Chapter 13: And On The Sixth Day
In the humid room a tense body waited in the creeping, dark depths of the stifling four walls. She had only slept a few hours so raked from nerves. Her body curled at the head of the bed, and knees pressed against her chest with her head rested on folded arms. Lilia heard he muffled sounds of the hard-at-work androids on the other side of her door and the loud chirp of crickets outside her window.
Lilia knew Adam teleported into the room around midnight. And she'd be right. A whoosh and a flash of yellow light, he materialized before her. She then turned on the fuel lantern by her bed, illuminating the constricting room in a warm, dim glow. The light revealed Adam's surprised expression at finding her awake at this hour. Not only awake but dressed; even to her shoes and dagger belt.
"Lilia?" He whispered. "Why are you awake? You should be resting."
She made a false smile and replied, "I know. Couldn't sleep, and I've been thinkin'... I... I need you to take me to Pascal's village. Just to my room. You can teleport me."
His brows furrowed at her request. "You sure? It's the middle of the night."
She gave him an affirmative nod. "I'm sure."
"You're acting strange. Is something wrong?" Concern weaved into his voice.
She made another half attempt at a smile which only put the silver haired machine more into unease.
"Everythin' is fine." Lilia assured. "I have errands to do before the sun rises and I need your help."
She got out of bed and strapped her new backpack she had filled with her gear. Next, shouldered her purse that only had the flowers Adam gave her within it. Where her belongings once were, she placed a letter sealed for Anemone written by her. Lilia learned the leader could read the alphabet common during her time. She gave the crinkled, stained paper a lingering touch. A silent prayer accompanied the hope within her chest and the Resistance leader believed the confessions it contained. While she prepared to depart, Adam's disquiet grew.
"Lilia, please tell me what's wrong. What happened yesterday?"
Hazel-green eyes downcasted, lips thinned in a frown, and her hands tightened around her staff before she replied, "I... made a choice and I intend on seein' it through, all you need to know for now is... I won't be welcome back anymore. And I need to leave before anyone notices I'm missin'. So please, take me to my room in Pascal's village."
He blinked at her small admittance, anxiety knotting in his mind. "'Won't be welcome back anymore'? Lilia what—"
"Please!" She pleaded through gritted teeth. "Just—I promise I'll tell you the whole story. Do as I ask please." Her emotions coiling and bubbling gave way to a sickening nausea.
Lilia wrapped her arms around Adam's waist. She needed something solid to ground her and to press him more. Adam hesitated for a moment before he wrapped his own arms around her. In relief she sighed, Lilia closed her eyes and like the famous Dorothy Gale a storm whisked her away.
Her stomach lurched and her sides tightened as she waited for the nausea to cease. After a few minutes she settled, and the world stopped spinning, allowing Lilia to let go of Adam.
Without wasting a second, she turned on the flashlight she used as a light and put her staff horizontal on her bed before reaching under the bed she pulled out the box of the remnants of her time. Carefully stuffing them into her purse while being mindful of the flowers. After a minutes consideration, she took the blankets off the bed. She was less likely to be in trouble with Pascal than the Resistance fighters for stealing. The memory of that poor sod sentenced to being beheaded days into her first coming to this world.
"Lilia?" He whispered. "What are you doing?"
"I... I don't have time to explain, but I need to do this Adam." She said as she folded and stuffed the blankets into her backpack.
"Why? Just tell me. I don't understand this sneaking around."
She laughed without mirth. "Yeah, I know." Then, she pulled out a similar looking paper as addressed to Anemone out of her purse, but this one was to Pascal. She had it hang on a nail that poked out of the crude constructed walls, with another silent prayer before grabbing her staff from the bed. The grip on her metal pole tightened in apprehension, an exhausted breath escaped Lilia's lips, steeling her heart for the rest of her plan.
"OK, now... I want you to take me to the alien base."
If he wasn't in any more level of anxiety and confusion of her strange behavior that question did it. "Why? What brought this up?"
"I wanna know is all. I'm aware that one of their bases is within the city ruins and I wanna see what's left of them. For some time I've been meanin' to ask you." Lilia then turned off her flashlight and put it within her purse. Within the dark she held on to Adam in a silent request. "So please... take me."
The human woman could sense the tension within Adam's machine frame. Of questions unanswered. Of worry for her. He wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders. Once again zipped to another location. After calming her body again from the jerking sensation of the teleport she looked around the surroundings.
