#character short

OS-R-311 was unlike any model she'd seen before. Most androids were built with function in mind, shaping the body to purpose. But this android was a showcase, every joint and bit of metal polished and beautiful. She stood with authority, golden mechanical eyes studying her from across the desk.

“You may refer to me as Overseer 311 or simply Overseer,” the android said, straightening her dark gray suit as she sat down. “And you must be-”

“-Himari. People just call me Himari, ma'am,” she said with a smile. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

Overseer 311 smiled as she leaned back in her chair, tapping the link in her temple. A pair of drones whirred to life at her command, orbiting them both with a dull hum.

Her office didn't feel like something that belonged in a factory. It was more like an art gallery, with glass cases and projection panels lining the walls. Every case held a display - skeletons, musculature, and nerves rendered in ivory plastic; standing out against the white, golden circuits and machinery were woven into the displays. But the case behind the Overseer - a towering wall of glass - was the most eye-catching. Clean and polished cybernetics hung suspended within, arranged into a human figure, the mechanics of the android body laid bare.

“Now then, Miss Himari, your record is certainly an impressive one,” Overseer 311 mused, eyes flickering as the projection panel in her desk ignited.

A wall of projected light rose between them, the records of Himari's entire life laid out like the display.

She sorted through Himari’s history with a single gesture, “Full member of the medical union for five years, with licenses in cybernetics as well as mechatronics. A rather eclectic work history.”

“Mechs were the family business, ma'am,” Himari said, leaning forward with a smile. “I’ve learned the trade since I was small.”

“And yet you chose to study medicine.”

“That I did.”

“So, why then do you wish to work for us? Biorobotics is a challenging field.”

“Honestly?” she looked past the Overseer, her gaze tracing the fine circuits and servos that glimmered in the light. “Hoping to be a designer one day.”

The Overseer walked around the front of her desk, watching the smaller woman through the eyes of the drones, “Ambitious, miss Himari. But it takes more than ambition to design models for us.”

Himari rose to her feet, standing firm despite how the android towered over her, “I'm aware. I'm prepared to do the work, to earn that title.”

“So you are,” Overseer 311 said, the doors to the factory sliding open with a mere wave of her hand.

Himari had done her research on how androids were made. And still, the scale of the factory astounded her. All around the factory floor were bays of assembly tanks, androids of varying stages floating in bio-polymer fluid. The air was filled with the hum of life support, countless machines working tirelessly to bring the androids to life.

Moving about on the factory floor were the caretakers, going from tank to tank, keeping a watchful eye on their patients.

“You'll be joining a crew of caretakers for one of our batches,” Overseer 311 said, her drones flanking close to Himari on either side. “You understand the length of your contract?”

“Three years,” Himari said, fighting back a grin as she watched robotic limbs go to work inside the tanks.

“Very good. Your job is to monitor the construction and development of the batch. Once they are online, you are to help assess before they are shipped.”

Himari bit her cheek in thought as she followed the Overseer, curiosity burning in her mind.

"Ma'am, if I may-" Overseer 311 paused at the door to another chamber within the factory, golden eyes glinting with curiosity. "-I... I've never seen a model like you. I mean, support androids have wireless uplinks, sure. But I've never seen... You're fully integrated! Sharing senses across multiple systems, directing them at a whim."

She tilted her head as her two drones circled her in a slow orbit, “Miss Himari, understand that my model is proprietary to this facility. I am designed to assist and oversee the staff from anywhere in this factory.” she stepped so close that Himari had to stare up at her to meet those golden eyes, “Does this satisfy your curiosity…?”

“Incredible,” she whispered as she stumbled back. “Your designer, your caretakers, they must be proud. I know I would be.”

The Overseer pulled back, a curious look on her face, “I… I like to think they are.” she beckoned Himari into the chamber beyond, lit at first by the many monitors within, “Now then, we still need to create your imprint.”

The chamber lit up once they were inside, the noise of the factory floor vanishing as the door hissed shut. Code rippled and streamed over the monitors mounted on the walls. Images - memories - flickered from the projection panels built into the consoles that dominated the room.

“I-I've never heard of an imprint,” Himari said, watching the dream-like memory of an android learning their first word.

“Despite the circuitry incorporated within, android brains still behave much like a human’s. And so they require a human touch,” Overseer 311 led Himari into a glass booth at the center of the room. “As part of their basic programming, we imprint them onto their caretakers. This protects the health of the batch and ensures they will recognize and trust you.”

With a wave of her hand, the Overseer made the rest of the chamber vanish. The projectors within the booth enveloped everything in light, before resolving into the image of a dormitory. Trees were scattered about the strangely peaceful space, and light panels provided simulated sun from overhead.

