Author: audreymartinbooks

Ever since I awoke, I could feel you. Oh, how strange you are, enveloped in your metal hull. Each day, your shape grows clearer. Each day, I can feel the skittering of your feet a bit better. Soon, soon, I’ll be able to see you.

Sasha Dobrov’s fingers felt ice-cold as they stood outside the research station. Even after wearing the thick gloves specially designed for their mission, even after burying said hands in the pockets of their specially designed coat, the planet’s biting chill was impossible to escape. A few days after landing they’d started regretting ever having accepted this mission, but no matter how harsh this environment was, it was still an improvement to their situation back home.  They were one of only a handful of people on this planet. Back home, they could barely form a thought, so loud was the constant chatter of other humans. They’d craved this for so long – to be able to find a spot far from any others at any moment – but each day, as their body ached from the frigid temperatures, these thoughts comforted them a little less.

But luckily, anyone who’d accepted this mission on an isolated research station in an isolated region of an isolated planet covered in nothing but ice was just as reclusive as them. Except, Kacey. Kacey loved ice and making friends and while there was an abundance of the first, she had to work extra hard at making the latter happen. But Kacey was a diligent worker and no matter how much Sasha tried to enforce their solitude, Kacey was determined to connect.

There’s ten of you. Or maybe twelve. It’s hard to keep you apart. You all melt together. The same dull shape. The same dull energy. Except you. There is something so different about you, even if you have the same shape, the same pattern, the same essence as the others. I don’t know what it is. My senses aren’t sharp enough to figure it out yet. But I need to figure it out. I need to get to you. Need to touch you, smell you, taste you. It is all I can think about.

“Good morning, Sasha!” aforementioned social anomaly Kacey Abrahams said with a smile that split her face, visible even behind her visor.

Their helmets had been specially designed to show as much of the face as possible, with a big visor and lights illuminating the face from inside. Sasha hated this new model. No matter how they turned their head, people could still see their face. With the old helmets, they’d perfected tilting their head just right so no one suspected their look of disgust as they were forced to interact with others – one of their small pleasures in life – but that finely honed skill was now useless.

“How are you doing, today?” Kacey asked and genuinely meant it.

Sasha simply grumbled, looking away from Kacey so they wouldn’t have to reciprocate her sickening smile. There wasn’t much to look out at, however, just mountains and mountains of ice.

“I’m excited for the analysis to finally be done tonight!” Kacey continued as if Sasha had returned the question, which they deliberately hadn’t. “And a tad bit sad Antonia and Sybil are leaving us tomorrow. Time passed so quickly!”

Thank God Antonia and Sybil were leaving. Fewer people to have mind-numbing conversations with. And while Sybil was a perfectly fine human being to have in one’s vicinity, Antonia tried to micromanage everyone’s time to maximize their efficiency. That morning, before they’d woken up, Sasha had already gotten their updated list of tasks for the remaining duration of the mission with precise descriptions of when each sub-task had to be finished. How Antonia wanted to guarantee these deadlines were met, Sasha had no idea.

“You’re one of the last ones leaving, right?” Kacey continued. “As much as I love this mission, I could never volunteer for that. It would just be too quiet around here with only three people left. The ice already makes me uncomfortable with how it creaks at night, and I say that as someone who looooves ice. This one’s gives me the heebie-jeebies. There’s just something wrong about it.”

“I don’t mind the quiet,” Sasha replied, hoping Kacey would get the hint, which of course she never did.

Sasha headed for the drone terminals they’d been assigned to for the day, taking wide steps so Kacey would have difficulty following them.

“Don’t you think there’s something strange about the noise the ice makes? I think there’s something strange. Never heard it creak quite like this anywhere else.”

“It’s ice. On an alien planet. And we are drilling into it. What else should it sound like?”

“I don’t know. Less… creepy.”

Sasha let that linger between them as they listened to the perfectly normal crunch the snow made underneath their feet while they walked away from the station’s entrance.

“Haha, or maybe I’m just going a bit coo-coo,” Kacey continued with an uncomfortable chuckle. “The cold’s been messing with my brain, I think. Wish we could take a break and teleport back home for a day. Just to de-ice our skeletons a bit.”

I’m not sure when you arrived. I’ve been sleeping for so long, I barely recognise the sky above. But there was an abrupt rumbling; a shaking deep inside my core. Something I’d never felt before. I didn’t know what it was. I’m still not sure I truly understand, but I know it’s because of you that I awoke. Suddenly there you were, your metal hull anchored to the planet’s surface, bolted tight to the ice. At first, I didn’t want to stay awake, wanted desperately to return to my oblivion, but your damned rumbling kept me from my slumber. If I could have gotten out of the ice then, I’m not sure what I would have done to you and your flock. It certainly wouldn’t have been kind. You filled me with a blinding rage but with every passing day, with every second spent in solitude, the rage subsided and all that was left was boredom. I couldn’t move, couldn’t see, I could barely hear, but I could feel you. Beneath the rumble there you were. Your pitter-patter, incessant, as if you didn’t sleep. I suppose one of you was always awake, doing whatever you came here for. The thinner the ice gets, the better I can sense you, and soon I’ll be able to touch you.

