38. Chapter 38
Chapter thirty-eight
Atlas
Atlas startled at a knock on the door. Who is that? Of all the times for an interruption. His body tensed, alert and wary in a way he hadn’t had to reach for in years. Decades. Long-dormant coding activated the desire to protect.
“Anna? Are you alright?” Nora’s voice sounded through the metal paneling, muffled. “We are back from that dumb dinner.”
“Oh. Nory.” She struggled to sit up as he opened his arms.
He resisted moving further, staying reclined in the bed, one of his arms looped possessively around Anna’s waist.
Nora opened the door a second later. Her eyes went wide, darting between both of their faces. And then to his arm holding her. “Oh well. Nevermind. You’re fine.” She let out a huge grin. “More than fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Without waiting for a response, Nora turned and left, closing the door behind her.
Anna’s hands went to her face. “Oh. Shit.”
“Are you embarrassed?” Atlas chuckled. He tugged her hand down. “Why? Nora shares the same connection with Simon.”
“Not embarrassed exactly.” She swallowed. “Or maybe a little. I don’t know what I really feel.” Under her breath she muttered, “Not angry though, that’s for damn sure.”
Goosebumps ran up Anna’s arm, and he couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or the cold. The blanket was bunched at his side. He didn’t need any more warmth between his sweater and her body heat, which was almost feverish. “Are you cold?”
“No.” Then she slumped back against him.
He ran his fingers down her cheeks as he settled her against his chest. She didn’t say anything more, or resist. Just made little scooting motions to fit better. Friday Morning was winding down. Should he show her another? The credits rolled and it was dark, so dark outside. “What did you think?”
“It was beautiful.” She said softly “I didn’t know anything like that existed before. I want to be like that. That family.”
Atlas’s whole body rang with certainty. “Yes. I want that too.”
The television turned to static and he turned the screen off.
He held her tight. She felt wonderful in his arms. She was beautiful, not in the classic, artificial way, with perfect angles and delicate features, but with imperfections that showed her character.
Hands that were calloused and smile lines on her face.
And eyes that were uncertain. Vulnerable. But still trusting.
Atlas pulled her more firmly against him, rocking her against his chest. “Shh, rest. Sleep will help. We’ve had a busy few days.”
“You’re right.” Her head nodded on his chest. “Will you hold me the entire night?”
“I was hoping to.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep now. I have trouble sleeping.”
“I’ve noticed,” he answered drily. The lantern light was turned down low, but he adjusted it even further. “Let me maybe try to settle you. Do you want to hear how we changed Mars? The initial terraforming?”
“Yes!” Anna pulled back up to look him in the face. “I don’t want to sleep; I want to hear about that!”
“At least rest then, and I’ll explain?”
She dutifully lay back in his arms.
Atlas ran through the timeline in his mind.
“Back then, years ago, humans started the process here. They used bombs. Powerful ones. That jumpstarted geologic activity on Mars again.” The process to change Mars was truly a technological miracle.
Even now, so many years later, they still monitored it as if the fixes were somehow wrong. They weren’t.
Anna listened until he paused between facts. “Could we help Earth like that?”
“No.” He sighed heavily. “We can not help Earth in the same way. We were able to be aggressive with Mars because it had no life for us to work around. Even then, changing the atmosphere took many years. We started with establishing oxygen. That was before the war. In fact, some of the bombs that were used on Earth for warfare were the same ones used here.”
“I thought those caused radiation poisoning?” Her hand had started fidgeting with his sweater, like it did on the hem of her shirt when she was thinking hard.
“Many years have passed since then. Listen.” Atlas spoke of the rivers and the technicalities of filtering water.
Sometime during his lecture, he felt Anna’s body loosen, her limbs going floppy. Despite her interest, she really was tired. Then he turned to the intricacies of soil management until he saw her eyes droop, and she did little shifting movements, snuggling in.
Atlas moved on to discussing how they recreated a magnetic field.
He used technical names, as if he were reading from a textbook—every technical term he could remember, along with the complicated physics behind them.
Then he watched, amused, as Anna’s eyes stayed closed for longer and longer periods.
He made his voice purposefully monotone and low. Then slowed the speed.
Finally, a sleeping Anna lay in his arms. She was snoring softly, but limp and at ease.
He grinned. It worked. Only then did he stop talking, letting the crickets that had just come out in the dark have the floor.
It was past the time he usually went into stasis for the night.
He never felt fatigue, but was mindful of his energy conservation.
He ate earlier with Anna and had enough sugar packets to last him over a month on the table.
Still, Atlas didn’t want to go into stasis.
He wanted to stay fully aware. That, and resting like this brought its own clarity beyond charging.
It was peaceful. Even the baby, active earlier, was quiet.
He put his hand on her belly and felt a half-hearted kick against his hand. “Did I put you asleep too?”
He shifted one hand to press on her side. She would be a mother soon.
His feelings for Anna were soft and definite. But this baby . . .
He covered the kicking heel with his palm.
I’m not the father. He didn’t know how to feel there.
Well, I never could be the father anyway.
He lacked any genetic code. Other android and human couplings had raised children before, even created them together using artificial insemination technology.
But that was such a big leap. It didn’t matter to him that the baby was half Paul.
The fact that Anna was carrying her mattered more.
But to be a father? If he was committing to her, that would be his role.
Did Anna want that? Did he want that?
The baby kicked on his palm. Anna would need help. And the biggest thing Atlas knew is that he wanted to help her. He pushed lightly on Anna’s stomach, at the little feet poking out. “Were you listening to me talk as well?”
That was wild to think about, and he let his hand rest there as the soft presses continued. He swallowed, suddenly thinking of the plans for the little girl Stella initially had. “Don’t worry, little one. You have a strong Mama. And I promise I’ll keep you both safe.”
Luckily it seemed the contractions had slowed down.
There hadn’t been any this evening. Which was probably due to there being less stress and activity.
His sensory cortex heated as Anna stirred in his arms. He’d like to examine her, but wasn’t sure that would be the best thing for either of them right now.
A tingle flowed over his neural mind at the thought.
No. Especially the checks that came later in pregnancy.
None of those would be . . . well, strictly medical at this point.
He would need to do them some time, from a medical standpoint, but it would be fine to wait. Or maybe he should have Sterling come out here to have more clinical guidance.
His hand paused. Anna would need to go to the facility to give birth.
And she had that chip still on her spine.
After the birth, after Stella got her data, the chip would need to come off.
By then, they would have seen she was no risk.
By then, everything would be settled. It had to be.
Once the birth was past and everything was calm, then everything would naturally relax.
Atlas removed his hand. That was another thing. Right now Anna couldn’t even be mildly irritated with him. How could a relationship survive like that? What was it doing to her mind when she couldn’t feel anger?
What a complication. He balled his fist on top of the blanket. None of this needed to happen. It was all because of Stella and the other half of the communal mind — too afraid to see right from wrong.
He watched her sleep. Her hair tumbling over his chest and onto the pillow. Calm and relaxed. Open and trusting. He would protect her. She was his. He traced down her cheek in the night. No one would hurt her again.
He would make sure of it.
“I’m not going back,” Atlas whispered to Anna. “I’ll stay here with you. We are going to make that Friday Morning come true. For both of us.“ He placed a hand on her belly. “For all of us.”
He opened his connection wide, linking to the communal mind. Once he was present and the hum silenced, he announced, “I’ll be staying here. With them. From now on.”
And then he disconnected. Firmly. Before allowing any discussion.
Neither the communal mind, nor others’ opinions, would sway him any longer.