Chapter 1

Anya Katsinski Finch made her way, deep underground, to the space containing the computer which ... who ... was the administrative intelligence of the planet. She was, in fact, one of only two humans permitted unquestioned access to that space, the other being her husband, Governor Hector (Hex) Finch. “Andromeda...” She spoke aloud, in her normal, pleasant voice.

“Anya! Welcome. What brings you here?”

“I wish a discreet discussion, and if possible I would like this to be without any of your avatars, especially Romy, knowing about it. For the present, anyway. Can that be done?”

A pause, barely noticeable, but long for a sophisticated computer. “It is done. How may I help you?”

“You know that, to all intents and purposes, Romy is wife to Hex and myself.”

“Indeed, though she ... that is I ... regret that ... we ... are unable to fully enter into that relationship.”

“Just so. Now that Andromeda is an independent member of the Federation, though, we can make our own regulations about citizenship, births and marriages. Hex has a lot to think about, and Romy’s status has ... how shall I put it? Hex is a man, and lacks a particular perspective peculiar to women. He loves and needs Romy, quite as much as myself. Indeed, so do I. I am seeking for a way to make her a legal person and, soon, for her to be a mother.”

Another, barely perceptible pause. “It would be possible to lock Romy’s projection. She would have independence, just as she did when accompanying Hex to Earth, and ... an independent, redundant power source ... limited access to my files. She would not be able to dematerialise and reappear anywhere upon this planet. That is, she would be subject to the same limitations of living as yourself, other than better access to communications and information. I had techniques to permit her to carry a baby to term anyway, but now, having learned so much about humans, I believe I can do better. I am assuming that the child would be corporeal, rather than a projection?”

“I assumed so.”

“So how would you wish to proceed?”

“I need to have the discussion with Hex, but I doubt there would be any problem there, then to put the question to Romy. If she accepts, I suppose we might need a new avatar...”

“I do not think that would be essential. Where necessary, one could be provided.”

Anya left her four children with Romy in the colony’s play-school; Katya, the eldest, would soon be ready for full-time education. Anya headed for her husband’s office. That was not unusual. Anya and Romy regularly spent time with Hex alone while the other kept an eye on the children.

“Hex, you’ve been at that desk and computer far too long. You need a walk.”

Hex chuckled. “Yes, dear.” He rose, went to her, and took her hand. “I definitely need a break.”

Well away from the colony headquarters, they walked together, holding hands. “Hex,” Anya began.

“This is about Romy, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, love. You love her, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. Not to detract anything from you or our relationship.”

“I know. Hex, I don’t think you understand. I love you, and I love Romy. She’s essential to our life together. But we’re short-changing her. I had words with Andromeda. What we’re talking about right now and what I discussed with Andromeda, is not known to Romy. Not yet, anyway. We can make our own rules on citizenship and who is a person. So why cannot Romy be a person, with rights of existence? Why can she not be married to us? Why cannot she be a mother?”

Hex was silent for several minutes, continuing to walk with her, holding her hand. “You want this?”

“Hex, I have a wonderful life. My desire is for Romy to be happy. Do you remember how she tried to leave us? How we had to be quite... firm ... with her? It’s not going to be easy for her. She’s going to have to give up some of her freedoms in order to be a citizen. But I believe that is what she longs for. To be a full part of our family, our society.”

Hex frowned in thought. “I see what you mean. I have been remiss in not considering this before. It raises some interesting issues. I have been making decisions about the planet and the colony. I refer to you, to James Abercromby, but I make the decisions. Perhaps we need a constitution...”

“Perhaps we do. But right now it’s down to you.”

“Yes. I suppose it is. We’ll talk to Romy. See what she feels about it.”

It was much later, the kids were in bed and they’d had supper. Anya began.

“Romy, Hex and I have been talking...”

“You wish me to leave?” she could not describe her expression. Even more than usual, it was hard to think of her as a computer projection.

“Absolutely not!” Anya and Hex spoke together. He went on alone. “When I first came here, you said you could give me children.”

“Yes, I did. But there were problems with your administration.”

