by A. W. Cross
“Will it ever stop?” Pine asked.
“I hope so,” replied Joseph. “Otherwise, they might have to send you back to making the sea habitable.”
Pine looked at him sharply. “Do you think so?” Maybe wishes did come true after all. James would be thrilled.
Joseph set his plate down and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, Pine, I’m sorry. I was making a joke. That was insensitive of me. I know you’re probably a bit homesick.”
Pine nodded, crestfallen. The confines of the house suddenly seemed very small. She turned her attention back to the screen, now showing an aerial view of a sharp division of land. Beyond the normally bucolic terrain of Foxwept, the earth had been strategically salted. Devoid of plant life, the barren, brown soil stretched for half a mile before ending abruptly in burning, blackened earth. Between the two stood a line of men and women in the red and black military uniforms of Foxwept Province, large cannisters strapped to their backs. The hoses attached to the cylinders spewed a sticky fire, which the soldiers aimed at the wild tangle of foliage on the other side.
The Perimeter. It was the reason Pine existed and how Foxwept had finally gained its independence.
“Did you know about all of this? I mean, did they explain to you why you were created?” Joseph asked, waving his fork in the air.
“Yes. We were supposed to be soldiers in the war. Then the Goldhare Horizon disaster happened, and we were sent to the ocean instead.” Pine had been several months into her military training when she was told that, instead, she was going to be a farmer. She was taken to have her capabilities altered the very next day.
The disaster had been the fallout of genetically engineered crops intended to increase yield and bolster the self-sufficiency of the Blackmoth Republic. And they had, but unfortunately, they’d also caused mutations in the weeds sharing the same soil, and in the insects and animals feeding on them. The result had been catastrophic: an impenetrable jungle of monster plants and strange creatures that spread swiftly across the center of the country, leaving only small pockets of civilization as the citizens of Blackmoth were pushed into the outlying provinces to survive.
Joseph shook his head. “We thought the whole country was going to starve.”
But despite the looming threat of food shortages, it had been an unexpected coup for Foxwept. For years the governors of the bioregions that would eventually become Foxwept Province had wished to unite their assets into a new territory within the Blackmoth Republic. But since the regions were so rich in resources, the provinces that held them were loath to let them go and a civil war, the war that Pine was created for, had nearly broken out to stop this separation.
But to prevent countrywide famine, the government had hastily agreed to the reformation, diverting the war and allowing each bioregion to increase productivity. Foxwept had responded promptly and sent workers—human and synadroid—into the ocean to farm the abundant sea life there. Then, when it had looked like the new wilderness would take over and push humankind into the ocean itself, the same workforce began constructing habitats in preparation for a new era for humanity.
“Good thing they figured out how to fight it,” Joseph remarked as the relay drone focused on the gouts of incendiary gel, known as Foxwept Tar, streaming into the seething vegetation.
“Why weren’t they able to stop it?” asked Pine. “It’s just plants and animals, right?”
Joseph wiped his mouth with a napkin, seemingly pleased that Pine was making conversation even though she had the information in her database. “It is, but the mutations make them grow incredibly fast, and reproduce even faster. They tried pesticides and herbicides, and initially they worked, but then the wildlife adjusted and became resistant—and even more vigorous.” He pointed at the screen, where another drone transmitted a vast stretch of stories-high buildings blanketed by twisting vines. “At first people thought the cold winter would kill them off, so they waited. But it didn’t. And by the time we realized that nature wasn’t going to help, it was too late.”
“Why not just burn them all down at once? If burning works—” Humans seemed very adept at destroying things. Why was this any different?
“The area under siege is too large. If we burned it all at once, or even large parts of it, the ash and smoke would cover the sun and the temperature would plummet…and then who knows what would happen? It’s not a risk the government’s willing to take.” Joseph appeared to be enjoying himself. His voice had the same enthusiastic tone Pine heard whenever he explained some obscure technical concept to James.
James.
“And this…this is what James used to do?” She tried to look nonchalant, as though she was still simply making conversation.
She hadn’t seen much of him in the two weeks since her arrival. He was formal and painfully polite, greeting her stiffly then retreating straight to the workshop. A few times, he’d lingered in the doorway, his eyes burning into her, as though he’d wanted to say something, and she’d waited for him to confront her, to say what was on his mind. Maybe then she could stop straining to hear his voice. Why are you punishing yourself? The hostility practically radiated off him, and yet she burned with a perverse need for him to declare his loathing out loud.
“It was. Until— Oh my goodness, will you look at the time!” Joseph gaped at the screen. “Sorry, Pine, I have to get going. We can talk more later.”
Don’t go! her mind screamed at him. Please don’t leave me alone here. I’ll suffocate inside these walls. Stay here and tell me more about James. Calmly, she asked, “Can I please come with you?”
Joseph frowned, his expression sincerely apologetic. “Pine, I wish you could. But I think you should get settled here first.”
Settled? It’s been two weeks and I’m still sitting in the same damn chair. How much more settled can I get? “I thought we were going to buy clothes?” Pine couldn’t have cared less about the clothes. She just needed to get out of this house.
