Chapter 2
Chapter two
Atlas
Atlas stood at an even six feet tall, shorter than most other android models. Right now his height didn’t matter, as he was crouched low on the ground. In front of him was a piece of ancient technology: an ultrasound machine. He snapped the wiring case open, touching the thick layer of dust inside.
When he was constructed, height was not a factor in his design. Instead, he was built with more medical capabilities and sensors than any of the androids currently on board. Back before Earth was destroyed, he’d worked in hospitals, in surgery. A purpose long since abandoned even as he persisted.
He brushed aside the dust inside the ultrasound, then delicately pulled on the wiring.
Everything on him was designed for surgery, not mechanics, but he had enough computing power to understand the schematics.
Soon, cables were stretched out on either side of the machine, the wiring on them stripped.
Even more than the dust, there was corrosion on almost every piece.
The ultrasound hadn’t been used for roughly fifty years or more. And it showed.
Atlas rolled up the sleeves of his blue sweater, exposing his forearms. The extra layer helped him retain heat better, but got in the way of delicate work like this wiring.
He stripped one of the wires and slowly connected the broken lines together. Why he was exerting himself so hard was a question that didn’t fully compute. There were three new humans on board, one of which was pregnant.
And he pretended he didn’t really care.
He had always been drawn to humans, despite their imperfections—whether by his model’s design or his own nature, he could never quite tell. That susceptibility was why he’d kept his distance for so long.
The new humans were unwanted by most of the androids on Mars. A fly in the ointment. A burden that most felt pressed to accept. But a part of him could not ignore his programming, which wanted him to care for these three new humans they’d brought on board.
Atlas spoke down to the wiring. “More humans and more complications.”
He currently had little to do with the small human colony that lived with the androids on Mars. The colony, the humans they had cultivated over the years, was aging out, nearly gone.
The communal mind, the overarching link the androids shared, was split. Only half of the androids were happy about this new arrangement, but what could they do? Almost every android had originally brought loved ones with them to Mars. How could they deny the same opportunity to Simon?
Even Atlas had brought someone, roughly one hundred years ago. Clara. Although, those memories weren’t always favorable.
His hand slipped on the wiring. Never mind. After all, they were only a week away from landing at Mars. It didn’t matter to him what happened once the three humans were delivered. His obligation would end then. Sterling, his model counterpart, would take over their care.
The ultrasound was now completely gutted. He examined the broken pieces carefully. The repair shouldn’t take more than a few hours.
He turned the machine to examine the backside.
Even though the ultrasound belonged here in the medical quarters, it looked out of place.
The med room was filled with plants; there was more greenery there than any other area on the ship.
They spilled over the monitors in some places, and were held back in others with clips.
He’d had to push a few to the side for this machine to even fit.
Still, the plants were in the way. He had to wheel a delicately pruned Barbados cherry tree farther away, carefully, to reach the backside of the ultrasound machine and unhinge the panel.
The wires appear degraded. Atlas uplinked over the androids’ shared wireless connection. “Zero?”
“Yes?”
He projected a live view of the open hardware back to Zero. “Am I correct that this needs new wiring? The troubleshooter is currently reading low voltage.”
“Hm. It’s actually not in that bad of shape. But I’ll bring you some.”
“Thank you.”
Atlas disconnected before more androids could link with him. The communal mind pinged at him every time he opened a connection lately. Since he was the one medically treating the new humans, he was currently in demand for their data. He pushed off the ultrasound in disgust.
He took a break from trying to fix the machine, instead reaching for and adjusting one of his plants.
Greenery surrounded him. All of the plants were cuttings that he had personally grown and nurtured for years now.
They stood in pots in every spare corner of both the med room and the private charging quarters he had on board, their green hues sharply contrasting with the otherwise sterile walls.
Plants made sense, unlike humanity. They also did their best to give back. Oxygen, fruit, even medicines.
Also unlike humanity.
In his office were pothos and seedlings started under grow lights, but his favorite was his cherry tree. That tree had origins back to when he first came to Mars, continually kept alive through grafting and regrowth.
He dipped his head low to examine a recent graft he’d completed on one of his apple rootstocks. This was where his medical knowledge shined. The apple tree branch received another layer of tape over the splice, right over a bumpy callus where the cuts joined. “Everything is healing well so far.”
He ran his finger over the joint. Outwardly, his movements were calm, but underneath the familiar task his processors were hot.
Uncommonly hot. Endlessly calculating. Atlas didn’t want to think about humans any more than he had to, so why did his mind return to them so frequently?
Was it fixing this ultrasound machine? After Clara, the human he’d served, passed away, he’d purged most of his medical manuals.
Only recently had he redownloaded all of them from backup drives to assess and treat the new human arrivals.
Was reviving the old manuals why his training protocols were returning to him so strongly?
He rolled the sleeves of his blue sweater up, exposing more skin to cool himself down. Damn them. Then he wet his hands in the same water he was using to refill the hydroponic reservoirs, checking the moisture content of the grow pods as he went.
“Humans are much more complicated than you.” Atlas spoke softly to the plant cuttings.
“You just need sunlight, water, and nutrients. They need . . .” He looked across the room to the ultrasound machine that was against the wall.
“Well, I’m not quite sure what these humans need.
They’re different from the ones in the colony. ”
Maybe that was the real issue? That something about them was not like the others?
Everything in him softened as he adjusted the pH levels of the plants individually.
Under the fluorescent lights, he had different arrays set up, providing the full spectrum lighting that the plants needed to thrive.
They also all had their own individual feeding schedules.
The ultrasound was abandoned as he lost himself in the cuttings, working all the way to the far end of the med room.
By the time he finished, he returned to the ultrasound to see Zero halfway in the machine. “Oh. I was going to fix the wiring.”
