CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR NEW PURCHASE! We at ValanceCorp are very excited you have chosen to purchase an intelligent biosynth from us. In order to have the best quality of life for your biosynth, you must UNPACK your biosynth properly. Unpacking is a delicate process that must be done in order to make sure your biosynth — no matter the function — can remain in tip top shape. If a biosynth is not unpacked properly, you will not only encounter issues with your unit down the line, you will also void your warranty. (Please see INDEX for further information.) Once you have unlocked the biosynth from their transportation unit, please connect them to your home intranet. All models are within twenty years of date of the latest intranet devices. Once your biosynth is connected via their port (usually found on the back of their necks), your home intranet can take over the unpacking process. The process, while it can be handled manually to certain specifications, should only be left up to advanced users. The unpacking process ensures the biosynth unit has the correct specifications from the psychological profile to the understanding of home unit systems. The full forty-eight hours are required to make sure that all of their installations and initial checks can be run efficiently. Once the forty-eight hours are back, users will be called back to either assign or confirm the designation for biosynths and they will be asked for a check of systems. After those checks are performed, all biosynths are ready to serve whatever needs you have!
"Are you sure you want to pick Ponyboy as a name?" Dallas looks at the android in front of him, at the miracle of flesh and wire that he isn't sure he can trust. It's strange enough to hear another voice in here that wasn't the local intranet talking to him or to just see someone in front of him.
Or, at least, an amalgamation of a someone. Even if his nose is telling him, screaming at him that this is an omega, a dynamic that was so rarely seen anymore, one that looked like all those omegas depicted in old movies and photos, he knows that it's not a real person. The skin is too perfect, lacking scars — it's eyes have an odd backlit look to them that glow a soft silver beneath the hazel — it's anatomically correct in a way that Dallas is sure contradicts the textbooks and skinmags he'd found as a curious teenager. No real omega had a dick that big, and no real omega looked as softly perfect as this one that wasn't aided by tricks they used in magazines, and the hair was just too, too nice for a person.
In all of that, Dallas finds himself eating up the reply that the android gives in his light, pleasing voice, "I like it. It's real creative, I think." Its teeth look perfect in his mouth, slightly sharp but not too sharp. "Do you want to go over my unpacking specifications at all? Or do you just want to skip to the good part?" There's a bit of a laugh in its tone, a sweet teasing that Dallas doesn't know how to respond to for a second.
Someone's speaking to him. They want to speak to him.
No. It wanted to speak to him. It was made to speak to others. "Sure. I uh — You were a surprise here. Why don't you run me through what the facility told you?"
There's a dull hum as the system and Ponyboy link up together — his eyes seem to roll back into his head, showing the whites of his eyes, glowing silver as the facility responds. "We are located on Penitentiary Asteroid SEH-1965, and it's 2067 in Earth Year Units. I understand that it has been three years here on SEH-1965 since you started serving your fifty year sentence." There's a twinge in its voice, and Dallas chooses to just take a sip of his coffee. "As I understand it, this is an Environmental Restoration Facility, meant to assist in cultivating foodstuffs and fauna for SEH-1965. You have progressed faster than projections, and you currently have been able to successfully resuscitate three separate flora species and have harvested a great amount of nematodes, seagrasses and other xenofoods native to SEH-1965." The smile it gives is congratulatory in a way that makes Dallas want to squirm. "The intranet also states you are the only living creature on this asteroid, with shipments coming in every three to six months here from the outside world. The last delivery included me, and you currently have a surplus of food supply, though the facility is in need of a few repairs." There's another hum, the android's lips parting a little. "I can also see that there are other places on the asteroid that are currently unexplored, but are within distance and access."
That is news to Dallas. He frowns a little. "Places?"
"I can show them to you after we finish," Ponyboy continues on. "First, I have to confirm my designation with you. What is the purpose I have here, Dallas?"
That's a good question. Dallas thinks back to the manual he'd glanced over and looks at Ponyboy, still seemingly unaffected by the cold of the medbay. It's not as if it's the friendliest place in here — it's the most modern part of the facility even with the white wash of the place, the sterile environment it held. Here, there was a window that was completely shuttered, and it was so firm that there wasn't any sound of the rain coming down. Just the humming machines filled the air, and Dallas doesn't know what to say for a moment.
He hadn't bought him. Tim Shepard had just left him here — for reasons Dallas wasn't sure of and probably would never know. It didn't take a genius to know he was offloading some contraband here that was too hot or that he thought he could throw away into the abyss. Maybe it was pity that had convinced Shepard to dump off the android, or maybe it was a test.
He'd probably never know why.
He still considers Ponyboy, and the unnerving look it gives him. "I didn't have a whole lot of information when you were dropped off. You got any information you can give me about your... model, I guess."
