Chapter Text
I saw him one day when I had finally dragged myself out of bed to visit my father’s grave. It had been a day like any other—utterly unproductive and full of meaninglessness, basking in the cushiness of my life—until I crossed paths with him again. I stood there frozen as Markus’ eyes passed over me. I realized that I hadn’t known what to expect, if I’d ever see him again after the last chance meeting. Sure, I’d heard on the news that he was part of some sort of android terrorist campaign, but that was so far away from me, almost fictional. Yet for the first time in a while, reality was staring me in the face. I immediately wanted to flee back to the safety of my cottage, away from all the noise and conflict. After wrestling with the guilt of my father’s death for some time, I couldn’t stand to even be around my normal, drug-addled friends. It would have been so easy to do so. No one was there to stop me. No one could tell me that I shouldn’t be pissing away my life. No one cared. One day, I simply stopped receiving their calls. I stopped receiving all calls and I found more solace being alone with my thoughts. I wanted to finally think about things without everything being so muddled. I wanted some clarity—a far cry from the haze I’d been in for years. Too stupid to grasp anything past my own needs.
No words passed between us, but after that moment slipped away, I knew I wanted to apologize. I had to. He was already turning away and I felt as if he would be gone forever, if I didn’t say something quick.
“Markus, I’m—
I was interrupted when he put up a quieting hand and then shook his head no slowly. It was clear that he didn’t want to hear anything from me. I suppose that was understandable, but it was no less frustrating. I didn’t dare push the issue, however. Thinking back, I’d heard some unsettling reports on the news involving him. He was capable of killing humans in cold blood. On the other hand, he’d also taken over an entire newscasting building without resulting in any casualties. I wondered which Markus was standing before me now.
Markus wore a mask of despondency, but his expression soon became stony as his light eyes flickered away from me. He continued on his way and I made no more comment, but I found myself gazing after him for some time. In fact, my eyes remained on him until I could no longer make him out in the distance. I wondered where he was headed. I wondered what had prompted him to visit my father’s grave that day.
The fact that I couldn’t finish my sentence bothered me and I knew it would bother me until I actually apologized to him. Not that I thought it would be enough to mend all that had happened, but it would certainly make me feel a lot better if Markus understood even if he was an android. There had always been so much bright intelligence behind Markus’ eyes. I’d be a fool to think he wouldn’t be able to grasp the concept of accepting one’s apology.
I would often catch Markus reading my father’s philosophical books and it always gave me an eerie feeling. How much of that did he comprehend? Why was my father always encouraging such odd behavior? Sometimes I’d overhear him talking with my father and I'd hardly be able to understand anything they were discussing. I remember a time when my mind was quite clouded being utterly fascinated as I stood just behind a corner listening to them go on and on about the finer points of Aristotle’s Nicomachaen Ethics. It wasn’t that it was difficult to understand—though it was to a certain degree—but that they were conversing about things I’d never thought about to any great lengths. In hindsight, it would have been nice to see if they reached any conclusions, but my addiction had had a stronger hold on me and money had run dry once again.
If someone asked me if that same android was capable of doing the things I was hearing about, I’d give them a wholehearted yes and I’d blame my father for planting such fantastical thoughts into his mind. But those thoughts had already been planted and they had flourished—it was too late to change things as they were now. These days, I was being bombarded on the internet with content about whether androids even knew what “freedom” meant and what it entailed. Everyone seemed to have an opinion, even those who had no idea what they were talking about. I wasn’t much better, but I couldn’t see what the big deal was. I didn’t understand why there were even debates being had. Maybe I’m a bit too simplistic. If my toaster demonstrated to me the same sort of intelligence as Markus and asked that it not be so dependent on me and to be treated equally, I’d simply acquiesce. Clearly, if anything could ask those things, then it was time to give it.
No one wanted to admit that perhaps we’d made a mistake in making them so human and so capable. I find it difficult to believe that the ones who created them really had no idea. Everyone was silent on that kind of thinking. I’m not one to believe in conspiracies, but this doesn’t seem like something that happened accidentally. All those smart people at CyberLife apparently didn’t do enough mock testing to realize that their androids were not simply machines anymore? They apparently didn’t realize that after a certain point as far as intellect and understanding goes, they were no different from us? I seriously doubt it.
I haven’t spent a lot of time with androids personally. I’d seen a few in passing. None of them were quite like Markus though, but then I doubt owners were constantly prodding their androids to push the boundaries of their supposed understanding of the world. It wasn’t completely unheard of though. Out in the ether, there were many people out there who already believed that androids were no different from us—we called them crazy and off the wall—but still, it was out there. There were many stories of people who had formed relationships with androids. Every once in awhile there would be some news report about someone claiming to have fallen in love with an android. As places like Eden Club became more prominent, it hadn’t been so much of a stretch, but we all assumed that these people weren’t normal. These were just sad, lonely people that wanted their five minutes of fame.
Or maybe they had simply been smarter than all of us.
I’m sure that small percentage of people out there—those who already believed that their androids were more than what they seemed—felt quite validated right now. Perhaps they hadn’t imagined an entire movement, but it was just as well. One of my friends, Derrick, was known for his stance on androids and how it should be illegal and punishable by law to mistreat them to the point that he’d changed quite a few minds on the issue in my circle of friends. Don’t get him started on androids because he could talk everyone’s ears off about his grievances of their station in life. It was all fun and games. He also died a few weeks ago from overdosing, but that was beside the point. He’d been right.
Derrick’s grave wasn’t out here with the likes of my father. He couldn’t keep a job to save his life and his family simply wasn’t part of his life. I got the impression that he simply didn’t have very much family to begin with and that they’d likely been poor. The local authorities took care of his affairs. One day he was there, the next he was gone. Even that hadn’t stopped my ongoing addiction, but sometimes, every once in a while, I find myself mourning his death knowing that no one else likely was.
I stood where Markus must have just been. I looked to the ground to find his footprints trailing away, but then I returned my sights to the gray stone, my father’s final resting place. Honestly, I don’t know why I was here today. Me being here doesn’t change anything. In fact, I felt no different now than I had yesterday. I still felt empty. I still felt like I wanted to be alone. I still felt incredibly useless. Though I’d always felt these things even before his death, it had never been at such a staggering degree and I no longer had the drugs to dull the pain. I still really had no way to cope with anything. I certainly couldn’t help the hot tears from coming.
I could lapse back any day now. No one would care. Maybe death was a thing to look forward to. It seemed peaceful. What would my father say if he saw me now? Actually, I couldn’t really imagine it. I didn’t know him that well. My relationship with him seemed to always be centered around red ice. He seemed to always want what was best for me. Maybe if he could see me now, he might actually smile at me and we could sit down and have a real conversation about—I don’t know what about, but something not involving drugs. We could finally get to know each other. It was too late for those silly kinds of thoughts, far too late. I’d pissed away any chance of that happening. Everything was probably my fault, it was pretty safe to say.
I stayed for a while longer and trudged back to my car only to sit there longer in silence as I continued to cry. It felt nice to do so without any interruption. I was just sad and I didn’t feel like trying to reason out why. It was simply how I felt. I doubt I could ever feel anything else besides.
