She talks so casually with Simon.Atlas’s cheek twitched. He gritted his teeth.Why?Logically, he knew there was nothing but friendship between them. Simon saved her from Paul, after all, but that smile Anna gave him was so unguarded. So free. Quickly, he grew frustrated with himself.I don’t see hersmile enough like that.
The talk Simon and Anna had with each other, about freedom and wanting to explore, was broadcasted and closed captioned, shared back to the entire base. Every word, monitored. Even the donut frosting exchange Anna had with Simon.No wonder Anna feels like she needs to get away.Especially after what she shared last night about how unsettled the neurochip talk made her.
He took a deep breath as he watched Anna’s backside amble out of sight. Would they come back tonight? They had to. Right? There wasn’t anything out there for them. Unless they went . . . camping? Atlas frowned. Did humans from Earth now do that? They used to do that many years ago for fun.
Anna has to return.His feet shifted restlessly on the floor, unable to stand still.She is now almost eight months pregnant. That baby can come at any time now. And she was nauseous last night.Besides, their cat was here. They wouldn’t leave Tatertot, right?
Zero wirelessly requested to connect. “Well. There they go. Being unpredictable.”
Atlas answered back, just to him, “Yes.”
“Was everything so bad they needed to leave?”
“Uncomfortable for sure. It is those humans, Ria and Pearl, who did their best to make their feelings known.”
“Yes.”Zero’s voice dropped.“All that monitoring talk didn’t help.”
Atlas winced. Even though he almost understood, he still felt an echo of . . . rejection? Anna clearly hated it here. Where did he fit in, then? Did he misread her heartbeat reactions?
“Forget the other humans.”Zero chuckled.“Thirteen was right, these three are great.”
“They are.”Atlas grudgingly smiled. “How’s the communal mind handling it?”
“You tell me. Join in?”
After a moment’s hesitation he accepted Zero’s invitation, letting the general impressions of the androids’ communal mind wash over him. He gripped the counter while focusing. There was such a wide range of mixed feelings on the shared mainframe. Atlas felt them and chafed at their chatter.
Stella was loud, front and center.“Look! They were welcomed. They were given rooms. And food. And acceptance. We played music for them. Why are they leaving?”
“Why are you so quick to judge?”Zero interjected.“Maybe they are scared. Maybe they need to see where they are, like the tiger mapping out its boundaries. It’s hard adapting.”
Atlas winced. They weren’t mindless animals. He broke in,“Maybe they want to be their own people. They are used to taking care of themselves.”
Silence fell over the lines. The uncertainty was palpable. What would any humans do to Mars if they weren’t strictly monitored? Mars was the android sanctuary. Their escape from human wars and madness.
Then a thread of compassion came over the shared connection.
The ones that were in the hall and heard Anna’s pounding heartbeat up close replayed the moment. They showed how all the humans ate the food in a subdued manner. Anna especially had avoided eye contact. They also showed how she looked unwell, even from a distance.
Underneath it all there was a growing fascination. A few jokingly referred to them as their experiment. Their humanity 2.0.
Cameras did not extend beyond their main facility, where the complement of around two hundred androids still worked and functioned. There wasn’t a live feed of every inch of Mars continuously, but there were snapshots of enough to know if anything was amiss.
And Stella had one of the drones following Simon and Nora to watch their progress. They were heading toward the farmland, where they grew grain and raised livestock.
Atlas stiffened, listening to the androids commenting on their progress.We are watching Anna and the others like thosereality television shows.He furiously turned away.I don’t need to watch.He kept the thread open in case there was an emergency, but set it to low priority in his processors.
Instead, he set about fixing the plants that he had carried off the ship. His cherry tree was now back in his office, small buds forming where soon there would be flowers, followed by tiny cherries. After readjusting its light, he forced himself to focus and began to trim the others.
His fingers slipped as he cut the wrong tendril on a vine. “Shit! Sorry. Sorry.” He put the clippers down hard on his workbench in frustration. "I can’t focus."
The communal hum broke back through to him. Only this time it was laced with concern, which made Atlas bang his knee in alarm as he went to the feeds. Then he saw Anna sitting, stretched back on a rock, clearly in need of a break. The first relief he’d felt in the past hour came over him as he scanned her body, taking a shaky breath as he did.
There was a grimace on her face that Atlas mirrored while observing. She had a sheen of sweat on her forehead, clearly visible over the feed. He began to breathe in sync with her deep breaths.Oh,Anna.
“Look at her.” He spoke down to the plant whose stem he cut too close. “She’s pushing herself too hard.”
Atlas pushed the plant away, his entire body stiff. He put away his tools, lining them up methodically before putting the pot with the dangling green tendrils back on a windowsill. Her discomfort was evident enough that a few androids expressed concern over the pregnancy. Especially when she stumbled in the lowered gravity. She was a walking hazard. A walking landmine. Every step was a disaster waiting to happen. And this time, no one was right next to her to help.
