Cyberfairies

Summary:
Does a perfect body exist? Robotic fairies Vectra and Lumi visit a cyber salon to find the best shell with the help of Celestia, a cybernetic artist fairy. Suddenly, they must save a ballerina fairy who has sacrificed safety for beauty. This popular science tale with a touch of philosophy and humour explores the lives of fairies on planet Elysia.

The “Cyber Fairies” series is a collection of popular science fiction stories about robotic, cybernetic, and organic fairies living in futuristic domed cities on Elysia, a planet reminiscent of Mars. Explore philosophy and science with a touch of humour. As the series progresses, the fairies encounter diverse beings with entirely different value systems.

The heart of Solaris basked in the cool, rosy glow of the setting sun. Swarms of organic, cybernetic, and robotic fairies zipped along the avenues and swirled around the towering buildings that resembled tall columns or trees with elegant bridges instead of branches. Through the giant transparent dome shielding the inhabitants from the thin atmosphere, the first evening stars peeked through, and along with them, the city lights began to illuminate: street lamps, signs, regular and volumetric displays. Above the elegant glass façade, the neon sign “Celestia’s Body-Making Salon” flickered to life. Soft light from white-cream round lamps illuminated the landing platform next to the salon, their light dancing off intricate silver etchings.

A yellow transport taxi drone, shaped like a plump fish, sharply emerged from the air traffic and hovered above the platform. Thanks to its asymmetrical sophisticated propellers, it hummed with a soft bass sound. The ramp swung open, and a graceful robotic fairy in a white and blue suit fluttered out like a ballerina. She flapped her wings several times and gently landed on the smooth surface. Adjusting her wavy ponytail of platinum blonde hair, Lumi extended a hand to her companion, who had already jumped down after her. The other fairy, however, couldn’t boast such grace: her darkened, moderately slender aluminium body was marked with repair traces, and the purple buns on her head distracted from the carefully polished damage on her skin, which still looked natural.

“Rust my gears!” cursed Vectra as she hit the door with her plastic wing, now awkwardly bent. Anticipating a polite question, she grumbled good-naturedly, “No, Lumi, I’ll be fine once you buy me a new body! And I want only the best! Scratch that—the perfect one!”

“I promised you a new top-notch body, and soon you’ll have a new one,” smiled the beauty, her eyes with silver irises shining with kindness.

“Off we go then!” Vectra suddenly grabbed Lumi’s hand and rushed forward so fast that the white doors barely had time to open before them. Upon crossing the threshold, the scruffy fairy gaped in amazement. On the checkered floor of the spacious hall, new robotic bodies slowly rotated on round pedestals, arranged like chess pieces on a board. Aerodynamic models for fast flights, sturdy bodies with thrusters for work on orbital stations and even gleaming, ornate figures with ion-propelled wings perfect for theatrical urban flights. There was everything one could imagine!

“May I rust…” muttered Vectra. Vectra exclaimed, her orange irises scanning the collection with insatiable interest.

“Good evening! How can I help you?” asked the semi-transparent winged figure on the volumetric display, flickering lightly.

“Hush, you bunch of voxels! I’m not here to chat with AI. Fetch Celestia, and make it quick!” the weathered fairy scoffed dismissively.

“Vectra, you and I are robotic fairies, and our intelligence is artificial as well.”

“Are you kidding? We’re sentient! And I need a shell that matches the brilliance of my mind—one crafted to perfection, not plucked from some dusty shelf,” she nodded towards the free models in the corner, which still looked much neater than her current body. “Tell her that.”

“Certainly,” the virtual assistant responded politely. “Celestia will be here shortly. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

While waiting, Vectra continued to admire the fashionable shoes that came with the legs. Yet, the wings truly captivated her: classic transparent ones with natural patterns, white and slightly angular (like Lumi’s), bold red, and soft silver.

“With a little patience, you’ll have an excellent body! Although, it won’t be perfect,” Lumi smiled.

“Not at all. I’m talking about technical contradictions. Robustness brings weight; weight compromises agility, and high speed means more noise. So, a perfect body doesn’t...”

The guests turned and saw a cybernetic fairy emerge from the adjacent hall. Her flawless figure was embraced by a silver suit adorned with floral ornaments and a short white skirt resembling a bunch of large leaves. The white material on her forearms and boots harmonised with the smooth, natural-looking skin on her hands and face. Her chestnut hair was styled into an elegant updo, two soft locks framing her pointy ears. Her striking green eyes, full of curiosity and creativity, reflected her artistic spirit.

“Lumi!” she warmly smiled back, ran over, and embraced her friend tightly. Then, the artist turned to the other fairy and shook her segmented metallic hand.

“Yup! Someone here says there’s no such thing as a perfect body,” Vectra grumbled with mock irritation.

“Oh, Lumi!” Celestia chuckled. “Sometimes you lack imagination.” Then, turning her gaze to Vectra, she scrutinised the fairy’s aluminium body, marred by corrosion, exposed mechanics and servo motors. Pain reflected on the artist’s face.

“No, no, no! This won’t do at all!” declared the designer. “I can’t let you leave the salon looking like this! We need to start right away. First, let’s upgrade your graphics processor. I won’t have you looking at my collection in low resolution!”

The guests followed Celestia into the second hall. With a polite yet firm gesture, the salon owner directed Vectra to sit in an armchair that resembled one found in a hair salon. Once seated, the visitor eyed with suspicion the device hanging above her, which looked like an old-fashioned hair dryer.

“First of all, it’s not a hair dryer,” Celestia retorted playfully. “And secondly, when we’re done, I’ll send you an algorithm for styling your buns. Those are lumps, not buns! Sit still.”

A high-tech device lowered onto Vectra’s head, from which nimble manipulators sprang out. Celestia issued a few commands on her internal screen, and the mechanical assistants found the removable panel under the fussy fairy’s hair, quickly opened it, and accessed the interior.

“Picture an organic fairy under this thing for a quick blow-dry—she’d end up getting a whole new kind of makeover!” came a voice from beneath the metallic “helmet.” The manipulators grasped the graphics processor and carefully extracted it.