Joseph grimaced. “We are. But the errands I need to do this morning can’t wait, and I won’t be able to keep an eye on you while I’m doing them. Where I’m going is…well, remember what I told you a couple of weeks ago? About your value?”
Pine gave a curt nod and looked away. It was the same answer every time she asked.
“But,” Joseph said hurriedly, “when I get back, we can go out for a meal and—”
“I don’t eat,” Pine pointed out.
“Of course.” Joseph colored. “I’m sorry. It’s so easy to forget. Well, we can do whatever you like then—take a walk, go get you some new outfits. Is there anything you’d like to see or do?”
Go home. She shook her head.
Joseph stood awkwardly by the door. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
What would he do if she said no? She was tempted to make a fuss, to ask him to stay, but she had promised herself she would play along. Still, she watched carefully as Joseph typed the exit code into the keypad by the door. He’d programmed it the day after she’d gotten there.
67B44N388. Just in case.
With a last clumsy wave, Joseph closed the door behind him.
An hour later, Pine had had enough. On the wallscreen, the roving reporter stood with his microphone in hand, speaking to a large group about the Synadroid Emancipation Project. The crowd beamed at the camera, patting each other on the back as the reporter congratulated them on their victory. “I hope the synadroids know how lucky they are, and how grateful they should be to you,” the reporter said to the woman next to him.
She didn’t even bother to demur. “Yes, but all life is precious. It was only right we rescued them from servitude.”
Yeah, so precious and right you didn’t even bother to include any actual synadroids in your celebration. A figure weaving through the crowd caught Pine’s eye. Oh. Except for the one at the back, serving the drinks.
Hypocrites.
The walls pressed in on her again. She had to get out, despite Joseph’s warnings.<
br />
Now.
In her bedroom, Pine hastily checked her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was an odd shape, but she had no idea whether that was part of the style or not. Biting her lip, she deliberated for a few moments before smoothing it down a bit with her hands. Hopefully, that was better.
There was nothing, however, she could do about the clothes. Although they were much more comfortable than the ones she’d arrived in, they didn’t suit her any better. Folded in the drawer, they were charming, the large-patterned flowers vibrant colors that emulated the coral reefs of the Ghostlight. But on Pine, the dresses hung awkwardly, the mid-calf hem of the skirt obviously cut for a much taller woman.
It will have to do. Pine checked her reflection once more, wincing, then closed the bedroom door behind her.
At the front door, Pine hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keypad. Her courage quailed, more from what Joseph would think than the unknown dangers outside.
But that was exactly what Joseph wanted her to feel. Afraid. Afraid of the outside and his reaction. Then she would sit quietly and do as she was told. Well, that didn’t seem to be how humans acted. And she was trying to be human, wasn’t she?
You can’t have it both ways, Joseph.
She hadn’t chosen to be here. She hadn’t chosen Joseph or his fears. Going outside on her own might be foolish, but was it more foolish than blindly following the orders of someone who could sell or even destroy her on a whim?
An unpleasant heat seared through Pine. Her senses were ready to overload and burn her out. If she stayed here one second more, she would start glitching.
Is this what it feels like to be human?
She punched in the code, stepped out into the fresh air, and didn’t look back.
James sat in his car across the street from Joseph’s house, composing himself to go in. Joseph’s car was gone, which meant Pine would be in there alone. He’d had another sleepless night, tossing and turning for hours. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and it was as maddening as hell. He stood by everything he’d said, no matter how benign she seemed, sitting there quietly at Joseph’s, day after day. It was even more alarming than if she’d been overtly hostile. Of course, Joseph wasn’t going to believe him, the way she behaved. But time would tell, he was sure of it. She wouldn’t be able to keep up her façade forever.
He and Joseph hadn’t really talked about Pine since that first day, and though things between them had gone on as normal, it felt different. Strained, somehow.
And it was all down to her.
He just couldn’t understand Joseph’s instant and inexplicably strong attachment to her, and even Antonio’s seeming lack of concern. Was he, James, the problem? Like Joseph seemed to think? He frowned at the waiting house.
I wish I felt differently about it. But I just can’t.
What had happened to him wasn’t Pine’s fault, but he couldn’t separate her from the rest of her kind. Pine, as harmless as she seemed, as fascinating as she might be, was still one of them. Sometimes, her proximity tightened his stomach with anticipation, while at other times it closed off his throat and opened his ears to the screams of his dying comrades, filling his head with a face at once dispassionate and crazed, a god-in-the-moment exacting his revenge.
Even now, James’s chest tightened, and his vision narrowed. He lowered the car window and drew in deep breaths of the crisp air.
Pine was a ticking time bomb. But arguing with Joseph wouldn’t help the situation. He would have to play along, protecting Joseph while he waited for a chance to…what? Expose her? Get rid of her? Kill her?
He’d have to worry about that later. But one thing he knew for certain—what had happened out on the Perimeter would not happen here, not with Joseph, not with Pine. He would make sure of that.
