by A. W. Cross
James’s low voice murmured for a few minutes in the other room, too soft for her to make out what he was saying. The next ten minutes were filled with the sounds of him going from room to room, rifling through papers, muttering and swearing under his breath. Either he really was trying to help her, or he was putting on a good show of it. She suspected the latter.
If Pine could’ve spoken, she’d have told him the answer: tiger lilies. James had dumped her facing the portrait of Mara. In the background, on the far side of her workbench, was a vase stuffed full of them, a riot of color amid the metal components on her desk. She smiled at Pine, then bent back to her work, unmoved by Pine’s predicament. As she turned her head, a tiny mark behind her ear, near her hairline, was revealed.
James returned, his face tense. “I can’t find anything. I’m just going to list every single flower I can think of, and if none of those work, I’ll look up some more. We’ll keep at it until we figure it out.”
We. Like they were in this together. He was mocking her.
She stared hard at the picture, willing him to turn his damn head and look at it. Tiger lily. Tiger lily. TIGER LILY.
James was reeling off an impressive list of flowers—all wrong. “…hibiscus?” He waited. “No. Sunflower? No. Cherry blossom?”
Pine’s eyes were ready to burst from her head . Probably no less than he’d expect from a crazy synadroid.
“Tulip? No. Queen Anne’s Lace?” He walked over to the window and peered out, as though looking for inspiration. Finding none, he turned back to Pine, and the picture of Mara caught his eye. He stood before it, rubbing his hands over his face. “Come on, Mara, talk to me. What was your favorite flower?” Mara ignored him, too intent on her work.
Never mind my eyes. Her head was about to explode.
James started to turn away from the portrait when something grabbed his attention. Whether it was Pine screaming in her head or the incongruous flash of color in the picture, James froze and leaned forward, the start of a smile curving his lips.
“I think I’ve got it,” he said to Pine, the smugness in his voice almost infuriating enough to override her programming. He wiggled his fingers in front of her face, mimicking The Amazing Julian. “Tiger lily!”
Pine was free. Ironically, though, now that she could move, she didn’t know what to do with herself. Should she would make a run for it, despite James and the policeman? Or maybe she should just collapse. Scream? Something, anything to release the tempest swirling inside her.
James also seemed to be struggling with her freedom. He stood tautly, as though anticipating an attack. What did he think she would do?
“Thank you.” Petulance was the best she could manage right then. Too bad for him if he’d expected anything more.
James seemed to accept it, though, giving her a curt nod. The tension in his shoulders dissipated, and he leaned against the wall next to Mara.
He had helped her. It would’ve been so easy for him to let the police take her away or left her outside like a glorified lawn ornament. But he hadn’t, even though it had meant not only touching her, but touching her closely.
And she hadn’t hated it, though she’d wanted to. The yielding firmness of his body was so different to an android’s. Her skin was supposed to emulate his, but it wasn’t even close. His—
It doesn’t matter how his skin feels. He’s still horrible.
But he had felt just like she’d thought he would, the lines of his muscles cording smoothly just underneath the disfigured skin.
He was looking at her. Not just looking, staring. As though he’d read her mind and for a time saw her as something more than an unwelcome machine.
James cleared his throat. “Thank you for defending Joseph.”
“I—”
“You’re not regretting it now, are you?”
Was she? She hadn’t stopped to think about it; she’d seen the officer raising a hand to Joseph and she’d simply reacted. Was it because he was kind to her? Or was it because, on some deep level, she knew she was lucky to have him as her owner?
Then she caught herself, disgusted by her disloyalty. Am I so cheaply bought? Yes, Joseph wasn’t a monster, far from it, but he still owned her.
And James? Was he simply patting her, the way he would an obedient dog? Good girl, defending Master. Who’s a good girl? Pine’s a good girl! It rankled.
She gazed at James, at his sunlight-through-the-water eyes and the dark hair falling over them. He seemed genuinely thankful. It was so frustrating, not being able to read him. They had the same emotions, but humans seemed privy to nuances that she, having spent most of her time with other synadroids, had yet to fully grasp.
But it was obvious James cared about the older man. And he had remobilized her. And thought enough of her to thank her. For now, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it would preserve this fragile new beginning between them. “No, of course I’m not.”
“You know, if you really want to help Joseph, next time, do what you’re told.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
The delicate connection smashed like a wave against rock, obliterated. “Be a good little robot, is that what you mean?” she flared. She’d been an idiot to think his opinion of her might have changed.
“Look, you’re very lucky—” he began, echoing her earlier thoughts.
“Lucky? Lucky? We were created to clean up your mess. To do whatever you told us—fight, farm, die. Then we were given the sentience to understand our situation but denied the right to do anything about it.” How could he not see what a sick, cruel joke it was?
“And you think I should feel lucky?” Pine couldn’t stop; everything that had built inside her over the last few weeks rushed out in a torrent. “Why? Because we’re free? We’re not free, James. We’re just in a different prison.”
