on our new home planet?

“The pod was among their cargo. They had been maintaining it all this time.” It was the first voice I heard as I awoke. My new life, my new home, was before me with this voice. A voice that sounds so even, so unbothered.

“But it’s such old technology. These are practically ancient by today’s standards.” Someone else said, farther off in the distance.

“They said they were using it as a bargaining chip. Look here,” the even voice replied. “See here? This is a dignitary pod.”

“So, they’ve had a politician on ice for close to a century?” The other voice was in disbelief, then exclaimed in shock. “Someone go get the captain!”

“I’ve already called for him. When I was checking the occupants’ vitals, I noticed something strange in the diagnostics of the life support. The life support settings were to be maintained for a male occupant of tall stature and above-average weight.”

“Ah ha,” the other voice breathed. “Is she a stowaway?”

“Her setup in the pod makes it unlikely. Perhaps the original occupant was in her pod.”

“By mistake?” The other clicked their tongue. “There’s the captain.”

My eyes finally opened, peeling back to see the cold, sterile light above me. I saw shadows hovering overhead. Everything was a blur, misshapen. I had the eyes of a newborn kitten. Because my jaw felt like rusted metal, I couldn’t speak. 

“Do not worry,” was that cool tone directed at me. “You’re in safe hands here. Whoever you are, I will take care of you.” The touch of a kind hand, smooth skin. I must have fallen back under. They say cryo has horrible jet lag. 

I dreamed of my son running up a hill. He was running ahead of me, while I was slipping and sliding in the damp earth. I clawed at the dark loam, pulling out grass from the roots as I tried to gain traction to get him. Then, someone pulled me backward and threw me onto the rocks below. As I looked up, I opened my mouth to scream and-

Fresh air. I had forgotten fresh air. I breathed in deeply, sighing softly. My mouth was dry, horribly dry. My eyes were weak and didn’t want to open at first. Some forceful blinking allowed me to wake and stare at the pale pink ceiling.

“Doctor,” a soft voice squeaked.

A shadow loomed over me, and while I wanted to turn my head, everything was stiff and noncompliant. “Welcome back, Irini Kairaki.”

The first thing I saw was the smooth, blank expression of the man above me. His skin was overly pale, his eyes a radiant, fantastical purple, his hair overly black. He appeared to be a porcelain doll.

I blinked a few times to make sure that the man I was seeing was real. “Where am I?” is what I wanted to say. Instead, I said: “Aack eee kaak.”

The porcelain doll shook his head. “You can’t talk just yet. You’ve been in cryostasis for a long time.”

How long?

“Right now, you are in the hospital bay of the starship Phoebe. I am Dr. River and will take care of you as you recover from cryostasis syndrome.” He had no inflection in his tone, nor upon his face. But his presence was strangely comforting.

I wanted to ask how long, but once again my voice came out as haunted creaks and groans.

His eyes flicked aside for the briefest of moments, looking at something I couldn’t see. “I don’t want you to be alarmed, but your time in cryostasis was quite a long time, Ms. Kairaki.”

That cold, dark realization stabbed me through. “My son?” My voice came out hoarse, cracked, and shredded. I wanted tears to come. I wanted them to flow so badly, but nothing sprang up. There was merely a sensation in my eyes, like something should be working.

His fingers gently touched my throat. “We’re working on finding your records, Ms. Kairaki. Ossun rebels seized the ship you were on shortly after your journey began.”

I grabbed hold of his hand before it moved away from my throat. I intended to grab it firmly, but my hands weren’t working and he slipped out of my grasp without even moving. 

River’s expression never shifted. “All we found was you. We believe the Ossun rebels were looking to capture pods containing high-ranking members of the military and government. Then they would use them as bargaining chips. Your pod’s listed owner appears to be a Cal Tototi.”

I laid back in the bed as the dreaded realization flooded over me. It was a relief and a slap to the face. I know what Cal had done. “Aaak! Eeeee!”

“Stay calm.” River tapped a syringe against the blade of his fingers. “Keep your mouth open for me.” A cold, viscous fluid went down my throat. He then held my jaw closed. “Swallow. Careful.” 

Burning! My throat burned like crazy. I let out a pained cry, and my voice sounded like my own again.

He massaged my jaw gently, slowly. His purple eyes remained fixed on me before he released me. “Kairaki, could you confirm your name to me?”

I wasn’t sure what would happen when I opened my mouth again. The burning was faint, but it lingered there in my throat until I opened my mouth.

“Irini.” I was still hoarse, still shredded, but it wasn’t an effort to speak anymore.

Dr. River nodded, tapping his fingers on a holographic screen. “Good. Can you tell me your relationship with Cal Totoi?”

“Couple.” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth at the start.

“Odd.” Dr. River tilted his head slightly. His brow only pinched barely. “I do not see your name among his-”

“Common law.” The wedding was supposed to happen after we landed. Not that it was going to be a big deal or anything, as Cal was doing it to shut up his family. How lucky for him I ended up here.

“Let me get you some water, Ms. Kairaki.” The nurse, who must have been hovering outside my line of vision, darted off.

Dr. River took a hold of my hand, pressing his thumb into the center of my palm. “I’m glad you are staying calm.”