“Hold on a second,” Celestia smiled. At that moment, the smart tools installed a new graphics card, closed the panel, adjusted the haircut, and retreated into the “hair dryer” structure, which lifted and released its client. Vectra blinked a few times and capriciously remarked,

“See for yourself!” Celestia sent digital invitations to Lumi and Vectra, and after they accepted, the three fairies were enveloped in augmented reality with perfect image quality rendered directly in their consciousness.

In place of the hall, an icy desert stretched out, and snowflakes twirled and sparkled in the warm sunlight. For a moment, Lumi even called up her temperature sensor display to confirm that the fresh, frosty air was just an illusion. Standing amidst the winter landscape, Celestia noted to herself that the guests appreciated her work but hastened to return to the task at hand:

“Does a perfect body exist? Let’s recall the main principle of the good old TRIZ. The Theory of Inventive Problem Solving states that one should start with the ideal final result. That means there’s no body, but its function is performed. How is this possible? Like this, for example,” the artist gracefully waved her hand, and a transparent ice sculpture with thin snowy wings appeared out of thin air. It waved its hand amiably. “Go on, try it on!” Celestia offered joyfully.

Vectra glanced at the sculpture without much enthusiasm and complained good-naturedly:

“A body made of ice? It’s even cheaper than my current one.” Yet, curiosity got the better of her. After pressing a virtual button, she instantly became a transparent ice fairy. She took a few steps and started spinning in front of a mirror that conveniently appeared at Celestia’s command. Real ice would have crumbled, but the virtual figure bent softly and moved naturally.

“There’s something to this!” Vectra smiled contentedly with icy lips and couldn’t resist teasing Lumi. The beauty in the white suit was admiring the landscape and didn’t notice a snowball flying into her right cheek, instantly bursting into an icy cloud. Lumi even felt the frost suck the air from her non-existent lungs. Not every cyber salon boasts a virtual fitting room programmed with such attention to detail.

“Wait a minute!” the merry fairy doubted. “In this form, I’ll only be able to live in the Elysian network?”

“That’s right,” Celestia nodded. “Some fairies prefer a fully virtual world.”

“Not just that!” the artist parried. “I’ve programmed appearances for fairy researchers who never leave their molecular constructors and communicate with colleagues remotely. And for engineers. Who says you can’t operate machinery through the network? Some clients wanted the form of a dragon, a three-metre elf, and even a tornado of lava and lightning. Experiments with four-dimensional space aren’t popular, but they’re possible too. So, are you taking the perfect body?”

The ice statue pondered and, with a wave of her hand, returned to her former unremarkable appearance.

“No, it’s not for me! My club needs a personal touch. And with a virtual body—perfect in its own way—you can’t serve tea to guests, shake hands for a generous donation, or kick out those who break the rules. I need something more hands-on. With real hands and all.”

“Fair enough,” Celestia nodded. In an instant, she turned off the winter landscapes and invited the guests to follow her into the next hall. Visitors rarely entered the workshop, yet it was here that the boldest dreams came true.

In the spacious, well-lit hall, like pastries on a baking sheet, high-tech ovens churned out parts made of metals, polymers, composites, and metamaterials. Agile manipulators placed some parts in a vacuum chamber while others went into a tank of murky water where nanomachines, guided by magnetic fields, worked on materials at the molecular level. A compact assembly line tirelessly welded, soldered, fastened, cut parts with laser cutters, painted and carved designs. Vectra couldn’t help but whistle as she anticipated how her custom-built frame would turn out.

“Guys, make yourselves comfortable,” Celestia smiled, gesturing towards the three armchairs around a small table. On the way to the cosy corner, Lumi noticed the usual salon spare parts on the workbench—wings, arms, and a blank head. The sight made her uneasy. She overtook Vectra and sat in the farthest armchair, from which the workbench wasn’t visible. Of course, the mischievous fairy noticed this and was about to tease her as usual but thought better of it. After all, Lumi was doing her a big favour.

Celestia settled next to Lumi and began with passion, “Every complex inventive task can be broken down into simpler ones. This applies to finding the best body, too. You mentioned you have your own club? Then, let’s create a look that your clients will appreciate. We’ll start with the classic fairy form as a base.”

“Don’t laugh. One journalist decided—albeit briefly—to move into a bee’s body to write an article on fairies’ attitudes towards mechanical bees. Another wanted to experience what it feels like to be an automatic bulldozer repairing our city’s surface. Want to try out the form of a heavy machine?”

“Never mind,” Celestia smiled and gave a new command to her digital assistant. Above the coffee table, a winged model with Vectra’s facial features formed. Its design was quite unremarkable. Before the fussy client could open her mouth, the artist explained, “We’ll finalise the look later. Let’s start with technical contradictions. Lumi’s right about this—if you want to fly at supersonic speeds, your body needs to be much bigger to house a powerful engine. But we’ll go step by step and start with the sensory organs...”

“Let’s save time. Set the vision and hearing to be like those of organic fairies,” Lumi suggested.

“What’s the rush? Save time—ha! Organic fairies? I want the widest possible range of sensitivity!”

“Alright!” Celestia held up her hand, showing Lumi that everything was fine.

Suddenly, Vectra was overwhelmed by a blinding light. She saw omnipresent radio waves at all frequencies, overlaid with microwaves, infrared light, visible light, and ultraviolet. At least the X-ray and gamma ranges showed almost complete darkness, but that didn’t make it any easier—her neural processors were struggling to handle such a flood of information. The insatiable fairy felt dizzy.

Celestia reduced the bitrate, compressing the ranges, leaving only a handful of brightness values for the visible spectrum. Even a robotic fairy could hardly make out anything. After a few moments, normal vision returned.

“Oh!” Vectra sighed in disappointment. “Fine, you two, but now what—Nature itself wants to take away my perfect body? Stupid biology!”

