This was ridiculous.
That was all Astrid could think about during the 5 hour drive to Elko. Well, there was that, and the paralyzing fear of anyone she knew finding out what was going on. She didn't want to see that damn robot again. In fact, she would be perfectly content to go the rest of her life without ever having to encounter another one of them. Nope! Not another one of them, or him, ever again.
...well, at least not so soon.
Her train of thought trailed backwards in time to, yet again, take a glimpse at where her mind was that horrible morning after. Waking up in the garage with him was probably one of the most terrifying moments of her short life. The shreds of memories left over from the night before was enough to induce waves of nausea from shame and horror. She wanted to scream, she wanted to tear out her hair, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. In fact, Astrid had done her best to accomplish the latter after wretching. Locking herself in the bathroom seemed like the most logical thing to do after an entire night of illogical things, despite the fact that he wasn't in the house to begin with. She felt absolutely disgusting. The taste of vomit fresh in her mouth, the smell of sex, sweat, liquor, and oil hanging thick in the air around her... she turned on a scalding hot shower and sat under the pounding jets of water for the better part of 2 hours, until the water got too cold to bear. Even then, she didn't feel clean enough. With nothing else she could do to help the distressing feeling, she threw on some sweats and slept the day away.
Astrid's mind hiccuped when she realized she'd skimmed over something... oh that's right, he'd come to the window to try and calm her down. Just remembering that fired her up again. Her pulse hastened, her eyes narrowed, and her foot felt heavier on the gas pedal. What right did he have to try and talk sense into her? What made him think, in all his vast, mechanized knowledge of everything, that talking would help the situation at all? Nothing either of them could say would help her reverse or at least forget what had happened. There was nothing that either of them could do, even in a sober state of mind, that would make the situation any better.
Didn't that damn robot understand what they did meant? It meant that she wasn't just nuts, but that she was, deep down, faulty. Something, no matter what it was, was fucked up, and it would merit therapy at least. Maybe something was wrong with her sexually? Maybe something was wrong with her emotionally? Maybe her father did something stupid to her at such a young age that she didn't even remember, and now that primal resentment has finally reared its ugly head. Maybe she suffered head trauma during the accident. Maybe...
Astrid decided to stop thinking lest she reduce herself to a smouldering pile of anger once again and do something stupid while driving. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down, she turned on the radio and glanced at the rear view mirror just to make sure that the only thing following her was a wide swath of empty highway.
Three more hours to go.
By the time the woman had passed the "Welcome to Elko" sign, standing just short of erect in the dry, dusty ground, Astrid had broken into a cold sweat. Her hands shook and her heart rate was a bit swifter than normal.
"I don't want to be here," was her soft mantra.
Astrid was trying to compare her apprehension to something else, and finally settled on surgery. It felt like she was about to go into some very invasive surgery... when reasoning with logic, she knew she had nothing to fear, and that she trusted the doctors and surgeons with the operation. It still didn't help.
When a yawning ache churned in her gut, she realized that her shaking was probably due to low blood sugar, and so decided to stop at the first fast food joint she came across. She also figured that she needed to stand up and get the blood flowing, so the Xterra was parked outside the first place that popped up: a Del Taco.
Food was ordered and eaten in pensive silence, though it wasn't rushed. She was deliberately taking her time, trying to stave off the inevitable as long as she could. There was that, and also, she didn't know exactly where she was to be meeting him. When Astrid was finished with her food, she remained in the booth, pretending to be preoccupied with her phone like any other twenty-something American girl. But then an idea came to her. What if she didn'tgo to meet them? What if she got in her car, and turned right around to stay in a motel somewhere? She looked back at the inanimate yellow 4x4 and the sparse camping gear hastily piled in the back seat. The thought was extremely tempting. In fact, a quick glance out the window revealed a Days Inn right across the street. She swallowed hard and went back to doing nothing.
Maybe ten minutes later, and her phone vibrated, letting her know a text message arrived. Astrid sighed.
Where are you?
She bit down on her lip, gnawing on the chapped skin. Her fingers hovered over the tiny keys, trying to summon courage.
I'm staying in a motel tonite instead. thx 4 everything. good luck.
In a false display of bravado, she turned off her phone just after that and sat in the booth, heart beating in her throat. About thirty seconds later, though, she espied none other than a green Jeep and another off-road vehicle speed into the parking lot driveway. The blue SUV-looking thing backed into the space next to her car, and the Jeep slowed down to an almost predatory pace as it circled the building, finally coming to a stop on the section of driveway closest to her window. She ducked down. Her heart sought to leap out of her mouth, but she kept it in check with much effort. Her breathing was shallow as she gazed at the Jeep again. Upon close inspection, there was no driver.
