Artificial Heart

8

Prisha felt the heat rush up her neck. A robot, for God's sakes. He must think her a fool.

Prisha swept up the blanket and wrapped it around herself. The alien tilted his head. He went quiet and still. Did he think her an idiot? Had she insulted him? Was he angry? That damn helmet!

The hairs pricked up on her arms and she shivered. 'I'm—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.'

'I am a satellite drone. Alive and unalive. 62.2561% metal alloy, 35.065% organic, 2.6789% supplementary. Built to withstand alien environments—and alien organisms.' His visor gazed at her eerily. His head was still tilted, in a very puppy-like manner.

Shocked, crazy laughter bubbled in Prisha's throat. 'So, you are a robot. Mostly, anyway. Wow. I did not expect that. So ... uh ... do you feel anything? Which parts of you are organic?' She suddenly realised what she said and laughed nervously. 'I mean ... can you die, for instance?'

'I can die.'

She attempted to readjust her blanket but the robot/alien reached out and took her wrist. 'Data collection.' More gently this time, he pulled her through the door and into the little room with the bench.

It was freezing and Prisha gripped onto herself, shivering. The robot swiped something on the wall and warm air started to fill the room.

'Thank you,' she said. Then her eyes fell upon the hard, cold-looking bench. She looked up at the ceiling and the coiled tubes and shining, metallic instruments. She tried to remember anything of the four days she was here. Four days. Prisha swallowed.

'It won't take four days this time, will it?'

The robot gazed at her without answer. Prisha swallowed again as she stared at the bench. She couldn't do it. She couldn't make herself go over there. Who would?

'What if I said no?'

The robot was silent, waiting. He was too tall and she had to crane her neck to look into his visor. His sculpted muscles bulged under his suit, altogether too obvious against the light. Prisha released a shuddering breath. 'Don't really have a choice, do I?' That nervous laughter again.

Prisha felt the blood rush to her cheeks. The room was warm now but she couldn't seem to unclamp her arms from around herself. Her feet were as heavy as bricks.

The robot was fast. She shouted as he caught her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to pull away from the bench as he lowered her onto it.

'Not yet!'

Prisha tightened her grip as she resisted but he untangled her arms with phenomenal strength, a strength that was somehow firm, yet gentle.

Prisha tried to sit up but he pushed her back down.

The bindings snaked out from the bench, wrapping around her wrists and ankles, flattening her to the metal. Prisha thrashed. She screamed, and screamed and screamed until the robot reached out one of his big hands and firmly gripped her throat. Prisha silenced.

His hand shot back, as though he'd burned himself. 'I will put you to sleep.'

'No.' A tear rolled down her cheek as she rocked her body about. 'Let me go. I made a mistake. I want to go back.'

He turned away and approached the wall where a bunch of lights twinkled in multiple different colours. He swiped something again and Prisha's eyes widened as the tubes and tools attached to the ceiling began to move.

'Please, I have a family. Brothers and sisters. Friends. People who love me. People who rely on me.'

But the equipment kept moving, eerily, like tentacles and pincers and claws, everything that could rip and tear and bite. Everything she could ever imagine in a nightmare. Right here. In reality. Was this reality? It couldn't be!