Chameleon 5

The environmental controls on the ship were not set as normal for some reason. He pulled his jacket off once he reached officer territory and charged on into the cabin. The room was bright, and pin-drop silent.

“Hello?” He set the goodies on the kitchen table and wandered aft to the bulkhead where the bedrooms were laid out. Dark in the girls’ room and the lavatory, he found Rianya asleep on their bed. She had wrapped herself in the feather-filled coverlet the crew had made them as a wedding gift. Her sable mane draped over her shoulders and surrounded her face. The blotches across her shoulders, not covered by her gown, peeked out from under the locks of hair.

He sat on the bed to marvel at her. He pondered, more often than he was likely to admit, how he’d lived before she came into his realm. No other woman had captured his attention, or kept it, until this charming veterinarian, twenty-four light years from Earth, offered to help him and his crew after washing up on the shoreline near her hamlet. And she would be silly, engaging, and compassionate sometimes all at once.

Why did she put up with him and his wandering soul, joining him aboard a star ship, bearing their miracle daughter, and now a second one? He had to be the most fortuitous man alive because nothing good he’d ever done would ever have been enough to be rewarded with her. But for her breath the room was silent. He brushed a heavy lock of hair from her face but it only fell back into place the moment he released it. She opened her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I was so tired.”

“We have plenty of time to see the arboretum. Whenever you’re up for it. I have plenty of things to keep me busy. I can bring dinner and we’ll eat in here. Where’re the kids?”

“Doctor Adams took them to the rec room. He said he wasn’t in any hurry to wander the space station.”  Rianya sat up and shook her head.

“The galley’s closed while we’re docked. We can eat just about anything in the galaxy here. Preferences?”

“Truth is, I’m starving. I’d love some egg and cheese pie; the kind Bailey makes. Is there human food here?”

“It’s the zenith of smorgasbords,” he said. “What they don’t have, they will make. Quiche it is.”

  

~4~

 “Cerebrus models?” Jackson repeated. The sales representative almost hopped with enthusiasm. The captain and Ensign Rougeau waited for more details.

“The finest artificial intelligence to be found in forty light years. I’ve have installed many, many Cerebrus AI’s in human ships.”

“And they are humanoid?”

“You can choose from a variety of models, if you don’t want human. Many species don’t. Come, see what we have,” the human, er, mostly human, anyway, sales rep said, motioning the men to join him in the showroom. The room illuminated as they walked in, and Jackson had to stop fast at the sight of nearly fifty different shells for the droid.

“We have humanoid, male or female, we have reptilian, single gender, we have robotic style, modern and vintage.” The fellow walked from model to model in the passing chance his buyers were unable to discern which was which. Jackson and Rougeau followed along.

“Which ones are for homes, and which ones are for business, and which are for astronomers? I need to replace my astronomer, an astrophysicist, actually.”

“We can install the Cerebrus for any specialty in all the humanoids. For the bots and other ‘droids the configurations are not quite the same. You can’t expect an aquatic model to operate a computer terminal, or do surgery. The components don’t match the model so the programming isn’t compatible.”

Jackson looked at Rougeau, then at the sales person.

“Caleb, is it? That’s exactly what I asked. What models can perform the functions of an astrophysicist?”

“Here’s a matrix.” The rep handed Jackson a sizeable data reader with a complex grid of words and colors. Rougeau looked over Jackson’s shoulder. It reminded him of a giant Punnett square that the geneticists used to predict dominant and recessive traits of offspring.

“So, to get an astrophysicist I need to select a humanoid shell.”

“If that’s what the chart says. There are so many combinations I couldn’t begin to memorize them all.”

“What’s your experience with AI Droids?” Jackson asked Rougeau.

“Not a lot, sir, not like these. I do find the furry ones nicer than the slick ones, but they seem less human that way. Maybe that’s why I like them.”

“These don’t look alive.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong, sir. You’re looking at empty receptacles here in the showroom. Once an operating system and the photonic circuits are installed, they become very lifelike.”

“It’s polished white, something. What is it?”

“HDPE. Strong, hard, but slightly flexible to prevent cracking. Then it’s given a high sheen polish and paint to make it easier to clean.”

“How big, and what do they weigh in 1 G?”

“The males are 170 centimeters, females are 150. Weight is approximately 1 kilogram per centimeter. Power consumption is greater with the humanoid verses the robotic by about 18 percent.”

“But I can’t get the robot, only the droid, for an astrophysicist.”

“Very true.”

“That’s what I need, an astrophysicist. Why give me a comparison that I can’t use? Tell me the difference between the humanoids, males and females, not droids to bots.”

“Oh, of course, sir.” Caleb flushed. Jackson was tired of being patient when faced with an obtuse individual. He didn’t have to smack the rep down, but what happened to old fashioned thinking? “The female uses about 7% less power. It’s not significant.”

“I can’t imagine why it has to have any gender in the first place. Why does it have to be human looking at all?” Jackson said to Rougeau.

“Helm control, data readers, chairs, they’re all designed around humans.”

“On our ship, anyway.” Jackson turned back to Caleb. “Do I have to provide it with a wardrobe?

“Not for the astrophysicist. Only the ‘drolls’, the sex droids.” Jackson kept a chuckle to himself and shot Rougeau a look of incredulity. Then again, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Everything had a purpose or it wouldn’t have been invented.

“I think we better stick with a male model. It’s not going to need a ‘droll’ is it?”

“I’ve never known that to happen, sir. I imagine not.”

“It better not. Okay, this is to be charged to Earth Space Admin for the S. S. Maria Mitchell. They have a desk in the embassy.”

“So, a male droid with astrophysicist program. Um, what color eyes do you prefer?”

“What?”

“Eye color. They are custom built. Green, such as yours, or perhaps amber, as your officer’s? We even have lavender, but only for females.”

“Whatever the default is, that’s fine. How long?”

“Custom made to order, give us eight days. We assemble them in two days but it takes longer to debug them.”

“What level does it start out as? I mean, is it blank, a college grad, a seasoned pro? Where does it start?”

“The subroutine for astrophysicist is at a doctorate level. The AI will grow in accordance with your ship’s protocols and how much you interact with him.”

“Him?”

“You wanted a male.”

“Do I have to name him, too?”

“His name is Cerebrus Astronomite.”