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If she’d expected him to react to her question, then evidently, she’d expected too much because, as usual, he tackled it head on.
“Reproduction,” Kent replied. “You want to know if my ...” He halted. “If I call it by name, is that wrong?”
Lexie giggled a bit. “Let’s just agree I know what you mean and move on.”
He dipped his chin. “I am a working male in all respects, but lacking any ability to recreate myself.”
The weight hanging around her neck choked her, her throat closing tight.
Of course, they would do that – they, whoever created him. They wouldn’t want to risk his kind making more of themselves willy-nilly.
“You’re upset,” he said.
She gave him a weak smile. “It seems sad to me. Some people never have children, of course, and others want to, but can’t. Their ... you know ... doesn’t work correctly.”
Kent made no acknowledgement of this remark one way or the other.
“But everyone should have the right.”
“Why?”
She blinked. Why should people be able to have children? To answer that, he’d have to understand what a parent was, but how did she give him that? He had no parents, and therefore, nothing to work with.
She pushed to her feet. “We need to take a trip.”
“A trip?”
She grasped his hand and tugged him to his feet. “I want to show you something. You can add it to your human education.” She made two steps, dragging him behind her, then halted and twisted around. “I’m not entirely convinced that your mysterious ‘they’ sent you here. Okay, maybe they did, but there was a greater hand behind it.”
Fine lines formed on his brow.
“God,” she explained. “God sent you here. He’s bigger and smarter than anything a human can ever create, cyborgs included, and it could be He has plans for you and you need to know all this.”
She stared at him a moment longer. Or plans for them. That thought spread within her like warm oil. What if God sent him here for her? God’s plans were higher than man’s. So what, Kent was part machine, whatever that meant, and she didn’t begin to understand it. He was also part human, and deep within his cells remained that breath of life that no man could ever create. If Kent could tap into that, it seemed like he could become exactly what God wanted him to be. Not what man wanted him to be.
She returned her face forward and dragged him indoors. Bidding him to wait in the hall, she knocked on Father Royce’s door, at his response, poking her head inside. “I have to run an errand,” she said, “and I’m taking Kent with me. Will you be all right?”
He smiled at her from his easy chair, his feet propped. “I’m fine.”
The danger Kent had mentioned rose in her mind.
“You’ll stay in here? If the doorbell rings, just let it, and keep your phone close.”
Father Royce chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Offering him a friendly smile, she reversed. “Okay. We’ll lock the doors, so he’s safe, and make this quick.”
“Where are we going?” Kent asked, on their way out of the house.
Unlocking her car, she waved him in, and he obeyed, putting on his seatbelt. She reversed out of the driveway and into the street.
“We’re going to observe some parents,” she said, “and we’ll start at the hospital.”
“They’re sick?” he asked.
She smiled. “No. Newborns. We’re going to see what children look like when they first arrive.”
653 stared through thick panes of glass at a line of baby bassinets, mystified. “They’re so small.” He’d expected that. After all, he’d been small once. Yet—
A baby in the bassinet directly in front of him let out a squall. With his accelerated hearing, it pierced his eardrums, and he winced. The noise he hadn’t expected.
“Do they always cry like that?” he asked.
Lexie seemed perplexed by his question. “Babies cry, yes. It’s the only way they know how to communicate.” Her expression became long. “Don’t tell me ... you ... you didn’t cry?”
He shrugged. “It serves no purpose.”
“No pur ...” She tossed one hand to her waist. “It’s a perfectly normal way to behave, especially for an infant. Look at that couple.” She nodded toward a young couple who’d entered the neonatal unit. The mother, her eyes moist, sat in a chair in front of bassinette. A nurse lifted the baby out, placing him in her arms.
653 watched closely. The mother was crying. However, the baby was now happy. Nuzzling at her blouse, he gave a tiny squeak, and she bared her breast, a look of contentment on her face. Her eyes closed. The father, standing overhead, laid his hand on her shoulder.
