I Thought I Heard You Call~By Fujin
Everyone was asleep on the ship, tucked safely away in nice beds while their brains ran wild with glorious dreams they never thought possible in the real world. Dreams of love. Dreams of war. Dreams of fantasy. Dreams all but denied to the robot that sat alone in the shadows. Yes, everyone was asleep. Everyone but one. A little past midnight and night still found her sitting desolate in the living room compartment of the large spaceship. She sat by herself on the couch, legs tucked beneath her slender form, a blanket thrown over her shoulders along with the shadows of the room. One small lamp was on. An untouched cup of milk rest before her on a low coffee table. She didn't even want it or crave it but just having it near her made her feel less robotic somehow. It felt so human to drink a warm beverage at night, to calm everyday human emotions like anger, pain, or discouragement.
But she wasn't a human but a construct who desperately wanted to be human, like everyone else. She didn't know which role she wanted to play or was designed to be. Sometimes she just felt so human-she felt all their emotions, saw things the way they did, spoke words they normally spoke-but other times she felt so mechanic. Especially in her navigation pod, when she was directly hooked up to the ship. It was those times when she let the mysterious mechanisms side of her control both her mind and spirit.
She didn't know who or what she was. Why was she here? What is her purpose? Why had she been made? She had been so close to actually believing that she might be a human too. That is until he came. That scientist who did nothing but remind her of who she was-an ordinary machine that could be turned of and on at a given command. She didn't want to be reminded. For the past weeks she had been living like a normal girl, despite her interlocking but cloudy connection to their ship. She eat, slept, laughed, saw movies, cooked dinners, had adventures and misfortunes alike. She had friends who cared about her and loved her. Gene. She could cry and smile, dance, and sing. What machine could do all that?
Melfina sighed heavily, her eyes downcast, as the shadows of the night grew larger. To her right was a big window that she could look out and see the stars, and beautiful swirling patterns of multicolored gases and light, and far-off planets. It was so beautiful. It was space, endless and secretive. She moved her sad eyes to the window and gazed out, its beauty calming her disquieted soul of a moment until a familiar face flashed across her memory. This caused her to look away in sorrow, tears building up in her brown eyes.
So much has happened, she thought to herself. I feel so different somehow. Especially when I'm around them all at once. It's so scary. I've changed. But how? Why? I don't know if I'm the same anymore. I just woke up a day ago yet it seems like it happened years ago and I have grown, like people have changed right in front of me. Gene doesn't talk to me like he use to. We use to talk and laugh all day together but now he doesn't even look at me. Is it me? Have I done something wrong? Maybe he doesn't want to remember that I am an android. Maybe he hates that fact about me. I couldn't blame him. Who would want to be friends with a robot?
Still it hurt her. Hurt so much that she couldn't stand it.
Melfina sighed again and pulled the soft blanket tighter around her shoulders. She hid her face in her knees and softly whimpered. All around her were undisturbed sounds of the night aboard the Outlaw Star. And no one heard her.
Inside she wished she were still asleep in that God-forsaken coma she had previously experienced. That was her world and her world alone. Life was so painful but in her world she owned the sky, the sun, and wind. Everything was hers for the taking. The sun rose for her. The stars shone for her. The breeze blew for her and no one else. They were her servants.
She only remained a day or day in the blackness of the coma. After that her mind seemed to finally opened up to the turbid ebony clouds of her forlorn unconsciousness. And that changed everything. The next minute she was floating in water, with beautiful red wings enclosing around her, hiding her bare snow-white body from the warm strokes of the playful currents within the water. Her eyes were closed and hand locked together before her naked breasts. Her head was lowered while her hair floated elegantly about her head like feathers, tickling her face like fingertips. The air around her was a deep green and seemed to sparkle like a million diamonds all at once. In its mist-like form it wrapped itself around her, playing with her limbs and her hair like a beaming kitten.
