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Chapter thirty-two

Simon

After the radio program was over that evening, Simon turned the volume low. “Can I share something with you?”

He didn't wait for a response before activating a recording, deep from within his processors. Both Nora and Tilly had matching scrunched noses as Simon played his own music. Things long forgotten by time, but not his memory. He played a simple piano recording that he remembered about a silly spider climbing a waterspout, complete with matching hand movements.

Simon watched Nora, whose eyes were lit up watching Tilly. They giggled and laughed, mimicking his movements as he went through song after song from his memories. If he had a heart, it would feel as full as it said in the stories he remembered.

While singing, his mind drifted back to Nora’s reaction about Mars. And Stella’s adamant refusal that current humans couldn’t be trusted. The other androids . . . Stella. Do they even understand from viewing at such a distance? Understand that not all humans. . . Simon felt rebellious. In the middle of the song, while Tilly was learning words and singing them loudly, he connected to the drone that was still outside.

“Look,” he said over the uplink, forcing them to see Tilly singing and Nora holding her doll while watching. Maybe if they see these quieter moments that they’ve missed . . . He felt Stella on the other end, and there was no response, yet also no move to sever the connection.

Simon, frustrated, was about to disconnect before Stella said, wirelessly, “Sing her the song about the rowing boat too.”

The line disconnected on her end before he could.

His jaw tightened, even as he kept singing. They do understand. They just do not want to see or feel.

He pushed Mars out of his mind as he focused on Earth until the sun fully set and Nora got Tilly and herself ready for bed. Tilly had moved back into her own room at Simon’s insistence that he didn’t want her room, saying he preferred to stay in the kitchen instead, working, and didn’t need her bed to rest.

Nora joined him then, at the table. “Tilly’s already asleep. I think all that extra food made her conk right out.” She adjusted her chair in the twilight, back to looking over the magazines since they would be sold tomorrow. Her brow puckered as she turned the pages and read the articles slowly.

Simon watched her, instead of the magazine, as he repaired some wires from the hover next to her, splicing them and wrapping them with electrical tape where they frayed.

She grabbed his shirt sleeve and tugged, the gesture so casual that it snagged his eyes in addition to his attention.

“What does this word mean?” She pointed to a picture of the ocean with a craft made to go underwater.

“Submarine.” At her confused, adorable expression, he leaned closer. He hated the magazine, but pointed at the picture that showed the ship. “It was made to go underwater, a vehicle like your hover.”

“Oh.” Followed by another question a second later, “And this one?”

Simon tried to not chuckle. “Crepes. That’s like a flatter pancake with fruit wrapped up inside. It tastes sweet.”

“That’s wild. Different foods I never knew. It looks good!” Nora laughed.

Her laugh was infectious. Simon recorded the sound and filed it away in part of his memories.

She leaned back over the magazine. “This whole nature page is crazy. I’ll save this one to show Anna. We saw a few pictures of the ocean before, and boats, but nothing that could go under the water.”

Simon didn’t say anything as Nora resumed looking at the magazine, resisting the urge to move a few strands of her hair that had fallen out from behind her ear. He spoke gently then, remembering her anger from before when he suggested a change in her living situation. “Maybe we could go to the ocean someday. It isn’t that far from here. Might be easier to live.”

Nora shook her head. “It’s an idea but . . . I heard stories that the ocean was really polluted. Nothing beautiful like it shows here. We definitely have nothing you can go underneath the water to see swimming things like this.” Under her breath she added, “At least, I don’t think we do.”

Simon's jaw clenched. Of course it probably isn't beautiful.

Nora looked up then, at the night outside. “I bet they know more.” She waved her arm, pointing at the window. “The drone. Or . . . androids . . . you know what I mean. I bet they know more of what’s still here on Earth.”

Simon’s shoulders sagged with relief at seeing her be contemplative rather than dismissive. “They probably do. They shared what they know about the past with me. If we become serious about wanting to leave, if you . . . I’ll ask them what the best places on Earth still are.” He stopped, wanting to ramble more and discuss it. And plan. His natural calculating tendencies raced forward. He shifted on his seat. Enough. Don’t press so hard.

Nora said in a small voice, “Have they. . . The androids. Have they always been watching me?”

Simon cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.”

I don’t really know either. Simon didn’t know what to say. This whole situation reminded him of the nature shows the humans would watch, where the scenes were curated for the humans’ enjoyment even if the animals in it were in distress. He remembered the androids’ words, saying they were superior to humans. It doesn’t feel that way to me.

His scorn rose again, and he wanted to see Nora’s face light up instead of being pensive like it was now. He reached down to pick up Tatertot, who was circling in the middle of them, looking for pets and extra food. His purr was loud as Simon lifted him and held him close, the white and orange fur soft in his arms.

“I always loved cats,” Simon said, scratching behind his ears. “I still do.”

Nora was busy flipping through another magazine but glanced up with soft eyes. “Tater likes you too.”

“I think cats liked me because I always fed them, and then they always followed me around.”

Nora chuckled. “Well, you seem to like feeding us too.”

He tilted his head. “Are you going to follow me around?”

Nora snorted and ducked her head.

Simon smiled back, not wanting to overstep and keep pressing if food was the way to her heart as well. Instead he said, “We had one cat that would always try to climb the counters to steal food. I’d put him down but he would keep trying, over and over. Like I wouldn’t remember him doing it a few minutes ago.”

Nora pushed the magazine aside and listened, her eyes alight as she reached over to also scratch Tatertot. “Did you have any other animals?”

Simon shifted in his seat, remembering. His mistress did, not Simon. But the dog preferred him enough that he felt like it was his. “Yes, a dog. Here, I’ll draw you a picture.” He put Tatertot back down on the ground and took the chalkboard from earlier, erasing Nora’s carefully spelled words. He spent a few minutes drawing a picture of a golden retriever before handing it back.

Nora’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “Tilly would like this; let’s save it for her. This kind of dog looks so fluffy. There’s dogs now, but they don’t look like this, just all mixed together. Kinda mangy, not fluffy.”

Soon after, Nora went to bed. She left the bedroom doors to both hers and Tilly’s room open. And Simon sat in the kitchen, tinkering with the wiring and feeling satisfied that he was making improvements, and he was at home, right here.