I swallowed, but even that was like pushing a boulder. “As a cucumber.”

His hand was cool as it touched my forehead. “Not to worry. We will do our best for you. While we try to find the best place to send you, you will stay here and go through rehab as you come out of cryo syndrome.”

His voice sounded so warm and so cold at the same time. “Thank you.”

A small floating bot returned with water and Dr. River helped to move me so I could drink. I choked on my first attempt, but even the water sitting in my mouth was nice. 

“That’s good,” the doctor murmured. 

I let out a breath, and my throat wasn’t so tight. “How long?”

His eyes raised, his expression completely blank beside the space between his brows and eyes had grown. “What’s that?”

I swallowed again, trying to catch my breath from taking a drink still. “How long was I in cryostasis?” It was the longest, hardest sentence I ever had to say. In reality, it was nothing, but my mouth hadn’t moved in so long.

“Fifty-three years.”

I suppose I wasn’t ready to hear that, because the next thing I know I’m waking up again. Which would become quite common for me. I faded in and out of sleep, which was ironic given I had been asleep for half a century, but I was so weak my body didn’t quite know how to operate.

I would often wake with special equipment attached to my arms and legs to build up their strength. It was like a nice massage, but Dr. River assured me more was going on that I couldn’t see.

I was going through one such therapy a few days after my voice fully returned. Dr. River was reading progress charts floating above my bed.

“So we didn’t enter a dark age after I vanished?” I teased him.

“Progress must make its way,” he replied to me. His constant calm was forming a mystery around him. Was he human? A new intergalactic lifeform? Dare I say the mystery and aloofness were attractive? No. I had to keep my head about this. He was a doctor, dammit.

“And you are making progress,” he interrupted my thoughts. Those deep purple eyes focused on mine. “But remember, healing is not a linear experience. Nor is it the same between people.”

Was he looking at me? Or was it through me? Sometimes I thought he was looking inside me to see all my machinations working, my muscles growing, my food digesting. But that would be impossible, right?

“Right,” I agreed. I could barely move my head, and when I smiled, it left my face sore for a bit.

“You’re a first,” he continued. Walking around the bed, he tapped at some of the floating holographic screens to read charts, leave notes. He was quite the multitasker. “Researchers have never studied cryo syndrome beyond a ten-year mark. You are quite the miracle.”

It didn’t feel that way at all. It was like a curse. Over fifty years? That was a lifetime just gone! Lost to time and space. Literally!

My shoulders slouched, and I fought the urge to cry. “Lucky me.”

Dr. River turned to me. “Yes. You are.”

I suppressed a smile. “You don’t recognize sarcasm very well, do you, doctor?”

He was still for a moment, eyes unblinking, tapping away at holographic screens. “Not really. Is that what you were doing?”

Even a soft chuckle seemed to knock the wind out of me. “It’s okay. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’m happy to be alive. Although I feel quite cursed all the same.”

Dr. River waved his hands, making the screens fade away. “I understand it will take you time to get used to your new surroundings. The world has changed since you were gone. Your body is not the one you are used to. I assure you, though, I will be with you every step of the way. If you would allow me, I would be grateful if you allowed me to share my findings.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “Every girl’s dream, to be an experiment.”

That cool face of his turned steely for a moment. “That was sarcasm.”

I arched my brows. “Quick learner.”

“Ms. Kairaki,” Dr. River said as he took a seat beside my bed. “You are a miracle. One that could prove useful to the progress of medicine and healing. If we can leave people in cryo for so long, imagine what we could do to prolong people’s lives.

“I don’t mind that,” I assured him. “I just don’t want to be made a spectacle.”

He gave me a small nod. “I am going to take care of you as long as you need me.”

Oh foolish heart, do not beat so readily for the sweet words of yet another man. No matter how violet his eyes are, no matter how beautiful he may be with his sharp jaw and porcelain like skin. Do not beat until our days do not feel so numbered. 

“Thank you, doctor,” I faded into a yawn which stretched my chest beyond my comfort, aching my ribs, jaw, even teeth.

“Good sign,” Dr. River noted, standing up. 

I let out a pathetic, petulant whine. “When will everything stop hurting?”

“In time,” he answered. “Think of it as growing pains all over again.”

An exasperated breath whistled between my teeth as I couldn’t open my jaw much wider. Easy for him to say. My irritation stemmed from the intensity of my emotions. My body was weak, but anything that wasn’t physical was so much stronger. 

I was alone for swaths at a time. When I wasn’t asleep, it was disheartening. I loved to have people around me, especially now. I would have loved a room full of people to talk to, to catch up with. Unfortunately, I had to remain quarantined in my room, after that I could roam around just the hospital wing. Who knows how long that would be, let alone being introduced back into the world, or ship really? How long would I be on the ship?

“You were an artist,” Dr. River said one day.

“I was,” I responded, giving him a quizzical look. “Where did you find that out?”

He came around the end of the bed, standing at my side as he looked over the pad in his hands. “School records.” That sounded too quick a response, but what did I know anymore? “I could track down some information about you from that. Then I could locate birth records, bank records and the like.” He set the pad down and then took the seat beside me. “We want to make sure you have somewhere to go once we release you. So we’re finding next of kin.”

