Tin Man

Chapter 3: Questioning Humanity

Chapter Three; Questioning Humanity

As I came back to the room where the human was, I heard loud thunder booming outside.

Rain was all I'd come to know.

I sat down beside the sleeping human. He looked so harmless, so peaceful.

He opened his eyes, I could tell the bright light above made it hurt for him to see.

"What the hell do you want."

It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Your name. You don't want to be called 'it', then give me a name."

He turned his head to face me.

"Iver, what's yours." Again, a statement rather than a question.

"Aliss."

"Would have expected numbers." I took his comment as an insult.

"Are you hungry?" He had a look of pure hatred on his face.

"Why would you have food here, do you eat?" This confused him.

"Yes. Well, us Model 6.7's do. We don't get hungry, we don't have to eat to survive, but we can eat. We're also anatomically correct."

"That's just wrong." He was bothered by this.

"Are you not anatomically correct?" He didn't answer me.

"What would you like to eat?" I didn't exactly want him to die of starvation, or to die at all for that matter. No one deserves that.

"I really don't care."

"Well I do." I started to undo the binds on his right wrist and ankles. When he finally sat up I saw the awful burn marks on the back of his neck.

"How did that happen?"

"I've got no clue."

"Huh?" I couldn't tell if he was lying or not.

"I don't remember. All I know is my name is Iver, and that you bloody machines are wretched, awful things."

"We are not!" I almost yelled at him.

"Yeah, you are." He took his eyes off of me and looked around the room.

"I envy you." I didn't take my glare off of him.

"Why would you envy me?" My statement pegged him as a surprise.

"Because you get to grow old, you get to grow up and die. One day you can leave this world, but I can never perish. I am permanent."

His eyes met mine, this time softened, as if he almost cared.

"How old are you?" Maybe he did care.

"Over a thousand years old."

"That's a long time." He looked like he felt sorry for me. Maybe we could be friends. Maybe we could get along and he could stay here and live with us.

No. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. The reality of this situation was that for there to be a human this young, there had to be others. And if there are others, if this human matters to them, then they will at some point come for him.

He could not stay here.

"I'll have someone bring you some food." On my way out the door he asked me a question.

"Are you sure you're not human?"

"Positive." I said as I closed and locked the door from the outside.

This man made me question humanity.