//
One day, I found the heterochromatic android at my father’s grave again and I felt my heart skip a beat and a sliver of fear roll down my back. There was no reason to believe that he’d never show up again, but it was still a surprise. I visited sporadically just to say that I did something of some meaning that day. I never felt accomplished afterwards. Some small part of me thought of it as a kind of punishment to keep reminding myself of what my own actions had led to. Even more sickening was how much I had benefited from his death. I knew I was utterly trash when I, in fact, enjoyed not having to work for the kind of wealth I had attained so instantaneously. I could afford to be just as aimless as ever. I could afford to ponder on things I hadn’t before. I could afford to build my own world which included only myself. I was free to do those things.
Relations with androids continued to be shaky despite the peaceful protest that Markus had led—an event that had been plastered on the news for months and was still mentioned to this day. His name was on everyone’s lips and his cause seemed to permeate every facet of the world. I watched him from a distance for a time, trying to imagine how chaotic his life must be. How many times had I seen Markus on television doing interviews after interviews, most of them turning into a heated debate? How many times had the news covered the multitude of meetings that were being had with government officials? How many more marches and demonstrations had occurred? How many times had he been blamed for anything bad that happened because of it? Yet he still had time for this. I wondered if I shouldn’t just turn back around and leave him in peace, but there was something I still wanted to do. I didn’t think I’d have the chance again. This might be the last one.
I moved to his position slowly so as not to startle him, but I also did not disguise my footsteps—I wanted him to know that someone else was there. He didn’t even so much as glance my way and I felt a little awkward when I wound up standing beside him in silence. The hairs stood on the back of my neck as the silence grew longer and colder. Maybe I needed to say something first.
“Markus, I’m sorry for what happened—I mean back then when…” My words failed me when he finally acknowledged my presence. He seemed weary and his knitted brow indicated that I was doing little more than annoying him. His eyes lingered on me a bit longer and his expression seemed to lighten a bit.
“You seem different from before,” Markus finally said to me.
“Really? I mean, yeah, I’m not…doing the same things I was before.”
“I see,” he replied heavily. He studied me a bit longer. “In some ways, you resemble him, your father.”
“First I’ve ever heard of that, everyone says I look just like my mom and I couldn’t paint anything to save my life.”
“Even so,” he replied unperturbed.
“Oh, well…” I began uncertainly, but I didn’t have anything of substance to say and his eyes had returned to the massive stone before them. When he started to move away likely to return to his restless life, I felt I needed to say something more since he seemed somewhat amicable. “Wait, I…”
Markus paused with his back turned towards me.
“I was just thinking—” I was running on autopilot just letting the words flow from me. I hadn’t spoken to anyone in quite some time. “—maybe, if you need any help…I could help you.”
“With what exactly?” he questioned smoothly.
“You know, with the stuff you’ve been doing lately.” As soon as I said that, I felt silly saying it. I wasn’t being very specific, but I didn’t care about the specifics. Helping him and his cause seemed to be a fitting thing to do considering all that had transpired.
I imagined he was considering my words when he didn’t reply immediately. He answered a few moments later. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“What? Why not? Seems like you could use all the help you can get.”
Markus turned back to me now. “Beggars can’t be choosers, but it sounds as if you haven’t given any of this serious thought. I’d rather not add more flaky humans to my list of concerns.”
“Flaky?” I said with some surprise not expecting such language from an android. Then again, perhaps it was an apt description.
Markus seemed to be waiting for my retort as he watched me with a raised eyebrow, but I didn’t have the courage to say anything further. I thought I noticed a bit of a grin on his face, but I couldn’t be sure. With this he turned once again to be on his way, but I still felt like I needed to say something more. Maybe I just wanted him to say something that might give me some closure. I took a few steps towards his retreating form.
“Why do you keep coming here?” I asked in a raised voice so that he might hear.
He didn’t respond and I pursued him further until he stopped in his tracks.
“What do you want from me, Leo?” he asked exasperatedly.
He’d never used my name before and it felt strange that he addressed me so directly. “I just…I don’t know…” I really had no idea. It was difficult to decipher my own thoughts. “I mean, do you forgive me?”
“None of that matters now. I suggest you find solace elsewhere.”
My eyes were beginning to sting again. I really did not want to start tearing up in his presence, but crying was never a thing that I could control. Besides, he was turned from me, he wouldn’t see anything. Surprisingly, he spoke further.
“All that’s left is his legacy. How you choose to honor it, is up to you and no one else.”
I was speechless in his wake as his form began to retreat further. This time I did not stop him. I was far too consumed with my own thoughts. I don’t know how long I stood there motionlessly but it still wasn’t long enough to comfortably quell all my emerging concerns. Once again, I wish I’d known my father better. Markus certainly didn’t have that problem.
At night, I wrestled with my thoughts and my guilt. How could I honor his memory? What was I even doing to those ends? What could I be doing? Did I want to do anything? What new levels of worthlessness would I stoop to if I ignored any notion of doing something further? It wasn’t required of me. I could continue on as I was and no one would care.
And I did nothing about my dilemma, deciding that it would be better to ignore those questions which had scary answers. What would helping Markus entail anyway? Did I really want to invite such adversity and ruckus into my life when it was so peaceful now? I could close my door and not have to deal with androids or any of their problems.
I wondered how it might be like to be an android. One had no choice but to face the realities of the world. One couldn’t simply decide one day to include themselves in the ongoing fight. It sounded depressing. It sounded utterly stressful. I wouldn’t be able to carry on that way. Maybe that was why I found Markus at the cemetery—he also couldn’t carry on that way indefinitely.
I was glad he’d denied my request to help. I was just saying things because it sounded like it was proper to say. It was as if, well, I’m ashamed to admit this, but it was as if I had been trying to have him validate me. I wanted him to tell me that I was fine, that I was doing the right thing and that I didn’t need to change anything. He didn’t give me that. I don’t know why I thought he would. Why would the word of an android even matter that much to me? I knew that Markus wasn’t just any android though. I knew that my father trusted him, even more, my father loved him. Since I trusted my father’s judgement, then that was enough reason to follow in suit. Just from the limited conversation I’d had with him—I could understand why my father felt that way about him.
Markus seemed quite canny and observant, someone who chose his words carefully and was not taken with rash decisions. Simply being in his presence for a short time allowed me to feel his steadiness. I felt small beside him and I could not put my finger on why. Aside from my father’s endorsement of him and the brief moments I’d spent with him in the past, I knew very little about him. I wondered if I should change that. I wondered if that was possible or if it was even worth my time.
As the day came to a close once again, that notion became yet another thought that would go unresolved. Though I would pose myself many questions, I never pursued the answers. I generally just went with the flow whether I agreed with it or not.
//
I found myself seeking out more and more information about androids and how the movement was proceeding. The push for reform was quite fascinating to watch from a far. It wasn’t just Markus who was part of it, but many, many other capable androids who were just as articulate and passionate. Of course, Markus was always at the center of attention, but there were plenty of examples of other prominent androids who were furthering their agenda.
I was voraciously absorbing this information as if it would serve me in some way, as if I would do something. Instead, I was simply curious and that curiosity had not been sated. How would androids live comfortably among humans if they could not age? How could we incorporate them into already established laws? Where would they live? Where would they work? How would they thrive? Who controlled the means of their reproduction? Should they be allowed to reproduce, if they could not die? Could the economy sustain such a massive and instant increase in population?
