Automated Responses

Fasti was used to the stares he got when riding Sanan.

But this time felt different.

He didn’t want to be seen.

The bike announced itself loudly wherever it went, its growl turning heads as they passed, yet instead of enjoying the attention like usual, he felt strangely exposed. Open. Vulnerable.

It took him a moment to realize why.

Acha’s arms were still wrapped around his waist.

Was she really the cause of this feeling?

But that didn’t make sense. The sensation wasn’t entirely negative - just unfamiliar. A nervous awareness he couldn’t quite name. He wasn’t embarrassed exactly… but he suddenly felt visible in a way he never had before.

It wasn’t like anyone here knew him.

Honestly, it wasn’t like anyone anywhere did.

Still, the feeling lingered.

He guided the bike off the road and into a parking space. Sanan looked wildly out of place beside the sleek, rimless, wirelessly powered machines surrounding them. The engine coughed once as he cut the fuel, then fell silent.

Acha released him and stepped off, immediately trying to tame her wind-tossed hair. Fasti climbed down after her, ears ringing slightly from the ride.

He offered a small, apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that.”

He braced himself for complaints. Maybe a lecture. Possibly regret.

Instead, she grinned.

“Wow! I wasn’t expecting it to be like that!”

He blinked.

“What do you mean?”

She gestured broadly - the bike, the street, the whole experience.

“Everything! The noise, the discomfort, the risk… all of it!”

She paused, frowning thoughtfully.

“I would like to know why it’s so noisy, though.”

Relief crept into his smile.

“That’d be the engine. It’s not the original, no idea what happened to that one. This is a hydrogen replacement.”

“But hydrogen engines aren’t noisy.”

He nodded.

“Usually, yeah. But there are two kinds. The electric type everyone uses… and this one.”

He nudged the bike lightly with his foot.

“It burns the gas instead of converting it to electricity. You studied history, right? Same principle as old combustion engines.”

She nodded.

“That makes sense.”

Then she smiled warmly at him.

“Well, sorry for doubting you. What’s next?”

He returned the smile, doing his best to ignore the faint flutter rising in his chest.

“Whatever you want. We’re in the shopping district, everything’s here.”

She nodded, thinking.

“What do we need?”

He shrugged.

“You need general life stuff. And we need some study books.”

She blinked.

“Study books?”

He grinned.

“You’re being assigned homework.”

She groaned instantly.

“I am not a child.”

He shrugged again.

“You’re in a place of education.”

She folded her arms.

“Senatla is not a place of education.”

He spread his hands innocently.

“It can be anything if you believe hard enough.”

She groaned louder, which only confirmed to him that he’d achieved exactly the reaction he wanted.

After a moment she sighed.

“Well… we also need more food.”

He nodded.

“That’s true.”

“Anything else?”

He considered it.

“I don’t think so. Nothing else from here, anyway.”

She smiled.

“Okay. We can’t fit much onto Sanan, so we’ll need to get the bare minimum.”

He nodded approvingly.

“Another good point. Let’s do this in order of importance.”

He gestured toward the shops ahead.

“Starting with your stuff.”

Her face lit up.

“Sounds like a plan!”

A bag of toiletries and spare clothes swung from Acha’s arm as they walked into their second stop - the supermarket.

Fasti cracked his knuckles while she picked up a few reusable shopping bags near the entrance.

“Alright. We can’t get much, but we should get as much as we can.”

Acha frowned.

“What about the study books?”

He smiled.

“We’ll get those at the spaceport.”

She nodded.

“Alright. And what about bigger meals?”

He hesitated. Options flashed through his mind.

“I… normally eat out.”

She glanced up at him.

“Why? Can you not cook?”

He scratched the back of his neck.

“I can, but-”

She narrowed her eyes.

“It’s just laziness, isn’t it?”

He sighed and nodded.

But she giggled.

“Thought so. Then can we get cooking ingredients too?”

Again he hesitated.

“I… I mean, if we have enough room on Sanan, then yes.”

She beamed.

“Thank you!”

She immediately took the lead, weaving happily through the aisles, grabbing items with growing confidence. Fasti followed close behind, attempting - and failing - to keep track of everything she added.

When she reached the bread racks, she stopped abruptly.

“We already have bread, don’t we?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah…”

She grinned.

“I’m just teasing.”

And then she was off again.

Her arms grew steadily heavier as the bags filled. Eventually she returned and shoved them all into his hands.

“Here, carry these.”

She didn’t wait for an answer before disappearing down another aisle. Now she had to keep returning to him to unload more food into the bags. The weight increased alarmingly, but he let her continue uninterrupted.

Finally she stopped in front of him, planting her hands on her hips and puffing out her chest.

“Finished!”

He glanced into the bags. He wasn’t entirely sure whether he was holding two or three meals… or supplies for two weeks.

He looked back up.

“Are you sure you can carry these on the bike?”

She nodded confidently.

“I’m sure!”

He shrugged.

“As your employer, I hope you’re not planning on wasting company money.”

She grinned.

“You mean your bank account.”

He shrugged again.

“Same same.”

They walked toward the exit, the automated supermarket silently tracking every item and charging the total to Fasti’s account as they passed through.

Acha smiled wistfully.

“You know, when I applied for this apprenticeship, I didn’t expect this in the slightest.”

He chuckled nervously.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t really know what I’m doing-”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Was he supposed to admit that?

Probably not.

But she only smiled.

“Well, I think you’re doing very well. And that’s coming from someone who’s worked a fair few jobs over the last few years.”

Realization hit her a second later, and she fell quiet too.

They walked along the sidewalk in silence, listening to the hum of the city around them.

Eventually Fasti spoke again.

“I’m assuming you can cook too?”

She nodded quickly.

“I can! I worked as a chef for a week!”

He raised an eyebrow.

“A week?”

She shrugged.

“Seafood doesn’t agree with me.”

He chuckled.

“Why did you even take the job then?”

She pouted.

“I was experimenting.”

“So you tried working with something you knew you were allergic to?”

She sighed.

“In retrospect, it was stupid.”

He laughed, and before long she was laughing with him.

When the laughter faded, he smiled.

“But you must’ve had the skills to get hired in the first place.”

She nodded.

“My mum taught me how to cook. She was much better than I am.”

He chose not to pry further.

“So what’re you going to make?”

She nudged his side, a cheeky smile spreading across her face.

“You think I’m cooking alone? No, you’re helping.”

His heart did a small, enthusiastic jig inside his chest.

“In that small kitchen?”

She nodded.

“We’ll manage. We’ll just split it in half. Each person gets their own side. It’ll be like a game!”

He smiled, trying to hide his growing excitement.

“You didn’t even let me request any recipes.”

She laughed.

“You didn’t ask!”

“You didn’t tell me what you were doing!”

“You didn’t give me any guidelines besides not getting too much!”

“You… you…”

He sighed dramatically.

“You win.”

She giggled - bright, infectious.

“Don’t worry. Next time we’ll have an action plan before we go in.”

He laughed with her, nodding.

Sanan waited ahead of them, exactly where they’d left it. But for once, he didn’t feel any urgency to climb back on.

He had to remind himself that there was more to come.

He felt unusually light.

He wondered if she did too.