More Than a Machine

Halsa

hello i'm uploading after barely proofreading once again

my writing is dry like a block of dried out cheddar and as stale as a 50 year old tortilla chip, enjoy))))))

  642 did not sleep that night.

  His mind jumped from one plan to the next, one escape route to another. He was full of ideas. At one point, he even tried to hack into the technology that held his cell door closed, but it was impossible to access from the inside and doubly impossible with his wrists bound.

 What time was it? How much time had passed?

  642 couldn't tell. But he didn't rest. He would stay awake until his execution. Perhaps his final plan would take place when the guards came to get him.

  Finally the door slid open. Bright light from the hallway flooded into the cell. 642 squinted as his eyes adjusted.

  A silhouette stood in the doorway. It was small, and wore a long coat.

  The silhouette didn't belong to a guard. Nor did it belong to an officer. It was a woman. There were a few women officers in the facility, but this was definitely not one of them.

  "Hurry!" Her voice half-whispered. She stepped into the room. 

  With fumbling hands, the woman reached out and unlocked the handcuffs on 642's wrists. They fell to the floor with a clatter. "We don't have much time! Come!"

  642 stared at her.

  This little woman was a scientist. She was middle-aged, with a simple face, but her brown eyes filled with fear and urgency. She seized 642's arm. "Come on!"

  642 barely registered what she was saying. "You're a friend of L'othaim?" He questioned. He had seen this woman before, working along with all of the other scientists.

  "No. Well--yes? I don't know!" She gripped his arm and pulled him towards the door. "I'm helping you escape."

  642 still hesitated, but looking at the woman again, suddenly everything clicked. A scientist had left the courtroom during the trial. 642 had been the only one to notice, and even then it was just out of the corner of his eye. This was the same scientist.

  "You left the trial yesterday. Why?" Now he was moving, stepping out of the cell with her. "What's your name?"

  "Halsa," she swallowed, talking rapidly, "I loved a man. He reminds me of you." There was no further explanation of this. She continued to grip 642's arm as they headed down the hall.

  Just like L'othaim, Halsa had always been a follower of rules. A passive woman with a big mouth but a fearful disposition.

  And just like L'othaim, she was breaking rules in the case of 642. Her stomach reeled with the knowledge of what she was doing. Almost dizzy, she clutched 642 for support. Helping this violent, dangerous clone escape. What was she thinking?!

  "Where are the guards?" 642 looked around. There were no guards in sight.

  "You proved they could be lied to," she said shakily. "I told them that there's a security problem on the Production Floor."

  "Nice," was all 642 said. "So, this man--"

  "He doesn't matter," Halsa blurted out. "He doesn't matter now. You matter."

  They rounded a corner.

  There was an officer walking down the hall. He was still a ways off, but he heard the clatter of footsteps and turned to look. He froze when he saw the scientist and clone and immediately recognized 642. "Hey! Stop right there!"