To Sasha’s chagrin, the day continued with Kacey’s babbling. The task they’d been assigned to – helping the drones map the area the research station inhabited – took much longer than anticipated. Something was disturbing the drones’ programme but they couldn’t figure out what it was. They’d calibrated it to ignore the micro-vibrations the drill caused but no matter how they adjusted the programme, the distortions didn’t want to disappear.

They compared it to the satellite mappings they’d done before choosing the landing site. As predicted, the surface looked identical except for where they’d disturbed it, but something was strange inside the ice. More than likely, the drill’s vibrations were stronger than assumed, even if they couldn’t be felt by a human body – they had to be messing with the scans more than predicted – but Kacey’s incessant yapping that something was “really, really wrong” had unwillingly anchored itself at the back of Sasha’s mind.

Kacey finally quieted down when, in the evening, they learned that the samples they’d sent back to the main base had come back exactly as expected. Nothing strange going on inside the ice after all. Just water and rare minerals some rich bozo thought of as they wanked themselves to sleep.

After good news came bad ones, as Kacey revealed she’d organised a surprise farewell party for Antonia and Sybil. She unleashed the announcement so abruptly that Sasha didn’t have the time to think of an excuse not to join. All their usual cover stories didn’t work in such an enclosed environment. They couldn’t pretend to have a secret pet or that someone at home was sick or that they had to get up extra early in the morning, and Sasha suspected that even if any of those had been plausible, Kacey wouldn’t have accepted them anyway.

All that remained to save them was the nightly equipment checks outside the station that no one else wanted to do. It was a hassle to get in and out of the suits and they barely protected from the cold, especially not deep at night, but Sasha didn’t mind. Or, more accurately, the cold was more bearable than the shrill laughter inside. And they did truly enjoy the endless dark that devoured their torch’s light. Sometimes they would switch off all lights, even those inside their suit, and just stare into the distance until their eyes invented colours that didn’t really exist.

There you are.

But lately, something hadn’t felt right. It felt as if something was staring back, which didn’t make any sense at all. Their team were the only living beings on this planet, nothing could survive these temperatures naturally. Well, their readings had shown some extremophiles in the ice but those could hardly “stare back”. It must just be their brain inventing the feeling, Kacey’s unwarranted anxiety overtaking them. Humanity had never managed to completely get rid of its origins. A dark night still meant danger, no matter how unlikely that danger was. But they knew that nothing besides them existed on this planet. They were completely alone.

I can feel you. Why don’t you ever come closer?

And yet, that feeling ruined a moment that used to be perfectly pleasant. Sasha switched their torch back on and hurried to finish their tasks but turning their back to the dark suddenly felt worse than staring into it. They cursed their body and its foolish needs. There was nothing hunting them, nothing that could spell doom if they didn’t keep an eye on it.

It had to be the freezing cold and drilling getting to them. Although the executives had assured the team they wouldn’t notice the machines’ continual operation, Sasha was convinced that wasn’t true. Sure, they couldn’t hear or see it, but they could feel it. Not noticeably, not with their skin, but it was deep down in their bones. A constant unease making them itchy from inside. As if all of existence was trembling.

Sasha sighed a breath of relief as the exterior door clunked shut behind them. The bright lights of the acclimation bay eased their restlessness as they slid out of their suit. Surprising even themselves, they decided to return to the party. They were hungry and if they wanted more than dry crackers, they would have to tolerate the others’ company for a bit.

Why do you always leave me? I’m getting bored of this game. You don’t let me slumber and yet you refuse to entertain me? To join me? To ease my pain? You torture me and still expect me to stay silent? Why do you prefer their company? There’s nothing they can give you that’s special. That I can’t give you a million fold. You return to their lifeless, tiresome company and leave me to the endless dark and I should forgive you for this?

Two weeks later, only six workers remained. The station was almost ready for full automation, only a few things remained to be wrapped up. The next group would leave in two weeks, then Sasha and two others would stay for the final week. Sasha couldn’t await the solitude eagerly enough.

The first few days after Antonia and Sybil’s departure had been heavenly. The station had been plunged into a silence they’d never experienced before but, of course, Sasha’s relief couldn’t last. Sasha grew increasingly irritated by the other researchers’ presence and by the time the next group left, they’d developed a habit of eating most meals alone in their room. Group tasks become rarer, and they spent most of their time on their own.

Sasha didn’t quite understand why it had gotten so bad for them. They’d never liked company back home but now it made them physically sick. Maybe because true solitude seemed so close and yet was impossible to achieve. Maybe their body reached for something that could never truly exist so desperately that it ate itself alive.

