Polaris

She hadn't considered it possible to become so attached so someone in such a short span of time. But as the days went by, and Christmas on Saturday neared, Polaris found herself talking to and confiding in Wei more and more.

They'd stay up texting well past midnight, Polaris falling asleep with a smile on her face. They talked about everything--cat videos, books, the mysteries of life and death...although Polaris couldn't reveal her android identity to him, she felt like he knew her better than Ali or Andromeda, both of whom now spent their days looking for jobs and trying in vain to devise a plan to prevent the mass android shutdown.

The only misgivings Polaris had about her friendship with Wei was the fact that she'd had to fabricate a completely fake identity in order to communicate properly. Polaris, version 2.0, loved astronomy and robotics (of course); she discussed the symbolism in Renaissance art like a cultured intellectual; she seemed to consume over 100 cat videos daily (which Polaris now made a habit of doing, just to fit into her new persona a little better); and she had a passion for Italian food. She chose to develop an interest in modern thrillers and mystery novels, while Wei preferred sci-fi.

And in the blink of an eye, Polaris could find all the information on any of the subjects she took an interest in. Whenever guilt crept up on her for staging a faux identity, she'd remind herself that this was what it took to survive in 2117. And to actually make friends for once.

***

When Saturday came, Polaris borrowed nicer clothes from Myrka: a cream-colored dress matched with dark dress boots, laced up to her knees. Of course, she insisted on wringing a galaxy-themed scarf around her neck, even though Myrka said it looked dorky.

She texted Wei at four o'clock ("I'm ready when you are"), twisting the strands of her indigo hair around in her fingers nervously. She still didn't know how she was going to escape the terror of eating food. Maybe Polaris would just pretend to be sick. 

Of course, she'd met whole crowds of friendly people throughout her week in 2117, but this felt different. Somehow important. A momentous occasion that would affect her life forever. It was one of those days when everything felt like it was just about to go disastrously, irreparably wrong.

When Wei knocked on her door wearing a hoodie and jeans like he did every day, Polaris's heart felt like it was about to thump out of her chest, and her vents were whirring almost violently. Luckily, Wei also seemed too nervous to notice. 

"Y-you look nice," he said, and then Polaris smiled, and Wei smiled back, breaking the tension between them. "Let's go."

Andromeda

She tried to look as presentable as possible for her interview, brushing her wavy auburn hair into a ponytail and donning a simple blouse and jeans; it was just a waitress job. Ali had procured all the necessary credentials she would need, along with a well-written resumé (according to which she had experience at three different restaurants), so all that was left was the actual interview.

It struck Andromeda that her interview was scheduled for six o'clock, around the same time that Polaris would be eating dinner with Wei's family. She grinned at this thought while walking to Adagio, the place she was trying for a job at. Polaris, her little bean, was growing up! She felt like a preschool mom.

As she neared the quaint establishment on the corner, boasting elegant Christmas lights and decorations that stole the eye of passers-by, Andromeda rubbed her hands together and recited her answers, even though she knew she couldn't possibly forget. Her heart was beating faster now, and she opened the door and stepped inside, inhaling the sweet aroma of coffee beans and hot, fresh cakes, wafting over her like the smell of home. This must be the café section of the restaurant.

She smoothed her bangs, settled a smile on her face, and made her way around the lazily-moving customers to the counter. "Excuse me," Andromeda said, and the guy at the counter with a reindeer-patterned tie turned to look at her; "I'm Anne Lewis, and I have an interview here today."

"Oh. Uh, okay. I'll tell our manager," he said, pressing a button clipped to his shirt. Andromeda noticed that he was equipped with earbuds and a mic. "Otis? Yeah, there's a girl here for the interview--Anne Lewis--okay, gotcha."

He pressed the button once again and flashed a thumbs-up sign at Andromeda. "Head on in through the door over there. Our manager will be waiting for you. Good luck!"

She thanked him and passed through the crowds again, quickly sighting the door that he'd directed her to. With a deep breath, she pushed it open and continued inside.