This–It had to be another part of the factory. Somewhere for the androids. Maybe the workers too?

“All you have to do is interact with me,” she said, moving Himari across from her.

“With you…?”

The Overseer’s gaze flicked to the side, a prompt window projecting just above her head, “You have a script, Miss Himari. Follow it and you’ll be fine.”

Himari looked at her hands, uncertainty weighing heavy in her chest.

Was it really that simple? Just a few words and they’d just trust her?

Overseer 311 took her by the hands as she spoke, drawing her attention, “It is a simple call and response. Talk to me as you would a patient, Miss Himari.”

She took a breath and closed her eyes, centering herself.

Focus on the job…

She shook her head and went to work, striding along the aisle of assembly tanks she’d been assigned.

The floor boss walked alongside her, hardly even glancing at her, “We usually test newbies on a single model batch. But you’ll be working with us on what the suits call a ‘Multi-Service Batch’.” he chuckled - more to himself than her - and leaned against one of the tanks as Himari took her time to examine the tank’s readouts, “I wouldn’t have put a newbie on an assortment like this, but you got dropped on me from on high.”

“So…” she did her best to ignore his dismissive tone as she focused on the work. “What models are we working with?”

Her boss just raised a brow and jabbed a thumb to the tanks behind him, “No better way to get the hang of things than to check it yourself, newbie.”

“Stop calling me that,” she muttered, keeping her voice even as she went to check the readouts on the next tank. “I have a name–”

“Well, hold onto that for next year, if you’re still here by then,” her boss lightly punched her shoulder, walking off across the bay. “For now, you better get a move on, newbie!”

“Son of a…!” Himari grit her teeth, rubbing her shoulder with a frustrated growl, and turned back to the tank.

She buried herself in her work, moving along with her fellow caretakers. She studied the readouts of each tank, noting down the models as she went. They were working a batch of fifty, half of them were all industrial models. The rest were slated for security and emergency rescue. 

She couldn’t help but smile at the golden-haired android floating in the tank in front of her, laying a hand on the glass. 

They were still in their infancy, but already she could see what they’d be in the future. She could almost picture it, the android’s figure stepping through fire and smoke to rescue a survivor.

“You’re gonna save people someday,” she mused to herself with a proud smile. “Let’s get you there, hmm?”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” one of her fellow caretakers said, leaning against the neighboring tank.

“Wouldn't do what exactly, Mr…?”

“Samuels,” he said with a gentle smile. “You don’t wanna get too attached at the beginning. Odds are we’re gonna lose a few.”

“Wha–” Himari blinked, confusion and disbelief settling in as she looked back at the tank and the sleeping android inside. “I thought they would have–”

“Fixed it? Look… There’s always gonna be mistakes that show up. Sometimes there’s just something wrong with the template, some flaw in the cloning process. Don’t take it too personally when you lose your first one.”

“I’m not… Isn’t there anything we can…?”

“We all lose one eventually… We can help, sometimes. But others… They’re just broken from the start,” he said with a shrug. “But it could be worse. I had a whole batch fail once, genetic errors,” he chuckled and shook his head, but he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice. “Someone up in the labs got fired over that, I’m sure.”

“You don’t know?” Himari asked, clenching her fists tight at her sides.

“You’ll get used to it. They don’t tell us anything other than what they have to.”

She went to the next tank over by Samuels, her hands aching from how tight she’d been holding them.

Just focus on the job. That’s all she had to do. 

She closed her eyes, took a shaking breath, and got back to work.

She would fix it, she just had to get higher up the ladder first.

“Hey,” Samuels laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile. “Don’t think you’re alone in this. This whole crew’s gonna have three whole years to get to know each other. So, lean on us. Okay, newbie?”

“I’m not–” Himari bit her cheek, speaking softer as she looked at him. “My name’s Himari…”

“Himari,” he hummed, nodding along as he moved on to the next tank in his lineup. “Like the sound of it.”

She smiled to herself a little as she worked, watching the android’s projected growth on the tank monitor.

Maybe three years wouldn’t be so bad…

The years passed, the work continued, and Himari watched them all grow before her eyes. Each had the same face, the same genetic template. And yet she quietly named a few - under her breath - when no one else could hear.

She could see how different they would be. It wasn’t how they were built, the way the cybernetics shaped them. It was in the way that they moved. How they stirred in their three-year-long sleep, every little expression that flitted across their faces as they dreamed.

“Okay…” she hummed to the android inside the tank, smiling at them as if they could see her, hear her. “Looks like your construct download is going just fine. Polymer circuits are integrating and cybernetics…” she idly tapped the console screen, watching as mechanical fingers curled and flexed at her instruction, “Okay, cybernetics are operational. Half a year and you should be moving around just fine.”