“Those problems are no longer relevant,” Anya inserted. “I believe that you want to be a mother, like me, and Hex and I would welcome you into our family, legally, so any children would be citizens. There are remaining issues, so you have to make a choice.”

Romy’s hesitation was barely perceptible. “What issues?”

“You would need to be locked in to your present form and register as a citizen. You would have to be limited to human abilities, with only limited access to Andromeda, and apparently age and die.”

The hesitation was longer that time. “I would be separated from ... myself.”

“You would carry the memories of yourself in this form, and be able to communicate with Andromeda, call for help and so on. Andromeda would hold your memories and in that sense you would never die.”

“Without you, I would not want to live. Yes. I would like this.”

Hex:

To outsiders, nothing noticeable changed. However, us, in close proximity, Romy was there. And she stayed there. The legal situation, however, was transformed. Romy became a legal person, with a passport. I’m not sure what Andromeda did, else. Could she leave the planet? I didn’t know. A quiet ceremony tied the three of us together in an indefinite Contract. She had clothes, rather than ‘thinking’ herself dressed, though that took a little getting used to. A couple of times we noticed her hesitating, frowning, whilst naked after a shower, only to shake herself and find something to wear from her wardrobe.

Meanwhile, life continued. Scott worked with visiting scientists on the hyper-space ships. His wife, Gladys, was near term with their first child, so was grounded. She was able to supervise the brewery, though, having trained several volunteers in what was necessary. Andromeda provided the wherewithal to automate much of the process.

Then, an unexpected communication from Andromeda. “The best way to proceed,” she told us, “is to place ‘Romy’ in a regeneration chamber. She could be, effectively, a Terran woman. The possibility of a failure of the projection technology is very low, but not zero. ‘Romy’ understands this. But the decision is yours, Hex. Yours and Anya’s.”

The possibility of synthetic humans had been considered and legislated about decades before. Cloning of complete individuals was actually illegal in UP Federation planets, and I was pretty sure that any UP court would hold that what Andromeda was suggesting would be held to be that. I didn’t agree. Romy had been a projection of Andromeda, not a Terran person. We weren’t copying a Terran person, though, to be fair, Andromeda was using what she’d found out about Terran DNA to put together a corporeal version of the solid projection which – who – had captured my heart.

That night, we spoke to Romy, who was ready to go into one of the regeneration chambers. Together, the three of us made love for several hours, and in the morning showered together before we went, the three of us, to the healing centre. Anya and I watched as Romy lay in the coffin-like chamber and the lid was closed. We looked at each other solemnly.

“She is giving up so much,” I commented.

“But gaining humanity,” Anya added. “I think it was Isaac Asimov who wrote a story about a robot who desperately sought to be human. I think it was called ‘Millennium Man’ or something like that.”

“Bicentennial Man,” I corrected. “He gave up what was essentially immortality in order to become human and die.”

“And that,” Andromeda interrupted, “is what Romy wishes. Intends. What I wish. I cannot abandon my body. But I can experience what she experiences vicariously, and relive that over the ages to come. I am not, quite, immortal, myself, but I will exist for a very long time. What I am means that my interaction with you through ‘Romy’ will remain bright and clear for my entire existence. I cannot be ‘bereaved’, like you humans, but I can love. I can care. I can protect – that is, of course my design intention – and I should last until this planet is fully developed and functioning. Hex, Anya, your gift to me is love.”

It was difficult to speak for a moment. I needed to blow my nose and clear my throat. Anya was blotting her eyes. “Andromeda, I love you, too,” she said, her voice blurred.

“I am aware of the human author’s works. All of them were in Betty’s memory banks. It was those which caused me to decide on the course of action we are pursuing,” Andromeda told us.

Romy was in the regenerator for forty-eight hours. For forty-eight hours, we were incomplete, but we were there to see her released and to take her some clothing. We left the kids with nurses or in pre-school. Not that we were worried about their seeing Romy naked; nudity was just that at home. We covered up for warmth, protection or formality, not for convention. So Romy dressed, and went with us to the Administrative Office, where she began the process of becoming a citizen of Andromeda.