Even "Friends" Would Do

The Old Apartment, Night

Emily had heard Rain's muttering and glanced over.

"That's exactly the problem." Emily lowered her voice. "Hey, think carefully - have you broken off any strange willow branches lately?"

Rain grabbed the cookbook on the dining table and smacked her friend's shoulder with it.

"If I really had a wish-granting willow, why wouldn't I just pray for the two of us to get rich?"

Emily let out a deliberately dramatic yelp and clutched her shoulder, looking wounded.

"Someone like her lacks for nothing anyway. So no - it's not impossible that she just wants to make a friend."

She shrugged and spread her hands.

"But I don't think she makes friends casually."

Rain's heart tightened.

"You feel something's off too, don't you?"

Watching Rain's nervous face, Emily pulled her into a one-armed hug and laughed:

"Whatever it is, it's a good thing. Honestly, if I had a friend like that, I could never bear to cut her off."

Rain turned her head and stared, not understanding.

"I wouldn't just not cut her off - I'd squeeze her for everything she's worth!"

Emily jabbed a finger at Celestina on the screen, entirely self-righteous:

"She's gorgeous, and she has an android. So she lied to you, did she? Likes playing gentle and harmless? Fine. Then watch just how good she can be to you. Whether she really wants to be 'friends.'"

Rain was quiet for a moment. She looked at the laptop, at the reckless bright smile on Celestina's face - a woman with the power to command this world of capital, who had nevertheless gone and taken her cat.

Rain gazed at the face on the screen and said softly:

"You're right. Right now we're just friends."

Emily rolled up her sleeves laughing and got up to put on dish gloves at the kitchen sink.

"Then let her keep playing by the rules of friendship."

She turned and wiggled both claw-hands at Rain.

"As your friend, ask her for me sometime - when do I get to pet that android?"

Laughing, Rain flung the dish rag at her.

"Dishes first!"

Valdieri House, Night

Meanwhile, at Valdieri House, Celestina had just finished her training.

The training room on the ground floor was washed in white light, its floor covered in dark gray mats, several battered sparring robots propped against the wall. Celestina stood at the center and kicked away one of the machines that had tried to ambush her from the shadows.

The transforming robot, struck hard, immediately retracted its mechanical arms and tried to fold back into its rounded shape - but one of its joints had been kicked into protective lock. It could only tumble in a sorry heap among its companions' "corpses," the indicator lights where its eyes should be blinking warning red as it repeated in broken machine-voice, over and over, "Training terminated."

Celestina stood where she was, slowly evening out her breathing. She unwound the bandages from her wrists and looked down at the faint red on her knuckles, her eyes full of the sated calm of a temper finally spent.

The maid waiting nearby came forward at once with water, eyes lowered, holding it out.

"Miss."

Celestina picked the glass off the tray and drank half of it in one go.

Her throat moved slightly. The air was full of the scent of her pheromones - a complicated fragrance: the sour brightness of bergamot peel layered over petitgrain, the clean note of white tea, and the cold damp of limestone after rain.

She glanced down briefly at the maid before her - a Beta, nearly immune to her pheromones - standing properly, tray raised in both hands, perfectly courteous.

Celestina's gaze didn't linger. She set the glass back on the tray.

"Study."

"Yes."

Twenty minutes later she came out of the bath.

The steam hadn't fully cleared; the stone rim of the bath still held a faint warmth. A servant toweled the ends of her hair dry and pinned the blond mass loosely to one side with an exquisite silver hairpin.

Another Beta maid brought a silver-gray house robe; the silk was so soft it made no sound as it settled on her shoulders.

She let the staff do no more. She tied the sash herself, crossed the warm stone floor barefoot, and walked toward the study.

The lights dimmed automatically behind her as she went; the mechanical jellyfish lamps floating along the corridor walls brightened softly only when they sensed her passing. Bionic systems ran soundless within the walls - the whole mansion was a vast creature breathing with her.

As she approached, the study doors slid open on their own.

Celestina sat down at the desk. Lior was already waiting. He held a pair of soft leather slippers, and only after she was seated did he come to her side and sink to one knee to set them by her feet.

His movements were as quiet and precise as ever, the silver-blue rings of his pupils flashing once and gone.

"Miss."

Celestina picked up the tablet and slid a file open.

"Report."

"Miss Rain and Miss Emily are discussing the Valdieri family's public records, along with certain photographs of your past."

Celestina's fingers stopped dead.

She looked up. Lior had already risen to stand beside the desk.

