Memories of a Rose Bush
At times, it is not best to let sleeping crew members lie.
If it was to manipulate me into eventually buying the decommissioned fast frigate, I shall never know. Of course, the ship dealers’ Wit had run a thorough background check on me and must have discovered, despite my firewalled past, my obsession with tech from the Empire’s golden age.
Be it what it may, they revealed the artefact to be a part of the complementary package to sweeten the deal on the overpriced vessel, together with the additional sensor blisters, anti-matter magnums and maintenance droids — and the pair of planetfall shuttles.
Initially, I was skeptical; it was undeniably one of the first unabridged AGI models but quite the worse for wear. With clenched teeth, they finally threw in a full-blown overhaul on the combat android, and we shook hands.
At night, I often watch the machine sleeping on its bunk, and it makes me feel all warm inside, more than I have been since a lifetime ago when my parents sold me from the little farmhouse and pretty, snow-covered garden to the condottiere band after the Colony Troubles.
I signed over her ownership papers to herself weeks before. Each day, I promise myself to tell her the following ship-morning, my heart in turmoil and the remains of my pride withering leaf by leaf as if from the rose bush whipped by winter’s gusts.
What I fear, more than death, is that she would decide to leave.
The story above was first published on X (Twitter) and is © 2024 by David Pahor. No part of my stories should be used to train AI technology to generate text, imitating my writing style.
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