Page 34 of Ezra
Easy, girl. Settle down.Time to think of something else and ignore the sudden spike of warmth traveling to my core between my legs.
I distract myself somewhat by reminiscing about my childhood as I wash my hair. I was the girl wistful and wishing for adventure beyond paper swords in my backyard, wondering why knights in shining armor couldn’t exist anymore. In high school, while my friends were chasing football jerseys and binge-drinking beer, I was at home reading Tolkien wishing for a king of my own, relating hard to a loyal shield-maiden being passed over for the beautiful elven princess. Talk about a bummer. I don’t think I voluntarily picked up another fantasy book after that one, losing myself in my love of ancient history instead.
College wasn’t any better. It wasn’t like there was a slew of bad guys around. Some of them were just fine. I watched as my friends found their own heroes and cheered them on. But me? I couldn’t ever settle for fine. I still can’t. Not if I want to eventually go abroad, study cave paintings, oversee new digs anddiscoveries, get my hands dirty. There aren’t a lot of guys on dating apps who know what paleoanthropology is, let alone any who’d want to follow me around from place to place, elbow-deep in ancient ruins or burial sites.
If there was a man, a brave man, who respected me, wanted to see the world with me, and could keep up with me? I’d never let him go. But such a man doesn’t exist for me. I can’t be tied down here. I won’t let it happen.
I shut the water off and step out of the shower. I’m greeted by the cool draft let in by the open—broken—door and dry myself off, then get dressed. The little spider bionic is still on the counter, watching me. Its eyes have turned from a glowing white to soft blue.
Maybe that means it’s happy?Blue is a color that usually implies calm. I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask Ezra if he knows.
I should probably give it a name. I try to think of spiders from literature. There’s Shelob fromTheLord of the Rings, but she was evil and frightening. Maybe not that.Charlotte’s Web?
“Charlie,” I say after a moment. “Mind if I call you that? Charlie?”
The little metal spider makes a series of soft whistles. Including one final one that sounds like a garbled catcall.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I hold out my hand. “Come on.”
Charlie hops onto my palm and skitters up my arm. Two of its eight arms curl over my shoulder. I’m amazed at how light it feels for being so large. It must be made of a special kind of alloy.
“No tickling. I can’t be held responsible for anything that happens to you if you tickle me. Got it?”
Charlie beeps and settles in place.
“Good.” I’m literally talking to a mechanical spider like it can understand me. Now, that’s something I never imagined I’d do. I think about how far BioNex has come—and fallen. What started with two friends, Schroeder and my dad, and their obsessionwith robots brought the BioNex vision to life, once upon a time. Maybe they felt a need to create good people we don’t see anymore because the heroes they grew up with didn’t make headlines, the people who do things because it’s the right thing to do. Altruistic, kind, courageous, selfless.
Androids were made to make our lives easier, but they ended up becoming better versions of us. Us without hatred, resentment, anger, betrayal, deceit, violence. Except they’re machines. That’s the problem. We can’t just manufacturebetter human beings because we refuse to better ourselves. It’s not the way it works.
As impressive as Ezra is, someone in a lab created him that way. Ihaveto remember that. No matter how human he looks, he can’t have a heart or a soul. He’s metal and plastic and synthetic. That’s what sets him apart. Puts him beneath me, Dad would say.
Except now, I’m second-guessing all of that. Unsettled by this deep thinking, I push my thoughts aside, along with something I’m currently denying with every fiber of my being.
Ezra is hellishly attractive.
And that’s a thought I definitely shouldn’t be having, above all the rest.
Dosed with a potent mixture of guilt that comes along with admitting that to myself, even a little bit, I try to think of other reasons why I should dislike him, mistrust him, as I brush through my damp hair and take the time to toss it through my fingers and style it.
Surely, Kat, you can think of something. Beyond the whole being-a-robot thing, which is definitely reason number one. I definitely care about that. Just like my father does, I do.
Don’t I?
Perhaps some of this confusion is stress-induced. I can’t pretend I haven’t been through horrible things these past few days. Maybe I’m just breaking.
No. Come on, Kat. Keep thinking.
Ezra is direct. Too serious. And far too complicated to be only a computer.Who decided androids could deliver witty comebacks?Wait, where was I? Oh, right. Complicated. Wait, I said that. Ugh, why can’t I think straight about this guy? He’s not a real human being.
“Not real, not real, not real,” I repeat under my breath as I finally step out of the bathroom.
“What’s not real?”
I squeak and whirl around. Ezra’s standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.
“Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Didn’t want you to fall victim to any more spider-related incidents in there.” He straightens and walks past me. “It appears you’ve made a friend. And given it a name.”
