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It had taken no more than a few minutes for Haiden and Ayma to gain entry into one of the larger buildings. The small pack of tools Ayma had confiscated from the Humbike prior to secreting the vehicle from sight allowed for a wide range of application. Indeed, Haiden seemed regularly amazed at what one could accomplish with no geas and a hand driver or auto-torque spanner. Although the sound of heavy construction could be heard far in the distance, it seemed as if they were indeed alone in the city.
This was not entirely true, of course. Haiden recalled from his fractured past that Listig was intended as a kind of a stopover resort city for those traveling to the outlying regions. A hub of sorts, the city—much smaller than Mission—was a central connection for many of the major thruways for inter-city transportation. As such, a good deal of the empty buildings would be used as temporary living quarters, catering to the human travelers for their brief stay in the crater city. What Haiden also recalled was that, quite unlike some of the larger cities, most of the android complement in Mission was relegated almost entirely to the inner city. As such, the two androids were unseen as they made their way into one of the glass buildings and found their way deep into its bowels as if they were trying to get as far away from the reflective exterior as possible.
Inside the lightless interior, Haiden and Ayma sat hunched over a small stove under the light of a hanging glowlamp, each leaning towards the small stove as if seeking absolution in its blue flames. Water and a dried, processed meat served as their evening meal. Haiden chewed his slowly, thoroughly, as if the desiccated tissue somehow represented the tougher gristle of his thoughts.
It was Ayma who broke the silence, however. For the first time in a long time, she looked directly at Haiden, catching his eyes with the controlled intensity of her gaze. The dancing blue flames from the stove cast wraithlike shadows across her features, her face a mask of determination as she faced Haiden like a combatant.
“You said you needed time—time to figure things out. I…I understand that. I respect that.” Her gaze wavered, as if she desired to look away, but Ayma set her chin firmly against that impulse. Steeling her resolve, she continued to hold him captive with her eyes. “But I need to understand it myself. I thought…I felt I needed to be alone, but—well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re each alone for the first time.”
Haiden nodded faintly, unable to eschew her need for a response.
“So what do we do?” Ayma asked simply, almost calmly. “What are you planning?”
Planning—Haiden examined the word as if it was a viper. He had been so busy escaping, surviving, that he hadn’t really established what his ultimate goal was. Still, he thought to himself, a plan might not be a bad idea.
“First, we need to stay out of sight for a bit, try not to affect the day-to-day operations of Listig or do anything that might draw attention to us.” He looked around at their surroundings, gestured vaguely at the walls. “This will serve as a base camp for now. We’ll have to scavenge for supplies, and for food and water once ours runs out, but for now we hide.”
Ayma climbed to her feet. For an instant Haiden thought she intended to flee, but she was just stretching her legs. Following her example, he stood up and stretched out his own cramped muscles.
“In the morning I’ll do a quick survey of the surrounding buildings, see which is most likely to have some kind of supply storage. It’d be nice if we could figure out a way to tap into someone else’s allotment, but we may have to pose as designates and steal. It will draw attention, but hopefully the local security thinks it’s only a training exercise.”
Haiden’s companion looked at him with a considering gaze, as if weighing his words against some inner checklist. Finally she nodded, and even smiled.
Walking back towards the stove, Ayma sat down cross-legged and looked up at him. “Sit down. I want to try to figure out how you removed my geas. If we can find out how it happened, we might be able to reverse it—go back.”
Haiden looked at her, at the faint look of hope in her eyes. Perhaps she could go back, be reintegrated, but he was branded a murderer and a rogue. His only fate would be one of reprocessing, dissolved back into so much biomatter. But if he could fix Ayma, she might be able to rejoin the rest. He sat down beside her, and started to answer her questions as best he could.
She began her queries slowly, almost carefully, as if aware of the sensitive nature of the inquiry. Soon, however, she was questioning him more stridently, even aggressively. He was asked to relate his own awakening several times, to describe in lurid detail the mujrer of Watch Leader Amon. Ayma even asked about his own thoughts after the geas, about any images he saw, and about his attack on her.
As the questions wore on, Haiden became increasingly distant and uncomfortable. She could go back—but he never could, and right now she was all he had. She had to know this, she had to know that he could never return. It angered him that she would even consider resuming an existence under geas captivity, even if it were possible, knowing that it would mean he would be alone again.
She sensed his discomfort and eventually ceased the interrogation.
The pair was quiet for several minutes before Ayma spoke again. Sitting in front of the stove, Ayma held her hands clenched between her knees. They were shaking slightly. “You know what we have to do, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer, but flicked his eyes in her direction. In his mind he knew what she was going to say—go back—but he was more afraid of what his own reaction would be. Could he afford to let her go back without him, reveal everything? Could he bring himself to kill her, dispose of his threat? Either way he would again be singular, isolated from everything.
“We can’t run forever, Max.”
The flame from the stove danced in the light, casting strange shadows of the two of them against the walls.
She continued, “We have to liberate more androids. We have to make more of them like us. Then we can survive… we can fight. But now, we just… just look at us.”
She paused, clearly waiting for him to say something.
Haiden was stunned. His mouth open as if to offer supplication, he could not interject anything coherent into the silent wake of her statement. We have to liberate…
“How?” he almost croaked. It was not the question he longed to ask; he wanted to laugh and cry, demand to know what he had said to make her come to this conclusion, but his monosyllabic query was at that moment the sum of all his capacity for speech.
“We have to understand how you liberated me.”
Copyright © 2004-2005 Jay and David Steele. All rights reserved.
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