Mechanical (8 page)

But was it a good enough reason for me?

I rolled over, opened my eyes and stared
around the room. Why was I the empty one and not other people? What
made them different?

I knew the answer, I just didn’t like it. It
made me feel worthless and unessential. Like I was unwanted.

I was mechanical. It was the answer to
everything. Why can’t I do this? Why am I this way? Why are they
different? Why is this hard for me?

Because you’re mechanical, Drew.

Chapter Twelve

“...the kingdom of God is open to all who
believe in Him,” Mrs. Stoll finished reading the paragraph out of
the theology book. “So,” she went on, putting it down. “Anyone who
believes in God and lives by His commandments will be welcome in
His kingdom. Now, can anyone find similarities between Christianity
and other religions we’ve studied?”

A hand was raised and Mrs. Stoll gestured to
the girl. “Well most of them deal with a god, or
the
God,”
the girl commented.

“Souls,” somebody else interjected and I
turned their way. “You need a soul. You need to be able to believe
in it.”

“Good point, Tiffany,” Mrs. Stoll said. “This
is a reason we
have
souls; so that we can have choices and
choose to believe or not to believe in things.”

“But is a soul really necessary?” someone
else asked doubtfully. “I mean, we can’t really identify a soul.
What is it? Who’s to say whether we have one or we don’t?”

Mrs. Stoll nodded thoughtfully. “This is
another thing that can be considered a belief, I suppose; your view
on souls or if they even exist. I, personally, believe they do and
are essential to you as a person. I think it defines who we are and
what makes us a living, reasoning being.” I heard mumbles of
agreement throughout the classroom.

Just then, the bell rang. Students sprang
from their seats and headed for the door. I started for my locker
thinking about the discussion. I had never thought about the fact
that you needed to have choices or ways of defining yourself. A
soul, apparently, was important.

Suddenly I stopped dead in my tracks. People
pushed past me irritably, but I paid them no attention.
You’re
not a real person. You’re not really alive.
That’s what they
had told me. I was an android, not a human. I wasn’t a person. I
wasn’t alive. I was nothing. But if I wasn’t a person, wasn’t a
human, didn’t have life ...

Then I didn’t have a soul.

Chapter Thirteen

“Yvonne, have you ever thought about ... I
don’t know ... believing in something?” I asked, my voice echoing
eerily throughout the large, empty room.

She looked slightly puzzled. “What do you
mean?” she mumbled, not even bothering to look up from the book she
was reading.

“Well ... like something that’s greater than
us. That created us, maybe.”

Yvonne snorted disdainfully. “Drew. We’re
androids; there’s nothing
greater
than us.” She laughed like
I had just supposed the world was flat. “And besides, I already
know who created us. The
creators
.” She smirked.

“Yvonne, I’m serious.”

She gave me an annoyed look. “No, I don’t
ever think about believing in things I can’t touch or see. It’s
stupid.”

I sighed and looked away. After a few moments
I asked, “Do you know if we have souls?” I whispered this, almost
not wanting to hear the answer.

She shook her head, as if irritated by my
interrogation. “Why does it even matter?”

“Well ... I just wondered.”

“What’s going on with you? You’re acting
weird ...” She frowned at me, her brows furrowing. “Well quite
frankly, I don’t care if we have souls. We’re fine with or without
them.”

I was silent for a few moments, just staring
off into space.

Eventually Yvonne closed her book and turned
to me. “So, how is the mission going?”

“Fine,” I answered. “It’s strange, the way
different people behave outside the Institution.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ve gotten used to it.”
Her tone suggested she felt she was more experienced, better than I
was. I didn’t let it bother me.

“How’s it going with you?”

She shrugged. “They’re humans.” Then she
laughed. “They bug me.”

“Oh.”

There was a moment of silence.

“So I heard you spent the night at a girl’s
house,” she added.

“Yeah...”

“So...how was it?” she asked halfheartedly as
though she thought it would be nothing more than trivial, but I
could hear the curiosity hidden in her voice.

“It was fun.”