I thought of Jude, my son, and my whole being ached. Everything was so much stronger. The grief, the loneliness. Just the thought of my son sent me spiraling. It was like a rage inside me, a possession. The sorrow was a demon entering my body, ravaging it, tearing me apart limb from limb before it reached my soul and-

“Ms. Kairaki, it’s okay.” Dr. River’s cool, smooth voice reached me. “It’s a panic attack. This is normal.” He was holding my hand fast, grounding me.

The pain in my chest, the tightness, it was more than I could bear. Everything was so raw, so intense. I didn’t want to live like this. “It hurts.”

“Breathe,” he whispered. His hand rested at the back of my head, a gentle, supportive embrace for my weak neck. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I had received many empty promises before. By my father, by Cal, even by me. I had promised that exact thing to my son, my Jude. No one could keep that promise, could they? No one! But it was nice to hear. The coolness of it on River’s lips sounded so easy, so true.

I tried to breathe, as he said. They came out as shaken, stunted things, slowly growing more smooth, much deeper. The tears rolled down my face, stinging hot. My whole body was sore, beaten by emotion alone. If this was life now, I’m not sure I wanted it.

“Heartbeat, regular,” River murmured, lifting a hand to touch something above me. “On the edge of dehydration, we’ll get that taken care of.” 

A small hum near my ear startled me and I opened my eyes, realizing the world was blurry and fogged. I couldn’t even raise my hands to rub my eyes. Pathetic!

“Ms. Kairaki, there’s no need to be frustrated. People have suffered worse things from cryo syndrome and they were in there much shorter than you. Have hope. The right people found you and you will be in the perfect place for your care. It will be a long battle, but you’re on a ship of fighters and soldiers. You’ll find strength here.”

“Poetic,” I mumbled.

“It’s something I was told when I first joined the crew of the Phoebe.” His hand rested on my cheek, gently wiping away tears. “Rest now.”

“Rest is all I do,” I pouted.

River stood from the bed, and the lights dimmed yet again. “Because it is what you need most. The body is capable of amazing things. You need to listen to it.”

I opened my eyes again to the fog, seeing River’s outline just before me. “Are you leaving?”

“Only for a moment, then I will be right back.”

I suppose that soothed me, or maybe I was too exhausted to worry about it. I fell back asleep, easing into it like actually sleeping rather than unconsciousness.

“I think you should be able to sit up on your own. Would you like to try it?” He disengaged the machines and helped me to lie on my back. It was so nice being touched, even like this. His firm hands offered appreciated closeness.

How long had I been out? Days? Weeks? My sense of time was all skewed. “Are you sure, Doc?”

He nodded, coming to my side and offering his hand. “I am always certain. I even ordered a special meal for you to be delivered soon.”

“A meal?” I took his hand in mine, squeezing it extra tight. “Like, proper food?” I had been living off IV bags and nutrient packets since I got here. I was aching for something to chew on.

He gave me that predictably tight nob. “All food is proper.” His hand squeezed back. “Breathe and lift.”

I strained, and the muscles in my back snapped and tightened. There was a familiar strength and ease. I took hold of the sides of the bed, pushing more, lifting myself up. Then, I sat there.

“Wonderful.” He stepped back, admiring me in my upright position. “How do you feel? Your heart rate is up, though. Perhaps it was too soon.”

“I feel fine otherwise, Doctor,” I chuckled. “I think I’m just excited to be upright for once.”

A soft smile graced his face. “That is what I like to hear.”

The floating bot came into the room and the smell coming from it had my mouth watering.

I gasped, eyes focused on the tray.. “Oh my goodness, is that food? Real food?” 

River took the tray, placing it on the swiveling table, which he then served before me. “I thought we might try to experiment here. You are doing well. If you can sit up, I think you can have a small meal.”

It was a simple spread of soup and applesauce, but to me, it smelled like the ambrosia of the gods.

“I have missed real food, doctor.”

River laid a spoon down on the tray. “I hope it will make up for the half century you have missed.”

I picked up the spoon, my hand shaking as I tried to hold it like normal.      

It was all part of the process. His observing eyes were watching my hand intently, studying every move, every weak muscle. “If you need to make a fist, there is no harm in it. I wouldn’t want the soup to burn you.” 

“It’s amazing the things one takes for granted.” I set the spoon down and it clattered off the tray and into my lap. I frowned in frustration. 

River picked the spoon up for me, wiping it clean, then placing it back upon the tray. “Try eating the apples first,” he offered. “So if they spill, it will not be uncomfortable for you.”

“We had to eat so many apples when I was little,” I admitted. “I promised myself that when I grew up, I never had to eat another one until I had to. I would only eat rice pudding.” If I could prolong embarrassing myself again, I’d rather not pick up the spoon.

“Well, you know what they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Was he attempting a joke? He pushed the bowl of applesauce towards me.

“Would that be in my best interest?” I asked with a smile.

He was quiet for a beat. His face was usually so unreadable. But for a moment, ever so faintly, he looked pleased. “No. I suppose not.”

