Page 33 of Bound By Stars
“Good one.” He nods, eyes widening as he fully takes her in. “I’m Tarak. Or Tar. I answer to both.”
“I am Individualized Life Support Assistant unit 001.” She flashes him a swooped line, like a smile. “You may refer to me as ILSA.”
“Well, ILSA, I am thoroughly impressed by both your physical and emotional capacities.”
Most humans treat ILSA like an inanimate drone, but she’s far more complex than that. I would know—I developed her AI myself, allowing her to self-select training material and add to her database of personality traits through observation. Still, her continuous development always surprises me—as much as finding another likable Elysian.
We join Asha, who’s depositing the mini-bots into a pen inside the lab. “Tar, this is Wes. Wes, Tar. He works in here most of the time.”
“Did you build them yourself?” I place the one in my hands into the enclosure. It tucks its rabbit ears and curls back into a ball, rolling to join the pile. The little bots huddle together like real animals trying to conserve body heat.
“100 percent.”
“They’re amazing. What are they made of?”
“It’s a new material they’re testing on Mars. Isn’t it fantastic? I made prototypes out of silicone first, but the texture was a little unsettling.”
“And her?” He nods toward ILSA.
“An alloy of carbon fiber and titanium,” I answer, pleased to find someone who can carry a normal conversation on this ship. “Interested in life-support tech?”
“Nah. I’m pretty focused on companion bots. Studies show that living with a companion animal is beneficial to human health. And they talk less than people.”
On the other side of the pen, Asha sucks her teeth, but it does nothing to mask the obvious pride written on her face.
“That data is correct,” ILSA confirms, bumping the side of the enclosure as she inspects the bundle of creature-bots.
Tarak turns to her. “But these are hypoallergenic and produce no waste. Much more practical for habitat living and space travel.”
“Bunnadillos on the loose again?” Jupiter enters the lab and scans the room. His eyes land on me.
Warmth blooms in my belly, and I immediately hate myself.
Control yourself, Weslie. Sure, he took your side in class, but it’s more likely he did it to embarrass his ex than stick up for Earthers. He’s still a Big Six heir. Do not forget that.
Tarak scratches his head. “It’s only happened a couple of times. I was testing their connection and how they react as a group. Or warren, if you consider them more rabbit than armadillo. But if you—”
“Let’s go.” Asha pushes her brother toward the lab door. “There was that thing I needed to show you in the library.”
“What thing?” He twists to look back at ILSA as he catches the edge of the doorway. “It was good to meet you both. Would love a demo sometime, ILSA. Oh, and Wes, I absolutely need to ask you about her code—”
Asha shoves him through to the hall, smiling apologetically and mashing the button so it slides shut between us, cutting off Tarak’s voice.
“So where do we start?” Jupiter sets his bag on a nearby stool.
His voice is so…genuine. Annoyingly kind. His temper seems so mild he could hardly raise his volume when I knocked his drawings into the dirt on Earth or muster up a little hatred after I accused him of being a spoiled prince in the escape pod bay. If it’s an act, it must be exhausting to pretend to be that sweet all the time. And still, it ignites an irrational rage inside of me.
As soon as anyone hears I worked with him, ILSA will becomehissuccess, and I’ll become a charity case. Another Elysian saving a hopeless Earther.
At the opposite side of the room, next to a wide circular window and far away from where Jupiter put his stuff down on an empty table, I wave ILSA over and lay my backpack on the surface.
Jupiter follows, pulling out a stool across from me.
“You. Over there.” I point across the room.
I should never have agreed to this. Legitimately nice or not, he’s getting his cushy future handed to him just for being born. I worked for mine, and I’m not going to let him mess it up for me. This ismywin.
He hesitates. “I was thinking I could—”