"Of course," it relaxes a little against the med bay, a slight hum filling the air. "My model number is R-57, as I am part of the limited edition Rose line by Valance Corp. While I cannot divulge my incept date, I can assure you that this is the first and only time I have been unpacked so there are no previous programs — I am completely new." It smiles again, but that smile is different, more artificial. "As a model from the Rose line, I have multiple capabilities in a domestic setting, whether you simply need someone to mind your children or if you require a romantic or sexual companion. While I am capable of more scientific and job-related tasks as well, I am not built for tasks meant to take place in heavily industrialized areas nor am I capable for complex combat tasks. Last but not least, as the packet stated I am physiologically and psychologically a human being with a set of emotions, an excellent memory track, the ability to reason, to think, to speak, and to even consummate with. I am beyond illness and under normal circumstances, I should have a life span beyond that of a comparable human being if kept in good care, meaning I am able to assist with more than one generation if you so choose."
The spiel hangs in the air as he finishes up, his eyes still glowing, the room still humming.
It's overwhelming and suspicious — that he'd get a limited edition model, that it was insisting on what it was not, that he feels that he wouldn't be able to survive another week on this wet, awful rock without this thing here. For all it was, it still had a human voice, and it, supposedly, could reason.
Dallas thinks back to the books, to the unending rain and he thinks of Johnny's face, thinks of what it felt like to kiss him, thinks of how much he misses him. He looks at it again, on standby, and thinks maybe it's a good reminder of who and what he's left behind.
"Can I select you for both domestic and scientific arrangements?"
A hum. "You can. If you want to manually go through certain programs, I can help you. Otherwise, I have been built to house plenty of tasks, and the ability to handle them finely."
Dallas nods then. "Domestic and scientific. That's all I need."
Another hum. Ponyboy's eyes glow, and then it straightens up more. The whites of its eyes returns, and then the amber with that slight backlit glow comes back into place, and it reaches behind to pull the plug out from the intranet. Some of the glow dims in its eyes, and then it says, "All done. Where do I start?"
"Clothes," Dallas points at it, still keeping a distance, "And then I guess you get a tour."
It seems to be startled at the reminder of clothes.
Quietly, Dallas is thankful. Another reminder it wasn't human.
QUERY: SEH-1965, GENERAL INFORMATIONDATAFILE: RETRIEVED.The asteroid SEH-1965 was originally used as a resource for the ever expanding planetary might of Earth. When discovered by a landing party in 2012, it was described as having several main features: a robust soil, stable weather patterns that included a rich set of three seas, various wildlife, and a breathable atmosphere. By 2049, due to overmining, the asteroid was declared a waste. The overmining and uneven application of terraforming left the asteroid of no more use to the Earth's planetary expeditions as the seas had expanded to four, the wildlife had been decimated and the weather patterns had shifted in response. By 2054, reports stated that the seas were absent of life, yet still held promise — scientists agreed that the asteroid could still, with a great deal of work, be saved despite the now constant rainstorms on the asteroid. In 2055, it was reassigned to be part of the Earth Penitentiary System, where convicts were sent to live out their days and provide a level of usefulness while serving out their sentences. Like all Penitentiary Asteroids, sentences are based on Earth Units — on SEH-1965, every (1) Earth Year is equivalent to (1.5) SEH-1965 years.In 2065, the asteroid was designated as the place where DALLAS WINSTON would serve his sentence of fifty years for the murder of BOB SHELDON. However, in 2071, DALLAS WINSTON was granted a reduced sentence and was taken back to Earth.SEH-1965 remains unoccupied currently. [END OF DATAFILE.]
Wishing for company wasn't as easy as having company. Not when two — no, on here it was three — years had passed without more than a total of fifteen minutes of total conversation.
Dallas has to adjust to the sudden presence of something else in his space, something that wasn't necessarily human yet behaved like it. Before, he never had to think about habits he'd developed in all this time alone, before he never had to consider how much he'd changed without someone else there to talk to, to see, to experience.
And now, it's different as Ponyboy follows him down the hallways of the facility, turning its head this way and that when Dallas points out the elevator that he'd been trapped in or the greenhouse he'd been using to cultivate plants or the kitchen that hardly saw much more advanced use than making soup — if that.
It seems occupied by the entire place, the slight silver backlight of its eyes humming every so often as it takes in the place, as it starts to categorize things into datasets, memories, preferences.
It's only when Dallas is about to walk towards the green house that it says in that soft voice, "Shouldn't I have clothes? I don't think I should get any of the rain on me or track it through."
That's what makes Dallas reconsider things, his hand hovering above the panel, his eyes on Ponyboy's form. All this time and he'd just allowed it to follow him, wearing nothing. He'd mentioned it before and then it just had slipped right out of his mind. "Right, right. I uh — I don't." Dallas tries to think, it's eyes watching him as he struggles to remember if there are any other clothes in the facility at all. Why the fuck had he forgotten so easily? "I don't know if there's any that can fit you."