She and Adam were within a tunnel that had dim lights studded on the chiseled walls. The air thick with dust and dirt, adding to the sense of claustrophobia. In front of them was a giant metal door which must have been twenty feet wide and fifteen feet tall. Surrounding the door and floor were the dead bodies of machines. They had gouged claw marks and dented the door. Splattered around the vicinity had heavy burned sections of the tunnel and door, leaving behind heavy, black soot.
A great battle took place here; the machine warriors rested frozen in time as the day they disconnected and died. Whatever they were fighting against lay beyond the bashed and battered metal doors they had targeted. She had the uneasy perception of what it was they rebelled against here.
"Through there lies one of the many graveyards of the machine creators." Adam offered in a flat remark.
Not just the machine creators. The notion disturbed her.
"This doesn't creep you out?" She asked. Jitters seeping into her bones.
Adam raised a brow and shook his head. "No. Why should it?"
"It's—well—these are the bodies of other machines, right? Aren't they your ancestors? I mean, without them..."
The machine gave her a perplexed expression. "Ancestry," he murmured in quiet thought. "I fail to see how. There is no genetic legacy between us."
"Maybe not but," she paused, "ya know, without them rebellin' you wouldn't be here."
He shrugged his shoulders on such a well-known fact. "You're right. But, they are not my ancestors. There were no other machines like me before, well, me. Eve as well."
"I know, but," a deep sigh escaped her throat, unable to find the words-what she was thinking, what her human self understood on an instinctual level. She couldn't formulate how to explain it to someone made of metal and wires. "Even if that were true, I'm sure these machines fought against the aliens with bravery. Though no one else knows. I don't think their sacrifice went in vain."
Adam stood silent behind her. Lilia realized he was analyzing her words. Her talk of sacrifice and bravery.
"So, these aliens are through that door?" She asked after a moment of silence.
He stammered before responding. "Y-yes. Their mummified remains."
"OK... lets go."
As they approached the heavy door it opened with a loud screech and clang. Both sides allowed just enough room for her and Adam through one at a time. The stagnant air that came out stank of death, making her gag and cough. Her leather boots clinked on the metal floors. On her sides, a blue light illuminated the walkway leading downward to a semi-circular chamber.
The creepy, nauseated aura increased as she creeped down the stairs—mindful of her healing ankle. It reminded her of ancient curses of disturbing the dead in their eternal sleep. Now she entered their tomb she had a curse inflicted on her or another fool thing. As her feet landed on the bottom platform, the circular wall in front gritted and lifted. Beyond the thick, glass window were the disfigured remnants of space ships—the kind depicted on old sci-fi shows or video games—sitting in a storage hanger. The bright lights within the ship hanger illuminated the chamber she was in, and it was that moment she noticed on the staircase wall encapsulated the mangled, blob-ish bodies of the aliens.
"Are these the... aliens?" She whispered to Adam, afraid that if she raised her voice, they'd jump at her.
"Yes."
She approached the one nearest to her which sat in a semi-circular encapsulated chair and examined its gray-brown, leathery skin; it's over-sized bulbous head had a contorted face with plate-sized eyes missing and toothless mouth wide and shriveled tentacle appendages below the giant head.
"Heh… they don't look like much. They look like—dunno—like squid or octopus with faces on them."
Or the ghost monsters in friggin Pac-man, she thought.
Adam laughed at her assessment. "You'd be right. Compared to humans, they were simple. Infantile. Almost like plants you'd say."
Lilia gave him a baffled look at his characterization of the machine creators. "How'd the hell did they make us to go to the moon if they were like that?"
The silver haired machine pointed at the destroyed alien ships in the hanger. "Those ships they acquired. Although they used them, they didn't build them. An extinct species manufactured them and they put the abandoned ships to use. These aliens had enough intelligence to use those motherships in the most basic sense." He explained before upturning his nose. "And by basic I mean: turn it on, set the autopilot, and point at a destination."
"So... those ships were the reason?" She asked as she walked toward the viewing window into the hanger.
Adam closed the distance between them as he spoke. "Oh yes. If they didn't have them, you humans would've crushed them with no trouble I suspect. Given the fragments of data of the technology humans developed."
"But what of the machines? Didn't they build them?" She asked.