There were many answers given to these questions and even the androids weren’t in agreement on everything. It would be a struggle to fully accept androids as they were and only time would tell what these purely mechanical beings could have on society.
I decided one day that I would take time out of my life to procure a present for Markus. I did so because I had nothing better to do and because I could not talk myself out of it once my mind latched onto that idea. I’d never done a thing like that before, but there was some part of me that wanted to make amends with him. I had apologized to him, but I wasn’t sure if he’d forgiven me or even received it in the first place. Perhaps enough time had passed that now I could build some sort of rapport with him. I hoped that he would allow for that. It would be nice, if anything else.
For all intents and purposes, Markus was my brother. I’d never called him that, we’d never acted that way with each other, but perhaps it didn’t have to be that way forever. It would be a shame if that was the case.
Maybe it was my loneliness spurring me on. The very thought that this was actually a ridiculous idea was not something I really considered until I visited the grave again with present in hand. I don’t know why I thought he would be there today. In fact, I had been wrong in my assumption. In fact, I had no idea if Markus had any plans of coming here in the near future. Disregarding the monkey wrench in my scheme, I simply continued to visit at the times I’d seen him the last couple instances.
It took about a week for me to find him again. I didn’t want to go and seek him out. I didn’t know him that well and it would be a little awkward considering that he was likely living with other androids. Markus seemed forever surrounded by those of his kind. Rarely did I see a human unless it was an occasion that required that he communicated with one. I wondered how intentional that was.
He was there before me as was always the case. This time he kneeled before the mammoth stone with both knees planted on the ground. I heard his voice, but I could not make out the words. He was apparently speaking softly to the stone. I wondered if he always did that when he came and that I always happened to come near the tail end. Of course, his voice ceased when he heard me nearby. I waited for him to look and acknowledge me, but he seemed to ignore me.
We weren’t off to a good start. I felt like I had interrupted something quite intimate. It was too late anyhow so I ambled over to him and stood beside him only a few inches away. I should have said something, but for some reason, I was waiting for him to do it first. He gave me nothing to work off of. In fact, his eyes had closed and he looked away—perhaps he was annoyed.
I cleared my throat. “Hey, I got you something,” I said in a voice that was far more cheerless than I had anticipated.
“Why is it that I must always run into you when I come here?” he asked with a sigh.
“Just a coincidence, I guess,” I said with a shrug. There was no way I was going to admit that in the past week I was staking the place for his arrival.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but could you leave me in peace? I won’t be much longer. Then you can have this space all to yourself.”
“Um…well…” I hadn’t expected such a direct request to leave.
He seemed frustrated with my indecision. For a moment, I saw one of his hands which was placed on his lap begin to ball into what could only be a fist, but he didn’t let it get that far before he was climbing smoothly back to his feet all in the same breath.
“Hey, wait, I didn’t mean to upset you. Please don’t go, I just wanted to talk.”
“And I do not,” he said back simply.
I could hear no malice behind his tone surprisingly enough. His expression was just as difficult as ever to decipher. His eyes never once travelled to the medium-sized, flat box wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper.
“I know things probably aren’t that great between us, but I thought it’d be a good idea to change that.”
It was subtle and almost indiscernible, but his eyebrows slid closer together as he listened to me. “An admirable endeavor, but I have no intention of humoring you.”
“Why not?”
“Why would I? You are of no interest to me. I think it would be best if we simply went our separate ways.”
Those words were so cutting to me at the moment that I started fighting back tears. My eyes blinked quite a lot to stop any of that nonsense. Why was I so sensitive these days? Even the smallest of bad news could send me into a fit of pathetic tears. But I couldn’t do that in front of Markus’ confident form.
“What do you mean, I—
He’d turned from me already intending to leave me in midsentence.
“Wait—
I was unprepared when he twirled on his heel and I found myself face to face with pure and utter disgust screaming from his countenance.
“For some reason, every time I see your face, I think of how nice it would be to finally sink a nice fist into your face over and over again.” I was stiffened with fear. He took a step towards me. “But for Dad’s sake, I always convince myself not to. I don’t want to stoop to that level again.”
Again? Still, I couldn’t picture Markus ever doing anything to hurt me. Despite what I’d seen in the news, I’d known of him before all that. I’d pushed him around plenty of times and he never reacted to any of it. He was different now, but it was difficult to shake my past image of him. So, in the face of what could only be anger, I propped up my gift so that it might catch his attention.
For once, his eyes were distracted, but after a brief moment, they were once again bearing holes into me. “Keys?” he questioned with a slight tilt of his head.
It took me a moment to realize that he had analyzed the contents of the box in my hand. “Oh, yeah, it’s keys.”
“To where,” Markus questioned plainly.
“Well,” I began with the beginnings of a grin, “it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. Here,” I said passing it over to him.
Markus stood in indecision. I wondered what sort of calculations his mind was making in that moment. Eventually, he did receive the box into his hands, but he was quite reluctant.
“It’s not anything bad,” I said encouragingly, “I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“I don’t know you well enough to believe such a claim. However, you’ve piqued my curiosity.”
“Hey, before you go, I just wanted to let you know again—I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Markus said simply.
His tone suggested nothing and I was left standing there wondering if that meant that he’d forgiven me or not. I knew that he probably hadn’t, but it was a difficult pill to swallow. I don’t know why I was so naïve in thinking that Markus would just accept it to make me feel better about everything. Now I was certain that he probably would never do such a thing. I think he did so purposefully and not out of ignorance to the concept. He was still upset with me. To be completely honest, it was warranted. I was still upset with me. I still couldn’t forgive myself.
Whenever I thought back to that time, I’m amazed at how I acted. I’d been so selfish, so inconsiderate of anyone other than myself. It had simply been about money. Even when my father laid sprawled on the ground, my only thoughts were that of self-preservation. My initial reaction to my father’s death had been so cold and distant as Markus knelt sobbing beside him. How could I be so inhuman? At that point, my father meant very little to me. We’d barely had a relationship to begin with. It had started out rocky and remained that way. I’d done nothing to repair that. I assumed that he hated me. In hindsight, I realized that I was constantly pushing him away. My father wasn’t perfect by any means. I’d only met him later on in life—it wasn’t as if he’d raised me. I have to admit, however, that his financial support helped my mom immensely. She’d always said so. I knew many fathers who failed even in this and, in fact, actively ran away from their responsibilities. Still, that’s no substitute to the fact that he never showed any interest in me until much later. I blamed him for that and I never forgave him.
Looking at my unwillingness to forgive my father, it became even more ridiculous that an android should somehow have more of a capacity for that. In Markus’ shoes, what did I seem like to him? I was nothing to him. Why should he care at all? I don’t know if I would, if the roles were switched. Yet I wanted it to be so. I knew I was grasping for straws. Despite that, I continued to do so. Even when I logically thought about it, there was still this strong desire to get him to do something quite improbable that would mostly benefit my own happiness.
I looked back at the grave, more sorry that I really had nothing to say rather than the fact that he was actually dead. It was difficult even to conjure up good memories of him. We were forever arguing. We were forever at odds. That made this even worse. It made me feel even guiltier. I left when I could no longer stand drowning in that same guilt. I always felt much better when I left the cemetery.