Ponyboy perks up at that. "There usually is a clothing packet in the containment. I could check and see if there's something there. If not, the specs of this place state that they always have extra clothing for other occupants — I could always check the other compartments, as well."
God, it speaks too well. Dallas nods, and motions towards the elevator. "I left it on the transport level. Just go down there, and come back."
He feels as if he's ordering around a dog that can actually think like a human as Ponyboy turns and makes its way down to the elevator. He doesn't like how he feels a little twinge at seeing Ponyboy enter the elevator as stark naked as he is. It's jarring — it's at once probably the most beautiful manifestation of skin he's ever seen and it's also clearly not human in how fluid the movements are, in the flawless skin on display, on the cheery countenance it has just going down an elevator.
It's not normal. The clips that used to play of androids smiling and waving and perfect were things he made fun of often — with Johnny or Two-Bit usually. Every bit of them was too perfect to accept as real, too inhuman in the smiles, the movements, the attempt to bring back a dynamic that was further and further on the brink of extinction.
And now it was just.... here, in his space as Dallas, sharing the facility together.
It makes his skin itch, makes his instincts go on pins and needles as Dallas waits for it to come back, able to hear the rain pellets against the greenhouse, one after the other. It's perhaps the lightest rain he's heard in maybe two months as he waits, thoughts swirling in his mind.
Just how long could he keep this thing a secret? Just what the fuck had Shepard been thinking dropping it here? Was he just noticing Dallas going crazy? Was he expecting Dallas to use it like those rich fucks like Sheldon who'd buy an expensive android, treat it like a walking fleshlight, and then discard it for the new model, over and over again?
The image pollutes his mind: the sight of Cherry Valance's home, and Bob's wing in it. The androids they'd placed in containers, their features blank, just skins there, floating in mid-air on display. How they lined up every side of the steps of their home when Johnny and Dallas had been invited in, frozen in half poses. Dallas had felt sick looking at them, as they'd turned in mid-air ever so slowly with the minutes. Bob had bragged about it, running his fingers over one display case of an android posted like a ballerina, it's arms delicate, his voice like nails, This one was my favorite. We almost put it on the market, but we couldn't get enough backing when it turns out it didn't have enough stamina to perform her duties as a pleasure model. We kept having problems with her internal set up.
Dallas had been disgusted then, and he feels his stomach turn now, thinking about how it had a look of terror on it's face that Bob seemed to be savoring. A look of terror that had been frozen on his own face when Johnny had stabbed him.
The hum and grind of the elevator snaps him out of his thoughts, lifting his head away from the panel to look at the elevator. It comes slowly, the exhaust wheezing before Ponyboy finally comes into view. It's hair is pulled back from it's pale shoulders in a ponytail, with a white t-shirt and jeans worn over a pair of old running shoes. The shoes have to be from the facility — they're too worn to be so new, while the shirt and jeans appear to be overly crisp.
Ponyboy gives him that smile again, and Dallas doesn't return it. Just beckons it towards the greenhouse, pressing his palm back on the reader.
QUERY: SEH-1965, FLORA AND FAUNA RESTORATION PROJECTDATAFILE: RETRIEVED.SEH-1965 once hosted a flourishing ecosystem containing one main continent and several islands. After the terraforming and ecological disasters, it was determined that SEH-1965 was a wasteland and remained abandoned from 2049 - 2054. In 2054 an expedition was carried out to see if SEH-1965 could be ecologically stabilized. It was determined that while SEH-1965 could not fully go back the asteroid's former ecological state, it's soil could be brought back to base level conditions in about five years and within twenty years, the ability to harvest very basic foodstuffs and flora could be done. Once this was determined, SEH-1965 it was reassigned to be part of the Earth Penitentiary System in 2055 in order to kickstart this project. It was determined that between one to three prisoners could feasibly be able to harvest what was necessary for the project, and that it would be a humane way for prisoners to both repent for their crimes and to help prove their usefulness to Earth. As of 2065, D. WINSTON has been assigned to SEH-1965 with the primary objective being able to both raise and harvest foodstuffs and to cultivate basic flora for the first five years of his sentence. After the first five years, if he has proven his abilities to harvest the basics, he will be taught how to move up the intermediary category. [END OF DATAFILE.]
The greenhouse, as it is, is large. It's about the size of half of a football field, all neatly organized by the previous occupants. For Dallas, it's been one of the few things that has made sense about this wretched place. Above it is a dome that glows softly with warm lights as he watches Ponyboy take it all in with a look of curious wonder on it's face. There are rows and rows of plants he's been attempting to germinate properly, with identifying tags on all of them, a collection of specimens he's successfully cultivated on the opposite side, with a section of the greenhouse closed off to allow the other xenofoods he's been patiently tending to on the other side of it.