Time to quit stalling. He glanced in the rearview mirror, groaning at the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like hell, and Joseph, in his fatherly way, was sure to comment on it. Well, it couldn’t be helped.
Movement from Joseph’s front door caught his eye. Pine was on her own, turning her head as she peered up and down the street.
She’s sneaking out.
James should’ve jumped out of the car and demanded she return to the house. Joseph didn’t want her out and about just yet. Sentient androids like Pine were valuable and desirable, often for less than savory—and legal—purposes. And since the idealism of emancipation had outpaced the legislation, she was at risk alone.
And she knew that. Joseph had told her more than once. So what was she doing? Yes, being cooped up all day was probably unpleasant, but was putting herself in danger worth the risk? She should’ve been grateful Joseph wanted to keep her safe. It seemed a fair trade. Well, maybe now Joseph would start to understand how untrustworthy she was.
At the end of the walkway, Pine opened the gate and stepped into the street. She watched several women walking on the other side for a few minutes then straightened and headed down her side of the pavement in the same direction. She mimicked their casual stride, the carefree toss of their hair.
She was trying to fit in.
Good luck with that.
Even if she had been human, the way she was dressed made her stick out in the fashionable downtown. The ridiculous hair they’d given her had lost its carefully constructed style and become flat in places and spiky in others, and the flowery dress was obviously for a taller, more matronly woman. And peering out from underneath it all was her small, pale face, so incongruous with the sunny sky.
If Joseph had been here, James would’ve grabbed his arm, thrust him in front of Pine and said, “You see? She can never be human.”
So what should he do? He pulled out his transcomm and tapped the screen, intending to call Joseph, tell him she’d escaped. But he didn’t.
I’ll follow her. Maybe if I’m lucky and she truly is trying to escape, she’ll actually manage it. Problem solved.
And if anything bad happens to her…
He pushed that last thought away, but he’d already decided. If anyone tried to hurt her, he would step in and protect her. He might be happy to let her escape, but he wasn’t a monster. Besides, Joseph would never forgive him.
Better get a move on then.
She was at the top of the street now, just turning the corner onto the main downtown street.
James walked quickly, afraid he would lose her in the crowds.
He needn’t have worried. Unused to such a cosmopolis, Pine had stopped only a block away and was staring into one of the large bay windows, captivated. Her gaze moved slowly down the length of whatever she was looking at, and her hand unconsciously reached up to stroke her awful wig then dropped to her shoulder where she rubbed the fabric of her sleeve between her fingers.
James stepped back around the corner, so she wouldn’t catch him. What was she looking at that had her so enthralled? What would pique a synadroid’s interest?
When he stepped out from around the corner, hoping she’d moved on to the next set of stores, she’d disappeared. Damn. He sped up, craning to catch sight of her, then slowed as he came to the store window where she’d paused, curious to see what had been so appealing. It wasn’t what he’d expected.
It was a clothing and beauty store catering to young women. Not the carefully composed, glossy urbane styles that seemed so popular these days, but simple, unassuming clothing that made the mannequin in the display appear effortless and graceful, as though she were standing in a field of wildflowers on a bright spring day.
The hair that had captured Pine’s interest was long and straight, the dark sable unadorned by highlights or accessories. Blunt bangs had been cut into the hair at the front, falling just above the model’s eyebrows. Her black sleeveless jumpsuit was made of a thin, soft-looking fabric that was cuffed at just the right length on the mannequin’s ankles.
Pine must’ve been programmed with good taste.
Speaking of Pine, where the hell is she?
He cou
ldn’t see her, even with his considerable height. Damn. Maybe it was time to call Joseph.
As James flicked through his contacts, a commotion further down the street caught his attention. A crowd was gathering on a corner just a few blocks away. James closed his eyes and said a quick prayer. Please don’t let it be Pine. Out of the house less than thirty minutes and already she was causing trouble.
But she wasn’t, not exactly. Much of the street was alive with buskers, and this particular corner housed a magician—the focus of the crowd. His sign boasted that he, The Amazing Julian Saturna, was a craftsman, using no technology in his magic tricks. Despite Foxwept’s reputation, there had been a resurgence of anti-tech sentiment lately, and this young man seemed happy to capitalize on it.
Pine was watching from the crowd, her back to James. He blended with the throng as well as he could and waited to see what the peddler had to offer.
The magician, a young man with sparse facial hair that James had no doubt was his most prized possession, held a crystal-clear bottle of water up to the crowd. He circled slowly on his heel, making sure everyone assembled saw the bottle from all sides.
“I need a volunteer.”
The crowd laughed self-consciously, shrinking in on itself. James hunched his shoulders. A public spectacle like this was one of his worst nightmares.
“Anyone? No? How about you, miss? You look like a discerning young woman.” He winked charmingly at Pine.
James groaned inwardly. Out of all the women in the crowd, the magician had to choose her. Probably because she looked like an ignorant tourist, fresh from the countryside, which wasn’t too far from the truth.
“Hold out your hand, miss, and take the bottle,” the young man instructed.
Pine did as she was told, wrapping her fingers around the plastic.