Francisco's wife listened to Ma Cherie Amour by Stevie Wonder. She looked over the city from her backyard. She never went for walks before tonight.

Francisco left her. So did her son. She was alone in the universe.

Francisco's wife never believed to say sorry made a difference. She never apologized. She never said thank you either. She believed making the change to avoid future need for apology.

Her mother came around. They went for a walk through the paseos. They linked arms while the mother sought to console her daughter. They stopped each time Francisco's wife broke into tears. Where had she gone wrong? She'd always been a loyal wife. She'd always loved her son.

But her mother told her that Francisco would come back around. And so would her son. If they never return, she would still have the beautiful house, the beautiful children, neighborhood friends and a plethora of family members. Her family was doing well and nothing would change that. Clouds carried darkness over the stars until a single paseo lamp provided all the light around them.

Francisco's wife took a deep breath and she nodded to her mother. She was right. She always was. Life wasn't fair, but it always held her in favor. That was enough to be grateful for. And she wished all the downtrodden of Earth will follow in her fortune while time progresses.

When they returned to the house and kissed the kids goodnight, the last door they knocked on belonged to Clarita. "Good night, Clarita."

But Clarita hushed Carl to keep quiet while they sat together on her bed. Her mother and grandmother's footsteps crossed the hall and Clarita knew she was alone for the night with her (quite literal) boy toy.

Clarita showed Carl her collection of poetry. She'd been writing poetry since she was four-years-old and Carl took interest. He rose her ego by the way his expression changed to match the sonder.

Privately, she took pride in the way writing beautiful poetry was the last thing robots could not do.

While Carl read her poetry out loud, even walking about the room, acting out her linguistic imagination, her eyes carved him like a block of art wood. She thought about what it would be like to kiss him. To do all the things her friends from school said they'd done with their boy toys. In the middle of her daydream, he turned to her and asked her what she was thinking about.

She snapped out of her delicious trans and said, "Nothing. I was thinking about nothing at all."

He sent her a weird look and went on shuffling through her poetry. Then she said, a little fearfully, "What can you do, exactly?"

He lifted his eyes to her and shrugged. "I don't know," he said, humbly. "Nothing really. I'm just here to show you how to be yourself."

"What do you mean?" Said Clarita.

"Having a humanoid as a friend like me will help you learn how to be yourself without feeling judged. I might point out any negativity in your language if you want to be more positive. I can point out modifiers in your speech in case you want to speak more assertively."

"So you're a linguist," said Clarita, a joking smile smeared her face.

Carl blushed. "I can also train you to be intimate without fear of judgement as well," he said. And this made Clarita catch her breath. Carl went on with unthreatening sincerity: "You can walk around in your birthday suit and I will never judge you, unless you wish to be critiqued on your fitness or shape. I can make love to you and tell you how good you are, in case you are worried about performance."

Clarita blushed, frozen as a stone on her bed.

But Carl begged her pardon. "I will only look at you as a friend if you look at me as a friend. I will only touch you as a lover if you touch me as a lover. I will mirror all your positive interactions with my own. I am coded for positive reciprocity."

"Positive reciprocity?" Clarita asked.

Carl nodded. "I won't be angry at you if you lash out at me. Unless that is something you desire. If you want a fight, I will give you a fight."

Clarita hardly blinked. She could only think about the sadistic, masochistic, exhibitionist things her craziest colleagues were doing with their boy toys. She on the other hand, wasn't sure if she even wanted to practice kissing. Replica or not, Carl looked human. Sounded human. Felt human. He was so real, that her hormones kicked off every time his shiny brown eyes reflected the TV lights. As he glanced at her, she felt her mouth water.

"So basically," she hesitated, "you're my slave."

"Maybe," he said. His shadow disappeared off the floor. "If you treat me that way."

She unconsciously licked her lips before clearing her throat.

But Carl spoke: "You'll never experience the pain of a human relationship with me. I'll work for you. Make love to you. Live life with you."

Clarita felt her chest expand. He made it sound so easy.

"I can raise your children. I can formulate sperm through planted, perfected DNA printing and sperm augmentation."

He smiled while Clarita seemed taken aback by the heaviness hidden by his lightness of speech. Carl continued:

"I never tire. I am free to cuddle when you feel lonely. And I will always be there to read my poetry."

This made Clarita suddenly smile. "You will never tire of my poetry," she said, to clarify.

He shook his head. "Never. I will read your poetry day in and day out if you want."

Clarita couldn't help but smile.

And Carl sensed her desire through the eyes. Through the way she looked at him. Through her micro expressions. He walked to her beside the bed, and the two of them flickered under the changing colors of the TV lights.

He said:

"I'll be here always,

As long as you wish,

I'll be here forever,

Awaiting your kiss."

At first she thought nothing of his little rhyme. Merely smiled at his wit.

But then her smile dropped, and her eyes escaped hypnosis, and she realized:

"Where did you hear that poem?"

He looked at her weirdly for a moment and said, "What do you mean?"

Her eyes blinked rapidly until she pressed her eyes closed and took a deep breath. "I thought only humans could write poetry."

They stared at each other long and hard for a moment, until Carl broke the silence.

"Well," Carl said, "now, I guess... we can too."

Clarita touched her chest, because she found it hard to breathe. Her right hand, her writing hand, began to shake. She was now irrelevant, in a world where a little human like her wasn't so special anymore.

Meanwhile...

