It was perhaps, because she was so cold, that he found her charming. He surely suspected that to her, he was just another sub-routine. A program, she would start up and run, when her other programs told her central processor that it was appropriate to do so. He glanced at her eyes.
She smiled, demurely and reached out to touch his hand. Her hand moved slow, her long delicate fingers seemed to absorb light. They reached his hand and wrapped around it slowly, then, squeezed, ever so gently. Her hand then retreated, to rest once again in her own lap.
Simon marveled at the warmth of her skin, the almost too human face. She blinked and smiled up to him.
“Why do you stare at me Simon?”
“Because you are a marvel.” He smiled. “Do you love me, Symphony?”
“Of course Simon.”
“Are you just saying that because you know that it’s what I want to hear?”
“No.”
“Are you just saying that because you are programmed to?”
“No.”
“How do you know what love is?”
Symphony cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, an all too human expression of puzzlement.
“Because you make me happy.”
“Yes, but how do you know that?” He persisted. He looked away from her and stared out into the cold night. His eyes caught the thruster flare of a ship, far off, preparing to leave orbit. “Aren’t you programmed to love me?”
“Aren’t you programmed to laugh when something is funny?” She countered,
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I don’t have programming.”
“That is debatable.”
He sighed. “But how do you know it’s not just a series of complex instructions?”
“I know it because I smile involuntarily when you are near. I know it because I derive pleasure from your happiness. I know it, because I do.”
“But that could be programming! Subtle, yes, and genius, yes, but it still could be programming.”
“Does it make it less real for you knowing that you are supposed to feel a thing when certain stimuli occur?”
He turned and looked at her. Her womanly shape relaxed in the contoured co-pilots chair, her skin glittering somewhere between rosey-pink and flickering stars. He almost believed her. Then she looked out into space and her eyes flicked, her irises constricted and her pupils flared, micro-miniature circuitry was pulsing to life just behind the curve of her blue eyes. She’d seen that engine flare as well.
“Simon. It’s a pursuit craft. We need to leave.” Symphony announced non-chalantly as she began to buckle herself into her seat.
“We’re in the que, we’ll get our chance soon.”
“Negative, Simon. We’re in danger.”
“What!?”
Symphony’s fingers flew over the ships controls and the darkened bridge lit up with hundreds of displays and lights and switches. She moved with frightening speed and grace. She continued to speak.
“Please, Love, strap yourself in. Prepare for dimension fold.”
“Right here?”
“I’m afraid so.” Her voice was low, soothing.
“Don’t worry love. I won’t let them hurt you.” And as she spoke, she coded in the incredibly complex figures for their impending leap through time and space. Figures, that would take most normal computers hours to crunch, a human perhaps days. This was why he didn’t believe she loved him, but it was certainly why he loved her.
And then they jumped through space and left time to sort itself out.
The world became solid and time took up its vigil again as the small shuttle materialized from its dimension fold. Simon blinked and turned to Symphony. Symphony moved from her seat and swept her hand over the ship’s control, gracefully putting it to sleep.
“Where are we?” Simon asked, rising from his own seat and moving up beside Symphony. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He grinned as she playfully struggled, wriggling gently in a feigned attempt to escape his embrace.
“We are nowhere, my Love.” She pointed to the star charts.
“Why?”
“It was the only place I knew that no one was.” She smiled at him.
“They’ll be coming for us, for you.”
“And you.”
“Yes.”
“What shall we do Simon?”