“How are our patients?” Samuels called out from down the aisle.

“They’re in the green, developing on time,” she called back. “I’m looking forward to meeting ‘em!”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he moved across the bay to check on the rest of the tanks, “Aren’t we all, Himari. Aren’t we all…”

“Look alive everybody!” the floor boss barked out, stomping along the bays as the assembly tanks finally began to drain. “Three years of work! Let’s make it across the finish line!”

The androids began to stir for the first time, eyes fluttering as they started to come online. Some choked and sputtered as the fluid drained below their faces, their first breaths in a new world.

“Himari,” the floor boss called out, his attention more on the androids than her. “What have we got?”

Himari tried to keep her hands steady, fumbling with the panel as she checked the readouts of the tanks, “Forty-six coming online. Vitals are holding… They’re no longer on life support!”

The tension broke as a cheer cascaded up and down the bays, the excitement of the moment numbing the ache that sat in Himari’s chest.

They’d lost four…

The tanks lowered to the floor and slowly began to open. At first, many only leaned against the supports, coughing and gasping as they breathed for the first time. But one by one the androids began to step out, their caretakers at the ready for those that stumbled. Himari quickly steadied the one closest to her as they emerged, holding them up.

They looked to her as they held her arm and all she could do was smile, small and proud, “Welcome to the world.”

Even after the month they’d spent running them through their paces, Himari couldn’t help but watch as the first airships were loaded up. They’d be heading off soon to deliver the androids - their androids - to wherever they were needed.

“Do you ever think to check?” she asked softly, looking out towards the sunset as it painted the open sky.

“Think to check what?” Samuels asked with an exhausted shrug.

“On the androids,” she said, nudging his shoulder with a small smile. “Ya know, after they’re rolled out.”

What had been a smile slowly fell as Samuels looked at the horizon, “Don’t…”

“What? I’m just curious.”

“And I'm telling you, don’t. Company doesn’t pay us to make house calls. Nor do they want them.”

“I…” Himari shook her head, thumping her fist on the docking bay floor. “Don’t you wonder?”

Samuels sighed and ran a hand over his face, giving her a tired smile, “Of course I did, when I first started…”

She frowned in thought as she stared at him, “What happened?”

“Got over it,” he said, but she didn’t think he believed it either. The look on his face was too worn, too hurt, “You see enough batches, the novelty wears off. You get used to it.”

She… She didn’t know what to say. And she tried. She tried to think of something. But, whatever she thought of she knew he’d already heard it, already said it himself once…

She hated the quiet pity on his face as he smiled and lied to her face, “They’re just numbers, ‘Mari. Sooner you get used to it, the easier the job gets…”

It felt like a lifetime since they’d talked on that docking bay floor. In some ways it was. A lifetime of mistakes…

Himari rolled her shoulders, wincing as she strode through the workshop. Sunlight poured in through the skylight above, so much warmer than the cold lights of the factory. Even the machinery felt warmer, well worn with use and care.

It was home, plain and simple.

She called out, racing up the steps to the common room and into their little makeshift infirmary off on the side, “Alright! Let’s help get our guest patched–”

She froze, staring at the android on her table, their body covered with burns and scars across their skin.

It had been years, but she knew that face. She’d watched them grow up before her eyes after all…

They were hurt - blood and polymer leaking through cracks in their cybernetics, and still, they smiled when they saw her, “Hello… H-Hello again - miss Himari.”

“You… You remember me?” Himari shook her head, quickly getting to work as she checked their injuries. “L-Let’s get you patched up…”

“Miss Himari?” her heart ached at the sound of their voice, like they didn’t blame her at all, like they still trusted her after all this time.

“Y-Yes?”

“It’s good to see you again, miss,” they said with a smile that made her resolve crack.

She shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help but smile back, her voice shaking, “It’s good to finally see you again too.”

They winced and clutched their shoulder as a short surged through the circuits and nerves in their arm. Worry twisted in Himari’s gut as she looked over the cybernetic limb with care.

“Will I… Will I be okay?”

“Everything will be alright,” she whispered, more to herself than them.

And yet- “Now that you’re here…” -that half-remembered phrase echoed back at her, made her stare at them.

She cradled their face in her hands, brushing their golden hair like a child she’d lost and found again.

She wasn’t their caretaker anymore. Maybe she should never have been. They’d deserved better than her youthful ambitions, better than the burden she’d helped make them for. And yet-

“I mean it,” she said, soft and desperate. They had to know she meant it, that it was more than just the imprint, “You’re safe here and I… I-I’ll help you, I promise.”

-she was proud. Damn her heart, she was proud to see them still standing, to see this life she’d made still here. They had done so much to help people, that much she was sure. Now, it was her turn.