10 Years Ago...
”What is your name?” he asked her.
The brunette woman tilted her head slightly, a millisecond search through the wires of her ‘brain’ coming up with the answer immediately after he asked the question.
”My name is Gemma,” she said, brown, doe like eyes flitting down and then back up again, as if deciding how she felt about the name after it left her lips. She gazed into the intense blue eyes of the man before her, barely noticing as he adjusted his tie.
”Fine, Gemma. You can call me Finley, though, as my new assistant, I think in front of others it would be best to use Mr. Kyle, alright?” he smiled, the pulling back of his skin revealing his white straight teeth and deepening the sharpness of his jaw. She noticed the firmness of his eyebrows and yet the softness of his gaze, and understood he was a serious man, but one with tenderness to him.
”Yes… Finley,” she said softly, smiling with a nod. She appeared much friendlier when she smiled, and more lifelike. It was hard for the man to think of the woman sitting before him as a robot… a machine. The way she carried herself, used different tones when speaking… he’d have to continually remind himself of what she was or he’d forget.
Gemma walked briskly towards Mr. Kyle’s office, her navy blue wrapped dress lingering on her figure but not hugging it so tightly she called attention to herself. She’d curled the ends of her thick brown hair that morning, and the snap of her black heels let those in her path know she was focused at the moment.
Opening the door without a word or knock, Gemma gasped softly, eyes wide as she saw Finley kissing a blonde woman who was leaning on his desk. ”I… Finn, Kyle, Mr. Kyle, I’m sorry,” Gemma said, stumbling over her words and obviously embarrassed. Finley half expected her to blush. And for some reason, he felt a guilt spread over him as he pushed himself gently away from the woman and cleared his throat.
”Gemma, wait, it’s fine, I’m sorry. Please don’t go. Um, Harley,” he said, turning to the woman he’d spent the last few days with and smiling as she seemed a bit put out by being interrupted. ”I’ll pick you up tonight. 7?” he asked. The woman nodded curtly, giving him a light touch on the arm before exiting, seeming to pretend Gemma didn’t exist. The brunette android stood a few feet from the door, looking at the floor until the blonde woman shut the door.
Gemma then looked up, a hurt look on her face though she tried to hide it. ”Um… your… your meeting…” she started, information in her mind getting confused with all sorts of feelings tumbling about inside her that she didn’t understand. She felt jealous and angry and sad and confused all at the same time and she had no idea how to express it. It wasn’t in her programming to.
”Gemma, are you okay?” Finley asked, concern sweeping his face as he walked up to her and put his hands on her forearms. The robot woman looked up at him with a pained glance and shook her head.
”I… I thought…,” she breathed out before reaching up, hands moving to his cheeks before lifting up on her toes and kissing him. Her eyes were shut hard, and her mind was moving 90 miles an hour though going in circles as she tried to understand the urge she had to do such a thing, and then do it. But then she felt his soft lips begin kissing her back, his hot breath hitting her. And she could feel it all.
”Just, go Gemma, get out of here!” Finley growled, no anger in his voice, but simply love and concern.
”But they’ll ruin you, your business…” Gemma said, trying to cry but no tears could come.
”And they’ll kill you! So just go, please!” he begged, the pain in his eyes reading to her. The yelling and beating on the door got louder before she gritted her teeth, committing her lover’s image to memory before running to the nearest room that had a wall towards the outside. Finding a window, she opened it and looked below, gripping the bag Finley had filled and throw at her prior. Traffic was headed this way, and Gemma knew if she timed it right, she could fall into it and hopefully land on a bike.
Whipping her head around, she heard splintering and the voices suddenly become louder, shouting, specifically Finn’s. Biting her lip she turned back, watching the parade of zipping vehicles come by. Some were several feet below, some at her level, some above… all trying to get home from their commutes. Pushing off the ledge, she fell, letting the bag hang from her shoulder before clinging desperately to the first thing her body hit. Turned out to be a biker’s body, who began flailing, trying to get her off. The bike began tumbling all around until she forced him off, kicking him to the ground below and tried to get control. When she finally did, she glanced behind her to see sirens and flashing lights of Hark pouring down the way and even out of the window she’d just left. Panic filled her gaze and she kicked it into gear before speeding swiftly through traffic. She had hoped to get lost within the bodies and speeding vessels, but then she remembered all androids were trackable. She knew where her chip was, but it’s not like she could just yank it out while trying to speed through this mess. It would have to come later.
In the meantime, her jacket billowed behind her tan form, glancing behind her frequently, until she started to reach the wall. ”HALT” was being blasted over and over, zipping of cars assaulting her ears, but she was on a mission. She would not disappoint herself, and Finley.
She saw the garbage barges about to lock onto the doors that led to the outside, and she knew something was looking out for her. It was too perfect. She raced towards the opening as the metal slid back, letting garbage jettison out of the ‘perfect’ city. The barge began backing up and the metal doors started to close, set on a timer to only open and close at pre-determined times during the days for garbage disposal. To open them again one would have to catch another garbage dumping at a precise moment, or set up a specific time with the Dept. of Security and Welfare (which was usually only done to dispose of criminals to create more room in jails for those deemed rehabilitate-able.)
Gemma’s hope was in the fraction of an opening, and she leapt from the bike to slide through just before it vacuum sealed shut, tossing her onto hot sand and under the face of a burning sun. But she was free.