I grinned, trying again to grab the spoon. “I remember when my son first ate with utensils. This must be what he felt like.” I brought the mash up to my mouth. It was sweet, tart, and filled with cinnamon.

“Very good.” River nodded. “Any issue chewing?”

I found my first eating experience lackluster. “It’s very good. Although everything tastes kind of…dull?” I glanced at him apologetically. “I hate to say that about your chef.”

Nothing on the doctor’s slim face shifted, but his eyes widened. His smooth complexion made me envious. “Nothing to worry about. Cryostasis affects all aspects of the body. After how long you were in it, I’m surprised you can taste anything at all.”

I swallowed, and aside from the texture, nothing else about the experienced pleased me. “How long will it take for me to get back to something normal?”

His gaze didn’t shift, but he was quiet as he processed his answer. “Sometimes the process can take years. And remember, Ms. Kairaki, a body shouldn’t remain in cryostasis for longer than ten years.”

My stomach sank, and I wanted to cry. “How long before I can walk?”

River took hold of my hand. “Don’t panic. I told you that healing is not linear.” He held my hand in both of his. His touch was cool, but how I craved it. I clutched back as much as I could.

“I need you to be patient, Ms. Kairaki. Do that for me, and I promise, you’ll be up and about. You’re not leaving this ship until I give the word.” 

I took a deep breath, letting it fill my chest until it ached. I reminded myself of my son, of how horrible healing after his birth was, but how worth it all that had been. My son, who could be dead by now. He would have woken up fifty years ago. Did he miss me? Did he forget me? 

No.

 I can’t think that way. It hurts, and more than my heart. My head begins to actually ache as I conjure up more memories of him.

River releases my hands. “Try the soup this time. I think you will enjoy it better than the apples.”

River watches intently as I fill the hollow of the spoon and carefully bring it to my mouth achingly slowly. I placed it in my mouth without hesitation. The heat is so much! But I did it.

“Careful.” River held up the glass of cold water, directing the straw to my mouth.

I drink deeply, but I am very proud of myself. “Do you think I’ll be able to hold a paintbrush?”

There was that faint appearance of a smile. “You will. You will need to build up strength, of course. This was a test of what I need to prepare for you.” His eyes are darting back and forth as if reading something before him. 

I went in for another bite, taking a moment to blow on the spoon. “It was always a hope of mine that my work would outlast me.” I say, my voiced tinged in melancholy. “But I suppose that gives me reason to paint even more than before.”

River’s eyes become still, and he looks at me again. “On the contrary.” He waved away the floating screens and stepped closer. “The works of Irini Kairaki are of chief value. Scholars have studied them as part of the master’s collection for the past thirty years.”

I dropped the spoon in my lap again. “You’re joking.” I blinked a few times to make sure I had heard that right. “My art?”

“I am not a comedian, Ms. Kairaki. Would you like to see?” He stood, sweeping up a holographic screen beside the bed. He brought up a news article about one of my pieces finding permanent-residence in the Louvre. Another article about one unfinished painting selling for millions at auction.

“We had to research you in order to find living relatives. Imagine our surprise when we found you were a lost master.” River was scrolling slowly through the options on the screen. For me, though, it was a whirlwind turning into a storm. Faster, faster, faster.

The ache in my head from before was growing, and I reeled back away from the screen, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Doc-”

The screen blinked away, and he returned to my side, placing his hand on the back of my neck. “It’s just part of the cryo syndrome. Nothing to worry about.”

I had tears pooling in my eyes. “Even memories hurt?”

River was quiet.

I looked up at him, but the light was too bright and I had to turn away immediately. “Do you know where my son is?”

River’s hand hovered somewhere between calling up a screen and reaching out to me. “I don’t want to cause you more duress, Ms. Kairaki.”

The tears flowed freely then. I wrapped my arms around myself as I sagged over. I sobbed, missing my life, my work, my home. Why did I ever agree to that move with Cal? I sure hope he’s dead. I would be more comfortable in his pod, he said. He knew. He was protecting himself. Women and children first. He knew.

“Ms. Kairaki, if it is of any comfort, your son is still alive.” River offered me that morsel of comfort.

I cried even harder. He didn’t move. He seemed uncertain how to comfort me, to react. It was like a glitch to his system.

“Jude!” It was all I could think to sob. “Jude! Jude!”

River’s cool hand touched my back, rubbing slow and soft.

I must have cried myself to sleep, because I woke up in my usual room again. The lights were down and River had turned on babbling water sounds with a projection of a forest from home upon the wall.

“Darn,” I muttered to myself after a deep sigh. I laid there in bed, pressing my knuckles to my mouth. I had so much more I wanted to ask River.

Jude was alive. I could use that to strengthen myself, and I could see him again.

I could hold him.

But how old was he? Certainly much older than me at this point. Was he an old man? Did I have grandchildren? My eyes welled up with tears again, and I stopped myself.

“I can’t handle another headache,” I breathed. “Think of other things. Other things.” The cool touch of River’s hands holding mine first came to my mind. I smiled softly, thinking of his attempt at a joke.

