Captain Carston Borrows an Android

by Charles C. Cole

As Captain Carston’s ship pushed back into deep space, Earth quickly resembled little more than an innocuous blue dot. Carston had enjoyed his brief visit under an open sky but, in truth, he was more familiar, more comfortable, in tight quarters and artificial gravity.

He had been a circumstantial guest on the human-free planet, but now he was playing host. And he was catching up with the Earthling among them, an android looking for a change of pace. He discovered the android, Weed, standing quietly in a busy hall junction, back against the bulkhead. The ship’s crew noticed but proceeded, without pause, with their errands, giving the mechanical stranger a wide birth.

“There you are,” said Carston. “I thought you’d reconsidered your first interstellar voyage. In fact, I half-expected you’d commandeered a shuttle back to terra firma.”

“On the contrary, I’m here, as they say, for the duration, though I’m a little overwhelmed.”

“If you’re interested,” offered Carston, “the best place to see the multi-story engine in action is deck four, though you can feel her ‘purr’ from anywhere.”

“Humans operate the engine, right?” asked Weed.

“Technically, we drive the ship, but the engine does all the heavy lifting.”

“Does it talk?”

“Is it sentient, you mean?” asked Carston. “Like you, my friend? No. It beeps and squawks and flashes lights when certain subsystems go haywire. Don’t get me wrong, we are very dependent on its many intricately programmed algorithms. Let’s say it’s too busy for tea and conversation.”

Weed glanced at the large digital astrometric display on the wall. A tiny blinking light indicated their place in the heavens.

“Space is vast,” said Weed.

“No argument there.”

“Traveling such unimaginable distances must be hard on the human body. In fact, this is the perfect job for an android. Why, again, do you do this?”

“Without your assistance? Humans are a proud species,” explained Carston. “We left Earth, abandoning our mechanical workforce, thinking we were going to colonize the stars with little more than duct tape and fast ships.”

“It would have been so much easier with synthetics embedded in the crew. Am I wrong?”

“You have a point, I’ll say that. But we’ve done okay for ourselves. Wait till you experience the transport hub at Phoebus-2. It’s a high-tech mega-city in space.”

Carston noticed Weed lost in thought. “Perhaps a visit to the engine room will give you an idea of what we’ve accomplished these long years apart. I’ll escort you, but I promise not to hover; I’ve got some tedious administrative duties to attend to. Let’s meet in the galley in two hours.”

Two hours later, Captain Carston found Weed sitting in a quiet corner of the galley, staring at the expansive starfield outside. Carston grabbed a coffee and joined his pensive company. Why had he felt compelled to show this android his fellow humans at their best?

“What did I tell you about the engines? It speaks for itself.”

“If only it did,” said Weed, “I wonder what it would say.”

“I’m sure it would be proud of what we accomplish every mission. Are androids programmed with self-satisfaction?”

Weed turned to the captain. His normally emotionless face looked forlorn. “Captain Carston, may I borrow your shuttle to return home? This was a lovely offer, to share your spacefaring adventures, but I find, to my surprise, that I am missing my familiar surroundings. I am not sophisticated enough to drive the ship. I don’t know the first thing about space. I feel like I am just cluttering the halls.”

“Weed, I’ve got bad news and good news. You cannot borrow my shuttle, but we’ve already turned about. The mistake was mine. I was so excited to meet your kind, to impress you. One day your ‘people’ will join us, I’m sure, but for now you’ve done a wonderful job of restoring Earth to its previous glory, which I had only read about. It’s really a lovely little blue-and-green island. You impressed me. I forgot to tell you. I suppose I could have said as much without drafting you for long-haul duty.”

“Captain Carston, you have to understand, that for probably longer than you’ve been alive, I have thought of humans as my superiors. Many of my friends have spent scores of years trying to imitate how they thought you worked and lived. But, from what I see, we each have our strengths and weaknesses. And, honestly, I’m more comfortable with my tribe.”

Carston was true to his word and returned Weed. A small crowd of androids gathered at a distance. There was not a smile or wave among them. Coincidence? Weed disembarked without looking back. An oversight?

The android society and the human society went their separate ways... again.