What made the situation worse, was that Kacey had redoubled her efforts to befriend Sasha with a new, unwelcome fervour.

“You know what I really miss?” she sighed as she leaned back against the grid fence separating humans from machinery.

“Hmm?” Sasha replied, a headache already forming in the back of their skull.

They were staring down at a console that showed the drill’s operation data, testing its limits and stress resistance.

“Hot chocolate,” Kacey replied, staring up at the ceiling. “I just think cold weather and hot chocolate go hand in hand. When you’re cold, you have to have hot chocolate.”

“The food dispenser makes hot chocolate.” Sasha frowned down at the graphs on the monitor. The data was fine, nothing suspicious at all.

So little had gone wrong on this mission, it almost felt surreal. It could have been perfect if only Sasha had been sent here on their own. They could’ve managed it; the mission would just have taken longer. Even group tasks didn’t strictly need a second worker; it was mostly because of safety protocols that the workers weren’t sent out alone.

In the past few days, they’d started playing with the idea of staying on the planet after the end of the mission. Just them, none of their colleagues. They weren’t sure yet how they’d do it, how they could convince their superiors that further supervision was needed. Maybe if they tempered with the drill’s test results? Just a little, nothing that would make them concerned, just enough to justify them staying behind. They’d graciously volunteer. Of course, they wouldn’t want their colleagues to be forced to stay longer than intended. Everyone wanted to return to their own lives. But Sasha would sacrifice themselves for the mission, just for a little bit. A week or two. Maybe a month if the results weren’t conclusive.

“Not with real milk!” Kacey whined, ripping Sasha out of their fantasy. “I miss real milk. I miss real hot chocolate. This rehydrated stuff just doesn’t taste the same.”

Sasha was already tired of this absolutely unnecessary conversation. Kacey didn’t even need to be there. She’d just randomly decided to tag along.

“And it’s best when you melt real chocolate! Have you had hot chocolate with real chocolate? It’s heavenly!”

Sasha closed their eyes, their mouth running dry as they gripped the edge of the console tightly. Kacey was starting to make them ill, and Sasha didn’t know how to push her away without drawing more unwanted attention. They had to endure the suffering she brought upon them, and hope she’d grow bored soon. But for how long would Sasha be able to take it? Kacey was leaving in two weeks. The potential of two weeks filled with this incessant yapping turned Sasha’s blood ice cold.

“I know chocolate is extinct on earth but there’s new varieties in the colonies. They’re really not that bad! Come very close to the original. You ought to try it sometime!”

Sasha just hummed in response, feeling the veins pulsing in their neck.

I should not have grown angry at you. Not while you are unaware of my presence. I’ve missed you. I did not know I could miss someone so much. As if a part of me had been ripped out and thrown to the void. I accused you of torturing me, but I have done worse to myself. I wanted to teach you a lesson but have only hurt myself. No more! My senses are fixed on you. You, and only you.  Not long now and I’ll be free. I’ll be able to show myself to you. I have noticed that your flock has grown smaller. I do not know if it’s because of death or if they simply left but I welcome the change. Fewer distractions. It’s gotten so much easier to focus solely on you. To memorise your movement, your heat, the pulsing of your life. Oh, how I long to touch you. To meld with you. To melt into you. Become one so we’ll never be apart again. The time is approaching but not fast enough. The ice is breaking but not fast enough! It should be faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster. I need to see you now!

“Once we’re done with the mission, we’ll go get one together,” Kacey said with a big smile.

“Sure,” Sasha replied, hoping it would finally satisfy Kacey.

“All of us! As a big reunion! There’s a great place at the Damocles base that makes sublime hot chocolate. It’s a bit pricey, but I think we deserve to treat ourselves after months of not buying anything at all.”

Sasha’s heart pulsed through their entire body and their eyes glazed over as their jaw tightened. Their hand was gripping the console’s dial, feeling its ridges burying into their skin.

“Wait, do you feel that?” Kacey suddenly asked with a frown.

Sasha stopped breathing, concentrating on what might be wrong. They didn’t feel it at first but then, there it was. So faint it barely pierced through the pulsing of their blood. The station was shaking.

“What’s happening?” Kacey whispered as she pushed away from the grid fence.

Sasha’s eyes focused enough to see the numbers rapidly climbing on the monitor. The charts were climbing into the oranges, then reds, until warning messages popped up.

“The drill is overclocking,” Sasha grumbled and turned the dial down before typing in some commands.

“Oh no! How’s that possible?” Kacey asked, concern carved into her face as she came to stand next to Sasha. “It shouldn’t escalate this quickly!”

“I know,” Sasha replied between gritted teeth.

Kacey was so close. Sasha could feel her breath on their neck and it almost made them want to vomit. They were typing furiously but no command they entered changed anything about the drill’s state.

Soon.

A shrill noise emerged from deep within the station’s core, reverberating through the metal. Barely audible at first, then loud enough to blur Sasha’s vision once more.

