CHAPTER SIX
Call squints, annoyed by the morning light, already high, making its way through the dense vegetation, until it kisses the pale surface of the tent. She pulls the covers tighter on herself and in doing so realizes she is alone. A flash of concern for Ripley makes its way into her awareness and she snaps to her seat, cursing herself for falling asleep so deeply, who knows when, in the middle of the night.
"Call?", the palm of Ripley's hand spreads beyond the fabric of the curtain, waiting for contact. Call smiles, thinking back to the morning a few days before, when the hand outside the curtain was her own, and places her palm on the woman's. "Come on, sleepyhead, I'll pour your coffee"
*.*
"How are you feeling?", she asks immediately, sitting down next to the clone and carefully observing her relaxed expression. She doesn't think she's ever seen her so serene.
"In a word?", Ripley asks, smiling and raising an eyebrow. "Blessed", she declares, nodding. "Not in religious terms, let me be clear", she adds, catching the girl's surprised look.
"The effect has worn off, but I'm left with a sense of bliss on me that I hope lasts as long as possible", she continues, sensing in Call's silence a veil of concern. "I still have to process everything I've experienced", she adds, staring into the fire after a long silence.
"Yeah, I can imagine", the young woman responds participatively, sipping the steaming beverage.
"I witnessed my own death, Call", she says, pleased by her friend's silence. An invitation to continue, in her own time.
"I don't mean Ellen Ripley's death, on Fiorina 161. I mean my very own. And I found myself at my own funeral. Amanda Ripley was there, Newt was there. Corporal Hicks was there, too. Joan Lambert, even Bishop. Um… I experienced grief, for them and for me. As if I had closed a chapter, with the past, with a life that is not mine, I don't know how best to explain it", she says, speaking slowly, looking for the words to best express the overwhelming experience of the previous hours.
"But there were other people there, too. People from the Base, you know?", she adds, thinking back to the surprise she felt when she saw Marko from maintenance, sitting in the second row, with his perfectly neat grizzled beard, as usual, and a dark suit that made him look more like an executive, than a simple worker. He had asked her out on a couple of occasions, but she had declined both times, making excuses. Next to him were the two friendly co-workers on her shift, Abby and Trenton. They had invited her out for a beer at the end of her shift practically every Friday since she had started working at the supply warehouse. She could never remember which one of them was an Auton, but they seemed like a really close-knit couple. There was Stephen from the diner, who always got her a decent cup of coffee in the morning, and her sister Samira, who gave her meaningful looks from the kitchen at every occasion, but didn't seem to have the nerve to talk to her.
"And I thought… I've spent pretty much my entire short life trying to remember more clearly… a life that wasn't even my own! And the more I tried to remember, the more emotionally detached I became from those memories and especially from the present! Nonsense! I was so absorbed by the ghost of Ellen Ripley and her people, that I totally ignored my own people! You for instance", she admits calmly.
"Was I there?", Call asks, unable to restrain herself any longer.
"Of course you were there!", Ripley replies promptly, looking at her with a loving smile. "You told me everything was going to be okay as you laid a bouquet of flowers on my chest", she clarifies serenely. She turns back to staring into the fire.
"Our own death has no relevance, in the natural order of the immensity of the whole. We are so insignificant, as individuals, in the infinity of the Universe! And that's okay, that's how nature works, ya know? The body dies, and the soul returns to the Infinite, I think", she doesn't know why she said that, but it seems very important to her to be able to share it.
"And you were right, you know? It all worked out", she adds shortly after. "I was sucked into the Infinite. I didn't have a body anymore. I was just essence, just soul". she continues, with a veil of frustration, in realizing how difficult it is to chronicle that overwhelming journey.
"It's really tricky to explain. To make it conceptualized. I don't know, it's such an inherent kind of awareness that there are no words that can express it without belittling it", she admits, looking at Call with an almost apologetic expression.
"But I was extremely serene. And I felt like ... um... filled with love. Like this was the only feeling worthy of significance. A right of every living thing, to give and receive love. Even mine. That's why I say I feel blessed. I hope this feeling, this awareness never leaves me", she continues, hoping that the emotional in her voice will fill in the gaps that words cannot.
She looks for her eyes, but the young woman has lowered her gaze, seeming to be suddenly saddened. The clone immediately realizes the reason for her reaction, and drags her chair closer leaning forward, silently inviting her to make eye contact and wait for her to express herself, in her own time and words.
The android feels her questioning gaze, struggles to smile and forces herself to look at her as she genuinely says how happy she is for what she experienced, but the clone sketches, giving her a benevolent but doubtful look. Perhaps she's noticed the hint of envy that littered her words for a nanosecond.
"I'm sure you mean it, Call. But it's not what you would want to say", she declares, confidently. "Come on, you can tell me anything that's on your mind", she continues lowering her voice in a sympathetic tone.
"It's just that none of it applies, to me, you know? Um, I mean, I'm not part of the natural order of things", the young woman reasons, feeling small and a bit selfish.
"Why not?", the clone asks patiently.
"You know why!", Call replies with a shrug, frustrated by the new twist in the conversation. "Um... why am I just plastic and derivatives? I don't have a soul. I have a source code. I don't die. I just cease to function."
"Why did you come with me?", Ripley interrupts her, leaving her now certain that she has walked into a quagmire.
"Um, because it was too dangerous for you to stay at the Base, with the USM around there?", she replies, starting to feel trapped and not even sure why.
"I could easily have taken care of myself, I don't need a babysitter", the woman retorts, keeping her tone softer and caring. She casts a glance at her, who stares in astonishment, silently.
"I mean, after the way I treated you, what were you thinking, dropping everything to nurse me?", she asks.