Astrid calmed herself down, but that didn't stop her from throwing away her trash any less hastily on her way to the restroom. Just before she closed the door, she saw him circle around nearer to the front doors. The bathroom provided little comfort. The white walls, etched with unintelligible gibberish and painted with an ugly mural of graffiti were imposing. Astrid leaned against the brushed metal of the handicap railing, and hesitantly turned her phone back on.
She was not surprised to find an unread text message.
You need to come out.
The electronic device was promptly slipped into her bag, though she didn't move one inch.
Why was she suddenly terrified of him again? Was she overreacting, or did she have every right to behave this way? She was acting like she'd had a one night stand with an axe-murderer. When in fact it was a (mostly) consensual act carried out by two (mostly) consenting... things.
"He's a fucking alien!" she found herself hissing to the myriad symbols scrawled on the wall. The bathroom made a poor courtroom, and the graffiti a poor jury. She wasn't going to get the verdict she wanted out of them, and in fact, seemed that they were trivializing the situation.
Maybe she needed a little trivializing.
Out of ammo and tired of running, she forfeited her spot in the restroom and slowly walked outside.
Astrid's eyes immediately fell upon the pugnacious form of the Jeep, silent, as she nearly tiptoed past. The wide, round headlights seemed to follow her with disapproval all the way to the Xterra. It was an eerie moment, walking past him like that, but as soon as she started the engine to her own car, the two bots headed out of the parking lot. She assumed they wanted her to follow.
Apprehension tightened every muscle and ligament in her body, as she struggled to conjure up anger for him. She was able to do so, but it wasn't as strong as she was hoping for. Christ... what was with her?
They drove for another ten minutes, and the woman could hear messages being sent to her phone, consciously ignoring them. They drove, turning left here, right there, until they came on a small campground nestled in the foothills of some stunted mountains. Before approaching the front booth, however, the Jeep and blue vehicle pulled over. Wondering what they were up to, she pulled over behind them. Immediately, both of their left hand blinkers went on. What the hell were they trying to say? Frustrated, she threw open her door and walked up to the driver-side window of the green vehicle. It took immense amounts of effort to look casual.
"What are you doing," she hissed at him. The window rolled down for effect, revealing the holographic driver she hated so much, toothpick still protruding from between its pearly whites.
"Check in for us," he said in a very quiet voice. "There's a reservation under your name. Pick a spot as far from everything and anyone as you can manage."
Swallowing, Astrid strode back to her car and pulled up in front of them.
Some time later, she returned to the front with the desired camping spot. Two pairs of invisible optics, glowing with a cold and calculating light, were on her back; she could feel them. When she waved over the two mechs, the ranger informed her that each campsite was allowed two vehicles, and every one after that was ten dollars per night. Biting back a string of livid comments, she forfeited two fives in return for another parking stub. The Jeep rolled his window down to receive his stub, and she tossed it inside without pausing in her stride. The blue one received a slightly kinder treatment.
Astrid had made sure that their site was up against the mountains and had the most tree cover as possible. She pulled into one of the two available spots and immediately began to unpack her things, pretending to not notice the Jeep pull in beside the yellow car.
A strange sense of panic swept through her when she heard a car door open and close behind her. Goosebumps appeared in a subtle wave on her arms, the fine hairs on her neck standing on end. She didn't hear footsteps in the dirt, or hear the movement of clothing, or feel that any physical thing had actually drawn closer, but when she turned around to see a man standing there, Astrid couldn't help but let out a burst of a gasp, mingled with unintelligible sounds. Her heart near leaped out of her chest. Fortunately, it didn't take her long to recognize the toothpick, cowboy hat, and aviators. Astrid glared at herself in the reflection of the sunglass lenses, before turning to the Jeep.
"I refuse to speak to you through this thing," she stated firmly before going back to unpacking her tent. Out of the corner of her eye, the hologram drew near. Christ, she hated that thing!
To her surprise, it spoke. Well, not really spoke, as the mouth didn't move, but a voice (his voice) projected from the proper areas of the body. "How else am I supposed to talk to you? Besides, I don't want people to think that you're here all alone with three cars."
Astrid snorted.
"Look..." His voice had held a certain tone of stiff professionalism the entire day, but he dropped it just then, and the the soft tenor she was used to returned. "I know... that you..." the fake thing ventured.