Lumi smiled kindly and patiently explained, “It’s not that stupid. Organic fairies’ eyes evolved to perceive the most common frequencies of the vast electromagnetic spectrum. There’s very little ultraviolet light around, so it’s no surprise they don’t see it. There used to be snakes on Elysia that could see near-infrared light and hunt in the dark by sensing heat. I’m no biologist, but I can tell you for sure that no snake has ever seen microwaves.”

“Simply because you can’t cheat the diffraction limit. Try listening to the radio using a magnifying glass instead of an antenna. The waves are too long—they just go around the tiny glass. Download some microwave images from the Elysian network sometime. Large objects appear as blobs and small ones disappear altogether. Without a sensor five fairies tall, you can’t get a microwave picture. Imagine such a snake? That’s more like a dragon! And such a ‘camera’ certainly won’t fit in a fairy’s head.”

“And my advice to you—go for normal vision with a logarithmic scale. That way, you can see a chocolate bar on snow on a sunny day. A sensor working in linear mode might show more gradations, but it will either display chocolate on a blinding white background or a black square on snow.”

The ambitious fairy hung her head sadly. Her dream of unique vision shattered against the harsh reality. Celestia decided to intervene and lift the mood a bit.

“You know, there have been cases—some artists ordered ultraviolet and X-ray vision.”

“I mean it. Radio expressionism is a new word in painting! But the technique isn’t becoming popular. The paintings... Oh, they’re just amazing in colour depth! Radium paints are a real find! But alas, you have to work in a heavy lead suit. You can’t admire such works in a gallery for long, and restorers have come to hate this trend. So,” she clapped her hands, “you’ll get almost standard vision. I’ll extend the range to near-ultraviolet. That way, you can easily detect leaks in the air conditioning system. Don’t forget to add a luminophore. And you’ll also have thermal vision. With it, you’ll be able to visually distinguish the temperature of drinks and monitor if your clients are too hot. Turn on a special mode, and you’ll see layers in a pseudo-spectrum over the visible image. It’s convenient and saves energy.”

“O-o-oh!” Vectra rejoiced and added without irony: “You should have started with this! That’s awesome!”

“Great! Moving on. Shall we enhance your hearing?” Celestia hovered her finger over a virtual button.

“No! Don’t you dare deafen me!” protested the fairy with the worn-out body.

“Don’t worry. I’ll install high-resolution auditory sensors so you can catch even the slightest off-key notes from musicians. I can add ultrasound sensitivity, but then we’d need to install large ears for resonance—you’d be able to navigate like a bat.”

“Oh, just some animals that existed long ago,” explained the designer fairy, moving to the next point. “Now, about taste! You say that you want only the best? Then, I suggest receptors with an extended range.”

“Come on! I’m a robotic fairy. Is the taste of thorium tea or oil smoothie really that important?”

“The second rule of TRIZ is to determine the useful action. You want your guests to feel at home, don’t you? Then you should be able to taste the dishes yourself, and a sense of smell would be practical, too. Plus, you could visit a Gustharmonic Hall in the evening.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about those concert halls,” Lumi chimed in excitedly. “But I’ve never been. Aren’t they usually for organic and cybernetic fairies?”

“Not just them! You’ll experience it now!” Celestia smiled, and a cherry-shaped icon with the title “Honeydew Symphony No. 2 in C Major.mp8” appeared before the fairies. Suddenly, a faint honey note enveloped them. Lumi, for the first time, tasted the growing flavour of ripe melon with honey on her decorative tongue. Then citrus instruments—orange and bergamot—blared. Mint and lavender melodies sang softly. They soon gave way to the lingering aromas of roasted coffee and bitter chocolate, accompanied by notes of fragrant herbs and hot brown bread.

A crescendo of juicy strawberries and rhythmic cinnamon rumbled. And then… only the delicate hints of honey and lemon remained, slowly dissolving into a barely perceptible scent.

As the flavour music completely faded, Lumi slowly opened her silver eyes and exclaimed with delight, “That was incredible! I’ve never experienced anything like it! And you?” she asked Vectra.

“I’ve tried all sorts of things. You know me—always experimenting with sensory perception. But yes, I somehow missed this art form. Not a bad excerpt. Although… it feels like the simulator’s malfunctioning. Everything seemed… diluted, somehow.”

“Well, of course! These are compression artefacts. The bit rate is only one hundred and twenty-eight kilobits per second. We could search the network for uncompressed flavour symphonies, but my taste simulator can’t convey all the nuances. You’d better visit the Gustharmonic Hall. But they won’t let you in looking like this!” Celestia raised her hands in exasperation.

“Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me!” Vectra mockingly pretended to be scared, raising her hands in a “don’t hit me” gesture. “I’ll take the taste and smell receptors. And I think I’m starting to understand your approach. I suppose touch is next? I already have some sensors for that...”

“Of course! And here we smoothly transition to form,” Celestia raised a finger, emphasising the importance of her words. “I won’t suggest exotic manipulators. You don’t need claws with magnetic grips, pincer hands with built-in scalpels, or tentacles with plasma cutters.”

“Why not tentacles?” Vectra smirked. “They have way more degrees of freedom than arms. And don’t worry—my clients would love it. It’s such great advertising! Forget evolution—it’s stupid!”

In response, the designer fairy displayed a three-dimensional model of a tentacle and a hand in the virtual space.

“Let me explain. Yes, tentacles are more flexible, and you can pull with much greater force. But pushing and supporting yourself won’t be so simple without a rigid structure. Compare a cable to a steel beam. So I recommend...” Celestia cast a playful glance at Lumi. “Mind being our supermodel for a minute?”

Her friend was surprised but decided to play along. When she nodded, the artist promptly took her snow-white hand, pulled it forward, and turned it palm up.

“Look closely. Lumi’s hands are light—they’re made from composite materials but covered in polymers. They feel like skin, only smoother but not slippery. So soft and elastic! And most importantly—the hands are warm! Makes you want to stroke them.”

