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“—so I think Ihan is my favourite. Their power-set is just really cool with those glowy eyes, and I can’t wait to find out what happened to their brother.”
Ratthi nodded along in response to Amena’s enthusiastic description. “I do like Ihan,” he agreed. “But I think Tatian is my favourite.”
Normally, being trapped in a small, cramped space elevator from an alien-remnant infected planet with humans would be a nightmare. And honestly, in many respects, it still was. But my humans were at least making an effort to keep it from being as awful as it could be.
Martyn was deep in the feed, reviewing some documents from the colonists. Karime was asleep; in the 200-odd hours I had known them, I had been made aware of their truly astonishing ability to nap literally anywhere. That left only Amena and Ratthi to talk, and the topic of discussion they had opted for was Miracles of Sunset City, an action adventure show the combined Perihelion and Preservation teams were watching together in what was ostensibly a team-bonding exercise, but which I know was just ART’s way of collecting more data for its media-processing algorithm.
Honestly, it was pretty fun.
“What about you, SecUnit?” Amena asked. “Who’s your favourite?”
“The frog,” I said.
“The frog,” repeated Ratthi.
I nodded.
“The frog can’t be your favourite,” said Amena.
“Why not?”
“It’s not even a character, it’s just like, a silly animal mascot!”
“It’s funny,” I said. “And the way it hopped on the villain in episode 4 and pushed them into the acid was cool.”
Ratthi tilted his head. “It’s got you there.”
Amena sighed a long suffering sigh. “Fine, fine, the frog’s cool. But who’s your actual favourite human character? Or alien, or robot,” she amended quickly, remembering that about 1/4th of the cast weren’t actually humans.
If I have to be talking about stuff, I’d prefer to be talking about media. So in order to encourage this behaviour in Amena, I decided to give a serious answer to her question. “Sebby,” I decided.
“Oooh! I like Sebby!” agreed Ratthi.
“Because he has the same fashion sense as you,” I said.
He grinned and shrugged. “Great minds.”
Amena looked thoughtful. “You do both wear a lot of pink.”
“And talk a lot,” I grumbled.
This would prove to be a mistake. Amena turned her gaze back at me (or my drone). “Okay, yeah, that’s a good point. What do you like about Sebby so much?”
“I dunno. Why does it matter?”
“Cuz he’s not your type of favourite character at all!”
“And you know so much about my taste in fictional characters.”
“I can guess.” She held up her hand and started counting off fingers. “Broody, grumpy, self-serious...”
Ratthi, who had been making noises in an apparent attempt to get Amena to knock it off, made a noise like a strangled laugh. I sighed. He said, “To be fair, that does describe Eden, and they’re your favourite Sanctuary Moon character.”
“Says who?”
“Well, considering the fact you apparently used the name as pseudonym...”
Oh. Right. I’d forgotten he knew about that.
“But it’s fine,” Ratthi said, in the tone I’d come to think of as his lecture voice. “SecUnit can like whichever characters it likes, it doesn’t have—”
Amena cut him off with, “I know it doesn’t, I’m just saying, it’s weird. Sebby is chatty and loud and constantly throws himself into danger. SecUnit hates that.”
“Things that are fun in fiction can still suck in reality,” I said. Like, for example, talkative adolescent humans.
Honestly, though, that’s where the conversation could have ended. Ratthi had given an excellent out. But for some reason, my mouth continued on to say, “Sebby doesn’t have a love interest.”
“Mmn?” Ratthi said, while Amena went, “What?”
“No romance sub-plot.”
“I should have guessed,” Amena said. “You hate anything to do with feelings~”
That was just unfair. “That’s unfair. Sebby has plenty of feelings.” The big show-down at the end of episode 8 where he turned an entire beach into glass with his screams was proof of that. “They just don’t have anything to do with sex or romance.”
Ratthi was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Amena was looking at me side-long. Not a bad look, exactly, but like I had just said my favourite thing about a piece of power armour was the smell.
“Characters always end up in romantic sub-plots. Especially if the show goes on long enough. They find their soul-mate, or some love triangle or dodechedron, or get this long drawn out will-they-or-won’t they and the answer is always ‘they will’ it’ll just take four seasons to get there. It’s so boring and repetitive.”
“Romance arcs aren’t that common, surely?” Amena said, but she looked doubtful.