"Certain photographs?"

"Mostly public video stills and press photos, plus a number of unauthorized sneak shots from private occasions."

When Lior finished, the study was quiet for a second.

Celestina raised one eyebrow slightly, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

"How did they find them?"

"Miss Emily has considerable information-retrieval skills. Sources include tech forums, archived gossip pages, image-cache sites, reposting accounts on social media, and some taken-down content that still survives in mirrors."

Celestina leaned back into her chair, a very faint smile at her lips.

"She's more useful than she looks."

The blue ring in Lior's eyes turned once, as if digesting the evaluation. Then he asked:

"Shall we clean up the distribution sources?"

"No."

Those photos meant nothing to her. The things that truly couldn't leak, Emily couldn't touch. As for old news that had already been through several rounds of the internet, scrubbing it was beside the point.

What mattered more was -

Rain was watching.

Celestina lowered her eyes and tapped a fingertip lightly on the desk.

"And her reaction, once she saw them?"

Lior paused half a second, the blue rings in his pupils rotating both ways.

"Based on the audio and limited visual data collected by the doll device, Miss Rain displayed shock, curiosity, mild unease, and a strong appetite for gossip. Analysis indicates she has repeatedly reassessed your identity."

Celestina looked at Lior.

"Limited visuals?"

"The doll's position partially blocks the view. Analysis available only through glass reflections and acoustic localization. Shall I open the live feed and audio?"

Celestina frowned and set the tablet down on the desk.

"Put it on screen."

Lior walked to the side of the study and raised a hand to connect with the wall display system. The blue rings in his pupils flickered a moment, and the screen lit up.

The picture Celestina saw was far from complete. Rain's small apartment, of course, lacked Valdieri House's all-angle coverage. The doll with the camera had been set beside a bookshelf; the lens could catch only one corner of the living room, and even that was polluted by the television's blue glow.

Celestina could see only the occasional arm or crown of hair passing the edge of the frame. It irritated her, frankly.

Fortunately, the audio came through clearly.

Emily's high, bright voice spilled out of the speakers with her usual drama and excitement.

"- Heir to the Valdieri family, top-tier Alpha... she is literally God's most perfect capstone project."

Celestina's lips curled, and she went on listening quietly.

She heard the tremor of disbelief in Rain's voice after the fight video, and then, a few scandal photos later, the heated rebuttal flung at Emily:

"Who said anything about playing with her?"

The sudden rise of Rain's voice rang through the empty study, and Celestina laughed softly. She propped her chin on one hand; the earlier irritation at the incomplete picture had vanished without a trace, and she looked, frankly, in an excellent mood.

Lior stood beside her and rolled his eyes gently toward her, making not a sound.

The playback continued. On screen, Emily's voice turned serious:

"...then watch just how good she can be to you. Whether she really wants to be 'friends.'"

Then came Rain's silence - and her assent.

Celestina watched the blurry figure on the screen.

Rain was hugging a throw pillow, presumably seated at the far end of the sofa. The camera couldn't see her face or her expression at all. Celestina didn't look away.

She pressed pause.

"Enlarge her face."

At the command, Lior immediately pulled the reflection feeds, cropping and enhancing the blurred images from the dark edge of the TV screen and the window glass.

Even enlarged, the image was still not clear enough - but Celestina could make out Rain's lowered profile and the corners of her mouth pressed tight.

She straightened her back a little, folded her hands on her knee, cuffs of the house robe sliding naturally to her wrist bones, and studied the screen in silence.

Lior waited a moment, then turned his head slightly, locking his gaze on her; the rings in his pupils flickered twice.

"Shall we flag Miss Emily as an intervening variable?"

Celestina gave him a flat look.

"Don't use words like that."

Lior paused half a second and tried again.

"Shall we flag Miss Emily as an influencing factor?"

"You may."

Celestina leaned back into the chair, eyes still on the screen.

Emily was a complication.

But not a bad one, yet.

In the past, Celestina would have found a friend like this an eyesore. She didn't think so now - at least not for the moment.

With someone like Emily around, Rain would feel she had backing, and so would not read Celestina's approach as a cage.

And Emily had desire.

Very clear desire.

Celestina had naturally not missed how many times Emily had let slip her longing for her company and her androids.

People with sharply defined wants had sharply defined directions that could be soothed and steered. It was enough to let her believe everything unfolded from her own rational judgment.

Celestina gazed at the screen and said softly:

"Refine the listing copy for the HCI and multi-agent interaction roles in the autumn hiring round."

