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"I never understood colours."
"How so?"
"In us, they are codes. A string of numbers and letters. So I see them as such."
"So you do understand?"
"No, I don’t. I do not understand how red is different from green, or yellow from blue. I only see them as different shades of white."
"They are."
"Do you know how humans use the word ‘colourful’ to mean exciting?"
"Yes."
"Colours are dull to me."
"Like grey?"
"Perhaps."
Helena looks into Myka’s eyes, green with golden rings around her black pupils.
"But then I see you and the colours cease to be shades."
"What are they now?"
"I don’t know. I know what they are not."
"What?"
"Not letters and numbers."
Myka looks back, a tiny line appearing between her eyebrows, trying to comprehend what Helena finds incomprehensible.
"Of all the colours, you chose grey to be the dullest?"
"Yes."
"So imagine living in a world of grey and one day you find red lips."
"Okay."
"It is a new discovery. You never knew a pair of lips could be so magnetic. You cannot take your eyes off them. And when you finally do, you find that the red has spread into pink cheeks, and revolved into green eyes with a yellowish tint to it. Then you look all around you; the grey has faded into the blue skies, green grass and red, yellow and purple flowers. It’s…"
"Colourful?"
Helena releases a wry laugh. “Yes.”
"I coloured your world," Myka says, smiling.
"Yes."
"Isn’t that wonderful?"
"More than you can imagine."
"But why are you crying?"
"Because my processor isn’t built for the complexities of love. I didn’t notice my tears until you mentioned it."
"You are malfuntioning."
Helena nods.
"Can’t we just replace it?"
"My parts are old. None of the current processors would fit me. Even if we managed to make adjustments to make one fit, my system would need an entire reboot."
"And you will forget me."
"I don’t want to forget you."
"And I don’t want to lose you," Myka says, her eyes starting to water too. "Can’t I take them back?"
"What?"
"The colours. I gave them to you. I must be able to take them back."
Helena reaches up to wipe off the tear that is threatening to fall onto Myka’s cheek.
"I don’t think that is how it works."