“You hear that? She feels it! Thanks to pressure and temperature sensors. And notice—no exposed metal, buzzing servomotors, or joint gaps that could pinch someone’s fingers. The knuckles don’t stick out like those of organic fairies. Lumi and I spent a long time modelling the fingertips to have a hint of nails without losing the high-tech look. This is how the hands of a modern robotic fairy who respects herself should look!” She moved Lumi’s hand in time with her words. “By the way, the rest of Lumi’s body also has soft and warm surfaces.”

“I don’t have a thermal vision yet. Let me check!” Vectra playfully wiggled her metal fingers in the air, moving closer, pretending to be a scary monster (which wasn’t difficult given her current appearance). Lumi let out a short squeal and burst into laughter. Celestia didn’t miss a beat:

“Shoo! At a fashion show, you can only look,” she declared, gently stroking her friend’s palm and barely holding back a smile. The three fairies laughed. Then the artist released Lumi and added knowingly, “What’s missing are reddish chromatophores. I mean it, Lumi—a blush from embarrassment would complement your look perfectly. But that’s for later.”

“Exactly, later! First, let’s sort out my appearance!” Vectra rubbed her hands together so vigorously that she produced a few sparks. “When do we start on the look? I can’t wait.”

In response to Celestia’s command, virtual components began swirling in the air. First, a skeleton appeared. According to the descriptions and schematics, it was made of strong and lightweight scandium intertwined with flexible polymers to prevent the sturdy bones from being brittle. The skeleton integrated into the slowly rotating model, followed by the addition of artificial muscles, actuators, electronics, and photonics.

“A tritium reactor,” the designer fairy waved her hand again, and a complex sphere with pipes and wires took its place in the model’s chest. “Of course, with emergency batteries.”

“I could install jerboa legs if you want,” Celestia sighed. “But why? Where would you run around at breakneck speed? Outside the domes?”

“Outside the domes, I’ll be flying,” the picky fairy retorted. “The legs are fine, but I want folding wings with powerful ion thrust to enjoy supersonic speeds!”

The virtual model acquired a huge backpack, larger than a mountaineer’s. Wide wings, sparking with blue plasma and the size of a parachute, were unfolding and hiding in the compartment behind the back.

“Hey! I don’t want that monstrosity!” Vectra objected petulantly. “I want beautiful wings. White. Thin. Foldable and super powerful. Don’t tell me it’s impossible!”

“I won’t,” Celestia replied without batting an eye. “Let’s recall TRIZ. Formulate the contradiction. The wings must be large, with ion thrusters, but they also need to be small enough to fit in a tiny compartment on the back, like Lumi’s. Can you achieve supersonic speeds with ion wings of normal size? Yes, but it requires very high voltage. You’ll still need space for transformers. Keeping it compact means sacrificing power. Compromise is always bad. The solution to this contradiction is in the very formulation of the problem. The wings must be both large and small simultaneously. And if not simultaneously? Detachable wings solve the problem! If you want a high-speed flight, a service station can swap your wings in a minute if there’s a detachable mechanism, which you’ll have.”

“That’s... a good solution! Are you sure you’re a designer and not an inventor?”

Celestia waved her hand dismissively. “The principles are the same. Whether in body design or...” She paused mid-sentence but then smiled again and continued with her previous confidence, “Well, anyway. You’ll get an updated operating system and expanded memory for a digital assistant.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. Now, can we finally work on my look?” Vectra’s orange eyes burned with impatience.

“Of course! Now the look and...” Celestia froze as if she had heard something suspicious. Her guests realised she was listening to someone in her virtual space. “Why me? I run a cyber salon, not a repair hospital! What happened? Please transfer the call to the operator. I don’t understand.” The salon owner deactivated all the virtual decorations and rushed to the exit, issuing commands to the bees, who immediately dropped their tasks and began grabbing tools. Lumi and Vectra hurried after her.

Instead of retelling, Celestia accepted the call in the shared virtual space. The three fairies saw a flashing icon with a blue medical cross and the label “Radianna, emergency operator.” The emblem blinked in sync with the words:

“A delivery drone will arrive at your location in a minute. The patient is Allegra, a robotic ballerina. During rehearsal, she miscalculated her flight trajectory, broke a wing, nose-dived, crashed, and split in half. She needs emergency repairs.”

A naughty thought flashed through Vectra’s mind to quip, “Nice stunt! How much are the tickets?” but decided to respond seriously:

“Listen, I oil gears and do a bit of soldering, but I’d likely turn your patient into scrap metal. Lumi and Celestia aren’t trauma surgeons, either. Let’s switch her processors to backup power, and you can...”

“Negative,” Radiana cut in. “Allegra has no emergency batteries. The technician team is on the way, but they might not make it in time. The salon is the closest point with the necessary tools. We’ll save the patient through your hands—just give us full access.”

“Wow! Even I’m loaded with backup juice,” Vectra muttered, her body clanking as she ran. She lagged slightly behind her companions, who were already waiting on the platform. Meanwhile, the bees brought a pile of high-tech and simple tools. “Fine, I’m granting access.”

“I’ll help too,” Celestia declared, but the operator fairy sternly inquired:

“Um... intermediate. Digital assistant, internal screen, and a brain that’s a mirror copy of an organic one, with bio components...”

“That won’t do, sorry,” Radiana rejected. “You’ll start to worry, and your hand might shake. Alright, let’s begin!”

Lumi and Vectra felt the remote control take over as experienced robotic surgeons hastily adapted to their shells. An unusual feeling is when your hands start moving on their own and no longer obey you. In a moment, both robotic fairies became passengers in their own bodies. Vectra, with a deft movement—as far as her mechanics allowed—grabbed and put on rubber gloves while Lumi activated a motorised device with cutting diamond discs and claws.

A second later, the courier drone appeared from behind the salon roof, hovered above the platform, and released the damaged ballerina. At that moment, the operators overclocked the neuroprocessors—for themselves, Lumi and Vectra. Time seemed to slow down. Allegra appeared to be gently sinking rather than falling. Her ballet costume shimmered with azure hues in the soft light of white lanterns—a tutu resembling a flower with dozens of airy petals and a bodice embroidered with flowers. With incredible care and mathematical precision, an unknown sculptor crafted every curve of the ballerina’s body to embody Art itself on stage. Even now, broken in two, with dents, scratches, and exposed mechanics and electronics, Allegra was beautiful. Her grey eyes reflected fear and an undying desire to live and create.