Back on Mars, I thought I would cry. My heart leapt almost as fast as I did to my feet. I ditched my partner, my kid, the doctor, the nurse, the two engineers—and catapulted down the mountain on foot. I wanted to reach that shuttle earlier than anyone else. I knew there was a good chance that shuttle only had room for one, and if that was the case, I would be that one. I was hungry to get home. I had no one else on my mind but myself. Call me selfish, call me deranged, all I could see was the ground beneath me, leading down the mountain in a jagged zigzag, to the smoking missile on the field of terrain far below.

"Clow!" Shouted the doctor.

"Clow! Clow, wait!" Shouted the engineers.

But I ran on, stumbling and several times landing on my ankles awkwardly which would possibly lead to injury I might only notice once my adrenaline returned to normal. I could hear the rocks crackling behind and above me, where the sound of the engineers' and doctor's feet raced to the same destination. I knew the nurse had stayed to tend to Valencia and the child. But the men and I found our goal, and forgot about the people we left behind.

Goosebumps enveloped my skin while the hairs stood up on my body and I slid on a rock and split my knee when I staggered into a tumble roll. The stars and dark ground spun in my sight while I tasted the Martian landscape and gasped for the hit-or-miss air circling overhead. Finally, I caught my wrist on a rock but to no avail—I found my feet still sliding over passing gravel, and the edge of a cliff approached quickly, when someone tugged at my shirt to catch my fall. But when he did, I tumbled, and the figure—one of the engineers—tripped over my ankle, and lunged off the cliff—screaming, ripping like a dart through the wind... the silence meant death.

Another scream. The other engineer pierced the night sky when he screamed his partners name, but in his uproar, he staggered to his knees, plunged down the gravel, and before I could reach out my hand, swept passed me—and fell like a ragdoll off into the abyss of death.

Then came the doctor. Screaming. He came running just as greedily for his spot on the shuttle like me. He slipped and might have cracked his arm on the fall. The gravel carried him down the slope like marbles. He shimmied his limbs beneath him but sweated all the way toward me. I had a moment to think about whether I should save this man. If I should let him die and assure my place on the shuttle. And when I realized saving him would possibly earn him my spot, and maybe even kill me because I stayed in a place without food or water, my body seized into a statue, and I watched like a paralyzed animal, struck on the road by a speeding car, and saw the figure of a professional who healed ailments and saved lives, be scraped off the side of the mountain like a hand swats a fly. His scream vanished into the pit of darkness. And my body shook with the fear of heights, and the guilt of murder.

I lay on my stomach like a beaten rat. Like a shamed adulterer. Like an agonizing widow. I was a fly. Worthless. And selfish. And I stood like a disgusting pig to my hooves and lumbered slowly until my footing found its way down the rocks. I stepped sideways on my feet, and clutched to a stop when I heard the nurse scream out the name of the doctor.

"Are you there?!" She hollered.

No answer came from the doctor.

She screamed to him again. And I could feel her worry shake through me.

When she called a third time, I thought she might come down to investigate. So turning to the shuttle and singing it glow, seeing how close down it was, I hollered up to her, and told my lie:

"He's down ahead of me," I shouted back at her. "Wait there. We'll come back for you!"

At first there was no answer. I could feel her hesitation.

"Okay?" I shouted. I wanted to make sure she stayed up there with Valencia and the child. I wanted to make sure the only reason I saw them again was because I found enough room on that shuttle.

After a moment, the nurse said, in a small voice that only traveled through a thin echo writing finely over the spilling dirt, "Okay. Don't leave without us."

I waited a moment. Considering a reply. But when I chose not to reply at all because I did not want to make a promise I could not keep, I slithered away down the rest of the mountain, twitching my whiskers, wagging my naked tail, and reached the bottom before I broke into a full-out sprint to the shuttle. It was purple and the second I reached it, the door opened. Inside, I saw the hand fall. Valencia's hand. Blood spilled off her milky wrist. I skidded to my knees and found her looking dead on the LED floor of the shuttle. It was a shuttle indeed: return button and optional steering on the walls galore. There was only room for one though.

So, when I shook her and she returned no signal of life, I pulled her out of the pod, and left her in the dirt while I plunged in and pulled the door closed. I locked it and thought about how long I'd wanted to go home. How this very moment meant I would be returning to Earth. Be able to see the beaches. See the blue sky in the daytime. Run in the salt-sea air and taste the clear ocean. Go home.

See my life begin again.

I looked out the window. And saw Valencia lay there. Dead or dying on the ground. And I decided I would do nothing about it. She came here for a reason, I thought, to help me home. So, I would take this chance. I pressed the Home button on the wall. And the shuttle's lights blew out. The shuttle vibrated and a little red seatbelt light switched on. I fell to a chair, and strapped myself in. My heart racing. I looked all around me at Mars. All the darkness. I closed my eyes and hoped when I opened them that they would see the wonders of the universe breaking past, leaving fast so I would never have to witness its wonders again. I wanted Earth and nothing else. Tears bridged the threshold of their ducts and I bathed in them for a sweet moment that went like a flash.

The gripped my seat and wailed out loud as I felt my body fall. The pressure intensified when a burst of energy sent the shuttle launching upward. And my head hit the wall behind me hard. The speed upward was so fast, and I took no time to breath. The missile threw me into space. And I felt the blood rush down my brain, and implode my toes. I passed out, and would wake up in a place I never expected.