Mechanical

by Pauline C. Harris

  “I didn’t tell him anything. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to,” Jessica went on. “But believe me, if you want I can totally yell at him for what he did to you.”

  I laughed half-heartedly.

  “Ugh. My brother is such a jerk,” Jessica declared.

  I sighed, feeling like I should contribute to the conversation, but at the same time, found nothing more to say. From what I’d heard, Jessica had pretty much summed it up.

  The memories of talking with Michael pushed their way to the surface of my mind, demanding my attention. When we had talked and everything I thought he had actually been a pretty good guy. A guy who liked me. A guy I could confide in—apparently not the type to go for android girls. Or, on the other hand, perhaps the type to go for two of them.

  * * * *

  I walked into my room and dumped my bag on the floor, still feeling angry and hurt about Michael, and even more upset about how I was handling it. As soon as I noticed Yvonne sitting a few feet away on the comforter, I headed for the door.

  “Drew,” she said, standing up.

  I kept walking.

  “Drew, I want to talk to you.” She hurried after me.

  “Well, you lost that privilege when you went after all the other various wants you have,” I snapped without even turning around. My anger and irritation bubbled inside of me and drove me to walk faster.

  “Drew, it’s important.” Yvonne’s voice sounded edgy, irritated, the tone she took on when she didn’t get what she wanted.

  “Maybe to you, but not to me.” I pushed open two double doors and headed into the private cafeteria for the creators.

  Yvonne stopped short, a disgusted look adorning her face as she looked around. I felt a surge of irritation to find that she still looked beautiful with such an unflattering expression. “Why are you even going here?”

  “I’ve noticed that I really like chocolate,” I decided to tell her. “It makes me feel good.”

  “And fat,” Yvonne added, following me towards the snack counter. “Ew,” she commented as I picked up a box of milk chocolates. “Anyway, as I was saying, this is important to you too. Maybe only to you,” she went on as if it could be nothing important if I were interested in it.

  “I doubt it,” I replied, popping a chocolate into my mouth. Unfortunately, it was the kind with the filling, the filling that I absolutely despised. I leaned over a garbage can and spit out the syrupy, maple-flavored goo.

  “I thought you liked them,” Yvonne stated, staring at me as though I was insane.

  “I don’t like the crème-filled ones.” I broke another one in two to make sure there was nothing inside it and popped it into my mouth. I looked up to see Yvonne watching me with a strange expression.

  “Okaaay. Whatever.”

  I turned and walked away.

  “Would you stop it?” Yvonne snapped, hurrying to catch up to me and was about to grab my arm before I stopped her with a steely glare. “I’m trying to tell you something.”

  “I don’t really want to talk to you. Especially now.”

  “But listen, we’re actually ...”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Yvonne,” I snapped, spinning around to face her. By now, we were out of the cafeteria and in the hallway, the walls on either side of us, holding us in, trapping us. “If this is your way of sneaking back into our friendship, it’s not going to work,” I told her. “Not right now.”

  Yvonne glared at me and I detected hurt buried deep within her anger. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” she retorted.

  I didn’t reply and just turned away, although I was seething inside.

  “He’s just a boy,” she called after me. “A human! Is he worth it?”

  I kept walking. Yvonne would never admit she was wrong. She would never say she was sorry. She would only make excuses. Excuses I didn’t want to hear.

  Her voice echoed throughout the hallway, but I didn’t hear any more of what she had to say because as soon as I turned the corner and was out of her sight, I started running.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Silence filled my ears like water, blocking out the noise from the outside world. It was completely quiet and still except for the double doors at the end of the hall swinging slowly back and forth. I stared, wishing to catch a glimpse between their swings, but seeing nothing as I watched them methodically moving until they slowed to a stop.

  I had just seen one of the other androids bring someone in. The person had been grabbed by the creators instantly and dragged, kicking and screaming through the doors at the end of the hall. The android had left right away, thinking nothing more about what he had done, but I still stood there, reliving the human’s fear, the creators’ determination, the android’s indifference.

  What were they doing? I felt like screaming. I walked forward, hearing my feet echo loudly and my pulse beat steadily to my footsteps, as if warning me of what awaited behind the doors. I stopped in front of the opaque windows. Whatever objects were stored behind it were distorted by the thick, murky glass. I stood there for a moment, thinking. I pressed my hand up against the window, feeling the cold of the glass seep through my skin and to the metal of my hand.

  They had always told us to never set foot behind these doors. That what went on back there was none of our business. And also, unlike the others things they would tell us, they were firm and sometimes mean about it. The androids would make up stories about the rooms behind these doors; where we came from, how we were made, secrets to our lives, the way our bodies worked, the truth about what we were. I knew most of the androids, if given the chance, wouldn’t dare go past. We didn’t want to find that we were just a simple pile of metal and artificial body parts. We’d rather pretend that we were more. No one went back here. We all knew it was forbidden.

  But right now, I realized, I didn’t care.

