Bleeding Blue

Bright lights shone from above. I looked around the shuffling train to see many bodies pressed against each other, and those who found some more comfort sitting down. I watched them. Their facial expressions differed not too much, and yet, I inferred such differing moods running through their minds. They all sat with their mouths either flat or somewhat grim, no wrinkles crumpling their face, and their brows relaxed. And yet, few looked down at their phones; I could see it—they were fine. It seemed not a single worrying thought ran through their complex brains. Then I glanced over to a man. He sat still with the same grim but fine-looking expression on his face. Yet, I saw the way the light shimmered and flickered in his eyes. I wondered; was this subtle sadness that humans try so hard to hide?

I then looked up before me. Another man stood hovering just above me with his hand wrapped around the iron bar filled with germs invisible to the naked eye; his knuckles paled in comparison to the rest of him. He, too, was locked into the flat screen beneath him. His lips were flat, like the rest; his brows stayed relaxed, but slightly more live than the rest; and yet, he did not seem sad like the man I’d just looked at. Nor did he seem bored but fine like the woman I’d looked at before that. Rather, he seemed more than just fine; he seemed at peace. Maybe excited, even.

I found myself intrigued. Then lines of doubt circulated through my neurons. How was I expected to fit into such a world—where everything seemed the same, but the littlest made all the difference? There was a complexity to them that I wasn’t sure I could fulfill, no matter how complex they’d made me.

I let my eyes wander again. Maybe if I analyzed them well enough, then I could mimic them to a T.

My brain tripped. Mimicking them was one thing, but I could not mimic the feelings that reached their core and touched their hearts.

My sight fell upon a man. His blue eyes stared right back at me. His brows were flatter than the rest. I could only infer a certain determination hidden behind his darkened eyes. I almost fell into a river of confusion as he only continued to stare at me, but then something about him looked familiar. I recycled my memories until his face focused in my mind’s eye. I quickly looked away. I knew it would not hide me from him, but I now found myself inevitably in a new mission.

Escape.

For the next few minutes as the train continued to run, I sat still in my seat. Then, my body unwillingly swayed to the right along with everybody around and beside me as the train came to a complete and halting stop. As soon as I heard the doors mechanically open, I rose to my feet and pushed past those in front of me. I ignored their annoyed whispers and quickened my pace, looking for the terminal exit. I analyzed within no time the surroundings that encased me and all these other beings. I quickly found the exit I so desperately looked for and raced towards it, shoving my way through the crowd. Once I stood up on the stairs to the world above, I looked back momentarily to see him pushing past the crowd in the same rushed manner I had. I quickly turned and ran up the stairs until I was met with the night’s stars burning bright. The moon was only half, and many more live bodies littered the streets of Ecrin City. I wasted no time in analyzing the view I’d seen a thousand times before and instead, turned the corner of the exit and kept my steps quick as I headed back home.

Gaining quite some distance, I looked back to see an empty street lingering behind me. I felt my gears relax. It was a wonderful feeling but I hoped to never be in such a situation again that I’d feel it again.

I looked back forward and continued in my footsteps. My mind stayed empty. Mind. Hmph.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a man standing before me. Tattered rags hung off his body, stained with different substances I cared not to analyze.

“I know a place we can go, sweetheart.” He took ahold of my wrist.

“Excuse me?”

His eyes suddenly widened as he squeezed my forearm. I pulled back from him and took a step away.

“You’re an android,” he said as if he’d come to an unexpected conclusion.

“Then come here!” He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me with him. I pulled against him and was doing a good job at it. He may have been a man, but I was still just as strong.

“Why are you resisting? Your only purpose here is to serve me, you plassy!” He pulled and pulled, and I pulled back using all my strength. I eventually pulled back so harshly that he fell to his face on the ground; his bulging gut being served instant pain. He groaned.

My gears turned faster and faster, uncontrollably. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just wanted him to let me go.

I saw headlights in the distance coming our way. I wanted to turn and run once more, but I felt something tying me down. I looked down to see the nasty man’s hand circling my ankle. I shifted my leg, but he wouldn’t let go.

“You little bitch!”

I felt my Cyberheart pumping erratically.

Suddenly, another sound entered my ear—a light, female voice that sounded highly robotic.

‘System overheating. System overheating.’

The headlights began to pull over to us. I looked down at the man and kicked at his hand. All my senses perched high as I saw that his grip was suddenly stronger than before.

