Chapter 42
Chapter forty-two
Atlas
Something was wrong.
Atlas could feel it. Not in the way anything was amiss physically, but in how Anna acted. She held her hand to her head, slouched and downcast. They were inside, eating the bread Anna made the other day, along with a ration bar and a supplement smoothie he had made that morning.
The small wooden table was littered with food. Now that they had a kitchen setup and a refrigerator, he had been stocking the house with as many carbohydrates as he could find.
Anna picked at the food, only eating a few bites of the protein bar. She had been refusing anything more substantial the last few days, and he’d chalked it up to the end of the pregnancy. Now even the regression in what she was willing to eat pinged at him.
“Something is wrong. Don’t tell me it’s not.” Pushing up his sleeves, he sat in front of her, knees apart. Then he gently touched Anna’s hand. “Did you and Nora have an argument?”
She took her hand away from her forehead. “No. Why?”
“She was glaring at you when getting into the transport earlier.” He moved her hair up behind her ears. “What’s wrong?”
“No. Nora is fine. Why do you think something is wrong?” She covered her face in her hands. “Have you seen something change in me?”
He gave a half smile. “I might not be human, Anna, but I’m not dense. Bedside manners, remember? Can you tell me?” Time stretched without an answer and then he asked again. “Anna?”
She pressed her fingers to her forehead, rubbing.
Atlas gently tugged her hands back down. “Does your head hurt? Tell me. Please.”
“Alright.” Her lip trembled. “Earlier with Nora I figured out that the chip isn’t just making me not angry. I think it’s stealing my memories.”
Atlas froze. “Stealing memories? What exactly did you notice?”
Her eyes darted side to side. “I get this feeling, like someone dunked me in cold water, and then I sort of freeze. Then I can’t remember what I was upset about. It wasn’t that bad when you put the chip in, but I am worried it’s getting worse.”
“You can’t remember?” Atlas’s lip curled. Even before this, he was finished with this experiment. This stupid overreach and interference. He pushed his sleeves up even further. “Let’s remove it.”
Before he could reach behind her head, Anna stopped him. “Atlas, no!”
He lowered his hand. “Anna. Let me. I had my suspicions before but now I’m certain after what you said that this needs to be removed.”
“No! Atlas!” Anna grabbed at him, wide-eyed and in fear. “I made a deal.”
“Listen to me!” He put his hands on her shoulders. “No deals matter if they’re hurting you.”
The words hung between them. Atlas was done. So done with inaction. And so angry on Anna’s behalf.
Anna sat back, tugging on her hair with both hands. “I’m just forgetting things. Look, after the baby is here we can take it off, okay? Maybe you can talk with them then. I don’t want to go to that facility and have this huge issue . . . I just want to have my baby in peace when I’m there.”
Atlas ground his teeth, his entire body giving an error code over the tension. “Anna, you always should have had peace.”
“Atlas. Don’t be mad at me. Please. I don’t want to do anything to change things right before the baby is born.” She swallowed heavily. “But do you know what’s happening? I don’t think there are any long-term effects, right?”
“. . .Come here.” He reached over, pulling her in his arms. “Sterling is tracking everything and is positive it’s not doing any long-term damage.”
“That’s what really matters. We need to play their game a little longer.” She pressed her head into his chest. “Just hold me, okay?”
“Of course.” Atlas tightened his arms. He forced his processors to relax.
Anna didn’t need his anger. Especially when she couldn’t even manufacture her own.
He held her to him, stroking her head with his fingers.
“Only Sterling will be present when the baby is born. Even without the neurochip, there never was any consensus to ask for more of you.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to give them any reason to take any of this away.” She shook her head against his chest. “Not you. Not this place. Not my baby . . .”
“It needs to come off Anna.” Atlas kissed the top of her hair. “Listen to me. I need to protect you. I’m still going to connect and let them know what it’s doing to you.”
“No . . . don’t say you’re taking it off.”
“Fine, but I’m letting them know what’s happening, alright?” His voice was strained. “You need to let me do something, Anna. I love you. I have to do something.”
Anna stiffened in his arms.
“It’s true.” Atlas leaned in closer. “I love you.”
The words were true. Not how he’d wanted to say them, but . . .“Please, Anna. Let me do something. You’re my Friday Morning movie.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I love you too,” she whispered. Then she reached for his hand. Tears in her eyes. “I love that movie too.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I trust you.”
Everything in him lit up hearing her say it back. She loved him. She trusted him.
He walked her to the bed, turned out the lights in the kitchen and sat there, holding her, as the night deepened.
Moonlight didn’t come in through the window tonight, as there was a thick cloud covering overhead.
The sky matched his mood, especially when it started to rain a minute later, heavy on the metal roof.
Anna tapped his chest. “The rain is good for the garden at least, yes? Atlas?”
He realized he was holding himself stiffly, like an armchair, not as a lover. And she was equally stiff.
“. . . Atlas?”
Outside, the rain let loose on their home. He pulled her in and covered them up with the blanket, then forced himself to loosen his grip. “Yes. We got the seeds in the ground in time.”
Anna swallowed. “Don’t be mad when you message them, okay?”
“I’m not mad with you, Anna.” Atlas exaggerated his breathing. “But anger overall isn’t something you need to hide.” Then lower. “Which is why this whole experiment has been asinine.”
“I know.” Her breath hitched. “I’m so happy I’m here though. Listening to the rain.”
“Me too. The rain cycles here are different . . .” Atlas forced himself to talk about the soil retention and atmosphere changes until she relaxed in his arms.
The rain was still pounding outside when she finally did sleep.
Then he contemplated his words. They need to see what they are doing.
What the cost is. That they are in the wrong.
With that in his thoughts, he entered the communal mind, which immediately hushed upon his entry.
The data lines stilled as he said his piece.
“The neurochip is hurting Anna. It is unethical. She is losing her thoughts along with her anger. I want to renegotiate the deal. The neuro linking is not working as intended.”
Leo was the first to reply. “That is because it is external. That’s the friction effect from it having to work so far. Now, if we were allowed to implant it internally . . .”
“Absolutely not.” Atlas clenched his jaw. “Do you not have enough data yet? I want it off!”
The researchers pinged back, sending over a clear interest in seeing how a human’s brain changed with the chip after childbirth.
Stella spoke over the data. “We are leaving you alone. This was the deal. This is what she agreed to.”
Childbirth. Atlas put his hands on Anna’s stomach. Over the kicking baby girl inside. “The deal needs to be renegotiated.”
Discussions fired across the grid. The result was the same as before.
Half agreed, while the other side did not.
He drowned out most contacts, the friendly voices like Starla and the others.
Those were not the opinions he needed to change.
Only the indifferent ones truly mattered. He needed to win enough of them over.
As it was, there was still no consensus.
Atlas snapped over the wires. “I’ll take matters into my own hands then.”
Stella hissed, “Then the deal is void.”
“I don’t care about the deal! This should never have been done in the first place.”
Stella’s line was shrill. “No—“
Atlas reinstated his firewall before she could say more, resisting the many individual pings at him to connect. He ignored them all. Stella didn’t have the majority of consensus either. Her threats meant little.
He tightened his grip on Anna, pulling her tight into his chest. The only thing that mattered to him was in his arms. And he would do anything. Anything. To protect her.