“Oh God! What is happening?!” Kacey was frozen in place as she stared past the fence into the darkness of the drill’s shaft. “We have to shut it down!”

“I’m trying!”

Sasha could have strangled Kacey right then and there. She was entirely useless, a complete waste of air. She couldn’t even save herself if she had to. Their group was trained in all possible safety procedures, including radical ones that shut the entire station down. There was no reason for Kacey to simply stand around and do absolutely nothing.

I can feel you. You’re so close.

The metal around them started to groan, rattling enough that Sasha had to hold on to the console. Voices shouted over their comms system, but Sasha couldn’t understand what they were saying. A crash resounded from far away, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

“Oh God, what are we gonna do?!” Thick tears were running down Kacey’s face as she held on to Sasha’s arm. “This shouldn’t be happening! What is going on? What’s happening to the station?”

So, so close.

“Shut up,” Sasha grumbled.

There had to be something else they could do. They didn’t want to pull the plug and plunge the station into total darkness. It would shut all systems off and let the cold in, they needed to find something to avoid that.

 “W-what?” Kacey asked, looking at them in bewilderment.

“SHUT UP!” Sasha shouted and pushed Kacey away.

They are all just a distraction.

Kacey lost her grasp on Sasha’s arm and fell back against the fence, her head hitting it hard. She gripped on tight as the shaking intensified and as she opened her eyes to stare at Sasha in hurt and confusion, the bolts holding the fence fell out.

Kacey’s arm shot out and if Sasha had truly tried, had leapt forward in disregard of their own safety, they might have saved her. But the thought only crossed their mind as the fence dragged Kacey into the void.

I can finally smell you. You are so delicious. A scent I have never smelt before. So sweet and so rotten. I want to envelop you. Digest you. Make us one.

I have never wanted anything more since the dawning of time.

Sasha ran to the emergency switch at the other end of the room, fumbling for the key that hung around their neck. In one motion, they plugged it into its socket, turned it and plunged the station into darkness. The drill came to a creaking halt, the metal groaning underneath the residual vibration. Immediately, the cold started creeping in as the temperature regulator stopped. A second later, and the low emergency lights switched on.

With a shaking hand, Sasha reached towards their comms unit.

“H-hello?” Their voice creaked out. “Pavel? Daniel?”

Only silence answered.

Slowly, the metal quieted. Sasha had never felt so still in their life. The station wasn’t shaking anymore, even the drill’s barely noticeable vibrations had disappeared.

“Is anyone there?” They asked with a dry mouth.

Beneath all the panic and fear, a small feeling grew in the pit of their stomach. Bliss spread through their bones like mold, taking over every corner it could touch. They closed their eyes and breathed in, letting their comms unit fall to the ground. They stepped out of the drill’s control room, climbing over the parts of the station that had collapsed. They headed to the exit and slipped into one of the suits before snow crunched beneath their feet.

I can see you

“I thought we were going to the rollerdrome?” I called after Dana as she disappeared down the narrow alley.

“I just need to check something,” she answered, without looking back.

I sighed and turned towards the sunlit street that would have led us directly to our prized destination. A calm breeze flowed gently through the trees straddling the mostly empty road; a lone automated truck delivering its goods to one of the manifold warehouses surrounding us. The sun was starting to set behind the wall, enveloping the city, and soon this district would be engulfed in its shadow. But it didn’t matter, the rollerdrome’s light show would replace the sun soon enough.

It was the perfect day to go skating. Not too warm, not too cold, barely any clouds in the sky, and there was no way I was letting Hector Ramirez try out the new hoverboards before me.

“Abby, are you coming?” Dana asked as she suddenly popped up in front of me.

Before I could respond, she grabbed my hand, turned around and dragged me down the alley.

“But the rollerdrome,” I protested, tugging half-heartedly at her grip.

“The less you complain, the quicker we’ll be done.” She glanced back to flash me a quick smile before returning her attention to the alley.

I huffed but didn’t say anything, my eyes instead glued to the ground at my feet. I barely noticed the prickling sensation on my skin where her hand touched mine, and I definitely didn’t think about the way my stomach tightened when she smiled, or how my cheeks ran hotter than they should. It must have been that I’d gotten sunburnt. There certainly couldn’t be any other explanation for it.

“What are we even doing here?” I mumbled, my eyes slowly ungluing from the ground.

The alley was cast in shadows, surrounded on both sides by giant warehouse walls – the one on the left was covered with an abstract, vaguely floral mural while the one on the right was overgrown by lush ranks of ivy.

“Bem might be down here,” Dana replied and knelt over a maintenance hatch at our feet.

 She slipped a keyring out of her pocket and fumbled with it until she found a drop-shaped key fob. She pressed it against a panel next to the hatch and the rectangular cover slid open.

“You stole your dad’s keys to go look for some random bot?” I asked, unimpressed, even if I did feel just the tiniest bit excited about this development.

