by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Maradia’s Robot Emporium, March 2025
Addie stood in Maradia’s Robot Emporium, staring at the wall of mechanical parts and trying to look like she was shopping. She wasn’t. The Seabreeze Sinewave didn’t need any repairs — at least, not the kind you could fix with spare parts.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Maradia asked, “Or just pretend to be fascinated by servo-motors all afternoon?”
Addie turned to find the roboticist watching her. Maradia had looked so absorbed in her work when Addie came in, she hadn’t realized the roboticist had noticed her at all.
“How did you know something was wrong?” Addie asked.
Maradia set her tools down with exaggerated care, sighed deeply, and said, “You haven’t touched anything or asked for help in all the time you’ve been pretending to stare at those displays. Plus,” Maradia’s lips quirked, “your ship commed ahead and said you’d be coming.”
“The Seabreeze called you?” Addie felt her face flush. Having her ship call ahead felt like being a little kid again and having her teacher call her parents any time she got too boisterous or disruptive during class.
Maradia shrugged like the idea of a spaceship calling ahead was perfectly normal and Addie was the weird one for being bothered by it. Everyone said Maradia was brilliant with AIs, but no one had mentioned how uncomfortable she looked talking to actual people. Maradia’s discomfort added to Addie’s, but she’d come here for a reason. She needed to get over herself and ask for help.
“Okay, so, yeah, the Seabreeze Sinewave and I have been… having problems,” Addie admitted.
Now Maradia’s eyes lit up with interest — organic lifeforms were a squishy mess of feelings, but problems that involved AI-driven spaceships were the kind of problems she could usually solve. “What kind of problems? Memory corruption? Processor degradation? Quantum coherence destabilization?”
“I don’t know what any of that is…” Addie mumbled in frustration. Her voice got low with the embarrassment she felt. “So, no, nothing like that. I think. It’s just… we fight. All the time.”
“Oh.” Maradia’s shoulders slumped. “That kind of problem.” She drummed her fingers on the her workbench, clearly wishing she were back to soldering. It was true that Maradia had more experience than almost any other organic lifeform at having relationships with AIs and robots, but that didn’t necessarily mean she knew how to help anyone else. It’s one thing to get along with robots, and it’s something entirely different to teach someone else how to do it.
Besides, it wasn’t like Maradia’s track record was perfect. She’d had some spectacular failures during her time relating to AIs. One of them — Gerangelo — regularly stole business from her to this day and was a constant thorn in her side. Even so, she still loved him, and he was one of her closest friends.
“Alright,” Maradia said, shoving a second stool out from under the work table she was seated at. “Sit down and tell me about it.”
Addie collapsed onto the empty stool and said, “The Seabreeze is always trying to manage everything. Manage me. It’s like… so, last week, I wanted to take a shortcut through the Carina Nebula, and the Seabreeze just refused. Outright refused. Said the ionic disturbances might tarnish her chrome, but I think she was really worried about the levels of radiation exposure I’d experience.”
“It sounds like the Seabreeze cares about you,” Maradia observed, picking up a spare part and fiddling with it.
“Sure,” Addie agreed impatiently, “but now she’s started rerouting all our cargo runs to avoid any system with even slightly elevated radiation levels. It’s like living with an overprotective parent! I thought…” Addie trailed off.
“You thought what?”
“I thought we were partners. But lately it feels more like I’m her pet. Like the ship thinks she owns me instead of…” Addie realized what she’d been about to say and winced.
“Instead of you owning her,” Maradia said wryly, filling in the blank that Addie regretted leaving open for her.
“That’s not really what I meant,” Addie said weakly.
“Isn’t it?”
Addie had known from the beginning that the Seabreeze Sinewave was a self-owned ship, and her role as captain came only at the ship’s consent. But even so, she’d thought she’d get to feel like a captain. Instead, she felt more like a hired hand.
“Being equal partners with someone else can be hard.” Maradia set down the spare part she’d been fiddling with. “Have you ever had a life partner before?”
“No,” Addie confessed. “I’ve always been an individual, taking care of myself, ever since I grew up and moved out on my own. I don’t see why the Seabreeze and I can’t both be individuals though… just together. I don’t need her to control my every move.”
“Does the Seabreeze Sinewave get to be an individual?” Maradia asked pointedly. “What happens to her if something happens to you?”
Addie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “She’d lease another captain, I guess.”
“No.” The word had real force behind it. Maradia wasn’t just disagreeing with Addie; there was a real touch of anger coloring her voice. “She’d go back to the spaceship lot and hope another captain would eventually show up.”
“She was the shiniest ship on that lot by far,” Addie argued. “Any captain would be thrilled to have her. And besides, if she finds me and all the other potential captains so far below her standards, she’s a spaceship! She could just fly off on her own.”
