The Little Android

Part Two

Two days passed before Mech6.0 was given a new assignment, along with fourteen of her fellow mech-droids. She stood in line with the others as Tam Sovann, the shipyard’s owner, paced around the project’s underside, inspecting the landing gear and discussing the plans with their new client, Ochida Kenji. Ochida-shìfu was a middle-aged man with a little facial hair and a very expensive-looking suit. His ship was a recreational yacht, luxurious and spacious enough for those who could afford luxury and space. Mech6.0 scanned the ship while she waited to receive her instructions, plugging the information into her database. A 94 T.E. Orion Classic, one of the most expensive ships of its day and one of the most popular for refurbishing over the past decade. The name Child of the Stars had been painted near its nose, but had faded with time.

“The body is in good shape, Ochida-shìfu,” said Tam, “but we’re looking at a full-engine rebuild to bring it up to code, and remodeling the interior to include all the most modern amenities will require that we take it down to the paneling. I am confident we can meet your deadline, though, while maintaining the ship’s original character.”

“Your reputation speaks for itself,” said Ochida Kenji. “I have no doubt she’s in good hands.”

“Excellent. Let me introduce you to the engineer who will be heading up your rebuild. This is Wing Dataran, one of our brightest stars.”

Like a programmed reflex, Mech6.0’s sensor swiveled toward the group. Though Wing Dataran had been working at the shipyard for almost a year, their paths had never crossed. The Triton had been much too big, and she had never been assigned to any of his smaller projects.

But she had known about him. She had connected him to the net database the first time she’d seen him—as she did with all of her human employers—but something about him had kept that profile in the forefront of her memory. A young hardware engineer, he had been hired straight out of tech-university where he had specialized in spaceship engines with extracurricular work in internal design and mechanical systems.

For reasons that didn’t fully compute, she frequently found her sensor seeking him out in the crowd of androids and technicians, and every time she spotted him, her fan did that strange little jump like it had when she’d seen the holograph. Only now did she realize that there were similarities between Dataran and the holographic figure. All humans were similar, with their two eyes and protruding noses and five-fingered, fleshy hands. But Dataran and the boy in the holograph both had pronounced cheekbones and slender frames that suggested a particular grace. And they had both made her fan sputter.

What did that mean?

Dataran unclipped a portscreen from his tool belt after they’d finished their introductions. “I’ve already begun working up some initial plans,” he said, showing something on the screen to Ochida, “but I want to discuss with you any special requests you might have before I finalize it. Particularly those new luxury features, which can put added stress on the engine. I want to make sure it’s fully . . .”

He trailed off, eyes snagging on something over Ochida’s shoulder. Everyone followed his gaze, including Mech6.0.

A girl had emerged from the ship, wearing an orange and white kimono.

“Ah, there you are, my princess,” said Ochida, waving her down toward them. “Have you been inside the ship this whole time?”

“Just saying good-bye,” said the girl, floating down the ramp. “When I see her again, it will be like meeting an entirely new ship.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You and I are going to be involved every step of the way, making sure my little girl is given precisely the ship she wants.” Ochida wrapped an arm around her shoulders before raising an eyebrow at Tam Sovann. “If that isn’t a problem?”