“Honey, he thought you were a robot.” His eyes closed, like it hurt him to say it. “He has a girlfriend—a woman he seems pretty serious about from the recordings. Shelly Dover. I just don’t want you to do anything that will make this worse.”
“Like calling him?” The words choked her.
“Just watch the recordings before you do.” His tired eyes begged her to believe him.
“No.”
“You’re hurting me, Alainn.” He looked down to where her fingers clutched at his arms. When she loosened her hold, he said, “If you watch the recordings and you still want to talk to him, I’ll call him. I’ll take you to him myself.”
“You don’t have a car.”
“I do. A million and a half can buy a lot of things. A car, supplies to make Rosette 82GF—it can even fix leaky pipes.” He paused. “We’re going to get through this, honey.” A tear slipped down his cheek.
“I’m not crazy, Dad. Something is going on. He loves me. We’re in love.”
“I’m sure it felt that way. But, Alainn, if that were true, why hasn’t he called or e-mailed me since I delivered the Rosette 82GF?”
“Something must have happened. Just let me call him. I just need his number.”
He sighed heavily. “How about this: you go take a bath, we watch the recordings, and then we’ll call him together.”
“I’m not watching those stupid recordings,” she sobbed.
He rubbed her back as the tears kept flowing from her incessantly.
Eventually, he helped her to the bathroom and closed the door. She hobbled over to the bath before slowly lowering herself into the empty, dirty tub. The water that poured over her neck and shoulders was hot enough to pink her skin almost immediately. When the water was almost to the point of overflowing, she leaned up and turned off the faucet.
Like so many times before, Alainn let her head sink under the surface, trying to drown out the thought that Lorccan wanted Shelly. It was like her father knew that was her weakest link and had taken a hammer to it.
But Alainn knew something was wrong. She refused to give up on him—until he made her.
29
April 5, 2027
Alainn stood at the top of her hill, holding on to the bus stop sign for support. The cold metal bit into her hand as the wind slapped her face. From right where she was, if she stood just like this, she could see a sliver of Lorccan’s tower. Around the city, the sky was bruised with deep purples and reds as the sun rose.
She had been awake for three days, and her father had still refused to contact Lorccan. Alainn was a cup full of hope that had the smallest crack, leaking drip by drip away.
Her father had held to his guns for once in his life, refusing to give Alainn Lorccan’s contact information until she watched the recordings. The Internet had provided no results. Mr. Garbhan had an e-mail address, but she would have had no idea where to start or what to say in that format.
And Alainn wasn’t going to watch those recordings. She knew they’d only contain a bunch of lies.
She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket, glancing over the ten different bus numbers on it.
The old, blue-and-white bus chugged up their hill. Red letters scrolled across the top of the windshield: Carnival Street/Red Line Crossover. The bus halted directly in front of her, the large advertisement on its side telling her to buy Juicy Snacks—her kids would love them.
When the door folded out, an automaton gazed down at her from where he sat, high above in the driver’s seat. An oncoming car shone headlights on him, even though it was already pretty light out. The robot-driver’s skin reflected the light with an unnatural sheen.
When Alainn hesitated, he asked, “Are you getting on, miss?”
She nodded stiffly and forced her fingers to release the pole. After she paid, Alainn turned to the empty bus. The driver began ascending the hill before she took a step.
The long, vacant cabin had one other occupant—a man sleeping curled up in a stall. The plastic of the trash bag he wore over a dirty sweatshirt crinkled as he clutched a backpack tighter to him.
Alainn walked on, finding a seat in the very back, where no one could sit behind her. The day passed in a blur of faces, people getting on and off. Music played too loud out of headphones. Phone conversations were yelled out or whispered about important nothings.
Automatons populated every street corner, darted around every open café, and disembarked from their long, glass-pod busses as fast as others took their place.
She climbed on and off busses as messages shifted over ad screens. Her fingers touched cold poles as she waited to get on, get off, sit, or just stand. Backs bent as people snacked on food hidden in their laps. Mingled smells reminded her that she hadn’t eaten at all that day, while simultaneously destroying her appetite.
It was well past noon when Alainn disembarked, five city blocks from Lorccan’s tower. The streets seemed foreign, cold, wrong. Trash littered the ground. Food wrappers skittered around sleeping bodies, caught in the artificial breeze from passing traffic. Several groups passed. The robots marched in uniforms, and the humans huddled in heavy jackets.
Alainn wrapped her arms around herself as long, shining office buildings towered over her. Lorccan’s tower loomed into view. Just as before, the building sucked up the light around it. It was a vortex, a vacuum, and she wanted back in.
She walked the length of the building to where the long access road waited. It was completely empty; no trash or debris had ventured so far in.
She tamed her breaths into an even rhythm as she approached the screen that guarded the entrance to Lorccan’s garage.
Alainn stood, halfway down the length of the screen, not ready.
“Please state your purpose.” Rosebud 03AF’s voice said as crisp, black letters scrolled across the screen.
“It’s me, Rosebud. Alainn Murphy.”
