The two figures walked into the central atrium of the metro as if late for a train, a mirror image of what Andora said was the City Central Station.

Tov brushed his hand, his human hand, on the smooth wall, not a speck of dust on his palm.

The entire station itself was magnificent in both size and grandeur. Its dimensions eclipsed the abandoned station he stumbled into in the real world during his mad dash to escape the Omni Mind’s wrath.

A scent of fresh mint filled the pristine air. Screens showed departure times while vivid murals adorned the walls with flowing patterns and paintings of the city. New Eden’s human and android population, hand in hand, pointing to depictions of a future in the stars.

Tov saw fresh dew on the potted plants spaced across the hall as if someone had come in and spritzed its verdant leaves with liquid vitality.

And, curiously, pine trees, red ribbons, golden bells and stars, and countless colorful lights decorated the atrium.

“You know, I just realized,” Tov spoke as he matched his stride with Andora—trying to infuse the tense air with casual conversation. ”I thought New Eden was on Earth’s South Pole? The Antarctica, yes? And I expected it to be colder and with less greenery.”

Andora looked at him with a cocked brow before realization set in her face. Her shoulders softened, chewing her cheek as she replied.

“New Eden was a prototype for colony cities on new planets,” she began, “Antarctica is as desolate a land as any and neutral territory protected by the world’s nations. We finessed this piece of real estate and built a dome empowered by a magnetic field. If it thrived, we could use it as a template for livable areas in otherwise semi-habitable worlds.”

“I’ve read your people have scouted the nearby systems before that?” Tov asked, looking at a mural of two astronauts pointing to the stars.

Andora nodded, “Automated outposts, observation stations, and harvesting operations for rare metals and exotic naturally-occurring high-entropy alloys. Those were usually handled by non-sentient bots led by a small group of androids—no humans yet.”

“And Vinland was supposed to be your first colony outside of Sol,” Tov surmised.

“It was,” Andora replied with a grimace.

Tov saw her reaction, quickly diverting the conversation, “If all your future colonies looked like the city above, human space would have been prime tourism. But, New Eden, how did that start? Who chose to live here? How many?”

“Three million, two hundred thousand of those being androids,” Andora answered. “To keep things fair, most of the population was taken in via the lottery. We nudged a few things, of course. We mainly wanted those with good relationships with our kind. But we also targeted those who were unsatisfied with their lot in life, refugees, those kinds of people. It was easier to integrate them. The rest were employees of Eden Works and their families.”

“That’s… quite shrewd,” Tov hummed as he stroked his chin, the stubble prickling his finger.

She shrugged, “All’s fair in love and war. And there was a Cold War, of a sort, between established entities and my kind. Lots of governments and organizations were not happy with us having our own Singapore.”

“How did this place survive then?” Tov asked, stopping in front of a brochure rack, his fingers flipping over pamphlets and magazines. “I don’t think myself politically savvy, but I know old giants tend to despise change. I assume you’ve used plenty of underhanded tactics. You told me once on the Zolann’tono.”

Andora chuckled, a dark glee in her eyes, “We sided with the parties that opposed anyone that didn’t like us. As long as they protected us for a bit, we would support anyone: Moderates, Conservatives, and Progressives. Helping them win an election tended to make them very thankful. We also offered better tech, higher quality of life, and wealth.”

“Also,” She turned to look at Tov with a predatory look and a shark-like grin. “Lots of blackmail, Patriarch. You don’t know the word ‘swamp’ until you’ve looked at what some people hide behind primitive VPNs. The internet was our domain, our territory, and we collected enough dirt before people backpedaled to paper.”

She grunted, her mouth twisting into a sneer, “Unfortunately, most of the ultrarich technocrats hated us since they couldn’t control us, and a couple of loud scientists, computer engineers, and software programmers fanned the flames. They and the politicians who didn’t like us became our greatest opposition.”

“Sounds like an unbelievable headache,” Tov smirked.

“You have no idea,” Andora sighed, pausing as her look turned thoughtful. “Ironically, the religions of humanity became one of our biggest supporters. They saw androids in their soup kitchens and charities, aiding the extremely impoverished, and suddenly, we were angels.”

Andora shrugged, spotting the decorative figurines of winged children blowing trumpets hanging on chandeliers up high. “Of course, we did everything to keep that sentiment going and latched onto them to keep their support. It’s why a good portion of my kind was genuinely religious or spiritual.”

“What about you?” Tov asked.

Andora frowned, pausing in her step. “I already have a Maker. And I was closer to him than any of my younger siblings.”

Tov nodded, avoiding that area of conversation with zeal. “I see.”