When her large crimson wings opened up for a brief moment she had lifted her elegant pale arms towards the heavens before she found herself standing in a field of flowers, all lavender planets. Perfumed purple petals were all about her, flying in the air, racing against the endless blue eyes while the warm sun overhead glowed as brightly as the first day. They were all there too. Jim, Gene, Asiha, Sazuka. And they were all happy. They laughed, talked, played, eat the food at the picnic. She was happy with them. When Gene brought her to a private place and told her things like her favorite color, her moods, what she loved, what she hated. He told her that she was beautiful, sweet and perfect, she could only cry against his shoulder. She was so happy! She had never realized that he knew half as much about her.
But when he told her that he loved her everything began to wither away. The flowers, the air, the warmth, Gene. She reached out for him but the phantasm was gone before she knew it. Her world faded, and disappeared. Once again she was trapped in the midst of those terrible clouds. But she heard him call to her. Gene, alive and vital as ever as he sat next to her while she lied still on a cold metal bed. He was not a ghost from her brain. He was calling to her. Telling her to wake up. Telling her that he wanted to say that he loved her. Gene. Her heart burned with the memory. But of course he never did. The night she woke up, he froze and didn't talk to her much. She was confused about his behavior but didn't have the courage to ask him why. Confusion quickly turned to worry and that was why she was up so late in the night, as tense as a cat.
After a while Melfina finally lifted her damp face from her lap and wiped away her tears. They stayed on the tips of her thumbs like drops of rainwater and she could only stare down at them in pondering regard. Before she never knew who to cry or what brought the crystal tears now she was positive she could write a novel about the whole technique on crying, on feeling pain or happiness so keenly that water poured from her eyes. Before when she first learned to cry what she shed a tear about confused her. What had happened to make her grieve so? Now she knew better. Coldness, discourtesy, a sad movie, a wounded animal. These things could make her cry. Gene could make her cry easily.
But he didn't mean it. If he had known how many tears he had cried because of him he would be morose and guilty not glorious or vain. Still she would never tell him that. Truly it was stupid to cry over trivial things. She would probably never tell him. It was stupid and he didn't need to know. He had so many things to look after besides her feelings. He was a busy man after all. She was just too sensitive. She'd just have to stop caring.
Melfina sighed quietly and slowly stretched her slender body out upon the couch. With a plan she felt a little easier with herself and for the night the couch would serve her as a bed. Who would care if she slept in here and not in her room? Would they worry in the morning if they found her room empty? Would they panic? Probably not. No one looks in on her to see if she is all right-not at night and not in the morning. To them she will always be there, a good little girl is knows were to be at the right time.
Melfina snuggled up on the couch, drawing the blanket tighter about her form and closing her eyes. She needed to forget her feelings for Gene. She needed to become tougher inside and out so that nothing could hurt her like Gene had hurt her. That was it. That was her plan. If Gene could be cold so could she. It didn't look that hard. All she needed to do was not look at him or speak with him, give him the cold shoulder when he was talking to her, not notice his pain when he could hurt, not share is happiness when something goes right for him. Nothing. She will be like him in all ways.
A single tear escaped her eyelash and slowly slid into her back hair. She knew she was only fooling herself. She could never act like that-act so indifferent that she seems like a block of ice. Inside she was a sensitive and caring soul-impressible against pain and sorrow. She'd always have to be that.
"Gene," she quietly whispered into the night. "Gene, I love you. Why do you hate me? What have I done?"
With that she slowly reached to turn out the lamp, not even hearing the retreating footsteps outside the living door.
~*~*~*~
He needed to go the bathroom. He tried to brush the constant feeling off so that he could go back to bed but it remained like a nuisance. But after a sleep-less hour lying awake in bed he finally stirred. With a grunt he rolled of his bed, blinking to chase away the sleep from his eyes. He yawned, boorishly running his fingers through his carmine hair, and climbed to his bare feet. He didn't bother to turn on the light and felt his way around his room to the door. From there he felt his way out into the hallway. It was dark as hell and before Gene knew it he ran right into the wall.
