Connor
See Hank next to the fast food stand, where the questions were asked a long time ago. Connor felt as if something had broken inside him. His old friend's face lit up, Connor thought he had to smile, but he did it for a moment, what he did was show a smile on his side, maybe the most authentic smile he had ever seen in his life.
Hank approached him and hugged him, noticed the heat emanating from the man and had to admit that he was well, as if what was broken inside him was fixed for a moment.
—Connor —said Hank smiling. The android return the gesture—. How are you?
He didn't know what to say, lay him? Tell the truth? Or change the topic, as if it had better things to spoke? In the end this latter case was true. However, he decided to opt for sincerity.
—I am… — He stopped for a few seconds to thought —. I guess I'm wrong.
Hank raised an eyebrow.
—Why? —asked, seeing that the android didn't answer.
—Because something in my fail if I don't receive orders.
His eyelids fell,that was devasting for him. What should he do when the options were endless? How could someone act knowing that he did not have a marked path, a purpose that someone would have told him?
Hank watched him, silently.
Connor gazed his hands, with an expression of emptiness.
—How do you do? —He wanted to know.
—Do what?
—Know what to do when there are millions of possibilities. Have you never asked? It's crazy; I don't stop of thinking what I must do. Do I look for a place where I can slept? Do I disconnect anywhere, to don't waste energy? If I am alive, Should I look for something that makes me feel that way? Every movement I do it is a probability among millons. How can the humanity live like this?
Hank put a hand on his shoulder.
—To all the androids who awakened—keep Connor—, they are confortable, easy, as if they were ready for this moment, instead I felt better as a machine —said looking again to Hank—. Am I really alive if I believe that my life was better as a machine?
Sometimes he thought, and sometimes he belived that he was a fake divergent. It was true that he had made his own decisions, but since the Marku's revolution he had not an really own idea, and not even during the revolt he had felt comfortable, he only had changed a boss for other.
—Connor —Hank hissed—. I'm not a machine, but I can tell you that all of these fears are characteristic of human beings; it's the fear to the future, the fear to not knowing what will happen next. Humans would like to be machines sometimes.
Connor wanted to straighten his tie with a quick movement, but Hank's arm was impeded, what made the android resigned to straighten his suit.
—I do not know how I can be myself.
The man hugged him again
—Don't worry Connor, I'll be on your side.
And again, he had the sensation for a second that everything would be fine.
I am very sorry for my English, I know it is very bad. But for years I wanted to translate one of my fanfics. I apologize again for the translation. And thanks.