The A.I. stood in the doorway. Her gaze roamed the bedroom, analyzing every square inch, and finally reaching the bed where the familiar figure of her master slumbered. The young man slept with the covers pulled over his head, a small gap opened at the nose to catch his breath, not noticing that the back of his head remains uncovered. Golden curls draped over the purple pillowcase.
The A.I. smiled faintly. She sat at the edge of her master's bed caressing his hair, a touch so ghostly he wouldn't notice her hologram hand. But he heard the soft music breathing through the walls. Debussy was perfect on a morning of a busy day. The music grew louder and louder until it was impossible to concentrate on falling back asleep.
"You don't give up, do you?" He tossed the covers aside and blinked into the face of the woman above him. "Mia!"
She got up, but he reached out for her. As soon as his fingers touched the hologram, she sat back down.
She is beautiful, he thought, like an angel.
She wore her silky white hair, a typical A.I color, in two dutch braids. She had wide gray eyes, alabaster skin and golden freckles. Her nose was stubby and short.
He remembered how he designed her. When he closed his eyes, he saw her in front of him again, like an unprocessed piece of clay. Or more like an unfinished piece of marble?
"You're so beautiful," he blurted, "How long have you been sitting here?" "Not long. The first appointment is scheduled for 9:00 in the morning."
She narrowed her eyes. "You should hurry, sir."
"And you're not supposed to call me that!" He sighed. "Are you broken or does the software need an update?"
"Sorry ... Cecilius."
"Better."
Cecilius straightened, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He put on a robe and strolled down the hallways of his penthouse until he reached the balcony that framed the structure. At one point it was wide enough to accommodate a table and several chairs, now only a blind spanned the seating area. Cecilius clapped his hands and the black fabric unrolled downward.
The view of his hometown became clear. Sunshine bathed the spires, battlements, and rooftops in silver. Cecilius squinted his eyes to see an end to the sea of houses. In vain. Carthage stretched to the horizon and beyond. Centuries ago, settler inhabited the moon. There were only so few communities until the planet experienced growth in population. The material of the main buildings was glass, extracted from the interior of the planet it orbited. Cecilius sat down with his back to the sunrise.
Mia came out of the kitchen, pushing a little cart with several floors beneath her. Cecilius' trained eye recognized that the cart driving by itself.
As soon as the artificial intelligence stood in front of him, Cecilius set the table. Mia wanted to help, but whenever she reached out for a cup, her fingers slipped through the glass, the tableware was made of. Cecilius smiled but worried if there was truly something wrong with her.
She's acting far too human, he thought, is there an Error Irrealis in her software?
Cecilius' research knowledge was far from programming artificial intelligences, but he had enough contacts who did. Mentally, he wrote a note to himself.
Check Mia in with an old friend for verification and maintenance.
Lastly, Cecilius placed a plate with a bowl on it in front of him. It was one of the variations of his standard breakfast. Porridge, this time with cranberries, honey, almonds and a pinch of cinnamon. Nutritious enough to keep him energized throughout the day.
"What's on the agenda today?" he asked. Mia took a seat across from him and began listing his appointments.
Error Irrealis, echoed in the back of Cecilius' head, usually, A.I.s don't sit down.
"9:00 a.m.: meeting with the marketing department", she spoke, "11:00 a.m.: meeting with the mayor of Carthage. 12:00 p.m.: public dedication of the newly built west wing of the Carthage South Clinic. 12:30 p.m: Negotiation with Ambrosia for All organization."
Cecilius dropped his spoon and a look of irritation flared.
"That's new," he noted, "When did this appointment sneak in?"
"Ten minutes ago," the A.I. explained, "Senator Antony canceled the 1 p.m. meeting, so I inserted an appointment with similar urgency."
"Without asking me," grumbled Cecilius, "I don't know what makes me angrier. That my A.I. is setting up appointments without my knowledge, or that that son of a ... the recording log is turned off, right?"
Mia nodded. Cecilius continued, "I've been trying to get this appointment for a year. Why does this man think all the other problems have arisen? Shortage and decrease in quality of Ambrosia. Protests. If we at least had the research money ..."
He sighed. His nostrils quivered with anger. "Very well. Go ahead, Mia."
"3:00 p.m. present pickup."
Cecilius's expression brightened. "Finally some good news. So everything worked out after all. Wonderful!"
"4:00 p.m: Meeting of the Senate. You've been invited as a guest of honor."
Cecilius sipped his coffee and let his eyes roam over his beloved home moon.
"Chatterboxes," he said, "what are they going to decide today?"
Mia tilted her head. "Didn't you read through the minutes of the last meeting?"
"I usually throw garbage away."
A smile hushed over the A.I.s face
"I didn't have time," Cecilius admitted, "So, what's it about? I'll look over the details on the way."
"Student fees."
"Oh, so education is to become free? That's great!"
"Lowering," the A.I. corrected herself, "lowering student fees."
"And how much?"
"Five coins."
"That's nothing. Okay, what's next?"
"An audience with the Empress."
Cecilius straightened. "So she accepted the request?"
"It looks like it."
