Stella’s words clouded his mind.We need to watch them closely.He roughly pushed up the sleeves of his sweater even higher.
“Can you move please?” She fidgeted in front of him.
Please. He stepped to the side.
“Thanks.” She resumed her pushing, bending comically over her belly and grunting, using her legs to straighten a box along the wall.
Atlas’s shoulders stiffened.This female human wants to live in a warehouse.Instead of the perfect facilities that were prepared for human occupation. He crossed his arms, sensors misfiring at the ridiculous sight of a heavily pregnant Anna pushing boxes.
She stretched herself up, wiping her brow. Her stomach protruded from her thin frame unnaturally. She pointed to the space underneath the window that was now clear. “See?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I see something, alright.”
“Well. Yeah.” She forced a smile, turning back to the boxes. “I can make this work.”
His hands clenched at his sides, watching her struggle as she continued pushing the boxes.He cleared his throat. “Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Help me understand. Our facilities are perfect for humans.”
“I already told you.” Anna didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re so smart, Atlas, but we’re going in circles. Can’t you see that I don’t fit in there?”
“You should give it more time.”
“That was enough time.” She put her hand on her hips, taking a deep breath. “I’ve had enough of people deciding things for me.”
A nerve impulse jumped in his cheek at watching her breathe heavily from pushing the box. “You’re not like any human I’ve ever met before.”
“Good. All the ones you’ve known before suck.” Anna sat back on one of the boxes for a second. She held a hand to her stomach, grimacing.
Atlas took a step toward her. “Rest, Anna.”
She shook her head. “I’ll get some more done. Then I will rest. I’ve almost got a space clear for tonight.”
He watched as she got up again, far too soon to have recovered, to push another box.
His head dropped forward in defeat.I can’t force her to sit, can I?His programming tugged at him, watching the strainin her body. His medical side threw him alerts. Eight months pregnant.
She moved around him as if he was one of the boxes himself. She knocked her knee on one. “Shit, ow.”
“. . . Anna?”
“I’m fine. Just clumsy in this gravity still.”
Everything in him . . .He just. . . “No. No!” Finally, he rushed forward, hands outstretched. “Dammit, I’ll move them if you sit still for a minute. Where do you want the boxes?”
“I thought in the barn,” Anna said. “There’s extra space there not being used. I want to fix this area up like my room back home. I need this little area clear enough to sleep for tonight before I get permission to do any more. Maybe they’ll see I’m serious if I can make it look better.”
“Yes, you’re serious.”
She got up, wiping her brow. “So serious.”
Something in him snapped. “Fine. I’ll push, but in return you sit for a minute.”
“Really? But everything would go faster with both of us.”
“Anna.”
