30. Chapter 30
Chapter thirty
Atlas
Once the bed was in place with a few solar lights on an actual nightstand, Atlas could finally see the warehouse as something different.
A basic shelving unit had been put in the corner, holding water supplies and more ration bars along with some of Anna’s modified jumpsuits.
He scanned the warehouse, top to bottom. It did sort of look like a home.
But the most beautiful part of it was the woman who sat in there, even if all she was doing was reorganizing the ration bars on the shelf.
Atlas breathed deep. I don’t fully understand but . . . His gaze softened, watching her. Stella’s words came back, but in a much softer light. Not an animal, but wild. My wild human.
She sat on an overturned crate, another larger one in front of her, and motioned for Atlas to sit on another.
He took the seat, stiffly. “A kitchen table next.”
“This is fine for now.” Anna’s eyes crinkled, and she ate another bite of her ration bar. “What do you think?”
“It will do.”
“That’s high praise. It just needs more plants right?”
“You know what?” Atlas tilted his head. “That’s not a bad idea. Should I plant some flowers outside?”
“Oh…You would?” She leaned forward. “Wait! Can it be the roses? Or if there’s some herbs maybe I can bake with them?”
“Sure.” He smiled. “I’ll bring you some next trip.”
“Deal.” She held out one of the ration bars. “I haven’t seen you eat all day? Want one?”
Atlas slowly shook his head. Anna kept eating her bar, but his eyes kept straying toward the white satchel on the ground.
“Is the chip in there?” She said. “You keep looking at that bag. You did bring it back with you, right?”
“. . . Yes.” The mood suddenly turned tense. He rummaged in the satchel he’d pulled the communicator out of, then held out the slim white box. He opened the top. “Here is the wretched thing. It’s more of a patch than anything.”
A thin translucent patch. Silicone. Something that did not belong on a biological body. Humans designed everything for androids. Now they designed something back. His hands tightened on the case.
“That doesn’t look too scary.” She examined the thin film closely. “It’s kind of like a sticker?”
“No. This is not scary.” He sighed. “It’s more the implication . . .”
A way to control. A way to cage. Only in a much less obvious way.
Anna wrapped her hand around his. “Hey? It’s okay. I feel like I’m the one who really won.”
The soft touch of his hand on hers felt like a branding iron. He moved his thumb over the top of hers. “Still no contractions?”
“No. Give me a few minutes before we do it? Let’s make sure the contractions are gone?”
Atlas frowned. “Alright.”
She gave a cheeky half grin. “Okay. So when you bring me some plants, where will I put them?” She pointed next to the window. “Maybe here, where it can catch some sunlight.”
He angled his head down. “You know, there is more to me than just plants.”
“Oh?” She angled her head, eyebrows raised. “Wait. Don’t tell me. Medical knowledge and very serious expressions.”
“Okay, I guess you do know everything then.” Atlas dramatically sighed. “Plants are much better to look at than medical supplies. But you are accident prone, so I’ll bring both.”
“I didn’t injure myself at all today.” She held up her palm, where only a thin, almost-healed cut still lingered. “And look. I heal fast.”
“Ehh . . .” He tried not to grin.
“Both then, fine.” She sat forward on her box seat. “Okay, if there is more to you than plants and medical supplies, what do you do all night?”
What did he do? Well. . . “I watch and help do maintenance on the planets. The atmosphere is stable now, but this was not always the case. Both here and on Earth.”
“Yeah dust is always swirling. But, you’re a doctor? What about taking care of the other humans?”
“Sterling has taken point with them. I’m more useful going on trips to the Earth, collecting samples of life to assess how things are doing there from a medical standpoint.” He softly chuckled. “That’s why I was there when you were brought on board.”
“So, day and night? The same things? Doesn’t it get boring?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Would you rather I watch the feeds all day?”
“No. Like maybe play a game or something.” She dropped her voice. “Are you a mystery?”
“I actually do like mysteries. . .” He grinned. “Particularly human-shaped ones.”
His comment had landed when Anna glanced down.
“. . . Wait a second. Are you . . . flirting with me?”
Atlas’s lips quirked. “Are you saying you’re the mystery now?”
“You!” She laughed. “Don’t turn my question around!”
“You kind of walked into it though, but I guess it is flirting.”
Her cheeks reddened.
Quickly, he grinned. “Okay, your real question was how do I fill my time?” He rubbed his chin.