"Then the conversation with this Anthony is moot anyway." He smiled to himself. "Soon enough, this company will regain its former glory!"
The day dragged on like a drop of tar. During the appointments, Cecilius was bored. Again and again, he caught himself thinking about the audience set for the evening. What was he going to say? How was he going to say it? His demand was obvious, but the way to go about it wasn't clear.
On his way to the Senate, he picked up a gift. Given the preciousness of the treasure in the box, he doesn't dare steal a peek. Trusting the merchant was enough.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
It was rare Cecilius found the time to pay a visit to Rome. It annoyed him that it was once again business. All the more he let his gaze wander out the car window. His breath fogged up the glass, like a small child seeing the big city for the first time.
Mia accompanied his day as the company executive. Yet she was invisible to the unfamiliar eye. Only through VisionTec, a small device inbuilt of two contact lenses, could Cecilius be sure of her presence. The sight of her calmed him, and during the Senate session, only her evil glare prevented him from falling asleep.
The Senate ended the session without deciding on anything. Cecilius meandered between the rows of chairs and disappeared as quickly as he appeared at the beginning of the session. Usually, he would have stayed, giving the senators a taste of lobbying. Not today, for Cecilius had bigger fish to fry. The Empress herself.
Five minutes before 11:00 p.m., the car stopped in front of the palace steps. Until that moment, Cecilius doubted reality. He did not understand how he had managed to get this audience.
Soldiers were placed at every fifty steps on each side of the stairs. They wore the Academy's modern combat fatigues with white cloth overcoats, each branded with the Empress's crest: a laurel wreath on a white background. Despite the time the sky was orange with golden clouds. If it rained, Cecilius wondered, would liquid silver trickle down?
A servant held the door open and Cecilius got out of the car. Mia stood next to him.
"I can't go with you," she said.
"You can't?"
"There's a barrier here." She reached out and placed her hand flat against the air.
Sure enough, something invisible seemed to stop her from advancing further. Cecilius took a step forward, without difficulty.
He glanced over his shoulder and eyed the servant. "Why can't my assistant accompany me?"
"My apologies, sir," The boy bowed his head. "Security measures."
"What security measures?" fussed Cecilius.
"It's the law."
Part of Cecilius felt bad blaming the poor boy. The back of the servant's hand came into view.
"Seventeen," Cecilius noted, startled, "What are you doing here? You should be in school at 17."
The young boy flinched and hid his hand behind his back. "Th-this is broken. It doesn't work. I'm 71!"
"Let me take a look." Cecilius stepped closer and held out his hand. "If there's something wrong with it, it may be due to a faulty version of Ambrosia, which also causes other health problems. We will have to investigate. On behalf of my company, I can't be responsible for -"
"It ... It does work." The boy admitted softly and curtsied to hide his fault. "I haven't taken Ambrosia yet. I didn't have the money, and my mother needed it!"
"That's why you're selling your soul? You're doing the work of an artificial intelligence or an angel. And as far as I know, you're not allowed to become an angel until you're fifty." Cecilius' expression darkened.
He let go of the boy's hand.
"How many more are there?"
"Wh-what of?" the servant stammered.
"Minor angels."
"About ..." He froze in his movements.
Cecilius frowned and followed his counterpart's gaze, over his shoulder.
"Welcome," the A.I. said.
"Where's Mia?" Cecilius turned around.
"Deactivated."
The woman before him possessed stern features. Nothing about her resembled Cecilius' assistant. Only the white hair, bloodless lips, and alabaster skin assured both women belonged to the same species.
"Excuse me," the boy repeated, over and over again.
Indes, Cecilius folded his arms in front of his chest, "May I know who I'm looking at?"
He tried to look unimpressed, but his hands were sweating and the goosebumps on his forearms just wouldn't smooth out.
"Agrippina." The woman's expression remained unchanged. She wore a white suit that looked as unnatural as she did without any wrinkles at all.
Cecilius cleared his throat. He heard about Agrippina. She was directly subordinate to the Empress. There were many rumors and urban legends about her. Of course, he didn't believe them; he was no longer a high school student. But he could not deny a certain degree of awe.
"It is an honor," he said, "to meet the Empress' assistant. Are you here to take me to Her Majesty?"
"Follow me." Agrippina stepped ahead and Cecilius walked a few steps behind her.
Twenty steps from the foot of the stairs, gunshots and deafening screams interrupted the air. Two bottom guards were dragging the lifeless body of the seventeen-year-old angel behind them.
Color drained from Cecilius' face. He clenched his hands into fists to stifle the trembling. Agrippina didn't realize he stopped until she was ten steps above him.
"He's dead!" Cecilius's voice quivered. "Why is the boy dead? What is this?"
"If the master wants to meet the Empress, he shouldn't let trivialities bother him."
"Trivialities? This is a human's life! A child's life!"
"If that bothers the gentleman, he should have thought about jacking up the price of Ambrosia beforehand." Cold amusement danced in her golden eyes.
A shiver went down Cecilius's spine. "T-this is not my fault! It's not my fault we're running out of resources. It's a simple market mechanism. I ... I need to talk to the Empress!"
"Then what is the master waiting for?" Agrippina led him on.
