2103:08:10:14:09:55

  My mood soured the longer I was in the forest. My wandering had turned aimless, and my itchy nose was now accompanied by burning eyes and many sneezes. I was slowly starting to lose it, when out of nowhere, a voice echoed down from far above.

  “To the person on the ground!” A tinny-sounding voice boomed through the forest. “Don’t move and sit tight! Help is on the way!”

  I started at the sudden noise, looking around for its origin before finally spotting something descending out of the clouds. A sleek, two-winged helicopter colored a reflective silvery-chrome appeared like a fly in the distance, slowly growing in size as it approached. It descended in complete silence, and even when it all but hovered right above me, the only noise it made was the wind whipping about and the intensified rustling of leaves.

  Then, it stopped moving and hovered in place just above the trees. I watched a door being pulled aside and a figure appear. They disappeared for a second, moving back in the helicopter before reemerging with a rope. They attached one end to something inside the helicopter before throwing the rest down, the other end of it landing about two meters away from me.

  The person followed soon after, sliding down the rope in some form of harness that they’d attached to it. The man was older, broader and taller than my creator had been, sporting a thick beard and shoulder length hair, both of which were beginning to gray. Aside from the harness, he wore an orange vest with reflective stripes, sturdy-looking green cargo pants and an orange helmet with some kind of a headset attached to it.

  The man landed with a loud thud. “God, never thought this would turn out to be a rescue mission. Thanks for that by the way; survey duty is a real bore,” the man said jokingly. When he turned to face me however, the smile quickly left and his expression turned serious. After examining me for a second – to his credit, without a hint of awkwardness despite my lack of clothes – and finding no obvious wounds, the smile returned in full force. “Though it seems you’re doing well enough on your own for the most part.” He pointed up to the helicopter. “Need a ride?”

  I nodded my head and all but ran up to the man, ready to get out of here. “Alright, slow down! First off, you’re not injured are you? I don’t see any obvious wounds. Feel any aches or pains?” He asked. I shook my head in response. “Good. I thought so, but had to ask. Better safe than sorry, you know?”

  I didn’t, but it seemed he wasn’t looking for a response. One hand went to his side and retrieved a small bag, which he opened. He pulled out a piece of clothing that looked similar, if flimsier, than his harness.

  “Now, arms up please,” he told me, and I did as asked. He slid the harness over me, tightened it with its pre-attached belts, before pulling out hook-like loops from the same bag he’d gotten the harness from. “Aaaand step on in with your legs- yes, just like that. Alright, just stay still for a second longer. Just need to attach these...” He put the hooks through the fabric loops on my harness and attached them to various places on his own harness. Finally, he locked them all in place with a click.

  “Aaaand done! Alright, this might be uncomfortable and scary for a second, but I promise you it’ll be over before you know it. Just keep your arms up for a second longer, and don’t struggle no matter how awkward or scary it is, alright?” he asked.

  I nodded somewhat hesitantly. Why couldn’t he just say-? “Alright, going up in three! Two!” He looped one arm around my waist, “One!” and another on the rope, which he tugged. “Liftoff!”

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  We shot off into the sky. I threw my arms around him and clung to his side, though not without moderating my strength. Didn’t want to hurt the man, even if he deserved it for not properly warning me. A couple seconds later, we were up by the helicopter and hauled inside by another figure – a woman, younger than the man though nearly as tall. She retrieved something from underneath her seat - special blanket of some kind. She unwrapped it and proceeded to wrap me in it.

  I shot the man a glare before I was forcibly sat down by the woman on one of the bolted-on chairs. The man just laughed at me, and I glared at him harder, promising vengeance.

  I wasn’t the only one annoyed. The woman who’d hauled us in was glaring at him as well. She swatted him on his helmet hard enough for it to shift over his eyes, after which he acted out an exaggerated cry of pain.

  Then the woman turned to me. “Don’t mind him, he’s a bit of an asshole,” the woman said, to which the man gave an unapologetic shrug, eyes still covered by the helmet. “He did make sure you’re alright, right?” She asked, sounding concerned.

  “Yes,” I told the woman honestly.

  She smiled comfortingly at me. “Good to hear, especially since it’s been two days since the earthquake first hit,” she said, then took on a more serious look. “Now, I hate to ask when you’re still rattled, but what were you doing here all by yourself? This is quite a remote place to be wandering about alone, especially for someone as young as yourself.”

  I bit my lip and thought for a moment, reaching out to the background my creator had planned for me. Unfortunately, it was corrupted and completely unreadable.

  Which was bad. Very bad.

  How should I answer? I didn’t have enough information to make a up a convincing backstory, and I wasn’t confident in my creativity to come up with a good lie.

  Telling the truth was not possible. My storage of historical knowledge, though more filled with my creator’s mad ramblings and complaints about the ‘general stupidity of people’ than historical fact, were clear on the general public’s and government’s stance on the creation of artificial life: don’t. While Mad Android Syndrome wasn’t real – according to my creator at least, which made me doubt the claim – it seemed he agreed that artificial life trended toward the villainous, even when their creation was meant to be heroic.

  It was the reason why he was so proud of creating the Heroic Impulse. It would negate that trend within me and the other androids he’d planned to make, thus allowing him to create his army of heroes. It didn’t make much sense since he also believed Mad Android Syndrome wasn’t real, but whatever. Just another datapoint indicating my creator wasn’t as smart as he’d wanted me to believe.

  Whatever the result of revealing my true nature would be – likely outright extermination, permanent incarceration or, best case scenario, becoming an object of study – it would hinder my future of being a hero.

  Which was not acceptable. Still, it did leave me at a dead end.

  I opened and shut my mouth a few times, trying to find the words necessary to get my rescuers to back off, but none came. Eventually, I settled on the simplest solution: shaking my head in denial. Maybe if I did that, they would just… stop asking or something.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Were you with your parents?” I shook my head again, refusing to answer. “Other family members?” Another shake of my head, starting to feel anxious at the continued questioning. “Friends? School? Anyone at all?” I just kept shaking my head, sweat starting to form. This woman was persistent.

  “Do you remember why you’re here? Where you are?” I shook my head rapidly, hoping the added emphasis would stop her from continuing. She tilted her head, hesitating for a second. “When you are?” More out of habit by now than any real forethought, I shook my head again.

  “Seems we might’ve found the cause of our earthquake,” I heard the man mutter. My head snapped to him at his words. The man started and looked away shamefaced for some reason. What did he mean by that?

  I looked intently at the man and decided to ask outright. “What do you mean?”

  Suddenly, a hand landed on my shoulder. I looked back to my interrogator, expecting something like anger or condemnation. However, the expression she wore, what I’d thought to be suspicion bordering on hostility before, turned out to be concern rather than anything hostile.

  “Calm down, you’re not in trouble,” she said softly. I slowly nodded my head. I didn’t comprehend what was going on, but it felt like things were moving in the right direction. “Look at me and follow my breathing, okay?” Again, I nodded and did as asked.

  I followed her lead. We took deep breaths in, then held onto it for a moment before slowly exhaling them out. We did this for a few minutes in the surprisingly calm atmosphere of the – now moving – rescue helicopter. Once she thought I’d calmed down enough – not that I’d been anything but calm, but the exercise seemed to soothe the woman – she decided to ask me one final question.

  “Do you remember your name?” The woman asked me.

  Something clicked, a piece of solid information bubbling up from the dregs of my corrupted libraries. I briefly considered whether or not to reveal it, but found no reason to withhold it.

  “Samantha Pearsson,” I replied.