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The Infinity Courts

Akemi Dawn Bowman
Chapters (52)
  1. Dedication
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dedication

This one is for the readers.

Thank you for following me into Infinity.

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1

“OPHELIA, IF IT WAS YOUR last day on Earth and you wanted to dress for the occasion, would you wear the potentially-too-short black dress or the hilarious Zelda T-shirt of an ocarina that says ‘Make It Rain’?”

The lilting voice from my O-Tech watch replies in less than a second. “I cannot have a last day on Earth, because I do not exist on Earth. And even if I did, I have no physical body that requires the use of clothing.” The sound is like a lake without a breath of wind. Smooth, clear, and unblemished. It makes the gentle scratch of ordinary speakers sound like they came from the Jurassic period.

My eyes drop to my wrist out of habit, long enough to catch the end of Ophelia’s speech as it flashes across the screen.

“That is unsurprisingly not helpful,” I say with a raised brow, holding the two options of clothing in front of me. “Okay, Ophelia, I’m going on a date: Do I dress up or dress down?”

“If you want to make a good impression, dress your best, as they say,” the programmed voice replies.

I toss the T-shirt onto the mess of blankets behind me and pull the black dress over my head. “Ophelia, nobody says that. But thank you.”

“You are welcome. I hope you have a wonderful time on your date.” Her cadence is similar to a human’s, but it can’t replicate emotion. It makes any of her well wishes sound… dry.

With a smirk, I glance at my reflection, my watch brightly lit to signal that she’s listening. “Ophelia, why do I get the feeling you’re being sarcastic?” I tug at the hem of my dress and make a mental note to avoid sitting down at all costs.

“I am not programmed to be sarcastic, but I do have a collection of jokes. Would you like to hear one?”

I snort and pull my hair up into a high bun. It takes three tries to get it right because apparently my hair is as stubborn as I am. “Okay, what have you got?”

“I have a lot of jokes about unemployed people, but none of them work.”

I shake my head and laugh, leaning toward the mirror to recheck my makeup. “As someone who does not currently have a job, I find that slightly offensive.”

“You realize you’re talking to a robot, don’t you?” My sister’s voice sounds from the doorway. She pokes her head in, eyeing the mess of clothes thrown around the room. “Whoa. What happened in here?”