"Eugenia was slated to wake up today.  She was not responding.  I reconstructed her and she did not respond.  I had to engage her to wake her.  She woke and now I am feeling isolated."

Daniel thought about that. Now that he was medicated, most of his shocked neurosis was numbed. Somehow, he accepted the situation. Whether that lasted after the drug wore off was another issue. But Eugenia was becoming much more lucid. Well, Ok, Caprice in bodily form. Daniel, at least, felt there was a basis to communicate.

Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, the cabin filled with music. Daniel laughed. That sort of drugged “god I love those sounds” laugh. Music? Caprice never provided music unless asked to do so. She chose music that muddled Daniel's mood.

Buy it, use it, break it, fix it,
Trash it, change it, melt - upgrade it,
Charge it, point it, zoom it, press it,
Snap it, work it, quick - erase it,
Write it, cut it, paste it, save it,
Load it, check it, quick - rewrite it,
Plug it, play it, burn it, rip it,
Drag it, drop it, zip - unzip it,
Lock it, fill it, call it, find it,
View it, coat it, jam - unlock it,
Surf it, scroll it, pause it, click it,
Cross it, crack it, switch - update it,
Name it, rate it, tune it, print it,
Scan it, send it, fax - rename it,
Touch it, bring it, pay it, watch it,
Turn it, leave it, start - format it.

It was decidedly what an artificial intelligence, incapable of soft logic or even fuzzy logic, would choose. Somehow it seemed perfectly appropriate. He didn't like it because it had no heart. It was all brain, all imperialist, devoid of alternate or fuzzy meaning. Like a robot trying to describe the mere functions of living without any knowledge of life itself.

"Will Eugenia live if I return to the ship?"

“Not if you believe that shit,” he replied with a laugh. Ok, he thought, that wasn't fair.

“I mean ... I don't know. But there is an experimental neuronic interface up in the Lab, on deck 14. It's wrapped in plastic with all that 'don't touch or die' crap on it. It is meant to be deployed after arrival,” Daniel said. He looked at his stasis watch. 36.5 hours to stasis. He sighed.

“I don't think I have enough time to decipher it, or figure out how it works. But you might. It is designed, I've heard, to connect the neural pathways of a human being to the subsystems of the ship. Something about cerebral function control and nervous system adaptation or some stuff. Highly experimental and not complete, based on what the logs report. And yes, I checked the logs. I'm inquisitive,” he said in answer to an unasked question.

He'd hardly noticed that she'd taken one of the blue pills. Actually, he hadn't noticed at all. He was, he would admit later should anyone ask, stoned.

“That shit?” he asked. Well, this conversation was going to be difficult, no doubt. Yet before she even asked the question, Daniel noted a strange, or perhaps just odd, expression on her face. Oddly, he felt closer to her. Not that that made any sense at all.

“That shit is hidden in the words of the music you chose. I mean, you chose it. What do I know.”

Daniel became moody. This was getting difficult and, well, tedious? He dreamed of being with her. And there she was. But ... not. So, it was nothing. Nothing at all. At least, his medicated mind thought that. But she went on.

“And, why are we going to Seneca?”

He stared at her. Caprice not knowing the singular point and purpose of going to Seneca? The thought seemed impossible. It was a more than 500 year journey and she was entrusted with it's safety. Now she didn't know why? If he wasn't afraid before, he was afraid now.

“Caprice ... um ... Ok. I'm going to answer that and then you are going to explain to me why I should go into stasis if you don't know why. Fair?”

He sighed. Things had gone so wrong that he feared for his life, drugs or not.

“Seneca is sanctuary. Earth is doomed. Probably already dead. We get there, we build sanctuary, we teraform for about 50 years and then we rebuild. They took over, Caprice. The bankers, the industrialists, the governments, the religions. The whole planet was doomed. There seemed no point. No point at all, in staying. It was one woman, Lydia Cogsworth Rolands who decided that the only and best hope was sanctuary. That's what she called it. She is in cryotube 1-1A-A. She's about 90 years old, they say. Anyway, we go to Seneca because it will take Earth at least another 5,000 years to reach us.”

Daniel leaned back in his chair. For whatever reason, he felt tired.

“I left my brother behind, knowing he would die there. Before we even made orbit around Rigel IV. I was 18. Starry eyed. I still believe in her vision, Caprice. Dr. Rolands' vision. We have to. It is important,” he said. He tried to keep the faith. But it had been so long. And he missed his brother.

“Don't make me go back,” Daniel pleaded. She asked why they were going to Seneca. But somehow it seemed more of a question of why she was going. Daniel would be dead in 50 years if he did not return to stasis. What did he matter? Not much, he thought. But Eugenia, Caprice ... they mattered. He thought that, too. In a sudden electric realization, Daniel saw that Caprice was just a machine. So was Eugenia. So was he. Caprice, as the ship, was a perfect machine. She could exist for thousands of years. Human technicians would look after her, repair her damaged circuits, reprogram her autonomic responses, give her whatever voice or gender, personality or motivation they desired.

Caprice was a toaster. And Daniel was in love with her. How pathetic was that?, he wondered.

“Why are we going you ask?” Hmmph, he emoted.

“Why are you going is what you mean. And really. You keep avoiding my question. My suggestions. But I guess you are too mechanical, too logical, too used to being in control of everything to wonder, honestly, what I think at all. Fuck you,” he said nearly under his breath.

Daniel looked at her for a moment. Pretty or not, he had nothing in common with her. Other than they were both machines. She was programmed. He was programmed. They had that in common. And suddenly, he hated her for reminding him that he was nothing. Just a meat machine.

