Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Atlas
Atlas’s mouth hung slightly open. “This warehouse was meant for livestock quarantine . . .”
Retorts and reasons why she shouldn’t stay here instead of the facility were on his tongue. But they withered away. Not because of logic, but because he saw Anna sitting tall with her hands on her hips. She really wants this? His voice was strained. “But Anna . . .”
“Here, I’ll show you.” She waved her hands. “If we move some of these boxes to the side, there’s enough space for me to have a bed.”
His protests started again as she started to move the boxes. “You can’t . . .”
He regretted the words a moment later as he saw her stiffen.
“I can’t?” She stood up, a sheen of sweat on her cheeks. “Why not? Are there any rules that humans can’t live outside the facility?”
He blinked once, very slowly. “Not that I know of . . .”
“Does anyone own this?”
“There’s no real ownership here . . .”
Anna’s weight shifted as she moved her feet. “Will any of the androids be mad if I stay here?”
Atlas’s eyebrows knit together. More concerned than mad.
But Anna seemed to take his silence the wrong way, because she stumbled forward to take his hand with a pleading expression. “I want to do this, Atlas. Nora can live in that barn. But this area is perfect for me. At least to get adjusted.”
He stood, frozen. His focus zoomed in on her fingers holding him.
“Atlas.” She shook his hand, limp within hers. “Please?”
He slunk into his charging stasis. In front of him, Anna faded out as his eyes stopped providing data. Instead, his mind supplied a different moment, one that was superimposed, of Clara asking to go to Mars with him, grabbing his hand much the same way Anna was now.
Only it was different. Clara’s voice was shrill and angry.
Her harsh tones replayed, retrieved from a data access point he had dormant.
Take me. You owe me. I was the one that took you out of that hospital.
They dismantled everyone in there, but not you.
I deserve this. There was fire in Clara’s eyes as she shook his hand. I was kind to you. I’m coming with you.
An acid taste hit his tongue, as if there could be bile in his stomach instead of artificial enzymes.
In the present, as if he had instincts, Atlas roughly pulled his hand out of Anna’s in front of him. Then stood, rigid, his processors overheating. He took a deep breath and forced the data from Clara back into his memory bank and outside his working parameters. That is the past. Long buried.
The room spun as the memory faded. And then he could clearly see Anna in front of him again, tears in her eyes. It’s Anna. Not Clara. But his mind still reeled from the memories.
“Atlas? You okay?” Anna took a step forward. “Can I please stay here? There’s enough space if I move these boxes. I’m not gonna bother anyone, I promise.”
Behind her, boxes were stacked high. She pushed one to the floor, then shoved with both her hands, scooting it toward the doorway.
That’s too heavy for her. Atlas cleared his throat. “. . . Anna.”
“I won’t bother anyone out here.” More tears had formed and were starting to fall on the box top. Her voice was thick. “I don’t want to go back to being watched all the time.”
He took a step forward. “You’re crying.”
“Yeah.” She hastily wiped her face and the drop that had fallen on the box top. “Sorry.”
Atlas tracked the tear tracks still on her cheeks.
The tears reminded him so strongly of Clara that he turned away.
Clara cried over silly things. She did it to manipulate me.
He very rarely got angry, but a familiar bite began to form.
A particular heat. Why? Why were these humans turning down their care?
Yes it is invasive, but I have seen the scans.
I know how she lived before. Is there something wrong with her mind?
Anna is safe, finally. And Zero, with his brothers, and all the ones that played music for her.
Maybe she is not used to ever having help?
They were trying. Yes, there’s Stella, but even her group is trying to figure it out—not to make Anna suffer, but to make things better overall.
And what was Anna’s contribution? She’d allowed the medical tests, but now wanted to leave? Was she using them as well? Was this a different form of manipulation?
He watched her, gigantic stomach in front, pushing a box with her hair disheveled around her head. Whatever it was, it didn’t make sense. No movies ever involved a pregnant woman choosing to struggle like this.
“How you lived before was not adequate,” Atlas bit out. “You didn’t even have any medical care for your baby before you met me. You’re not thinking logically.”
“Well, I’m not an android.” She put her hands on her hips. “Besides, I didn’t ask for any of this!”
Atlas clenched his jaw. “You are eight months pregnant, Anna. I saw you over the monitors, struggling. You’re doing it now. Look at you, moving these boxes. You’re being reckless with your health.”