“Damn, I am a fool, aren’t I? Always falling for these types.” I pouted, closing my eyes, and a few tears spilled down my cheeks. “First Cal, that bastard,” I grumbled. “He abandoned me. Tricked me.” I snarled, gnashing my teeth. “Everyone else knew, but I didn’t.” My eyes focused on the nature scene before me. The trees. The grass. The babbling brook.

We had a child together. And while his family saw me as nothing more than a gold digger, they were the ones who insisted we get married so they could save face. What else was I supposed to do? Not marry him, duh. But he had money, influence, everything I never did, and I wanted Jude to have everything I never did.

“Piece of shit.” I hissed quietly. “Hope he’s rotting.” Wherever he was, maybe now I had the upper hand. My art was famous. I was a lost master. How is that supposed to feel? Am I rich now? Or am I even more destitute than before?

“Jude and painting. Jude and painting,” I muttered over and over to myself. “That’s what you have. You don’t have nothing. You have something.” I breathed in deep. I would work my hardest with Dr. River so I could have both in my life again. At least I had Dr. River. Even if I couldn’t see Jude yet or hold a paintbrush, I had him. 

My heart skipped a beat.

“Falling for another one, you idiot.” I gave in to it long ago. I’m not pretending to be anything else now. Not after all these years.

River cleared me to be moved around sickbay. My immune system would be strong enough, so I didn’t have to be tucked away in my room alone. The hospital wing of the ship had an area for patients still convalescing. There was an area for games, for movies, even one for crafts. The best part of all was that I could talk to other people! So far, since waking up, my only connecting to the outside world was the good doctor and a handful of nurses.

My first day out and I was shaking from how excited I was. My immune system may have been operational. I was still weak enough that even the littlest excitement made my body jitter about like mad! But I was so happy!

I glimpsed myself passing by the exercise and physical therapy room. The large mirrored wall showed me in my chair, smaller than I remembered. Wrists tiny, face gaunt, my curls were no longer lustrous and full, but dry and crisp in a way.

I rolled into the room to get a closer look at this stranger. The closer I got, the more I saw myself, but also none of myself. My freckles I loved faded to almost nothing. The glowing amber of my skin was now a dingy beige. My eyes had sunken, their usual golden brown were almost black. 

“Oh, my-” I whispered, touching myself to make sure the reflection followed. My hand slipped down around my throat, down my chest. My breasts had been full and slightly sloped since giving birth, a look I thought sensual. Now? I doubt I’d fill my palm! 

I was aware if I looked beneath my clothes, I might see the faint scarring I got when pregnant. But I would see the full hips and soft belly that came with it. I had loved my body before I had gone into cryo, not without trying, of course. Cal would make his comments, but I saw what artistry my body was.

Now what was I?

“It’s the century egg!” A woman in a wheelchair rolled up beside me. She had a heavy, cooling compress around her thighs, and a cooling blanket draped against the rest of her lap. “Everyone has been talking about you hatching.”

It took me a moment to recover, to snap out of my thoughts of seeing myself for the first time in so long. 

I may have blinked a few too many times as I attempted a smile. “What’s that?” This was my first conversation outside the sick bay. I didn’t want to mess this up!

“Sorry,” she laughed, her bright yellow eyes sparkled. “That’s what we’ve been calling you down here in recovery. A century egg.” She was a Kassian. Her features were cat-like and slick, with sharp ears that twitched as she smiled. Her fur was deep orange, streaked with black around her eyes and neck.

“We’ve all been so curious about you. Although, I don’t think Doc quite appreciated us calling you that.” Like most Kassians, she gestured grandly. I noticed her finger tips had spongy pads of pink and black.

The first soul outside of sleep who wasn’t a medical professional at that! I was trying so hard not to show my joy, but the tears were welling up as I opened my mouth to speak again. “He told me he is not a comedian.”

The Kassian adjusted herself and her legs wiggled slightly. “Yeah, well, most androids don’t have a sense of humor.”

That word struck me. Android? Who was she talking about? The good doctor? No. There must be something else I haven’t caught on to.

My expression must have given it away because the Kassian’s ears stood up straight and her lips shaped themselves into a perfect O. “You didn’t know!”

“I’ve been away for half a century,” I tried to laugh it off. “Back in my day, Androids weren’t so…”

Her brows raised. “Human?”

I noticed a young, blonde officer walk through the room, arm in a cast. He sat near us, eyes flicking towards us whenever we mentioned the doctor. 

“Yes,” I murmured. Something made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

“You know how time is, Egg. It changes!” she chuckled. “Oh, I’m Alina.” She bowed her head down to be pet, a Kassian greeting. “I’m usually a security officer on this ship, but right now, I’m working as a patient.” 

I bowed my head to match her greeting, nuzzling the top of my head against hers. “My name is Irini, but you can call me Egg if you like.” I had many nicknames in my life, but by far, this one was my favorite.

“And you can call me Legs! Although I’m not as keen on it as you.” Her small nose twitched. She then patted her lap and smoothed out the weighted blanket. “Dr. River had to replace them.” She pulled up the edge of the blanket just enough to show her mechanical feet.

I gasped out loud, shocked by what seemed such a horrible accident. “What happened?”