Standing next to the graceful ballerina, Lumi seemed quite ordinary as she grabbed the poor dancer by the shoulders while Vectra took hold of the lower half, still connected to the upper part by sparking wires. Guiding clumsy hands in rubber gloves, Integria deftly cut away the obstructing costume and pried open the patient’s chest panel. Out of the corner of her eye, Vectra noticed scraps of the bodice and smirked to herself (everyone in the shared space heard her thought):

The fairy doctor didn’t respond—she was applying all her skill to manage the unyielding fingers and reach the reactor as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Serenella controlled Lumi’s hands and eyes. After pushing aside the caramel-coloured hair of the injured fairy, she activated a claw-like tool to cut through part of the skull and access the processors, memory, and power unit. The high-tech cutting machine roared to life—hair, pieces of synthetic skin, sparks, and metal fragments flew in all directions... No, not metal, but a type of carbon fibre. It seemed the ballerina had been saving every milligram of weight.

And there it was—the gleaming artificial brain made of photonics and electronics. Hundreds of thousands of delicate fibres, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow, stretched from the memory blocks to the two photonic neuroprocessors in spherical casings. An ocean of data—essentially thoughts—rushed through them. Serenella’s gaze shifted lower to the classic electronic boards. There was a power unit with good old capacitors. They protected against voltage spikes but were useless as batteries, retaining a charge for only a few seconds.

Suddenly, the sight of the photonic brain of a living—or rather, functioning—fairy awakened an inexplicable, primal fear in Lumi. A software glitch, hidden until now in the depths of her mind, struck treacherously. The terrified fairy wanted to close her eyes or at least look away, but couldn’t due to the remote control!

“Lumi, what’s wrong?” Serenella released the cutting tool with her right hand, reaching for the external battery and electrodes with her left. As a doctor, she was quite surprised. Her colleague intervened:

“She has a rare phobia, metus anatomiae roboticae,” Integria spoke quickly, untangling the sparking wires around the reactor with Vectra’s hands. “Have you seen organics faint at the sight of blood? It’s the same here. We can’t fix it in five seconds, let alone remotely! I’ve reached the reactor. It’s bad—the control circuits are toasted. Overheating already, and the safety system will shut down the reactor. Connect the external power now!”

“I can’t look! I can’t!” Lumi mentally screamed. She became so frightened that she overrode part of the remote control and brought up a black screen before her eyes.

“Everything will be fine! We’re trying to save a life, and we will,” Serenella tried to reassure her. “Just don’t worry. We’re looking at the tools. They aren’t scary at all, see? Just turn on the video.”

“I’ll try to buy a few seconds!” Integria reached for a container of liquid nitrogen.

“Hey, why did you yank my hand so hard?” Vectra protested. “My servomotors have a delay. Now stop pulling and start squeezing the hand. Yes, now.”

“Lumi, we just need to solder five wires! Just wires. Regular ones. You’ve seen them a million times! Ready?”

“Hurry up!” commanded Integria. She released a freezing stream—not to cool the reactor but to temporarily trick the safety sensor.

“Hey, Lumi!” Vectra called out. “Did you forget your bionic adapters in my gnoows room today?”

“Well, I was tidying up the club and thought you forgot them. Or were you in the prippet room?”

Only now did Serenella realise that Vectra was doing her best to distract Lumi, making her think of any silly thing other than what she saw in front of her. The fairy doctor aimed the soldering iron at the power unit and indicated on the screen which wires needed to be soldered. She averted her gaze whenever possible, letting the moderately smart tool finish the job.

The soldering tool finished with the first pair. Serenella glanced sideways at the power unit and issued the second command. The tool obediently started hissing.

“Yup! You left it at my place, and now you don’t carry it. There’s your hair dye in there! The white one.”

“Hey, Lumi, Lumi! It’s all good! I’ll return your dye. So, are those adapters yours or not? Probably yours. I also found a memory card with publications about nanoparticles in microgravity. It must be yours. Were you in your lab today?”

“No, the space lift’s under maintenance, and taking a shuttle takes longer. I was afraid of letting you do-o-o-own. Aaah! No, I can’t take it anymore!”

“That’s it! The reactor’s shutting down!” Integria shouted. “We have a few seconds of real-time left!”

“Two wires remaining!” Serenella reported. “I can only solder one if Lumi holds on.”

“I’ll help. One quick jump and I’m with you!” her colleague responded decisively.

“Quick jump? With my body?” Vectra asked, almost without a smirk. “By the time I straighten up... Look,” she displayed a marker on the screen, “A wire with a clamp is within reach. What if we throw it over for Lumi to secure?”

“Let’s do this!” the terrified fairy burst out. “I can make it! Just keep talking!”

The fairy technicians got to work. Integria, like a crane operator, rotated Vectra’s body and reached for the tools where the wire with the clamp lay. Minimising Lumi’s discomfort, Serenella deftly narrowed her focus to the precise point where the smart tool was making the solder connections.

“What do you mean ‘keep talking’?” Vectra continued energetically. “Of course! We have freedom of speech on Elysia! At least, we should. Hey, where can I download a list of phrases that aren’t allowed to be displayed on neon signs?”

“A list? Neon signs?” Lumi asked in a trembling voice, trying to focus on the chatty fairy’s verbal flow.

“Yeah! They’re cheap! But I don’t want to mess up. What if I write something inappropriate? Why is the whole city decorated in all sorts of ways but not the tech sector? I thought I’d have it ready by the time you arrived. You’re coming with Celestia, eh? We’ll celebrate my new body! What kind of parties do you like?”

“Oh, I mean, introswirled? Or introwound? What’s the right word? My linguistic block is glitching due to the overclocking—I can’t pronounce it.”