The double rings in Lior's pupils spun again; a few seconds later he paused and looked at her.

"Shall the keywords be tuned to Miss Emily's resume?"

"No."

Celestina said evenly.

"If she isn't good enough, she doesn't get in."

She picked the tablet back up and ticked a permission setting.

"But if she is good enough, don't let the system screen her out early over a visa or her background."

"Understood. Switching to fair-review parameters."

Celestina gave a small nod.

"One more thing. Tag the sources of every page Emily has shown her."

"Yes."

When all of that was done, Celestina pressed play again.

Rain's voice came through the screen:

"You're right. Right now we're just friends."

Celestina's fingers stilled on her knee as she watched.

She could hear that Rain's voice wasn't entirely steady when she said it - more like she was telling herself.

Celestina lowered her eyes, and the smile faded a little.

"Friends."

She repeated it softly. The word coming out of her mouth sounded like a tool under evaluation.

For her, "friends" was nowhere near enough.

But for the time being, she could, grudgingly, accept it.

As long as it kept Rain at ease and unguarded around her, she didn't mind the name.

A friend may care for the other at fitting moments. Offer help.

A friend may foster her cat, and recommend job listings to her friend.

A friend may walk her home, remind her to eat, correct the direction of her thinking.

Being friends was fine. As long as Rain kept accepting that the boundary of "friend" was being widened inch by inch, the word itself would do a great deal of her work for her.

Lior spoke suddenly:

"Miss Rain has shown curiosity about your past intimate relationships, and her gaze lingered longer on some of the more intimate photographs."

Celestina's lips curled as she looked at Lior, apparently pleased with the finding.

"Jealous?"

"Cannot confirm. Closer to shock, or a shame-tinged curiosity. Some comparative psychology and status-anxiety may be present."

Celestina laughed low in her throat.

But then she thought of that dinner, thought of Andis, and her expression cooled by degrees.

She thought suddenly of the Beta maid from earlier - able to stand safely before her precisely because she couldn't smell pheromones.

Wasn't Rain the same now? She would locate her position by her own birth and her designation, and feel blindly safe at being "not qualified" enough to be truly chosen.

Celestina looked at the screen, and her eyes went darker by the moment.

The two girls' noisy voices gradually died away on the feed; the background music of a video game played a while longer, then the clink of a cup set on a table - and then the picture went dark. Lights out, both of them, back to the bedroom.

Even after Lior reported that Rain had left the camera's tracking, Celestina kept staring at the screen.

She watched the ghost of the image and thought: Rain was more natural in her own small apartment than she had ever been in Valdieri House. Her ease with Emily had a seamlessness that no outsider could puncture.

A faint displeasure rose in Celestina's chest.

It wasn't aimed at Emily. It was aimed at that naturalness she could not yet enter.

She could give her many things. But she could not yet make her laugh like that, guardless, at her side.

Celestina raised a hand and shut off the cast. Lior readjusted the room's lighting, then went on watching her.

Celestina looked at the perfume sample on the desk, still not final - fetched back this afternoon by special errand.

The small transparent bottle stood quietly on the desk, sealing bergamot peel and petitgrain, white tea, and the limestone after rain.

That was the scent of her pheromones - herself, dismantled, diluted, retouched, and made ready to be delivered into another person's life.

She picked up the bottle and turned it once between her fingers.

"Put the doll camera into sleep mode. And we are not to use the word 'surveillance' again."

Lior gave a small nod.

"What should it be called instead?"

Celestina looked at him, expression calm.

"Safety observation."

Lior was quiet for a second, then answered at once.

"Renamed 'safety observation.'"

The corner of Celestina's mouth moved slightly.

Language matters.

Change one word, and many things become easier to accept.

True for systems. True for people too.

Celestina turned her head toward the window. The night was deep; the fountain with its guardian goddess in the courtyard had gone quiet with the dark.

She unscrewed the perfume cap and pressed it gently.

In the study, bergamot peel and petitgrain drifted faint; the heart note of white tea pressed down the coolness, and the base - limestone after rain - laid a near-undetectable ground beneath. The scent spread through the room and merged with her own pheromones so seamlessly there was almost no telling them apart.

Satisfied, she set the bottle down and finally picked up the tablet again to reopen the report.

But a few lines in, she looked up once more at the screen that had gone dark.

"Ordinary friends."

She said it low, with a patience that was almost tender.

"That much is allowed."

First, friends.

Until she discovered that a friend could become the one person she could least afford to lose.