Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Atlas
Atlas sighed entering his room. Not even thirty minutes back and everything was on edge. It was funny how his office remained unchanged, but this trip to Earth had changed everything.
Sterling had his office directly in the human area, but Atlas chose to live on the opposite side of the facility.
His office was attached to his personal quarters, sparse and utilitarian.
The office was designed to care for medical patients up front back in times when there were more humans than Sterling could handle, with his personal quarters for him in the back.
The medical equipment had long ago been pushed to the side.
Atlas began to clean the surfaces of the Martian dust. He had been away from his quarters for four months due to this rotation to Earth. The trip was cut short, actually. Once the decision was made to bring Anna and the others back, they’d shifted the timeline to return to Mars sooner.
Despite being unable to feel fatigue, his processors were weary. He paused, mid swipe. It was a long day.
Atlas’s office looked barren without his usual plants when he finally lifted his head. The window where his cherry tree usually stood was empty. Now that he was here and not going to go on rotation for a while, he would need to collect them from the ship.
He leaned over one plant that remained, touching the leaves gently. The plant still looked healthy enough. He checked its moisture levels. Not bad actually. But there was a lot of growth he would need to shape. “How did you fare with me gone? No drama from you?”
There was a marked lower level of interest in this task than was normal. Coming back and seeing the growth over his absence usually interested him more. The plant leaves slipped out of his fingers. Dammit. He clenched his jaw. I can’t focus.
Atlas ran a hand down the side of his face and sat back in the chair. “What is wrong with me?”
The plant, of course, didn’t answer.
But it didn’t need to. He was frustrated.
That was part of it. Frustrated at both the reception they were getting and that he was unable to do anything about it.
After being insulted like they were earlier, Clara would have yelled back.
Thrown things even. Not just stand there, looking dejected, saying she wasn’t dangerous.
He had one hundred years to think about Clara’s anger.
He had never expected a human to be quiet.
No. He began cleaning again. The feeling related to how conflicted he felt.
He finished cleaning his main desk and sat down at his desk, resting his head in his hands.
Less than ten minutes in their new quarters, and already the other humans were making drama.
He really didn’t miss that aspect of humanity. How did Sterling handle it?
Immediately, as if his processors were split, the image of Anna with the rose played.
The laugh and larger-than-life smile. Atlas moistened his lips.
She really is not like them. He’d meant that earlier, with everything in him.
Anna wasn’t like any other humans he had known before.
In fact, maybe things would be better if he started to categorize her differently.
The same species, but not. Maybe more like the old, old videos he watched?
“It’s Anna, isn’t it?” He rubbed his chin slowly. Even away from her, his neural mind kept returning to all the interactions he had with her on the few weeks’ voyage. It really was by chance she was here right now. He might have not met her at all.
He remembered the first time he saw her. Back on Earth, her husband Paul attacked Simon. And in the aftermath, Anna had been a pale figure with bloodied hands, running out of the bakery she owned. He registered her as a sidekick of Nora’s at first, so focused on rescuing Simon.
But within moments of watching a part of him knew, even then, that she was different. He leaned back in his chair, legs loose and arms dangling. She was so brave, still helping, even though her world was ending.
And now she was here, crowding his mind that had only been filled with greenery for so long. Involuntarily, the memory of her smile in the sunlight played. A flush ran through him. He frowned at the plant. “What a complication.”
It really was. And yet. . .
He leaned closer, delicately lifting the greenery. “Nevermind all of that. You had some seedlings. You’ll need to be replanted.” The experiments he set up before the trip still needed tending to, and all the results of his careful grafting and transplanting needed measuring.
Soon he focused, letting his hands run automatically. He itched to do more, but there would be time tonight to put things to right. Time when Anna slept. Especially as he kept making small mistakes from distraction.
Zero sent him a private message. Atlas shrugged before accepting. “I’m almost done unloading the ship. I have the human’s cat. Should I wait until Simon’s hardware upgrades are done to bring him?”
“He’s probably scared. I can come down to get him.”
“No need, I’ll bring him up.”
Zero walked in a few minutes later with the orange and white cat, Tatertot, in a carrier by his side.