“Hello, Alainn Murphy. Why are you back?”
She swallowed. “I need to talk to Lorccan.”
“No.”
“What?” She blinked at the two crisp, black letters on the screen. “Rosebud, I need to—I need to talk to him. I’m going to come clean. It’s time to come clean with him and tell him what I did.”
“No.” The words blinked on the screen.
“Stop . . . stop it. You told me that you wanted me to save him. To save all of you.”
“You did save us. He’s better; you need to move on with your life now.”
“Don’t you think that he deserves to decide that for himself?” Her voice cracked.
Lorccan’s face appeared on the screen, an excited spark in his eyes.
“Lorccan,” she breathed, her hand going to the screen. “I’m . . . I’m . . . it’s me. Jade.”
“Shelly? So you can come?” he said.
“What?” Alainn asked.
A woman’s voice came on. It was a low, melodious voice. “Yeah, of course I’ll come, Lor.”
“Thank you,” he mouthed with so much joy in his eyes.
Alainn bit her lip, hard. That look in his face—it was pulling her insides apart. But she could not stop her hand from rising up and touching the smile on his lips.
“You’ll go through the decontamination? You’ll do that?” he asked.
“Yeah, anything,” Shelly said.
“I love you,” he said. “You are such a wonderful person.”
The words slammed into Alainn, each one a bullet punching into her chest.
The screen went white, soft white, like bone.
“He doesn’t scream at night anymore, Alainn.”
Tears stung her skin, raw and worn down from days of crying.
“You saved him. Don’t you want him to be happy now?” Rosebud said, shooting the final bullet, the one aimed straight for Alainn’s heart.
“Damn it,” she whispered. The answer was yes, but Alainn wanted him to be happy with her. “I think I should talk to him.”
“No. I’ll protect him, even
from you. Go live your life. Find your own happiness somewhere else.” The screen went dark.
But Alainn didn’t leave like any self-respecting person would. She sat down next to the screen, folded her legs up, and cried.
The truth of it was, if Rosebud let her, Alainn would stay with Lorccan even if it hurt him—even if it hurt them both. Obviously, she was just that sort of wretched soul, wailing outside of his tower, forever shut out.
After all her tears were spent and had crusted on her cheeks, she stood and faced the screen. “Just—give Lorccan the chance to reject me himself, okay? That’s all I ask. If he tells me he wants Shelly instead, then fine. But, it’s not your choice to make, so you really should let him do it.”
The screen didn’t turn back on. Rosebud was done with Alainn.
Still, Alainn walked down to where the steel barrier closed off Lorccan’s garage. She tried to pry open the door, but it didn’t budge. With all her strength, she pushed the door and then even kicked it once, but nothing happened.
Closing her eyes, Alainn leaned back against the steel. Maybe if she waited long enough a delivery would arrive and she could slip in with it. Alainn immediately dismissed the idea—she would still have to get past Rosebud 03AF’s security system to get anywhere in the tower.
A siren blared out, growing louder and louder. A police car pulled in front of the entrance to the garage. Obviously, Rosebud wanted to add a little humiliation to Alainn’s broken heart.
A police automaton stepped out of the cruiser. “Ma’am, the owners of this building have complained about you being on their property. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“What if I don’t?” she asked, voice rasping.
“Then I’ll have to take you into custody.” His face was almost featureless, as if they’d tried to make him look like everyman but ended up making him look like nothing at all.
She pushed herself off the wall with her foot and sighed. “All right, I’m going.”
He waited inside his cruiser for her to walk down the access road before backing out. When she paused just beside the building, the automaton pulled up beside her. “Move along,” came over his loud speaker.
She nodded, then continued walking down the city street—and away from Lorccan.
Eyes skipped past her as she climbed back onto the bus though her cheeks were stiff from her hard cry.
The seats next to Alainn remained empty for most of the rides, even though there was more than one person standing. On about her fifth transfer and in the second hour of her trip, she pulled her phone from her purse. Scrolling through her contacts slowly, she pressed Greg’s name.
The phone rang five times, long, low dulcet tones. “Alainn?” he answered, sounding a little surprised.
“Hey,” she said while grasping onto the handle of the seat in front of her.
“It’s really loud wherever you are. Did you say something?”
She raised her voice a little, “Hey, Greg. It’s me. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Alainn. I can’t really hear you, though. I’ve been trying to reach you for months.”
Her voice rose even louder, “Hey, I was wondering if you would you let me finish the season?” A few people looked over, but so what if random people heard her? Right now, she couldn’t care less.
“Hell, Alainn, there’s only like two weeks left in the ski season. The snow’s already melting up here.” He sounded very much like he was saying no.
“Greg, I’ll come on as a volunteer if I have to. I’m sorry to do this to you—but I need to get out of here and be busy.” She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw.
She would not allow herself to cry on a public bus.
Greg stayed silent for a while. Her fingers squeezed the plastic handle tighter, waiting.
“I’ll . . . come get you, Alainn. I can do it tomorrow.”
“I’m not asking you to do that, Greg. Just let me work or do something—that’s all I ask. I can get a ride up there.” She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her.