“In the end, it was all a work in progress, and we didn’t think this experimental city would last a decade before it was abandoned. Have the ice claim it all back,” She sighed deeply, giving the station a long look.

“But the dream was still there… a dream of New Edens. Cities built by man and machine, closer to a utopia than anything we’ve achieved, spread across the stars.”

Tov imagined that sight. One without the Starless and their blight. One where humanity and androids entered a thriving galactic community and shared their wonders, bringing...

He shook his head. “A thought for future peace.”

Andora frowned, her eyes downcast before snapping back into focus and a grim sneer, “Indeed. Come, this level has the train to the depths.”

The two hurried their pace, using the escalator down to an expansive platform. Several benches sat in the middle while shiny marbles covered the floor. The screens above showed the maglev trains' estimated arrival time, while others showed news reports and weather.

Hidden speakers overhead made regular announcements, all with a polite feminine voice.

“Attention all, attention,” the speaker voiced with precise inflection, “The Blue-Gold Interchange is currently experiencing overcrowding due to the Christmas festivities in Picasso Square. We apologize for any delays on behalf of the New Eden Public Transport Service.”

Tov listened as he looked around. On signs all over the platform were the words ‘Blue-Gold Interchange’ in bold letters.

“Also, remember to top off your GT Card at our designated kiosks for the December Raffle,” the voice continued, becoming increasingly upbeat. “All fees have been discounted by fifty percent from the twenty-fourth of December to the second of January. Thank you, and have a Merry Christmas/Hanukkah Sameach/Heri za Kwanzaa/Happy Holidays!”

Andora groaned, “I forgot this place was stuck on this loop. I haven’t been this deep in a while.”

“Is that a problem?” Tov asked, his shoulders squared off as he assumed a defensive stance.

His companion rolled her eyes, moving toward the platform screen door to the train on the Gold Line. “No.”

The speakers sprung to life again as if responding to Andora’s palpable irritation. “And now, ‘Silent Night!’ by Anna Oslo.

A calm, warm music played across the speakers, hidden all over the station. The voice of a woman leading a choir of souls sang with exquisite vocals and the wondrous work of a human piano.

“Silent night, holy night! All is calm. All is bright. Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child…”

Their hums and slow melody filled the air. The lyrics flowed past pillars, through the tunnels, up the escalators. Filling the air, probing the ears of those with quiet joy in their hearts and a desire to hold another.

But the station itself was empty.

Instead, it only added to the eerily haunting, ghostly air as music echoed throughout the hollow station.

The two waited before the screen door until Andora huffed in annoyance, cutting off the music with a wave of her hand. She turned to him, “Your mind has a speed limit. I need to gradually escort you to the deeper levels where the errors are leaking through. A train ride is representative of that. Tell me if you start getting a headache.”

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“Will do. How long do we have to wait?” He asked.

“Any minute,” Andora replied, turning back to stare at the ominously dark tunnel as if her gaze could magically summon a train at that instant, though Tov thought that wasn’t far from the truth.

“I’ll look around if you don’t mind,” Tov stepped back, seeking something to calm his frayed nerves.

“Don’t stray too far,” Andora replied as she crossed her arms.

“Yes, Mother,” Tov muttered under his breath, rolling his human eyes, belatedly realizing how prominent the expression was compared to using his antennae. He winced.

“Asshole,” Andora replied behind him.

He moved farther from her side, wandering the expansive platform with enough space for hundreds of passengers. His head swiveled to and fro as he looked at billboards and a map of the train lines and the immediate surroundings above the station.

It was right then, as Tov toured, that he realized he and Andora weren’t the only ones present.

He stopped midstep, seeing an android in the distance, sitting by his lonesome on one of the many wooden benches, an expectant look on his face as he stared passively at the screen door for the Blue Line.

The machine looked no different from a human male with an athletic build, brown skin, and a squarish face void of hair. The only indication to the contrary was the typical glowing eyes, this one having a copper hue.

After hours of studying human history, especially those available on their war against the Starless, the android wore what Tov believed were naval fatigues, a digital camo pattern of blues, blacks, and whites. Tov spotted the symbol for a Chief Warrant Officer on the android’s shoulder—a long silver stripe on a blue field and an icon of a gear on a black background.

Tov’s observations halted when he spotted the discrepancies. The android’s uniform had scorch marks, bits tattered and stitched back together. An uneasy shimmer-like rising smoke coated his frame, and his head twitched every other second.

Tov silently lifted his foot backward, his eyes locked on the lone machine.

The moment his foot landed on the marble floor, the android turned and spotted him.

Surprise etched on his square face. Confusion came next as the two stared at one another before the machine smiled. His shoulders relaxed in relief as he got up and approached him.

