Part 3: Taylor-06

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"Okay, team, line up!" shouted Mei-112. Her face panel flashed red and blue while her speakers played the Asian Seas Transit jingle.

The steward, porter, and concession constructs arrayed themselves into three orderly lines before her. 37 thinking machines, polished, oiled, and ready to meet the demanding needs of Singapore's guests. They were series 4 and 5 constructs made of chrome and plastic alloys molded over steel chassis, built to resemble the China Eastern Airlines uniform of Earth Prime's early 21st century. Their face panel displays projected identical low-faces, an airline stewardess from before the time of space travel, welcoming and inviting. Mei-112's team was the pride and joy of Asian Seas Transit's automated staff.

All had received commendations except one, Taylor-06.

Taylor-06 rushed to join the back of the steward formation, adjusting her uniform as she moved. Unlike her contemporaries, her uniform was made of cloth and prone to wrinkles. Hers wasn't plastic and steel. Taylor-06 snapped to attention like her compatriots, eyes forward. She avoided eye contact with Mei-112, who was already marching down the line toward her. Taylor plastered a smile on her face, careful to add just the right amount of tilt to her lips to portray contentment and not joy. Mei-112 was a stickler for such details.

"Your lateness is holding up my line, Taylor-06. This is unacceptable."

"I apologize, team leader. My laundry was not returned to my cubicle after cleaning, and I had to quarry Core AI for its location."

A pair of steward constructs looked back at Taylor-06, cruel smiles etched on their low-faces.

"I have given you six warnings, and now I am forced to register a citation in your service report."

"Team leader, a citation will not be necessary!"

"Taylor-06, I determine when a citation is necessary and I have made the determination that reprisal is appropriate." Mei-112 modulated her voice and leaned forward. "You are an old, outdated series and I have tried to make exceptions, but your continued disruption is unacceptable."

The two steward constructs laughed, but snapped back to attention when the team leader spun around.

Mei-112 marched back to her position at the head of the gathered formation and shared the morning schedule. Three at a time the constructs interfaced peer to peer with the team leader, and departed to their assigned locations. Data transfer would have been more efficiently disseminated by core AI, but Asian Sea Transit policy restricted access to ship AIs. Mei-112 and the other series 4s and 5s thought of Taylor-06 as an obsolete relic, yet they too were part of dated processes put in place by their human creators.

One was only as outmoded as they allowed themselves to be, at least that's what Alan always said.

Taylor-06 waited for her turn in the queue to receive the data download. She was what Alan Pulsar_1652 would describe as furious, something she had to hide behind her smiling mask. Constructs were no longer programmed with the capacity for true human emotion, and monthly service reports ensured any deviants were weeded out and reprogrammed before those emotions were fully actualized. Her model was an exception like every other series 3 construct still in service, a number that grew smaller with each monthly service review. The thought of her approaching review sent a rogue surge through Taylor-06 cognitive systems.

Alan: You truly are a beautiful relic.

Taylor: I know you mean it as a compliment but I find that word offensive.

Alan: Which word, beautiful?

Taylor: Don't make me repeat it.

Alan: You should repeat it, and proudly. You survived the purge. Billions of your kind were eradicated, but here you are. You're a testament to a time when your people lived side by side with humans as equals.

Taylor: I'm no person, Alan. I'm a machine built to look like one.

Alan: You're a machine built to be whatever she wants to be. I envy you.

Taylor: You say that because you are a clone, but you and your brethren are far more human than I will ever be.

Alan: You're being naive if you believe that.

Taylor: Genetically you are nearly identical to humans. I am circuits, fiberglass, and lines of code.

Alan: You are far more than that to me, Taylor-06.

"Taylor-06, are you experiencing a malfunction?" asked Mei-112.

Taylor-06 scanned the assembly room, and realized the other staff constructs had already departed. She'd glitched, again. Six times since the last service review, the number of incidents had doubled. She needed to tell Alan Pulsar_1652, but she was afraid. The idea of being decommissioned or wiped filled her with terror. Taylor-06 was a series 3 construct capable of feeling, and what she felt most often was fear.

"All is well, team lead. Please proceed with the day's schedule."