Polaris

She and Wei took the bus to his aunt and uncle's house. They arrived by 4:30; it was fairly close to Caltech.

Outside the house, Wei spoke to Polaris in a hushed voice: "Okay, my cousin's in the military, and he's just coming home from the war for Christmas, so keep that in mind, okay? Don't...I mean, just try not to talk about it." 

Polaris nodded, eager to go inside. Wei rapped on the door, and after a few moments, it was opened by the couple that must've been Wei's aunt and uncle.

Amid a chorus of "Merry Christmas!" and "Oh, so this is the girl?" (followed by a series of overblown winks that Polaris pretended not to see), Polaris could see Wei's cousin, lingering in the back.

His aunt's resemblance to Wei stopped at the dark hair and eyes; she was distinctly Spanish, with high, curving cheekbones and a slight Spanish accent, so Polaris concluded that the Filipino uncle must've been the one related to Wei. They were both friendly enough. Wei's cousin Amir greeted Polaris politely and, from then on, didn't say a word.

A virtual fire blazed from a screen in the living room, warming the entire house. The scent of spices and herbs drifted into the air; Polaris could nearly taste the chicken curry as she worked on it with Wei's aunt; Wei's uncle was making halo-halo for them, while Wei himself helped Amir with the salad.

The food took nearly an hour to prepare, but finally they carried it out onto the dining room table. Although she'd relaxed somewhat since meeting Wei's relatives, Polaris still couldn't shake the jittery feeling from her stomach. The feeling that everything was about to collapse.

As everyone sat down around the mahogany table (Wei's family was one of the few that still had wooden tables; they must have been fairly wealthy), Polaris's heart was thudding.

She sat down with the others and piled as much food onto her plate as Wei did. The smells were tantalizing and incredibly pleasing, but Polaris felt no desire to consume the food--but she didn't want to seem rude, and after all, she'd helped prepare it.

Polaris decided that her best bet was simply to engage the others in conversation. She twirled her fork around on the plate and cleared her throat.

Everyone else looked up at her simultaneously, and she suddenly felt a lot more nervous than she had been. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "Um, I was just really interested--Amir, what's it like being in the military?"

The tension in the room immediately increased tenfold, and Polaris could almost imagine Victor groaning aloud in exasperation. She blushed and opened her mouth to apologize, but Amir beat her to it: "It's okay, guys. She's just curious."

He turned to her, looking Polaris in the eyes for the first time. She nearly flinched at how similar to Wei's they were, seeming to pierce her secrets and delve through her mind. 

"I was drafted. Of course. You know that, right? Otherwise I'd have joined the--well, you probably know it as the Rebel Alliance or something of the sort. The rebels, anyway. So don't think I'm a bad person for fighting. I had to."

Polaris tilted her head slightly, confused, but didn't raise any questions.

"My friend--this older soldier--he'd already been seriously injured before the war. But they needed as many soldiers as they could get, so they had to bring him in. And they turned him into a cyborg. He had a mechanical arm. Mechanical leg, too. We were fine for a few months, but then the rebels started using cyborgs." Amir lowered his voice. "They're nearly done working on androids right now. We found out."

Polaris's pulse was racing. She nodded nervously.

"So my cyborg friend--I mean, he wanted to join the rebels, but he was loyal to the military, yeah? He didn't do anything bad. But they got suspicious. And they cut off his limbs." Amir swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Cut them off. Inspected them. There was nothing wrong with them, of course. He wasn't linked to the rebels in any way. But it's not like they could reattach them--and it's not like they wanted to."

He looked away now, breathing harder through his nose.

"That's what being in the military is like." Amir scooted further into his chair, sitting up straight again and regaining his composure. "You wanted to know."

Andromeda

Sitting on the rolling chair in his office, Otis surveyed her from behind his glasses, his blue eyes raking over the scope of her figure. Andromeda could feel his gaze, almost tangibly settling on her every feature. She shifted uncomfortably but maintained what she hoped to be a pleasant expression on her face.

Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke. "I'm Otis Barkwell, the manager of Adagio," he said amiably. "And you must be Anne Lewis. You have quite an impressive resumé for a girl your age."

Andromeda smiled. "Thank you. You have quite an impressive restaurant," she said, which made him chuckle. 

"Please, Anne, sit down." Otis gestured to the padded chair in front of the desk. Andromeda sat, apprehensively awaiting the bombardment of questions that was sure to follow.

However, the questions that Otis asked were routine, and nothing that Andromeda hadn't practiced with Ali before. Greatest strengths and weaknesses. Experiences at previous restaurants. By the end of the session, she thought the interview had gone rather well, especially when Otis beamed at her and scribbled down the access code to a few contracts that she would have to sign online to seal the deal.

"We'll be so glad to have you on our team, Anne--oh, I nearly forgot. Just for security purposes, we'll have to take your fingerprint and retinal scan," Otis said cheerily, motioning to a screen set up at the corner of the desk. He rotated a set of lenses attached to it so that they were level with Andromeda's eyes.

"Don't you have those on record from my identification?" Andromeda asked.

"Oh, yes, but we have to make sure it's you. Don't worry, it's just protocol." Otis smiled again and patted the surface of the desk next to the screen. "Now place your right index finger here, please, and look into the scanner."

Andromeda did as she was told, although her heart was thudding into her throat, and she knew from the queasy, lurching feeling in her stomach that this was not going to end well. Ali had taken her actual fingerprint and retinal data, right? This was only a restaurant, after all; they weren't going to match her data to the official citizen database. Right?

Beep. Beep.

Beeeeeeep.

"Okay, Anne, they match up just fine, so you're good to go!" Otis grinned. Andromeda breathed a sigh of relief and pushed herself into a standing position.

"Thank you so mu--" 

"Wait."

A sudden wave of dizziness overcame her, but she raised her eyebrows and masked her increasing panic. "Yes?"

"Your fingerprints are synthetic." Otis looked up at her, the previous welcoming look in his eyes completely gone, replaced by a cold, hard, piercing glare. "The pressure points are perfectly hexagonal."

"I--wow," Andromeda said lamely. "I have nice fingerprints, I guess?" She laughed half-heartedly, backing away towards the door.

"Not only that," Otis declared, standing up suddenly, "your retinal scans show that your blood vessels are perfectly symmetrical."

Andromeda stood stock-still and looked into Otis's eyes. They flashed dangerously, and then he was lunging towards her, pinning her against the wall--"You're a cyborg," he hissed, his face so close to hers that she could feel his warm, damp breath against her cheek. "One of them."

"I--okay, yes! I'm a cyborg! But wh-what's wrong with that?" Andromeda cried out, tearing her arm from his grip and lurching towards the door.

"You're one of them!" Otis yelled, and with a gargled scream, he was clawing at her throat (Andromeda wondered if this man had gone insane) so forcefully that it was as if he were trying to rip out her vocal cords. Andromeda pulled a Polaris and smashed her arm into his head; he flailed for a moment and then fell, arcing to the ground and lying there, still as a mannequin.

She was breathing harder now, and she didn't know what to do, but it turned out she didn't have much of a choice.

An explosion of noise. Debris hitting her from every direction, scratching her skin, blinding her. She was suffocating. She was burning. She had collapsed and she was grabbing at bits and pieces of brick and mortar, and then she grasped something soft and recoiled, but there were voices. There were voices calling for her. Her eyelids fluttered open against the still-prevalent dust.

Amidst the falling rock, she had grabbed onto an outstretched hand, belonging to a slender figure holding onto a rope...or a ladder of sorts. Andromeda didn't have time to comprehend her surroundings before she was yanked up, still holding onto that one hand, grabbing onto the dangling rope--"Get in," came a voice, "get in!"

So in she went.

***

[A/N] Ahahahahaha plot twist! (This will be the last one for a while, don't worry.) (Maybe.) I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow. All your feedback is appreciated!