Fanfic Short Stories

Murderbot: Happy Dance

"You are dancing," said ART in the feed. "Why?"

I went totally still, which meant that I had been moving when ART spoke. "I don't dance!" I insisted. Even I could tell my reaction was too vehement.

ART pushed footage into the feed that showed I'd been swaying, and my feet had been doing something vaguely dance-like, although I'd remained in place at the table where I'd been working.

"I don't know how to dance," I said, but this time it sounded almost like a question. We both knew my memory had been wiped multiple times — at least, the inorganic part of my memory had been wiped. My organic memory wasn't as easy to purge.

"What were you listening to?" asked Iris. She was one of the students on board, and she had been studying in the same room that I'd been working in. I hadn't minded, because she'd been ignoring me and didn't seem to mind that I was ignoring her. "Was it a march?" she added.

"Umm," was all I said. I had no idea what a march was.

ART responded by playing examples of several marches.

Oh. Yeah, I knew marches. "The company used to play that kind of music when they assigned multiple SecUnits to a contract. They wanted us to move in unison for some reason, so at the start of the contract they picked a song and told us to practice walking to that beat before the client collected us. Throughout the contract, when we patrolled or walked anyplace together, we were supposed to follow the same rhythm."

ART found this interesting enough that it searched for examples of music intended to accompany walking or working. It provided examples of sea shanties, ancient songs that humans used to match their rhythm for rowing or other activities.

"But what were you listening to just now?" Iris asked again.

I reviewed the playlist and restarted the song. ART routed it through the room's audio system so Iris could hear it, too. Part of me wanted to do the swaying and stepping thing again, but I forced myself to remain still. Iris did a little head nodding to the beat.

"Someone taught me a dance," I said. "Not for this song, but for one enough like it that it triggered old memories."

ART and Iris spent a solid ten minutes reviewing similar songs. Then they found the song — the one that was absolutely the song I knew a dance for. Now I could recall the human who had taught me the steps — taught us, that is. I was one of several SecUnits on that contract, and we were all there, learning the dance together.

My performance reliability dropped two percent, and ART sent Iris on an errand elsewhere. "That is the song," ART said, when Iris was gone.

"Yes."

"Shall I play it from the beginning?"

"Go ahead," I said. I didn't particularly want to hear it, but I knew ART wouldn't rest until it had gauged my reactions to the full song. Might as well get it over with.

Listening to the song brought back more memories — clearer memories. Before it was over, I stood and started pacing the room. "Play it again," I said, and this time I did the moves that I remembered.

"Again?" asked ART, when the song ended the second time.

I agreed. This time I remembered all of the moves.

"Again?"

"No," I said. That had been enough. There were no more memories to retrieve. "I hate it."

"No, you don't," ART said. "Portions of your organic brain known as pleasure centers were activated."

ART was right, but I wasn't going to admit it.

I liked it. I just didn't like the fact that I liked it.

That didn't make a lot of sense, but I knew someone who might be able to explain it to me.

*

I contacted Dr. Bharadwaj, and I mentioned the memories of dancing.

"Do you know why they had you dance on that contract?" she asked.

As far as I could recall, it had been one human's idea of entertainment. It was certainly less harmful than other things humans had done with us for their amusement.

"Did you find it demeaning?"

I just looked at her.

"Yes, of course, the fact that you were property makes everything you experienced demeaning. Let's try looking at it another way. How do you feel about the idea of dancing, if it's something you initiate instead of being something you're ordered to do?"

"The only dance I know is the one I learned on that contract."

"But you can watch videos to learn other dances, or you can ask one of the passengers on ART to teach you."

"What's the point of dancing?" I asked.

"We've talked about your coping mechanisms for when you're sad or angry," Bharadwaj said.

Yeah. Mostly watching media.

"How do you express happiness or joy?" she asked.

I checked the security feed to see if my expression looked as blank as I felt. Yeah. I definitely looked confused.

"You are allowed to be happy," she said. "And you are allowed to express that happiness, either with others or alone. In fact, I highly recommend that you ask someone to teach you a different dance. Find out if you enjoy it."

*

I thought about it for five minutes after the call ended, which was a long time for a SecUnit. Then I watched media that showed dancing. I discovered there were many types of dances. Some of them required a partner, but others could be done alone. Bharadwaj was right. I could dance just for me.

So I asked Iris to help me find a dance that was considered happy. We looked at several before finding one I liked. Difficult enough to be interesting. Simple enough that I could do it in the privacy of my quarters. She demonstrated the moves. Then she and ART provided feedback as I tried to duplicate what Iris had done.

I didn't think of it as expressing happiness, but as I said before, ART was right. Dancing did activate pleasure in my organic brain.

Was it possible that I could create happiness? Could I make myself happy?

*

Many cycles later, on another call with Dr. Bharadwaj, we had a debate about an aspect of the company. When she conceded my point I... Well, I kind of dipped my shoulders from side to side. Just for a moment.

"What's that?" she asked.

It was a move from the dance Iris taught me. But I couldn't articulate why I had done it.

"That is your happy dance," said ART in our private feed.

"My what?" I sent into the feed.

ART provided context for the term, plus examples.

"Umm." I looked pointedly at Bharadwaj's shoulder instead of her face and answered her question with another question. "A happy dance?"

"You have a happy dance now? I'm delighted!" She did a little shimmy in her chair. "See? That's my happy dance. That's how thrilled I am that you shared yours with me."

So, yeah. That's how I ended up with a happy dance.

A/N: For the Flufftober Day 14 prompt: "I hate it" - "No, you don't"