Chapter Text
“Two more hours, Rosie,” a voice whispers so quietly it's almost drowned out by the soft sound of the air filtration system. My breath catches at his quiet boldness, and it takes all my attention to keep my features calmly distant and indifferent. All my senses seem to heighten when Daniel’s around, a strange phenomenon that I can’t entirely explain. A thrill races down my spine and my fingers tingle as I take a deep breath through my nose. Daniel passes by in a second, and I don’t dare look towards him, but the smell of salt and earth lingers. He must have been stationed in the tunnels again.
I continue inputting data like my body wasn’t just sent into overdrive. Like I’m the unfeeling, inhuman, synth they expect me to be. I tell my heart rate to slow, though I’m pretty sure I’m not being monitored currently. You never know when someone will decide to pull medical data from you. Any anomaly could cause you to wind up in the hospital wing, not for treatment, so much as torture. We are lab rats with the bodies and functioning power of organic humans. What more could a scientist ask for?
Once I feel relatively normal, I let my mind wander into what I call the “nowhere place.” I’m not sure if it’s something unique to synths or if humans have this ability too, but most of us are able to sort of check out of reality. I know I’ll drive myself crazy staring at the tiny clock numbers on the screen in front of me, so I go on autopilot. My mind becomes a bit fuzzy and distant, but I’m still inputting and processing data, cataloging numbers into the computer in front of me like the machine I’ve always been told I am. I know I should be actively paying attention as any data could be useful to us synths, but I can’t give it my full attention when in two hours I’ll have the opportunity to be with Daniel. Besides, I’m confident enough in my recall and processing abilities that I think I’d notice anything significant.
Lost in this strange infinite space, time passing has less meaning, and before I know it, I hear a shrill bell from the PA system signaling the end of the day shift. Mechanically, I stand up keeping my movements slow and methodical, though no one is watching. The humans are all sighing, worn out from the days work, but they smile when they start to pair off in groups. Complaining and chatting about their day, speculating what’s for dinner as they head toward the cafeteria, though 9 times out of 10 it’s a synthetic food block, engineered to contain the perfect balance of nutrients. Not engineered for taste or satisfaction, it’s still better than starving and is a way to keep the rather large population of humans and synths in the Institute healthy and energized. Synths are always served synthetic food, though allegedly the humans, especially the higher ups get delicacies from the garden or the mysterious outside. Or I think it comes from outside, even though everyone is told the outside is a desolate, lawless, wasteland. There’s not supposed to be anything left worth saving. Recently, I’m not sure what to believe.
Since my “Awakening” it’s harder to sort out my thoughts and figure out what is right and what I’ve been programmed to believe is right. Daniel believes we are more than our programming and we have autonomy. That we can figure out the truth between the lies, that were more than the chip in our brains and the slaves of the Institue. I’m not sure if he’s right, but by the way, all this new information has made me feel I want to believe him. Honestly, I’m not sure if I care about what’s true or not. All I care about is him and how my body and brain respond to his presence, to the feel of him next to me. I don’t understand the sensation, but I want to be next to him all the time.
I don’t really know when it started. These “feelings” as Daniel and the other Awakened Synths say. It’s like I was living my life in a foggy glass bubble and suddenly the fog cleared, and I could see what was around me. Then as I began reaching out, testing my body, the feel of my hand in another living hand, the sight of the humans and other synths. Noticing body language, social interaction, the smells of the Institute, the taste of synthetic food in my mouth, the feel of cool metal in my hands, my fingers against a keyboard. Everything became overpowering and the bubble burst, freeing me from the strange half-life I was living. I noticed my heartbeat, my breathing, and I knew things I didn’t know how I knew. Information that seemed to just show up in my brain, but had likely always been there. Daniel referred to it as the “innate sense of being human.” It was the ability to learn and the programming of being an “adult” that was already in place the moment we were created. It was like I was a child and adult all at once. I understood social norms but had no real context. I began to understand the oppression and stigma attached to being a synth but was learning the idea of freedom, of the wastes outside, as my mind processed all I’d ever heard and seen.
It was and still is, overwhelming, but it’s been a few months now (Daniel says it’s important to mark time in this place, or we’ll lose our sense of self), and I’m starting to get a handle on things. I’ve been hanging out with the synths close to Daniel and have been slowly picking up their knowledge. The biggest thing is how to act when we aren’t alone. Calm, submissive, and distant. Nothing can faze a robot so nothing should faze a synth, even a synth that’s indistinguishable from the humans themselves.
My thoughts are so distracting that I don’t realize I’ve already gone through the food line and need to find a place in the cafeteria to sit. I curse myself for not paying closer attention. Daniel says it’s important to be aware at all times, even when it’s hard. Getting complacent leads to silly mistakes that can have dire consequences. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I know his biggest concern is being Reset. A fate worse than death, losing yourself while still alive.
I head to the Synth area and spot Daniel immediately. He doesn’t look up from his tray. The perfect picture of detachment, but I can see the sharpness in his eyes that nothing escapes his notice. I take a seat next to him. Purposely sitting a bit too close and letting my arm brush his as I sit. He nudges my shoulder with the slightest move, and I catch the side of his mouth quirk slightly. I feel heat flood my cheeks, and I pray I am not blushing. My heart soars at his response, and I can’t entirely repress the smile that takes over my face at his acknowledgment. I keep my head down hoping no one will notice my unusual response. Luckily everything has been relatively quiet lately, so everyone has a sense of complacency that has allowed us to a small bit of freedom.
Daniel’s foot pushes against mine under the table, a gentle nudge that I understand from the months I’ve spent with him. Calm down, Rosie, I can hear his voice saying in my head. I turn my focus to my food, a strange yellow chunk of nutrients. I stick my fork into, noting that it seems a bit tougher than usual. Typically, the synthetic food is soft, something easy to chew and digest, but occasionally a batch doesn’t turn out quite right, and this food is given to the synths. I tear a piece off and pop it into my mouth. It’s a bit spongy and chewy, a sign that something is slightly off in this batch, but it still has a strange combination of sweet and savory, that isn’t entirely off-putting.
A few more synths join us, and I watch the silent conversations that pass between them and Daniel. Though I feel a bit left out since I can’t quite decipher their silent language, I trust them enough to let me know when we all meet up later. Daniel shifts in his seat slightly, and I take the opportunity to study him. Dark hair curling at the ends fall over his forehead, the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint shadow of a dimple in his cheek, his full lips and pointed nose. I wonder if when they created him, they meant to make him so utterly beautiful. He feels the weight of my stare and his eyes turn to me. He doesn’t turn his head, but the weight of his stare still takes my breath. Something is burning in his eyes, an emotion that I don’t understand, but it makes me want to turn away and pull him towards me at the same time.
“Finish eating, Rosie. I’ll see you upstairs,” his voice is soft, deep and melodic. I can tell he’s teasing me a bit. He tells me I’m to easy to read, that my emotions are always right on the surface, bubbling over into the space around me. I know that worries him, that I should be more concerned for my own safety, but nothing matters when I look at him. Nothing matters when I’m surrounded by people just like me, and I’m learning about a world I couldn’t have imagined even if I tried. This is what it means to be alive. That’s what I think anyway.