She advanced on him. A tiny thrill of pleasure shot through her at his shocked expression. He’d probably never had a synadroid shout at him before. “How can you be so blind? So arrogant? The only difference between us, James, is that my flesh is synthetic—that, and the fact I have to submit to things that would be considered illegal and inhuman for you.”
James stepped back, putting a chair between them. “But, Pine, you’ve got to understand our position. Without humans, you wouldn’t exist. And I agree, they shouldn’t have given you human emotions, that it is problematic—”
“It wasn’t the giving that was problematic. It’s your reaction. Once we started acting human, the emotions you gave us on a whim became inconvenient.”
He gave a brittle laugh. “It’s not about inconvenience. It’s about them being dangerous.”
“Dangerous? Did you not see what happened earlier? A single word and I was paralyzed. Does that seem dangerous to you?”
“Safe words don’t always work.” His fingers dug into the back of the chair.
“You mean the master can’t always make his puppet dance to his tune? How devastating to your human ego.”
“Stop.” The chair began to warp under his hands as his voice rose. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I—”
“Of course not. How could I? I couldn’t possibly fathom—” Her voice rang in her ears, her frustration reaching boiling point. She didn’t need to keep hearing about what she didn’t understand, especially from this man.
“Sentient androids kill people, Pine. They’re unstable and dangerous, and they never should’ve been created!” The top rail snapped, splintering in his fists. He looked down at the wood in his hands with an expression akin to surprise. The color rose in his cheeks and he dropped the fragments on the table.
It was like he’d thrown a bucket of ice water over her. Was that what he really thought? That synadroids were murderers? It couldn’t be true. But the expression on his face was controlled, not vindictive. “I’ve never—”
“Did Joseph tell you I used to be a soldier, out on the Perimeter?” James sank into the ruined chair and laid his hands on
the table. Blood spotted his palms, but he didn’t seem to notice.
From what she knew, human and synadroids had worked together, fighting the mutated wildlife, not each other. “Yes, but—”
“I was a lieutenant, head of one of the teams in charge of beating back the…the monstrosities out there.” He shuddered. “This was before they invented the Tar. All we had then were flamethrowers and strategy…and it just wasn’t enough. It was like trying to dam a flood with a feather. They just kept coming.”
He closed his eyes and leaned back, seemingly oblivious to the jagged timber at his back. “I had a mixed team of humans and synadroids. We would send the synadroids in first to clear out the worst of it then the rest of us would go in and clean up what we could. Everything was all right at first, but soon, some of the synadroids began…going berserk. It started with convulsions, their heads twisting to the side, their jaws biting.” He touched his own neck as he remembered. “At first, they only hurt themselves, but then one of them turned on us.” He opened his eyes and gazed at her.
“I was the only one who survived. I don’t blame you, Pine, for what you are, but after what happened, I just can’t trust you.”
What you are…can’t trust you. The words echoed painfully somehow, though she harbored the same doubts about him. “Was it only the synadroids who…lost control?” Pine asked quietly.
James seemed confused. “No, but—”
“Why send only the synadroids ahead, and not the humans? You threw them into the worst of it then wondered why they broke?” She bit her lip in irritation. Why couldn’t he understand? “They saw everything you saw, felt everything you did…why did you expect them to react differently?”
He didn’t answer, but she appeared to have his attention.
“When humans suffer emotional trauma that causes them to lash out, they get treatment, counselling. Synadroids get destroyed. How would you feel if your superiors killed another human for being traumatized? Especially during service for everyone in this damned province? Synadroids fight and serve just as you do, only they don’t get medals, or recognition, or even respect. They get terminated. And you say you can’t trust us?” The furious tide within her rose again.
“The country was nearly destroyed because all you saw was the end result. You created us to resolve it, but that wasn’t enough. You had to make us just like you. Then when we acted like you, you treated us like you do everything else—as a commodity.”
Fury shook her body, as much as any human’s. “You create life but have no concern for it. Can’t you see how heartless it is? And you want us to be grateful. I just—” Rage snatched the words from her mouth. “You’ll never understand.”
“You’re right, I won’t. Pine, you must understand. You might have human emotions, but you’re not alive. And you’ll never be human. That’s why we don’t treat you like one.” He pushed back from the table, his chair overturning and crashing to the floor.
“We don’t want to be human, only to control our own destinies. Would you want to live like this?”
The pressure overwhelmed her. She had to do something to vent or she would drown, and she was damned if she would give him the satisfaction. She stared calmly into his face and reached up with both hands, knotting her fists in her hair. With a sickening rip, she tore it off her head, and handed it to him, just like she’d daydreamed about doing her first day here.
“Is that better? Does that make you more comfortable, for me to look less like you? To know my place?” She was no longer herself, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. And truth be told, she didn’t want to. Maybe now she would finally get through to him, to show him how his disdain for her life was one cut too many.
James stood dumbstruck, holding her hair in his hands. Patches of synthetic scalp clung to it, and Pine ran her hands over her head, touching the exposed metal.
“Pine—”
“Not enough for you? I mean, we can’t have people mistaking me for human, can we?” She snatched a cut-crystal bowl off the coffee table and smashed it against the antique wood, gouging the surface as the bowl came apart. She gripped the largest shard and held it to her wrist.
