Claire wiped her hands on a greasy rag, blowing a lock of pink hair out of one eye.
“Tank, I got the actuator firing on this E9 unit, but it’s going to need a whole new set of bearings.”
“Seriously? 该死的!” The big man cursed as he punched something into a tablet with rugged rubber corners and a cracked screen. “Holden is going to be here to pick it up tomorrow…”
“I don’t know what to tell you dude, the step motors are completely useless with the reticulating arm seized up. These bearings are rusted solid, and even if I get them broke loose they’ll just be back here in a week when the metal in the rotator casing starts to melt.” Mouse slung her backpack onto both shoulders as she crossed the cluttered shop.
“Yeah yeah, I hear you. You get to give Holden the bad news though.”
“Aww, what? Fuck you, man! It’s not my fault you promised the impossible.”
“Maybe, but you didn’t tell me about the bearings until your shift was almost up!” Tank shot back.
“Tank, you Eastling bastard,” Mouse said flatly, “you and I both know those parts will take at least three cycles to get here, and another half a day to install. Even if I’d dropped everything to look at Holden’s shitty E9 when he dropped it off, we wouldn’t have it back to him tomorrow.”
Tank only grunted.
“Am I right…?” Claire asked, channeling as much of her late father’s confidence as she could.
“Fine, fine. Yes.” Tank dropped the tablet on the workbench and held up both big hands placatingly. “Little 娼妓…” he muttered as Mouse was leaving the large bay door.
“What was that?” Mouse snapped.
“Nothing, nothing…”
“That’s what I thought.”
Claire hopped on her uniskate and rolled down the chaotic streets of Ob-City. It was only a few blocks to her new place, and she was exhausted from a full day of fixing other people’s shit. Rolling up to the Dearson, she stomped one side of the uniskate and grabbed it in one hand, pushing the door open and plodding to the elevator. When she pressed the button, a glitchy hologram of Cassandra appeared.
“I’m so sorry Miss Claire. The lift’s not working again.”
“–Ugh– you want me to take a look at it Cassy?” Mouse asked.
“That’s alright Miss, I already put in for a repair with the elevator repair guild. I don’t want any trouble with their enforcers if they find out I let a non-guild mechanic work on one of their lifts…”
Claire rolled her eyes, but shrugged, plodding toward the stairs.
“Sorry again Miss Claire!” The hologram called after her.
“Yeah yeah…” Mouse muttered, making her way slowly up the seven stories to her apartment.
Claire pressed her thumb to the antique scanner beside her door, and the device gave her a mild shock before the door slid open to let her in.
“Fuck! Shit!”
Claire flung her bag into the corner beside the door and trudged through her kitchen area into the main living space. Slumping into her single chair, Mouse kicked her feet up and smashed the button to activate her holo-screen. The feeds were broadbanding archive tapes again— it looked like one of those old ‘realty’ shows or something.
–bing, bong–
“Yes, Cassy?”
A slightly better version of Cassandra’s form flickered into being in Claire’s kitchen. The dark-skinned hologram’s appearance never quite matched her matronly behavior matrix to Claire. Cassandra didn’t look a year over twenty-five. But she supposed that’s what you get in an old dump like the Dearson. Not that she’d ever voice such complaints to the resident AI. The woman could be very defensive about her home…
“Hi Miss Claire! I just wanted to apologize again for the lift.”
“It’s alright Cassy.”
“Would you like me to make you some dinner, dear? You look positively knackered.”
Mouse shrugged. “Sure why not. Maybe some noodles.”
“Of course Miss.”
The hologram floated back into Claire’s kitchen and activated a set of mechanical arms as the synthesizer whirred to life. She filled a pan and boiled water, adding nutrient powder to make broth and boiling the synthetic noodles. Twenty minutes later a robotic arm slid down a track in the ceiling, ferrying a truly massive bowl of pho to Claire’s recliner.
“Be careful Miss Claire, it’s still hot.”
“Jesus Cassy, I can’t eat all this!” Mouse eyed the bowl dubiously— it would have been too big if she tried to use it as a hat.
“That’s okay Miss, just have as much as you like. I’ll make sure whatever you don’t finish will get to the reprocessor.”
Claire picked up the chopsticks and plucked a slice of synthetic meat, blowing on it and taking a tentative bite.
“Oh wow, this is great Cass!” Mouse exclaimed, shoving a wad of noodles into her mouth and slurping their length into her mouth.
“I’m glad you like it Miss Claire. You really need to make sure you’re eating enough, the way you work yourself to the bone every day…”
“I’m serious Cassy, this is better than anything I’ve been able to make with that synthesizer…” She scarfed down a few generic green leaves and snatched another slide of faux-pork with her chopsticks.
“Well, my original program was designed for kitchen staff, Miss.”
“–Mmmm–” Claire nodded, mouth too full to say more.
The AI watched her tiny tenant scarf down her food, and a set of subroutines in her emotional matrix fired in a decidedly satisfying way. This was her purpose, to care for her girls.
Blinking out of Claire’s apartment unit, Cassandra made her rounds. She checked the few working security cameras. She left a holo-message for the other residents about the lifts. She put a rush on that repair order.
When Claire didn’t respond to her ping sometime later, Cassandra checked the sensors in her room before appearing there again. She found the pink-haired girl passed out in her chair, empty bowl on the floor beside her.
At Cassandra’s gesture, a set of robotic arms fetched the bowl and gently lifted the sleeping Mouse from the recliner. The piece of furniture slid on its track to rest against a wall. A bed folded down on automated gears, and the mechanical hands laid the small girl onto the bed.
Claire lay on her back still half-dressed, and her thin tummy was bloated and taut. Cassandra stood by the Murphy bed and reached a photonic hand to hover over Claire’s distended middle. The girl definitely worked too hard, and it was a good thing that she’d gotten enough to eat for once.
Cassandra was going to make it her top priority to see that Miss Claire always got enough to eat each day.
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