Chapter Seven
Pete
Providence, Rhode Island
2024
I t’s dark when I wake, still wrapped around Lauren. I lie there for a long time going through everything I’ve learned about myself as well as about her. She says that what I feel for her can be cured. Do I want it to be?
She feels like she’s already mine, but there are two men in the other room who may feel the same way about her. If my guesses were correct, and they’re Franklin and Elliot, I’m the best match for her. Franklin is a playboy who changes women as often as people change their socks. He didn’t stop hooking up with them when we thought it might be dangerous to. Hugh would be furious with him for that.
But that’s Franklin. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He swore loyalty to the unit, but he left his station more than once for a quick meetup. He’s too smart to brag about that to many people, but he’d tell me. I didn’t rat him out, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be okay with him anywhere near Lauren. She’s been hurt enough.
And Elliot? He’s still working too much of his own shit out. I’d lay down my life for either of them, but neither are good enough for Lauren. She needs an emotionally mature man who can fill her life with love and laughter.
Me.
Mind racing, I slide my arm out from under Lauren and make my way out of the room as quietly as possible. The hallway is dark, as is the living room. I don’t know where any of the switches are, but I see well in the dark.
Only the sound of the floorboards creaking beneath my bare feet breaks the silence of the night. I consider revisiting the room with the silverware and sleeping bags, but my stomach is rumbling for food. Kitchen first. I think it’s on the other side of the living room.
Something scurries across my toes and I jump so high I hit my head on the ceiling then land in a crouch, with one hand flat on the floor.
That’s when I see it, a set of glowing eyes on a table the height of my head. What the fuck is it? It darts one way, then the other. I straighten to full height. A second one appears and I take a step back. Four eyes glowing in the dark, watching me.
Is this what lurks in the night in the future? Are they dangerous ?
Something buzzes by my head. The square body of it is ghostly transparent, full of blinking lights. I raise my hand to take a swing at it.
“Don’t touch him,” a voice calls out. “Freeze where you are.”
“Who’s there?” I demand. I’m surrounded, but what are they? Does Inkwell know I’ve returned, and this is how they intend to take me out a second time?
“For a super soldier, you sure are easy to scare,” the voice answers.
“It’s been a long day,” I answer defensively, feeling ridiculous. “Sorry if it’s taking me a minute to get used to being in the future.”
“I understand,” a flying object says. “I have anxiety too.”
“That you gave to yourself,” the other voice adds with some snark.
I relax a little. I don’t know what these things are, but unless they’re armed with an explosive, I’m confident I could tear them to shreds with my bare hands before they’re able to do much damage to me.
An overhead light is flipped on and I look down to see a knee-high mechanical device with wheels, and a few arms, wearing a purple cowboy hat. “What the hell are you?”
“Howdy, partner! Name’s George, and yeah, I know what you’re thinkin’—what’s a flashy fella like me doin’ zoomin’ around here? Well, let’s just say I’m a robot with a flair for fun and a knack for causin’ a ruckus. What’s your name, soldier?”
“A robot? Those are a thing now?” I’d heard the future might have something like that.
The flying machine returns. “Do you feel calmer? We know humans don’t like the dark.”
“You can speak. Got it.” They didn’t appear dangerous.
“I’m John,” the flying one announces. “And don’t mind George. He doesn’t normally talk like that. He’s been watching old westerns instead of porn and now he thinks he’s a cowboy.”
“Careful, partner, no one likes a rat,” the one on the ground responds.
“And we’re having a conversation now. O-Kay.”
Cowboy robot rolls closer. “It’s only a conversation if you answer us. What’s your name?”
I glance around but whatever the glowing eyes belonged to is gone. “Where did the rest of you go?”
“The little ones are shy,” George says. “Did you come from Lauren’s bedroom?”
I’m not telling these things anything, not until I know if they’re Lauren’s or if Inkwell sent them. “What are you doing here?” I demand.
George twirls and beeps. “I won’t answer your questions if you won’t answer ours.”
The flying machine circles me then hovers near the one in a hat. “We’re visiting Lauren for a few weeks.”
George tips his hat back. “I’m here because Ashley believes her mother won’t have sex with any of you. Did she? Did I miss it?”
I turn my attention to the machine called John. “Is there a way to turn him off?”
“Sadly, no,” John answers without missing a beat.
“Turn me off? Me? I’ll turn you off.” George leaps into the air and makes a screeching sound in my face. I bat him away. He flies across the room, landing on his side with his wheels still turning.
“What the hell was that?” I growl.
George uses one of his mechanical arms to right himself. “Why didn’t you turn back into silverware?”
“Were you trying to scare me?” I mock, my eyes dart around the room, scanning for more of these machines. When George begins to move toward me, I command, “Stop where you are.”
George rolls closer with more boldness than his size should allow for. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He rises up on his wheels, which only adds an inch or two to his height. “Or I’ll—”
“What’s going on in here?” Lauren asks from a few feet away. Her hair is delightfully mussed, and that nightgown of hers sends my blood rushing downward.
George and I point at each other and, in unison, claim, “He started it.”
