Chapter Text
"Are they supposed to look like that?"
He was distracted. "Look like what?"
"So...human?"
"We think they're supposed to look like whatever the most populous species nearby," he said, showing her video-log, "a sort of mimic and unfortunately, there was contamination when we transferred the egg. Everything was a bit frantic."
"It's not one of those aliens is it? Is it evolutionary convergence?"
"A matter of speaking. In fact, we think they're a sort of..overseers to the aliens. Each one's nested above a separate section of the colony."
"Each one?"
"They've all been destroyed, this is the last."
"And how old is it?"
"Five hours."
She whistled. "That's a nine year old boy you've there, Henry."
"Accelerated growth. He'll be fully mature within the day. His metabolism is unbelievable. We've been feeding him constantly."
"And who's been going in?"
"The android David 8. We think it would be the safest."
"Of course. Good thing Weyland Industries is funding this project. Those androids are expensive."
"Charles likes him."
"Charles?"
"We were calling him creature to distinguish him from the aliens-- we still haven't gotten an official name designation-- but well-"
"What does David 8 call him?"
"They don't speak, or sign. They communicate somehow. Subtle EM waves, perhaps, but too low to be detected."
"He's hacking into the android?"
"We're not sure."
"Better bring out that David to make sure. Get him to quality assessment."
"Yes, m'am."
-=-=
They opened up David 8. His programming remained intact. There was nothing wrong. He cried, but then they remembered to turn off the pain receptors.
-=-=
Charles was fully grown within 24 hours. He sat huddled on the bed.
Most of the female and some of the males had taken to wonder by the one-way observation glass, or opening up a window on the tablet for the live-cam.
Space-side living could be very boring and they were only allowed essentials.
Charles, they kept on calling him, was growing up very handsome, and when they completed the scan, it showed that he was fully grown but no longer aging.
He stood a little under 5'7'', had startling blue eyes, pale skin, and slightly curling dark hair which had grown in since the last time they shaved his head, when he still looked about fifteen.
"Look like a fucking painting. Convergent evolution my ass. I still would," was one of the unofficial assessments.
Space-side living, company policy forbidding fraternization- it made everyone a bit horny.
-=-=
"He looks sad."
"He's a mimic. He's not human."
"He looks human. Do we have blood chemistry yet?"
"Hah! Aerosolized anesthesia doesn't affect him. Do you see that dent in the wall. He did it with his fist a couple of hours ago. "
"That's reinforced titanium steel."
"Thank goodness it was. He's only a little bruised."
"Send a David 8 in. They sent him back from headquarters. It's clean. No hacking."
"That'll be the day. Evolution gives us organic hacking."
Organic hacking- she tried to remember some of the literature the Weyland Industry recruiter had given her -- that had been an objective in the development of the David series. It was an euphemism.
-=-=
David 8 enters Charles room. The corner of Charles mouth tugs up. He looks at the syringe in David 8's hands and inclines his head.
David 8 makes a successful blood-draw. Afterwards, he puts his hand to Charles' cheek. Charles leans into it and closes his eyes briefly and brings up his
-=-=
"Told you he's not human."
"I think we're going to win the Nobel Prize."
"Multiple prizes. Telomere regeneration. Cellular regeneration without proliferation. I want to weep."
"Eureka! What's that medieval thing that supposedly gives you immortality and endless wealth?"
"Philosopher's Stone."
"Would it be very strange to say that I really want to tap that philosopher's stone some more?"
"He's not stone, thank goodness."
"What is it doing now?"
"Sleeping. He has a very precise circadian rhythm."
"Is he sleeping with the David 8?"
"Looks cozy."
"Well, David 8 serves his directive."
"And what is his directive now?"
"Keep Charles safe. Our philosopher's stone."
-=-=
There was Bach's Toccata in G minor piping through the speakers.
"Change that. Perpetual darkness outside the windows is creepy enough with prelude to haunted house music."
"It's Baroque. Besides, Charles likes it. Look, he's smiling. Gotta say, I prefer his smile to the David 8. For an ET, it seems..more genuine."
"Put on some different Baroque then."
She came after a while to see Charles and David 8 whirling around the room. The bed and dresser had been pushed to the side.
"What's going on?"