"Look, I know where this is going, but the fact that I care about the people around me doesn't determine a damn thing. It's just the way they programmed me", the young woman retorts in a defeated tone.
"It's your reasons that don't determine a damn thing, Call!", Ripley speaks spreading her arms wide and displaying a sunny smile that displaces her friend, leaving her stunned.
"Tell me something, in seventy-one years, have you ever fallen in love?", she asks, thinking of the multiple mixed couples that populate the Base.
"Well, you know, after I slaughtered whoever had slaughtered my family, I've been pretty busy hiding out, it's not like I've been in settings very conducive to developing close or honest interpersonal relationships, that is"
"Okay, that makes sense, and in four months at The Base? Not even a tiny crush?", she asks jokingly, bumping her with her shoulder in a knowing manner.
"I don't think it's for me", Call replies, blushing suddenly. Understandable, Ripley thinks, considering she doesn't seem to have any experience with it. Come to think of it, she doesn't have any either, aside from a few sporadic memories of Ellen Ripley's life. But she gets the feeling that the psychedelic experience has done a lot in that regard.
"Why?", the clone senses that they're approaching the tipping point, the one she can latch onto to shatter her beliefs, or, if nothing else, plant a seed. She watches her shrug her shoulders and become saddened as she lowers her gaze to her feet.
"Perhaps it's because the only people you've ever loved were ripped away from you in a flash, and in a horrible way?", the woman softens the tone of her voice, caught by a sudden sense of protectiveness towards her friend.
"I think that's plausible", the young woman replies after much thought, staring into the fire of the brazier.
"You see, your species is programmed to love, yet you reject that option, because of what you have experienced. We could say that your life experiences have partly overwritten your programming, do you follow me?", there's the catch, Ripley chooses her words carefully, and waits patiently for Call's nod of assent, before continuing.
"And isn't that exactly how the lives of human beings work, after all? Isn't it true that experiences shape the character of each of us?", the woman spreads her arms wide, gesturing with animosity.
"You're one to talk, having isolated yourself completely since we've been at the Base!", Call clings to the last available remnant, defending her own ideas, despite being aware that her friend is absolutely right. Her protective instincts still want to rule her.
"Yeah, what an idiot I've been!", the hybrid forces herself not to take it personally. "I'm starting to realize that, and I'm going to move on, start over. You can, too. We're safe, at the Base. We deserve more than just survival, don't you think?", she understands Call's resistance, her doubts, her now hardened inability to form bonds. After all, she's spent almost her entire existence in hiding, after a terrible trauma moreover. It's just that she really wants to know she's at peace. She sees her tighten her lips, uncomfortable.
A sudden, croaking noise from inside the OLIVIA ends the difficult and profound confrontation.
"They're calling us!", the android snaps to her feet and at a brisk pace disappears inside the Hummingbird, leaving Ripley partially disappointed at the abrupt closure.
*.*
"So, your theory is what?", Ripley asks as together they attempt to fold the suspended curtain so that it fits under OLIVIA's back seat.
"My guess is that your body reacted to the frog's venomous attack by stimulating your pineal gland to an inordinate production of dimethyltryptamine, altering your state of consciousness. I want to do some analysis, when we're back at the Base, is that okay with you?", Call expresses herself laboriously, trying hard to keep up with her friend, although her petite size makes it particularly complicated for her to stock the shelter, what's more, they're in the pouring rain, in short, nothing pleasant.
The Amazon Rainforest has not been particularly benevolent towards them, especially her own. The scars on her arms have healed, but they itch terribly. Perhaps it wouldn't have hurt to treat them, at least in the early stages, with a few more nanorobots after all.
"Of course, I'm curious as well", the clone replies hugging the huge bundle and following the girl inside the shuttle to stow the bulky burden in its place.
"I'm sorry, I know it can't be easy for you to deal with people in scrubs poking and studying you", the Auton says in a sympathetic voice as she invites her to sit beside her, to press the curtain under the long padded bench.
"Well, still better than my alternative", the woman reassured her, thinking back to when they were first flying over the Base in the world's most famous former prison.
*.*
A few hours after the Auriga crash.
"It's not over, Call. As long as I'm alive, there's always going to be risk, you know that", she says calmly, but refusing to look her right in the face. "You have to finish what you started"
"What? No!", the girl retorts, under the alarmed gaze of Vriess at the Betty's command seat, and Johner's vaguely morbid one. "Forget it!"
"I'll take care of you if you want, Ripley", the man promptly offers, with an amused smirk further darkening the already banged-up features of his vaguely lion-like face.
"Knock it off, Johner!", the android instantly zaps him, flatly refusing to consider the urgency expressed by the woman, aware, unfortunately, of the validity of her reasons.
"Look, give me some time to talk to the science lab. Let me try to come up with a solution, okay?", Call pleaded her, seeing her shake her head. "I promise you, if things get bad, I'll take care of you", she insists, remaining vague, refusing to utter anything more specific.
*.*
Her relief had been palpable when, only a few hours after saying goodbye to her two old traveling companions, the group of doctors and researchers in the community had enthusiastically taken up the challenge, proposing to use the nanorobots.
They had discovered almost immediately that the titanium resisted the acidity of her blood, but they had had to produce a whole series of special tools, including needles. Call had relaxed considerably at that point. Then her friend had started to pull her away and she had tried to throw herself into the research, to think as little as possible about that unexpected attitude.
Now, Call is eager to get back on her feet, although she knows the lab came to a screeching halt when they had to move away. It needs to be resumed as soon as possible, and she also hopes to have time to test her theories about Ripley's experience the previous day.