Artificial Heart
7

Prisha slapped at her arm as something bit her. She slapped a second time, a third time. Grumbling to herself, she made her way back to camp. Her headlight flashed as she stumbled her way over the creek bed. Red light blazed in return. She froze. She turned, heart knocking against her ribs.

It was back. He was back. The red light!

She raced back. In her excitement, she tripped over a rock and fell into the water. She hardly felt the wet or the pain as she leapt back to her feet and hurried onwards. She stopped, panting, as she stepped into the clearing.

It was right there. Just as she remembered. Almost. It was so much more than what she remembered. The real thing. Not just a fantasy. Not just a memory. The tears built in her eyes and she was suddenly glad that it was raining so he wouldn’t see.

The ramp was down and waiting just like the last time. Debris crunched under her boots, sounding like little explosions in her ears, even against the croaking of the frogs. She licked the water from her lips, pulling her hood further over her head as it rained harder.

It was no less surreal than last time. Her boots hit the ramp with a metallic thud, and then she was ascending. She was inside. She switched off her headlamp. As her eyes adjusted, she saw him. In the same seat, at the same controls.

The ramp closed shut behind her. The rain continued, though she couldn’t hear it. It wasn’t trickling down the windshield either, as though something was protecting the glass. Maybe. Maybe not. Prisha released a whistling breath.

‘Hello,’ she said in a high voice, as high as a child’s. She bit down hard on her lip.

He seemed larger than she remembered. Stranger. His helmet gleamed against the light. He was wearing the same greyish-white suit. His hands were gloved again. Prisha tucked her own hands under her armpits as she shivered. Water was dripping from her clothes into a puddle on the floor. Lightning streaked across the sky.

‘Thank you for coming back,’ she said and immediately flushed. Was that a stupid thing to say?

He moved his hands across the controls and the view in the window shifted as they lifted off. The air hitched in Prisha’s throat. This was what she wanted. There was no point feeling regretful now.

Not knowing what to do, she simply stood in the middle of the ship clutching onto herself as she shivered with cold and dread and anticipation and an innumerable unnameable emotions. She watched as the window filled with the storm. Then the black clouds swallowed them up like an ocean.

A bright streak of lightning made her jump. She couldn’t hear the thunder. He didn’t seem concerned that they might get hit. Moments later, they surfaced. More black clouds drifted ahead. More lightning flashed in their bellies. Prisha stared. To be so close to so much quiet ferocity—it was exhilarating. It was terrifying. And then they were beyond. Prisha blinked as twinkling stars replaced the turmoil. The grey of the sky turned to black.

Somehow everything felt quieter. Deeper. It felt like a transition; a step out of life and into death.

The ultimate unknown.

The alien relaxed in his seat. His seat turned. Prisha opened and shut her mouth. She cleared her throat. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t make it here last time.’

Nothing. No movement. Utter stillness. Too still. Like he wasn’t quite real. Prisha reached up to grip her throat. ‘What are you going to do with me?’

No answer.

’What have you done with me? I feel—I feel different. Both better and sicker at the same time. You had me four days. What did you do to me?’ She looked over towards the door that led into the room with the bench. All the technology. The restraints. The helplessness. The giant alien standing over her as tall as a building.

She shivered.

Prisha tapped at her heart. ‘You’ve done something to me here. You’ve made me better.’ She lowered her hand to her pelvis, then touched her head. ‘Here and here, you’ve made me worse.’ She swallowed. Her teeth started to chatter. Her skin prickled with goose bumps.

Slowly, the alien stood. Prisha craned her head back as he approached. The trembling turned more violent. She took a step back and raised her hands.

‘You are wet.’

‘It was raining. What are you doing?’ she cried as he grabbed her wrist. He grabbed at her rain jacket and yanked it off. Then he was yanking off her shirt. ‘Hey! Stop it!’ She tried to slap his hand away but her shirt was gone. She was almost naked! She wrapped her arms around her bra. Then he was after her pants and. ‘Stop! What the hell!’

Awkwardly, with one arm, she tried to cover her breasts as she tried to keep up her pants with the other. He yanked them right out of her grip. She staggered as he pulled her out of them with astonishing strength. Prisha backed away until she was pressed up against the wall, hunched over as she tried to conceal her almost nakedness. He didn’t seem to notice as he went over to the same cupboard as the last time and fetched another one of those blankets.

‘How many of those have you got in there?’ Prisha asked, legs crossed, bent over herself.

She jerked as he touched her. Her fear faded as he wrapped the blanket tightly around her, just like the last time.

Her clothes sat in a wet pile on the floor. He was so close Prisha’s skin prickled. She couldn’t help but stare up at him, trying her best to peer into his visor. But again, all she could see was her own reflection, hair plastered to her head, eyes bright with astonishment.

‘Keep warm,’ he said.

‘Why does it matter?’ This was getting a lot more intimate than she’d anticipated. ‘Show me your face.’

He didn’t respond.

‘I want to see you,’ she said.

‘No.’

’What have you done to me? Why did you have me four days?’

‘Data collection.’

‘D-data? What do you mean? I’m just data to you?’

He stepped back. Prisha thought about her headache. She thought about her abdomen. ’What did you do? What did you take?’

His hand snapped out, seizing her arm. He lifted it up. Prisha scrambled for the blanket as it fell from her shoulders. She managed to snag it and clutch it to herself.

He pointed at something in her armpit. ‘There.’

Prisha tried to look. She squinted against the gloom but couldn’t see. Dropping the blanket, she reached over to touch herself. Her eyebrows shot up. It felt like a scar. The alien traced his gloved finger from her armpit, right across her left breast to the middle of her chest. Prisha tried not to shiver.

‘You are repaired,’ he said.

He released her arm. Prisha pressed her hand to her chest, then suddenly snatched up the blanket.

‘So-so it’s true. Th-thank you.’

He nodded.

‘Why?’

‘Why not?’ He paused. ‘I must do more.’

‘Do-do more?’

‘Data collection.’

‘On-on me?’

He nodded. Prisha clutched the blanket more tightly to herself. ‘I don’t think I want you to.’

The blinking lights of the interior flashed against his visor.

‘I was sick,’ she explained. ‘I was in hospital. I don’t want to go there again.’

He stepped towards her. Prisha stepped back.

‘It is data collection,’ he said. ‘It must be done.’

Prisha’s throat was dry as she swallowed. ‘Will it hurt?’

‘No.’

Prisha licked her lips. ‘If I let you, I want to come back. A third time, I mean.’

‘Agreed.’ And then he seized her wrist and dragged her over to the door.

‘Hey! Hey! Give a moment! Jesus!’ She wrenched her arm away, stumbling in surprise as he released her. ’What the hell is wrong with you! I’m not just … I’m not just data! Be gentle!’

Prisha was astonished at herself, confronting this creature in such away. To return to him. To allow him to do … things to her. What the hell was wrong with her? Did she have such a boring, pointless life that she didn’t care about … well … anything?

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’ she gasped.

The blanket was gone. On the floor. Almost forgotten. Again, he didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t seem to notice much in that particular category anyway. Prisha was panting. The air felt hard in her chest. The alien hardly moved. Still as a statue. He hardly breathed. He wasn’t breathing.

‘Are you even real?’ she said stupidly. She shook her head. ‘I mean … are you even alive?’ She thought back to all of his unusual movements, the stilted, almost emotionless way he spoke. ‘A drone,’ she murmured to herself, suddenly remembering their last conversation. ’You said you were a drone. Are you a … are you a robot?’

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