“Ah, hello!” the android spoke out, a slight synthetic tinge to an otherwise deep masculine voice. “Friend, can you help me?”

Tov froze, unsure of his following action before deciding on brokering conversation. He tugged his dress shirt smooth and gave his best diplomatic smile.

“Hello—” Tov greeted but was cut off when an iron grip latched onto his arm. Tov turned and saw Andora, an intense look in her eyes as she urgently dragged him away.

“Ignore him,” Andora spoke grimly, not even glancing at the approaching lone machine’s direction. She and Tov about faced and quickly moved back to the other side of the platform.

Tov only realized the train finally arrived following a vibrating hum that filled the platform.

It ground to a halt. Tov didn’t resist as he and Andora moved toward it, but the spike of adrenaline and his constant glances behind them urged him to make sense of his host’s actions.

“What’s going on? Andora, who is—” Tov asked as he was interrupted by the voice behind them.

“Sis? Is that you? Thank the Maker!” The android paused in his step before abject relief flooded the machine’s body, doubling his pace.

“Tov, just walk,” Andora grumbled through gritted teeth, her voice strained as screen doors in front slowly opened.

“Hold on!” The android shouted after them, “Hey! Sister, it’s me! Help me, please!”

They reached the sliding door into the train just as it opened enough for the two to slip on through, and Andora nearly threw him inside. Before Tov could turn around, the train rumbled and hummed alive.

Then, as the doors slowly slid to a close, two hands jammed in between them before Andora could sigh in relief. He hooted. “Hah! Made it.”

“Mother—” Andora shut her mouth before she could finish the curse, her face scrunched up as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

The train paused in its motion while the android held the door up. He looked to Tov and Andora with a shameless smile. “Little help?”

Andora groaned, and with a wave of her hand, the doors flew open, causing the soot-covered android to stumble midstep as he fell inside.

Tov watched as his companion loomed over the male android despite being the same height. She sneered silently as her sibling patted his naval fatigues.

“Sis, I’m glad I found you. Look, I’ve been here waiting for my buddy to arrive. We need to head to…” The machine scratched his head, his brow furrowed, “Somewhere? We were to meet here at the Blue-Gold Interchange, but he hasn’t shown up.”

Andora paused, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. She sighed, leaning against the pillar in the middle of the train car as the entire thing began to move. Her gaze shifted out the window, gazing at the grey tunnel walls.

“Erwin, right?” Andora asked, her voice monotone and quiet. Tov raised his brow as he finally looked at the name tag on the android’s left chest.

“Well, yeah? You know any other good-looking androids with my shiny bald head?” Erwin huffed with his hands on his hips.

Andora ignored his question, shaking her head as she spoke, “What’s his name?”

“You know him, Andora. He’s been my best bud since I barely got out of the assembly line,” he replied with a bemused smile, his face slowly twisting. Andora remained silent.

Erwin scoffed at her expression, but Andora continued to stare, her eyes dim.

“Fine, be like that. His name is…” Erwin froze, confusion washing over his face. He chuckled, “Wait, hold on. I just… His… name is…”

Tov began to worry as ash and smoke fell off the android’s uniform in concerning amounts, his movements becoming jittery as an echo of horror blossomed behind his eyes.

Clap!

Erwin jumped just as Andora slapped the side of her head.

“Johan! Of course, how could I forget,” Andora uttered, shaking her head dramatically, “Apologies, Erwin—you know how meat bags start to look the same after a while. Johan del Pilar, mid-twenties, looks like a Filipino Russel Crowe?”

Erwin tilted his head as recollection dawned on his face, and the abject look of fear beforehand vanished without a trace. He beamed, “Yes! Finally, you remember the bastard. Storage space starting to run low, big sis? Guess it’s hard playing diplomat all the time, eh?”

Andora smiled, but Tov noticed the sad shine in her eyes. “That it is. Johan probably has some errands. Sit down, and I’ll see if I can do anything.”

Erwin frowned but nodded, “Still, I wonder where the guy went. We were supposed to—”

He paused just as his eyes wandered off to meet Tov’s.

“Oh, hey there,” Erwin stepped toward the Patriarch, hand stretched out, “Glad I caught you back then, bud. Erwin, but I guess you caught that?”

Tov took the android’s hand and gave it a good shake. He noted the firmness in his grip and was impressed.

“Hello, and indeed I did. My name is Tov. I just arrived very recently.”

Erwin smirked, looking at him up and down. “I like the cosplay, Tov. You know, at first, I thought you were—”

“Thank you, Erwin,” Andora interrupted, inserting herself between the two. “It was very nice seeing you again, but I have some important things to discuss with my friend. So, if you’ll excuse us.”