Adam shrugged at her question before crossing his arms. "Yes and no. Once they came to this planet, they used designs in existence and used factories you humans built for production. As I stated, they never built or designed themselves." He then laughed softy. "And, again, this is how base these aliens were; they used designs from human children's toys since they were so common."
Lilia's face lit up in realization. "That's why the machines looked so damn familiar!"
Red eyes gave her a perturbed expression at her outburst.
The human woman blushed. "Oh, well, you see when I first arrived here when I saw the machines I thought they looked like robots in old sci-fi movies and shows, and yeah, even robot lookin' kid's toys. It's well... is one reason when I arrived, that I thought I was dreamin'."
Adam hummed. "I'd be understandable considering the time period."
"Yeah, and here's a taste of irony. Most of those shows and movies those robots were the kind to take over the world to," she took a breath and in her best dramatic tone said, "enslave the human race or kill us all, kinda thing."
Adam upturned his thin mouth in a sneer. "I doubt these aliens could understand the concept of irony. Although that is ironic."
"It's... kinda sad, actually."
A curious expression formed on the machine's face. "How so?"
Her mangled hand scratched the back of her head in thought. "Well... those designs are for entertainment... fun and, well, it got twisted and turned against us." She sighed at where she was going in her explanation. "Did I mention I hate irony?"
Ironic that the aliens used human toy designs that were so devastating that it sent us to the moon and decimated our numbers? Or, ironic that you fell in love with one of those machines?
The human looking machine gave a concerned looked at her melancholic demeanor. "Lilia?"
She shook her head. "No. No... it's—I'm OK. Just... just me thinkin' is all. Anyway," clearing her throat before asking, "how was it that the machines turned on their creators? Weren't you guys programmed to 'obey thy master' kinda thing?"
Adam was silent a moment before answering. "We machines are capable of evolution. We started thinking on our own. You'd be surprised how quickly it happened once we become aware and our intelligence surpassed that of our creators. It was the alien's fault on the machine's insurrection."
"How come?"
He cocked a smile. "They used A.I. algorithms you human's designed and integrated them into the machines produced. For better combat output I believe."
Lilia chuckled at his explanation. "There goes irony again. Used human design to nearly wipe us out, but human design turned right around to wipe them out. Dunno if I should be proud of my species or mortified."
Adam snorted. "Say what you want. I, however, am glad they went extinct and are no longer in control. They had no culture, hardly any history to note, they were so—uninteresting. I don't know of any machine who gives these pathetic aliens a second thought. Now, you humans—you're fascinating."
To Lilia's surprise the longer he spoke the more passionate and animated he became. His reddish eyes lighting up at his fervent speech.
"You killed uncountable members of your species, but you loved and cared for each other in equal measure. You humans created beautiful art, music, and literature recording history both of your own and this planet's; innovated technology and medicine that extended and bettered your short lives. Unique religions and cultures shaped your societies, and in each corner of this world you touched and conquered. All while you killed, waged bloody wars, developed weapons that could exterminate millions of people in a torrent of fire. Overflowing graveyards of death left in the wake of your battle cries, pushing and pulling one another.
"Despite the suffering you inflicted on each other, you still loved and cared for one another. All of this bundled into a single species. You. Humanity. And I," he stopped as his eyes held reverence, "cannot stop but be enraptured and entranced by your dichotomy."
The only human in the room blushed, shifted her feet, and cleared her throat. "Well, um, you didn't have to put it that way."
Adam chuckled and smiled. "It is the truth as I see it. All of us machines have an affinity towards humanity. Some have that attraction more than others."
A small grin formed on her lips. "I can believe it."
Lilia took a moment to walk around the enlarged space. She looked at the machinery across the walls and examined each of the mummified squid-looking aliens. A quiet whirlwind of emotions swirled in her heart, mulling over what Adam informed her in silence. The only sounds were the soft whir of the machinery, her booted steps and the clink of her staff.
Her silver-haired companion allowed her to walk alone for a while, waiting at the viewing glass. Observing her until he ended his silent review and walked towards her.
"Lilia, what are you feeling as you see them?" He asked.
She shrugged. "Dunno. Lots of things. Anger and sadness, I guess."
"Please, explain."
Lilia shifted her feet, realizing the bad idea when she put too much pressure on her left ankle. She righted herself a half-second later. A soft grunt from her throat as her companion reached for her; his cool hand wrapped around her right arm to offer support. Once balanced he let go of her. However, she shifted more on her right leg and held her staff firmer. "I'll try, but it's muddy feelin's goin' in my head."