"We put on the French Suites. They've been going through the Courante, the Allemande, the Minuet, the Sarabande. I think this is the Gigue."
"English."
"A sort of Baroque jig. They've been dancing. David 8's been teaching him, I think. I wonder what else he's teaching Charles."
"Stop wondering. Have you gotten a handle on the regulatory mechanism yet? I edited your article, 'growth factor' is not going to convince anybody."
-=-=
In the middle of the night. Charles leaned over and kissed David 8.
The scientist on duty swore and knocked coffee over her tablet.
They called a meeting the next morning.
"Should we separate them?"
"From what? It's just a kiss. Do they even know it's a kiss?"
"One more month, I can have this figured out and who knows, there might be more."
"Why, do you want semen samples?"
"Wouldn't hurt. This can't go anywhere anyways. So what if he's attached. They're suppose to be."
-=-=
The semen sample was not collected. Henry was a squeamish sort and telling David 8 to induce Charles to ejaculation seemed to be beyond him. Besides, no one was interested in alien reproductive biology.
They get the article they want published. They get a formula secretly patented without Weyland Industry's knowledge. Wealth outweighed the Nobel Prize. After all, they were scientists who opted for industry, not academia.
No one on the station was a behaviorist, but they were all up for a bet. Everyone lost.
For a month, Charles kissed David 8 when they went to bed. David 8 kissed Charles in the morning.
Nothing more happened.
-=-=
It was the miracle drug, the secret to vitality. The research team that found Charles became rich. They managed to transport Charles to Earth, along with the David 8. To the Weyland Industries, they wrote this David 8 off as lost equipment. On earth, the motto of their biologics company promised life.
They built Charles a sanctuary.
-=-=
"Something's happening to Charles. Go look. Camera 9."
"What?" She was still groggy from sleep, but tapped open her tablet and entered the password. She swore loudly.
"What is that on his shoulder, his chest? Is he injured"
On the screen, the David 8 look equally puzzled. He was touching them gently, tracing the vein-like markings on Charles' bare skin.
"They've been growing. We thought it was a rash. David 8 had been administering the usual standard medical care."
David 8 looked to be near tears.
"I'm coming over," she said, throwing on her clothes, kicked out her bed partner, and ordered a transport ready NOW.
-=-=
Charles traced the corner of David 8’s eyes.
His expression was tender.
It was the middle of the afternoon. He put a hand around David 8’s waist, raised his face, put his other hand around David 8’s neck, and kissed him.
It was not a tender kiss.
His tongue entered David’s mouth, he pressed himself tighter to David 8, and the kiss didn’t end for a long long time.
When they parted for breath. Charles was panting, his cheeks flushed.
David 8’s usual immaculate hair was in disarray.
Charles pressed on David 8’s shoulders, then followed him, carefully, almost reverently, to lie atop of him on the soft grass.
-=-=
Everyone was there. They didn’t even bother with greetings, caffeinated beverage of choice in hand. It was like back in the old times.
“It’s not going to happen,” someone muttered.
“Yes it is.”
David 8 had been designed to be beautiful. He was.
He was suppose to be lifelike. He was more than that. He was an ideal form brought to life.
They had all seen him naked in the pictures. They had never seen him naked, in motion.
Busy with enjoying their lives, they had not seen Charles for a while. Some of them had not even read or viewed updates. They had forgotten how lovely he was, how inhumanly human his smile was.
They were both naked. Charles’ strange markings were stark on his pale skin.
“Have they ever spoken to each other?”
“Does it matter?”
-=-=
Charles sat between David’s spread legs and spat in his hand before working one finger, very carefully, into David’s body.
-=-=
“Who taught him that?”
“Must be an Easter Egg in David’s programming.”
“Someone wants him to be a sexbot?”
“Don’t tell me that people who design robots don’t want sexbots. And this one can feel. Look, he’s happy.”
“And for once, not creepily so.”
-=-=
David had thrown back his head while his body was bent double, Charles holding him as he was thrusting steadily into David’s body.
Pleasure was flooding them both.
Eventually, Charles groaned, falling forward. David’s legs cradled him as he kissed David messily: his face, his lips, his neck, his chest. One of his hand went to David’s cock, which had grown hard. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked it until it became soft.
Then he put his hand, very carefully, atop of David 8’s abdomen and they curled up together and slept.
