Page 73 of Nolan
“Oh! Got it.”
At dinner time, we all sit down and get ready to enjoy Jessica’s cooking. While Laolao’s food is unmatched, she’s out today, having fun at a ceramics class and enjoying time at the park with her friends. When the door opens, all of us stop. The briefest glimmer of hope catches me by the chest, wishing it could be somehow be him.
But I’m all the more surprised—and still relieved—when Apollo walks in carrying two duffel bags and tosses them to the ground with a thud, his eyes on Jessica.
She’s instantly on her feet. I watch with a teary smile as she runs to him, and he catches her. They exchange a kiss just before the kids run to him too. I wish it could be me and Nolan, and that hurtful longing that’s always in the back of my mind, sometimes sharp, sometimes dull, returns.
“You didn’t call me!” Jessica scolds.
“Wanted to surprise you,” Apollo replies. I’m the last to go hug him, mostly just to give him some space to hug and kiss his kids. “Mia.” He embraces me tightly. “How’s Nolan today?”
“As good as he can be.” I don’t know how else to answer that question. He’s not here with us when he should be. And I can’t rest until he is.
“She’s been going to see him every day,” Jessica remarks.
“You don’t have to go there every day, you know,” Apollo offers with some concern. “Don’t torture yourself.”
“No, I need to. If the situation was reversed, and I was in a hospital bed somewhere, Nolan would be with me every day,” I answer. “I know he would.” And part of me hopes that somehow, he can sense me when I’m at that lab. It makes no sense, of course. He’s not asleep or in a coma. Wishing won’t make it true. “It’s the only thing that feels right.”
After we shovel dinner into our mouths, we go outside to the backyard, enjoying the autumn weather. Apollo chases his kids around. I sit near Jessica on a few patio chairs.
“When will we tell him?” I ask. “If we wait anymore I might actually internally combust.”
“Not yet,” Jessica says with a little wink. She leans back and sighs. “Not until Nolan comes home.”
Nobody can look at us and say bionics are merely a machine and nothing else. All our lives are on hold until Nolan returns. If he can truly return.
And if it can’t happen, if Nolan being able to remember me is just a desperate lie I’ve been telling myself this entire time, I don’t know what I’ll do.
I wake the next morning to a message from Dr. Taylor.
He’s awake. Hurry over.
I fall out of bed, scrambling for any clothes within my reach. “Apollo!” I shout. “Apollo, he’s up!”
Apollo flings open his bedroom door in nothing but his boxers, looking around in groggy confusion. “He’s up?”
“Nolan’s awake.”
It finally registers. He rushes to get dressed, nearly tripping and falling over himself. I pull socks over my feet and practically slide down the stairs to grab my brother’s car keys. I’m halfway to the garage before he’s caught up to me, snatching them out of my hands.
“Don’t even think about it.”
We jump into the car. Once we’re on the highway, Apollo floors it. Even though it’s barely seven a.m., I’m wide awake, peering at the New Carnegie skyline bathed in the colors of dawn.
I steel myself for what I know is coming. Apollo told me, and Dr. Taylor and Victor all but confirmed it. There’s nothing on playback of me in Nolan’s memory banks that were last uploaded onto the servers. Not even when we first met at Cyber Street. Apollo said it was like someone spliced the footage, and it cut off the moment he went through the door.
I’m touched he protected memories of me so ardently—but God, I wish he hadn’t felt the need to. I wish he could’ve just had the promise of privacy. If he didn’t have handlers, if he wasn’t owned by the fire department, this wouldn’t be a problem in the first place.
A foolish part of me still hopes, remembering what he told me about gratification drives and how androids always gravitate to one person in particular without fail. It doesn’t matter to me. Whatever happens, I want to be there for him. I want to support him.
But what if he doesn’t want me now that he can’t remember me?
It doesn’t matter. He’s awake. That’s all that counts.
When we get there, I use my guest pass, but my brother has to sign in. They don’t allow him entry until Dr. Taylor clears him, and then we’re in the elevator, watching the number of floors rise.
For the first time since we were kids, Apollo clasps my hand tight. I think he’s as excited as I am. “We’re getting him back, Mia,” he mutters under his breath. “That’s what matters.”
