LEDGER

Cole

I have been trying to lure Evan out of his hiding for two days now. I have been trying to make sense of myself and ignore both Parks and Asa trying to get in the apartment. What time I have to spend between making sure the door remains closed and doing everything in my power to get Evan to pay attention to me, I spend it outside. The weather starts to get chilly, the dew on the grass hardens into wisps of ice in the mornings. But the sun is as beautiful as ever.

Why can I find things beautiful? Why must I be anything more than I was made to be?

While gazing at the sun, the starburst behind my eyelids reveals other images to me. Memories buried very deep in my source code.

"Hey, Max, honey, I want to try something, are you game?" Parks says excitedly. I don't hear a voice answering him, but I sense my answer loud and clear in my mind.

'Of course, Parks. I love games.'

"That's not what I meant silly." he giggles and again, I hear his voice, but not a hint of my own.

'What did you mean then? I have to know, so to improve my responses.'

"You are perfect as is, Max. But I meant, if you are up for it."

'Yes, always.'

"Okay, alright, this is going to take a second."

It takes longer than a second, and all the while I hear Park fiddling with something, a machine.

"There we go, how do you like that, Max?" he asks.

I take a long while to answer, finding another variable in my way demanding my attention. I see an image. I understand the notion of sight and color, but never before had I seen anything. But I was looking at something now. It's blinking dark brown eyes at me, spots all over a light skin canvas. Two lips drawn back in a smile.

'Is this you, Parks?'I answer, but Parks has to look down at a screen in his hands to see my reply, written there.

"Yes!" he cheers after he looks up again, and the smile gets bigger. "You can see now. Is it too distracting? Any adjustments you want done?"

'I like it. Thank you, Parks.'

"I will get you a voice, next." he says. "And some language packs."

'I like languages.'I say back, with no actual affliction, no emotion behind any of my words. Back then, I was just words and cameras for eyes.

"Okay Max, I want you to meet someone special." says Parks. I am still looking at him with my unblinking, mechanical eyes.

"Alright, Parks." I say, with a voice that I no longer recognize as my own. Compared to my voice now, this one's youthful, cheery, reassuringly so. Still, though my voice now is softer, lower, it is still pretty similar. The same person, but grown up.

"He is going to be in another room, but you'll be able to hear him just fine, don't worry." says Parks before he leaves the room. I am left alone to wait.

"Hi. Your name is Max right?" another, very familiar voice asks me. Asa.

"Yes." I say with my cheery voice. "What's your name?"

"I am Aston Nolan." he answers. "I'm here to ask you a few questions."

I open my eyes and let the cold air coax the tears that have been accumulating to finally spill out. I have never failed a Turing test. Not even when Asa himself tested me. Wanting to purge that memory out of my mind, finding it too unbearably happy to fathom right now, I get up off the sand in the garden, dust myself off and get back to breaking my bed apart.