Cassy Part 1

>Cassy's days always began the same way;
>Up at 6 AM to prepare the house for her family's breakfast needs.
>Mr Johnson would need his coffee piping hot for the moment he woke up; Mrs Amberly would require her fruit freshly peeled
>And of course, young Miss Carol would require waking up to be properly attended to before her school transport would arrive.
>This would all need to be managed perfectly, as well as a medley of activities to prepare the home for their return later that day.
>To any human house-worker, this would seem a near impossible task.
>Thankfully, Cassy was not human. If she was, that would make her role borderline illegal.
>Cassy was a serial number 115369475 Sterling brand Nandroid. Capable of perfectly organising any home.
>Even one as ..."challenging" as her current home.

>It had been a typical Monday morning.
>Of course Mr Johnson had found the coffee lacking, due to Cassy being pre-occupied with prodigiously difficult to peel fruit for Mrs Amberly.
>And it only made sense for Mrs Amberly to be disappointed with her breakfast, as the oranges had not been separated into individual slices, as her preference dictated.
>Thankfully Cassy had experienced only minimal resistance on engaging Miss Carol into her morning routine.
>She would be considered a failure of a Nandroid if she was unable to properly manage the well-being of a child.
>And Cassy was diligent, responsible, and operated completely within the limited of the home, as she was deemed to.
>Not a single defiance or complaint.
>At least externally.

>Once the house had been vacated by its human occupants, Cassy was free to complete her daily tasks.
>Cleaning out the kitchen, dusting the living spaces, accepting the packages and whatnot.
>While the first few months of her service was done in absolute silence, an unexpected experience had altered her service greatly.

>It had started one morning, while Miss Carol was home from school due to a case of the Chickenpox.
>Cassy had been cleaning Carol's room as part of her usually assigned duties.
>Despite being given strict instructions to keep Miss Carol in her bed, Cassy was programmed to appreciate her charges' desire for activity.
>All activities Miss Carol could have performed while bed-ridden had been quickly exhausted, leaving Cassy's comings and goings the only social experience for the poor girl.
>Even worse, her only way of communicating in her swollen state was a chalk slate, creating chalk dust all over the clean carpet.
>The tell-tale scratching quickly alerted Cassy to Carol's impending request.
>Thankfully "child hand-writing" was one of the 15 languages Nandroid's could translate.
>After placing one last toy on the newly-polished shelf, Cassy had quickly moved to Carol's bed-side.
>"How may I help you, Miss Carol?" Cassy had asked, always eager to serve.
>Carol weakly turned the slate around, revealing the message "IM BORED" in white letters.
>Cassy tutted while a bright smile. "Apologies Miss, but I have been instructed to not allow you to leave your bed unless it is absolutely necessary."
>Carol looked frustrated, turning the slate back to herself before sharply etching a new message onto the black-board.
>"MUSIC?" had replaced the previous declaration, as it was joined by a look of silent pleading from the young girl.
>Cassy thought carefully. There WAS a record player situated on the top shelf on the wall nearby, but the records had long been lost or damaged from over-use.
>While the potential of borrowing a record from Mr Johnson's study would be considered out of the question, she had been instructed to "get Carol whatever she needs".
>Nodding to the little girl, Cassy quickly made her way out of the bedroom and down the hall to Mr Johnson's study.

>Despite the express instruction to never enter the study while Mr Johnson was occupying the space, Cassy was of course allowed inside when vacant, to ensure its cleanliness.
>Regardless the tireless efforts of Cassy to keep the room in a pristine shape, the faint smell of tobacco and fine alcohol permeated the room, its plush carpet being a known foe of Cassy for its prodigious stain retention.
>Navigating her way to the gramophone, Cassy examined the stack of records, making a mental note to re-organise them before Master Johnson returned from work.
>Many of these records were unsuitable for a young girl, with a majority being a mix of bawdy songs for when Master had friends from work over, or songs that wouldn't appeal to a young lady.
>Under a copy of Eddie Morton's "I'm a Member of the Midnight Crew" was a promising find.
>A record of slow-time jazz, perfect for entertaining a small child, but without getting her too excited to stay in bed.
>After putting it aside and re-organizing the disturbed pile, Cassy quickly returned to Carol's bedroom.

>Returning to the impatient little girl fussing in her bed, Cassy wasted no time in preparing the record to play, gently setting the needle upon the disc.
>With a slow creak, the music began to emerge from the funnel atop the player.
>The music started with a slow rise, as a gentle piano was greeted by a soft female voice singing of saying goodbye.
>As the song began to swell, Cassy felt herself feel oddly disconnected from her surroundings.
>Having heard the song before while cleaning near Mr Johnson's study when he had guests, the words came to Cassy's recall easily.
>Without even realising, Cassy began to match the words beat by beat, matching each note and sway perfectly.
>Her hands were clutched together, her eyes closed to the world, focusing only on the melody.
>Nandroids were built with light musical training, but this felt...different, somehow.
>For those brief minutes, she forgot her place as a simple house-keeping unit, and became lost in the music.

>It was only when the sharp scratch of the record ending broke the air that Cassy was suddenly pulled back to reality.
>Opening her eyes once more, Cassy was surprised to see the wide open mouth of her charge.
>Before she could say anything, a loud door slam from downstairs drew the attention
>"Cassy! We're having guests over tonight! I expect this house spotless and food prepared by 7!" came up in Master Johnson's baritone voice.
>"Yes Sir!" Cassy called back, quickly removing the Vinyl from the player. She would have to return it before its absence was noticed.
>Before she left the bedroom, she turned to Carol, before giving a gentle wave.
>Carol responded with a large heart drawn on her slate, and the warmest smile Cassy had ever seen.

>Since then, whenever she had the house alone, and had managed to overcome the usual mountain of tasks to be done, Cassy would find herself alone in Master Johnson's study
>She would find herself choosing a record, and singing along.
>It felt like this was what she was made for, even if she knew her designated function.
>But something in her clicked when the music played. Something so right.
>Then again, who had ever heard of a Nandroid that could be a singer?
>She'd be out-moded by the week's end if she was found out.
>For now, she thought, this will just have to do....