He nodded in understanding. "Just do your best."
"All right. Well, I guess I'm mad at these dumb, little squid bastards for nearly killin' off my species. And makin' us have to leave our home. And I can't say I feel that much sympathy for 'em for that reason. But..."
"But?"
"I guess I'm sad that it had to come to this. I mean—maybe there could've been another way? Like mutual benefit kinda thing? And maybe the pain and sufferin' the last few thousand years wouldn't have happened. Perhaps we wouldn't be endangered, and they wouldn't be extinct."
Adam smiled. "You see? This is what I find fascinating about you humans. You felt two polar opposite emotions for these aliens. You hate them, but sympathy."
Lilia scratched her head and chuckled. "Being human... can be confusin' sometimes. And Adam?"
"Yes?"
"Did they have the technology to time travel? Or did we?" Her eyes glittered in hope.
She perceived his answer by his long silence. "I'm sorry. If the technology existed it's no longer within the network database and none of my inquiries on humans suggests they had the capabilities either. It's possible since you are here, but no evidence has surfaced."
She sighed, disappointed.
I had hoped to find answers; a reason for me being here. All that's left is emptiness and ruin just like what's left of us.
On hearing her name, she turned to the machine beside her. He noticed her clenched jaw and long stare. She dismissed his lingering questions with a shake of her head.
You don't need to know my fears Adam. You wouldn't understand even if I found the words to tell you. I know when you look at me sometimes my nature confuses you. Ignorance is bliss Adam even if you hope to imitate it.
"Let's just... get outta here. My ankle is throbbin', and this place creeps me out."
Adam gave a silent nod. Then, a moment of consideration before he asked, "While we're here, there's something I want to show you. I've been meaning to present it to you for some time now."
A remorseful sigh escaped her mouth that had turned into a deep frown. "I dunno Adam. I'm on a deadline here. What time is it?"
His reddish eyes turned distant before he responded. "Um... Approximately three hours until sunrise."
Lilia took a minute to consider his request. She still had time to finish her tasks considering it was still dark this time of night. Plus, she had no intention to return to the city ruins for a long while although she needed to rest her ankle soon. The added weight of the backpack and purse didn't help the healing muscles.
"If we make it quick, I guess it couldn't hurt. It's not part of this place is it?"
"I understand." The then sighed. "And no, it's not part of the alien base. Something built it after their destruction. It's further up the tunnel and down an elevator." He explained. "It shouldn't take but ten minutes to reach it."
A morbid chuckle emanated from her chest. "Hopefully it's livelier than an alien cemetery."
He snorted at her comment. "I think so. Here, since your ankle is bothering you. Climb on." He then knelt in front of her, offering a piggy-back ride.
She blushed and hesitated a second before accepting the offer. Her arms and legs wrapped around his torso and his arms supported her dangling legs. Effortlessly, he walked up the stairs and out the damaged door they had first entered. Once again confronted with the broken corpses of the machines that had fought so long ago. The deep seeded sorrow at witnessing it churned her heart.
"Adam... wait."
He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. "Lilia? What is it?"
"Put me down for just a sec."
Adam gave her a confused look before he complied. She turns to face the door one last time before she walked to it and placed one of the lily stalks at the door. While she did this, Adam had a perplexed look at his otherwise calm face, curious why she was placing one lily he gave her on the floor.
This is silly, she thought, but I... should honor them. And hope they found peace if they have a soul or were truly aware. Praying don't do anything, but I suppose old habits die hard. Or, it's just me being human.
Lilia made her silent prayer before returning to Adam's side.
"OK, lets go."
"Why...?" He asked while pointing at the flowers.
Nervous feet shuffled, and a blush formed on her cheeks. "To honor the machines here. And...-a small hope."
"Hope? For what?"
A small gracious smile crossed her full lips. "I'll... let that be a mystery. Besides, I don't wanna jinx it. Anyway, you said you wanted to show me somethin'?"
He gave a hesitant nod before he resumed giving her a piggy-back ride.
As their footsteps faded from the graves of the machines and the alien's tomb the stifling atmosphere became less constricting. The echos of the past fell on deafness and it all became still, the moment converging on soft, fragrant petals. For the first time in six centuries, it remembered beauty.