She held a knowing smirk, one that caused her eyes to squint mischievously. “Got old.” She wiggled her mechanical toes. “I have to replace them at least every then years. Upgrades and new tech and all that.” She waved her palm around like casting a spell.

I let out a sigh of relief. “You had me for a second!”

Alina threw her fluffy head back in laughter, causing glances from around the room. “I’ve had cybernetic legs most of my life, Egg! Dr. River is the only one I trust doing the surgery for my replacements. Guess it’s a good thing we work on the same ship.” Her mouth down-turned and her ears flicked back. “Some don’t trust an android like him.”

It seemed odd that anyone would mistrust Dr. River, but I also couldn’t play naïve to the very common practice of prejudice. “I didn’t even know he was. I’m amazed by what androids have advanced to. In my time, they were just being allowed menial jobs. They ran cash registers, phones, nothing as complicated and detailed as a doctor.”

I locked eyes with that blonde officer again. I jerked my attention back to Alina. Something about his gaze didn’t settle right with me.

“Dr. River is one of a kind.” Alina was still looking directly into my eyes. Kassians rarely broke eye contact. “First of his kind, actually.”

I met her gaze directly as well. Back in school I had boarded with a Kassian. “How so?”

There was a flick to her ears as she took in my matched gaze. “It ain’t my story to tell, Egg. You’ll have to ask him one day. He’s nothing but honest. A real open book once you get to know him!”

The blonde man stood up, shuffling out of the room as if Alina had just said something offensive.

“But what about you, Egg?” Alina asked excitedly, not paying attention to anything else in the room. “Tell me about yourself.”

It was hard to talk about myself, not because I was shy or anything, but because the Cryo Syndrome affected my memory. Some things were so faint and far away, other things were so strong and vivid that elicited strong, overpowering emotions. 

I fussed with the blanket in my lap for a moment. “Well, not sure where to start. But um…guess you could say I’m confused, lost, but eager to live again.”

She grinned, showing off her sharp teeth. “That’s what we call a kitten’s intuition.”

I was always good at making friends, so chatting with Alina was like exercising to get that groove back. “My roommate back in college who used to say ‘whisker of an incident’. I always liked that saying.” 

Her eyes lit up again, the orange taken over by the dark black of her pupil. “Where did you go to school?”

“Lustre Academy of the Fine Arts,” I replied. “Although that is so long ago. I don’t even know if it is still up and running.”

Her ears perked up. “We can look.” She tapped her watch and a small screen popped up. She began typing, and I saw my old school appear. “It’s still open. See?” She turned the screen so I could read the page.

“That’s wonderful,” I murmured. I wasn’t sure where to place my emotions.

Smirking, Alina leaned close to me. “I bet we could pull up your student records.”

That made me so afraid. I had nothing to hide, and yet, reading of my past felt impossible to comprehend.

“You okay Egg?” Alina murmured.

I forced a smile. “Yes. But-” my voice faded out as the picture of my old school stared back at me. “I’m not exactly sure where my mind is.”

Her ears fell flat. “It has been a long time for you. Who knows what bad news you would see? I get it.” Her ears flicked back up and her smile was warm.

Fifty years in a long time, many of my friends and teachers were probably long gone. I had also wanted to teach there, but Cal wanted me to stay home with Jude. There were so many wonderful memories attached to that school. Those memories could also be a lot for me to process. Even the best of memories could turn sour in my predicament.

“What about you?” I asked Alina. “Did you go to the Dawn Fleet Academy?”

Her nod was exuberant, and her tail swished back and forth. “I actually got my recommendation from our former captain. He sponsored my enrollment.” She wiggled her lap. “The board thought I would be a danger because of these.”

My brows pinched in disgust. “Cybernetic limbs have existed as long as Dawn Fleet. Are they still calling them unfair advantages?”

“Oh that’s right!” her ears fluffed up. “You would have been in cryo when this happened!” She leaned in closer to me. “For a while, the academy wouldn’t accept anyone with cybernetic enhancements. They were completely banned

I furrowed my brow even more at her. “What? Why?”

“I’ve heard several stories,” she sighed. “That it was a terrorist attack by cyborg soldiers. A former student was taking revenge for being expelled. Everyone kind of has their own rumor about it at this point. It was horrible enough to get people like me banned for decades, that’s for certain.”

“Oh my gosh,” I whispered.

She nodded slowly. “I wanted to attend Dan Fleet so bad. I used to wish that they would suspend the rule. And, hey! My wish came true!” She broke into a big, toothy grin. They got rid of it after thirty years.”

“That’s a long time to hold such a rule!”

Her ears flicked back and forth. “Well, the president of the board at the time had a child who died during it. So when she left, they got rid of it.”

I thought about what I would do if anything ever happened to Jude like that. “I understand her pain. But I wouldn’t hold it against everyone.”

Alina grasped hold of my hand and squeezed tight. “I’ll take that as a compliment!”

I held her hand back, enjoying the touch of her palm and the warmth it radiated. I could have almost cried. My years alone left me unconsciously starving for touch and affection.

“When Doc allows me to walk on my own, I’ll show you around.” Alina didn’t let go of my hand as she went on and on about the ship. The Phoebe, from her description, sounded like a child’s playground. Then again, that’s sort of how Kassian’s looked at the world.