Atlas regretted his words immediately. Too sharp.
Hurt ran across her face. “The monitors. That drone.” Her hands slightly shook, but her voice was firm.
“Right. Everyone is having fun watching the pregnant human sweat. Just like those television programs. Well, fine.” Then louder, she added, “Fine. If you’re not going to ask, then I will.
I don’t want to live there.” She held a hand out, pointing at the storage room’s ceiling.
“They can ship me back to Earth then if they don’t like me.
I’ll figure it out. Put me down in a different town. ”
Atlas sharply inhaled. Anna. The mere thought of her, hungry, back in that wasteland . . . “You’re not going back to Earth.”
Her frame was shaking. “Why not? At least there I know I can work hard and figure things out for myself.”
“It’s dangerous.”
Anna took a small step forward. “Well, here is too safe. I’m not . . .” Her lip curled. “A pet. I don’t want to be a burden here. I can maybe work in one of the factories like you do. Give me a shift or something. I don’t want to sit here doing nothing. I’m not like the humans you raised here.”
She would work? A pet? Atlas frowned. His body boiled as his processors calculated, growing hot. He pushed his sweater sleeves up.
“I know they listen to you. Please?” Her voice cracked. “I’m not going to be put in a box like those other humans. I don’t want to live like that. That’s not living, Atlas.”
“You were there for barely two days.”
She reached for his hand again with her calloused one. “Please?”
Atlas scanned her face. “But Anna . . .”
“Do you think they will let me stay here?” Her eyes widened. “They’re not gonna drag me back, are they? I don’t want to live there. In a cage.”
“It’s not a cage.” His voice was heated. Cautious. “They want to take care of you.”
“No,” She whispered, “they want to live for me.”
The words struck him. Thoughts of the neurochip surfaced. Is that really what is happening? All the discussions about what was best, everyone examining her actions from every angle came to him. She must sense it too. He whispered, more to himself, “They want to live for you?”
She ignored his echo and pushed the box toward him until it hit his legs.
“Let me show you how this can be. I’ll move these boxes, make some space.
” Quickly she walked to the window, pointing to the cows.
“Maybe I can work out a deal. I can take care of the animals as a way of helping out in return for living here?”
Atlas didn’t respond. Endlessly, endlessly, his processors spun. Calculating. She would really work? Go back to Earth?
Silence stretched. Anna's face closed off. “Nevermind. Can you step aside?” She bent back over to push the boxes. “You’re in the way.”
I’m in the way. The determined look in her eyes told him she meant it in more ways than just in the way of a box.
She was not ordering him to contribute or fix anything.
Step aside. He didn’t move. Instead he looked down at her, pulling himself all the way up to his six-foot height.
“You’d really go back to Earth? It is beautiful here though, right? You just told me so a few days ago.”
She crouched down by the box. “If I’m gonna be treated like that . . . like the cows in the pasture, monitored like that, then yes. Take me back. I’ll find a better spot out in the desert like Nora did, or in a different town.”
Stella’s words clouded his mind. We need to watch them closely. He roughly pushed up the sleeves of his sweater even higher.
“Can you move please?” She fidgeted in front of him.
Please. He stepped to the side.
“Thanks.” She resumed her pushing, bending comically over her belly and grunting, using her legs to straighten a box along the wall.
Atlas’s shoulders stiffened. This female human wants to live in a warehouse. Instead of the perfect facilities that were prepared for human occupation. He crossed his arms, sensors misfiring at the ridiculous sight of a heavily pregnant Anna pushing boxes.
She stretched herself up, wiping her brow. Her stomach protruded from her thin frame unnaturally. She pointed to the space underneath the window that was now clear. “See?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I see something, alright.”
“Well. Yeah.” She forced a smile, turning back to the boxes. “I can make this work.”
His hands clenched at his sides, watching her struggle as she continued pushing the boxes. He cleared his throat. “Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Help me understand. Our facilities are perfect for humans.”
“I already told you.” Anna didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re so smart, Atlas, but we’re going in circles. Can’t you see that I don’t fit in there?”
“You should give it more time.”
“That was enough time.” She put her hand on her hips, taking a deep breath. “I’ve had enough of people deciding things for me.”
A nerve impulse jumped in his cheek at watching her breathe heavily from pushing the box. “You’re not like any human I’ve ever met before.”