Three and a Half Months Later
Meredith sat in the waiting room of her father's office, dressed in a grey Weyland Industries suit, her hair tied back in a knot at the back of her head. The air buzzed through the vents, cold and recycled, and that was how Meredith felt. Cold. Recycled. And empty.
The door to the office swung open. She knew her father would send him, but it was still a shock to see his blond hair and stiff, formal posture. He hadn't been on the ship when she woke from hypersleep, and this was the first she'd seen of him since leaving LV-183.
Meredith's breath caught, and then she caught herself. David watched her in a way that was not quite robotically impassive. The expression was the mostly the same, but it felt more like a simulation of his usual mannerisms, not the real thing.
They had agreed, when the message came that they were both to return to the Martian office, to pretend it had never happened. For the sake of her career, and for the sake of his existence.
They pretended.
Meredith stood up, smoothing down the front of her suit. "Hello, David."
"Hello, Ms. Vickers." He smiled, cold and distant. "Mr. Weyland would see you now." He pushed the door open all the way, and yellow sunlight poured into the waiting room. Meredith walked into the office, her heart pounding. David would see it, all that panicked light. She wondered what he'd make of it.
Her father sat at his desk, typing on his computer. He stopped when she walked in and stood up, holding out his arms as if he meant to embrace her. "Meredith!" he called out. "So good to see you. Come, sit, sit." He arranged himself back in his chair, and Meredith sat down in front of his desk, nervous and uncertain. She was aware of David behind her, pouring glasses of brandy at the bar.
"Did you have a nice trip?" her father asked.
"I suppose. There's not much to be aware of in hypersleep."
"Oh, don't I know it."
David materialized at the desk, carrying two tumblers. He handed one to her father and one to her. When she accepted, their fingers brushed against each other. Electricity.
"I was looking over the numbers," her father said. David glided away, into the shadows. Meredith drank her brandy. The alcohol soothed her nerves. "Impressive work, Meredith. I have to say, it was much better than I expected." He leaned back in his chair. The Martian sunlight poured in through the windows behind him, casting him in a halo.
"Good to know I can manage a pleasant surprise now and then."
Her father raised an eyebrow. "No need for sarcasm. Your numbers were good. Got the miners working, always tricky. Not their natural state, you know."
Meredith didn't say anything.
"You know this was a test," her father went on. "David was helping me."
"I suspected as much."
Her father laughed. "Good girl. I always knew you were smart."
No, you didn't, Meredith thought.
"Anyway." Her father rubbed at his chin. "What are your plans, now that you're back?"
Meredith forced herself not to glance at her shoulder over at David. "Go back to school, I suppose."
"School! Did you listen to a word I said?" Her father leaned forward, fingers rapping against his desk. "Be honest: you learned more out on LV-183 then you did in all of your classes combined."
I learned more than you could possibly know, Meredith thought. Or understand. But instead she only said, "I enjoyed the chance for a practical application of my schoolwork, yes."
Her father scoffed. "Don't be so bloody formal."
Meredith shrugged.
And then her father's computer chimed. He looked at it, scowling, but when he opened up the message his face lit up with delight. "Oh, hell, looks like Robert's back on planet two hours early." He shut the message down and turned to Meredith. "He's down in his office now. I've got to talk to him about something. You wait here. Don't run off, I've something to ask you." He nodded at her empty tumbler. "Do you want another? David, pour Meredith another brandy."
And then he was gone, as if the sunlight had blinked him out.
David didn't pour Meredith another drink, but he did walk over to her father's desk and stand close to her chair, arms hanging at his side, watching her. She set the tumbler on the desk and dug the heel of her hand into her forehead. The sunlight was too bright.
"He's going to offer you a job."
David's voice startled her. She looked up at him. The sunlight turned him golden.
"A true job," David said. "Not a test. I wasn't supposed to tell you, so please act surprised."
It was what she wanted, wasn't it? A job with her father's company, a path heading toward CEO. David took a step closer to her. He was wearing sandals. They seemed strange, out of place when paired with his grey suit.
"I'm very happy for you," he said.
Meredith looked at him. She had dreamed about him in hypersleep, dreamed that she was lying with him on a blanket in the snow, colored lights falling around them as he moved inside her. Thinking of that dream now, her cheeks were hot.
"Thank you," she said.
They looked at each other in the sunlight, and an entire love affair passed between them, all the desire and passion and frustration and happiness. This was the closet they could ever come, this moment in the highest office of Weyland Industries.
And then David said, "Which department would like to be appointed to?"
"What?"
"He'll let you choose, I imagine, based on your interests. With which department would you like to work?"
Meredith turned away from him. Her skin itched and her thoughts were falling apart. "I don't know. Mining, I suppose."
"Why not robotics?"
Meredith looked at him again, her face hot. "I don't know anything about robots."
"You know plenty," David said, and his mouth turned up in a stiff smile, and she returned it. The sunlight was hot on her skin. That thing her mother used to say - like a red Martian sky. As she looked at David, she remembered what it meant: a red Martian sky was a falsehood everyone took as truth. Like the notion that a daughter couldn't inherit the most powerful corporation in the galaxy. Or the insistence that androids were just cybernetic individuals, devoid of feelings or dreams or desires or hopes.
The Martian sky was not red, it was yellow. And David looked at Meredith as if she were worthy of love.
Meredith stood up, moving so abruptly that she knocked her tumbler off the desk. It landed on the carpet. Neither she nor David moved to pick it up.
"Meredith," David said in a low, cautionary whisper.
"I know," she whispered back, and then, in an act of colossal bravery, of colossal stupidity, she brushed her lips against his.
"Mr. Weyland will be back soon," David said, and although he tried to keep his face blank she saw something like pain flash across his eyes.
She stepped back. The air buzzed. She thought she heard her father's laughter out in the hallway.
"Goodbye," she said, knowing that she would see him many times again.
The End
A/N: First off, I want to thank everyone who has read and commented on this story. I kept meaning to thank you all earlier, but I've been so busy that uploading the new chapters was a pretty slapdash affair. You're all the best! 3 Thank you.
I went back and forth on whether or not I wanted to keep this story canon(ish). In the end, I went with the sadder ending more out of necessity than anything else; I have so many RL obligations right now, most of them writing-related, that I was afraid the story would get swept up in the flurry and abandoned, which I didn't want to happen. If things ever settle down enough, though, I hope to write a sequel. So... we'll see.
Anyway, thanks again for everyone who read and commented on this story. I really, really appreciate the feedback.