It was ... sweet. Why hadn’t his creators thought he needed that? They’d never held him, never looked at him that way that he could recall. He’d been one a line of boys, all the same age, same height, same appearance, with only minute human differences, sleeping in matching beds, taking lessons together. All of them equal in intelligence. No emotion needed to be involved. Not even when they’d inserted the machine. He’d felt nothing. No pain. No elation. It was simply a part of who he was.
Lexie’s hand warmed on his arm, and he looked down at her. His saying he couldn’t have children had upset her. He’d wondered why only briefly then realized it was because it mattered to her personally. She wanted children. She wanted to be in love. Therefore, the fact he didn’t understand either one upset her.
“No purpose to my creators,” he said. “To be emotional would allow for weakness, but they wanted me strong, so I can focus on a task and perform it without distractions. Feelings are a distraction. I’ve learned this already.”
“Good,” she replied. “Because I have a theory.”
“A theory?”
“Yes, and come with me. There’s another place we need to go.”
He followed her back to the car. She drove a few blocks, parking outside a children’s playground. He took a seat on a bench at her side.
There were several mothers and fathers there with children ranging in age from four to about eight. Clambering over various objects placed around the yard, the children laughed and giggled, and argued quite a bit. It was a good observation of emotion. Children, he learned while sitting there, were more volatile than adults, the boys less inclined to cry, unless very young, the girls crying a lot.
One little boy tossed a rubber ball, which rolled to his feet. 653 bent over and picked it up, extending it.
The boy took it, cautiously, tucking it to his chest, but stood in place. His mother came for him. Casting them a wary look, she dragged the boy away.
“He looks like her,” 653 said.
Lexie nodded. “Yes, that’s what happens. But look at them now.”
The mother turned her son toward her, her lips moving rapidly.
“Why is she scolding him for talking to us? I am not a pervert.”
Lexie looked up. “You can hear her?”
“Yes. Do I look like one to you?”
She took his hand. “No. But his mother doesn’t know that, and there are bad people in the world who’d hurt children.”
He knew this was true, but he’d never understood why anyone would want to hurt a child. In his sterile world, it was unthinkable. “That’s why it’s good to not have emotions,” he said. “People without them won’t do bad things.”
Lexie puckered. “That might be true, but then you won’t have the good side either ... the joys of childhood, knowing your mom or dad is there for you no matter what, having someone to turn to when you need anything at all. That’s ideal. I know that. Many kids don’t have that. But for a couple to fall in love, marry, and have a baby is the fulfillment of their time together. Can’t you see that?”
He gazed down at their hands, her fingers folded into his. When had she done that? And why did he like it?
“You want this, and so it upsets you that I don’t,” he said.
“You ‘don’t’ only because you lack understanding. They’ve taken that away from you.”
653 stood to his feet, pulling his hand free, and strode away from the playground. Facing a large, open field of grass, he came to a stop. She appeared at his side.
“You want me to be unhappy with who I am,” he said.
She circled to a place in front of him, her delicate face turned upward, and the sun created a halo with her hair. “I want you to try to be more than what they’ve said you can.”
“Why?” he asked. “Why should I go against the system? To whose benefit is that? It won’t help Father Royce. I am here to protect him, and that’s all. Not solve anything or find who’s behind it. I’m simply to flex my arms when needed.”
Her lips downturned. “That’s a cop out. They may have sent you here for that, but God sent you here for something greater. I’m sure of it now. God wants you to seek to become what He’s chosen, not somebody in a lab coat. You’re more than a machine.”
“Again, why?”
With her fingers, she traced the lines of the muscles beneath his shirt. It was strangely appealing, her doing that, made him want to know, again, what it’d be like to see her naked. She paused her hand at the base of his neck and raised her lips to his.
The hunger returned, that same insatiable sensation that he couldn’t contain. Dipping his tongue between her lips, he indulged himself, and drew her into his arms.
