Of Gears and Humanity

| 22.2

[DAMIEN]

Pain slid up my side as I limped down the halls. This place had been home to me. Now, the walls were foreign. The air was toxic. Each breath I sucked in through my teeth burned my lungs. Each step tore through my insides. There were tears in my eyes, sliding down my cheeks; to believe I had been lied to and being told straight to my face were two completely different things.

Sector One was my prison. The truth was simple.

But the fact remained... it was all I knew for so long. Arvon kept a veil over my head. The Attributions fed into the lie, molded it, formed it. It wasn't for me, but for them; for their longevity, their life, and their future. I was expendable, replaceable. I was nothing but human flesh.

Yet, despite it all, the crash of truths breaking free from the lies, I pushed myself through the halls to the room I knew. The place my heart welcomed every time.

My hand stretched out in front of me. Slowly, I grabbed the doorknob to the room at the end of the hall and turned. As it opened, the light from inside filled the space around me.

"Mother?"

"Damien?" Unique sat on my bed. She lifted her head at the sound of my voice. A robotic smile lifted her lips. "Come here, son."

Son. Her arms opened, welcoming me into her embrace. And like the boy I always was to her, I went. I kicked the door closed with one leg and crossed the room, dropping into her metal arms. My head pressed against her shoulder as she held me. The sounds of her gears whirring, functioning, was welcomed. My heart needed it.

"Are you okay, Damien?" she asked.

Her concern was always for me. Her love, though artificial, was mine, too. Lifting my head to look at her, her violet eyes reminded me of the reason I remained human; the love of a mother.

"Are you?" Hissing through the pain in my side, I shifted on top of my bed and sat beside her. "Arvon said—"

"Your father," Unique corrected me.

But I shook my head. "No, mother, I can't." I looked into her eyes. "I won't call him that. Not anymore."

A light flickered in her eyes as if she recorded what I said. For a moment, it scared me, because I'd never seen that in her before. The other Attributions had done it from time to time. But Unique? She was simple, an easy build.

Had Arvon changed that? Fixed her, as he said?

"I need to know if you're okay." I grabbed her hand. "He said you were..." I closed my eyes. "He said he performed a procedure on you. I was worried." Squeezing my eyes, I opened them, just as a tear fell. "Mother, I was worried my actions harmed you."

"Damien." Unique's hand touched my cheek. The cool plastic that made up her skin warmed me. And I leaned into her palm as she spoke. "There was no procedure done."

I frowned. "No there was. There had to be. Arvon wouldn't—"

I stopped. My eyes widened. I was about to say Arvon wouldn't lie. But he had lied to me my whole life. Keeping secrets was how he kept control of me. Enclosed me in a prison.

As it hit me, I clenched my jaw and looked down at my ribs. Fresh blood seeped through the bandage. A reopened wound because Arvon grabbed me, hurt me; something he had never done. Why lie to me about Unique? Why scare me?

"Why..."

"Why?" Unique placed her hand on my lap. When I looked at her, she smiled again. "Why did you believe there had been a procedure?"

I shook my head. "Because that night you protected me. You lied for me. And he said that was a very human thing to do."

A light flickered over her eyes again.

"But I'm happy he didn't." Sighing with relief, I slowly laid back on my bed. The covers weren't as soft as those in Homestead, but it was familiar to me. The bright lights hanging from the ceiling were, too. I placed my hands under my head as I smiled. "I wouldn't know what I'd do if he'd actually done something. You're my mother," my gaze moved over towards her, "and I love you."

"Oh, Damien." Unique stood from the bed. She stood over me for a moment before walking towards the cabinets in the corner of the room. From the top drawer, she pulled a medical kit, always kept close by in case I needed it. As she lifted the cover, she looked over at me. "I love you, too, son. But I do not know what you're talking about. I haven't seen you since you and your father returned from the materials run."

Slowly, I lifted my head. My hands slid down to my side as I balanced myself on my elbows. "What?"

"From Sector Seven." From the box, she pulled a fresh gauze and sanitizing wipe. With both in hand, she approached me. "You had delivered the materials needed for our fellow Attributions. I haven't seen you since."

Dread came over me. Arvon did delete her information. He wiped an entire day from her. The flicker in her eyes; was that a new change he'd installed? What did it do? What did he really do?

As she sat back on the bed and undid the bandage on my side, I watched her. She seemed as normal as she'd always been. Her love hadn't changed, the care and compassion in her voice remained the same. But she has no recollection of sitting outside with me under the moon; no recollection of lying to protect me.

A tear slid down my cheek.

I can't talk to her the way I want to.

"Your father said this wound was an accident. Carrying cargo." When she pressed the wipe against the cut on my side, I hissed. She pressed a caring hand across my forehead. "I've always cautioned you to be careful, Damien. Materials have weight, and I know you are strong, but," she smiled, "you are the last human. We need you."

I'm not the last human. And I need you.

Another tear fell from my eye.

"And don't worry. I know this hurts." Unique replaced the bandage, gently shifting me over to my side to wrap the wound. "I will clean this wound, and care for you. As a mother should with her son."

I laid my head back and let the last set of tears fall. Here Unique thought my tears were because I was in pain. But she didn't know how deep that pain flowed. Arvon took the humanity out of her. Deleted everything she'd learned from caring for me, growing with me.

What else would he take from me?

The thought terrified me.