Jasmine Hughes

V17: Cerulean Blue Jasmine Hughes • Fiction

Ari’s chilled fingers steadied the paintbrush as she slid it over his arm. He was on her table, lying flat against the chippedat wood. Dust swirled around the brightness of her lamp. She ducked under the angled ceiling as she reached for a new brush; her collection was in an old paint tin that was filled to the brim with water. She returned to him, dipping the smaller brush in a new color. On his fingers, she darkened the lines of his knuckles and added a few freckles on his skin. The light on her desk hid the dark circles and newly formed acne spots. As the paint dried, she examined his details. She gritted her teeth and checked the time. Much too late to keep working.

Flipping the switch on her desk lamp, she rose to her feet. Across the room she curled up on the floor between her two blankets, with her head resting on a fraying throw pillow. Dreams swirled in her mind, they were rose-colored fairy tales that brought a smile to her sleeping face. He would be perfect—better than all of the people she’d ever met. Especially better than him.

The following morning, she dug out whatever money she could find from the empty crevices in her loft. Most was spare change

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the previous tenant deemed useless. Today’s trek to the market was the same, a bright sun, heated concrete, and her freckles on display. She hummed an unfamiliar tune and scoured for supplies. The market was crowded and seemed hotter with all of the chattering people. Colorful booths were filled with anything and everything one could imagine, most of it was recycled junk, but there were gems hidden within. “Hello, Miss,” a large scruffy man said, with a kind smile, “can I help you find anything?”

His booth was littered with odds and ends—plenty of craft supplies to go around. Ari eyed the mechanical parts that he’d probably scavenged from a junkyard. A few pieces of hardware looked like they could be useful for other projects, but she needed to focus on the one at hand before she ran out of money.

“Do you have any blue paints?” she asked. She’d yet to find the perfect blue—even after several full palettes of mixed blues.

He lifted a rusty silver bucket, setting it on the table. “There’s probably a few in here.”

Ari sifted through the old paints, most would chip off immediately. “I need the longwearing stuff. For the human ones.”

The man bristled, tugging at his grayed beard. He couldn’t help but correct her. “They’re not human,” he said. He moved the bucket back to the ground. “But I don’t have any for them anyway.”

“They have feelings,” she said.

“Programmed feelings,” he replied. “Those don’t count.” He glanced behind her as more customers approached his booth. “If you’re not going to buy, I’ll have to ask you to move on. People around here don’t want anything to do with those bots.”

Ari fought the urge to argue, and instead stormed away from the booth. The rest of the market was friendlier, but she couldn’t find the blue of her dreams.

Back in her loft, she finished the small details that would make him real and dressed him in a nice shirt and pants. She finally settled on a cerulean blue that she deemed good enough. Ari’s

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stomach stirred as she opened the compartment at the base of his neck. Wiring was hidden behind a metal component that swelled into a small silver switch. She flipped it, before shutting the compartment tightly and moving to face him.

The startup was slow—but that was to be expected. Slowly, she heard the soft hum of him coming to life. He blinked, his head turning as he looked at his creator.

“Hello,” he said.

Excitement flooded her core. She’d been nervous about the speech programming, the few times she’d done it, the voices sounded robotic and computerized. It had taken her months to perfect vocal chords that allowed such warmth to be heard.

“Hello,” she responded. “I’m Ari.” His brows furrowed. “Who am I?” “Julien,” she responded. “Your name is Julien.”

He smiled widely, with pearly acrylic teeth that she’d carved to be almost perfect, with only the slightest chip on his right canine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ari,” Julien said. “I am so happy to be alive.”

Ari took his hand, it was warming up but wasn’t quite right. “I have to run some tests to make sure you’re working all right. Is that okay?”

Julien nodded swiftly. “Of course, Ari.”

She sat him in her desk chair and started on the startup tests: testing reflexes, the attention span, strength, and so on. A physical and mental exam to get an idea of the droid’s skills and abilities. Ari had to be sure he was as perfect as she’d planned.

He reacted just as she expected—just as she hoped. He was almost perfect. Julien followed her with patience that could only be manufactured. But Ari could already see mistakes she’d made; the missing freckle on his cheek, a forgotten scar on the back of his hand, that cerulean blue.

She did her best to ignore those irritating missteps as she started their life together. They spent a lot of time talking—he had so many questions she hadn’t imagined. None of the bots

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she’d worked on previously had ever been so curious. That alone was almost enough to make her forget that he wasn’t human.

It was a month of hiding away in the loft before she finally relented to taking him outside. They strolled along the riverside and his eyes did their best to follow every passing motion. He introduced himself to twelve people, though one was a baby that the mother quickly snatched away.

That small walk was more than enough to sink rocks into Ari’s stomach. For another few grueling weeks she tried to hold him inside as she worked. Utility Bots came to her for quick repairs with enough payment to keep the loft and any to buy the food she needed.

Julien paced endlessly, never tiring of wanting more. His questions ceased when Ari refused to answer him. With every glance she would find a new flaw—an unintentional one. It made looking at him unbearable at times.

He leaned over her desk, shadowing over the bot she was attempting to repair. “Ari,” he said. “Can we go for a walk? It’s been so long since the last one.”

She didn’t even look up from the screw she was loosening. “No, it’s too dark out.”

“I’ve never seen the city in the dark,” he replied, as he’d already mentioned the previous day. “I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

Ari’s jaw twitched as her hands stilled. “It’s dangerous outside at night—”

“Not for me,” Julien said. “I’m made of metal. I could protect you from anyone.”

“I said no, Julien.”

His cerulean eyes narrowed. Ari could hear his teeth grinding together in frustration. For a moment, they just stared at each other, trying to decide whether to end this conversation or take it too far. Finally, he decided.

He shoved against the Utility Bot on her table, throwing it to the ground. It crashed down, bits of glass and metal skidding across the floor. “Why am I trapped here?!” He slammed his fists into

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her table, leaving harsh dents in the wood. “I didn’t ask for this!”

Ari stood up, moving to face him without a barrier. “You didn’t, and I’m sorry I failed you,” she said. She opened her arms to him. “I’m so sorry, Julien.”

He hesitated, she hadn’t offered him a hug since their walk. But when tears fell from her eyes, he relaxed against her. Ari’s fingers worked quickly against his neck, and before he could even process it, he fell to the floor. She gazed at the shell, thinking of the real Julien. Had she kept him home, he wouldn’t be another shell beneath layers of dirt.

Ari would try again to perfect her new Julien, but she would have to take this one apart to do it. Starting from scratch always worked the best for her. She dismantled Julien V17 and packed him up with the rest of her things. The following morning, she walked to the train station—leaving the misshapen Utility Bot at the doorstep of its owner on her way. In a new town she would search for something better than cerulean blue.

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