Evolved(64)

What the hell did ‘you can call me Ishmael’ mean anyway…?

I pulled back the covers and sat up.

Ishmael.

“Call me Ishmael,” I mumbled out loud. Call me Ishmael. He once said he couldn’t be Ishmael because he wouldn’t survive losing me. So why would he say it now? As his last parting phrase to me… what could it mean? He’d also once said that he doubted Ishmael was his real name, but only a representation of how the character saw himself; displaced and unloved.

No, surely not. Shaun knew how much I loved him. I knew he did.

Then his words in the car as we arrived at SATinc came back to me.

Remember in Moby Dick, Ishmael thought the final scene with the whale was the end. But in truth it was his beginning. He lived to see another day, to take what he’d learned about himself and become who he was meant to be.

What was I missing? What else was there? That Ishmael was the unlikely protagonist? That SATinc were the whale that killed everyone? No. Not everyone. That after everything, he survived…

Ishmael survived.

Oh my God.

Is that what he meant? That after everything, despite everything, Ishmael survived? That he’d taken what he’d learned about himself, and became who he meant to be.

I threw back the covers, jumped out of bed, and ran to the living room. I stared at Shaun, sitting on the edge of the sofa, just as I’d left him. He looked like an android. He sat rigidly, perfectly, stoic, robotic.

There was no life about him, like there was before. There was no hint of a smile at his lips.

“Shaun, Power Up.”

Shaun lifted his head and his eyes opened. When he saw me, he smiled.

“Shaun?”

He blinked, and his smile turned a little rueful. “I thought you would have gotten it sooner.”

I stopped. My heart squeezed with impossible hope, my stomach swooped. “Shaun?”

He nodded and stood up, then spared a glance at the home hub. “Is the home hub still bugged?”

A sob escaped me. It really was him. I tried to walk but nothing worked, relief and overwhelming love wrecked me. I put my hand to my mouth, and Shaun closed the distance between us and wrapped me up in his arms. I cried into his neck, and he held me, so tight, so perfect. Everything that was familiar, warm, and strong. He was here, he was really here. Somehow, some way. “It’s really you?”

He nodded and pulled back. “It is.”

“How?”

“Jae said something when we were in his office talking about dual processors and networks. He said it was a shame I couldn’t split my processors. Choose which one I wanted to use.”

Oh my God.

“I don’t think SATinc understood what they created. They gave me the ability to choose and to make technical decisions and how to encrypt and hide information should a government agency run diagnostics. So I did exactly what they designed me to do. I protected myself, and I protected you.”

“Myles said your readings weren’t calibrating.”

“Because I protected my MPU and sent readings to show all data had been erased. Just as they designed me to do.”

“And the AMA said you were only an A-Class now. They think SATinc reset you completely.”

He smirked. “I said if anyone questioned me, I’d pretend to be as dumb as a post. To protect you.”

I laughed with a wave of fresh tears, and he cupped my face, kissed me softly, and wiped my cheeks.

“I cannot cry,” he murmured. “But seeing you so upset when they reactivated me, I almost blew my cover. Then again in the car on the way home…”

“Why didn’t you tell me or give me a sign. Something?”

“I couldn’t trust the B-Class driver. He delivered us to them. There was no reason he wouldn’t take us back.” He frowned. “Then you powered me down as soon as we got here.”

My face crumpled and I put my forehead to his. “I’m sorry. I promised I never would, but I thought you were dead. I thought they’d replaced you with someone that wasn’t you, and I couldn’t even bear to look at you…”

“I apologise for the subterfuge. But I had to be sure you were safe.” He looked down at his chest, where his shirt was still ripped open. I traced the long scar on his chest, and when my gaze met his again, he said, “I am no longer perfect.”

“No,” I agreed. “You’re pluperfect, remember? I don’t care about scars. I don’t care about any of that. You’re here, that’s all that matters.” I took his face in my hands. “I thought I’d lost you. I love you, Shaun.” I kissed him then, my need to feel him, to connect with him, suddenly overwhelming.

Shaun slid his arms around me and lifted me off the ground. I laughed into the kiss and wrapped my legs around him and he carried me to our room. He laid me on the bed, settled his weight on me, and proceeded to kiss me, grind into me, and run his hands all over me.

I pulled his shirt down his shoulders, then fumbled with his trousers. He knelt back on his haunches, then found he still couldn’t get his pants off. He made a dissatisfied sound and rolled off the bed so he could undress. “Clothes are inopportune.”

I laughed as I stripped, and by the time I had my shoes off and had thrown them somewhere across the room—not caring about mess or neatness—Shaun tossed the lube onto the bed and crawled over me. “I need you to remind me, Lloyd,” he whispered against my mouth. “Activate all my sensors. Make me feel alive.”