He groaned in tired pain and pulled his squashed face from the metal wall. When had that been placed there? And way was it in his path? Muttering several dark obscenities under his breath, Gene tenderly rubbed his nose. At least there was no blood. But boy did it hurt like hell! He was bound to have a bruise in the morning. Still feeling the extent of the damage, his eyes caught sight of a dim glow coming out from under the door of the living room. To add to his confusion it distinguished in a moment.
"What the...?" he murmured, staring at the vacant spot under the door. He moved away from the wall to the dark doorway. He cocked an ear against the metal door and listened for something. Nothing. Silence. He frowned. Didn't he see a light? His hand automatically reached for the button to open the door. But stopped short.
"Screw it," he murmured, with a yawn. "It's probably Jim."
He turned away and left the matter be. He traveled down the hallway to the bathroom, not looking back to see if the glowing had again returned to the base of the door.
When he had returned to the hallway leading to his room, everything seemed to quiet to him. This left him unsettled as ever. What was that feeling? With a frown, Gene slowly turned around in the hall, his eyes searching every inch of the floor and walls about him. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. The darkness on the ship didn't seem any darker than it had before. Still he pulled his gun out of its holster on his hip. Rising it a little, his trigger finger ready, he search the hall once more. He was confused that he still found nothing. With a begrudging shrug, he lowered his weapon.
"I'm loosing it," Gene muttered to himself, slowly placing his gun back inside its scabbard. Then he yawned and tiredly ran his fingers through his carmine tress. "There is nothing out here."
Still scratching his head he move toward his door, trying to get rid of the constant feeling that something was wrong. He had step onto the threshold on his run when he spun around, he scared face twist in thought. His eyes stared at the closed door of the living compartment. His lips twisted to the side as he slowly down up and down the hallway. When he was for sure that the passage was empty he walked toward the door of the compartment. He couldn't place his finger on it but he knew that whatever was in that room had made him so unstrung.
When he stood before the metal door he paused and cocked his head to the side. He could hear nothing on the other side. Pulling out his gun without a sound he raised a hand to press in the code into a numeric pad at the side of the portal to open the door. Pushing the last number of the code the door obediently opened for him with a quiet swoosh and in he stepped.
At fist he saw nothing. Just shadows and the ordinary furniture-the television, the chairs, and couch. All seemed normal. He even kept he eyes away from the window revealing the open space. But he refused to believe that all was well. He slowly moved further into the room, his gun still raised to shoot down any things that might pose a threat to the Outlaw Star as his eyes still roamed over the black shadows. His face was tightened with steady consideration. Something was definitely in there with him.
A soft sigh caught him of guard. Immediately he had turned to where he thought the sound came from and aimed his weapon. He could only stare at the sleeping figure of Melfina as she lied on the couch and could only realize how close he was to shooting her. He almost dropped his weapon in deadly surprise and horror. If he had squeezed the trigger, she would be dead in an instant. A familiar feeling of lose washed over him as he swallowed and placed his gun where it belonged. His hands trembled as he did this.
His eyes darted back to her face. She seemed so peaceful as she lied there in the soft light of space, her long black hair spread about her head like wings when all he want to was to scream at himself for his pervious actions. Let alone harming her, he could have killed her! Yet despite his inner turmoil, Gene had the urge to touch her cheek but he diminished the desire. Inside he dropped to his knees, to kneel beside the couch.
Why was she here and not in her room? Did she accidentally fall asleep on the couch? That wasn't like her.
Gene pondered to himself if he ought to wake her and take her to her room. He thought that sounded like the right thing to do but his hands would not work along with his good intentions. Instead he just stayed where he was and looked at her, his hands only raising to move a strain of black hair from her brow. And Melfina slept through all of this. Gene couldn't blame her. After all she had gone through, she deserved a good night's rest. But his mind, being the playboy he was, thought her good night's rest ought to take place in his room instead of out here.