She gasped, pulling back, but her eyes were glazed over. “For me,” she said, softly. “I want you to try for me. Because I don’t understand what’s happening, but know if you can’t, I’m going to cry.”
She raised her head again, and their eyes met. “Become human for me.”
Become human. Become human. All the way back to the manse, 653 revolved Lexie’s words around in his head. She wanted him to become human so that he could ... fall in love? So that she could fall in love. With him.
His heartbeat made a leap out of sync. Extending his hand, palm up, he timed his pulse, then did a general checkup of his inner workings. All seemed fine.
Nevertheless, he’d felt it, and there was no explanation for such a malfunction. Why would his thoughts about falling in love cause his heart to beat out of time? That organ in particular had been tuned to work perfectly with the machine. Barring a horrible accident, you couldn’t really damage it. It did its job quietly, keeping the human side of him functioning.
653 set his thoughts aside and turned his mind again to Lexie. Why him? There were two hundred and fifty-one babies born each minute across the world, that meant seven billion two hundred thirty-six million people, and counting, in the world’s population, three-hundred-twenty-two hundred million of which were in the United States alone. Surely, she could find a willing male amongst them.
“Why do you want me?” he asked. Perhaps, he shouldn’t have, but his time spent with Lexie seemed to engender questions. “There are dating services for humans.”
She cast him a glance from her place behind the wheel. “I guess I should have explained more about love.” Her gaze moved forward, and she sounded calm, but her body language said otherwise. Fingers clutching tight to the wheel, her knuckles white, she seemed reluctant to let go. “You can’t tell it when to show up.”
Of course not. Nothing human was controllable.
“It’s like stepping into a hole you didn’t see,” she continued. “Suddenly, you’re in deep and can’t find a way out. Don’t want to find a way out.”
He considered that. So love was unexpected. Many things in life were. In fact, his job required him to deal with the unexpected, and he could stay prepared for any number of situations and still run into one that fell outside the parameters he’d set. He always put that down to humans being so unmanageable, but maybe it went deeper than that. Maybe they were that way because this thing called love showed up. If that was so, then he felt sorry for them.
He blinked. He felt sorry for humans? Another emotion without any thought on his part. But that wasn’t supposed to happen. For that matter, none of this was supposed to happen. He was 653, created June 3, 2015. He took orders and obeyed them without question. He retained all knowledge given to him, until told to do otherwise. He couldn’t be killed or destroyed until the human side of him aged too far, and even then, he’d outlive a normal male. Nowhere in any of that should he feel anything.
Yet he had. He felt sorry for humans. And—
He turned his head and stared at Lexie. He liked her. A lot. His liking her at all was forbidden. His liking her more than average, unheard of. Him wanting to kiss her again, something he’d never been taught. His desire to see her unclothed, overwhelming.
What was happening to him?
“I will try,” he said.
Lexie turned the wheel, pulling into the driveway of the manse, and shifted into park. Her eyes were wet. Tears suspended in her lashes fled down her cheeks.
“You’re crying,” he said.
She bobbed her head. “Because I’m happy.”
He made an effort to smile. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
She leaned over the center console, one hand finding his face. “Tell me you really felt that.”
He reached up and captured her hand, curling it in his. “It was kind of like stepping in a hole.”
Unlocking the front door, Lexie entered the manse and cast a look ahead for Father Royce. The hallway was dark, the windows in the parlor shaded, however, a pair of voices came from his study.
She started. A pair? Her insides clenched tight, she mashed a hand to her waist. Who was here? And why would Father Royce let someone in after she’d told him not to? He was too trusting, and she’d known that when they’d left, but figured for one hour, surely, he’d be safe. He was safe. He was talking and sounded calm.
Lexie didn’t look back at Kent, for fear her guilt would be on display, and instead, proceeded down the hall to Father Royce’s study. She knocked on the door and peered in.