“I once calculated the percentage of primary and secondary characters involved in romance plots.” It had been a particularly boring contract. “It came out to 82.5%. Do you want to see my working?”
She waved me off. “No no, I believe you, I’m good.”
Settling back in the chair, Ratthi still looked thought curious. “That does seem pretty high, all told. Is it more common in CR serials than in Preservation?”
“Maybe,” I conceded. I had never gotten bored and/or desperate enough since becoming a free agent to run the statistical analysis on Preservation media. “There’s always a ratings boost whenever a big couple gets together or breaks up or gets back together again. So I’m used to it happening when the writers are desperate to win back some viewers.”
“Even if it doesn’t even make sense,” Ratthi said, finishing my thought off for me. I suspected he was thinking about Season Four of Sanctuary Moon, where their resolution to the fleet captain’s storyline had ter retiring young to go raise a family on an agriculture planet. They’d had to do something to get ter out of the plot, because the actor’s contract had gotten bought by another studio, but they could have done something more elegant than that. Ratthi and I had complained about it before.
Tugging on her hair, Amena said, “That does sound pretty annoying.”
“And that’s not even the most frustrating part,” I said, not having meant to go on but the rant seemingly having developed a will of its own. “No, the worst part is when a character says they’re not interested in romance.”
She blinked. “What’s wrong with that?”
My eyes rolling so hard I was afraid they’d fall out of my sockets, I said, “Because that’s the narrative setting things up to explain why they should be interested in romance.”
Amena’s eyes went wide with recognition. “Ohhhhh. Like when the girl from What I Did Last Winter said she absolutely wasn’t interested in dating—”
“— and ended up in a throuple,” finished Ratthi.
I hadn’t seen What I Did Last Winter— based on the description, it didn’t sound like my usual thing— but I nodded. “Yeah, exactly like that. They’ll say they were burned in an old relationship, but that just is to make it more ‘rewarding’ when they finally open up to love. Or that sex is boring, but then they’ll meet the one. Or it’s just some trauma they have to get over or—” I shook my head. “I’ve seen it play out a dozen times. I’m sick of it.”
Ratthi’s hand fluttered the way peoples’ did when they wanted to reach out to touch me but held themselves back. “Don’t blame you,” he said to my drone, instead, and Amena nodded along.
The lift began to rumble the way it did as it came up to dock at the station. Martyn blinked as he pulled himself out of the feed, and even Karime began to shift. ART’s feed began to seep in at the periphery of the awareness. That was the end of the conversation.
Or so I thought.
Amena waited until we were back on ART to continue it. (Which I appreciated. Boarding and off-boarding the planetary station was still the most dangerous part of this whole thing, because we knew that Barrish-Estranza were keeping a close eye on us, and there was a non-zero chance they might make some sort of attack). As she went to get a hot drink, she asked over the feed, [You really don’t care about any of that romance stuff, do you?]
Wary of where this was going, I said, [No.]
[Huh. I mean, I know Second Mom had said you weren’t into that kind of thing but...]
[You didn’t believe her?] I was in my cabin, swapping out to a new set of clothes, and trying to ignore the way ART was raising its metaphorical eyebrows at the conversation.
[No no, I did. It’s just...] Over the cameras in the kitchen, I saw her pause as she stirred a hot drink. [Back home, at school, that feels like it’s what everyone cares about. Finding dates and stuff. I guess I just found it weird to think people just might... not care about any of that.]
I had nothing to say to that.
Amena, apparently, still had more to say, though. [You don’t think Sebby will end up in a relationship after all, do you? I mean, we are still only on the second season...]
[He will not,] ART said, deciding to finally join properly.
[And how do you know?] Amena asked as she finally started drinking.
[I checked,] ART said, unbearably smug.
I hadn’t asked it to do that. But it had noticed me bracing for the near-inevitable disappointment, and it had offered. Even explained how it wouldn't ruin its enjoyment of the show, because it could just go and delete all other information about future plot points from its memory to preserve the surprised. (Technically, I could do that too, but it didn't work. My neural tissue remembered it too well, as some early experiments from a time with restricted entertainment feeds had proven.)
[The show’s only four seasons,] I explained to Amena. [Sebby stays single the whole way through.]
[Oh!] Amena said. [Well, good!]
Now the only thing I’d need to worry about was whether or not Sebby got revenge on the Empress who destroyed his family. You know. Actually interesting stuff.