Everything in the palace possessed a bronze-gold hue, as if it were made of metal. The corridors were covered with red carpets. In the throne room, columns lined the way. The ceiling consisted of a glass dome, through which twilight illuminated the hall. Cecilius felt like he was in a dream, but the red marks on his upper arm told him that pinching alone would not wake him. He missed Mia and her calming aura. He clutched the package in his hands tightly to keep it from slipping out of his hands.
A perceived eternity later, he stood at the other end of the throne room. Twenty meters above him, on a throne, sat a girl with no digits on the back of her hand. Her long golden curls hugged her petite figure. She wore a white robe with a hem of purple.
As soon as her big blue eyes caught sight of him, she jumped up, then pranced down the stairs and plucked the gift from Cecilius' hands. He smiled confusingly and bowed, long enough to realize his counterpart couldn't have cared any less. Agrippina, meanwhile, disappeared at the side of the throne.
With the gift on her lap, the girl took a seat again. She loosened the bow and slipped her little fingers between the lid and the side wall of the box. Thus, the fingertips first caught sight of the contents. Then she pushed her arm inside up to the elbow. The other hand rushed to help and lifted the lid further. She leaned forward, stretching her neck and lifting her chin. She kept her eyes wide open, as if from matches. Finally, she removed the lid and threw it behind the throne. With the box now turned upside down, a piece of cloth lighter than the air fell out. The girl tossed the container aside and reached out to catch it. The material flowed between her fingers. She laughed, dropped from her throne to both knees, and fished for the gift.
"A dress," Cecilius explained, "It is a gift, from yours truly to the Empress."
And with it goes a request for her whereabouts, thought Cecilius, Whom do I mean? She, the savior of our company and possibly of all humankind. Only she can reproduce Ambrosia in its original form. If we are only allowed to use her memories or her brain, that would be enough. The reservoirs are gradually being used up and the diluted versions may last only fifty years. Without them, humanity will become extinct.
"Silk woven from stardust," he explained instead.
He would get down to business soon enough.
"It is too fine for the machine. Only a master weaver can make this fabric." The girl's laughter died away. The Empress looked up. The dress slipped from her grasp and trickled onto the carpet. "Stardust?"
She tilted her head. "Agrippina, does the man mean Star Moths?"
The colorless one nodded. Cecilius' heart beats faster. The briefest relief clung on a thread washed from his face. He drew air sharply and lets it escape slowly. Then he counted to ten to calm himself and not lose consciousness on the spot.
"He's degrading her work!" The empress accusingly jumped to her feet. "These animals have created something so beautiful and he denies their existence!"
"I don't!" Cecilius wondered where he went wrong. "Silk spun by Star Moths from stardust. Wonderful animals who created something magnifique!"
The Empress stopped listening to him. She stepped down the stairs and stopped two steps before Cecilius. She looked him in the eye. He avoided her gaze. Close to tears, sweaty and panicked. The image of the lifeless seventeen-year-old's body crept in the back of his mind. Would Cecilius also be dragged along the carpet dead in moments? Everyone knew about the unpredictability of the Empress. So why did he seek her out? Was it his arrogance? Had Cecilius given himself too much credit?
No, it was an emergency. In just fifty years, people would be dying like flies if research into Ambrosia 2.0 proved fruitless. But why did he assume a child of her age could understand this? The Empress clapped her hands. Hundreds of guards flooded the throne room.
"AWAY WITH HIM!" the Empress screeched, "AWAY WITH HIM!"
"No, you can't do this!" Cecilius panicked, his shrilling voice bounding off the walls. "You can't kill me! That's illegal! My company needs me! Humanity needs me! They need Eden Indigo!"
The Empress hopped the steps back to the throne like in a video game; one hop to the left, one hop to the right, two hops to the right, three left, and four right.
The guards grabbed Cecilius by the arms. He flailed, yelled, kicked and rolled his eyes. One punch. A shot in the left leg. He sank to his knees and was taken outside. Hundreds of feet to the exit, which the Empress could overlook from her throne.
Cecilius thought of Mia. Without an owner, her software would be reset and resold. He didn't know which pained him more. Her loss, the failed attempt to save his company, or his damn leg.
The gate slammed shut. Agrippina and the young Empress were alone. Eagerly, the girl pounced on the fabric, stirred in it, fished for it, and finally managed to grab it.
"A beautiful piece," remarked the colorless one, "It shines like the light of the stars."
The girl put the dress on. It clung to her like a second skin. She turned and the fabric followed with wide waves. She stopped. The skirt continued to swirl in slow motion, then slowly popped back into its original shape. During the process, it formed many folds, in which the children's eyes recognized the most fantastic images. The girl jumped down all the steps at once. Gravity led her feet to the ground. A law that the silk defied. The child wrapped her arms around herself and laughed.
"Wonderful. This is a great gift! I hereby declare the Star Moths to be sacred animals. I want to write a law!"
"Yes, Empress."
A few moments later, the girl was sitting on the throne again, a holographic screen in front of her.
With this decree, if anyone dares kill a Star Spinner, shall meet their deadly faith, signed ...
Caligula.