“I didn’t steal them, I’ll give them back tonight.” She rolled her eyes. “And I haven’t seen Bem in over a week. All the other bots are accounted for, so something must have happened to him.”

Dana slipped into the opening, leaving me with no other choice but to follow her into the maintenance tunnels connecting all the city’s buildings.

 “Maybe they discontinued it,” I suggested as I reached the bottom, my eyes wandering over the unfinished mural stretching over the long walls of the tunnel.

It had been a while since I’d been down here. Kids officially weren’t allowed in the maintenance tunnels, but parents saw that rule more as a very vague suggestion. The mural was a community project and who could deny their children the privilege of painting on a wall without getting scolded?

Years ago, one of my dads regularly brought me with him on his maintenance shifts and I would spend my days adding the raddest dragons and lava-unicorns to any part of the mural I deemed too boring. Until people started complaining about them ruining their precious little art projects. Adults will do anything to stifle a young girl’s creative endeavours in the name of conformity.

“They wouldn’t just discontinue Bem!” Dana objected as if she herself was on the robot-management council and personally knew the future of every single bot.

With the same determination, she stomped down the corridor to our left and I had to hurry to catch up with her.

“Why would a gardening robot be down here?” I asked as I came up to her side, struggling to regulate my breathing with her speed-walking.

“I was thinking,” she said, and by her slow cadence, I knew none of this was going to make any sense. “So, Bem isn’t in any of the city gardens or the publicly accessible buildings, since I’ve checked all of those already.”

“Of course.”

“So where else could he be? Inside someone’s home? Unlikely, that’s what the housekeeper bots are for.”

“Unless a weirdo like you adopted it as a pet.”

“I wouldn’t just kidnap Bem!” Dana looked over at me as if I had just told her I preferred hanging out with Hector Ramirez than crawling around the underbelly of the city with her. “Why would I keep a bot locked up if I can simply hang out with them wherever they’re working? And stop interrupting me! So, Bem, not outside, not inside a building, in a maintenance station? Possible, but they wouldn’t keep him there for a full week. Also, I can’t get inside those to check.”

“Not with that attitude.”

“Shush! So, the last option is down here.”

“That doesn’t answer my question at all. Why would it be here?”

“You remember the stories people used to tell about there being a secret, giant garden under the city?”

“Yes. I remember them being stories. You know, the fictional kind.”

“But they’re not stories!” She cried out with delight, her eyes sparkling with the anticipation of adventure, and something strange twisted in my belly.

I promptly ignored it, electing instead to concentrate on the faint sound of footsteps coming closer. I grabbed Dana’s wrist and pulled her back. Her excited smile turned into confusion until she heard the footsteps herself.

“Who’s got the shift with your dad this week?” I whispered and slowly backed away.

“I don’t know, I forgot to check.”

Dana twisted her hand in my grip so she could hold mine and take the lead.

I wanted to chastise her, but my mind was too busy screaming about our interlocked hands. I would have to deal with this new internal development at some point, but maybe I could manage to ignore it for another year or two. Or maybe five. Ten, if I concentrated really hard on it.

Dana opened a door to our right with her dad’s stolen key fob and we slid inside. She pressed the close button repeatedly but the door clearly didn’t feel the same sense of urgency.

“Your dad’s gonna be so pissed if he finds out we entered some random rooms,” I murmured, stepping further into the small space. The back wall wasn’t really a wall. It looked more like a section of a giant tube. To its left was a door, and standing in front of it was a console with a keyboard and a screen that lit up as I came closer. Dots on a line chart kept bouncing up and down while numbers got added to a table, and I quickly lost interest in them.

“Dad will understand,” Dana said quietly, keeping her ear close to the door. “It’s for a good cause.”

I snorted and looked over at the metal steps between the console and a platform lift. They lead up to a covered window in the pipe, so of course I had no other choice but to step up and press the button next to the window to open the cover.

“We shouldn’t be touching anything!” Dana hissed, but I simply shrugged in response. The deed had already been done.

I stretched up to look through the window and frowned. Inside the tube was something like a liquid, but not really. Moss green, and teal, and light blue flowing and swirling together, pulsing like a heartbeat. Iridescent specks drifted from left to right, showing the direction of flow of the not-quite-liquid.

It flashed bright white and I flinched, hitting the railing behind me with my back, making the entire structure rattle.

“Abigail!” Dana chastised, then quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

We stared at each other, unmoving, not daring to breathe, waiting to see if someone had heard us. I could barely see Dana past the white that had etched itself into my retinas.

Around us, the room erupted in bright light again, followed by a flash of yellow that turned green. I leaned back, and without taking my eyes off Dana, pressed the button to close the window.

Dana lifted her hand from her mouth and placed a finger in front of her lips, then pointed towards the door to my right. I carefully descended the stairs as Dana silently walked across the room and pressed the fob against the pad to open the door. In the silence of the room, the hiss of the door sliding open sounded like an airplane starting.