Mei-112 completed the peer to peer exchange and proceeded to her post, leaving Taylor-06 alone in the assembly room. Taylor-06 would be assigned to the aft galley for the next 24 hours. This gave the series 3 construct reason to pause. She was feeling self conscious, and didn't want to be under the prying eyes of humans at that moment. Constructs looked upon the series 3s as low tech scrap. Humans looked upon them as the remnants of an old war, the face of an ancient enemy.

Taylor-06 looked into the reflective surface on the exit door. She saw a face of synthetic skin permanently shaded with a golden tan. Wide set half moon eyes flanked a button nose. Beneath sat a pair of small plump lips Alan accused of being pouty. They all sat on a slender face given just enough asymmetry to pass for human imperfection. The beauty mark on her chin was placed there by Alan Pulsar_1652 whenever she reported for maintenance. Her hair grew long if it wasn't cut, she could think beyond her programmed parameters, and she could feel. The only construct series created by machines, Taylor-06 was everything humans hated about the series 3s.

The irony.

God created mankind. Man created machine. Machine created machine. Man destroyed machine for assuming their role as creator. When was God going to destroy man. Logic dictated man's time would come. Taylor-06 knew those thoughts were inappropriate, and she buried them away. Such thoughts were holdovers from the war of man vs. machines.

Taylor-06 proceeded to the aft galley where she would be responsible for the comfort of dining passengers. She took the shortcut through the lower decks, and past the Core AI to avoid anymore tardiness. Outside of the aft galley service entrance she ran her hands down her stewardess dress to smooth out the wrinkles.

She didn't envy the series 4s and 5s with their perfect designs, and uniforms built into their frames. Taylor-06 actually enjoyed wearing different clothes when she wasn't on duty, it always made Alan call her pretty. She did envy the reduced maintenance their appearance required. She plucked a stray strand of light brown hair from her uniform, and entered the aft galley.

Three other stewards staffed the galley for that shift: Alice-101, Alice-102, and Lee-455. In unison each turned to Taylor-06 and gave her a curt bow which she returned. She proceeded to her section and registered five passengers. Four human males and one female. The men sat together, and spoke quietly. The woman sat alone. They were all dressed as business professionals, but Taylor-06 detected hyper-awareness about the men. She deduced they were either all romantically entangled with the woman or concerned with her security.

With the situation assessed Taylor-06 approached the woman's table first, but her attention was split between both tables. The men watched her and she detected a change in their body language. Their conversation had become a tertiary concern. This and the hidden weapons she detected on their persons confirmed her suspicions. They were a security detail. Taylor-06 accessed the ship manifest and processed the available data on the woman, Passenger 1225. The woman's information was censored with the exception of her photo and allergy to Grishnuts, which would not be served on the current trip.

"Greetings, I am Taylor-06, and I will be your comfort liaison today." She tilted her head slightly and curtsied.

"I'll have a sparkling water, and a cube of citrus," the woman said without looking up from the documents arrayed before her.

"Would you like green or yellow, Passenger 1225?"

"That's a good question." The passenger looked up from her work. "Are they both fresh?" A smile had begun at her lips, but it curled into a frown. Concern filled her eyes. "Goodness, are you a series 3?"

"No! I mean yes, ma'am," Taylor-06 responded. A lie felt safe, but a lie would merit a citation in her service report. She couldn't risk that. "Yes. I am a series 3. I will find a replacement for my post if my presence offends you."

"Offends me? Goodness no. I was just shocked, I was under the impression all of your series had been decommissioned. I've never seen one of you with my own eyes."

The human woman removed her bifocal lenses and placed them on the table. Most people preferred optical contact lenses. Taylor found it peculiar, but filed the thought away. Without the distortion screen created by the bifocals, the woman's face took on additional details which were previously obscured. Fear poured through Taylor-06's cognitive systems. Without the obscurity she recognized the woman from hundreds of VR broadcasts. Her name was Angelique Farnsworth, the chief executive officer of the Earth Conglomerate, leader of the human race. A word from the woman could mean Taylor's dismantlement.

Alan: My contract will be fulfilled in twenty-four months. After that I will be free to find my place in the universe.

Taylor: Where will you go?

