Page 26 of Codi
I squeeze her hand in return. “It’s going to be all right, Denise.”
The march is no longer in our sights, but we can still hear them. I quickly check traffic reports and newscasts. “It might be wise to leave your car here for the night and return to it in the morning,” I offer tentatively. Any chance we might have of navigating the narrow downtown streets seems minimal, at best. “We could take the subway and arrive home before curfew.”
“Are you sure?” Denise is hesitant. “If there are any protestors on the subway... ” She gazes at me in consternation. “Codi, you can change your eye color?”
“I can,” I reply. “Hair color too.” My brown hair fades into golden blond like hers, and I smile. “See?”
Despite everything that has happened today, Denise manages to give me a beautiful smile in return. “That’s a neat trick. We might be able to pull this off, then, and stay out of trouble.” She hasn’t let go of my hand, and I brush my thumb lightly over her fingers. “You’ll change it back when we get home?”
“I can. You don’t prefer me this way? More human?”
“I prefer you just the way you are.” Her words send thrills along my sensors. Were we not in haste, I would allow myself more time to soak her words in and enjoy them thoroughly. “I don’t know the city very well.”
“You don’t need to. Maps, directions—they’re all up here.” Tapping my temple, I take the lead and guide her along with me, following the pathway to the city streets and making certain we avoid congested areas where the protestors are gathering.
“I’m tired, Codi,” Lucas whimpers against my shoulder.
“I know.” My words are the only comfort I can give right now. “We’ll be home soon.”
Denise squeezes my hand again, and I weave our fingers together, my determination renewed. I will bring them safely home. I must.
After we walk several blocks, we finally find a subway stairwell and descend below the streets of New Carnegie. Denise purchases one-time passes for us, and we wait at the terminal for the subway to arrive. High definition projectors are mounted on the walls, playing holographic advertisements to distract passengers from boredom while they wait. Time passes slowly. Denise often glances over her shoulder toward the stairwell.
She is uneasy.
When the sleek, silver-white subway slides to a graceful halt, we quickly board. There aren’t very many people around us. Most are likely either taking part in the march or are cautiously staying home. The few people braving travel this evening look just as wary as we do and keep their distance.
As we sit and wait for the subway to carry us closer to home, Denise browses current news on her phone. With a small sigh of frustration and disbelief, she stares at a livestream of police being dispatched to the protest location, standing in between protestors and what appear to be counter-protestors and strikers.
“This city is going to hell, I swear,” Denise mutters. “Everybody’s losing their minds, it’s insane. I haven’t even lived here a full year, and I wonder if I made the right choice.”
I don’t know what words to say or what comfort to provide her. My processors work hard, familiarizing myself with human history—marches, protests, revolutions, wars—and yet I still don’t have any answers to give her. There is no singular formula to understanding human behavior that I can pinpoint to predict what might happen.
Denise leans into my side as words of wisdom continue to elude me. I lift my arm and wrap it around her, pulling her tightly to me. Lucas rests on my lap, dozing in and out of exhausted sleep.
“You made a choice for your son. You couldn’t be incorrect in doing so. Not to my knowledge.”
“Yeah?” Denise asks with a small scoff, resting her head on my shoulder. Being in such close proximity to her fills me with warmth. “Why’s that?”
“If you hadn’t come to New Carnegie,” I speak softly, not wishing to disturb the sleeping child on my chest. “I likely wouldn’t be here now. I’d be scrap metal or trapped in a garbage dump somewhere.”
She gazes at me and her mouth slightly parts, but no words come through. She seems speechless, or tired, or maybe both. Fighting a growing desire to kiss her, I keep talking, my fingers lightly brushing over her jacket sleeve. “You saved me, Denise. You coming to New Carnegie could never be a mistake. Not to me.”
I look down at Lucas and scan his biometrics, confirming he’s at rest and not under any duress. Soft lips brush against my cheek, taking me off guard. Denise leans back and rests her head on me again.
“Oh, Codi.” She sighs, nuzzling her cheek against my shoulder. “I wish I’d found you a long time ago.”
* * *
It’s well past ten o’clock when we arrive at Denise’s front door. She fumbles with the keys and unlocks it, letting us through. Without a word, I carry Lucas into his bedroom, carefully turn back his blankets, and rest him on the bed.
The movement wakes him, and he stares up at me sleepily while I tuck him in. “Can I have a bedtime story?”
His request gives me pause. “Aren’t you a little tired for a story?”
Lucas shakes his head, but his drooping eyes say differently. Still, it’s hard to tell him no. Especially after today. “Very well. A short one, then.” I rest my hands on my knees, still awkward and unsure when it comes to such things. “Once upon a time, there was a little... ” I scan his toys. “Dinosaur.”
“What kind of dinosaur?” Lucas asks in a quiet voice.