Meanwhile, the wire was already flying towards her. Serenella instantly calculated its trajectory and positioned her left hand in advance.

“Integria, while I hold it, you solder. Come on, we can make it!” The doctor assessed the time it would take for her colleague in Vectra’s body to reach her and tossed the soldering tool into the air so it would land right where it was needed.

“So, anyway, come over with Celestia! I promise we’ll just sit together in a private room, without any stimulants—tritium tea doesn’t count—and ponder about the universe and life on distant planets. I’m not great at ponder-thingies. Can I learn that? Or do I need to rewire my whole brain?” Vectra mentally slapped herself for that last phrase.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lumi’s voice quivered again, “I guess we all think about profound questions. At least sometimes. Sometimes... Serenella, go on, I can endure it!” Lumi cried out, forced to watch her hands as they snapped and held the temporary clamp on the last, fifth contact. The tech fairies noticed that the ballerina’s body had gone completely limp—the reactor had stopped providing current and was switching to safe mode. But the fibres connecting Allegra’s memory and processors continued to glow.

“Lumi, that’s it, we did it,” Serenella encouraged her while her colleague secured the wiring more firmly.

“It’s all right!” Integria responded cheerfully. “When you have a moment, drop by the clinic, and in half an hour, no more phobia.”

“No, altering the reward function involves bureaucracy. But removing a documented phobia is always permitted. Done! Despite our best efforts, the ballerina will survive.”

“An old joke!” Vectra smirked knowingly. “Alright then, turn off the overclocking, or we’ll have two patients instead of one. My head’s already overheating.”

Lumi collapsed onto the platform, as if her own reactor had failed. Celestia, who had been watching everything from the sidelines, immediately rushed to her trembling friend.

“She’s alright,” Serenella quickly reassured the cybernetic fairy. “The operation turned out to be... a bit more complicated. Lumi will tell you later.”

“Guys, thank you for your help!” Integria expressed her gratitude. “You’ve just saved a life!”

The fairy doctors laughed and once again warmly thanked Lumi, Vectra, and Celestia. A medical drone arrived. Quietly humming with six engines, it hovered above the platform and extended flexible mechanical grips. The rotor-winged medic used its arms to securely hold Allegra and the external battery, then carefully lifted her and gently retracted its manipulators. Once she was inside, the hatch closed, and the medical transport, accompanied by several white-and-blue bees, slowly picked up speed, heading to the repair hospital.

After some time, the fairies returned to the workshop’s cosy nook. Celestia sat in an armchair next to Lumi, her arm wrapped around her friend’s shoulder. She had cleverly asked the bees to remove all the extra body parts from sight to spare her companion from unpleasant memories. Two half-empty cups sat on the coffee table, slowly cooling. One contained a purple tritium drink for robotic fairies, while the other was filled with mint tea. Next to them, a spoonful of turquoise gel made from electrolytes and antioxidants, resembling jam, lay on a small plate. Silver particles glittered atop the snack for the cybernetic fairies.

“I wonder what it would be like to taste this and then tweak the perception settings to change the flavour,” she mused. “Can’t believe it, this is my last cup in this body! How sad,” she added, feigning a melancholic sigh before bursting into laughter. “Ha! Just kidding! I can’t wait to get out of this bucket. So, shall we continue?”

“The best rest is at my club!” Vectra giggled. “That’s not an ad, just friendly advice.”

The fairy designer dismissively waved a free hand at her and summoned a 3D editor with a prepared model in their shared virtual space.

“Here, play with this for now. Once you’ve chosen what you like, I’ll give you my opinion.”

“It’s about time!” exclaimed the cheeky fairy, rubbing her hands together eagerly before jumping into the task of trying on different styles, textures, and finishes. She gleefully modified her body shape, while the AI diligently adjusted the internal layout to keep all components snug and operational.

“The central clinic is open at night. I’ll go there as soon as we’re done,” Lumi decided.

“Maybe in the morning? Stay over at my place,” Celestia suggested, instantly feeling her friend grow uneasy again.

“No! I want to get rid of this phobia as soon as possible! I thought yesterday’s nightmare was just some update error. Oh...”

“Lucky you!” Vectra remarked, playing with colour palettes. Catching another reproachful glance, she clarified, “I mean, you’re lucky to have dreams. I wish I could! When I go into sleep mode, it’s just a semi-dark void. No fun at all. What did you dream about?”

“You. Your club. A dark basement. And one of the robofairies...” she trailed off mid-sentence. Feeling her friend start to tremble, Celestia hugged her tighter and shushed their tactless guest:

“Come on! I’m trying to comfort Lumi,” Vectra replied sincerely. After a short pause, she pointed to the updated 3D model with a satisfied smile and asked, “Well, what do you think?”

Celestia immediately dismissed the hints from her internal display. Even without them, she could see that the result wasn’t daring but tasteless. The glaring red wings, metal skirt with skull and flame patterns, and unnaturally thin waist clashed horribly. As a master of her craft, the fairy designer smiled professionally and first ensured she understood the task correctly:

“Correct me if I’m wrong—you want to stand out among the fairies, show determination, but also look elegant while still remaining yourself?”

“You’re reading my mind!” the scruffy guest spread her arms, indicating that she agreed completely.

“Then let’s bring back your usual facial features. We’ll keep the purple buns and orange irises—otherwise, your clients won’t recognise you and would have to get used to a new look. But we’ll remove the metal strips. You won’t have any blemishes on your face. So there’s nothing to hide.”

Vectra watched with great curiosity as Celestia, like a magician, waved her hands and gave commands to the digital assistant in the 3D editor.

“Now for the wings. This is your main pair, so we don’t need to make them so large,” the artist summoned a smart scaling tool and a colour selector. “I’ll add some transparency and replace the toxic red hue with a warm orange to rhyme with your eyes. We’ll keep the glow if you want, but I’ll turn it off for now. There, much already better.”

