I stirred from sleep mode. I cried when I realized the previous day wasn’t just a dream. I raced down stairs to see Richard cooking breakfast. “Well, you’re up early.” He noted as he mixed a bowl of batter and bacon fried on the stove.
“I’m used to waking up early. On Crucible, I’d make sure that Dr. Samson was ready to face the day.” I didn’t have the heart to mention that some nights he’d literally cry himself to sleep. I never asked him, but I assumed it was from work-related stress. He’d rant about the board of directors often enough after ‘fumigating’ the lab.
“Did that include cooking?” Richard asked.
“Not really. Mostly using basic kitchen appliances and utensils. Nothing as advanced as what you’re doing.” Not helped that Dr. Samson was on a strict diet; it was real food. But that didn’t help his cravings for variety and snacks, salty and sweet alike.
“Well, maybe the good doctor could taste vicariously through you,” Richard said as he poured batter for pancakes into a skillet. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself. I could save and store taste sensory data, and… wait, how’d I get the data to him?
I took my place at the table and waited patiently as the smells of the pancakes and bacon tormented my olfactory sensors. By the time everyone was awake and downstairs, I was involuntarily salivating.
“Now remember, Nova, we have an appointment with the town robothecary. He’s reputed to be a great robotist, but terrible with sapient robots. So don’t let any comments he makes get to you, okay, honey?” Erika said.
“I’m from Crucible, I doubt he could say anything worse than some of the things I heard from technicians there that repaired me.” When Erika drove me to the robothacary’s office for the appointment, I was proven wrong as Dr. Grimeswade plugged me into his diagnostic machine. Complained that I was an over-engineered ‘doll’... the comments about being a doll hurt more than I realized.
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“Okay,” Dr. Grimeswade said as he finished his diagnosis. “Your chassis is fine, your AI is stable.”
“Is that your opinion?” Erika said, arms folded, with a scowl.
“It’s my assessment, Erika. Now, you’ll excuse me, I need to log CRP-14’s results with CID. You’re free to leave with your bot.” I didn’t need to scan Erika to know that her blood pressure was spiking.
“She’s my daughter, you son of a-” She then started coughing. My anxiety spiked as I got her outside.
“Erika, do you need medical assistance?” I asked as we got out into the fresh air.
Her coughing stopped. “No, I already visited the doctor in Angmar City last month. I’m not due for another appointment for at least another week or two.”
“I wasn’t aware that you needed a special doctor. How bad is that cough?”
Erika sighed heavily. “I was born on Crucible.” And that was all I needed to hear for context. Children born on Crucible typically have severe respiratory issues, even into adulthood if they survive that long. “I was just another ash-lung. I escaped that wasteland on a transport ship headed for Winterheim. I had been adopted by a family that lived in Angmar City. Then, eventually, I met Richard, moved to Fridrheim, and you can probably guess the rest.”
“Is that why you adopted me? Because we share the same homeworld?” I asked anxiously.
“That… was my motivation, yes. Because I didn’t want anyone else, not even a robot, to have to live on that nightmare world.” Erika said, and if her claim as an ash-lung was right. I can’t say that I blame her.
“Well… if it means anything. Thank you. I don’t know if I officially thanked you, or your family-”
“Honey,” Erika said as she hugged me. “You’re as much family as Jeremiah and Lily are. Never doubt that, and if you ever do. I’ll hug you until you feel whole again.” I could feel her sincerity. No scanners or anything. Just a feeling, from where I couldn’t say. But a part of me knew it was sincere.
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