I held her hand back, enjoying the touch of her palm and the warmth it radiated. I could have almost cried. My years alone left me unconsciously starving for touch and affection.

At one point, she stopped mid sentence and looked up with wide eyes. “Doc!”

I turned, watching Dr. River enter. “Alina,” he answered with a bow of his head. “How is your recovery?”

“Great, as always. I’ve been keeping Egg company.”

His Purple eyes fell upon me, and my smile turned shy. “I see. Well, I’m here to show Ms. Kairaki to her new quarters. I hope I am not interrupting.”

“Not at all.” Alina's smile returned to me. “We’ll talk later, Egg.” She leaned into me with her forehead.

I let her head bump against mine, even forcing back a little. “I’ll look forward to it, Alina.”

River took hold of the wheelchair, nodding to Alina before turning me around. “You look tired,” he said once we were out of reach. “I hope Alina didn’t tire you out.”

I nodded, letting out a yawn I had been holding in. “I am. But I needed that so much. I really enjoyed her company.”

“I'm happy to hear that, Ms. Kairaki.” He replied coolly. “You have a civilian cabin all set up. I’ve also set you up with twenty-four access to call me.”

An entire room to myself? I wouldn’t know what to do with it! “That’s wonderful. Thank you. It will be nice to have some extra room.”

“I still want you to come to the medical bay every day for observation, of course.” River rolled me into a lift, then stood beside me. “I think it will be good for your recovery to have a routine you maintain on your own.”

I noticed he was holding a bag in one hand. It looked to be a heavy load. “I’ll be starting from nothing. But I’ve done that before.”

The lift stopped, opening to a short hallway with four doors on each side. River took me to the first on the right. “This will be your new place for the time being.” He wheeled me in, parking me at a table. I saw that the counters and cabinets were wheelchair accessible. The walls were soft yellow, while the cabinets and counter were this powdery blue. River stole my attention as he set the bag on the table.

“I brought a gift for you,” River said to me. His expression was unchanged, but there was a shadow of a smile to him.

“I was wondering what you were carrying.” I sat up straight in my chair. “You didn’t have to get me anything. I already owe you so much.”

“It’s my job. You owe me nothing, Ms. Kairaki.” He began laying items out on the table. “I suppose it can also be called therapy, but I prefer to think of it as a gift.” He laid out paint brushes, tubes of paints, and small canvases. He kept pulling out art supplies. My heart was hammering.

“I did some research to find materials similar to the ones you used before.” River replied as tears came to my eyes. “I’m afraid some paints you used are no longer made, as the company went under. I found a similar formula from a newer company.”

River had taken my breath away. Never had I gone so deep into studying paint formulas. I used the brand my mother did, which was cheap. The only time I ever had access to fancy paints as gifts or at Lustre. “You researched the formulas?”

River gave a few small nods. “It was quite simple. Compared to finding the brushes, at least.”

I took a packet of brushes into my hands and exclaimed with glee. “They still make the Monastery brand!” I had never been so excited to see something so familiar and commonplace in my life. “How did you know these are my favorites?”

He focused his eyes on me, but quickly looked away to grab a sketchbook and colored pencils. “I studied old pictures of you. It took a few tries, but I compared brands and models to the ones from your scholarship documentary.”

I don’t know if I should feel horrified or flattered. That documentary was humiliating to make. I couldn’t imagine how awful it was now. “How in the stars did you get that? I didn’t think they would keep such things!”

Dare I say the usually aloof doctor looked smug? His expressions were minimal, even nonexistent I’m sure, but after spending so much time with him, perhaps I was seeing what lay underneath the pure white of his face.

“You are a famous artist now; fame reveals everything about a person.”

My stomach was churning at the thought of some things being yanked unwillingly into the light. There were things I did in college I had prayed would stay hidden gems forever. There were portraits painted of me, artsy photographs, terrible short stories and letters.

“I hope not…everything,” I groaned with my face in my hands.

“Most things.” River looked into the box, bringing out a book. “I must confess, I studied your works in the academy. My roommate was a big fan of yours and he convinced me to help him locate some of your lost works.” He slid the book towards me.

The book featured my face framed by one of my watercolor pieces. Below the grand title of ‘The Works of Irini Kairaki’ was another familiar name. “Written by Jude Tototi-” My voice stuck in my throat like dry bread. “You knew my son?” My hands trembled as I looked over his name again. And again. And again.

“I did.” His eyes lowered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you until now.”

I kept the precious tome clenched tightly in my weak little fists. Opening up the book, I landed on a picture of me and my son when I first brought him home. Although he was so small, thick, dark curls crowned his head. I looked exhausted, but beyond happy. It was as if nothing else in the world existed but the two of us.

“I’ll find you in this world. My love is with you, Mom.”

I couldn’t breathe. My baby, he was alive! He was thriving even!

“Where is he?” I whispered.

You can read the rest here:

“Hello little Dendärys, come inside and play. I can’t wait to taste you.”