She gave me an odd look then dropped the
subject. “I heard,” she whispered, leaning in. “That we—you and
I—are involved in a huge mission.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously.
“That our little missions are part of one great big one.”

I looked at her. “How did you hear that?” I
asked, suddenly intrigued.

She smiled smugly. “I have ways.”

I wondered what important mission she could
be talking about. Considering I wasn’t up to speed with Yvonne and
that I had basically just ignored Glen this whole weekend, I
probably wasn’t going to be let in on it anytime soon. I felt a
cloud of frustration settle around me. I was frustrated with Glen
for not believing in me and also frustrated with myself because
deep down I couldn’t help but feel it was my fault that I wasn’t
being trusted.

“I guess it's why they brought you back,”
Yvonne said. “Although I don’t know why they didn’t just use a more
experienced android ... but you seem to be doing a good job.”

I nodded, recognizing the comment as Yvonne’s
twisted way of giving a compliment.

“You know, only you and I and a few others
are involved in this mission, apparently,” Yvonne said.

“Who are the others?”

“Last I heard, it was Ryan, Jeremy and Abby,
but more and more people are being brought back for this mission.
It must be important.”

“Weird ... I wonder what the whole mission
is. Do you know?” I asked her, hoping she was feeling generous and
in an explanatory mood.

“Not yet,” she replied. “But I’m going to
find out.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” I asked,
skeptical.

“I have my ways, Drew.” She gave me a sly
look. “I know what I’m doing.”

Chapter Fourteen

“I want you to write a paper,” Miss Clark
declared from the front of the classroom, wearing a smile on her
face as if this task would be something exciting and enjoyable.

When the class moaned in unison, Miss Clark
frowned at everyone.

“Oh come on, guys,” she said. “It’s not a
hard one. All I want you to do is write a paper on something that
is important to you. It can be anything, as long as you put some
thought into it and it really matters to you.”

“What do you want it to be on?” one girl
asked uncertainly.

“I just told you. Anything that you care
about,” Miss Clark answered.

“But I don’t know what to do,” the girl
whined.

Miss Clark looked thoughtful. “It could be
anything. What matters to you, Hannah?” she asked the girl. Miss
Clark leaned against the edge of her desk with one leg extended,
her palms grasping the edge for balance. “Well, you’ll think of
something.”

When the girl gave her a despairing look,
Miss Clark tried again. “Just reach down into your soul and find
something there to write about. The eyes are the windows to your
soul, look there,” she said, spreading her arms out in an imitation
of some dramatic poet.

Some of the class laughed, although most of
them just looked disgruntled.

I didn’t. I stared at her in wonder. The eyes
are the windows to your soul? Was that really true? The phrase
stuck to my mind and wouldn’t let go. It had power and I wondered
how, when the words were so small and simple.

Just then, the bell rang and students jumped
up around me, but I wasn’t watching them. I was staring blankly
ahead of me, lost in thought.

“Hey Drew, what are you doing your paper on?”
I vaguely heard Michael’s voice waft through my thoughts.

“Um ... I don’t know yet,” I said, standing
up quickly.

“Well ...”

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you
later,” I said quickly and hurried out of the room. I rushed past
kids in the hallway, pushing my way through the crowd and ignoring
any rude comments flung my way. I hurriedly ran into the girl’s
bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.

“You gonna puke?” a girl standing next to me
asked, eyeing me suspiciously as she applied her lip-gloss.

I shook my head, barely even acknowledging
her as I stared into the mirror. The girl gave me a strange look
and left the bathroom, as if she didn’t want to be caught alone
with the insane new girl.

I stared at my eyes. They stared back at
me—confused, desperate, searching. I tried to look past the deep
blue color and see into my soul ... if there was one there to see.
I don’t know how long I stood there, looking intently into my eyes,
but eventually someone entered the bathroom.

“Drew, are you okay?”

I turned to see my fourth period social
studies teacher standing there, watching me with concern.

“Yeah,” I said, turning away from the
mirror.

“Are you going to come to class?”