“Pine, don’t.” James stayed where he was, but his face had drained of color, and Pine nearly dropped the glass. Maybe she had lost control and was behaving the very way he’d predicted, but she no longer cared. He had to understand how wretched she felt, how desperate.
She cut a ring into the skin around her wrist then peeled it back, up over her arm, baring her intricate synthetic flesh. “Is this better? I—” She took a step toward him, her teeth bared.
“Pearlvitae.”
Pine froze. The glass shard stopped, its cutting edge just biting into the skin of her other arm.
She’d thought she couldn’t feel any worse, but she was wrong. After everything she’d told him, how hard she’d tried to make him appreciate her situation, he’d betrayed her in the worst possible way.
It hurt. Much more than it should have. Why had she gotten so upset, needed him to understand so badly? How had she ever thought he would?
Because of Joseph. It had to be. There could be no other reason than because Joseph loved this man, and that made him part of her life for as long as she was here. And if a man as kind as Joseph could care about James, there must be some compassion there, some redeemable quality.
But there wasn’t. Shame flooded her. She’d known James for a couple of weeks…but she’d known his thoughts about her kind within the first hour. And still, she’d taken the bait, had let him turn her into a spectacle, all in the hopes he would just hear her. She was a fool.
But she’d never trust him again. What was more, the coward couldn’t even look at her. He was now on the couch, his head bowed. Probably laughing at her, enjoying his power over her, or at the very least, feeling smug that she’d proven him right.
She wanted to hate him. She did hate him.
Then why do I still care what he thinks?
The front door opened, and Joseph came through it with a smile, his voice cheerful. “Hey, James, did you make a call to The Blue Fairy, by any chance? Because as soon as they pulled up my information, the license was there. You should’ve seen the look on that police officer’s face—”
He saw Pine first, frozen, the flesh of her skull and arms in tatters. Then James, perched on the couch, his head in his hands, Pine’s hair on his lap.
“What the hell is going on here?” His voice broke. “James, what have you done? Tiger lily!”
Released, Pine sank to her knees, done. She crawled over to the damaged coffee table and leaned her back against it, too wrung out to do anything else.
Joseph eased himself down beside her. “Pine, are you okay?”
She wouldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to see herself reflected in his eyes. “Yes.”
When Joseph next spoke to James, his voice was flat and cold, every word loaded. “I’ll ask you once more, James, what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything but try to stop her. She did that to herself. This is the sort of thing I was worried about. She’s not—”
“Is that true, Pine?” He took her hair from James, rubbing a piece of her scalp between his fingers.
Pine raised her head and looked at James, taking in the strain on his face. If this had been a victory for him, he didn’t show it. He didn’t seem to be taking any pleasure in her misery. Instead, he looked as distressed as she felt. Pine waited for the flush of her victory to come, but all that followed was a dull ache in her chest.
“It’s true,” she whispered.
James closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest.
“James, I think you need to go.” Joseph laid Pine’s hair on the coffee table.
“But, Joseph— I didn’t—”
“I know. But I still want you to go. Please. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” He walked with James to the door.
“I’m sorry, Joseph. I never wanted—”
&
nbsp; “It’ll be okay.” Joseph patted him kindly on the shoulder. “Just give us some time.”
Only when the door had closed behind him did Pine allow herself to lie on her side, her knees curled up to her chest and her shoulders shaking with tears that would never come.
James walked the short path to the gate in a daze. He was still shaken by what had happened. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what had happened. He’d never been so confused about anything in his entire life.
He kept replaying the exchange in his head. How had it gone so wrong, so quickly? Was life for the synadroids really as dire as she claimed? Did they really feel the limitations of their existence so keenly? It was an uncomfortable revelation. James had always thought of himself as empathetic, as understanding his world. Could he really be as blind as she claimed?
She’d said the only difference between them was their physical bodies. But was it true? Were her feelings, programmed as they were, as real as his? If so, there was far more truth in what she’d said than he’d like to admit. He knew that the sentient androids had the full range of human emotion, but he’d never trulybelieved. He’d never actually thought of them feeling their feelings, as stupid as that sounded.
Confusion made him lightheaded as he tried to reconcile what he knew with what Pine had told him. If she’d behaved that way—mutilating herself—before their fight, it would’ve been a grim confirmation of everything he’d warned Joseph about. But after what she’d said… Her anguish had been so real, so human, it had been painful to watch. At least, until she’d exposed the raw metal of her skull—an appalling reminder of what she was. A machine.
He’d almost been taken in. He was going to have to be careful, or he would become as duped as Joseph, fooled by the alluring tragedy of her.
But he couldn’t avoid her. Joseph was too important in James’s life for him to abandon his mentor. And despite what she’d said, he still wasn’t ready to trust her. If anything, now that he knew how she felt about her life, he trusted her even less.
Nothing James said would sway Joseph, but if he wanted to stay where he could protect the older man, he would have to make amends, or at least pretend he was. But how?