Entry 39

“An android world?” I asked with a frown.

“Some androids choose to go there in the end,” Blaue commented with a serious face. “Prejudices run deep in the universe. On their planet they don’t have to deal with that. Everyone is equal there.”

“Separate but not equal,” John responded, causing Blaue to frown and Ven to glance at him. Clearly neither of them understood the reference.

“In Earth history, there was a time in the country of America where people with darker tinted skin were not allowed to go to school with or eat at the same places as people with lighter tinted skin,” John explained. “The rational was that they would have separate but equal facilities. But separate never means equal. If you treat a people like a second class citizen then their facilities will be second class as well. It was called segregation.”

“What does skin coloration matter?” Ven asked with a frown. “That is idiotic.”

“And some think circuitry or nerves, what does it matter?” Blaue responded with a pointed glance in Ven’s direction.

“It makes a world of difference, Blaue,” Ven answered sharply. “I wish you would stop confusing our new guest who is new to such ideas.” He motioned to me, and I scowled.

“You’re not confusing me, and don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” I scowled at him.

“Ven often forgets anyone but himself exists,” Blaue said turning to me with a smile. “I’m sure you must be tired. Perhaps it would be best if you go to bed?”

“It has been a long day,” I admitted. I had eaten all of the food Ven had given me, and now that my stomach was full I was beginning to feel a bit drowsy.

“I think bed would be best,” John agreed with Blaue. “We can then discuss our future tomorrow after we are well rested and have had time to dwell on things.”

“Well, you know where your rooms are,” Ven said. “Come back here if you get hungry or just want to go somewhere other than your room. Don’t wander around the ship.” I nodded for at the moment I had no intention of wandering around the ship. I was tired. I had started the day thinking I was on Earth with my family and now I was in a strange spaceship. It had been a long day.

“I’ll open the rooms for you,” Blaue said, rising to her feet, but Ven motioned for her to stop.

“Stay here, Blaue. We need to talk,” Ven said. Blaue sighed but took her seat again.

“I can still open the rooms for you,” Blaue reminded me. “I’ll sense when you’re near your room and let you in.”

“Thank you, Blaue,” I said, getting to my feet. John got to his feet and moved quickly to my side. “For everything. Thank you too, Ven. I’m glad I’m still not in that zoo. Thanking you for letting me take John with us.”

“I’m just doing my job, Carlee,” Ven responded. “This isn’t about you personally. It’s about the mission. The Society can’t simply abduct people from their planets and tear them from their lives. It’s not right.” I simply nodded, not wanting to rise in response to another one of Ven’s passionate speeches. I was tired. I wanted to go to bed.

John escorted me from the mess and to my room. The wall opened before me, just as Blaue had promised, revealing the purple room.

“Thank you, Carlee,” John said as he hugged my goodnight. “Thank you for convincing that man not to leave me behind.”

“I could never leave you behind,” I responded, hugging him tightly. “You’re all I have, John. I don’t care if you’re an android.”

“I’m glad,” John answered, releasing me. “Now go to bed. We’ll talk about everything in the morning.”

“Night, John,” I said stepping into my room.

“I love you, Carlee. Goodnight,” John called after me.

“I love you too,” I answered, just before the wall closed. Then I was alone, but it was alright. I knew John was just a room away, like he had been all my life.

Moments later, I was warm under the blankets in the bunk, fast asleep.

Entry 22

Ven strolled through the halls of the Society of Anthropologists with confidence, as if he was one of the myriads of anthropologists who had every right to be present for the symposium. He had said he was part of the organization that worked against the Society’s ways, which made me wonder if this anti-anthropologist society taught classes in how to act like an anthropologist. I was sure I looked exactly like I was, an escaped Zoo specimen.

I was sure my clothes gave me away. I was wearing faded blue jeans, a green Johnny Cupcake’s shirt, and black Reeboks. I looked like any other American teenager. Ven’s outfit looked nothing like American style. I should have noticed that when he first rescued me, but I suppose I was distracted by his dashing looks. He wore a navy blue three-quarters sleeved jacket that seemed to be made of leather over a gray shirt. The shirt was nicer than a t-shirt but not quite the quality as a button up shirt. His slacks were black and seemed as durable as jeans, though I doubted they were denim. His shoes were bright red, as if to offset the drabness of the rest of his outfit. He would have stood out like a sore thumb on Earth – I mean really, who wears a three quarter’s sleeve jacket? – but in the hall of the Society of Anthropologists his outfit was one of the more tame. He fit in much better than I did. I was sure I would be caught.

“How much longer until we get there?” I could not help but ask. Ven looked back at me with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

“We’ve barely been walking five minutes,” he answered. “Be patient, Carlee. You’re acting like you’re twelve.”

“I’m fifteen,” I retorted. “And I’m acting like any other fifteen-year-old would when she is worried about her big brother.” My words caused Ven to sigh and shake his head.

“It’s not your brother, Carlee,” he said. “I can’t express that enough. It’s just a machine. It’s not a person.”

“Data is a person,” I snapped, causing Ven to frown.

“Data is definitely not a person,” he responded. “It’s a usually the results of science, experimentation, or analysis.” I did not bother to explain. I did not have time to explain Star Trek to a man who had never heard about it and who probably could not care less. I had a brother to save.

“Why are you so against me having my brother?” I asked. “Even if he is just an android, he’s still my possession, isn’t he? A person is allowed to have possessions. You have your ship.”

“Yes, a person is allowed to have possessions,” Ven said. “But the human colony does not allow androids. There are strict android regulations in the universe. The Android Acts, they’re called. You won’t be able to bring your android to the human colony.”

“Then I won’t go,” I responded, appalled. “Why would they not allow androids?”

“There are many reasons,” Ven answered, suddenly speaking passionately. “Androids take away jobs from hardworking sentients who need the work and money to support their families. Having an android near you is like having a constant spy watching you. Whoever owns the android can ask it to report on your activities or download its memories of you. It’s a violation of sentients’ rights. They are disturbing replicas of sentients meant to fool and trick innocent sentients into trusting them, like you trust your android. A person should never trust a machine more than they trust people. An android is just another part of technology that works to de-sentientize the galaxy. Androids go against nature. Nothing natural creates working replicas of itself to do its work for them. Androids are unnatural, immoral, and wrong.”