Astrid stopped what she was doing with a sharp exhale and faced the holoform, though her eyes darted from the aviators to the Jeep. "We'll discuss this later." She honestly felt like a complete idiot talking to this... this puppet. It wasn't him, and both of them knew it. Not only that, but even thinking about discussing the little mishap made her uneasy. "Don't you have other things to worry about anyway?"
There was no point in searching the holographic face for any signs of emotion; they weren't there. It wasn't designed for true interaction with a human, it was designed to be a finishing touch on one big costume and nothing more. Astrid sighed and turned away from it.
Only half an hour managed to pass when she found herself laying down in the 3-man tent, gazing up at the stark white polyester. A mature Pinyon pine cast an intricate spatter of shadows across the tent, but it was not enough to hold her attention for long. She brought a hand up to massage at the inner corners of her eyes in attempts to stave off a headache, but she knew it would be to no avail.
Why was she here?
The obvious answer was that her house wasn't safe to live in until a police investigation cleared things up, but... there was something else. Something more. Like a switch, Astrid turned her attention to her legs, becoming aware of them. She felt them over, took inventory with her mind's eye. The faintest of stubble from not having shaved, the weakness of her right leg, the fresh scars on both limbs, the stitches having been removed with her cast were all taken account of. The more she lay there in silence, listening to the occasional bird or wail of a child on the other side of the campground, the more she remembered how depressed she was. The word felt alien in her mind; it was something that she never thought to associate with herself. She realized that it'd been going on for some time, and the tryst did not help in the least. Knowing him seemed to just make things worse, as a matter of fact.
We are all machines...
Before she knew it, 5 o'clock was fast approaching.
I'm judging for the both of us.
She recalled their interactions a month or so before. Light, fun, and understanding. Deep, deep down, she wanted that again.
"Astrid." Hearing her name immediately brought her out of the depths of her own churning thoughts, though her eyes remained fixed on the shadows on the tent. His voice was gentle still, though if she squinted, she could hear a sense of calculation in the tone. How many times did she have to tell him that she didn't want to talk about it? Astrid was growing exceedingly exasperated, and his persistence only made her sick and angry. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted. "You should think about calling Tahoe law enforcement about your house before the night's over if you haven't already."
That wasn't what she expected to hear. His words were chosen carefully and spoken so unobtrusively that, if she didn't know better, he sounded as if he was feeling just as shitty as her.
"Youmade the first move," she whispered. The words were so faint that she barely heard them. A little more time passed before she felt like moving to reach her phone. To her immense dismay, there was no reception in the valley, so with no energy left for hesitation, she tore open the flap to her tent, strode right on past the two holograms sitting at the table, and was headed for the main entrance. It was a good ten minute walk, and another 5 minutes of being on the phone with 411 before she made it through to the South Tahoe police dept.
"Hi, yes," she began, putting on her best voice. "I'm calling because I have reason to believe that the land line and internet at my home has been tampered with, and that I am being stalked... no, as soon as I suspected something, I vacated the premises... I'm staying with friends, yes... Monday morning? That's great... right. Thank you very much, Officer Sherman. A claim? I'll get back in contact with you Monday, as I'm out of town right now... My name is Astrid Schneider. Yes, of course. Thank you, you too."
Click.
At least that was taken care of now. Or at least, as much as she could accomplish without visiting the precinct.
After hanging up and slipping the phone into her pocket, she gazed at the whole of the campground, and decided that it was the perfect opportunity to have a few extra minutes to herself. The young woman started the trek back to her site, but she deliberately took the longest way to get there, and walked at practically a snail's pace.
Nevada had a different smell than California, she realized. The vegetation was similar, but there was just something else... a particular dryness, perhaps, that lingered in the air and ripened the smells of all else that sought to travel on the wind. The desert just had a unique feel to it. To many it was a harsh and unforgiving place, but to her, ever the nature-lover, it was where the true colors of the earth were revealed, worn away by centuries of wind and sand so that there was nothing left but the pure foundation. Day hikes in Arizona made her feel welcome to be human; at the time, she doubted that being anything else would have allowed her to feel the warm embrace of something so often associated with cold lifelessness as rock.
As metal...
Suddenly, her little detour wasn't long enough.
Astrid had returned at least an hour later after having abandoned the campground for a small walk in the hills. Getting out and walking felt better than she ever could have predicted, and when she thought about it, it surprised her to find that this was the first time that she'd actually done so since getting her cast off. Really? Weeks had truly gone by without her really knowing... up until this morning, Astrid hadn't really left the house.