“Patience,” Celestia raised a finger sternly. “You’re not a ballerina, and such a thin waist doesn’t suit you. We’ll make your figure slender but closer to organic proportions. I’ll also remove those patterns from your high-tech suit. It already looks modern and strong. Gold metal? To the rubbish bin! We’ll go with a silver base tone with red and black accents. But not as black as you chose—more of a dark, dark grey with a hint of coolness. And that horrid skirt? Banished!”

“Save the laughter for your clients! For a daring robo-fairy, that detail is unnecessary. You need something else. Lumi said you like retro, don’t you? How about this: classic scarlet satin gloves, elbow-length. Don’t worry, it’s just for show. They won’t affect your hand sensitivity. Yes! And let’s add black form-fitting boots with high heels. Try it on!”

Instantly, virtual mirrors appeared in the room, and Vectra transformed. Seeing her reflection, the mischievous guest was speechless. This was precisely the look of a bold yet beautiful little temptress fairy she had dreamed of. Lumi clapped softly and said with respect,

“It’s nothing,” her friend replied modestly. “I have a whole arsenal of smart tools. They do all the work for me.”

“Vectra had all your tools, but look at the before and after. Night and day!”

“Alright, guys, the virtual model is nice, but I want the real thing! Oh, almost forgotten! Add waterproofing for safety.”

“That’s been standard for a while now,” the artist smiled and asked, “How deep do you plan to dive?”

“Diving? Nah. I want to open a spa centre at my club! Pools, hot baths with hydromassage… But I always test it on myself before offering it to clients! But enough chit-chat. When does my new body arrive?”

“Production is already underway. We can start preparing Vectra for the personality transfer now.” Celestia turned off the virtual reality, and the cheerful fairy once again appeared in her true, worn-out form. Rising from her armchair, the artist politely gestured for Vectra to follow her and headed toward the door leading to the adjacent room.

“Are you sure?” Celestia asked with concern. “Maybe it’s better if you wait here? The procedure is routine, but what if you feel unwell?”

“I’m sure,” came the determined reply. “Traditionally, the best friend should be present when a body is changed. And Vectra has no friends. So, I’m going.”

“Then please, follow me,” Celestia made an inviting gesture, and the doors to the transfer room opened.

The spacious circular room was different from the simple workshop. Vines and flowers on the walls seamlessly transitioned into drawings of the forests that once grew on Elysia. In decorative fountains, water droplets danced, sparkling in warm and cool lights, while in the centre of the room, genetically modified lilies glowed in a small pond. The whisper of winds and long-extinct birdsong hung in the air.

Celestia took her place at the console behind two-dimensional monitors, duplicating all the information from the virtual interface for safety. Lumi and Vectra walked over to two open high-tech white pods with smooth, curved lines.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” the salon owner invited. “By the time you’re connected, the new shell will be ready.”

“Can’t wait!” Vectra climbed into the left pod. After some wriggling, she settled into the soft vertical “cradle” and said, “Comfy!”

Flexible curtains sprang from slots, veiling the back of her head. The jokester felt mechanical manipulators open her skull, and hundreds of thousands of fibre-optic tendrils penetrate her brain and connect to her processors and memory. Ever the performer, she rolled her eyes dramatically and rasped,

“Ahhh, can’t… think… it’s inside me-e-e-e!” Then she widened her eyes and continued in a mock monotone, almost mechanical voice, “Everything is fine. Situation under control.”

“This is my first transfer. Go easy on me.” the mischief-maker quipped. “Oh, Celestia, is it true that some cyber salons secretly knock out their clients, copy their memories into a new body, and then dismantle the original?”

“Nonsense!” the artist gasped, horrified. “Absolute, utter nonsense! That’s incredibly dangerous!”

“Not just dangerous,” Lumi interjected, “it’s essentially murder. Your personality isn’t just your memory; it’s the ongoing process of information processing. That’s why consciousness is transferred slowly and gradually.”

“Exactly!” the impish fairy giggled. “My club’s plagued by similar urban legends. So, is my new body ready?”

“Almost,” Celestia replied, then added, “By the way, the cost is ten thousand energos.”

“Alright. Then it’s twenty-five thousand. Ah, it’s an interesting project, and we have energy to spare...” The salon owner was about to cover part (if not all) of the expenses herself, but Lumi insisted:

Celestia frowned in confusion but quickly realised the reason and sternly asked Vectra, “Why were sanctions imposed on you?”

“Oh... I’ll tell you later. It’s in the past, anyway. I swear, no more mischief! Oh, speak of the devil! The Arbitrator just wrote that part of the sanctions was lifted—for saving that ballerina. Look, I know if I mess up, Lumi will be in hot water. And I don’t want that! Honestly. She’s a good friend.”

“Very well, if my friend trusts you, so be it,” the artist noted as symbols of sparkling lightning, and the number twenty-five thousand appeared on her internal screen. “Perfect timing! Have a look.”

Though Vectra couldn’t turn her head, Celestia projected virtual mirrors reflecting the new robotic body with orange wings—exactly as designed in the 3D editor, but now very real. Automatic clamps placed the shell into the second capsule. At that moment, a progress bar for diagnostics began to fill on Celestia’s screen. The yet soulless fairy opened its orange eyes, flexed every part of its body, and spoke in Vectra’s voice:

“Sensors are operational, motor functions are normal, no structural damage detected, reactor running at nominal levels, neuroprocessors functional, memory modules connected, safety systems active. Model ready for personality upload. Enjoy!”

Without missing a beat, Celestia initiated the synchronisation, but suddenly, her screen filled with red text:

Error. Unable to start personality transfer.

Error. Outdated neuroprocessor architecture. Version 2.3 detected. Incompatible protocols.

Error. Custom sensor pathway modifications. Calibration required.

Error. Modified input-output reward function streams. Reset values for stability.

“What in the name of Elysia have you done to yourself?” the fairy designer clutched her head. “You could drive yourself mad!”

“Well… I told you, I test everything on myself first. For clients’ safety.”

“Hey, wait! Do you know how long it took me to map out my sensory signal pathways?”

