Artificial Heart
15

‘Who are you?’ asked a tall thin man in the middle. He had a black moustache. He sounded American. He wore wearing a long-sleeved business shirt rolled up to the elbows. His shoes were shiny.

‘No. Ask me about the ship. About Alf.’ She bit down on her lip. Alf? She actually said that?

‘Who is Alf?’

‘It is … it is the name I gave him—the alien.’ She gripped her hands in front of her.

‘You call him Alf?’ came an unidentifiable accent further down the line.

The surprise and genuine humour in the man’s voice lightened the mood slightly. Two of the men exchanged smirks then leaned in to speak to each other, passing Prisha furtive glances.

‘He’s—he’s quite unique,’ Prisha said. ‘He’s very nice.’

And she went ahead explained everything she could about him. His sweetness. His kindness. His intelligence. All that stuck out about him. She told them what she knew about his origins. Unsurprisingly his artificial/organic makeup was what most fascinated them. They asked her several technical questions she couldn’t understand.

‘He is on the ship at the moment, watching and listening,’ she said.

It was a lie. She had no idea if he could hear anything at all. But it made her feel safer telling them so. A light threat. Did the helmet have some kind of microphone that relayed back to Alf? It seemed likely.

‘Why isn’t he talking with us?’

Another accent. British? Four out of the seven of them sounded American. Was she in America? She looked around and shivered against the cool night air. It smelled different. The air felt different against her skin. Even the grass felt strange against the soles of her shoes. The trees seemed alien.

‘He can’t speak our language.’ She went to tap her temple and bumped her knuckles again. ‘I think … I think he put something in my head, so I can speak with him, though I don’t notice I’m doing it.’

That stirred a lot of interest. The tall, thin man with the black moustache was studying her with uncomfortable intensity. A few of the others watched her too closely. Prisha’s skin prickled. Once more, she was eternally grateful for Alf’s helmet.

She went on to explain what she knew of the ship. She was feeling much more stupid now, much more out of her comfort zone, but surprisingly nobody seemed disdainful or frustrated or annoyed. Perhaps the simple description was preferable.

None of the seven figures moved from their spots, though they would whisper in each other’s ears now and then. The men in the back—the so-called bodyguards with their weapons—hadn’t moved either. The tall shaggy, unfamiliar trees waved in the breeze.

‘And that’s really all I can say about that,’ Prisha said. She shifted awkwardly. ‘Sorry.’

‘Why you?’ a woman near the end asked.

‘It was an accident.’ Prisha didn’t elaborate. The less they knew about her abduction, the better. Besides, her association with Alf was private, something she wanted to keep to herself.

‘Why is he here? Why did he make contact?’

Prisha relayed what he’d told her. She fumbled with her explanation because he hadn’t really told her anything. ‘He says we’re in trouble. He says the survival of our sp-civilisation may depend on it.’

‘In what way?’

‘You know what way.’

They were quiet. They all looked at each other.

‘Apparently, tonight is only an introduction.’ Prisha shrugged. ‘I suppose there’ll be more meetings.’

‘Do you trust him?’ spoke the woman.

‘Trust him with what?’

‘With us.’

Prisha was surprised they cared about her opinion. ’He has been very kind, very gentle, very … human, I suppose I would say … I trust him with me. So … yes, I trust him with us.’ She turned to look at the ship, smiling behind her helmet.

The woman was gazing at her. Two of the men put their heads together, murmuring. The tall moustached man’s eyes had not left her the whole time. They were like two little drills boring holes through Alf’s helmet. Prisha didn’t like it.

‘What is your name?’ he said.

‘I won’t tell you.’

‘Why?’

‘There’s no way I want you to know.’ Prisha raised her hands and took a step back. ‘If that’s all …’

They hurled more questions at her but Prisha continued to back away, heart thudding, sweating in her shirt despite the cool. It was enough. More than enough. She’d had enough. Time to get back to Alf.

They didn’t try to stop her, not moving past the witches hats. They called for her to come back but Prisha turned and hurried, almost ran, up the ramp.

She was breathless when she reached the inside of the ship. Immediately, the ramp began to raise. She turned and watched but nobody followed her. Alf was in the shadows. Only when the ramp had closed, did he reveal himself, sitting back at the controls.

The ship promptly lifted. Prisha didn’t begin to relax until they were well away from land. Her thighs felt tight. Her hands were shaking. She sat down with a heavy thump beside him. The helmet banged against the metal of the control bench as she dropped her head against it.

‘You did well,’ Alf said.

‘I did?’ Prisha sat up. He was sitting tall in his seat, gazing through the window as they continued their journey into space. ‘Did you hear it?’

‘Every word.’

‘And you saw them?’

‘Yes.’

‘What do you think?’

‘It went as I suspected it would.’

