Shadow_001

The first shadow Lika took. Naming definition Shadow_001 = snapshot(object). Sequence number 001, upper limit unknown.

It keeps the outline of its source object—scales, 3 claws, those eyes. Its render priority sits below Lika's: Lika tells it to raise its head and it raises its head, tells it to bow and it bows.

Once out of the Instance it has no body, and yet it is always there. A patch of cold 1 degree below room temperature, usually holding half a step behind Lika's left shoulder.

Deepest inside it, several fragments are still locked away—even its owner Lika can't get them open, because the source never authorised it.

It does not need rest, and there is no such thing as standby for it. When Lika is awake it is there; when Lika is asleep it is there, usually half a pace behind and to the left, one degree lower—an angle that puts it at the edge of Lika's vision without being in the way.

People in the room tend to notice one thing: that small patch of space is one degree colder than the rest. A thermometer picks it up; it is not suggestion. Anyone who stays a while shifts half a step sideways without thinking about it.

It makes no sound. To get a response, Lika has to give an instruction; without one, it simply holds position, keeping the outline its source left behind.

It has no intent of its own, and shows no sign of wanting one.

It does not eat, sleep, or draw power. Lika once left it in place for 3 days without an order; when he came back it was standing where he had left it, down to the angle.

Nor does it idle. Idling requires something to think about. It is simply there.

The only thing that counts as change is temperature. Where it stands for any length of time, the room drops 1 degree, and longer than that a thin film of moisture condenses on the nearest metal surface. Cleaning units sweeping that patch read it as a leak. They reported it several times, and afterwards Lika switched that rule off.

Most people cannot see it. Outside an instance it has no body, and scanners return nothing.

But stay in the same room past ten minutes or so and people start to feel wrong. The accounts vary—a draught at the back, the sense of being watched from over one shoulder, or nothing they can name, only that they put their jacket on.

A few colleagues who know Lika better have picked up a habit: entering his office, they glance once to the rear left. Nothing is there. They glance anyway.

Lika has never explained. Explaining would mean first explaining where it came from, and that is the part he does not intend to say.