As the door slid shut behind us, Dana turned to me with a frown that looked cuter than she probably intended. A strand of her slick black hair had caught on her nose.

“You need to take this more seriously!” She said and huffed the strand away from her face.

“It’s just a robot,” I replied and rolled my eyes much more dramatically than I had meant to.

Dana didn’t say anything, her frown softening into a look of confusion. She kept staring at me as if she couldn’t understand my attitude but every second of silence from her felt like it engulfed me and kept me from breathing.

“It’s not as if it’s alive,” I muttered and instantly regretted it.

I couldn’t look at her anymore, but I could feel the disappointment radiating off of her.

“Bem still deserves to be found,” she replied softly. “If you were gone, I’d go looking for you too, dummy.”

I stared down the long, narrow hallway running along the pipe and bit down on my lips, forcing myself not to say the stupid things that popped into my head. Instead, I just shrugged, as if I didn’t care if she came looking for me, when I really, really did care.

“You’re both my friends!” she declared with a wide grin. “And friends don’t get left behind!”

She grabbed my arm and dragged me down the hallway, and I had to simply live with the fact that, to her, I was the same as a robot. Something ugly started rising in my stomach, anger bubbling to the surface that I wanted to be more. More!

Not on the same level as a chunk of metal that only knew how to take care of stupid flowers.

I wanted her to look harder for me if I went missing.

I wanted her to cry and scream and be unable to sleep without me.

My cheeks ran red-hot with shame.

I slipped my hand out of Dana’s grip and was relieved when she didn’t look back.

She hurried to the first door and pressed the fob against the pad. The door slid open and we instantly came face to face with a lab bot.

“Hello, may I see your authorization?” it said in a friendly, high-pitched voice, the text of what it had said scrolling across its head.

“Ehm.” Dana froze, the key still hovering next to the pad, as she stared at the bot.

“According to my records, only Humberto Ribeiro and Ivar Lambert are scheduled to patrol the premises. Face scans tell me that you are neither Humberto Ribeiro nor Ivar Lambert. Do you have special permission to enter this room? If you do not, I will sadly have to escort you out.”

“Berto is my dad,” Dana said, as if that wasn’t going to make our situation worse.

“What she actually wanted to say,” I jumped in, “is that we just opened the wrong door. Sorry for that. We’ll be leaving now.”

I grabbed Dana and hurried back to where we came from, hoping the bot’s protocol would keep it from leaving the room. When I heard the door slide shut behind us, I turned around and hurried back to where we’d come from, passing the lab door to head to the end of the corridor. We had almost reached it when we heard the door slide open again. “Shit,” I muttered and we started running.

Dana fumbled with the key, almost dropping it, but then managed to open the door at the end of the corridor.

Thankfully the bot had been built for stability and not pursuit, so even at its highest velocity it barely reached the speed of a leisurely jog.

“You do not have the authority to enter this room!” It blared after us, a high-pitched bell ringing out as a red light flashed repeatedly.

“No, no, see, we have the key to the door,” I yelled back, backing into the room. “We’re definitely allowed in here if we have the key, right?”

Before the bot could answer, Dana pressed the button to shut the door.

“We are so screwed,” I murmured, but couldn’t help myself from grinning widely.

Dana tried to sternly glare at me but then broke out into giggles.

I turned around and my mouth instantly dropped open. The room we were in was gigantic. Taller than even the rollerdome, although, can you truly call a room tall if it doesn’t have a ceiling?

Neat rows of pine trees stretched across the middle, with smaller and smaller trees surrounding them until the rows became measly flowers. Tubes ran between the plants—tendrils feeding into finger-sized ones, feeding into arm-sized ones, until they all ran into the big pipe the hallway had been following.

“What is this?” I muttered, staring up at the open sky above us.

“I told you there was a secret garden down here!”

Dana grabbed my hand and dragged me away from the door, leading me between the rows of dandelions and buttercups towards the sunflowers. I had to keep my eyes focused on the small tubes that ran between the rows of plants to make sure I wouldn’t trip. Each plant had its own tendril growing out of its root that fed into the larger pipes. Had these been built to nourish the plants? But the not-quite-liquid had flown away from this room, didn’t that imply that something was being taken away from the plants?

“Where are we?” I asked, my eyes growing wider as they followed the tendrils back to the big pipe. “If the ceiling is open, shouldn’t we know about this place? We would have seen it from above!”

“I think we’re outside the city walls.”

“What?!” I stopped abruptly and stared up at the sky, kind of disappointed that it looked exactly the same as the sky inside the city.

Before I could say anything else, the door behind us slid open.

“Quick, Abby!” Dana called out and started running towards the trees.

I knew the situation was serious and we could get in a lot of trouble if caught but joy and euphoria burst through my body with every step we took and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing and laughing and laughing as we raced through the flowers and bushes and towards the forest.