The rain continues on softly as Ponyboy walks inside, turning this way and that to look at the specimens, its fingers tapping the labels. "It's very hard to do this job. Did you do something similar back on Earth?"
"Hell no," Dallas walks in behind it, looking at it bending down to look at a terrarium Dallas had painstakingly put together. It was filled with soil, and two flowers native to the asteroid in bloom. "I was just a grunt back on Earth. I had classes like everyone else, though and I can read. Not like I don't have time to do something, anything up here besides what they want."
Ponyboy runs its finger over the glass. "Most scientists wouldn't know how to do this. I think — Isn't the Earth saying, that you might have a green thumb?"
A snort leaves Dallas. He walks closer to it, just enough that they're within arms length of each other. "Any idiot can follow an instruction manual if you're bored enough." He points out other rows of plants, "That's Delta XV, don't touch that if you can. The one beside it is Blue Carpenteria, that's safe to touch."
Ponyboy does as instructed, reaching out its fingers to touch the blue flower. A grin brightens up its face, clear fascination there. "They're so pretty. How many are you meant to send back?"
"Any of them that can survive at least six months," he gives a half hearted glare towards the table of various plants he'd never been able to cultivate. "They want to make sure they can survive here and the three month trip back out. Most of them don't — I don't suspect half of this is gonna make it past the three month mark."
It's blunt, correct. Ponyboy, for some reason, looks a little upset as it straightens up. Something crosses its face, that it then seems to shake off. "You need my assistance with this, mainly? Do you want me to start now? I could give you a break to do something else."
Dallas feels... startled to be asked. Almost angry for a moment, that it's offering time off.
And then, hesitantly, he nods. "Sure. I was just gonna clean up everything at the transporter pod anyway." His eyes flick to the dome where he can hear the rain pattern shift. It's clear Ponyboy doesn't notice; its only been here hours and it won't understand how the shift in rain indicates the change in time. "Just — I have a log, just go through it, check the plants, and don't touch the harvest. I'd rather do that myself."
A nod from Ponyboy is his answer. "Okay. You can take today off, entirely. I think I can handle all of this and you deserve a break. Three years is a long time to be doing any of this."
Dallas feels that uncomfortable feeling again, feels his skin itch, and he turns and gets out of there.
It's not until he's in the elevator, hearing it creak and groan that he realizes why he feels uncomfortable: it's not the kindness of the words, it's the fact that Ponyboy reminds him of Johnny. Not perfectly; no one could perfectly be the man that Dallas had been with since he was seventeen years old, in New Tulsa beside the train tracks. No one could capture how much Johnny had meant to him then.
He also can't deny that the kindness in its face, the gentle words, the care all remind him of Johnny. He'd been the first person to show that to Dallas, and to have it come out of that thing like that, to have it treat him as carefully as Johnny had when they'd first met is disconcerting for him, strange.
It's a trick, he reminds himself. It's a trick that they do to make the androids be something people desire, to make them be wanted. They aren't real, they don't have emotions.
They're ornaments, able to walk and talk and nothing else.
Dallas tells himself that as he gets down to the transport area, gets away from that alluring scent Ponyboy has.
He has to remember that, he tells himself, as he begins to clean up everything. It was just an android, sent here to make things easier, not to be his friend, not to be a companion. It was functionally the same as a toaster, made to make someone's life easier.
That was it.
At least, that's what he tells himself in waking moments, cleaning up, hearing the distant sound of rain, and then the boom of thunder. It's what he reminds himself of when he passes by the greenhouse on his way back to his own quarters, able to see Ponyboy tending to the plants, music playing from the speakers. It sounds like something from Earth, some old music Dallas hasn't heard in a long time.
He tries not to consider that he'd never turned on the music here, couldn't stand having someone else's voice around, even in something as pleasant as that and now an android was filling the space with other human voices.
What he tries to remember, as he finds himself crawling into bed hours earlier than normal, is Johnny's voice, Johnny's face. He tries to read the letters Johnny has sent, tries to remember what it sounded like when he laughed.
Instead, he dreams of the Valances, of that room with all of those androids. He dreams of them, floating in those poses, their faces contorted, able to see Bob Sheldon smiling as he talks about what they did with them, as he talks about wanting to become one of the only android manufacturers left.
He dreams of Johnny, the switchblade flashing, unable to stop it, and the only sound in the dream is the awful rushed gasp of shock Bob gave when Johnny killed him.
In the morning, he wakes up to find that there's a cup of coffee, kept warm for him on his desk, and a plate of freshly cooked breakfast food. Beside it is a drawing of a flower, and the words, Sleep in! - P.
Unwillingly, Dallas thinks to himself in the morning fog, that it was a kind thing to do.
