Adam-2 by Alastair Chisholm

Author:Alastair Chisholm
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nosy Crow
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

The dorm was quiet, with everyone either out on patrols or helping with the Midwinter festivities. Linden collapsed into hir bunk with relief and surfaced, four hours later, feeling groggy but more human. Ze sat up, shaking hir head. The world was still backwards. The robot was saving them. Runa trusted it. Callum trusted it. Could they be right? Was that possible?

Linden sighed, and reached into hir locker for the tree decoration ze’d been working on. It was a simple thing – ze wasn’t much of a woodcarver – just a heart shape, painted red and pricked out with a pattern of stars. Ze gazed at it for a while. Then ze stood, took a deep breath, and left the dorm.

The crowd outside were in good cheer, laughing and chatting. In the courtyard, the great tree was already covered in paper chains and decorations, and lit by a string of lights. Linden went across and hung hir heart as high as ze could reach.

“Linden!” Runa barrelled into hir, and Linden grinned. “Isn’t it great? I’m so glad you’re back in time! I’ve been telling Adam about it. He’s never seen a Midwinter before!”

The little robot was with her, peering about, its eyes moving rapidly in their sockets. Now it nodded in an exaggerated way, its head bouncing up and down.

“It is very exciting!” it said. “Everyone is happy!” It gazed at the tree. “I like the decorations.”

“Oh,” gasped Runa. Her face fell, and she covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh dear, I should have said. Linden, I’m sorry—”

“It’s OK.” Linden looked at Adam and forced a smile. “It’s a Midwinter tradition,” ze said. “The decorations are for loved ones who’ve died this year. You make a decoration, and hang it on the great tree to remember. Every decoration is someone lost.” Ze hesitated, then pointed to the little wooden heart. “That’s for my mother. She was killed. By … by Funks.”

The robot examined it, and the other decorations. There were so many this year. Some complex, some plain. Some made by tiny children.

“They are very pretty,” it said at last.

There was an awkward silence. Eventually, the robot said, “Are there other traditions?”

“Last Light,” said Runa. “Today’s the shortest day of the year, and we watch the sun go down. Then there’s a ceilidh – a party – with dancing and music, and stories –” her eyes flicked to Linden’s, and away – “and then at midnight we fire the Big Gun. Come and see!”

She dragged them both through the castle grounds, pointing things out to Adam – the stalls, the games, the roasted boar on a spit, the mock fights. Everywhere they went, the robot expressed amazement and delight, and the people of Keep smiled and nodded to it. Only … Linden noticed that, when Adam turned away, the smiles often faded, or turned sly. The machine wasn’t as much a part of Keep as it thought; the humans were tolerating it, nothing more. Ze found hirself feeling oddly sorry for it.

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