But all in all, she felt considerably better after walking. She also managed to avoid thinking about him for the most part. Picking at a scab interrupted the healing process, after all.
The sun was very low in the sky when she finally returned. The two holograms jumped up (almost as if they were human) upon seeing her. "Where have you been?" the voice seemed to come more from the Jeep than his holo, urgency evident in his failing to project the sound more convincingly.
"I'm fine. I just went for a little hike."
If they'd said anything more, she didn't hear them. She was hungry, and getting a fire going before nightfall was the current priority. Before long, a blazing hearth had become the center of the camp site. Astrid pulled up a chair and stared into the orange light. There was a Coleman mug, blue and speckled, loosely grasped between her hands. She saw the holos get up from where they were seated to join her around the fire. Camping chairs fizzled into existence, massless, yet strong enough to support the weightless bodies now seated upon them. The sight almost made Astrid smile, but then she remembered who she'd be smiling at.
The silence, in a strange way, was almost content. Almost. There was something hanging in the air, though it wasn't obvious what it was, to her surprise. They all seemed to be waiting for something. Pushing that thought to the side, however, she reached forward with a fork in hand to pluck a ballpark frank off the grill before it got a little too "cajun" for her liking. She stuck it in a bun with a drizzle of mustard before wolfing it down. Two more were devoured in a similar fashion when Astrid turned her eyes upward.
Stars. Billions upon billions of them littered the velvety blanket of the night sky...
This planetary system, this galaxy, are cosmic machines.
"Cybertron is about an arc second from Sirius." A voice, deep and smooth broke the silence. She glanced over at the second hologram. Should it have been human, he would have been immediately recognizable as an old beach bum. Long hair tied back, a short scraggly beard, a hooded sweatshirt faded from either over-washing or too much exposure to the sun, trashed cargo shorts, and sandals spoke volumes about the blue robot. "You can't see our sun, though. It was a white dwarf back in the day... and you know how those cats get dimmer like there ain't no tomorrow."
Astrid nodded and turned her attention back to the sky, looking for Sirius.
"How far?"
"Lightyears, little lady. Lightyears..."
She stole a glance at the man behind the aviators and was disappointed to see the facial expression unchanged. Feeling a little bold, her eyes darted over to the Jeep, and she noticed that his chassis was sitting lower on his suspension than normal. She turned back to the stars.
She and Beachcomber softly discussed Cybertron and the night sky for a long time; all the while the Jeep remained silent, his holo unwavering in its impersonal stolidity. She wondered for a brief moment about the state of the hologram should he fall asleep. Astrid was falling asleep herself, as a matter of fact. Camping did that; without the light and noise of the city, sleep was easier to come by. Beachcomber seemed to notice her eyelids struggling to stay up, and excused himself.
"You mind takin' the first shift, man? I'm gonna catch me some, uh, some zees..."
"No problem," he said. It startled her to find that he was still very much awake after not having said anything for the better part of 2 hours.
The fire was dying now. She hadn't added any logs to keep it going, and the decreasing light wasn't helping her fatigue. "You know what, I think I'm going to be hitting the sack too," Astrid announced, rising from her chair to put the campsite away. Squirrels had a habit of running amok in the early morning.
"Hey, well now there's no need to end the party just 'cause old Beachcomber's calling it quits, you know..."
Was he doing what she thought he was doing? "No, no... I'm getting tired. It's after ten anyways. I usually don't stay up much longer than this when I camp."
"Well," he said, and she felt compelled to finish his sentence with 'I tried...', but he finished it himself at length. "I ain't the kind of 'bot to argue with a lady... or a anyone, really. You know better than I do what's best for you. Catch you cats on the flipside."
"Goodnight, Beachcomber."
Hearing his voice sound with hers at just that moment was startling to say the least. A silence passed as she expected to hear the Jeep say something, but he was silent. The embers from the dying fire reflected in the sunglasses under the cowboy hat. Still, the face was changeless; it was unsettling. Astrid nodded at the quietude between them and headed for her tent.
"Wait..." came the quietly mechanized voice. There it was. She stopped walking and turned around to find the hologram, to her relief, gone. "Can we please talk? Just let me explain myself before you decide never to speak to me again. Please." Astrid remained where she stood, completely still, as his words turned over in her head. She thought about it for a moment, the bile beginning to rise in her. She didn't owe him anything, did she?
Thoughts came in from their first encounter. She hadn't even seen him, but he was there, digging her out for the WSAR crew. He accompanied them all to the hospital, checked up on her afterward...
Yes, she owed him. Everything, in fact. But for now, at least, she owed him this.