“Yeah, but I’m going to do it anyway. Can you be ready in the afternoon, around three or four?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be ready.”
30
April 6, 2027
The bloom that Alainn sat in front of was as big as her head, unusual so early in the year. Her face pushed fully into it. Soft petals brushed over her cheeks and eyelids. Every time she inhaled the rose’s scent, she thought of her mother.
Her mother, the first Rose.
“So you’re leaving?” Colby asked from somewhere behind Alainn.
She pulled back to look at him.
To her surprise, Colby sat beside her on the dirt. Leaning forward, he reached out and softly touched a big yellow bloom that bounced and pushed into his touch. “Smells like Mom,” he said.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
He looked a little shaggier than the last time she’d seen him, his dark hair falling in soft waves around his face. The reflected sunlight on his glasses made his expression inscrutable.
She hadn’t seen him for days—not since that first day, when she woke up.
“I used to help her garden, you know, when I was really little—I stopped when you were old enough to do it.”
“I don’t remember that,” she said. What she remembered was her mother and her. Alainn was little and her mother vibrant. They caught raindrops in their hands, picked worms from the dirt, giggled, and danced around victoriously each time a new bloom opened.
“So you’re in love with this guy?” Colby asked.
“Shut up, Colby.” Alainn stuck her face back into the bloom, burying it.
He raised his brows, seemingly unperturbed by her reaction. “And he was in love with you?”
“That probably sounds totally crazy to you, huh?” She shook her head. “A guy falling in love with a robot . . .”
“That would be strange behavior. But he didn’t fall in love with a robot. Your glands produce human scents and pheromones, which then produce reactions in him so, chemically, he would have known that you were human even if he hadn’t cognitively processed it. I just can’t reason out why he believed you were a robot for as long as he did.”
Just like Colby to rationalize the shit out of the situation.
She thought about it for a minute, chewing on her lip. “The only humans he ever had contact with were his parents, and I don’t think they were very affectionate.”
He turned his head toward her, looking confused. “That’s not logical. How could he never have had human contact?”
“He did, but only through phones and computers. He’s really scared of viruses or bacteria from the outside.”
“Mysophobia, fear of germs,” he said.
“It’s just . . . Colby, I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but the farther I get away from it, the clearer it all becomes. I was the trial run, the practice for the real thing. And now he can have his AI robot, completely new and fresh and unaware, and his girlfriend, too.”
Saying the words felt like a betrayal because they just didn’t at all address the kind of person Lorccan was. He didn’t plan this; he didn’t get her “rebooted” on purpose. Maybe he would have gone through with marrying her if she never had been. But now he could have what he always wanted—something real in his life. Shelly. He had no idea there was a castoff in the situation, no idea there was still a Jade out there whose love for him hadn’t vanished in a malfunction.
“Do you know his girlfriend’s name?”
“Why?”
“You could look her up.”
“What?” She turned a glare on Colby. “To what, ruin his life out of spite?”
Colby touched the bloom again. “If I were him, I’d want to know the truth.”
“Why do you care anyway, Colby? Shouldn’t you be off at the university being special?” The moment the words came out, she felt a wash of shame for spitting them at him. “I’m sorry; I just
thought you didn’t care what happened. You would have been fine with Dad going to prison and Rose staying out.”
He looked off. “Dad should have gone to prison. He should be in there right now. He’s never going to stop doing this to us. It’s his fault you spent months pretending to be a robot. It’s his fault what happened seven years ago—”
“Please. Don’t.”
He shook his head. “I’m just really tired of watching you taking his punishments. If I’d known what you planned to do, I would have stopped you. I would have taken him to the police station myself. And as for Rose . . .” He looked at her, and in the look Alainn saw something she hadn’t really seen in her steady, logical brother before—suspicion. He lowered his voice, “Why would she be willing to risk killing you to get you out? That doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“The T9640 was her idea?” she asked.
“Your friend is here to pick you up,” Rose said from behind them.
They both spun to look at Rose. She stood framed in their back door, dark hair up in a neat bun. Alainn had noticed in the last few days that Rose was looking a lot less like her somehow.
Greg was in the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand, talking to her father. His eyes lit up when he saw Alainn, and she couldn’t help but smile a little—the first smile she’d felt come on naturally in a while.
“Hey, good to see you.” He reached out and pulled her into a hug.
The coarse hairs of his wool sweater brushed across her face as she squeezed him. Pulling back, she smiled up. “You are the nicest person in the whole world. Thanks for coming to get me.”
“It’s cool.” He ran a hand over his buzzed head. “It’s good to get out of the mountains, even just for a couple hours. Sometimes I forget the real world exists.”
“Good to see you.” Colby offered his hand to Greg.
“You too, man.” Greg shook his hand. He glanced over to Rose, before turning back. “We should probably be heading right back out, though, not to be rude. I don’t want to be taking the roads at night.”
They loaded Alainn’s skis and duffel bag into the trunk of his SUV, waved good-bye to her family, and were descending the hill in less than twenty minutes.
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