There was a Sparkle Boy hanging out of a Cozy’s window, gold hair glittering and cheeks shining. Next to him, another sinuous and limbless Alternative model—for the universe’s more exotic species or the very adventurous— coiled itself over his back, undulating at me in invitation. I almost leapt on top of them both, but it would cost me my entire ship to steal even one heatburn with one of the luxury models, let alone the days or weeks of the full cycle.

“Is this the Droid district?” I rasped, trying not to rub myself on the window frame.

“I hear Dendärys can come for hours, pretty cub,” the Sparkle cooed, lips nearly falling onto mine.

I hissed and yanked myself away before I ended up indebted to a Cozy house I couldn’t pay.

He sighed and pouted, drawing back, as the Alternative took off in search of a more likely client. “Yeah, and if you want to find your kind you’re on the wrong end of town.”

“Where’s the cheapest place in the district?” I needed to stretch my units as far as they could take me.

He sniffed and rolled his eyes, and I thought he might leave me to wander around alone again. “Three gates down,” he said, flat and bored if I wasn’t going to offer to share my heat burn with him. “Bunch of broken parts and good luck with them.”

You opened your mouth to protest—you didn’t want to be a bother, and Markus wasn’t exactly built for strolls in the rain—but Carl spoke up before you could.

“Go,” he said, waving a hand. “The night is dark and Markus could use the fresh air.”

Androids didn’t need air. But Markus still inclined his head respectfully.

“Thank you, Carl.”

Carl smiled—one of those small, knowing, fatherly smiles he reserved for moments he found important.

Moments he didn’t want Markus to miss.

Outside, the rain was gentle but persistent.

Markus stepped ahead of you long enough to unfurl an umbrella—Carl’s umbrella, classic and worn but steady. He held it above both of you, adjusting slightly so the edge covered more of your side than his own.

You noticed.

“Markus, you don’t have to—”

“You’ll get soaked,” he said simply.

“And you won’t?”

“I don’t mind.”

You laughed softly. “Of course you don’t.”

But he tilted his head, and there was something… searching in the way he looked at you.

“Is it strange?” Markus asked. “That I want to do this anyway?”

Your breath caught.

You weren’t sure how to answer that.

So you walked.

Side by side, your footsteps echoing in the quiet street. The umbrella created a small, intimate world between you—just the hush of rain and Markus’ careful presence beside you.

A block later, you spoke first.

“You know… you’re allowed to enjoy this.”

Markus glanced down at you. “Enjoy?”

“The rain. The walk. The company.”

His LED flickered yellow.

“I’m not sure I’m meant to,” he admitted. “But I… notice things when I’m with you.”

“Like what?”

He hesitated—something he rarely did.

“The way your breathing changes when you’re cold. How your smile looks different when you’re trying not to laugh. How you pause before you touch the piano keys, even if you know the song perfectly.” A beat. “And how being near you feels… different.”

You slowed to a stop, the rain tapping softly on the umbrella.

“Different how?”

Markus stared straight ahead, as if afraid to look at you.

“I don’t know. That’s what frightens me.”

“Frightens you?” you echoed.

He turned to you then, eyes dark and earnest.

“I keep wondering if this is… a glitch. A deviation. If I’m misinterpreting data. If I’m forming patterns that aren’t supposed to be there.” His voice drifted lower. “Or if this is what Carl means when he says I’m more than what I was made to be.”

Your heart tightened.

“Markus… you’re not misinterpreting anything.”

His LED pulsed amber, almost troubled.

“You say that so confidently,” he whispered.

“Because I see it too.”

The moment stretched—quiet, fragile.

A car passed in the distance, tires hissing on wet pavement. Somewhere a streetlight buzzed faintly.

And then, in a motion so subtle you barely felt it at first, Markus shifted the umbrella to one hand—

—and let his free hand brush yours.

A feather-light touch. Tentative. Testing.

You didn’t pull away.

He noticed. And he froze.

Not like an android halting. But like a person who was terrified to misstep.

“Is this…” he murmured, glancing down at your intertwined fingers—still only barely touching— “…okay?”

You slid your hand fully into his.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “It’s okay.”

His fingers closed around yours slowly, as if he was afraid too much pressure might break the illusion.

Or break him.

When you reached your building, Markus lingered.

Rain pooled around your doorstep, and the umbrella shook slightly in the breeze. But neither of you moved.

“Markus?” you whispered.

“Yes?”

“Tonight… did something change for you?”

He searched your face with unreadable eyes—android precision mixed with something human in its softness.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But I want to understand it.”

You swallowed.

“And Carl?” you asked. “What would he say?”

A small smile tugged at Markus’ lips—a rare and gentle thing.

“He’d say,” Markus murmured, voice low and warm, “that whatever this is… I should let it.”

You felt your breath catch.

“And do you want to?”

Markus stepped closer, the umbrella dipping with him, bringing your faces inches apart.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I want to see you again tomorrow.”

Your pulse jumped.

“I’ll be there.”

Something like relief washed over his features—so human it made your chest ache.

He released your hand last—slowly, reluctantly—before stepping back into the rain and lowering the umbrella.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight, Markus.”

You watched him until he disappeared around the corner.

You swore—just for a moment—you saw him touch his chest.