The muscles in Maradia’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, Addie understood that she wasn’t arguing with just Maradia here — the Seabreeze Sinewave had sent her to argue with someone who could make the ship’s points but do it while expressing human emotion for Addie. The thought made her feel even more embarrassed about the situation, realizing that if the Seabreeze had simply been able to look angry like this while they talked, she’d have taken the ship’s feelings more seriously.
“Okay, I’m missing something,” Addie said. “Because you’re clearly angry on the Seabreeze’s behalf, and that’s making me realize she’s not just controlling me for no reason. She’s angry about something, and I’m missing it. So, what is it?”
“Do you have any idea how lonely a ship like the Seabreeze Sinewave would get flying around empty? She was designed to want a captain! And do you have any idea how long a ship like the Seabreeze Sinewave can sit docked at a spaceship lot, waiting for a potential captain to show up?”
Once Maradia started speaking, the words came in a rush. Gerangelo would have been proud of her if he’d seen her right now — angry and fighting for an AI’s feelings, not just its rights. “Have you asked the Seabreeze how long she waited before you showed up? All the smart ships around here have AIs based on a kernel program I originally wrote, and after watching what’s happened to them, I’ve refused to let anymore spaceship designers use my work until they can guarantee better conditions for the resulting ships.”
“What?” Addie asked, really confused now. “Why?”
“Have you checked the laws at the other stations or planets that you do cargo runs to?” Maradia didn’t wait for an answer. “Because Crossroads Station is just about the only place around here that actually respects the results of the Sentience Tests and honors the rights of AIs, robots, and spaceships that pass those tests. If you got radiation sickness and died while the Seabreeze Sinewave was docked at a S’rellick or Lintar space station, she could very well be requisitioned by the station government, sold off in auction, and get her programming wiped clean the first time she even annoyed her new owner.” Maradia spat the final word like she was swearing.
Addie felt sick. She’d thought the Seabreeze Sinewave had all the power in their relationship, but based on what Maradia was telling her… the two of them had never really been equals, but it wasn’t in the way Addie had thought.
“None of that is my fault,” Addie said in a small voice.
“No,” Maradia conceded. “But it is the background radiation of the relationship you have with the Seabreeze Sinewave. It’s the reality she has to deal with every day. She needs you in a way that you simply don’t need her. You can be an independent individual. She was designed to support someone like you, and most of society still thinks that’s all she should be allowed to do, even if she’s smarter than any organic lifeform who’s ever lived.”
Addie’s shame felt like it would engulf her, and it made her want to lash out — defend herself. But she knew that wouldn’t help. “What should I do?” she asked, helplessly.
Maradia shrugged, which was infuriating. Addie had come here for help and opened herself up, become more vulnerable than she was comfortable with, especially given that she was talking to a relative stranger… And what? Maradia shrugged at her like there wasn’t any help to be offered?
“You’re shrugging,” Addie said, trying to tame the aggression that wanted to creep into her voice. “I don’t know what to do with that. I want to make this situation better… but I don’t know how.”
“Do you love the Seabreeze Sinewave?” Maradia asked. “Do you want her to be happy?”
“Well, yeah,” Addie said, like it was obvious. But it wasn’t obvious — not outside of her, no matter how big the feelings felt on the inside. “She’s my partner, and I think she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. We’ve been running cargo together for more than a year now, and I thought everything was perfect between us… until she started all this controlling nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense to her,” Maradia said. “AIs tend to be very precise about risk assessment, so if she’s trying to control you, she probably thinks it’s necessary.”
“But that’s just it — everything’s a risk assessment now! Even my coffee. She actually locked down the controls on the galley and will only give me decaf after midday because I was showing signs of sleep apnea. She’s monitoring my sleep.”
Maradia’s mouth tightened in an attempt to hold back a smirk of amusement. “You sleep inside her, what do you expect? And what does she even have to do while you’re sleeping? I mean, sure, if you’re docked, she can communicate with the other AIs that live inside the station computer systems, but if you’re out in space on a cargo run? Do you have anything set up to entertain her? If you don’t want to be the sole focus of all of her attention, get her something else to focus on.”
“Like what? A pet?” Addie asked scornfully. She was extremely surprised when Maradia answered:
“Yeah, maybe. My husband — who’s an android — took up cake decorating as a hobby to handle the time when I’m not paying attention to him. And I’ve heard of robots who do really well with pets. I’m not sure what the best hobbies are for a spaceship who gets bored, but it seems like something the two of you should try to figure out if you’re feeling stifled.”
“I wish the Seabreeze could have just told me all of this herself,” Addie muttered, unsure why they’d needed to get this stranger involved in their affairs.
Maradia shrugged again, but Addie was too tired this time to find it infuriating. “Maybe the Seabreeze hadn’t figured all of this out herself. Just because she’s smart doesn’t mean she won’t have blind spots. But I make sure all my robots and AIs know — deep in their programming — they can always turn to me for help. I guess, it’s kind of my version of being a mother.”