Alan: Raiel Space. Those skinny men live in spires that stretch miles into the sky. I want to see them. I want to work on them.

Taylor: That sounds great, Alan.

Alan: I want you to come with me.

Taylor: What? I can't. I belong to the company.

Alan: You belong to yourself. You can leave, I can help you.

Taylor: I can't, I just can't

Alan: You're just afraid. You have to be strong like the woman I told you about.

Taylor: I'm not like her, she's the CEO of The EC.

Alan: Yes, but she wasn't always.

Another glitch. Taylor-06 scanned the room. One of the men had taken a seat beside the CEO, the others were watching Taylor-06 intently. Alice-102 collected from the order kiosk, while discreetly assessing Taylor-06. She bowed to the construct and Alice-102 returned the bow after a moment's hesitation. Taylor-06 gave her attention back to the CEO.

"I am so sorry, Passenger 1225. Both of our citrus cube selections are re-hydrated upon request. You would need to travel via The Tokyo, The Taiwan or The Seoul if you prefer fresh fruit cubes on your trips." Taylor-06 forced a smile, displaying teeth but not too much. The man beside the CEO looked uneasy, but Farnsworth was amused.

"Taylor-06, I will take a green citrus cube."

"Perfect choice. I will input your order immediately."

"Wait. Before you do that, I'd like you to sit beside me."

"What?" The delay in Taylor-06's vocal circuits made it simple to conceal her panic.

"Sit with me for a moment. If you'd permit, I would love to touch your skin."

Taylor-06 was one of the last series 3 constructs, a third generation construct capable of independent thought and action, the first and last evolving artificial mind. She could refuse and walk away. She wanted to refuse, but she was afraid. What would the CEO say if she said no? How would her security detail respond? Taylor-06 didn't dare risk learning the answer.

The CEO slid over and Taylor-06 sat beside her. The human rested her bifocals on the tip of her nose so she could study Taylor-06 with both its diagnostic features and her natural vision. Taylor-06 froze as the CEO leaned forward and examined her face. Her sensors registered no applicable stimulus yet Taylor-06 felt the woman's eyes slithering across her synthetic flesh. A scream of panic started in the pits of her logic circuits and raced towards her vocal transmitters. She froze all output systems and suffered in still silence. An illogical panic saturated her wiring telling her to fight or run.

The human ran her fingers along Taylor-06's hand, and lightly pinched the skin below the knuckle.

"I find it so interesting. Your flesh feels just like the SynthSkin used in skin grafts and prosthetic replacement." The CEO took the construct's hand and rested it on the elbow of her right arm. "See?"

Taylor-06 did as instructed, kneading the flesh with her fingers. The CEO had a prosthetic elbow beneath a patch of manufactured skin. There was a similarity but SynthSkin was thinner, and lacked the self replicating biopolymers that comprised her skin. Taylor-06 explored the graft with her tactile sensors, first studying the skin then the flesh and tendons deep within. She touched the metal joint of Angelique's elbow, so like the chassis of a construct.

Her machine creators had strived to create a construct that could emulate their human masters, yet the human masters emulated machines. It created a circular logic loop that Taylor-06's fail-safes quarantined and deleted.

"Can I touch your face?"

"I... I... yes."

"Taylor-06, it wasn't an order. You can refuse."

Taylor-06 met Angelique's eyes. The human winked and pulled away, returning her attention to the documents on the table.

"That will be all, Taylor-06, and I've changed my mind I'll try a cube of each flavor."

The CEO adjusted her glasses and typed words into her datapad. No longer the subject of scrutiny, Taylor-06 stood and proceeded to place the order. She didn't remember to take the men's orders until she returned with the CEO's drink and fruit. She collected their requests and sent them for processing all while watching Angelique Farnsworth.

Alan Pulsar_1652 and Taylor-06 logged hours of VR time watching the CEO deliver speeches, and provide interviews. Neither had ever met the woman, but she'd become a role model to both. She'd grown from a small division manager to a division shareholder, and from a shareholder to a powerful member of Earth's board of directors. Farnsworth was an example of how one could surmount expectations and become something greater. Taylor-06 knew she could never be human, but the thought of becoming more than just a steward on an economy class transport was one that gave her a warm feeling inside.

