Fafinyo III: The Final Battle

Fafinyo woke because Nyra was stealing the blanket trapped beneath his back.

“Recovering what belongs to me,” she explained.

“Then I’m protecting it.”

She pulled harder. He rolled aside and nearly fell out of bed. Violet morning light filled their room as Horizon Home stirred beneath Rep-Oluzion’s three suns.

“Eleven days left,” Nyra said.

“I know.”

“I didn’t say what for.”

The tips of his green hair turned pink. Their first Vaelari anniversary was approaching, and his hair had once again betrayed him before he could answer.

“My hair is not participating in this conversation.”

Nyra smiled. “Your hair answered before you did.”

He dressed in a gray shirt, black pants, and dark boots. No cloak or weapons. Then he stepped on a loose component, caught his balance, and proudly announced his improved reflexes. The part rolled into a box, knocking three tools onto the floor.

“Partial progress,” Nyra said.

They reached the kitchen laughing. Narek was already seated, and Vaela ordered Fafinyo to eat before he had even sat down. Nyra mentioned their anniversary. To his indignation, everyone knew about it.

“You talk to yourself while you work,” Vaela reminded him.

“That’s verbal concentration.”

The wall broadcast showed preparations on Vorzha-Kel for former Sovereign Xyrax’s trial. Its first hearing would coincide with the second anniversary of the patch that had ended the Imperial Network’s centralized control. An enormous black silhouette appeared behind restraint fields.

Vaela lowered the volume. “Not during breakfast.”

A headline passed unnoticed: the Synthetic Permanence Movement had requested accreditation. Its emblem was a closed blue circle crossed by a vertical line.

Outside, Horizon Home crowded with food stalls, workshops, and small plazas. Species that had once met while fleeing now argued over prices. Organic and synthetic children chased one another around a fountain. Beneath a tree, a robot sat doing nothing, and nobody found that strange.

Raze waited at a used-parts stall.

“I need help,” Fafinyo whispered.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what for.”

“That improves the odds that I answered correctly.”

“I need a gift. For Nyra.”

“I’d rather you shoot me.”

Fafinyo examined a dusty regulator, insisting it was incomplete rather than broken. A familiar voice listed its corrosion, fractured conduction, and lost calibration.

“A.X.E.L.” Fafinyo closed his eyes.

The white robot approached. Raze asked him to confirm the regulator was junk.

“Classification accurate.”

“Take that back.”

“Classification withdrawn.”

Raze laughed. “Never thought I’d see a robot apologize to garbage.”

They continued past objects from reconstructed worlds. At an Aureli vendor’s stall, A.X.E.L. stopped before a transparent sphere. Glowing specks drifted inside like tiny stars.

“Dream dust,” the woman explained. “Its brightness changes during the night.”

Fafinyo watched his friend studying it. “You want it.”

“I do not need that object.”

“I didn’t ask if you needed it.”

A.X.E.L. paid twenty-seven nexus credits and carefully lifted the sphere.

“You just spent twenty-seven credits on something useless.”

“It produces illumination.”

“You have lamps.”

The robot looked at the drifting lights. “Withdraw the classification of useless.”

Fafinyo burst out laughing. “You’re turning into me. You keep things you don’t need.”

“I possess thirty-four objects of that nature.” He reconsidered. “Thirty-five.”

“There are two of them now,” Raze muttered.

The collection still carried the name Fafinyo had given it: A.X.E.L.’s Dreams. The robot considered that technically imprecise, but had never changed it.

After Raze returned to the workshop, Fafinyo noticed how carefully A.X.E.L. carried his purchase.

“You still want to know what dreaming feels like.”

“I can enter rest mode, create simulations, and generate random scenarios. None are equivalent to dreaming.”

“My dreams are usually disappointing.”

“You once dreamed Raze was three meters tall.”

“That one was excellent.”

“You classified it as a nightmare.”

“Because he was still angry.”

A.X.E.L. watched the lights. “I do not wish to be organic. But you can close your eyes and experience something you did not choose to construct. Absent people. Impossible places. I would like to understand it without observing it from the outside.”

Fafinyo’s smile softened. “If you ever manage to dream, I hope I’m in it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your best friend.”

He walked three steps before stopping. A.X.E.L. asked whether that was an official classification. Fafinyo looked away, his hair pink again.

“Don’t make this weird.”

“What is the difference between a friend and a best friend?”

The question was harder than expected.

“Someone you want around even when you don’t need anything from them.”

A.X.E.L. considered that. “The definition applies.”

“To me?”

“Yes.”

“Lucky you.”

“The probability of finding you inside an abandoned container was extremely low.”

Fafinyo laughed. “That almost sounded sweet.”

“I am learning.”

At the next stall, Fafinyo found greenish crystal threaded with pink veins. A.X.E.L. confirmed it had no mechanical function.

“Perfect. I’m going to build something.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“An idea.”

“Historically, that has been more dangerous.”

The afternoon passed without alarms or skies filled with warships. Fafinyo returned home with the crystal hidden in his pocket. Nyra glanced at it, then at his pink hair.

“One day I’ll learn to control this,” he said.

“I hope not.”

Dinner brought Narek’s chatter, Vaela’s corrections, and a dispute over how often Nyra had laughed at Fafinyo. Then his communicator vibrated.

Veyl wanted him at Horizon Base immediately.

“What happened?” Nyra asked, already standing.

“A.X.E.L. found something.”

They arrived to find Raze waiting, Sael studying a star projection, and Veyl leaning against a console. An emergency transmission had arrived forty-nine minutes earlier.

The map revealed a remote region, then an old designation: CACHE-404.

“There shouldn’t be anyone there,” Raze said.

“Correct,” A.X.E.L. replied.

Sael played the signal. Static, a distant impact, and a broken voice.

“...if anyone receives this... help...”

Fafinyo watched the blinking coordinates. Nyra stood beside him.

“I don’t like it,” Raze said.

“Neither do I.” Fafinyo breathed deeply. “I have a plan.”

“You lack sufficient information to formulate one,” A.X.E.L. observed.

“The beginning of a plan.”

Raze folded his arms. “Actually good, or good on the Fafinyo scale?”

“I’ve matured.”

“Available evidence is insufficient.”

Nyra laughed. Fafinyo looked around at them all.

“It’s good to be working with you again.”

On the projection, CACHE-404 kept blinking.