Dyllys
Chapter One

“Wakeup.”

Dyllyswas unsure whether she had thought the words, or if someone else had spokenthem. Regardless, they had the desired affect: she awoke. She stared at thecascading light. The morning sun was shining through the window at the end ofher bed. She could see the tight beam it sent through the trees outside as thelight reflected on the dust in the room. She passed her hand through it tryingto catch the light even as she knew that she couldn’t. She was more intent onfeeling the warmth of the light on her cold pale skin. She had no warmth of herown; after all, Dyllys wasn’t alive.

Theycalled her an android, as they called all her kind, but they had never treatedher like one. Had she understood feelings she would have called their treatmentof her kind, but Dyllys couldn’t feel. She merely was; for something had to bealive to feel.

Today,her mind was full of confusion. She wanted to talk to her mistress and so shepushed herself up from the bed and stood. She understood that she was to wearclothing, which her mistress required of her, but she never had understood thepurpose of the clothing that they required her to wear. Practicality called fortight fitting clothes that would not hinder her performance in her duties, buther mistress always insisted that she wear loose fitting dresses that rippledin the wind and caused more problems with movement than Dyllys would everadmit. Her duty, however, was not to question her mistress, but to obey. Whatshe had come to understand about humans in the duration she had been active,was that they rarely made sense and always acted on emotion, something thatDyllys did not comprehend. She only knew that it made her mistress do illogicalthings and more often caused Dyllys a great deal of problems.

Dyllysput on a white dress nearly the same color as her soft skin. She looked atherself in the mirror. It wasn’t that she was at all concerned with the way shelooked; it was merely an imitation of what her mistress always did. As hermistress was always insistent that Dyllys act more human, Dyllys always made apoint to copy what her mistress did, regardless of whether or not she knew whyshe was doing such things.

Dyllyswas perfection in the eyes of a human. Her pale skin was unmarked, her facealmost childlike in innocence. Her eyes were a piercing blue, so perfect incolor they looked like ice. Dyllys understood that her eyes captivated humans,captured their attention more than anything else her body possessed, merelybecause they were such a radiant color that belonged to no human. She alwaysthought that this feature of hers would be the least liked as her mistress wasalways aspiring for Dyllys to be more human. In fact, the rarity of their coloralways made everyone feel more comfortable with Dyllys, like the mere color ofher eyes made her more human. Another thing she couldn’t comprehend. Maybe theywere easier to stare at than the more mechanical look of her ‘wings,’ thememory modules that were affixed to her temples. They were large metallicstructures that grew from beneath the surface of her skin forming metallicfeathers that looked, with intricate detail, like the wings of crane, whitewith black tips. Her ‘wings’ were what held back her long silver hair. Staringat herself in the mirror, Dyllys couldn’t see a human at all. She saw just whatshe was: a machine, built to serve. She moved away from the mirror, casting nosecond glance, and walked out the door.

Dyllyslived in the guest house, away from the constant noise and prattle that issuedconstantly from the main house. The estate she lived on was large and wasalways busy. Her mistress’s family had owned it for generations, a vineyard ofthe finest quality. Dyllys had a fondness for this place, though she didn’tunderstand the attachment. All she knew was that her thoughts centered aroundit when she was gone, and she was always asking her mistress if things werebeing done to satisfaction while they were away. Her mistress always told hernot to worry so much. Dyllys didn’t know what worry was, but she would alwaysstop asking questions then as she understood that it made her mistress feel asthough she had given Dyllys comfort.

Dyllysentered the main house through the east entrance. This was her normal route.She always felt compelled to go this way for reasons she didn’t understand, butfelt no need to resist. It followed a logical course and so the compulsion wasindulged. It brought her through the drawing room and no matter how many timesshe entered this room, she could not just go all the way through to the otherdoor without stopping to stare at an empty space, a space which she felt shouldbe filled, by what or whom she did not know, only that it being empty was unnatural.She stood staring at it unmoving, unflinching, until she heard movement beginin the rest of the house. Giving one last look at the empty spot she turned andsaw her mistress.

“Padrona,”Dyllys said bowing slightly to her mistress, “I did not hear you come into theroom.”

“Wereyou surprised?” Her mistress asked.

Dyllysjust stared back at her mistress passively, “I do not feel, Padrona.”