‘Huh … A big risk. What if they attacked the ship? What if they went for me?’

‘They would not.’

‘You’re so sure.’

He looked at her. The red light of his eye was very bright. ‘You are not a stupid species.’

’Uh … thank you. I guess.’ Prisha gripped at the bottom of her helmet. ’Can you help me get this off? Right now.’

He reached over, released something at her neck and gently eased it away. The interior unsuctioned from her face and throat. Then she was free. He put it on the bench. Prisha took several long deep breaths. Alf was gazing at her, both his eyes blinking slowly in that eerie out of sync way.

‘You owe me something,’ Prisha said. ’Big time.’

Alf stood. Prisha did the same. He grabbed her, pulling her into a giant hug, warmer and longer and harder than the last. Prisha breathed in the smell of his suit as she hugged him tightly back.

‘I don’t want to go back home,’ she said.

‘You have another four hours, then I must. It will be nightfall at your location by then.’

‘But it’s not even close to seventy-two hours yet.’

‘Seventy-two hours until death. My reserves of breathable air, liveable atmosphere and gravitational determinants are already being stretched.’

‘Oh.’ She frowned. ’Really? But I haven’t been on here that long.’

He didn’t say anything.

‘Will I see you again?’

‘Yes.’

‘For more of these meetings?’

‘Yes.’

‘And then what?’

‘I do not know.’

Prisha sighed. ’Come with me then.’

No response.

‘Wouldn’t that be funny?’ she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

‘Dangerous. Impossible.’

‘I know.’

Finally, Prisha pulled away. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘Don’t take too long.’ Shit bit down on her trembling lip, surprised by her rush of grief. ‘I’ll miss you.’

‘I will miss you too.’

Prisha turned away. Leaning her head back, she pinched her nose and let the tears drain down her throat. After a deep exhale, she managed to control herself. Why was she so upset? She hardly knew him. But it wasn’t just him—it was everything. The adventure. The mystery. The thrill. Though he was a major part of it.

A large warm hand landed on her shoulder. She jerked.

‘Sorry,’ Prisha gasped. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ She gave him a quavering smile. ‘I still have four hours with you. What should we do?’

‘I do not know.’

‘Well … what do you usually do in your free time?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ She looked around the ship. ‘You don’t entertain yourself?’

‘I recover in my battery chamber between designations.’

‘Battery chamber?’

Alf went over to a portion of the wall near her bed. He waved his hand and another compartment slid open. ‘That’s where you sleep?’

‘Recover/sleep. Yes.’

There was shiny white plastic with a human-like groove in the middle of it. All around it were blinking lights and tubes.

‘So, you just sleep while you’re not … data collecting?’

‘Yes. Usually.’

‘Usually?’

‘Until recently.’

Prisha frowned. ‘So … you don’t have an actual life? Do you even talk to anyone?’

‘I talk to you.’

‘Other than me?’

‘I must report back to Command.’

‘No. Outside of your job. Don’t you have family or friends?’

‘There is nothing outside of my designations.’

Prisha blinked. ‘Of course not. They erased your memory. Aren’t you lonely?’

He gazed into her eyes.

‘How long have you been out on this ship alone?’

‘I do not know.’

‘A long time, though?’

‘Longer than your lifetime.’

’Oh … Alf.’ Prisha’s throat swelled. ‘How can you accept this? This is not a life.’

‘It is what I am—I am a discard. The disposable remnants of a greater me. It is good that I am useful.’

’You’re not trash, Alf! And you are useful! How can you say that? No offence, but your so-called greater you sounds like a fucking asshole.’ Prisha shook her head. ’No wonder. No wonder.’

Her throat swelled further. There was a lurch in Prisha’s chest and suddenly she was stepping in and hugging him again.

‘You feel good,’ she murmured. ‘Tell me, Alf, if you’re just a discard with no real purpose outside of your “designations”, then why do I like you so much?’

She pressed her cheek against his shoulder.

‘You feel good also,’ he said, tightening his arms around her.

Prisha looked up at him as he looked down at her. His red eye was glowing. Another sharp urge pulled her up on her toes. She kissed him. It was brief. Innocent. Shocking. Just a little peck. But so unbelievably earth-shattering.

‘Sorry,’ she said quickly. Her whole face felt like it was on fire. Did she just do that?

She tried to step back but he was still holding her. His brown eye was glittering in a way she hadn’t yet seen. His forehead furrowed. His red eye trembled in its socket. Then he leaned in. Prisha sucked in a startled breath as he kissed her the same way—an innocent peck. Brief but powerful.

His expression was impossible to read. Did he like it? Was it a mistake? He was still holding her—that was a good sign. And that eye …

Prisha’s heart was thudding.

‘That was nice,’ she said breathlessly. ’Did you—did you like it?’

‘Yes.’

Prisha grinned. ‘I’m glad.’

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