Page 26 of Nolan
“By yourself?” I ask. “What about Humanity First? Or TerraPura? Don’t they jump androids walking alone?”
“If they know I’m an android, sure. Maybe. Nowadays I don’t often go out at night, though.”
The thought of him being beaten up in the street by angry, jobless people frightens me.
Nolan being turned into a mindless drone for a cult, twisted into a weapon? That’s even worse. All those worries from earlier rear their ugly heads.
“Then come back to the shop with me. I’ll drop you off around the corner.”
The walk back flies by. Time moves way too fast when we’re talking and laughing and discussing the state of the world. Nolan is so easy to talk to. Something about him grounds me in a way I’ve never felt or appreciated before. Like I have a reason to return from all my daydreaming of what I want from my life, bringing me back down to earth in the best way.
I drive him to the corner where he can get out and head back to the station without being seen with me. It’s risky, but we can’t help ourselves. We share just one more stolen moment. He cups my face with his hands and tantalizes me with another slow, deep, smoldering kiss, one that warms me all the way to my toes.
When he pulls away, I’m moments from entering another dimension. Spellbound by his touch and the feel of his lips against mine, it’s a wonder I can operate a vehicle. I couldn’t resist him if I wanted to. He says good night, and then I watch him walk away, admiring his body, the confidence in his stride, his unapologetic demeanor. He looks over his shoulder, the backlights of his irises flaring as he smiles at me, and then I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m in trouble.
His lips on mine. That’s all it took. One kiss was dangerous. Several, and he’s ruined me.
And if I have anything to do with it, he’ll ruin me some more.
4
Nolan
One kiss, and my programming, my circuitry, everything within me, has changed forever.
I’ve kissed other women before. It never struck me as anything remarkably special or earth-shattering, as most humans might call it. It was an initiation, like a program with an administration bypass. All research points to the simple fact that many women love kissing. It’s the start to a process, the simple beginning to a more pleasurable objective.
With Mia, it’s different, and as I walk back to the station alone after watching her drive away, I’m lost in my processing, my research. With her, I didn’t want to stop. I could kiss her pretty pink lips until they’re rosy and bruised, and it wouldn’t be enough. I more than enjoyed it. I want to do it again. And again.
But it wasn’t just the kiss. It’s her flirtatious banter while texting me. The way her voice sounds when she talks, so light, feminine, and playful. I replay it in my head as I walk through the station door.
She’s a human masterpiece. As much as I long to see her again, I recognize something different about my attraction to her. She revs me up, like my battery thinks it’s the diesel engine of an aircraft carrier.
This isn’t normal, is it? This train of thought is so new, different.
She’s altered something inside me. My gratification drive, perhaps, is a part of it, wholly rewired to be completely centered on her. With one kiss, she’s claimed me. I didn’t know I could be claimed like this.
If Mia’s not happy, I’m not sure I could ever be.
I hear the Weekenders talking in the common room, but I prefer to avoid questions for now. I make my way to the second floor, to the old barracks area where the pole is, the place that’s been my sanctuary when I want quiet or space. As I shut the door to my room, a message comes across my screen.
Hi, it’s me. I got home safe, it reads from Mia.
Electricity shimmers up my circuitry. Just a simple text and my body responds, prickling with little shocks of delight. She jump-starts my systems. My processes are all whirring. I’m greedy for her. I need more of her. I decide to take a risk.
Good. Can I see your face?
Within moments, there she is, her hair down, wearing the same clothes she wore on our walk tonight. I can admire her in high definition. Everything slows when I look at her, like I’m in some kind of suspension.
Apollo says Jessica bewitched him on sight. Is this what he meant?
I loved spending time with you tonight. Even if it was at work. It was wonderful. No, more than that. Words aren’t enough, Mia texts.
She loved spending time with me? An internal diagnostic scan reads a slight temperature spike in my biocomponents. My cooling cycle initiates automatically. I stand a little straighter, unable to stop a smile from spreading across my face.
So did I, I send, gratification drive surging. I’ve never really thought about the word love in this context. Humans say they love a lot of things. Like coffee, or rainy days, or kittens. Maybe it’s not that serious, but hearing that word from her gives me such a sense of completion and accomplishment, I’m not sure what to do with myself. I’m so full of energy. I pace.
But my gratification drive is moving faster than I could have ever anticipated. I try to cool my jets. I shouldn’t read into this too much. She said she loved spending time with me—that doesn’t mean she loves me.