“PleaseDyllys, call me Glory. You know I hate when you are so formal with me.” Gloryreflexively put a strand of her black hair behind her ear – a habit that Dyllysunderstood meant that she was uncomfortable with something.

“Itis my programming, Padrona,” Dyllys replied.

“Mustwe go through this every morning?” Dyllys could tell by her tone that she wasnot pleased and so acquiesced.

“Iam sorry, Glory,” Dyllys said and then bowed once again. Glory stepped furtherinto the room and took Dyllys' hand rubbing it gently. Dyllys just stared attheir hands noting the difference in the color. She wondered if she were aliveand had blood coursing through her veins instead of nanomachines if she wouldhave the deep brown color that Glory had and if she would be as warm. Dyllysnever wanted to pull away when Glory touched her; touching Glory was likecatching the sunlight in her palm. It was always interesting to feel the flowof energy in such a way.

“Glory,I wanted to recount yesterday’s events with you. I have a memory that does notcorrespond with the rest of the events, a memory that appeared this morningthat I did not have previously. I was wondering if someone had altered me.”

“Amemory that doesn’t fit? How about instead of recounting the day’s events,Dyllys, we start with the memory and I will see what I can do about making itfit.” She sat in the empty spot and Dyllys stared at her for a while beforeresponding. “Is something the matter?”

“Youhave never sat there before,” Dyllys replied.

Glorylooked at the chair she was seated in and then back at Dyllys, “Does it botheryou that I am sitting here?”

“Mypreference is irrelevant.”

“Ofcourse it isn’t irrelevant,” Glory said and then moved to the sofa beside thechair patting the seat next to her, a gesture Dyllys took to mean she shouldsit, and so she sat.

“So?”Glory prompted.

“Iwas in a grove of trees I do not recall. It was autumn. I know this because theleaves were all a brilliant color, vibrant in flash frozen yellows and reds.The tree I was standing before and looking up at looked as if it had beendipped in paint and the paint was dripping down slowly from branch to branchchanging the leaves from green to red. Red tips to orange, yellow, and green. Ido not think I have ever seen a tree like that before. I did not want to stopstaring at it. Then I heard a voice behind me, I could not properly understandwhat he was saying. I turned from the tree and looked at the bearer of thevoice. It was a man I have never seen before, but I knew his name and he smiledwhen he saw me, like you do sometimes when I have done something that you like.I wanted to go to him, but I heard another voice; it told me to wake up.”

Glorywas smiling and laughed softly, “That wasn’t a memory Dyllys that was a dream.”

“Ido not comprehend this word. What is dream?”

“Adream is what happens when your mind is sleeping. It takes things that you haveseen in your life and makes a new story. Most of the time, they don’t makesense. Some people think that dreams have meanings, and other people believethat they are just random synapses firing in your brain and it is only once youare awake that a person assigns any meaning to them. I for one like to thinkthat they do mean something. In your case, I hope it means you’re starting tofeel something for a change.”

“Androidscannot feel,” Dyllys replied.

“Androidsalso should not dream. Yet you did Dyllys. Maybe you shouldn’t make suchdefinite statements.”

Dyllysremained silent trying to assimilate the knowledge she has just gleaned, “Adream is not a memory? A dream is random information that we interpret to havea meaning. Consolidation of memory. But Glory,” Dyllys said, looking at Glory,her expression that of incomprehension, “I have never seen such a tree, or sucha man before.”

“Exactly,”Glory said and smiled. It was the samesmile the man had worn in Dyllys' dream. She patted Dyllys’s hand and thenstood to leave. As she reached the door she turned back to Dyllys who wasstaring at Glory with no expression, “We have a guest coming later thisevening, my nephew, I’m sure he’ll want to meet you Dyllys. I’ll call you whenhe arrives, until then, why don’t you try and replace that tree of yours, thepainted one from your dream.”

“Asyou wish, Padrona.” Glory did not correct her this time, she just smiled. Sheknew that even if Dyllys was unaware of it, Dyllys always reverted back tocalling her mistress whenever she disliked the task that was set before her.And Glory knew that the tasks that Dyllys disliked the most were the ones thatshe understood the least. Glory knew, however, that those tasks were the onesDyllys most needed to do, for they were the ones that made her grow.