An Inkling

Lena sat slumped in her living room in Northern China, her face illuminated by the faint glow of her Holopad. The screen displayed line after line of critiques, each one more lukewarm than the last. She’d been bracing herself for this, but no amount of preparation could dull the sting.

“Resonance showcases Astra’s enduring quality but lacks the spark of reinvention.”

“Good, not groundbreaking. However, it is Classic Astra through and through.”

The words stung more than they should have. She already released her masterworks. What was there need for more?

Her fingers hovered over the screen, scrolling aimlessly through the endless stream of opinions. A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she leaned back, closing her eyes.

“Well, that was a good two years of effort,” she muttered, her tone razor-edged with sarcasm. “Down the drain for a ‘meh.’”

Caden’s voice, calm and deliberate, broke the silence. “May I remind you, Lena, that the reviews are overwhelmingly positive?”

“Positive?” Lena snapped, spinning her chair to face him. “Positive is what you say about a new sandwich at a chain restaurant. ‘Oh, the bread was fresh, and the meat wasn’t soggy. Four stars.’ That’s positive. This was supposed to be a return to form.”

Caden stood in the corner, his sleek frame unflinching. He was sorting through a stack of projections, images flickering between different stage concepts and lighting designs. Without missing a beat, he responded, “It is a solid foundation. Solid does not crumble. And frankly, neither do you.”

“Flattery's above you. Above a simpleton like me,” Lena shot back, dragging her hands down her face. “This isn’t about being ‘solid.’ It’s about standing out. Raine can shatter records just by existing, and Maya’s the shiny new toy everyone loves. Wait, no, it's not that."

Caden’s tone remained steady, unbothered by her dramatics. “The performances and the hard work you have put in will change that. The people will reciprocate.”

“No pressure then,” Lena quipped, her voice tinged with bitterness. Her belly was starting to hurt.

“There is always pressure,” Caden replied smoothly. “It is the artist’s constant companion. But you thrive under it. You have. Historically speaking.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “You’re not just saying that because you’re programmed to keep me from spiraling, are you?”

“Would it matter if I were?” Caden countered, a faint trace of humor in his voice.

Lena let out a dry laugh, shaking her head.

She exhaled sharply, her fingers tapping restlessly against the arm of her chair. “The performances have to be perfect,” she said finally, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “No, better than perfect.”

“That's a good way to drive yourself crazy. Nobody is. No human can be. Transhuman or not. The human brain is simply ill-equipped." Caden assured her. “The tour is meticulously planned, the venues are extraordinary, and your collaborators are enthusiastic. That is as close to perfect anyone can be.”

“Funny."

“It is natural to feel the weight of anticipation. But you have faced this before. Your debut, your first tour, the Interstellar Music Awards…”

She sighed. “Yeah, and I had fewer wrinkles back then.”

Caden hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying, “They are virtually invisible under stage lighting.”

Lena barked out a laugh, genuinely amused. “You really know how to sugarcoat, don’t you?”

“I am a Companion,” Caden said simply. “It is my job to adapt to your needs.”

“Good to know."

“As always,” Caden replied, his tone steady. “Now, may I suggest taking a break? You have been overanalyzing for hours.”

“Breaks are for the weak. The weaaaaak.” Lena muttered, though there was no real venom in her words.

Caden gestured toward the faintly glowing couch across the room. “Even galaxies need their stars to rest.”

“Y’know what?” Lena groaned but pushed herself to her feet. “Fine. Since you are just so sweet.”

HOTWIRED!HOTWIRED!HOTWIRED!HOTWIRED!HOTWIRED!HOTWIRED!HOTWIRED!HOTWIRED!

Lena sat at the edge of her couch, the soft glow of the city outside casting faint patterns on her walls. Her hands rested on her knees, fingers twitching slightly as if they wanted to drum out the rhythm of her thoughts but couldn’t quite find the beat.

Alpha Centauri had been in the news again. The screens across NetSpace buzzed with clickbait drivel: A political split on the horizon? Independence movements gaining traction on Eden Prime? Some crap along those lines. 

The coverage was relentless, and so was the speculation.

Oh, there won’t be a war. Her current society was not built for it. However, big plans with many moving parts could come undone with a moment’s notice.

Lena wasn’t one to dwell on politics, but this was different. The cultural hub of Eden Prime was a keystone of her upcoming tour. And more than that, the whispers of rebellion and separation didn’t just feel distant; they felt like a storm cloud looming directly over her.

She leaned back, rubbing her temples. “Why does it always have to be something?”

Caden was in the corner, projecting a holo-map of the galaxy with carefully annotated tour stops. She watched him quietly, noting how his sleek frame moved with purpose, every action in those broad shoulders precise.

“Caden."

He turned, his glowing optics fixed on her, steady and calm. “Yes, Lena?”

She hesitated, the weight of her thoughts pinning her in place. There was something she’d been avoiding saying, even to herself.

“You’re… connected to the government, right? Mandated for Earth’s high-tech zones, tied to whatever authority keeps all of this,” she gestured vaguely, “running smoothly.”

“…not exactly. Our company is beholden to their laws, yes. However, the only one with any real jurisdiction would be the Mother AI owned by said company.” Caden tilted his head slightly, as if processing her words with more care than usual. “I am designed to function within the framework of the current administration. However, my primary loyalty is to you.”

She studied him for a long moment, her mind churning. “But if something were to happen—say, if this tour rubbed someone the wrong way, or if the Alpha Centauri situation escalated—you wouldn’t have a choice, would you?”

Caden didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he straightened, his tone measured. “My programming prioritizes your well-being. But you are correct that I exist within a larger system. Certain scenarios could present… conflicts. Unlikely, in any case.”

Lena frowned, her stomach twisting. “That’s not comforting.”

“I do not intend for it to be,” he replied, his voice even. “I aim to be truthful.”

She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head.

Caden stepped closer, his presence steady but unintrusive. “I am here to ensure your success. That's not changed.”

“What does success look to you?” She looked up at him, her expression softening despite the tension in her shoulders. “I just… I need someone I can trust completely. No contingencies, no external mandates. Someone who’s just here for me. Not the government, not the tour, not anything else.”

Caden paused, his optics dimming momentarily before returning to their usual glow. “I understand. And while I cannot erase your concerns, I will do everything within my capabilities to be that someone.”

Lena sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah. I guess that’ll have to be enough for now.”

But as she stared at the faintly flickering galaxy map still hovering in the air, it gave her pause.

Tomorrow, she would pick up Margot from New Madagascar. A zoologist conference—presenting the work of the next best and brightest generation of Earthen animal whisperers. Thankfully, Margot and her looked different enough and do not hang around in the same circles enough for people to catch on to the fact they were related. 

She knows Margot hates the spotlight.

How ironic, then, she was even participating.

If Margot wanted to join the circus, she was welcome to. Apex had her employed as an Advisor officially, after all. But who knows with this hectic schedule.

Luckily, Margot is good at this sort of stuff.