I nodded. I let myself be walked back to
class but during the entire time, I wasn’t thinking about social
studies. I was thinking about the mirror.

The eyes are the windows to your soul.

Did that mean if I looked hard enough I would
see mine? Tears started to blur my vision. I had to look away and
blink profusely until they left. I had stood in the bathroom
staring into the supposed windows to my soul for almost an hour.
Just staring and waiting; hoping I might see something.

Anything.

I had seen nothing because maybe there was no
soul to see.

Chapter Fifteen

“So what are you doing your paper on?”
Michael asked as we were walking down the school hallway. The
corridor was crowded. We had to walk single file and push our way
through the crowd, but Michael didn’t seem daunted or put off. He
just shoved his way through to walk beside me.

My mind went blank for a moment. Oh. The
paper. I had completely forgotten. “I don’t know yet ... when’s it
due?” I asked.

“Not for awhile,” Michael assured me, trying
to wrestle his way through the throngs of students so he could
remain walking beside me.

“Oh good,” I replied.

“So what do you think it’ll be on?”

I laughed. “Why do you want to know?”

He angled his head in thought. “’Cause it’s
about what you really care about and I would like to know what you
care about.” His eyes were sparkling, no hint of sarcasm or
embarrassment.

I gave him an amused look. “Why?”

“Why not?” he asked, his brown eyes
glinting.

I stared at him for a minute. He had a nice
smile—a really nice smile. Suddenly my stomach did something.
Something weird. I didn’t know what it was, but it was a strange,
clenching yet freeing feeling. Like the kind of feeling you get on
a roller coaster, flying up and down the track, screaming with
excitement, yet fear.

“Oh, here’s my class,” I said, noticing we
had come up to the P.E. room. I looked back at Michael, trying to
rid myself of the strange phenomenon that seemed to have taken a
hold of my entire mind and body. I felt my face growing hot. Could
I blush? Wasn’t I mechanically incapable of blushing? I hoped
so.

“Okay, see you around, Drew,” Michael called,
walking away.

“Bye.” I watched him vanish into the
crowd.

I shook my head and hurried into the locker
room to change, and soon I was out in the gym with the rest of the
class.

“Okay guys,” Ms. Webster called. “Today,
we’re going to be running laps.”

The girls around me groaned, tightening their
ponytails and adjusting their shoelaces, getting ready.

“Okay, let’s move it,” she ordered.

The girls slowly started jogging in a circle
around the court. I followed their lead, quickly getting into a
rhythm of running and easily performing my task. I regulated my
breathing; in, two steps, out, two steps. Soon every care
dissipated and I focused solely on running.

In a little while, I noticed quite a few of
the girls were lagging behind and breathing heavily. Before I knew
it, I was in the lead.

“How can you ... do that?” Caroline asked
breathlessly. She was running just a few feet behind me.

“Do what?” I was starting to get panicky and
self-conscious, losing my momentary composure as I glanced around
the room.

“Not even break a sweat. You ... don’t even
look tired,” she gasped between breaths.

I'd never had to worry much about physical
fatigue. Yes, I could get tired, but apparently not as easily as
the average human. Glancing around, I realized that the rest of the
girls looked absolutely exhausted and I was glad I hadn’t been made
with features similar to a human’s physical capacity. I looked back
at Caroline to say something when I heard my name called.

“Drew, look out!” someone cried. But before I
knew what she was talking about, I ran straight into the bleachers,
falling over myself multiple times and landing on my back.

“Drew, are you okay?” Caroline cried, bending
over me. I noticed Ms. Webster was there also and I wondered how
she had gotten across the gym so quickly.

“Go to the nurse,” she told me.

“The nurse? But, I’m fine,” I protested,
shaking my head and sitting up.

She shook her head. “I saw how you fell. You
hit your head a few times. Hard, it looked like.”

“But—”

“Go,” she ordered. I immediately got up and
headed for the doors.

I walked down the deserted hallway, my shoes
squeaking on the clean, waxed floor until I reached the nurse’s
office.