  I looked up at my hands planted firmly against the glass and pushed. The weight of the doors surprised me, but didn’t stop my pace. I walked into the silent hallway, hearing the doors swish behind me, whispering, hissing at me to go back to where I was supposed to be. In front of me stretched out a long corridor with multiple doors on both sides, and although the walls and doors were painted a blinding white, the hallway seemed empty and dark. I walked along slowly and cautiously, peering through the windows.

  Through one, I saw a long hallway of cells, almost like you’d see in an insane asylum. Inside the cells were people. They didn’t see me at first, but I noticed the girl who had just been brought in. She was lying on the floor of her cell, sobbing.

  Just then, as if she could tell someone was watching, she looked up. Her piercing gaze bore into me and I stepped back from the window, alarmed. What was she doing there? My hands were beginning to shake slightly and I stared down at them, shocked.

  I looked down the hallway and although every muscle in my body urged me to turn and run, I forced myself to walk to another door. I went towards its window, glancing around, as if a creator might be lurking behind one of the doors. I turned back and peered through the window, expecting to see more people, or mechanical parts, wires, and metal slabs. But as my gaze shifted to the center of the room, my breath caught in my throat and my chest constricted in horror.

  On a table, some sort of operating table, laid a boy. A human boy. I had seen him being brought in earlier that week. His arm, which was extended out across the table, was sliced open from his shoulder down to his wrist exposing blood, bones and ... wires?

  I let out a strangled cry of horror, backing quickly away from the door. I bumped into the wall behind me and doubled over, moaning and burying my head in my hands.

  There were no words going through my mind, just unbridled revulsion to what I had seen. What had I expected to find? I wasn’t sure ... but I knew this wasn’t it. Was he dead? I couldn’t be sure.

  Just then, I heard a door open and I looked up, adrenaline forcing me to my feet. I saw a creator at the end of the hallway—Glen.
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br />   He just stood there, staring at me for a moment. “Drew.” It wasn’t a greeting, or a question, or even an accusation. It was just ‘Drew’. A statement. “What are you doing here?” His voice hardened.

  “I ...” I couldn’t bring any words to my mouth. I was too horrified.

  “Leave.” His voice was glacial, his eyes glaring into mine.

  Immediately, I turned and ran, not wanting anything more than to be as far away from these rooms as possible. I had never run like that before in my life. I ran like my life depended on it, shoving the double doors open and not looking back. I heard them creak in protest and then start their swinging. My bare feet made strange slapping sounds on the linoleum floor of the hallway as I raced away.

  I didn’t want to be on the other side of those doors, ever. But hadn’t I once? The thought made me instantly sick to my stomach. I remembered the boy lying on the table, his arm cut open, the wires I had seen, the way he looked so helpless and almost dead.

  I ran into my room, throwing the door to the bathroom open and made it just in time as I collapsed beside the toilet seat and threw up.

  I wished I had never gone back there. I wished I had stopped after seeing the girl in her cell. I wished I hadn’t seen that boy. But those were wishes just as unrealistic as wishing for a normal life, to be away from the Institution. Wishing for a soul. If I hadn’t gone back there, I would never have forgiven myself. Curiosity would have haunted me forever.

  “Knowledge is power,” Yvonne used to say to me in her usual mind set of “power is everything.” Yes, maybe that was true. The more you knew the more powerful you were. It made sense. But the other part of the saying was just as true. Ignorance was definitely bliss.

  I had been okay with the way I was living. I had been okay with what I was. I had been okay with how I was treated. I had been okay with my situation.

  Until now.

  Because when I had looked at the body, face and arm of that boy lying on the table, a terrible reality dawned on me. They use them as templates. Yvonne’s words rang through my mind. I had never really thought about what that might mean. I had pictured those people in the back room with Glen, talking. How had I been so blind? From what I had seen of them afterwards I knew something hadn’t gone well ... but I had always thought of the creators taking information from them, draining things from their brains, extracting things from their minds ... not their bodies.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Are you puking?” Yvonne’s voice, edged with surprise and disgust, startled me as I noticed her figure in the doorway.

  I hurriedly got up from my spot on the floor and turned to face her. I wiped my mouth with a towel and flushed the toilet.

  “I told you that chocolate was a bad idea,” Yvonne lectured me matter-of-factly.

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t the chocolate.”

  “Lunch at school?”

  I shook my head again.

  “Whatever,” she went on. “I need to talk to you.”

  I groaned. “Again?” I left the bathroom. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable room for two. I walked into the bedroom and busied myself with picking out an outfit for the next day. “I thought I already told you, I don’t want to talk.”

  “This is important,” she replied as if that completely canceled out what I had just declared.

  “Just leave me alone for a little while,” I moaned. I hated to hurt Yvonne. Well, maybe it felt a little good but for the most part, it just made me feel bad. I didn’t like fighting, but I needed time. And an apology from Yvonne would help a lot, too, I admitted.

  I heard Yvonne’s typical irritated sigh. “Listen.”

  I shook my head, wishing she would leave before I ended up snapping at her.