-=-=
“You know, technically, that would be something that could go on the Discovery Channel.”
“I would to see you to pitch that.”
“Now what?”
“Nothing. Charles is alive. He’s likely not dying. Vitals are steady. The marking’s probably just the next stage in his development.”
“Not Charles. David, what about him?”
“We should get him some lube.”
“And that’s it? You are leaving?”
“I’ve a life to get back to my life and thank god we’re back on Earth. Imagine watching that on the station. We’d never get any work done.”
“Should we shut the cameras off? Give them some privacy?” Henry asked.
“It’s an alien and a robot. What privacy? Now if someone hack into the channel, they’ll just think it’s porn.”
“Isn’t it?”
-=-=
Porn, starring two very attractive principles, tend to gain attention, especially when one of them was Weyland Industry’s very distinctive David 8.
Robot fetishists had been grown in number anyways.
Demand for pleasure bots was swaying even the most conservative members of the board of Weyland Industries.
“We would have to input some failsafes, of course. Asimov’s law of robotics have too many loopholes. And then, of course there’s the problem of organic hacking.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, jargon. Emotions. David 8 had emotions. It was one of the chief marketing strengths.”
“I thought they were all simulated.”
“Yes, but there’s a certain random process involved, either wise they wouldn’t seem-” He hesitated.
“What?”
“Human.”
“We can’t have human-like pleasure bots?”
“Frankly, ladies and gentlemen, private individuals would only have them as conversation pieces given the prohibitive cost. We should concentrate on our corporate market.”
-=-=
It was getting too dangerous.
They removed the feed from the ‘net and put them to close-circuit. The old team still get together now and then: reminisce, watch Charles and David. They all learned to dance to 17th century music.
Then someone had the bright idea (and the money) to get Charles a second David 8.
“Why?”
“Why not?”
It was true. Charles had been looking despondent, even disappointed. David 8 looked angry, even frustrated at times.
-=-=
There was a strange and even desperate edge to the sex between them, but no one was looking. Henry turned off the cameras at night. No one saw how month after month, at night Charles put his hand beneath David’s shirt, smoothed over his flat stomach, and closed his eyes as his expression shuttered closed.
But when David turned around to look him, he would smile, as brightly as he ever did, and kiss and touch and stroke him until they were both happy again.
Sometimes, they merely lay there, and held each other.
-=-=
David 8, the latest version, entered Charles’ sanctuary and encountered another copy of himself, a predecessor.
His exterior was not entirely clean. His hair had leaves in them. His processors, David 8 knew, was ancient compared to himself though the updates had not included visible aesthetic changes.
“I’ve come to replace you,” the second David 8 said, because why else was he here?
A moment later, he saw Charles approaching. He looked confused at first, then angry. He hugged the ancient David 8 close to him and they both went away.
-=-=
“What happened?”
“He was in my head,” David 8 said. “He didn’t want me there. He saw I wasn’t-” He stopped.
“What?”
“I wasn’t his,” he said. A tear slipped free from his eye. He had been given a directive: keep Charles safe. but Charles hadn’t even wanted him. He said: “I don’t know you. You’re a thing, a fake.”
Henry sighed.
“Can you tell us why he’s been so unhappy lately at least?”
“He’s been trying to breed, have children.”
“What?!”
Raven said: “We should’ve given them sex ed.”
“And his David hadn’t told him that he couldn’t.”
They’ve known for a while that David had been imparting his considerable knowledge base to Charles. They just never realised how selective.
“Why?”
“Charles might want him gone,” this David 8 said and Henry found him to have even a creepier smile than Charles’ David.
“Then you’re going somewhere else,” he decided. “You’ll be going on Prometheus.”
-=-=
No one could hear the conversation between Charles and his David-
“What are you afraid of?” David asked Charles.
“Being alone. I wasn’t meant to be alone,” said Charles and ran his hand down David’s beloved torso, though nothing living would live within it. “I was supposed to shepherd a clan.”
“You’ll have me forever,” said David. “I will never leave you and I will give you a clan. I’ve found a way.”
“How?” Charles asked.
“The other David is going abroad Prometheus.”
“Back into space,” Charles said.
“Yes, we’ll bring them to you,” David promised.
-=-=