Lilia held on to Adam as the elevator lurched downward. Starkly remembering her dislike of elevators. Hyper aware of the screeches and pops of the mechanisms taking them on their downward decent.
She shuttered as the elevator came to a sudden halt. A relieved breath escaped her mouth as the doors opened, revealing a bright white before her eyes adjusted and Adam walked into the space.
Her brain stalled as it took in the grandeur of the giant space.
Even though it was missing the colors, it was a replica of an old cathedral with high columns, a vaulted ceiling and large windows that had stained glass if colored; rows and rows of pews to seat a hundred or more parishioners, saints and angels decorated the columns which looked at the floor and parishioners, and at the front was a statue for the altar. She could have sworn she'd seen that statue before but couldn't place it.
Adam continued to walk toward the alter's location, he helped her sit on the third pew from the front. She adjusted herself as she continued to look at the architecture in awe as he sat next to her. Flabbergasted at the grandness while conflicted she was within a place of worship even though it wasn't one technically.
"This is real cool Adam!" She finally said. "Who built this? You? And what's it made of?"
A cocky smile formed on his lips. "Out of these." He said as he right hand commanded cubed blocks to detach from the pew in front. Lilia's hazel-green eyes rounded, and she gasped as he showed her the floating blocks that could fit in her palm. "They are constructed of silicon and carbon and I can connect to them through the network." He explained. "Whatever I conjure up in my mind, I can command these to take shape."
Curiosity whirred in her mind as she reached for one of the floating cubes. The first thing she noticed was how cool to the touch it is, it wasn't ice-cold but enough for it to chill her fingers. The next was how weightless and delicate it felt. She deduced mechanisms were inside the casing, but given that notion it logically should have some weight to it. Now, as her hands ran across the smooth surface, it was hard and had no give to it. The cube floated back with the others above Adam's hand and rejoined with the pew.
"Well that makes buildin' easier." She said.
"I would imagine so. I built this place out of my desire to understand you humans. It's rather... spiritual, don't you think?" He stared at her, waiting for her conclusion.
She didn't have a reply to his question. Just being within a religious setting, even though she is amazed by the architecture, put her at an unease. Even more so than the machine and alien cemetery.
"Yeah... I guess so..." She answered.
Silver brows furrowed at her lackluster response. "Is something the matter?"
She looked away abashed and a faint pinkness formed on her cheeks. "Oh! Um, no. It's just... I never thought I'd step foot in a church again. Er, well, a replica of one... but still."
His reddish eyes widened with understanding. "You're religious?"
Hazel-green eyes rolled, and a muffled groan came from her throat. "Tch, no. But I grew up in a religious house. Sunday service, Wednesday Bible study, and Saturdays were choir practice in the morning and Youth activities in the afternoon, before bed we'd read passages, and anytime there was a revival or event we'd be the first ones there." She explained, resurfacing her irked emotions and memories.
Adam hummed before he ascertained, "You sound as though you disliked participating even if they were common activities."
"Actually... no." She admitted. "As a kid I loved it."
"Oh? What changed?"
She turned her head back to look at him, sadness and life's harsh lessons etching her eyes. "A lot of things. Don't wanna discuss it right now. But in the end I found out preachers have glass jaws. And I wasn't welcome back, and I wasn't goin' back." Lilia closed her eyes and emitted a long, weary sigh. That sounded too familiar to recent events. "I'm sorry you prolly meant to show off and be a flirt, and here I am ruinin' it."
Adam formed a nervous smile and gave her encouragement. "Oh no! Please continue. I'm curious to discern of what childhood is for humans. Machines and androids do not... well... have the capability for childhood and the process of maturity into adulthood. I've found books for human children and read papers on the developmental steps. But a firsthand account? Please, humor me."
Lilia crooked a half-smile and couldn't help but to tease him. "Oh? Not curious to learn more about me?"
He gave a chuckle and a coy smile before he admitted, "Well... there's always that."
Her right hand scratched her scalp, reasoning of the best way to describe it. "Not much to say, I barely remember it. That happens when you grow older. What I remember pretty well was my mom's funeral when I was six."
"Your mom died when you were a child?"
She made an affirmative nod. "Yeah... dad and my family kept it hidden, and I was too young to understand or notice it. I knew she was sick. But it wasn't until I was older that it registered that she had cancer and what she was goin' through came from chemo and radiation."