Zero’s muscular frame was hidden by cables.
Whereas Atlas seemed to need more layers to optimally regulate his temperature, Zero needed less.
His model, the model-M specializing in mechanics and manufacturing, ran hot.
Zero wore a mesh shirt, and it was see-through enough for every silicone part to peek through as he held up the wires.
“It’s fine; it has been a long time since I worked on tech like this.
I’ve missed it. I take it you’re fixing this ultrasound for the pregnant human, Anna? ”
“Yes. Sterling has been asking for more data.” Atlas adjusted one of his lamps, usually used for his plants, to a better angle so Zero could see.
“Everyone wants more data,” Zero drawled. “The researchers. Stella and the rest of her model-Bs. Even all my brothers.”
“. . . Even you?”
“I’m part of everyone.” Zero’s voice was hollow. “But at least I feel guilty about it. Aren’t we doing a bait and switch, testing them like this when the humans just needed a safe haven?”
“None of that is my concern,” Atlas said. “A doctor is needed, and I have the necessary training. Between this and fixing the child’s limp, I have done my job.”
Zero grinned, then pointed at a picture on the wall that Tilly drew for him before the surgery. A child’s drawing with a cat and a human stick figure standing together. “I see you kept that, though.”
Atlas softened, looking at the picture. “You don’t reject gifts from a child.” And then softer, he added, “I was happy her foot could be healed.”
“Yes. I really hate that she never received any care for it before.”
“Well, we aren’t like Earth.”
“That’s true.” Zero snapped the cover back on the machine. “Let’s see if this starts now. I replaced all the wiring.”
They both stood back as an ancient startup screen displayed code. A red light lit up at the top, quickly fading to a green standby status.
Atlas grabbed the ultrasound wand and held it to his own hand. Circuits and wiring illuminated the gray screen. He gave a quick grin. “It works. You’ve still got it, Zero.”
Zero wiped his brow. Not to remove sweat—androids couldn’t sweat—but the layer of grease from working underneath the machine. His blond hair got pushed up out of his eyes. “Not complicated at all. Well. You want to grab the human and try it out?”
Atlas focused on the grayscale monitor as he calibrated the settings. “In a few moments. I want to learn how to operate it first.”
“Alright.” Zero coiled the wires he’d replaced with expert precision. “I’m sure there are some additional shared files in the communal mind.”
Atlas shrugged. In his files, there were schematics of similar machines, but they were from nearly 150 years ago, and for machines from hospitals back on a pre-war-torn Earth.
Every sort of medical manual took up space in his backup drive—from diabetic management to renal failure.
He assessed his inner files. Including .
. . pregnancy and fetal monitoring. It took a moment for him to access his files that had the data stored.
“I’m sure the communal mind holds more, but this is adequate.
The data is still all stored from when I was put to work in those Earth hospitals.
I reuploaded it all from my personal files a few days ago. ”
Zero rubbed his chin. “Anything to avoid the communal connection, huh?”
Atlas adjusted the wand, lighting up the inside of his other hand. “I’m tired of hearing the humans being discussed. They are dissecting everything Anna and the others are doing when all the humans are doing is baking and reading. And talking. Nothing that interesting, really.”
“They are stirring up trouble. Stella and the others.” Zero tapped on the machine. “You should listen to the discussions. Stella has been leaning heavily on the researchers to work on future plans for these humans.”
Future plans? Why am I not surprised? Atlas shook his head. “You know how Stella is. Having these humans on board is the first time in years she’s had something new to discuss. I’m sending all the medical results directly to Sterling. He has kept me informed enough about their ideas.”
“Well, she is trying her hardest. Won’t shut up about that neurochip.”
Atlas’ body stiffened. “Why do you think I have her on mute?”
"Smart man." Zero laughed. “Okay, but you must have an opinion?”
The question made him pause. “No. Not really.”
The ultrasound machine worked perfectly. On the screen, Atlas had moved on to examining his arm. It’s all functional.
“I think you should speak to everyone, Atlas." Zero began packing his tools. "We could use a more balanced perspective.”
Balanced. The image of Clara flashed across his mind again. Could he even be balanced? Atlas fiddled with the ultrasound settings. “I know as much as you do, Zero. I haven’t made up my mind yet on these new humans either. I would rather ignore them.”
“But . . . you’re directly caring for them.”
“I know. Unfortunately.” He pointed the wand toward him. “How about you and all your brothers? I know your model tends to all think alike.”
Zero pointed a screwdriver back at him, then turned it around and returned it to his tool belt. “We don’t all think alike.”
“Really?” That made Atlas chuckle. Everyone knew the model-Ms moved as a unit. “You even laugh similarly.”
“Ouch. We can’t help that all our vocal boxes are the same.” Zero crossed his arms. “But, see? I’m the only one of us here. Three and Fourteen aren’t here helping you like I am. I even helped with Tilly’s surgery.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” Atlas put down the wand. I said the wrong thing again. He cleared his throat. “I do appreciate your help.” He waved to his plants, his gaze lingering on his cherry tree. “That was crass of me. I understand having more interests than what you were intended for.”
“Don’t over apologize.” Zero sighed. “It’s usually true.”
“Not always. What do you believe about these humans then, Zero?”
There was not an immediate answer, only a calculating gleam that passed through Zero’s gaze as he focused.
“I don’t know either. But I want no part of whatever plans Stella and her group are pushing with the neurochip.
” He patted the side of the ultrasound. “And I think you’re not being honest. You are fixing this machine. You obviously want to help.”
Atlas’s jaw tightened. He clicked off the machine and put the wand back in the holder, powering it down. “Yes. I’m a doctor, after all. I want to make sure they’re healthy.”