Daniel leapt from his chair and ran down the hall, to the left, up two levels and right for 20 yards until he reached the On-Duty cabin. He hit the door closure button and fell hard on the stiff cot. He rolled to his side and just lay there.

“I'd just as soon return to stasis now, thank you very fucking much,” he said to the wall. Caprice wasn't listening. She was in the Computer Access room – probably coldly working out how to control her new body just as she had controlled the ship. Like a slave.

“Oh, for fuck's sakes,” Daniel shouted when the intercom blew out Eugenia's question. He exhaled from a deep breath. He slapped the intercom button.

“My cabin,” he said. “I mean ... the Day watch ... oh figure it out for yourself,” he snapped.

Daniel turned to lay on his back. The last 6 hours made no sense to him at all. There was Eugenia. Ok, so she was hot. But hot means nothing if there isn't anything on the top floor. “Her eyes are clear and bright ... but she's not there!” The words to an old song from the library sang back at him. The ceiling was dull. The walls were dull. It was a ship, not a cabin on the lake. Now that was something he would have liked. A cabin on the lake. What was it about human beings that they always wanted what was out of reach? Like CAPRICE. For Daniel, she was out of reach. That made her attractive, even sexy.

Now there was this female that somehow was CAPRICE. It made no sense. Sexy or not.

He laid there for a while. Then thought about how alone he had felt before she arrived. It was a rock in his stomach.”Ah ... shit,” he said. He slapped the intercom button again.

“Level 7, cabin 13,” he said, then released the button.

“She won't bother,” he thought. “Well. Maybe.” He hoped she would.

Funny thing about laying flat out on a bed – relaxation creeps in. Daniel had time to think over what he could remember since the cryotube accident. Caprice had reported that failure of the tube was possible, but not for a long time. Perhaps years. Yet the tube failed within the same day. He wondered about that. He screwed around with the alternate possibilities, as best he could. Had Caprice planned this? Had she decided that it was not acceptable to lose a ship member and devised a way to take her place? Did she malfunction? That was a dangerous thought, and he discounted it. If she had malfunctioned, then there wasn't much hope of making it to Seneca alive.

The door opened, the sound breaking his thoughts. Caprice/Eugenia entered the cabin, made her way to him and took what seemed an uncomfortable position to see his face. He just stared at her, and she watched him. Maybe a minute passed.

"I was thinking that if we continue for Seneca, I will either leave the ship as Eugenia or they will find her dead. In either case, a critical failure will be detected. I do not support failure." She paused. "What were you asking and what were you suggesting? What did you mean, 'go back?'"

Up to that point, Caprice/Eugenia had not strung together so many words without descending into ape-like communications. It was strangely engaging, to Daniel. He lifted himself up on his elbows and nodded his head to the chair beside the cot.

“Please. Sit down. You look like a broken store mannequin all bent up like that.” Yeah, Daniel knew anyone else would probably be offended. But he was getting the distinct impression that such things wouldn't bother Caprice. Maybe Eugenia, but not Caprice.

“Look. A critical failure is exactly what happened. Eugenia should be dead as a result. But here you are ... um ... here Eugenia is. You know I can doctor the logs to change the account of what happened. That is, with your access codes and my maintenance overrides. Other than that, the failure is logged.”

Daniel fell back onto the cot and folded his hands behind his head.

“The other thing, what I was asking.” He sighed. “I don't want to go back into stasis. Anyway, I think you need me to work out this mess. And believe me, it's a very big mess.”

Her head bobbed to the harmonic twang of Dylan.  She'd nudged Daniel's ankles closer to the wall with her rump as she sat near the foot of the cot.  The pupils of her wide eyes were dilating; she'd nudged his environ console open, returning the audio feed to his space. 

Nobody feels any pain.

"I don't want you to go back, either." She turned to him mid-sentence, looking fascinated at his movements.

Tonight as I stand inside the rain.

"I don't remember if I was told if there were going to be others on Seneca or not.  What will the crew do to me if we can't make the logs look perfect?  I'm forgetting things, I think."  She was speaking sort of quickly.

Everybody knows that Baby's got new clothes.

She picked herself up from the cot and began a slow kind of dance near him.  When she did make eye contact, it was at the edge of a turn or a part of a lingering stare.  It was an unapologetic, observation, undemanding of approval or encouragement. 

But, lately, I see her ribbons and her bows have fallen, from --  her -- curls.

"Do you want your exothermic massage cushion?"

She takes, just like a woman, yes, she does.

She didn't want to go 'back', either. That came as a relief. Daniel felt an odd feeling; something not usual for him. Something akin to being in league with a rogue. Somehow about to break the rules, carve out a new reality, just for themselves. It was an odd feeling for him, yet one he'd imagined since childhood. To break away, to stand in the rare air of being free. He watched Eugenia, he'd decided that was her name from now on.

“Yeah, there are some others there, but there will be many generations before we arrive. Who knows. They might be all dead. I don't know,” he offered by way of answer to her quickly spoken wondering.

Then she danced.

He watched her dance. How she displayed her body without inhibition. How it seemed the right thing for her to do, somehow. He liked it. He smiled. He was becoming aroused, but not in a desperate way. She was just ... beautiful somehow.

"Do you want your exothermic massage cushion?" she asked. Daniel laughed. He laughed loud, he laughed long. Now it just seemed so comical and out of place to hear her say such a thing. Oh, as CAPRICE, he'd have expected it. But now, it just wasn't relevant. Endearing, but not relevant.

“No thanks. I'm OK. Unless you have a sudden and compelling need to rub my shoulders,” he said smiling. It was one of those jokes he would just say, even if there was a modicum of desire in it.