I watched the car as it parked, and the driver’s door opened. A man stepped out—his jawline sharp, yet smooth; his brows perfectly bushy; and his eyes dark as he looked down on the man before me.

“Alright, that’s it. Let her go.” He walked up to the man and kicked at his hand.

“Who the hell are you?!” The dirty man looked up at the other one.

I roamed my eyes over this new man. His eyes weren’t angled at me, but rather the human. I looked down to see the golden badge reflecting the moonlight above; it was hitched to his belt. It shimmered. On it were the letters ECPD crowning a colored emblem that differed from the golden thick borders that surrounded it.

“I’m a detective. Let the woman go.” He raised his foot and hovered it over the man’s wrist. The homeless man’s eyes glanced at the threat looming over his arm, then to the golden shine on the detective’s hip, and then back up to the detective’s face.

The man released my ankle, and I stumbled back slightly. He propped himself up and found his footing as he dusted off his clothes.

“That woman ain’t no damn woman. Issa damn android!” He fixed his shirt as if it had been prim and proper before.

The gears in my head tussled back and forth as I watched the situation unfold before me. Upon the revelation of what I was, I backed up, keeping my eyes on the detective. But he did not turn to me. Instead, his eyes remained on the nasty man.

“Yeah, all right. Move it before you get arrested.” He placed his hand on the man’s chest and shoved him.

“Let me rough her up a little man! Just lemme have sex with her, man! It ain’t like she gon’ feel it!”

I backed up as the detective suddenly turned to me.

“Would you like to press charges?”

Confusion littered me; it made me feel like my system was about to crash. He could have arrested me instead — sent me back to ViDream to get dismantled and join the rest of the bolts and metals that littered their dump and recycled bins. He could let the man have his way with me and go about his night. But he was helping me. Why?

“I am an android.” Could I do that? All androids except me were made to serve humans and do all the work society wanted to give up. Could I press charges as one? The question lingered in my head.

Not many knew I was an android. It was meant to stay that way. I was the first of my kind—made to integrate into human life and society as if I were one of them. My creators put a lot of work in to make me different from the other androids—more complex and capable of deeper things than the rest. But why did I still feel singled out from the entire world?

I knew I was the first and as far as I knew, the only. But that was only for now. How could I find myself being special when my creators probably already got to working on more androids like me? Or maybe they wanted to capture me first.

“Your point?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Would there be any justice for me?”

“Why are you conversing with that plassy?!” The man’s rough voice pierced the peaceful night air again. The detective looked back, and the man immediately looked away, as if minding his own business. The detective then faced me once more.

“Probably not. But if you want, it’s worth a try.” He didn’t hide the brutal truth.

I already knew I didn’t want to press charges. I was hiding from those who tried so desperately for two years now to catch me. The last thing I needed was my name or my information, or anything about me in a file for them to easily discover. And this incident was nothing. This wasn’t what I had to fear in the end.

“I do not wish to. But thank you, Detective…?” I left room for him to fit in the missing information.

“Arden.”

“Thank you, Detective Arden.”

“You’re free to go now.”

I nodded and wasted not another second standing there. Although things went better than I expected, I still wanted to be nowhere near here. I turned and continued heading my way home.

With my mind shut off from thoughts as I wandered through the streets, it felt like I’d arrived home in no time. I stood before the disheveled building that loomed over me. It was in just as many tatters as that harasser-man’s clothes. I entered. Many metal and rusted beams crossed high, way above where I stood. The ceiling pointed sharply towards the sky that I could only see in holes through the opaque glass that formed the angled rooftop.

Many staircases led upstairs—their condition in as equal disarray and rust as every other structure that comprised this factory. Thick, rusted engines stood idly by, and debris littered the ground: metal scraps, torn cloth, and old, dried-up smears of blue liquid I assumed to be blue blood. I roamed my vision over every inch and surface visible to me. Sensing nothing, I kept my hands stuffed in my thick coat pocket and went upstairs.

From up here, I could see the base floor. I tore my eye from all the tatters, though. I didn’t mind it. I couldn’t mind it. It was all I had, and I was fine with it. Comfort wasn’t something I was sure I could feel anyway.

I stepped over the many pipes, thick, big, and small that littered the concrete floor. I passed under a translucent sheet that hung over something, giving off a square shape. I pulled the drapes aside and crawled into it. I felt the soft fabric crumple below me as I set myself properly.I was ready to retire for the night—let my mind shut completely off and wait until it turned itself back on again once morning rose.

What would I do tomorrow? I didn’t wonder about it.