The Choice

For a long, long moment, I just stood and stared at him.  I forgot to blink, I forgot to breathe.  In that moment I was more of a machine than ever before, just because he had called me a human.

I thought about home, about my barn on the top of the hill in Bloomsy, about how I had plotted and planned and spied on my town, about how I had wanted these eyes so that I could see like them and be a part of them.  I thought about the time I had stumbled down the hill on the way to town, and they had laughed at me and I had vacuumed their rugs for them.  That was my home.

On the other hand, the pile of rubble in the eighth floor lab had also once been my home, and the skeleton on the floor had once been the person I cared about most in the world.  There I was, with eyes from California, and a body from Illinois.  I would never really be a whole person, wherever I went.

“I can’t come back with you,” I said.  “They know me at home, sort of accept me.  If you brought me home with you, as someone you…  someone you l-love, they’d think you were a freak.  You’re a human, you have to start reproducing to build the species back up.”

Our campfire flickered out, and as it did the moon grew brighter and brighter over our heads, and we stood there in the moonlight that made Lansdale look as silver as I was.

“Please come with me, Tina,” he said, and I was shocked by the sound of pleading in his voice.  “There’s room for everyone, even for someone made of metal, even for a freak like me who loves machines more than people.  You always call it the ‘Apocalypse’ or the ‘Crash’ or the ‘Collapse.’  You know what my mom calls it?”

“What?”

“‘The Great Okay.’  Everyone’s all right.  Everyone’s human.  Please, come with me.”

I sighed, a sigh that came down from bottom of my soul.  “Imagine” began playing softly in my head, a silly thing to think of at that time but I couldn’t help it.  I reached out for Lansdale’s hand.

“Bring me in, help me,” I said.  “I’m ready.”

He put his big arm around and drew me close, and I thought to myself, “Tina, this is the place where it all resets.”

NEXT TIME: The End