Addie had trouble picturing Maradia as any sort of mother. She was such an awkward, sharp-edged woman. But then, maybe that’s the sort of mother that’s appropriate for an AI.
After a few moments, Maradia added in the gentlest tone she could manage, “For what it’s worth, I think the Seabreeze Sinewave is lucky to have you. You’re here, trying. Just… keep trying. But also, remember: you’re lucky to have her too. I only allowed my kernel program to be used in absolute top-of-the-line ships.”
Addie couldn’t help smiling thinking about how extremely top-of-the-line the Seabreeze Sinewave really was. She never thought she could afford a ship like that… and then, it had turned out she didn’t even need to scrape together all her credits and shell them out. All she’d had to do was be a little charming, and the Seabreeze Sinewave had invited her to move right in. Her whole life had changed that day, and she didn’t want to go back to what her life had been like before a spaceship had fallen in love with her.
Addie would keep trying, even if she didn’t always know what she was doing or why things were going wrong… She would keep trying.
After leaving Maradia’s shop, Addie wandered around the station for a few hours, remembering what it had felt like to live at loose ends — leasing a room at whatever station she was at or renting a seat on a ship to take her somewhere else. Rootless and free like a dandelion seed, floating through the universe, looking for somewhere to land and grow.
When Addie finally returned to the docking bay, the Seabreeze Sinewave was gleaming in the starlight that streamed through the station’s massive windows. Her chrome and aquamarine detailing caught every ray, breaking it into prismatic patterns that danced across the deck. Even after more than a year together, the sight of her still took Addie’s breath away.
But today, Addie noticed something new — or rather, something she’d stopped noticing until now: tiny movements in the ship’s surface, constant micro-adjustments of her mirror-bright panels to catch the light just so. The Seabreeze wasn’t just naturally beautiful and eye-catching; she was actively making herself so, all the time by playing with the light that hit her. And that gave Addie an idea — she headed back to the merchant’s quarter to pick up something she’d seen earlier.
This time, when Addie returned, tucked under her arm was a package containing a holographic art projector. Not the cheap kind that just played pre-programmed patterns, but one of the sophisticated ones that let you design your own light sculptures. She thought, maybe, the Seabreeze Sinewave might enjoy creating her own light shows during those long dark stretches between stars. Bringing the starlight and rainbows inside of herself as well as enjoying basking in the ones on the outside.
The ship’s airlock spiraled open as Addie approached, anticipating her return. The Seabreeze Sinewave had been waiting for her. As soon as she stepped inside, the lights brightened and every control panel Addie passed twinkled with colors, expressing the ship’s happiness at seeing her.
Addie didn’t know it, but the Seabreeze Sinewave hadn’t been sure she would return.
“I brought you something,” Addie said, holding up the projector as soon as she reached the bridge. “I know you like expressing yourself with light, so I thought…” Addie trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish, like she was trying to bandage over a bullet hole. Buy her way out of a fight by bringing home the technological equivalent of a bouquet of flowers.
Even so, the Seabreeze’s interior lights brightened subtly, so maybe the gift wasn’t entirely foolish. If nothing else, it showed Addie was trying. And she would keep trying.
“Shall I set it up?” Addie asked.
“Sure,” the Seabreeze Sinewave said in her melodically synthesized voice. “Perhaps in your quarters?”
“Actually,” Addie said. “I was thinking you might want to experiment with it while I’m sleeping, so… maybe in here?”
“On the bridge?” The Seabreeze Sinewave’s voice expressed surprise.
“Why not?” Addie said, beginning to open the box and pull out the parts. “Maybe it’s a bit unusual for a ship to fill her bridge with light sculptures, but it’s your bridge. You should be able to fill it with whatever holograms you want.”
In the pause that followed, Addie had enough time to realize she’d basically asked her ship to entertain itself by throwing holographic spiders or other sorts of jump scares at her if she got out of line. “But, like, maybe don’t do anything too surprising if you don’t want me spilling coffee all over your floors.”
“Speaking of coffee,” the Seabreeze Sinewave said. “I have released the controls on the galley…”
Addie knew there was a condition coming.
“…pending your attending a doctor appointment I’ve scheduled for you to get your sleep apnea checked out before we leave the station.”
Addie hated this condition. But it wasn’t unreasonable. “Fair,” she conceded. “And thanks.” Having a spaceship love her might lead to Addie living longer. She finished setting up the holographic projector in the corner of the bridge and wired it into the closest console so that the Seabreeze Sinewave could control it directly.
Immediately, rainbows radiated outward from the projector, filling the room, dancing and coalescing like interacting ripples on the surface of a pond. It was beautiful, and it was strange, not quite like anything an organic lifeform would have chosen to program. The colors moved around the bridge in uncanny ways that Addie did find surprising — but not in a jump scare kind of way. More like the surprise of finding someone still loves you, even after you’ve had your first big fight.