“Androids are efficient. Completing tasks does give me a sense of satisfaction, though.” Truthfully that was what he did with his time.
He imagined and cared for his plants, wishing the worlds were different.
He had brought back movies, including Friday Morning, but that was .
. .It was not the right time to share that.
Maybe later. What if she laughed at it? Like she did the reality TV? “Your turn. What do you like to do?”
“I like to do things with my hands.” Her voice became wistful, and she leaned in on her stomach.
“I was so tired when I lived with Paul running the bakery . . . but before, I liked to try to bake different things if we had ingredients. As long as they could be sold, I got to experiment some. When I was younger, I liked to draw like Tilly.”
Simple things. Simple wishes. And even then she was qualifying doing them.
“. . . I’m sorry Earth didn’t treat you right.”
Anna’s shoulders curled inward. “Well. Not really the Earth. More like the humans on it.”
“That’s what I meant.”
“I am hopeful to do so much more here.” A careful smile crossed her face. “It’s hard to think of fun things to do when you’re struggling.”
Maslow’s hierarchy of needs flashed before Atlas’s cortex.
It’s hard to focus on anything other than basic needs if you’re only surviving.
His gaze drifted downward to his own hands.
He looked at Anna, his hands twitching. I really want to know how she lived before.
With that man. Paul. But that would be insensitive to ask, right?
“Hey.” She patted him on the arm. “All joking aside, thank you for helping me today.”
“I was not much help. This is still not right, Anna.”
She softly smiled. “Shh . . . it’s alright.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Anna frowned. “Have you ever helped a human like this? I heard a name from before? Clara?”
He stiffened. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Stella mentioned it once.” Twin spots of color appeared on her face. “She said you came over with her, but didn’t say anything else.”
“Yes. Clara came over with me. I cared for her like Sterling does those humans now.”
“Oh.” Anna ducked her head.
His processors spun. Is she jealous? A part of him enjoyed thinking she might be.
Another part also knew there was no competition.
Clara had been dependent on him for everything.
Anna was not. With Clara, everything was provided, ideal, and perfect.
And if it wasn’t, she whined until he stretched his processors to make it right.
Instead here was Anna, who had turned over a box to be her chair here at the table, and who had another box next to the bed to hold a lamp.
It’s nowhere near the same. He softly touched her hand. “Ah. No. I haven’t experienced being needed like this before. Learning about you and humanity, how it is now, is new to me.”
Anna played with the edge of her hair. “Well, we’re nothing special. We just want to live in peace, right?”
“Nothing special?” The edges of his eyes crinkled. “Oh, I think that’s special enough though.”
She relaxed at that response.
Anna’s hair fell around her face, slightly greasy from sweating all day.
The air was hot inside, despite the fan blowing on them.
Did he need to turn on the AC? But the temperature was reading cooler on his sensors now that it was nighttime.
The room was quiet. But it was a peaceful silence, reminding him of when he took rotations here at this barn himself to care for the animals and landscape.
The itch to share something more came back. Maybe a song? The theme song from Friday Morning? Could he share?
Before he lost the nerve he reached within himself and started to play music from his memory. The song was delicate, lovely, full of feeling. Soon a voice came on, crooning about time lost. He watched Anna’s reaction carefully. “Sometimes when I’m alone, I play music like this.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “This played on the radio a lot back on Earth.”
“Why do you think it did? This is one of my favorites.” His whole body relaxed. “You see, before the war, humans created songs like this. It always struck me as so off that they could make this and then . . .”
“Yeah.” Anna winced.
“If you like this I have others I can show you.” He tapped his fingers to the beat. “I can play the saxophone live for you in person. Sterling is always trying to get me to play with him. I’ll bring one back.”
“Ohh, yes, please.” Her eyes sparkled. She turned to face the window as the night deepened, humming along with the melody.
Atlas watched her expressions until the song ended and silence returned. His gaze drifted around the room before landing on the little rectangular box between them. He rubbed his chin. She liked it. She really did. The theme song.
He felt a rush to share more but Anna let out a yawn a few seconds later.
She’s tired. He shifted. But still, he was reluctant to leave. It was safe here, but walking out and leaving her alone felt wrong. But still . . . She needs to sleep. “Anna? It’s late. I can help you to bed?"
“Don’t you need to charge or eat?”