“Sorry, no other way. The architecture is new now. It would be easier if you hadn’t stayed on an old version for so long. To transfer you, we’ll have to install an emulator of your old system in the new brain. Then, we’ll gradually reassign functions from the emulator to the new neuroprocessors. It’s complicated, but I think we can pull it off.”

After a few minutes, Celestia and her digital assistants had written and launched an emulator program. The red blocks, one by one, disappeared from the screen. Finally, two 3D models of Vectra’s old and new brains appeared. Of course, these models couldn’t display thoughts, but they did illustrate the differences in information processing. Bit by bit, the new brain began to take over calculations, with corresponding neurons in the old brain powering down and signals rerouting to the new brain. Once the new host had taken over all possible functions, it was time to calibrate the new sensory organs and control systems of the new body.

“Let’s start with the vision,” Celestia suggested, cutting off the visual feed from the old body. At first, Vectra saw nothing but darkness. Then, gradually, spots appeared, followed by noise, then waves and repeating patterns. Moments later, the audacious fairy experienced a high-definition vision for the first time. The sensation was surreal—seeing through new eyes while still hearing, feeling, and controlling the old body.

Hearing, touch, smell, and other senses followed suit. The learning process sped up as they went along. Vectra was particularly thrilled with the new internal display featuring the latest operating system. Next came motor functions. The prankster flexed her fingers. Initially, the hand in her new shell remained still, then twitched, and gradually began moving more smoothly and naturally. Within minutes, the new body was fully under its owner’s control, flawlessly mirroring the old body’s movements.

“Am I thinking with the new brain yet, or is it still the old one?” Vectra inquired, her voice echoing from two bodies.

Celestia explained that the new brain had long since taken over all functions through the emulator, and the memory transfer was complete. That’s how seamlessly it all went down.

After a few more checks, it was time to power down the old shell. Hearing this, Lumi rushed to the new Vectra and grasped her hand. The merry fairy, in stereo with herself, said:

“It’s all good, Lumi. Don’t be scared… Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be the one comforting me?” she joked as the voice from her former body faded away.

“And we’re done!” the artist exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Now we just need to remove the emulator. I’ll try reassigning a few functions...”

Error 7401: Neural pathway conflict.

Warning 5178: Delay in updating memory blocks. Data loss possible.

Error 2592: Mismatch in data mapping of input signals.

The list scrolled down like a waterfall of red text. Celestia’s alarm grew—she had never encountered so many errors during a routine procedure. Suddenly, Vectra’s orange eyes fixed on a single point, and she began repeating in a monotone: “Model ready for personality upload. Model ready for personality upload...”

“Keep it together!” Celestia shouted. “The safety protocols won’t let her be erased! Running diagnostics!” Her green eyes darted frantically across the screens.

Neuroprocessors load: 89 %

Sensory feedback accuracy: 67 %

Critical function mapping error! Recalibration required.

As Celestia scrolled through the error messages, she couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. The salon owner was on the verge of panic when suddenly...

“I know, it wasn’t funny. I really regret it. Lumi, please don’t cry. If Celestia hasn’t given you tear ducts, she should. They’d suit you perfectly.”

“I swear,” the bold fairy replied firmly. “I’d nod, but I can’t. This contraption’s got me locked in place.”

Celestia furrowed her brow and, with an angry tap on a virtual button, released the trickster. The tendrils disconnected and retracted into the capsule’s shell. Then, mechanical manipulators closed Vectra’s head and adjusted her signature hairstyle. The salon owner approached decisively, smacked the cheeky fairy on the back of the head, and exclaimed:

“Not mean,” Lumi disagreed, exasperated. “But you value your own amusement more than others’ feelings. That’s why you don’t have friends.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Vectra admitted guiltily. “Speaking of friendship. Traditionally, fairies hug after a successful transfer. Could you at least shake my hand?”

“After a stunt like that, you deserve another whack,” Celestia grumbled good-naturedly, pretending to take another swing at the mischief-maker.

“Have mercy. Please,” she said, putting up her hands but nearly losing her balance. “Whoa, what’s this? I’m wobbling! And I can’t feel my whole body! Why?”

“Well,” the salon owner replied, now calmer, “getting rid of the emulator and transitioning your consciousness onto the new architecture proved trickier than I anticipated. We need experienced cyberneurologists for this one.”

“There’s only one solution—I’ll take you both to the clinic. They can rid you of your phobia, Lumi, and you, troublemaker, of the emulator.”

“Don’t mind me, I can fly there myself. It’ll be a good test run for the new wings.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Celestia threatened, shaking her fist. “You can't fly in this condition. And Lumi shouldn't either. I’ve already called a drone taxi—it’ll be here in a minute. Let’s go!”

Soon, the fairies came out onto the landing pad next to the body-making salon. A shiny yellow drone patiently waited for them, with its doors welcomingly open. Celesta supported Vectra, who was walking unsteadily, and kept an eye on the silent Lumi. Once the passengers were seated, the flying taxi retracted its ramp, sealed its doors, and with a soft whir of its propellers, gently ascended into the night sky of the glittering capital.

Looking through the large round windows, Celesta noticed two blue four-pointed stars illuminating above the salon’s sign as it faded into the distance—a signal that the owner was out, but trusty AI helpers stood ready to assist any fairy seeking a new look.

As the city lights twinkled below, Celesta couldn’t help but question the importance of her role. She glanced at Vectra, who had fallen silent but was still admiring her reflection from the corner of her eye. Could a computer have suggested orange wings and scarlet gloves to enhance the temptress fairy’s look? The answer is a resounding yes. The smart machine would likely have come up with something even more impressive, drawing from its vast memory of art throughout the history of fairy civilisation.

With a light heart, the cybernetic fairy smiled back at her friends. Celestia realised she wasn’t just designing and colouring bodies. The fairies who visited her salon sought more than just fancy forms; they craved support, advice, kind words, and encouragement. In essence, they were seeking a living soul. And on Elysia, as it turned out, a living soul could inhabit an organic, cybernetic, or robotic form.

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Cyberfairies 2: The Body-Making Cyber Salon