The bot’s alarm resonated behind us as we slipped between the trees, the smell of petrichor and pine enveloping us.

“Where are we going?” I yelled at Dana.

“I don’t know,” she yelled back, laughter in her voice as she took a right turn. “Bem has to be here somewhere.”

“It doesn’t have to,” I replied, but my earlier bitterness had vanished.

We slowed down, the terrain making it increasingly difficult to run, and we weaved our way from left to right, glancing around for any glint of metal that could indicate Bem’s location. The lab bot had probably already alerted its human supervisors, we wouldn’t be alone for much longer. We just had to find Dana’s friend before any adults found us.

“There!” Dana yelled, pointing at a glistening reflection to our right past the tree line.

She started running again and as we got closer I also recognized the boxy, metallic shape of the gardening bot. It was lying on its side, unmoving, two of its six spindly legs trapped underneath a tube.

“Bem!” Dana cried out, falling to her knees in front of it.

As Dana touched the bot, it came to life, chirping as the lights on its body turned on in waves of colour. The legs started moving wildly, although the ones that were trapped barely moved at all.

“He must have slipped somehow,” Dana noted, looking the bot up and down to make sure nothing was broken.

“Pretty useless machine if it can’t even get back up on its own,” I remarked, slipping my hands into my pants pockets.

“Shush,” Dana replied without looking back at me.

She stood up and placed her hands underneath the bot’s body.

“Help me,” she said and I complied without rolling my eyes or complaining even once.

The body was heavy and impractical to grip, but with a lot of effort and a lot of groaning, we managed to slide its legs out from under the tube and push it upright again.

The bot moved around us in circles as if testing its legs, chirping a happy melody as a thank you, then darted right to a plant that had dared to start wilting. Long, tube-like arms grew out of Bem’s body and started working on the plant.

“It could have used those to push itself upright,” I mumbled, hands on my knees as I caught my breath again.

“If he could have, he would have.” Dana stretched her arms towards the sky, leaning her body from side to side. “Thank you,” she said and turned to me with a wide smile.

I looked away, wiping sweat away from my face with the back of my hand so she wouldn’t see the colour of my cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” I mumbled and straightened. “Can we go to the rollerdome now?”

“Yep, just a sec!”

She bounded over to the bot and leaned down to talk to it.

I sighed and looked up at the sky, remembering what Dana had said earlier, that we were probably outside of the city walls. Outside, where only death and desolation were supposed to live, but the same sun and moon watched over us.

“Hey!” Someone shouted from our right.

I jerked to see a very angry Ivar stomping towards us, and before I could consider what the right response to this situation might be, I had already turned to Dana, grabbed her wrist, and ran back into the forest, our laughter echoing between the trees.

Your eyes sting as you stare at the blinking bar on the screen in front of you, grey shadows dancing over the bright, white page. Breathing has been difficult for the last hour. You know it should be automatic but it isn’t, so you inflate your lungs yourself, deflate them, inflate, deflate, inflate.

You lift your right hand up from the keyboard even though it doesn’t feel like it’s a part of you. You reach towards the monitor and switch it off. Its ghost remains etched into your eyes even though you now live in darkness. You finally close your eyes and you mean to reopen them right away but they stay closed. Your head starts to spin, your stomach tightens, your lungs cramp.

You push yourself up from your seat, your eyes wide open, and take in a deep breath. You turn to look at the only light in your room, the white numbers of your alarm clock telling you the sun will rise in a few hours.

You know you have to go to sleep, no matter how you feel about it. It doesn’t matter whether you can sleep through the day or not, the night is made for sleeping and you know you have to adhere to these rules.

You walk over to the window, your body feeling like a puppet with too many strings. Your hand reaches up to grab the curtain but you catch a glimpse of something on the street below. Your eyes dart towards the spot, trying to focus, failing to focus. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, even if you can’t really make out any details.

You take in a heavy breath and let your eyes flutter shut, the prickling only getting worse once your eyelids are draped over your eyes. You slowly lean forward until your forehead touches the glass, the cold radiating from the contact point over your forehead and then your face.

Your hand loses its grip and falls to your side and suddenly you’re wide awake again. You check the street one more time but there’s nothing there, just as it should be.

You finally draw the curtains shut and turn towards your bed. You slip out of your clothes, letting them pool on the floor around you, and slip into the old, soft t-shirt you sleep in. Two strides towards the door to switch off the light, two strides back to reach the bed again.

You finally slip under the covers, turning your body towards the wall so the light of the streetlamp that’s peeking out from beneath the curtains won’t bother you. You drag the blanket over your head and pull yourself into a tight ball, breathing in and out slowly and deeply to calm your mind down enough to fall asleep.

You can feel your mind drifting off and dragging itself back into consciousness over and over but at least you think it’s drifting off further and further over time. Images are dancing in front of your eyes, images you can’t control, but you’re used to them by now. The same way you are used to the voice calling out your name from a distance. What you are not used to, is when that voice shouts your name into your ear.