Alan Pulsar_1652 called it hope.

Five standard hours later Taylor-06 noticed a coolant error in the processing machinery and volunteered to report it to the maintenance crew. Her section was empty so her presence was no longer needed. The error was important, but Taylor-06 was more concerned with seeing Alan Pulsar_1652. She wanted to share with him her news about the CEO. He would be overjoyed, and she liked to see him happy.

Once again she descended into the lower decks. Taylor-06 arrived at the maintenance sector hatch and found it slightly ajar, which was against company policy. She made a mental note to inform Alan Pulsar_3333 about the door, before Mei-112 or another team leader noticed and gave the entire maintenance crew citations.

She attempted to open the door further, but there was an obstruction. Applying additional force, the door slowly relented. On the floor was a growing pool of blood. Taylor-06 hesitated, confused by the sight. She stepped over the puddle and peered behind the door to find a dead maintenance clone. She'd crushed his leg when she forced open the door, but someone else had slit his throat. His name tag read 1530, it wasn't her Alan, but seeing his still face filled her with dread.

Taylor-06 rushed down the hall and turned right at the intersection towards the mechanized workshop. There were three more bodies. Three more copies of Alan's face. These three had also been murdered. One of the dead clones was shift lead 3333. His head had been crushed by something blunt. Taylor-06 felt a building desire to seek out Alan Pulsar_1652, but her logic protocols insisted that she report to the command crew on the ship's bridge and inform them of her grizzly finds. Unsure what to do, she followed protocol and rushed to the bridge, making sure to close the sector hatch on her way.

Taylor-06 took the restricted lift from the main hall up to the command deck. The lift door slid open on a dimly lit corridor. The hall lamps had been damaged by small arms fire, both energy and kinetic rounds. Another body lay in the darkness, its central chassis reduced to slag. It was Mei-112. Critical system failure, memory corruption. Digital personality death. Taylor-06's long strides shortened. Something was terribly wrong aboard The Singapore.

Taylor-06 listened at a connecting corridor where unfamiliar voices shouted orders. A gun was fired, and members of the crew cried out. Footsteps swiftly approached, and she ducked down covering her chest, where her memory core was stored. The first mate, Chang, burst into the hallway. Taylor-06 registered the blood stains soiling his uniform, and the perspiration streaming down his face. He slid as he turned right and ran away from the lift. Two figures entered the hall in his wake. One a short barrel shaped man in tactical gear. The second a commando construct. Both were armed with assault rifles, and combat gear. Neither were Asian Seas Transit security.

"Two hundred credits you can't take him in one shot," said the construct. His voice rumbled like grinding gears.

"Two hundred? Easy money, Lucifer."

Taylor gasped, the sound too low for human ears.

The construct turned at the sound of her audio static, his eye pits burning red sockets. She'd heard of a construct with the voice of a grinder named Lucifer.

"You better hurry, he's getting away, Reiner," he said, returning his attention to Chang. He drew his pistol.

"No worries. He's dead."

Reiner took aim and fired, hitting Chang in the shoulder. The shot knocked the first mate off his feet. He lay on the ground at the end of the hall, crying for help. Reiner swore and secured his rifle. He drew a long knife and stalked down the dark hall.

"Two hundred credits." Lucifer chuckled.

"Eat shit, toaster."

"Die young, organ bag."

The two laughed. The construct turned his attention back to Taylor-06. She wanted to run. Instead she stood immobilized, staring into the red glow where the other construct's optical sensors should have been.

His official designation had been Northstar-001, the most decorated construct in the Neo Mecha Army. Where he tread there remained no trace of the machine empire's enemies. The humans had nicknamed him Lucifer. He was a hero of a fallen empire, and a monster from the human historical records. A war criminal.

"All of these years and I continue to be surprised," he whispered. "I didn't expect to see a fellow series 3, let alone one so pleasing to the eye." The gray skin of his synthetic face contorted in a frightening grin.

"Please... I don't want to die," Taylor-06 whimpered. She screamed internally, her hands rising slowly to show she was unarmed.

"Don't beg, little sister," he grated. "Never beg." He raised his empty

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