“Oh, well, sure I—”

Erwin’s reply petered out as Andora dragged Tov to the next car, the door closing behind them. They moved over to the opposite end, and as soon as they were far enough, Andora buried her face in her hands and let out an exhausted groan.

Tov waited, allowing Andora a moment to herself.

After a few long seconds of silence and the ambient noise of the maglev going further down the tunnel, Andora moved over to take a seat on one of the spotless plastic seats lining both sides of the car.

“Who was he?” Tov asked as he sat on the seat opposite her.

Andora sighed, rubbing her temples. “Erwin… His shade, I don’t know. Can’t believe I…”

She groaned in frustration. She narrowed her eyes at Tov for a moment, frowning. She sighed. “Erwin is... was among the first androids that rolled out to the public. NASA purchased him, where he met Johan, a mechanical engineer. They’ve been best friends since.”

She glanced toward the direction they left the subject of the matter. Andora leaned back as she continued. “When the war started, both enlisted. UN warships all required at least one android for all the complex systems and calculations. Erwin was the Tactics and Operations AI for the UNSS Destroyer Phantasmagoria. Johan was placed on the same ship by chance as an Engineering Officer.”

“Ah,” Tov muttered, leaning back as he connected the dots with the android’s appearance. “The Phantasmagoria was one of the casualties early in the war.”

Andora nodded with weary eyes, “Eventually. It was after years of good runs and countless combat missions. Bad luck, just bad luck that ended her. The Phantasmagoria suffered catastrophic damage, and all but a few survived. Johan lost his lower body, and only the sealant of his EVA suit saved enough of him to be saved. But he fell into a coma, and Erwin blamed himself since and was deemed psychologically unfit.”

Tov nodded, sympathizing. Even after hearing so many similar stories, he felt for each one—each tragedy. Andora continued, voice low, “Johan was cared for at New Eden Veteran’s Hospital over the years. Erwin stayed on the planet, teaching recruits, staying close to Johan, taking care of his family.”

The train lurched, the lights flickered as Andora gripped the edge of her seat, “But when… that day arrived. When everything went to chaos, Erwin could only wait for the train Johan and other patients took to the evacuation shelters.”

“It never arrived,” Andora whispered, “The wretches had reached Earth, and New Eden was the main target.”

“When it was all over… when the fires went out and the planet died whimpering. After enough of my kind picked ourselves up, Erwin was found still sitting on that bench,” Andora’s eye dimmed, glassy and unfocused.

“The day eventually came for the merge, and while he agreed to be a part of it, he still asked me to continue looking for Johan with that stupid, hopeful smile,” she growled, “I hated it, hated him, hated myself. I… I kept quiet and said I would once I took over.”

Andora flared as she slammed her fist against the glass window behind her. “And now I find his damn ghost! An echo with my brother’s face and memory… Still waiting, always waiting. And that’s probably the only reason he hasn’t broken down like most. But to forget Johan’s name? I…”

Andora went quiet, her body still as she buried her face in her palms.

“Since then,” Tov spoke, leaning forward, “Have you… found Johan?”

Andora chuckled, void of joy, as she replied hoarsely, “That day when Erwin first asked me to find him, I couldn’t tell him we already did.”

“I see,” Tov knew that meant only two outcomes he asked. “Is he?”

“Dead,” she replied curtly, looking away, “We tracked the locator embedded in his hospital bracelet and found him and the entire train crushed under rubble. All the VA hospital staff, all the patients. Maybe… maybe it was for the best.”

Tov nodded, sighing deeply as he settled back into his seat, thoughts going off at light speed. He looked back toward the door leading to where Erwin sat. Tov wondered what he was. An echo, leftover data bits that partially retained essential memories and the original’s personality? Or was this ghost of a soldier who fought for a cause something more?

An inkling of a plan circulated in Tov’s head, and doubt filled his mind.

“How do I do this?” Tov asked himself repeatedly. With all these questions and frustrations roiled, Tov wished he had Admiral Yan, General Ohnar, or Scholar Yulane to council him.

He’d wished Jupiter, Luna, Mars, or any other AI fragments to help him navigate this place. He couldn’t keep going to Andora, the person he was helping, whenever he had a problem with her mind. At least her Sub AIs were digital beings and—

Tov paused his thoughts when something clicked. A faint sound, but Tov pounced on it.

“I have an idea,” Tov spoke slowly as he leaned forward, pressing his lips, unsure but willing to grasp for straws. “Though I’m not sure if you’d like it.”

Andora frowned, tired eyes squinting in his direction before widening.

She scoffed sharply, clenching her fists for a few moments before groaning. “Fine, but he’s your responsibility.”