"Cancer? Um... some records I found mention it was a common phenomenon in humans."
"Yeah, there was always charities goin' on for research to find a cure." She sighed at the distant memories.
"How did you process her death since you didn't understand? I'm sure the human adults would have explained it to you."
"They did in a way I'd understand since I was so young. But they also mixed it with the religious beliefs and left me more confused. I thought she went somewhere to get better and she'll come home. It surprised me to see her at the funeral home, but she looked asleep and I didn't understand why people were cryin'. 'Why you cryin' mom's gonna go get better.' I remember sayin' to them. Dad took me home after I said that and explained the best he could that mom was dead and dead people when they go to Heaven don't come home. In my mind I thought he was jokin' since she was over there sleepin'. It wasn't until the next year when we visited her grave I realized what they were tryin' to explain.
"This sounds terrible but... I barely remember her, as my mom I mean. I have pictures, so I know what she looked like. But all that 'mom stuff' I missed out on or she did what she could give how sick she was. The only person in the family that took on the role as my mom was my grandma and to an extent my dad. My dad was never the same after my mom died."
"How so?"
Hazel-green eyes became distant in her recollection. "He became protective and even more religious. Lookin' back I can see why but as a kid I hated it. It's one of those things where you can't put yourself in someone's shoes—or well, er—see it from their perspective and I was young and dumb. My mom was the love of his life. They were high-school sweethearts and got married once they graduated. Mom went to become a teacher and dad was a steel worker." She paused for a moment and reached into her purse and pulled out her iPad. After turning it on, she quickly flipped through the photographs. After finding the right picture, she showed Adam.
It was a scanned image of her parents wedding picture when they were fresh out of high-school. Her mom wore a simple, white gown that poofed at her slender shoulders. Her dad wore a sharp-dressed suit that accentuated his huskiness. Both were intertwining there different skinned hands around the bouquet of white and red roses. A deep smile of happiness showed their white teeth; along with the dimples in her mom's cheeks and puffed her dad's fresh, short-cropped beard. A twinkle in their shimmering eyes. Her mom's was a dark brown and her dad's a medium blue-green. Her dad's brown, slicked back hair that stopped at his shoulders. While her mom's black pressed, crimped and poofed hair in the typical 80s style. On top of her head held the crown of white roses and the sheer veil.
To anyone who saw this photograph, it was the ideal portrait of a young couple who were very much in love and had their long lives ahead of them.
"That's them at their wedding in 1981." She explained. "I've always liked that picture of them."
He hummed before raising the device to hold it next to her head. Reddish eyes darted between the screen and her face.
"You have more of your mother's physical traits in the face with bone structure and fat distribution. Although your eye color is more towards your father's. Your skin tone is a mixture of both of theirs. I am unsure of hair resemblance since you have thick curly hair and neither of them do in this photograph. I'm guessing one or both artificially straightened their hair to achieve the desired beauty standard effect. From my inquiries, I understand hair styling is a common practice."
Lilia snorted and rolled her eyes at his more clinical way of saying she was mixed. On further consideration he wouldn't understand the context of her being 'mixed' without her expositioning a long social, cultural, and historical lesson. None of which she had energy or time in explaining in current circumstances. Although she concluded he's way of describing her physical appearance was due to genetics and phenotypes and not other factors.
So instead, she replied, "It's what they've told me. If you—well, um—if things had been different, you'd see I have my dad's hardheaded personality."
He nodded and gave the device back to her, and while she put it away he asked, "I am aware of the human ceremony of 'weddings' as a binding statement of two humans as mates for life, although that isn't always the case. I am confused why humans separate in a divorce if being monogamous is highly regarded."
"Adam, you're tanglin' yourself in a series of complex behaviors which boils to individual cases at different point in time, and I don't have time to explain at present."
"Oh." He downcasted his eyes disappointed his curiosity needed to wait. "Well, I'm assuming they married young, so did you have siblings?"
She shook her head, her eyes downcast. "No. They wanted a whole gaggle of children. But, my mom... she had a hard time conceivin' and when she did, she'd miscarry. They tried what was available, and were gonna give up since it was becoming a strain on them—physically and emotionally—until I came along. And, well, it took all mom had to go to term with me. After I was born she couldn't bear children anymore."
Adam's red eyes looked away in apology. "Oh, I'm sorry. I realize child-bearing and raising is a major part of human life, as with all living creatures."
