. . . And one cat.
The cat looked up balefully from the carrier. He leaned over, examining him. “You are also from Earth’s wilds. But there’s no discussion about what to do with you.”
Tatertot blinked up at him, slowly.
Atlas blinked back. “I know. They aren’t bad. They took good care of you.”
One of Tilly’s pictures had a cat, even. Atlas pinned the one she drew, thanking him for the ultrasound, on his wall. The drawing had a stick figure of Anna, with an impossibly large belly. Gifts given freely should be treasured, especially from a child.
He reached down to touch Tatertot’s fur, then unzipped the carrier. “I think a part of me is afraid.”
The cat, like the plants, didn’t respond. He clarified. “Not how Stella is afraid, but afraid to care again. Because detachment is easier.”
He stroked the soft fur. “Sometimes, I don’t want to be part of the collective at all. The way they make decisions. . .” Tatertot nudged into his hand. He continued petting. “I’m worried they’ll make the wrong decisions. And I’m a part of that then, even if I protest.”
He was only one android, and they ruled by majority of opinion. He was not designed for persuasion the way Stella was.Instead, he just had his own hands and conscience. And if they chose wrong? For the human that baked cumin cookies and wanted to swim? And left him a thank you note with brownies? Atlas paused, feeling the cat purr under his hand.What willI do if they decide to push ahead with something immoral?
His fingers stilled in Tatertot’s soft fur.Well . . . what can I do?
Even in his own mind, he was disgusted. He knew he was being a coward by avoiding them, by thinking if he didn’t get involved, then he wouldn’t have to care either way.
But he did care.
Dammit all, he did.
Atlas removed his hand from Tatertot’s carrier and zipped everything back up. “Time to stop avoiding this. I at least have to try. I can give them more data than Stella. And after that reception earlier . . .”He mumbled to himself, “I am already involved.” He refreshed his sensory cortex, cooling down his processors so he was no longer running hot. Then he connected directly to the communal mind, pushing up his sweater sleeves.
Immediately he recoiled, almost pushing away from the strong emotions on the line. It felt like lightning, or the rush of charging too fast. The rush of attention when they felt him active forced him to take a step back.
The communal voices hissed over his neural mind, landing with a heaviness that he wanted to ignore.
“They seem so foreign.”
“Their reactions.”
“Why did they spend so much time in the sun doing nothing?”
“They never saw television programs before?”
“That pregnant one wants to work? Is she joking? What could she even help with?”
And then when they felt him, a tsunami. “Atlas. Atlas. Atlas. What does your data say about these new humans?”
Atlas rubbed his head, collecting his thoughts.“These humans are different from the others. I do not view them as a threat.”
In unison, several asked,“Why?”
Videos. Direct evidence. That was what he could offer. He played a clipfor them from the ship med bay, where cameras did not extend, and where the majority of their interactions had happened. The ultrasound gathering, where Paul’s name was mentioned and how none of them wanted the baby to be like him.
He showed them Anna making him brownies and, from his perspective, not any of the cameras circling overhead, the sincerity in the note she’d left saying thank you.
The thank you note, he showed over and over. Different angles.“Do you see? She is different. I view them as not one of the humans of the past, but more as their own species. We know from raising humans here that they can be trained to be harmless. No matter who the parents are.”
He provided multiple angles now of all three of them saying thank you while on the ship. Then one of Anna compulsively cleaning the kitchen, with a rag around her bloody hand.
All of the androids had seen those moments, but not woven together to make a meaningful pattern, spliced in a tight collage like Atlas presented. He showed how eager Anna was to help, and even included her offhand comment about taking a shift at the factory. The dancing in the lake earlier, Nora and Simon spinning, smiling.
The only thing he didn’t share was Anna’s smiles to him. Especially the moment in the lake on Mars, her pressing the rose into his chest. That memory stayed private.