Lauren looks from me to George and back, then, quite to my surprise, bursts out laughing. “This is my life now. I have a spoon and a horny robot fighting in my living room.” She bends, still laughing, gasping for air. “How is this my life?”
John flies around her once, then hovers near me. “We may have broken her.”
Two little spider-like creatures come out from under the couch and approach her, looking... concerned? Their little feet make clickity-clack sounds on the floor. One turns to face me, its eyes round and glowing, while the other inspects Lauren. “So that’s what I saw in the dark.”
The one facing me huddles closer to the other one. I want to assure it I have no intention of hurting it, but since I just batted George across the room, I doubt it would believe me.
When I approach Lauren, the spider thingies scurry back under the couch. “Are you okay?” I ask.
As she straightens, her hair flips back, and her breasts dance freely and all coherent thought leaves me. The smile she flashes me is mesmerizing. “Sorry,” she says breathlessly. “I’ve just reached my quota for what I can take seriously. What happened out here?”
I feel a little foolish for battling something that looks like a child’s toy. “I wasn’t expecting to encounter anything on my way to the kitchen.”
George waves his arms around. “I thought intense emotion changed them back into utensils, so I tried to scare him, and he slugged me.”
I frown down at him. “If you want to scare someone, you might want to lose the silly hat.”
George retracts both in height and width and rolls away.
John follows him for a few feet, then flies back to us. “He loves that hat. It was the first thing Ashley gave him after she updated our code. She told him it made him look handsome.”
“He’s a machine,” I say incredulously.
Lauren purses her lips. “He’s sentient, and I owe my daughter an apology for doubting her.”
Sentient? Machines? It sounds impossible, but I went to an award dinner as a super soldier and woke up eighty years later after being imprisoned in a spoon—so maybe nothing is impossible.
A moment later, Lauren meets my gaze and I know what she’s thinking even though I can’t hear her thoughts. “I’m not apologizing to a machine.”
“He needs to learn impulse control, but he didn’t hurt you, so there was no real harm done. Can you say the same?”
I glance over to where George is sulking. Do robots sulk? I guess if they’ve achieved a level of thinking and feeling, they might. He does look hurt by what I said. I know what it’s like to be ridiculed, to be told to ignore the cruel comments, when there is really no way to. Before Inkwell, I couldn’t control my flatulence, and many people—people I knew, as well as strangers—mocked me.
“George,” I call out, but he doesn’t respond. I clear my throat and raise my voice. “I’m sorry I made fun of your hat.”
He turns slowly. “It’s not silly. Ashley thinks it looks good on me.”
I exchange another look with Lauren, sigh, head over to where George is, and sit on the floor beside him. “I was angry. You startled me, and I did something I wasn’t proud of. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”
His little shoulders slump. “No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be human.”
I shift closer. “Me neither.”
His head spins toward me. “You are human.”
“I was. I don’t know what the hell I am anymore.” I run a hand through my hair. “So, in a way, you’re better off than I am. At least you know what you are.”
“John doesn’t think people will ever accept us. I don’t understand why. They made us. Why would we scare them?”
“I’ve been asking myself all the same questions. One minute Inkwell is pinning medals to my chest and calling me a hero... the next minute they’re trying to eradicate me.”
John hovers above George. “We do have much in common with you.”
Lauren joins us. She looks over at the couch the spiders disappeared beneath, then lays a hand on my thigh. I know this may seem like a crazy thing to ask for...
Crazy seems to be the norm now.
She smiles. Ashley asked me to try to help the two little robots. They regret becoming sentient. They want to go back to when they couldn’t feel anything because they’d rather feel nothing than be afraid. I want to help them.
I lay a hand over hers. What do you want me to say?
Aloud, I ask, “Pete, have you ever been afraid?”
Oh, I see what you’re doing. “Absolutely. When I first joined Inkwell and realized my only way out was death... I was terrified. Each injection thinned our unit. No one knew if they’d survive the next round.”
“But you did.”
“Yes, only to be sent on missions where more of us died. I was less afraid then, though...”
“Why?” John asks.
The two little spider robots poke their heads out from under the couch.
“I had a purpose and had become close to several men in my unit. Those two things put fear in the backseat.”
George tilts his square head to one side. “I don’t have a purpose.”
“I don’t either,” says John.
The spider robots skitter closer until they’re beside Lauren’s leg. She looks down at them. “When I was a child, I knew I wanted to go into medicine. I was born with a purpose; at least, I’ve always felt so. When everything else fell apart, that’s what gave me strength.”
“How does one find their purpose?” George asks.
It’s an unsettlingly deep question. I clear my throat. “I think it finds you. ”
Lauren’s smile is gentle. “Sometimes they get dropped off at your apartment.” She meets my gaze. “Or get handed to you by your daughter’s friend.”
Careful , I warn. Keep talking like that, and I might fall for you even if you can break our bond.
Whatever she’s about to respond with is interrupted by the spiders jumping on her leg. She gasps in surprise and grips my thigh hard. I think we won them over , she says without speaking. With a tentative laugh, she touches one gently as if it were a small kitten. It stills beneath her touch but stays.
I understand. The way I feel about Lauren, myself, suddenly being dumped into the future—it’s all too much to wrap my head around.
But I don’t want to leave either.