A boy sat in a chair in front of the desk. He was handsome, muscular for a kid his age, and though he was smiling, strangely unemotional. Her stomach shrunk tighter. She knew that look. It was the same one Kent gave her half the time. But the boy couldn’t be—
“Brother,” the boy said, his gaze going directly over her shoulder.
Lexie glanced behind. Kent entered the room at her side, settling one hand in the small of her back. “You have a brother?” she asked. Kent didn’t seem disturbed by the boy’s presence. A good sign.
“I apologize for disobeying,” Father Royce began, not giving him time to answer. “But, he said he was related, and he has proof.”
At this, the boy extended a photograph to her. Clasping it between her thumb and forefinger, she stared down at the faded image. Kent and the boy stood side-by-side with an older woman. Not their mother. He’d said he didn’t have one, so who was she?
“We’ve had a nice chat,” Father Royce continued. “I quite enjoyed myself. Such a smart young man.”
At this, the boy stood. “We need to talk.”
Kent nodded, and they left the room. She followed at a discreet distance, halting in the kitchen where she could hear their voices. She hadn’t been there long when Kent’s head popped through the opening.
“You might as well come in,” he said.
She smiled, half embarrassed, and entered.
“This is 852.”
Lexie dried damp palms on the seam of her pants. “Okay, but you said you had no family ...”
Kent eyed her, his brow wrinkled. “I said I had no parents. I do have DNA donors, however, and 852 and I have the same Y-donor.”
She looked from one to the other. “You’ll have to explain that.”
“The numbers,” Kent said. “Mine is 653. The five in mine and the five in his indicates the same Y-donor, but his X-donor was eight and mine was six.”
“Numbers. You’re lives are not only unemotional, but reduced to numbers?” Pressing one finger between her eyes, she inhaled. “What’s the last number?”
“Our creation in the process. Of Y-donor 5 and X-donor 8, he’s the second child. It’s very logical really.”
“So you’re the third? That means you have 2 others related to you?”
He neither acknowledged nor denied this. In fact, he seemed to lose a great deal of the progress they’d made at the park, becoming machine-like again.
Lexie exhaled. “Let’s say I get it. Let’s also pretend I agree with the whole logic thing, which I don’t. Why is he here?”
852 spoke. “I was sent because his readings were erratic. I’ve been assigned to his care.”
Her eyebrows lifted, Lexie soaked that in. “What readings?” she asked. She immediately changed her question. “You mean they keep track of you?”
Kent nodded. “They know where I am at all times and how my processes are working.”
“They ... they read your mind?” She waved one arm wide in anger.
Kent appeared confused. “Why do you yell?”
Lexie’s frustrations grew. “Because it’s ridiculous, that’s why. They take away your ability to feel anything, and now, they’re watching you as well? Are you allowed to be anything at all?”
She held up one hand, palm flat. “Don’t answer that because I can hear it coming. You’re a machine. But you’re not. I’ve proven that all ready.”
She whirled on the boy. “You come in here like some spy, planning to report back to them how things are going? Is that it? Then, if things aren’t all square and boring and straight, they whisk him away? Well, you know what? If that’s your plan, then you can take a hike. And be sure to tell them, the crazy human female at the manse has her feelings out.” Lexie made claws with her nails. “And she plans on sharing them with Kent ... or 653 ... or whatever the heck he is because nobody has the right to say who you are or where you’re going. Wait ... can they hear me now?”
She pushed into Kent’s face. “Hello, there, evil nobodies. Take this.” Extending her middle finger, she held it in his face, then burst into tears.
His arms came around her, and he tucked her head to his chest. She sobbed until her nose clogged and her eyes ached. When she looked up, he was staring at her.
“Are you afraid again?” he asked.
She worked up a weak smile. “Terrified. Please don’t tell me they’re taking you away.”
“No. But 852 has to stay. He can share my room.”
She turned her head to see the boy, her chin tucked to his shoulder. “Human woman are volatile,” she said.
852 didn’t smile or frown, but arms behind his back, military-like, gazed back at her. “I can see that.”