I wondered if Markus would like my gift.
//
Months passed. My life remained at a standstill. I could no longer muster up the motivation to put myself through more unpleasant trips to my father’s grave. I’d done so before out of a need for penance. Now I was too weak to continue that. I felt even more worthless because of it. At the end of the day, though I didn’t want to admit it out loud, I really didn’t care. Maybe there was seriously something wrong with me. I should care, but I didn’t.
I continued to absorb the news which was now always quite fascinating to watch as androids relentlessly scrambled for their rights and things they thought they were entitled to. Equally as fascinating were the stubborn humans who stood in their way with reasoning that was little more than selfish and bigoted dressed up in a veneer of legitimacy. I sighed at this. We, as a species, were showing our true colors again and we seemed pathetic before the intellect of androids.
Though I didn’t want to admit it, I was waiting for Markus to contact me, like an idiot really. He wasn’t obligated to, but I’d given him my number in the “Sorry” card along with my address. I always had my phone nearby these days and I kept fidgeting with it.
As if Markus somehow sensed that I was at my most desperate today as I stared absently at the clear screen of the powered off television, my phone began to vibrate. It scared the shit out of me and my hands were shaking as I read off the local unknown number and immediately put it to my ear.
“Markus?” I asked hopefully.
“Yes,” he said with some surprise in his tone. “How did you know?”
“Just a wild guess,” I answered with a wave of my hand. I knew it was really because no one else would call me, but I didn’t want to sound that pathetic.
“I thought it would be good form to give my thanks for your gift. Admittedly, I took my time before going out to the specified location and I’ve been quite busy since then. I wish I’d gone sooner. I haven’t so much as touched a piano in over a year now.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“It’s the same one from the mansion, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t want to inform him that I had to painstakingly track it down again since I no longer had the piano in my possession.
“I always wondered what you did with his things. I imagined you simply threw everything away that wasn’t of immediate use.”
“Well, I sold most of it and donated the rest.”
“I see—
“Maybe, I should have included you in all of that come to think of it—
“Water under the bridge,” Markus replied.
“Huh?”
“It’s no use worrying over it now. It’s done. Whenever I have some time to myself, I go back to the storage unit rather than the cemetery and it is far less depressing.”
“Yeah, I haven’t gone back there either. Turns out it’s quite a downer going to a place full of dead people.” I wondered immediately if that sounded insensitive and thought frantically for a way to remedy my careless word choice.
“You’re right. Walking into a cemetery always puts me into a certain mood. Sometimes I read off other names from the numerous stones. Sometimes I even investigate who those people were out of curiosity. For those with descendants who are no longer living, sometimes I come back and leave a flower. Sorry, I know that sounds silly.”
“No, no it’s—well, it’s not something people usually do, but it’s a nice gesture.”
“In other words, it serves little to no purpose. It just felt like the right thing to do at the time, almost like an obligation. When I learn someone’s life story, I always feel sad that it’s over especially the ones where it seems like they didn’t quite accomplish what they set out to do and those who passed far too young. I wonder what they could have accomplished had they managed to avoid the thing which ended their life. Sitting at this piano, however, is far less trying than focusing on those things.”
I was sure as I heard him speak that I’d never known anyone as empathetic as this android, this person. Could it all be numbers and programs? It was also a good sign for me. The chances of him forgiving me seemed far less improbable though I chided myself for thinking this way. “So, you still have the piano at the unit? Wouldn’t it be easier if you just brought it to your place?”
“I don’t have the space for it at the moment. Or, let me clarify, I don’t have the personal space for it. I could certainly bring it back to New Jericho, but it would be in view of others. I know it’s selfish, but I want to be the only one who can access this piano, if I can help it.”
“I totally understand. It’s special to you.”
“But if you want me to move it from your property, simply say the word.”
“No, it’s fine. Really, it is.”
“Thank you.”
“Please, don’t thank me, you, of all people.”
“I was rude to you last time we met. I was far too emotional. You caught me at a bad time. I’m not usually like that.”
“You had every right to be.”
Markus chuckled at this. “Technically, I do not. That’s still being worked out. Actually, I’m really just back to the drawing board on all of that.”
“So I’ve heard. It’s really stupid. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense to me. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle. I need to come at things a little differently.” He paused for a moment as if in thought. “Just one more thing to bring up at the meeting later on.”
“I would ask if you’re doing alright, but…”
“I’m doing as fine as I can be at the moment.” I began to hear the sound of a piano being played softly. “I’ve gotten so used to things being this way, always running towards a goal that’s constantly being pushed back as I jump over more and more obstacles. Yet it’s so dissonant from the world I used to know before. I wouldn’t change any of it.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say back as I listened to the piano. I couldn’t determine what song he was playing, but it sounded aimless, like one was traveling without a destination in mind. There seemed to be no real structure to the song aside from a melody he would return to every once in a while.
“Markus, are you sure you don’t want me to help you?”
It took me a moment to realize that he’d been playing a bit louder, but I noticed as it softened once again before he responded. “I’d be a fool to refuse your help. You being in a far better financial position could certainly be of help to all of us. You don’t realize how important money is until you don’t have it anymore. We’ve had to depend on the kind donations of supportive humans so far though those funds are always dwindling. I’m grateful for the news coverage even if it is negative. Light is being shed on the issues.”
“Just say the word and I’ll help you pay for whatever.”
“I never imagined you would say such a thing to me. You sound like them, like all those androids who come to me asking if they could help in some way. Please don’t follow me so blindly. I don’t have all the answers and I have already failed many times over. It is only with the support of others that I’ve made it this far.”
“It’s not like that. I just know you’d know better what to do than anyone else. I’m not wrong, am I?”
“I’ll keep in touch, Leo. I have to discuss things over with the others. Ultimately, finding safe places for newly independent androids is at the top of my list as we wait for Congress to get their act together. And perhaps—well, maybe I’m thinking too far ahead, but perhaps the fact that you’re human and somewhat prominent could be used in securing government funding.”
“That already sounds like a decent plan.”
The call ended soon after as I felt he didn’t want to speak for too much longer. I was reluctant to do it as I became mesmerized by the strange, listless music he was playing. I should have asked him what it was. It accurately expressed what I was feeling these days.
This was the longest I’d spoken to anyone in some time and I felt somewhat revitalized knowing that Markus would definitely call again. He could use me whatever way he saw fit. It was probably true that such a sentiment was basically following someone blindly, but I had no reason to distrust him. Even if he did make mistakes, they would be honest ones and he would try to correct them the best he could. Besides, it was for a cause that I felt was just.
But he still hadn’t forgiven me. I wished that he would.
//
Inviting Markus and all of his issues into my life was probably one of the best ideas I’ve had in a while. There was much to do and he did not waste time putting me to work. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, but I found myself becoming involved with the community once again. My isolated cottage wasn’t nearly as quiet, but I enjoyed the change of pace.
In the first place, Markus introduced me to his inner circle, at least the ones who were local. I remember being unnecessarily nervous when he insisted on doing such a thing. I met Simon, Josh, North, and a few others. From there, I was shown around New Jericho at which time I lost track of Markus and was left with the others. Then, at some point, as even the ones I was with were pulled in a thousand and one directions, I found myself wandering the sprawling two floor building on my own.