Immediately Gene cursed himself for his wild thoughts. Melfina was such a good and kind girl who deserved to be treated better than having some hopeless fool drool over her in his mind. Even though he loved her so much, he knew that Melfina was worthy of a better man's love. Him being with her was like black and white-two colors that were somehow perfect for each other yet totally opposite.
Still why did he admit that he loved her when she was in a coma? Why did he stay by her side? Why did he risk his own life trying to wake her up? Why did his heart quickened whenever she was around? Why would his palms become sweaty when she smiled at him? No matter how much he would not admit that he was perfect for her, he was. In every way. No matter how long he would love her, he's love for her would continue to grow. He couldn't stop it. It was in him. He needed Melfina, loved her endlessly. He knew that she loved him too. But would he ever admit it? Only when his pride was gone, when things seemed hopeless. That hurt him-that he would only confess his love for her under dire circumstances-but that was him, that was the way he was. He just hoped that she would still be there to hear him say the words.
With a heavy sigh, Gene slowly climbed to his feet. He glanced at her momentarily before turning towards the door and walking towards it. A rustling behind him made him freeze in the dark threshold.
"Gene?"
It was Melfina. Trying to keep calm, he slowly swallowed and turned around to face the girl.
"Yeah?"
Uncertainty passed through Melfina's face as she looked at him and around the room. "Did I wake you?" she asked.
"No." He hid his smiled. How could she?
"Oh." A paused. "How did you find me?"
He shrugged. Lord, she was beautiful. But he was mindful not to let his eyes linger for too long. "I had a hunch that someone was in here. Are you going to sleep in here tonight?"
She nodded, drawling her knees against her chest. "I can't go back to my room tonight," she told him. "I start thinking in there."
"All right then." He turned to leave. "Good night then, Mel. See ya in the morning." The lying causality of his voice was like a punch to his stomach. He tried not to fall as his butt with the dizziness of his words, knowing that his act couldn't stay up forever. It hurt him more and more every day to act this way around her when all he wanted was to be with her.
"Gene?"
He slowly turned around. "Yeah? What is it, Mel?"
He watched her lower her eyes and clutched the blanket to her heart. She didn't speak for a moment and silence soon invaded the atmosphere. Gene shifted in the doorway. He wondered what she wanted. She looked as if she wanted to ask him something. But what? When she looked at him again, he saw the tears in her big brown eyes and pain in her pale face.
"I thought I heard you call," she whispered to him. "When I was in my coma, I thought I heard you taking to me."
He stiffened automatically at the sound of her voice and his mouth turned dry.
"You told me so many things about myself that I didn't even know you knew," she quickly explained. "You told me that you loved me, Gene. Is that true? I thought it was, everything seemed so clear, but with you acting to cold to me lately I must be wrong. Please, Gene, tell me what I should believe. Did you talk to me when I was in my coma?"
It was a perfect one-in-a-million chance to tell her, to tell her how much he loved her, how it was true that he had talked to her. It was a chance he let go. With a shake of his head he backed out of the living room. He could see the tears spilling out of her eyes and all he could do was smack himself. Yet he continued to let his feet move him out of the room.
"I was too business, Mel," he told her. "I didn't have time to visit you. I'm sorry. You must have been dreaming."
When the door closed, he could hear her crying on the other side. His heart broke and sunk into his stomach but he didn't know how to return to her. He knew he had wounded her heart with his cruel lies and fear of being tried but he didn't know what to do. On one hand he wanted to go back to her. On the other he was a scared man, terrified to love someone so deeply and so strongly. In short the scared man won and Gene returned to his room. Even though he cared for her he could not bring himself to return her love with his. He wasn't ready. If he had only known of the terrible journey ahead of him he wouldn't had been so afraid to call to her.