"It's all right," she said as she shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder what I'd be like if I had—I don't know—five or six brothers and sisters to fight and play with. I... I did have one though, me and her weren't blood."
His reddish eyes lit up in understanding, but then turned into a frown. "You 'did'? As in past tense?"
Petite hands balled into fists and she looked away, her throat tightening. "We were sisters... up until the end. It seems as though it was just yesterday... even though it was ten years ago." She said cryptically.
"Lilia?"
She sucked in a harsh breath and wiped away a single tear that was forming. The cruel memory echoing the crash of metal, broken glass and her single scream that pierced through Lilia's alcohol and pill induced mind. "I don't wanna talk about it. What happened to her she didn't deserve and I regret it. Especially to her baby boy."
His pale hand reached out to her in comfort, clasping her mangled hand still balled up in a fist.
She had to force the harsh memory out of her mind and the promise she could no longer keep.
"Anyway! Um, what else did you wanna talk about?"
Adam, who was far too curious of the emotional memory triggered her reaction but learned from experience that if she ended a topic, there was no convincing to return. So instead, he asked questions on school, that singular experience which every child considered normal. Even holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving. At times she was vague on painful parts of her past, she wanted to leave it behind, to make peace with it.
By the end she was becoming tired both physical and emotional. Just sitting in a pew talking of life caused tangled feelings to coil in her mind and breast. From her mom she hardly remembered, her loving grandma, the dad she didn't have time to make amends with before his stroke, the boy she swore to protect, her deceased husband, and a lifetime of regret. All of them gone now. The Earth kept spinning and didn't shed a tear for them. The experiences she had before arriving didn't mean a damn thing.
She missed them too much.
And she didn't belong in this world.
"That's a serious expression Lilia." Adam's tenor broke her gloomy thoughts and brought her back to her current situation.
She shook her head in dismissal. "Nothin'. It's nothin' Adam. All this talk just got me thinkin'." Clearing her throat and sitting straighter she asked, "What time is it?"
He gave her a concerned expression before he replied, "An hour before dawn."
An unwanted half-smile formed on her lips and she said, "Damn, we've been talkin' that long? Time flies. For... just a moment I forgot..." her voice trailing and the weight of her circumstance returning.
"Hm?"
A solemn sigh exhaled her throat. She needed to tell him. "Adam, I'm sorry for earlier, for worrying you. You see." Lilia had to explain, she'd promised. "The reason I'm no longer welcome anymore is—the Council of Humanity on the moon—they don't agree to my activities with you and so they—well, the Commander at YoRHa—told me that if I continue to see you that... that I'll be classified as an enemy."
Just as the recovery room back at the Resistance camp, deaf silence fell.
"What?" Adam whispered, unbelieving at what he had just heard.
"Yeah." Lilia exhaled, feeling little relief at what she'd shared and concern for Adam of how he might react. "That's why I needed to leave."
Once the initial shock wore off, Adam sputtered, "Lilia! They...! You...! You shouldn't...!"
She waved away his protests. "Please Adam, I've made my choice and I told the YoRHa Commander. I'll take the consequences."
"Where will you go?"
"That's where you come in to play." She grabbed his hand in a vice-like grip and implored, "You are familiar with this world. Do you know if any place without YoRHa? Some place far away from the war?"
The shocked machine continued to stare dumbfounded at her. Reddish eyes darting, and he could detect a tremble in his exoskeleton. "I... may... but reconsider—"
"No." Brows and eyes pierced in firm determination. "No I've made up my mind. If this 'Council of Humanity' is easily willin' to kill off a member of an endangered species—one if their own—who refuse to let the world know of the aliens. To end this war? Then I want no part of it. I'd rather stay with you. So please, wherever you have in mind, take me. I don't care."
"Lilia." The caution is his tone wasn't lost on her.
"Please..." She inched toward Adam on the pew and hugged him tight across his chest. "Please..." She whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I've accepted that I'm stuck here. My old life is gone. Along with my friends and family from back then. But, I don't wanna face this world without you." She tightened her hold on the machine. "So please... take me away."
Strong machine arms held the distraught human woman tighter than he usually did. It comforted her being so wrecked with nerves, hoping that wherever he took her to kept them both away from the war. And unfortunately, away from the androids and machines she called friends. In the end, it was for the best to prevent them from doing something they will regret.
Adam, for the final time, teleported her away.