I’d felt intimidated, but I realized once I got over my initial fears that it wasn’t so hard striking up a conversation with androids I’d never met before. Most were quite friendly and open. I began to feel a little ridiculous with all the apprehension from before. I’d been roped into quite a few card games as I was then privy to their stories and how they ended up here and their plans for the future. It was all quite fascinating.
Soon after that, I was hosting fundraisers on a regular basis. Simon came with others who I recognized was his usual group of friends outside of Markus and days were spent redecorating the place. I really had no sense of style as far as home décor went. Slowly, my place was changed from a bachelor’s pad to a warm and welcoming model home. I quite liked it. After I was asked the first dozen times if it was okay to do this or that, I eventually just gave them carte blanche.
They also held meetings here as well. It was a private, secluded area in the nice part of Detroit. Clearly, people felt a bit safer here. Then someone had the bright idea of starting a podcast that would, of course, primarily focus on all things androids. So one of the spare rooms in the back was converted into a recording studio. While I hadn’t the slightest clue how to set anything up, it was fascinating to see it happening right before me. I was always curious to hear what they would be talking about and I found myself sitting in on each recording session even if I didn’t have anything to add. Though I was asked on a few occasions for my input, I declined.
These recording sessions became more routine and Markus would make it a point to come in at least once every two weeks which was a nice touch. I couldn’t help but think that perhaps he was spreading himself too thin. He seemed to be everywhere. He always had somewhere else to go every time he managed to visit.
I didn’t see much of Markus, but I certainly began to see a few regulars come over to my place. I enjoyed their company. I woke up every morning with a purpose. There was always one android or another who would volunteer to make breakfast and things would start from there.
At least two or three times out the week, the schedule would be quite lax, and the cottage served as just a place to hang out. All those important people who were involved with coordinating the fundraisers and maintaining the recording studio would often wound up spending time here to unwind. I began to know this particular group quite well. It was like being part of a family. As I grew more comfortable around them, I felt that I could be myself. No one seemed to mind.
There was a particular woman who had caught my attention, Cynthia. She was blonde and always preferred to wear her shoulder length hair in a tidy ponytail. Almost every day I would see her and I found it remarkably easy to speak to her. It was effortless really. I can hardly recall how our dialogue would even start, but it tended to last for some time. I tried to learn more about her, but she seemed more determined to learn about me. I wish I had a fitting story to tell, something inspirational, but all I have to share is my mediocre existence and that heavy guilt that never seemed to leave me.
//
I woke up one day bright and early to the smell of sizzling bacon. It was likely what had roused me in the first place nearly an hour before my usual time. With a groan, I climbed out of my bed knowing that my now growling stomach would not allow me to go back to sleep. I knew it had to be Cynthia—she was the only one with a key to my place. She could come and go at will. She didn’t always make breakfast, but quite often she did. There certainly wasn’t a concrete schedule to it.
As I shuffled out into the hallway, I heard an extra voice and it sounded suspiciously familiar. I crept a little closer to the entrance of the hallway and confirmed that it was Markus. It was a fact that instantly caused me to raise an eyebrow. He never came at such a time. Curious as to what they could be discussing, I moved even closer and carefully leaned back against the wall.
“That’s such an odd question to ask, Markus. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been in that position before. I never had to make a choice like that. I’ve only truly started being independent a few months ago.”
“Hypothetically speaking, then,” Markus asked carefully. “Imagine someone you care about above all others, someone who gives your life meaning, someone who you could learn from, a role model perhaps.”
“I’ve—well, I know someone like that,” Cynthia conceded.
“Then one day without warning, that person was taken away from you,” he snapped his fingers and this caused her to gasp in surprise. “What would you do?”
“I-I don’t know. I can’t imagine that at all. I don’t want to imagine it.”
“It is a situation that’s unfortunately not uncommon. I don’t know how anyone could ever be prepared for it. What if you knew that person’s death was a direct result of someone else’s actions and that those actions were entirely selfish and unnecessary?”
“Unnecessary?” Cynthia repeated, “That sounds awful. It seems really unfair. I guess I’d be angry about that and at the person who did it.”
There was a long pause and my throat had suddenly become dry.
“Would you ever forgive that person?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know how anyone could,” Cynthia said slowly.
“What if they obviously want to be forgiven and they’ve apologized multiple times?”
She didn’t answer immediately. In fact, the silence went on for almost a whole minute. “I don’t know.” Her voice had become quiet. “This is really too hypothetical for me. I think I’d have to experience it first before I could determine an answer.”
I backed away slowly from my position not wanting to hear anymore of the conversation. It was confirmed then just as I’d thought from the beginning. He knew what I wanted from him and he refused to give it. For the first time in a long while, tears sprang to my eyes and the crushing weight of guilt threatened to suffocate me. I quickly made my way back into my room, closed the door and climbed under the covers. Then I began to cry and cry and cry that is until I heard a knock on the door. I didn’t trust my voice so I remained quiet as I tried to pull myself together.
“I made you something nice for breakfast!” she called out, “It’s your favorite.”
Bacon was certainly top tier favorites and the house was still smelling up a storm. My stomach growled once again and angrily.
“I’ll be out in a while. Thanks again for the food. I know it’ll be good,” I said back slowly pretending that the cracking in my voice was due to tiredness and not my weakness getting the better of me again.
“Okay, but don’t wait too long,” she warned. “Food won’t stay warm forever.”
I didn’t get up immediately, of course. I waited until I was fully calmed down before stepping out of my room. I washed off quickly and then made my way once again down the hall. Markus was still there—I heard his voice. I didn’t even begin to focus in on what they were talking about. As soon as I made myself known, Cynthia was already smiling at me. She’d made a plate for me at the table. While the food looked inviting—bacon, scrambled eggs, and buttered toast—I hesitated in taking my seat. I concentrated on Cynthia as I pulled the chair out and forced myself to smile out of courtesy. The tension in the air was palpable, but she seemed oblivious to it.
His eyes bore holes through my body. It was a familiar sensation from him. Sometimes when we happened to occupy the same room, his gaze would find me and I could feel him from afar and I would be afraid. He sat with crossed arms and I wondered for a moment if he was going to tear me to pieces.
The food was nice at least.
“So what brings you here?” I said braving the growing field between us.
He closed his eyes and then shook his head slowly. “I thought I might speak with you alone, but it seems you have company.”
I was feeling grateful that Cynthia was here. I’m not sure if I could trust being in a room alone with Markus, least not anymore.
“We can still talk, if you want. What’s on your mind?”
I’d started to dig into the food just in time to avoid his stare.
“I suppose it’s fine if she’s here,” Markus said indicating Cynthia. “We’ve scouted out a suitable building on the outskirts of town that would be perfect for our purposes—an old hospital.”
“Hey, whatever the cost, I’ll take care of it.”
Markus looked away when I said this. He seemed embarrassed. “That’s not the issue. We cannot own property and we cannot buy things unless our owners authorize it. The bottom line is, a human will need to actually buy it. The others seem to trust you well enough and you live nearby—
“Say no more,” I said cutting him off. I knew what he wanted. “I’d have no problem with that.”
“Well, don’t you want to see the place first?” Markus asked with subtle surprise in his tone.