  “No, it’s impor—”

  “Leave me alone,” I said louder this time and turned to leave the room, but caught sight of Yvonne’s face. Was that really hurt I saw conveyed in her eyes? I had to look twice to be sure. But by the time I glanced again the hurt had changed to anger. She glared at me until I shut the door as I left.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “His name is Jason Parker,” Glen had said earlier that day, handing me the papers, Jason’s smiling eyes staring up at me. Jason was in my grade and in a lot of my classes so hopefully this assignment wouldn’t be too hard. But I had purposefully doubled my workload. Not only did I have to trick Jason, but the creators as well. I was running out of ideas. And time.

  The image of the boy lying on the table popped into my head again and I thought about Jason. My plan was to let them take him back and I would sneak over once they were gone. They seemed to have taken the girl directly to a cell after they brought her in. I was counting on that same behavior with Jason. But if I was wrong he would end up like that boy on the operating table. I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t stand to let that happen.

  What I had witnessed also brought up some strange questions and I pushed the thoughts away for the moment. I had more important matters than that at hand.

  It was after school, I was out in the parking lot, Jason was walking my way and I had to think up something to say to him. He was walking closer, closer. He was walking by. Think! I told myself. “Uh ... Jason!” I called, determined not to let him get away.

  He stopped, looked around and then spotted me. “Oh, hi, Drew. You need something?”

  Think, think, think, think. “Uh ... is your house really in that direction?” I asked, trying to sound surprised.

  He gave me a weird look. “Uh, Yeah.”

  “Oh. Huh, well, why don’t you walk this way? I’m sure there’s a short cut back to your house once you walk far enough.” My voice sounded nervous. Ugh, shut up Drew, I told myself, knowing how stupid I sounded.

  He stared at me. “Um, no I’m fine.”

  “Well, I have no one to walk with ...” I smiled.

  He gave me a strange look. “You want me to walk with you,” he said slowly.

  I nodded. Wow. Throwing myself at a guy just so he could be attacked by my creators and then bailed out by me later? Great. No, actually pathetic.

  He stood there for a moment. “Don’t you have a boyfriend or something?”

  I frowned. “No.”

  “That Michael guy?” Jason asked. “Ring any bells?”

  Yes, it did, but I didn’t want to hear them. “No, we’re not dating. Never were,” I replied, striving to sound casual.

  “Oh.” Jason looked surprised. He smiled. “Well, in that case, I guess I could walk you home.”

  “Great.” I smiled and motioned him in the direction of the Institution.

  “So, you live close by?” he asked.

  “Not super close, but it’s not that far of a walk.”

  We traveled a ways, just talking about school while I tried desperately to sound enthusiastic and not mortified or anxious. Jason didn’t seem to notice though, thankfully.

  “Oh, by the way, I live in those condos,” I told him once the Institution was in eyesight.

  He looked over. “Huh, I never knew those were condos.”

  “Yep, they are.”

  We walked up the steps, but Jason stopped by the door, looking around. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said with a small smile.

  I stopped. Wait! No! He couldn’t leave yet. “Um ...”

  Jason started to turn away and my mind was spinning a hundred miles an hour. I cringed. No creators were coming, no androids were coming. I would have to do it on my own.

  I reached out and grabbed Jason firmly by the wrist. He turned to look at me, startled. “I’m sorry,” I said softly, before pulling him towards the door. Jason tried to yank away but then stopped, his eyes widening while I easily hauled him into the lobby.

  “Drew,” he started, still looking shocked. “What are you doing?”

  Just then, three creators emerged from the double doors, heading our way. Jason looked confused and took a few steps backward, but the creators were on him before I could blin
k. Jason yelled and struggled against them, but three strong men against a teenage boy didn’t leave much of a chance for him. They dragged him back behind the doors and it took all I had to just stand there and watch. You’ll get him later, you’ll get him later, I kept telling myself. I tried not to think about the boy on the table.

  I waited about an hour, hoping it was long enough, but not too long. I stood in the lobby for a while making sure I heard no footsteps in the corridor beyond the doors and after I was pretty sure no one was there, I ventured in again. It was hard walking back there. I couldn’t get the images of what I’d seen last time out of my head. The boy’s dark blood against his pale skin stood out in my mind, leaving a permanent stain. I stayed away from the door at the end of the hallway and focused on the one where the cells were. I walked up and sure enough, through the window I could see Jason sitting in one of the cells looking absolutely terrified.

  I turned the knob on the door only to find it was locked. Panic shot through me like a bullet. Of course it was locked. What had I been thinking? That this would actually be easy? I stood there staring at the doorknob, not knowing what to do. I couldn’t just let them hurt Jason. I needed to get him out.

  And that meant finding the key.

  I looked down at the end of the hallway to the door through which Glen had appeared. It led somewhere else, and I hadn’t had time to find out where. I started walking slowly towards it, dreading it more with each passing second. Once I was a few feet away, I stopped and listened carefully. I heard nothing, but that didn’t mean that no one was behind it. I pushed it open cautiously and walked through.

  Inside, the room was large with tables everywhere, although not the kind I had seen the other day. These tables were littered with books and papers. Dozens of sketches and pictures were pinned to the walls. But no one was in the room.