Marcus’s Point of View
In the great hall where the party was being held, people mingled and chatted as naturally as could be.
On the surface, it looked like a friendly, relaxed atmosphere.
The truth was something else: events like this existed to forge connections and cement ties with the most prestigious and influential families in the federation.
I had just closed a truly fruitful deal with representatives from several mining corporations.
I was in an excellent mood.
The negotiations over the mineral trade had gone better than expected: we’d hit the jackpot when we found enormous adamantium deposits on the planet, something that had immediately drawn the interest of companies in the sector.
Throwing this party for my daughter’s friend, at her request, had turned out to be an excellent idea: it reinforced our authority in front of all the important families on the world of Reach—that was what this planet was called now, the name my daughter chose as her birthday present during our first year here.
I’d given her the chance to give it its official name, and I couldn’t think of a better present than that.
My beautiful daughter thought about it for a long time, suggesting name after name without settling on one: Istars, Milantar, Sofils, Hoshian, Korriban… Unable to choose, she ended up asking her automaton friend, the one she always took with her to play for some reason, almost like a permanent playmate.
I’d gone over his file: his name was Samuel, and he was the leader of all the automatons my wife had bought.
Nothing out of the ordinary in his record; quite the opposite, in fact.
He was excellent at his tasks, although every now and then he behaved in curious ways, like dancing or singing for no apparent reason.
As long as that didn’t interfere with his functions, there was no problem, and his contribution to building the city had been remarkable: creative, and with a natural leadership few models had.
When she finished talking with her robot friend, my daughter came running back to me and gave me a name that, honestly, I thought was pretty good: Reach.
I liked it so much I mentioned it to my wife, she accepted it without hesitation, and so this world was officially christened.
I was lost in those memories, thinking about how adorable my daughter had been as a little girl, when a voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
“How did the negotiations go?”
I turned toward the voice.
It was my wife, Victoria, as beautiful as ever.
“Everything went very well.
I closed an excellent deal.
And how did it go on your end?”
She let out a sigh.
“You could say well.
We agreed on trade deals with the systems closest to us.
God, settling a new colony and building connections from scratch is truly exhausting in the first few years.”
“Heh heh, don’t worry, dear.
You’ll see, over the next few years everything will fall into place.”
“I hope so.
Although I’m still cursing those mummies we have for a council of elders,” she said, her face darkening.
Noticing she was starting to get upset again, I decided to change the subject before the night was ruined.
“Did you know the Helion family organized an automaton event?
Our daughter’s taking part.
I’m really excited to see what she’ll present.”
Luckily for me, it worked: her mood shifted to something more thoughtful.
The Helion family was, without a doubt, one of the most prestigious in the sector, renowned for its manufacture of Titans, naval designs, and construction materials.
And everyone knew, even if nobody said it out loud, that the Helions’ second son, Abel, had a very particular interest in Charlotte.
With the help of Emma, her best friend, he had organized this event with the clear intention of impressing her.
“What do you think of Abel Helion?” Victoria suddenly asked me.
“What do I think?
Well, he’s a good kid.
Excellent at his studies, and he takes an active part in the family business.
“So, do you think he’d be a good match for our daughter?”
My face, which a second earlier had shown approval and even a certain fatherly glow, froze completely.
I did a full one-eighty in an instant, pure horror, as a terrible vision took hold of my mind: my daughter at the altar, signing her vows, exchanging rings with her future husband, leaving forever to live with him, leaving us behind, visiting us barely once every ten years to see how we were doing.
“NOOOOOOOOO!”
“No.
My adorable daughter, my treasure, will not marry anyone until her suitors defeat me in a duel,” I declared, with a defiant look.
“Or maybe they won’t even make it out alive long enough to ask for her hand.
Maybe I should set up a series of obstacles, and only once they’ve cleared them all will I be the final boss.
Heh heh heh heh.”
Victoria watched me as I kept spinning out an endless number of possible futures for each suitor, all of them ending in some kind of terrible fate.
If he kept going down that road, our daughter would never have a husband.
We were about to continue the conversation when a voice interrupted us: the event’s hostess.
She was a beautiful woman, with black hair shot through with bluish highlights, very pale skin, and ice-blue eyes, with a figure that made every gaze in the room land on her instantly.
Including Marcus’s, whose eyes practically popped out of their sockets.
I shot him a murderous look, and he, sensing a truly sinister aura beside him, started breaking out in a cold sweat from sheer nerves.
“Good evening to all our guests.
I hope you’re all having a wonderful time,” she said, addressing the audience.
“My name is Amelia Helion, of the Helion family.
Tonight we’ve organized an event in which the young members of the most important families of our world are taking part.
“The goal of the contest is to design a new frame for automatons, showcasing each participant’s creativity, innovation and personal style, accompanied by a presentation: a short dance, a song, or any other demonstration.
You, the audience, will be the judges of this contest.
Without further ado, let us begin!”
Almost immediately, a runway rose up in the center of the hall, where each participant would show off their creation.
The lights in the room dimmed, and a holographic presentation began displaying the details of the first contestant: Enzo Borgian, presenting his blue automaton with four glowing eyes.