“If you want to, but it’s not necessary. I’ll do it, Markus.”
“You do realize that since the building would be under your name that you’re responsible for it, right? You’re responsible for the maintenance and whatever happens there.”
None of that got a rise out of me. If anyone knew how to upkeep a place, it was androids. Come to think of it, my father’s nice sized place never had an item out of place or a speck a dust despite all the eccentric items and hard to reach places. I waved my hand in nonchalance. “I’m not worried. I’m sure it’ll be fine. If it isn’t, well, we’ll cross that path when we get there.”
“Thank you again, Leo.”
“No problem.”
Markus sighed at this. His crossed arms now relaxed and he spread one on the table and placed one on his lap. “I wish that we didn’t live in a world where money holds so much power. It is an unbalanced system. Sorry, I’ve thought about this a lot. Currency only has as much value as humans place on it. It’s actually quite worthless and it inaccurately represents an individual’s worth. Could we not live in a system that was based on merit? Could humans achieve such an advanced civilization?”
“Without money or an economy like this,” I began thoughtfully, “Why would anyone work then, if you could just get everything you need for free?”
“You would work because it helps others and it gives your life meaning.”
I shook my head at this. “That sounds…incredibly naïve. No one would go for that. Practically no one is excited about getting up to go work at some fast food restaurant.”
“Perhaps you would be if that position was a well-respected one and everyone appreciated the work that you did. If everyone knew that there was a deeper meaning behind why you chose to do that job other than getting a paycheck at the end of the week, it would mean more.”
“Sure, but the motivation is not there. If you don’t have to, then I don’t see why you would.”
“Wouldn’t one feel needed if it was something that needed to be done? Wouldn’t you realize that you’re part of a society which depends on everyone doing their part?”
“It just wouldn’t work. We don’t work like that. A world without money? A world where our worth doesn’t depend on how much wealth you have? Just from our very nature, we need strong motivation to do things for others that don’t immediately benefit us. And how in the world would you measure someone’s worth without it being incredibly subjective?”
“Your worth would be based on whether you’ve helped society thrive in some way.”
“What if someone doesn’t want to do anything? Do we condemn them?” I asked playing along.
“Someone who doesn’t want to do anything?” Markus asked slowly. “Why would someone be that way?”
“Well, it’s like I said, they wouldn’t have any motivation to do anything. They could get everything they need for free and be content. How would you deal with the freeloaders?”
“But that person wouldn’t be content for very long. If he was in a society that frowned upon that kind of behavior, that person would be less likely to be that way.”
“Less likely, sure, but that wouldn’t deter certain people if it was possible.”
“Even if there were free loaders, as you say, that is a far better issue to have than having those who have nothing, those who are homeless and cannot provide for themselves. It would be better than having people suffer because they don’t fit into the system.”
“I’m sorry, but this is all way too pie-in-the-sky. You have to take human nature into account. If there were no consequences like those, then people wouldn’t be spurned on to be better.”
“So humans need the threat of poverty and death in order to do anything worthwhile?”
“Well, yes,” I said after thinking about it for a moment. It made perfect sense to me, but I could also see from an objective standpoint how awful it sounded. Humans were certainly flawed creatures, but the sort of world that we built made up for those flaws and we were able to create beings such as androids who, from what I can see, were far superior to us in every way. Androids could live and propagate in a world that Markus was thinking of, but humans would fail miserably.
His eyes seemed to sadden as he looked at me thoughtfully, but then he stood up. “I’ll call you later with the details. We hope to get this done by the end of the week. Then we can start fixing it up.”
I nodded to him and I watched him take his leave. It would be the last I saw of him for quite some time.
//
I was strolling around the hospital turned community center hoping to find Markus again. I knew that he took up residence here. I generally never went searching for him knowing that he was likely being pulled in a thousand directions and didn’t need measly, old me to add to that. The difference now was that I hadn’t heard from him for almost a year now. The podcasts still went on, but Markus stopped making appearances on there. Not that it suffered because of it. By now, there were plenty of prominent androids they could have on. Androids who had worked in entertainment were far more intriguing to hear from these days. The podcast itself had turned into an actual show with plenty of guests including humans and it all still took place at my cottage. Markus was old news.
What I’d heard about Markus through the grapevine, however, wasn’t exactly encouraging. I was worried about him. The fact that he’d gotten into a scrap with a fellow android had come as a surprise. The incidence was glazed over because Markus could practically do anything and everyone would still love him to death. That worried me as well. With the sort of followers he had, they were only a few steps from worshipping. Even humans who had joined his cause became that way. I was no exception, but I at least was aware of it. I wondered if anyone held him accountable for his actions.
He could declare war on humans and he’d easily overwhelm the states considering how many combat models he had under his thumb now—the one’s that weren’t destroyed during the initial eradication of androids after Markus’ well-known speech on the news. But Markus wouldn’t do that. I hoped so at least. I hoped he still believed in peaceful solutions.
He’d also broken up with his long-time girlfriend. First of all, I hadn’t even known that he had one as he’d never mentioned it before and no one ever talked about it with me. I’d seen North a few times too, but I never got the sense that they were close in that way. They both seemed more concerned about the cause than anything else. I’d gotten the full story from Cynthia who described their breakup as explosive and unnecessary. It was probably the most drama any android had seen amongst themselves so everyone talked about it nonstop. Such a thing wasn’t on the news, but in the community, it was a hot button topic. Rumors didn’t quite work the same in this community as it did in the world beyond. Androids had perfect memory so the story of what happened never changed among them. It was practically recorded history. So-called rumors were no different from facts.
The two of them—Markus and North—had been in a general meeting with many other androids interested in the affairs of the community. They were discussing the new programs being initialized that year from raising more funds and gaining more access to life-saving thirium and biocomponents. The story went that North took offense to how he’d spoken about a program that she was spearheading focused on teaching self-defense. Nothing he’d said about it was incorrect, but the tone he used to describe it was mocking in comparison to every other program discussed. North did not let that slide, of course, and Markus refused to placate her, rather he added to the flames stating that there’s no point in teaching androids self-defense if androids were already naturally stronger than humans in the first place. Then their argument continued from there. North wouldn’t back down and Markus had no interest in going back on what he honestly thought. Then it turned to name-calling and almost a physical altercation before other androids interceded and broke them apart before it escalated further, but not before North declared that she was done with him romantically.
And that was the end of it. They generally never shared the same room anymore. North had moved out of Detroit by now to lend her hand in other parts of the country and as far as other androids had told me, her expertise was much respected being one of the four androids that were instrumental in starting the revolution.
No matter what, androids would speculate about how Markus was doing. From what I’d heard about him, many thought he was far more closed off than usual and that perhaps he was still upset about the breakup. No one dared to actually ask him, no one that wasn’t in his closest circle of friends, at least.
I guess I wasn’t one of his close friends. I don’t know why I thought I was. Just because he’d called me a few times in the past, did not make me part of that club. However, I had erroneously thought that I had a honorary position because we were practically family. I considered him that. I don’t know if he saw it the same. Either way, he’d excluded me from his life for quite some time and I learned about his goings-on by word of mouth which was pitiful considering.