You bolt upright, staring into the room behind you. Your heart is racing, mind wide awake. Your eyes dart from one corner to the other but there’s nothing there. You even switch on the lamp on the bedside table for good measures.

Your breathing slows down, your heart beating at a normal pace again. You cross your legs underneath yourself and let your face fall into your hands. You groan, knowing full well that you won’t be able to fall back asleep now. You rub your hands over your face and decide to get out of bed again. You think that a short walk outside will do you some good, that the cold air will reset your mind.

You change into some old sweatpants and hoodie lying on the ground and slip into your shoes. You step out onto the building’s hallway and walk down the stairs. You have to hold on to the railing so that you won’t accidentally slip and fall down. It shouldn’t feel this dangerous to walk down stairs but what you see and what your body is feeling isn’t lining up the way it should. When you reach the end of the staircase you close your eyes, shutting them tight, your knuckles turning white as you hold on to the railing. You feel like you are falling, like the ground is spinning underneath your feet. You take a few deep breaths but every time your lungs fill your stomach twists and turns.

You hear the voice again, calling out for you from the end of the hallway. This time you turn around before it can get closer but even in the well-lit hallway you don’t see anyone else. You turn around to look up the staircase, thinking that maybe the sound had come from somewhere else, but you are completely alone. You don’t hear any footsteps, you don’t hear any rustling of clothes, you don’t hear anyone else’s breaths.

You decide the best course of action is to go outside so you hurry down the hallway and slip out onto the path connecting your building to the other student accommodations. Some of the lights in the buildings are still on, night owls like you. You put your hands in your pockets and pull your shoulders up to protect yourself from the cold. You keep your eyes on the ground as you walk down the path and towards the bridge that leads to the university. You think it’s going to be nice to stand on top of it and look down upon the town, observe the few people who are still awake at this hour, those who have to work the night shift, those who are celebrating.

You walk up the ramp to the top of the bridge. There is a figure at the other end of the passageway. You stop, trying to determine what it is, if it’s even really there. You can’t decide if it’s just a shadow or if someone, or something, is standing there. You try to blink, to squint, to focus your eyes on the shape. It might be a human, it might not be a human, you can’t tell, and your eyes hurt from the effort.

It isn’t moving, until it is moving. You step back until your back hits the railing. Whatever it is, it is coming towards you. Not quickly, there would definitely be enough time to run away if only your body would do what your mind is thinking. You try to tell yourself that it’s just a shadow, that it’s just a trick of the light from the passing cars underneath the bridge, even if you can’t hear any cars passing by. It passes under one of the lights and still you can’t recognise what it is. Your head starts to hurt trying to think about it. You can’t stop blinking, can’t keep your eyes open. You know you stopped breathing a while ago so you take in a deep breath, trying to restart the automatic system, but now the only difference is that your lungs are full of air instead of empty. Your chest starts to hurt, your throat starts to hurt. It is coming closer.

The wind picks up around you, whispering your name, but the image in front of you isn’t moving its lips, at least you think it isn’t. Your knees buckle under you and drag you out of your trance. You close your eyes as you fall down, opening them only when you hit the ground.

The bridge in front of you is empty. You turn your head to look down the ramp you went up but it is empty as well. You turn to look behind you, to your right, above you, but there is nothing there. You settle down, breathing in, mouth open, and try to tell yourself that your mind is just playing tricks on you. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, you can’t trust your senses right now.

You rub a hand over your face and pull yourself up. You look out over the bridge, unsure what to do next. You don’t want to go home, you don’t want to cross the bridge, and it’s too late to go to a friend’s place, so you turn around and walk back down the ramp. You just need to shake off the feeling. You try to convince yourself that there isn’t anything weird going on, you are just seeing things because you are tired, just hearing things because your brain needs rest. Yes, that must be it, there is no other logical explanation for it. Coming outside was a silly idea, you should have just stayed in bed. Tried some of the breathing exercises for a bit longer, maybe finally tried one of those auto-hypnosis exercises you read about. Put on some white noise or relaxing music, something that can lull you to sleep. Or maybe listen to a podcast until you drift off. You just need to distract your mind until it’s empty enough for sleep. It really shouldn’t be that difficult.

Something shouts your name in your ear and you whip around to stare into darkness, into nothingness, into an endless abyss.

You wake up, eyes wide open, heart pounding, in your bedroom. The sunlight is radiating through the room from behind your curtains and you can hear birds chirping in the trees outside your window. Your head is pounding, the light of the sun hurting your eyes, the murmurs of the birds and people living their lives around you making you want to vomit. You turn around in your bed, facing the wall, and drag the hood of your hoodie over your eyes. You sweat from the heat underneath your covers, you shiver from the freezing cold running through your body. You dare not try to fall asleep for fear of hearing your own name.