The Cello

E7 drew the bow across the neck of the instrument in a final, powerful note. He let the lingering music ring in the air around him and breathed a sigh of contentment.

Cautiously, he opened his eyes.

A9 sat in the place on the bed, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the floor in front of her feet. He watched her bring a shaking hand up and wipe it across her face, disrupting the path of tears running from her human eye. She gripped the dusty blanket and her body began to mimic the shaking of her hands. A smile broke across her face and she began to gasp, something between a laugh and a cry escaping her throat. Emotion took hold of the boy as he watched the chains of oppression fall from this creature whom he cared so deeply for. A tear ran down his face, as he helplessly watched her invisible struggle.

Suddenly her breath came up short and her gaze snapped up to meet his. For a split second her quivering -- and time itself, it seemed -- stopped, and then she slumped over, limp as an empty burlap sack.

The boy nearly dropped the instrument in his haste to get to her, but by some miracle he was able to lean it against the wall and still catch her before her body slid off the bed. Picking her up, he laid her safely on the dusty covers and then crawled up onto the bed with her. He positioned himself so her head was cradled in his lap, and allowed his flesh fingers to brush over her cropped curly hair.

How could he have not felt this burning before? It seemed so simple to him now -- so easy -- that he hardly remembered what the darkness had been like. His finger traced the metal plate that had so many years ago become part of her skull. The piece extended from her mechanical eye to her temple, and then up past her hairline, disrupting the reign of her short black curls with a rectangular patch of metal that almost extended as far back as her ear. It was nearly identical to his, except on her’s was engraved her code. A9. He touched the flesh of her jaw, and felt the lingering wet of her tears. Once again, he felt the beautiful surge of empathetic emotion, and wept softly. They were happy tears -- tears of release, and of passion for this new life - of gratitude for the chance to spend it with her.

He sat with her as the filtered light coming down the hallway and through the open door faded gradually into deep shades of orange and then crimson, and then went dark. Eventually he pulled his legs out from beneath her, and lay down next to her, wrapping his metal hand around her waist. Her breathing was soft and rhythmic beneath his arm. Over her head, in the pallid electric light, his eyes found the strange still images which still hung on the wall. This time when he looked at the man and woman wearing black and white, he saw their faces. Before he had only seen eyes and noses and lips, but now he saw the warmth in the woman’s smile. He saw the helpless look of devotion in the man’s gaze. He saw the color pink like fireworks when their lips touched.

There, with A9 in his arms, he finally understood.

Another hour passed, and E7 was drifting. His electronics were flipping on and off while his mind wandered in and out of sleep.

The loud snap of a branch from outside startled him awake. The rush of adrenaline and fear forced him upright and he trained his ears and eyes on the open door, waiting for more.

“This is it,” barked a voice from above -- the slight electronic sound of the voice was all too familiar. Enforcers.

The muscles in his limbs went taut, and he twisted around to shake A9 awake. She moaned softly and turned her face away.

“A9,” The boy hissed, “Wake up!”

The backlight on her electronic eye flickered on, and she looked up at him, groggily. The look in her eyes quickly went from sleepy and disconnected, to wide with an amazement he recognized.

“E7,” She whispered, almost to herself, “How could I have never seen this before -- seen you before?”

For a split second, he forgot his anxiety, and a smile broke across his face. Familiar indeed. She was seeing him for the first time like he had seen her.

“There’s nothing here!” Growled another voice. E7 stiffened, and he watched A9 freeze in fear too.

“Enforcers?” she whispered, a quiver in her voice. She clutched at her chest, and let out a small grasp, “Why do struggle breathe?”

“The music is both beautiful and painful,” He said, as he got cautiously off the bed, “Something I never would have understood two days ago.”

“He keep disappearing right here, and I swear on this gods forsaken planet, if you tell me there’s nothing here again I will skin you myself!” The enforcers voice sounded much closer now.

“Hurry!” E7 hissed, as he crouched down and began silently pulling boxes from beneath the bed, “You can lay under here.”

She slipped off the bed and sunk to her knees beside him.

“There’s room for both of us.” She whispered, moving an unknown dusty relic and sliding easily into the space he had cleared. E7 grimaced inwardly as he realized what he had to do.

If they found him, they wouldn’t look hard enough to find her.

He leapt up and grabbed the wooden instrument from where he had left it against the wall, careful not to touch the strings.

“I need you to hold this,” He whispered as he slid it under the bed after her, “I’ll hide somewhere else.”

“E7!” he heard her squeak, “Please stay with me!”

There was the distinct sound of branches being moved right outside the small hallway.

“Over here!” The enforcer shouted, and moonlight flooded into the room as the branches were thrown aside.

E7 shoved back the last of the boxes and relics, hiding A9 and the instrument completely, and stood up. He moved over to the table and searched frantically around the cluttered shelter for somewhere to conceal himself. The clap of boots hitting the concrete slab echoed in his ears and he pressed his back against the counter in the kitchen area. He could no longer see the hallway, but he heard the other enforcer jump down into the bunker after the first. They were quiet, as they came through the hallway, but he listened in horror as their breathing, amplified by their helmets, come gradually nearer.

Fear, stronger and more crippling than he had felt it before, held him captive. He knew what would come, but everything in him was resisting it. To be deactivated for being dysfunctional, after only just discovering how glorious dysfunction was? How could it all end so soon? But yet, he knew he could never have evaded them forever -- no matter how fervently he wanted to. This had become his inevitable fate the moment he had found this bunker. But oh how his skin crawled in indignation. The color red practically oozed from him. How dare they oppress him. How dare they use his own mind to enslave him.

He held his breath as he watched the enforcer come into view around the corner. For a moment, his foreign face was turned away from him, but the creature’s head swiveled around and caught the boy dead in his gaze.

In half a second E7 found himself with the enforcer’s elbow pressed against his throat, trapping him with his back to the wall.

“There you are, you slimy little earthling,” The alien growled from within his helmet. E7 struggled for breath, his mismatched hands clawing the enforcer’s arm.

“What is this place?” the other suited figure asked, his back turned to them as he examined the dusty room.

“I don’t know, and don’t care.” The man said, “But it must have been cloaking their tracking systems. Nasty pill you’ve been, haven’t you?” He spat at the writhing boy.

E7 hadn’t realized he’s been crying again, but between labored breaths, he felt the salty water drip onto his own hand. The other enforcer joined the first as he stared down at the boy.

“Is it crying?” He asked.

“Well obviously it’s systems are malfunctioning or it wouldn’t have kept coming here to hide out.”

“Shall we then?”

“Yea, let’s take him in.” With that the enforcer released him and he dropped to all-fours choking and gasping for air. Before he could recover, he was grabbed by the flesh arm and yanked to his feet.

The enforcer grunted as he pulled E7 toward the hall.

“It’s over for you, little wretch.”

E7’s only real thought in all the anger and pain, was that A9 was safe.

She was safe, and nothing else mattered.