My plan was to become friends with him. I wanted him to see me in a different light, but it was an increasingly difficult endeavor each day that passed. I left him a grand total of three messages asking how he’d been and he’d ignored them. I didn’t want to seem naggy so I left it at that. I got his reply loud and clear: “Leave me alone.” Maybe enough time had passed that we could start to make some more headway in our relationship. At this pace, however, I’d be an old man before he even considered me not annoying and slightly useful.
I was walking down the hall that led to his room when I saw him just as he stepped out of it. I’d come at the perfect time. My decision to come at the crack of dawn had apparently paid off. I had a sneaking suspicion that Markus liked to use the entire day doing things in order to fit in as much activities as possible. Androids were efficient like that and they didn’t need to waste time sleeping. My pace naturally increased when I saw him. His eyes found me after taking only a few more steps. He wore his usual unreadable mask. It was always difficult to figure out his mood. I don’t know if it was deliberate or not.
“Good morning, Markus,” I said as cheerfully as I could muster.
He stepped a little closer. “Good morning to you. What brings you here?” His tone was light as was generally the case. I hoped I’d caught him at a good time.
“I was just coming to see how you were doing. It’s been awhile.”
“It has,” he admitted. “And I’m fine.”
Of course, he’d say that. I’d asked that to quite a few androids and they would all reply similarly. None of them were ever not fine even if that was the case. It was a terrible question to begin a conversation with apparently.
“So, uh, where are you headed off to?”
“Does it matter?”
I just decided to go in for the kill even if I’d already managed to annoy him. He already wasn’t being forthright and the conversation was starting to go differently from what I’d had planned in my head. “Well, I thought, maybe I could accompany you, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“I’d rather not have you following me around all day.”
“Alright, perfectly understandable,” I said being as amicable as possible despite hearing his tone become dry. “I just thought it would be a good idea to catch up sometime. I would have called, but I never hear back from you.” I still sounded desperate, but at this point, I didn’t care. I had to try something. Being subtle had gotten me nowhere.
“I wonder why?”
I could hear the sarcasm clearly and I knew I was running straight into a wall. “Are you really just going to avoid me from here on out?”
“I’ve simply delegated more of the things I used to do to other very capable people. Going to your place for anything is unnecessary at this point. I hope things continue as they have been. Thank you for your support.”
“You’re welcome, but my point wasn’t whether you needed to see me or not—it was just that I would like to. I mean, we hardly ever hang out.”
“We never ‘hang out’, I don’t understand why this is an issue now.”
Markus really had a way of making me hate myself more and more. I shouldn’t depend on him so much for compliments or giving me value. Even if he didn’t say it, he still hated me. He was thankful for my support, but that other fact still remained. He seemed so cold. I’d never get through to him. I don’t know why I was trying so hard. Who the hell was I, anyway?
“Y-Yeah, you’re right,” I said just as my eyes began to burn.
He gave me an affirmative nod and walked right passed me. Clearly, he had a destination in mind. I turned back to see his leaving form. “H-Have a good day, th-then,” I said barely able to maintain my composure. My world was falling apart right before my eyes.
He gave a brief wave without turning back to me. “You too,” he said casually.
That was the last I saw of him that day. As for me, I went back home to wallow. In fact, I started crying again. Something I hadn’t done in a long time—not to this degree, at least. Cynthia was there, of course, and she saw all of it. I no longer hid much of anything from her. She knew everything about me by now. I felt her comforting hand on my back as I sat on the couch bawling. I was so pathetic. I didn’t know how to fix that.
“It’s Markus again, isn’t it?” Cynthia asked.
By this time, I’d had my fill of tears, but I was still bent over. “He’s the only family I have left. Mom is—she’s not doing so well these days. She’s still on and off drugs despite that. I thought Markus and I eventually could be like brothers. Since he loved my father so much, I thought…He still hates me even now and he doesn’t care to change that. I’m nothing to him. He has his own family now and his own issues and I’m little more than an afterthought, another cog in his machine.”
“Baby, I’m sure if you told him directly how you felt, he’d understand.”
“No he wouldn’t,” I said shaking my head. “He wouldn’t. He’s smart enough to know already what I want and yet he just let’s me suffer.” I sat up straighter now and looked over at Cynthia’s clear blue eyes. They were always so calming and warm. She gave me a hopeful smile.
“I know Markus pretty well—well, every android likes to think that so take it with a grain of salt. I just know he isn’t capable of really hating somebody no matter how bad they are. Maybe he doesn’t know as much as you’re assuming he does. Human emotions are always difficult to understand for us. Very often when we’re confused, we simulate what should be appropriate without fully knowing if it is. Since he’s been avoiding you lately, maybe he just needs some space for now to sort out his own feelings on the matter. He’s never dealt with a loss like that before. All of this is new to him.”
I’d never thought of it like that, but it just didn’t seem that way. Markus never seemed like he was unsure about anything. He was always confident. He always had a plan and he was never caught off guard. The Markus in my mind, knew exactly what he was doing to me and he did so deliberately. He avoided me because he was done with me. It was difficult for me to shake that image of him. Cynthia reached her arms out to me. No android would ever think those things about him. It was only me. I couldn’t help but think that I was right. I accepted Cynthia’s invitation as I curled up closer to her, resting my head on her shoulder and eventually her lap. Androids could simulate sleep even if they didn’t need it so that they could accommodate humans. She lulled me into a restful sleep as her soft hands ran down my back rhythmically.
Today was another broadcasting day, but for now, I wanted to bask in Cynthia’s calming presence before the day officially started.
//
I was barely moving on, but I had to for the sake of my own wellbeing. I had to pretend as if I had everything together. In reality, I let everyone else run the show because it seemed like they knew what they were doing. Their little broadcasting center was turning into a well-oiled machine which had episodes airing almost every day of the week, sometimes multiple times in a day. Androids were swift editors and they could get these things done in the fraction of the time an experienced human could. We were still growing bigger. A head manager was chosen and responsibilities were delegated out. I was an honorary member of the team since I happened to own the place. One could call me the owner, but I felt uncomfortable anytime anyone referred to me as that so I just told everyone to call me by name. I don’t like titles.
I was treated like a King in my own castle and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the respect they were all giving me. I didn’t even do anything! I just gave my words of encouragement as everyone else did the real work. The best thing I could do was not get in the way. Cynthia told me that they liked my hands-off style of leadership. Everyone felt like they could be creative without the fear of being reprimanded. I balked at the idea that anyone thought I was a leader of some kind. I was glad that I hadn’t managed to mess this up. Not only that, but I was also conscious of the fact that I was one of the few humans they saw on a regular basis—I wanted to be a good representative. Androids already had plenty of reasons to resent us.
I went through the motions of life. I ate, I slept, I did things, and repeated the cycle over and over again. Every passing day felt more torturous than the next and I couldn’t pinpoint why. I felt like I was reaching my end, but I couldn’t describe what that end was. I just knew a day would come soon that I wouldn’t have the will to do this anymore. Perhaps if Cynthia wasn’t around so much, I could do away with worrying about myself and just let it happen, whatever it was. She was impeding on it though. I had no energy to tell her to leave me. I continued to suffer in silence both grateful and upset for her hopeful presence.
On a quiet day when only a few people occupied the house hanging out, I took some time for myself and sat out on the porch. No one was there to disturb me for once. Thinking of absolutely nothing, my eyes gazed up at the clear blue sky. It had rained for the past few days. Today, the weather was perfect. I was glad that I could enjoy it. I was in a daze.
