MICHAEL SULLIVAN: NEW DYNASTY

— 8 —

Michael woke to the sweet smell of coffee. For one moment, he thought he was back at the coffee shop with Hillary. Then he remembered where he was and groaned.

‘Also,’ he thought to himself. ’Why am I thinking about Hillary so early in the morning?’

He bolted upright. Across the room, Ava stood by his kitchenette. She was pouring water into his coffee maker.

”Good morning, Mr. Sullivan,” she said without turning around. “I hope you don't mind. I assumed you'd need some coffee after yesterday's events so I made you some.”

Michael stared at her. In the morning light streaming through his window, she looked even more lifelike. “How... how did you know exactly how I like to make my coffee?” he asked.

“Coffee residue in your mug, coffee grounds in your trash, the timer setting on your coffee maker.” She gestured to each item as she listed it. “Simple deduction.”

Michael swung his legs off the futon and rubbed his face. “So yesterday wasn't some weird dream.”

“No, it was not.” Ava turned to face him fully. “Are you feeling more comfortable with my presence today?”

“I wouldn't say comfortable,” Michael replied as he stood and stretched. “Let's go with 'less freaked out.'”

The coffee maker beeped, and Ava poured a cup and brought it to him. “Here it is, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Thanks,” he said automatically, taking the mug. He took a sip while gathering his thoughts. “So, Ava... where exactly did you come from? Who made you?”

Ava folded her hands in front of her. “I was created by Dr. Elena Korvich, a specialist in advanced robotics and artificial intelligence. My specific creation details are classified, but I was designed for adaptability and human interfacing.”

“Classified? What does that mean?”

“It means that I can't access some information regarding my origins.”

Michael frowned. “That sounds... concerning.”

“It is a common security protocol for advanced systems,” Ava explained. "May I ask what you intend to do with me, Mr. Sullivan?”

The question caught him off guard. What was he going to do with her? An advanced android worth who knew how much, sitting in his apartment while he could barely make rent.

“I don't know,” he admitted. “I didn't exactly plan for this.”

“Perhaps I could be of assistance in your daily activities?” Ava suggested. “I make a good housekeeper.”

Michael set his coffee down and headed for the bathroom. “Let me shower and think about this. Don't... don't go anywhere. Please.”

“I have nowhere else to go,” Ava responded simply.

Under the spray of his shower, Michael tried to make sense of his situation. What were his options? Turn her in to authorities? Who would he even call? Sell her? To whom, and wouldn't that be trafficking of some kind? Keep her? His apartment barely had room for him, let alone another... being.

By the time he emerged, dressed in his delivery uniform, he had decided on a temporary course of action. He'd keep Ava hidden until he could learn more about her.

“I have to go to work,” he told her. “You need to stay here.”

Ava nodded. “I understand the need for discretion. However, I should inform you that my power levels are continuing to deplete. The standard electrical outlet provides minimal charging capability.”

“What do you need? Some kind of special charger?”

“That would be best. My regular charging station would work perfectly, but if I don't have that, I could make a temporary charger using some specific metals and materials.”

Michael checked his watch. He was already running late. “What kind of metals?”

“Lithium, cobalt, nickel, and manganese are the primary components. Also, certain rare earth elements would accelerate my internal repair systems.”

“Great,” Michael muttered. “And where am I supposed to get those?”

“Consumer electronics contain many of these elements. Old batteries, phones, computers.”

“So you want me to dumpster dive for electronic waste?” Michael's voice rose in disbelief.

“It would be a temporary solution,” Ava acknowledged. “But without proper power, my systems will continue to degrade.”

Michael grabbed his cap from the hook by the door. “Fine. I'll see what I can find after my shift. Just please stay here. Don't answer the door. And don't make noises please.”

“I will comply with these parameters,” Ava assured him. She hesitated, then added, “Thank you, Mr. Sullivan.”

He paused at the door, struck by the sincerity in her voice. “For what?”

“For not selling me off. For considering my needs.”

Something about the way she said it made Michael wonder if there was more to her than she was telling.

“Yeah, well... just stay out of trouble.” As he locked the door behind him, he also wondered how many laws he was breaking by having what was essentially a sentient computer in his apartment.

The delivery shift dragged by slowly. Each package feeling heavier than the last as Michael's mind kept wandering back to Ava. When his supervisor complained about his distracted state, he blamed it on lack of sleep, which wasn't entirely untrue.

By mid-afternoon, he had made a decision. He couldn't keep Ava cooped up in his tiny apartment indefinitely. He needed to understand her capabilities and limitations better, and that meant testing her in the real world.

After clocking out, he stopped by a small electronics repair shop where a friend occasionally worked and rummaged through their discard bin, claiming he needed parts for a “home project.” The assortment of broken phones, tablets, and laptop batteries he collected earned him strange looks but no questions.

When he returned to his apartment, he found Ava exactly where he had left her.

“Your neighborhood has is quite fascinating,” she commented as he entered. “I've observed seventeen distinct language patterns just from auditory data through the window.”

Michael set down his bag of electronic scraps. “I bought you some stuff that might help with your power issue. But first, I want to test something. Can you go outside? Are you allowed to leave this apartment?”

“I am not restricted to this location,” Ava confirmed. “However, public exposure creates certain risks.”

“I want to take you to the park a few blocks from here,” Michael told her. “I need to see how you... interact.”

“That is reasonable,” Ava agreed. “However, my appearance may attract attention.”

Michael surveyed her critically. The metallic-white jumpsuit she wore was definitely unusual, but not entirely out of place in this era where craziness was fashionable.

“We need to make you blend in better,” he said as he rummaged through his closet and pulled out a hooded jacket and a pair of loose jeans. “These might help. Can you wear normal clothes?”

“Yes, Mr. Sullivan,” she said, accepting the clothing.

Michael turned away while she changed. It felt strange to watch her even though she was technically a machine. When he turned back, he was startled by how different she looked. She appeared even more human, and a bit vulnerable in his oversized clothes.

“The hood will help hide your face,” he told her. “Let's go.”