Its functions pointed to a multipurpose robot: administrative office work, operating machinery, serving customers in shops, among other tasks.
For his demonstration, he laid out live the complete plan for a new branch his family was planning to build.
Seeing such a display of functionality, the audience applauded in clear approval.
Next up was Isuke van Omerta, presenting his automaton.
You could feel its footsteps before you even saw it: an imposing colossus.
Its main function was to withstand heavy loads—heavy equipment, hazardous environments—but it could also serve as a guard at penitentiary facilities.
It had a sturdy look, two red eyes, and yellow stripes running down its legs.
For the demonstration, he brought out a bar of reinforced metal and bent it with an ease that left more than one person gaping.
The audience found it an intriguing model, though not exactly an original one: there were obvious similarities to what was already on the market.
Next on the list was Ivan van Omerta, the previous contestant’s brother, who captured everyone’s interest with a much more flexible design, intended for aquatic regions and the vacuum of space.
Its functions included laser welding and repairing electronic components, and the data also showed variants specialized in handling radiation and biohazards.
His design was red, with slender limbs and energy valves visible along the body.
In his demonstration, it assembled several electronic components at a speed that seemed almost impossible.
It was a genuinely novel model; murmurs were already going around among the guests about buying the patent for the design.
The contest went on like that, presentation after presentation, some more impressive than others, until it came down to the last two participants.
Emma Schupelt walked in, and the moment she did, the whole room was left breathless at how elegant and beautiful her design was, intended for personal use: escort and infiltration, with a retractable plasma cannon and the ability to turn invisible for brief periods.
Its base colors were white and pink, chosen by Emma herself, who adored that combination.
For her demonstration, rather than doing it alone, she waited for her friend Charlotte: they wanted to dance together.
The audience was visibly thrown by that unexpected twist.
Victoria and I looked at each other, trying to guess what crazy thing our daughter was planning this time. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
A few minutes later, Charlotte appeared in her beautiful dress and took her place beside her friend.
The audience murmured, wondering where her automaton was, until the answer arrived on its own: heavy footsteps echoed across the floor, and the first thing everyone noticed was the height.
It was, by far, the tallest in the entire contest.
While the other automatons ranged between two and two point three five meters, the market standard, and the biggest ones seen that night barely reached two point seven, this one stood, without exaggeration, a full three meters tall.
It towered over everyone.
The entire room fell silent before the aura it gave off, something that could only be described as born leadership.
The design was completely unique; no one in the federation had ever seen anything like it before.
A few people discreetly took photos of it, meaning to search the net later for a similar model.
They wouldn’t find anything.
It had a pure white frame, with black and blue details, and a single blue central eye.
And when it spoke, its voice sounded exactly like that of someone born to lead.
“Good evening.
I am Samuel, loyal servant of the Sorofia family, leader of the mechanical legions of the world of Reach, and guardian of Miss Charlotte.
The following presentation will be a duet, together with Miss Emma.”
Instantly, the two automatons took their places back to back, right behind Charlotte and Emma.
A few seconds later, a song began to play throughout the room, and the two girls started dancing to the beat of the music, with their automatons following every one of their steps with perfect precision.
The audience watched in amazement as the four figures moved in perfect sync, and when the song’s tempo picked up, neither girl missed a beat for a single instant.
When it ended, the automatons took their places beside their respective mistresses, striking a pose that drew a full ovation from the room.
All the guests, using their devices, began voting for the presentation they’d liked best.
Samuel’s Point of View
Thirty minutes later.
I’ll say it again: being an automaton has its perks.
No sleeping, not feeling heat or hunger, surviving on a simple power cell—all of that is more than enough.
I won’t deny it.
But it also has its downsides, and at this precise moment I have one right under my nose: a table full of food I’ll never be able to taste.
Food only the elite can afford, costing thousands of federal credits a plate: crystal shrimp pasta, rainbow trout, xaers—a kind of giant chicken—and a drorgt steak, from a species of fire-spitting lizard imported from a volcanic world.
Now I understand that whole “appreciate what you have, because you never know when you’ll miss it” thing.
And boy, do I miss it.
With tears in my eyes, literally, if my sensors could produce them.
“Are you hungry, Samuel?
Do you want some from my plate?” Charlotte asked, with a mischievous smile that promised nothing good.
“Don’t worry, miss, I’m fine.
Remember, I’m a machine; I have no need to eat, as you can see.”
“Oh, really?
But last time I gave you a piece of cake, you brought it straight up to your face and ended up with frosting smeared all over it,” she said, showing me a photo of that mortifying day.
“That day I had a malfunction in my arm; that’s what caused the incident,” I replied, rolling my eyes on the inside.
Damn it—that day, when I saw the cake, I wanted to taste it almost instinctively, as if I were still a flesh-and-blood person.
“They’re about to announce the contest results,” Emma said.
“What place do you think we got, Charlotte?”
“Who knows.
Most likely we’re among the top spots,” she replied, with absolute confidence.
“In the end they score the design, the performance, the creativity, and the final presentation.
All we can do now is wait and see how we did.”
English isn’t my first language, so there may be some mistakes or inconsistencies along the way.
I hope you can understand, and thank you for your patience and support!