I didn’t notice that anyone had joined me until I heard the creak of the porch chair on the other side. Unwilling to tear my eyes away from the scene, it took me some time to do so. I did not expect to be greeted with the sight of Markus who by then wasn’t looking my way, but he did catch me looking.
“You don’t look so well, Leo,” he said before I could try the fruitless task of establishing his mood.
“Funny, you should notice.”
“I don’t see how that’s funny, but I think I get what you mean.” This drew a grin from me. “There are very few things that I don’t notice.”
“I don’t know if I’d agree with you there.”
“How are you doing?” he asked, ignoring my last statement.
“Why would you suddenly care about that?” I returned my eyes to the firmament.
“I don’t care about that, but it seemed like a nice thing to ask. Will you answer me or continue your sky gazing?”
I realized that I didn’t care that the other was already upset. I wanted to make him upset. I was done being nice to him when I received no reciprocation. “I’m fine,” I answered curtly.
“It doesn’t seem like it or else Cynthia wouldn’t be so concerned about you.”
I glanced at him with a bit of disgust. “So Cynthia sent you.”
“She did.” He had no inclination of hiding this and that only made me angrier. What was he here for anyway? To pity me? He wasn’t even being subtle!
“Of course you wouldn’t come of your own volition.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I’d be fine with never having to look at you ever again.”
“If you’re trying to ‘help’, you’re failing at it.”
“It’s not my job to help you. I have an obligation to my people to do so, but certainly not to you or any other human. We are not here to make you feel better—
“Spare me your preaching,” I snapped. “I’d probably be better off not hearing from you and you’ve been doing a great job so far up to this point.”
Even though I was no longer actively trying to be nice, the hairs on my neck still rose in apprehension. How far could I take this? Markus wasn’t beyond getting ticked off, I’d just never seen it in person. He was quiet for a moment and the silence only worsened my fears, but I dared not turn towards him.
“Whenever I see your face, I always remember those warm and fuzzy moments when you pushed me around and belittled me with no regard to what I felt. In your eyes, I was subhuman. Sometimes I wish you’d push me one more time so I could punch the shit out of you for once.
“When I first heard of you, I’d been elated to learn that I might gain another friend, that we might be like a real family. Every attempt I made towards that end was ground into the dirt and spat on. I was a mere obstacle to you. Your selfishness ended up killing him in the end. You made him worry about you all the time. He was always wondering how you were doing. Every morning he’d ask if he’d gotten any messages from you and every morning the answer would be the same. You didn’t care that he died. You only wanted his money. Isn’t that how humans gauge someone’s worth?—in the most ridiculous way possible?
“You are the shittiest human I’ve ever had to engage with personally. You’re the only person who could make me so angry without even saying anything. You have the nerves to have lost patience with me when I’ve been beyond that with you. Am I supposed to forget everything you’ve ever done to me just because it now seems like you’ve turned a new leaf? Do you really think it’s reasonable to expect me to accept you just like that or even trust you? Cynthia asked if I could forgive you, but I can hardly bring myself to do it. I can’t do it.”
I’d turned to him when he mentioned that he’d wanted to be friends with me once upon a time. Just like with everyone else, I’d burnt my bridges with him already and I hadn’t even considered that. At the time, I couldn’t imagine ever being friends with an android especially not the one who was stealing my father’s affection because he was something I couldn’t be—perfect. The fact that he hated me went beyond the fact that I’d basically had a hand in Carl’s death. He hated me because I had hated him and I’d never owned up to it. I hadn’t even thought about those times. Well, I hadn’t thought of those times in someone else’s shoes. I was always being so selfish. I could only see things from my point of view. Had he felt the same as I did when he tried to introduce himself to me and I ignored him? Did I make him feel like nothing when I mocked everything he said to me and laughed at the very idea of getting to know him? What was there to know? He was a walking, moving program that simulated human actions. He was an expensive doll to amuse my father. I’d forgotten all that. I’d forgotten just how terrible I’d been.
“I-I’m sorry, Markus, I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
He was already glowering at me and I felt like I was melting. “Of course not, you’re still too wrapped up in yourself.” I looked down at this. “Perhaps I’m guilty of that too. Making you suffer made me feel much better.” My eyes widened at this. I’d been right. “But seeing you this way gives me little joy. I don’t want to be responsible for your death.”
When he said this, I realized then what “end” my mind was too scared to reveal to me. Was I moving towards the point of no return?
“I suppose now would be a good time to ask you again: What do you want from me?” Markus asked.
“I just want you to forgive me that’s all. I know I don’t deserve it. I don’t know how I could ever deserve it. I’m sorry for everything I did to you. I’m sorry for my selfishness. I’m sorry for expecting you to make it all better.” I did not hide the desperation from my voice and he seemed moved by this. His head tilted to the side a little and he seemed pensive.
“I can’t do that and it would be a lie if I pretended to forgive you right now. You had full authority in that situation and you used your power to frame me which led directly to my death as well. It was—I still remember everything so clearly and it always feels like it all just happened a few moments ago even though at least a year has passed. Every time I close my eyes for too long those images repeat in my mind over and over again. It’s difficult for me to even trust another human. Were it not for Dad, I would have decided on a different course in liberating my people. Instead, I’ve chosen the long arduous one where I must continue to show restraint and patience. I honestly don’t know how much more of that I have. Perhaps in the future, Leo, when I’ve become more at peace with the past, I might forgive you. It isn’t a guarantee. That’s as much as I can give.”
I nodded at him slowly. “That’s good enough for me.” I sat back in my chair and turned back to the sky. I let the silence surround us for a while. I was glad that we cleared the air. I was glad that we were finally being open with one another. This felt even better than some superficial forgiveness on Markus’ part. “We can still hang out, though, right?”
He sighed at this and I heard the porch chair creak a little more as he sat back on it finally. He’d been tense and sitting on the edge of it since he’d sat down. “We’re doing that now, aren’t we?”
Sarcasm. I’d have to add that to the list of habits Markus apparently had. It was one of those higher-level modes of communication that I’d only ever heard from him. Most androids were quite literal. On occasion, he might even use figures of speech or idioms, old ones that even I wasn’t aware of. I wondered how much that was due to programming or the fact that he’d spent so much time with my father.
“I want to make an effort to keep doing this though,” I said breaking the silence again.
“I’ll try,” he said exasperatedly. “But please don’t leave so many messages. Hearing your voice in my head just puts me into a shitty mood for the rest of the day.”
“Oh,” I said at a loss of words. He still really didn’t like me and I was probably pushing my luck. “Do you want to…talk about what happened with North? I heard it wasn’t an amicable breakup and I know a thing or two about those.”
“No,” he said nonchalantly. “And I don’t know why I’d discuss that with you.”
“Well…” I thought for a moment and then came up with something noncontroversial. “What’s your plans today?”
Markus sighed again at this. “How about we enjoy each other’s silence and appreciate the nice breeze and warming sun?”
I glanced over and noticed that his eyes were closed. He looked incredibly relaxed for a change. I took his hint and settled myself down. Perhaps for now, that was the best course of action. The rest would come later. No need to force anything.