In his hand was also a fistful of drawings that Tilly had made for Atlas from his desk in the medical quarters.
“Why are you still ignoring the general feeds? We are waiting for you to join our talks. Others are as well. But here you are instead, ignoring everyone.”
Atlas’s jaw clenched. “You knew where to find me, though.”
“Of course.” Zero leaned against the table, then slid closer. “You are rather predictable.”
“. . . I don’t feel like it lately.”
The cat meowed, and Zero stuck his hand in the carrier. “Aw kitty. It’s okay.”
“Here.” Atlas reached out. “Let me see him?”
Zero handed him over. “You were walking on that nature path for a while with them. Fess up, you like them now too.”
Atlas sighed. “Yes, I do.”
“Ha! I knew it! They are sweet.” Zero riffled through Tilly’s drawings on his desk. “I couldn’t leave these behind.”
He touched the crayon picture, leaning them against the wall. “They are very sweet.”
“So, now that you agree, why aren’t you sharing?”
Atlas took a deep breath. “I need time to form my own opinions. Drones were already following the whole way overhead.”
“Ah.”
“And.” He clenched his jaw. “Those two humans, Ria and Pearl . . . they were awful. Not only that, they discussed the neurochip right in front of them like it was already decided.”
“Yeah. Everyone saw that as well.”
Atlas stiffened. “Is there any privacy for them at all?”
“No cameras in the bathrooms or bedrooms.” Zero said.
“I’m usually fine with surveillance, but this is too much. They’re not used to being watched that closely.”
“You know what to do then!” Zero held up his hand. “Add your opinion, or the majority will make plans without you! Stella is pushing too far ahead, as she has the most direct experience with them.”
“Is she still focusing on the baby?”
“Yes. Keeps saying that the baby is half of Paul. So, more dangerous. Because everyone can see that Anna can’t do anything.”
Atlas pushed his plant away. “That’s not how human genetics work.”
“You know fear is a powerful motivator. She is stirring the pot too much. And the consensus is starting to listen to her the more she flashes her war memories around.”
“She’s insufferable.”
“Finally.” Zero clapped his hands. “Someone else says it!”
Atlas pushed on the pictures, standing them up on his desk. Then Anna’s smile from the lake coated his mind. “Let me finish organizing here for a minute, then I’ll connect; they need a different perspective.”
“Yes they do.” Zero pushed off the desk. “You know they’ll listen to you and Sterling more than me.”
“I doubt they will, but I’ll try.” He opened his personal computer, booting it up. “I’ll bring Anna and the others for dinner then after.”
“Alright.” Zero walked to the door. “Let me go check on Simon. The updates should be almost done. He was angry not knowing what was happening.”
“I’m sure he was.”
“Hopping mad.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“Absolutely. But it should be fixed now.” Zero tapped on the door. “See you soon.”
Atlas nodded as Zero left, back to only his one plant and experiments in his room.
. . . And one cat.
The cat looked up balefully from the carrier. He leaned over, examining him. “You are also from Earth’s wilds. But there’s no discussion about what to do with you.”
Tatertot blinked up at him, slowly.
Atlas blinked back. “I know. They aren’t bad. They took good care of you.”
One of Tilly’s pictures had a cat, even. Atlas pinned the one she drew, thanking him for the ultrasound, on his wall. The drawing had a stick figure of Anna, with an impossibly large belly. Gifts given freely should be treasured, especially from a child.
He reached down to touch Tatertot’s fur, then unzipped the carrier. “I think a part of me is afraid.”
The cat, like the plants, didn’t respond. He clarified. “Not how Stella is afraid, but afraid to care again. Because detachment is easier.”
He stroked the soft fur. “Sometimes, I don’t want to be part of the collective at all. The way they make decisions. . .” Tatertot nudged into his hand. He continued petting. “I’m worried they’ll make the wrong decisions. And I’m a part of that then, even if I protest.”
He was only one android, and they ruled by majority of opinion.
He was not designed for persuasion the way Stella was.
Instead, he just had his own hands and conscience.
And if they chose wrong? For the human that baked cumin cookies and wanted to swim?
