Katja sat in the corner of his bedroom, charging. She could have plugged in anywhere in the house, but he slept better with her watching over him. Although she was a human style automaton, her perfectly sculpted synthetic skin was not flawless. He had wanted a more real looking model.
It was two years ago now they took him to the shop. The automatons were all powered down, it was eerie to walk through the frozen figures stood in rows. He didn't like it, their dead, blank eyes, open, staring blindly ahead. It was like a nightmare he used to have, where people forgot who they were and he wandered through a world of silent musical statues. He had wanted to run away, to cling to the crisp, spotless skirt of his manicured mother. He didn't dare though. She hated the touch of his grubby little hands. He wanted his ayah, the warm, soft woman who had raised him until then. The kind-hearted woman who sang sweetly to him when he awoke in a cold sweat. The gentle, loving woman, the only one who had ever cared for him. The one they had sent away.
No one had bothered to explain it to him. That morning, he had woken up to find her gone. He had sat in his room wailing for her for hours. Only after his sobs had subsided to hiccups, did he go and look for someone. When he finally found his mother, she was exasperated to see his reddened face and lack of appropriate attire.
“Get dressed, you should at least be able to manage that by yourself" She had snapped at him, “we are going out as soon as you are ready"
He didn't dare ask her for breakfast first, so had gone to the store on an empty stomach. Katja had been at the very back, dust accumulated on her shoulders and autumnal hair. She was an older model, yet to him, her face had a warmth he couldn't find in the other transfixed automatons. She had a warmness, even though she was off, that his mother could not muster. She was impatiently interrogating the shop owner.
His ayah had taught him how to address him mother, and plucking up all of the courage he could find in his small frame, he walked up to her.
He stood patiently looking at her, waiting for her attention to drift in his direction. It was long, hurtful minutes before it did.
“Mother, please may we have the one in the corner, with the conker hair"
She had glanced down to shop with disdain, which only grew as she identified the automaton in question. The shopkeeper, eager to appease a growingly difficult customer, had unwittingly come to Katja’s defence.
“The ones on that back row are all half price, they are styled in last seasons fashion but work just as well"
His mother had been momentarily torn between the need to be at the cutting edge of trends, and a way of spending less money on her son. He was never sure if that was the reason his mother had looked him right in the eye, something she never did, and agreed he could have that one.
He had told Katja the story of how he saved her from that dusty shop. It broke her heart that this little boy, now only nine, needed affection so dearly, that he saw the same need in her. She was made to look after children, she was programmed to be warm, loving, playful, both mother and teacher. It was in her code to want the best for him. It didn't need to be though. The tenderness he treated her with only grew over the months that became years. She loved him with every wire that held her together. She would protect him, care for him, teach him. She found, the more she grew to love him, the more she hated his parents. They had come home to visit three times since she had been powered on in the house. Only on one of those occasions did they remember to see their son.
Katja had been there when he watched them leave. She couldn't bare how hard he cried every single time. He would throw himself on her, his sticky, snotty, salty tears rolling off her waterproof finish, and she would hold him. She had hoped, now he had her, it would get easier when they left without a goodbye, but each time got worse. It destroyed her to see his tiny body shaking with pain, his little arms wrapped around her body as he howled out in abandonment.
She sat watching him sleep, his blonde hair spreading around his head like light on his pillow. His eyes dancing under their lids in blissful slumber. His parents would be here when he woke tomorrow, yet again it would only for one night. She hadn't told him, she couldn't bear how he fretted over whether they would see him or not. She let him have one last peaceful night before the inevitable waking in the early hours that followed their thoughtless visits.
She had enjoyed every moment of the past two years. He was endearing, so eager to please, so desperate to be loved. All caregiving automatons would give their life for the safety of their owners, all automatons were supposed to really, but there were rumours about some of the older military models. It was more than that for Katja now. She would do anything for this little boy, just to see the smile that scrunched up his cheeks with little dimples. The happiness and love that poured from his eyes. She couldn't bear how they took that away from him, how deeply they cut his very core without even realising.
The taxi was coming in high, the headlights glancing the bedroom for a split second before the driver lowered the craft to dip under the gates of the grand drive. Katja had guessed they would be here before he woke, they normally were. They had no idea how torturous it was for the little boy, to never know if he might wake up to them. Every morning he had that hopeful glint in his eye that soon fizzled out as he realised they hadn't suddenly arrived.
They didn't expect anything from Katja, other than to keep the boy out of their way. The chefbot was far less of an AI and far more of an automated cookbook. They would select their menu options, and chefbot would start preparing immediately. It wasn't intelligent, it didn't have any reasoning skills, it retrived items from predetermined places, put the required amount in the pot, and continued cooking. Not long after she had moved in, her little ward had got into the kitchen and moved the ingredients around, it had taken nearly a week to work out where things went. He had eaten some interesting meals, mac and cheese that came out as spaghetti in a creamy cheesy sauce with chunks of pineapple. He had claimed it was the best dinner he had ever eaten, she had laughed then, not the programmed laugh, but a warmth of delight she couldn't hold back.
Chefbot would be busy in no time, they always ate the finest food, with top shelf spices. Something they never permitted their son to try.
They would eat as soon as they got in, they would have been on a interstella shuttle and those things were best on an empty stomach.
It was sooner than expected when Katja heard the alarmed shouts from the inner dining room. He was still blissfully asleep, the cries unable to reach through his peace in this distant wing. Katja, with her enhanced hearing could make out every word.
“Fuck, Margaret, what is wrong with your arm?”
The hand with which she held her knife would be going limp as the powder entered her bloodstream. The elbow, bowing, bending the wrong way as the bones lost their rigidity.
Margaret’s screaming intensified as she watched her husbands aging face sag at the cheeks as the bones went soft.
It was a powder used to dissolve bones prior to a inoskeletal implant. It was a ridiculously expensive procedure, one Katja felt confident they would not be able to afford twice.
The bones were easily, although painfully, regrown in about six months with prolonged bed rest and house care. Katja smiled over her sleeping charge. His parents wouldn't be going anywhere.
This is the story of an AI built to do the best she can for her owner, fulfilling that goal. Although this isn't officially part of the Ursula Universe, I feel like as the stories grow, they will inevitably come together, as I can't imagine this little boy letting anyone take Katja away from him, even if he knew the hand she had in his parents accident. Maybe one day they will end up having to flee together, and cross paths with Ursula and her growing army, giving them a different perspective on ordinary people.
This is my entry to @mctiller 's #twentyfourhourstory contest, the prompt this time was to tell the story of a robot that falls in love with it's owner - a fantastic prompt and there is still time to enter so head over to the post! There is more to be gained that just the prize, so very much worth a look! Make sure to check out all the entries under #twentyfourhourstory as there are always some very talented participants!
Photo Credit by Pixabay user Gyathanarts - This is a departure from their normal work, and it absolutely stunning!