And left him a thank you note with brownies?
Atlas paused, feeling the cat purr under his hand.
What will I do if they decide to push ahead with something immoral?
His fingers stilled in Tatertot’s soft fur. Well . . . what can I do?
Even in his own mind, he was disgusted. He knew he was being a coward by avoiding them, by thinking if he didn’t get involved, then he wouldn’t have to care either way.
But he did care.
Dammit all, he did.
Atlas removed his hand from Tatertot’s carrier and zipped everything back up.
“Time to stop avoiding this. I at least have to try. I can give them more data than Stella. And after that reception earlier . . .” He mumbled to himself, “I am already involved.” He refreshed his sensory cortex, cooling down his processors so he was no longer running hot.
Then he connected directly to the communal mind, pushing up his sweater sleeves.
Immediately he recoiled, almost pushing away from the strong emotions on the line. It felt like lightning, or the rush of charging too fast. The rush of attention when they felt him active forced him to take a step back.
The communal voices hissed over his neural mind, landing with a heaviness that he wanted to ignore.
“They seem so foreign.”
“Their reactions.”
“Why did they spend so much time in the sun doing nothing?”
“They never saw television programs before?”
“That pregnant one wants to work? Is she joking? What could she even help with?”
And then when they felt him, a tsunami. “Atlas. Atlas. Atlas. What does your data say about these new humans?”
Atlas rubbed his head, collecting his thoughts. “These humans are different from the others. I do not view them as a threat.”
In unison, several asked, “Why?”
Videos. Direct evidence. That was what he could offer.
He played a clip for them from the ship med bay, where cameras did not extend, and where the majority of their interactions had happened.
The ultrasound gathering, where Paul’s name was mentioned and how none of them wanted the baby to be like him.
He showed them Anna making him brownies and, from his perspective, not any of the cameras circling overhead, the sincerity in the note she’d left saying thank you.
The thank you note, he showed over and over. Different angles. “Do you see? She is different. I view them as not one of the humans of the past, but more as their own species. We know from raising humans here that they can be trained to be harmless. No matter who the parents are.”
He provided multiple angles now of all three of them saying thank you while on the ship. Then one of Anna compulsively cleaning the kitchen, with a rag around her bloody hand.
All of the androids had seen those moments, but not woven together to make a meaningful pattern, spliced in a tight collage like Atlas presented.
He showed how eager Anna was to help, and even included her offhand comment about taking a shift at the factory.
The dancing in the lake earlier, Nora and Simon spinning, smiling.
The only thing he didn’t share was Anna’s smiles to him. Especially the moment in the lake on Mars, her pressing the rose into his chest. That memory stayed private.
There was a moment of silence after he was done.
They were quiet, contemplative. From the rest of Stella’s model, to the researchers and the field workers, all of them processed the data and quieted the connection.
In the end, even Stella’s memories paused.
The consensus chose to play and focus on Atlas’s instead for a moment.
Atlas had one more thing to say. “Besides that, if we seek to control them so much—will we not become like them? Will we not be the same evil? Won’t we be no better than the humans of the past?”
“What?” There was a scattering of noise that rumbled through the consensus. Was he actually making an impact? For one glorious minute, his hopes rose.
But then Stella’s fear machine, her memories, slowly ramped up in the background.
And even over thought waves, her internal voice still managed to drip with acid.
“These humans might be safe. But what do we do with the others? The others, Atlas? The others? The violent ones on Earth? Do we keep ignoring them? Her baby is a part of them.”
Again with the baby. Atlas’s hands balled into fists. “I do not know. But I will tell you while you are watching. These three humans are innocent. They have never harmed anything. The baby in Anna’s belly is innocent despite who the father was. Do with that what you will.”
And then he disconnected again. His lip curled. I tried.
Already he knew that he would need to try again. And the reason?
He replayed Anna’s reaction to first seeing Mars. The slow smile that filled her face. Pure joy. A fluttering filled his chest.
Atlas stepped away from the plants. Suddenly, he wanted to see her again. Experience all of their first moments here on this new planet. Their first flush of everything.
He especially wanted to see more smiles from Anna.