Frank jumped over the counter, sliding like a cool character in a movie. He landed with a plop and spun in a circle. With his hands in the air, the sound of his shoes squeaking on the floor traveled in the air. The entire overacting moment made me grin.
He was dumb. But this was amusing.
Frank pressed a button on the register. The small monitor on top of it powered on. A gentle ding echoed on the twenty-fourth floor. He grinned at me. "What's the order, sir?" he asked.
My brows shot up as I laughed. Was this supposed to help me forget what just happened? The androids chose to remain together, potentially die together, because they couldn't abandon the others. It was a pretty dark moment, and I wasn't sure how a goofy server could help me forget it.
Yet, I couldn't stop grinning.
"Um, I don't know. What could I have?" I scratched my eyebrow. "It wasn't like I got a menu or anything."
"Oh, ho! My apologies, sir." Frank hopped back on the counter to tap the wall to his right. There was a screen there, one bright and clear. He pointed at the words that appeared before looking back at me. "Can you see this?" he asked.
The letters were small but yes, I could read them. I nodded and waved a hand. "Yup."
"Perfect." Frank moved back around. "Now, what could I get you, sir?"
I had to admit, this was cute. He reminded me of a school crush that would do anything to make you smile after a bad day. Only this was more serious than some teenage years. This was more than a bad grade or a poor choice, fifty lives would be lost in a few hours. They were digital lives, but to me, that made no difference.
Squinting my eyes, I read the menu.
"Hey, you said you could read it," Frank quipped.
"I can," I laughed. "Just small letters, okay? Years of working on machines and using computers take a toll."
His brows shot up as if he understood and my gaze returned to the menu. Honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone to a restaurant. Money was usually too tight to splurge on unnecessaries, and if I couldn't make it myself, I wasn't going to eat it. I could cook and I wasn't bad at it, so I never thought of venturing out for anything extra. Unless it was pizza or tacos; even with the state of the world, there were some dishes I couldn't say no to.
"Question." I raised my hand.
"One of many." Frank's hands hovered over the register.
"If you're doing this, who's going to cook it? Not saying I don't trust you," in a way, that was what I was saying and I didn't know too much about Frank to judge his cooking, "but I'm curious if you're able to make double-fried burritos."
I pointed at the menu. The food I mentioned was second on the list. I wasn't mad at the selection, it felt like every restaurant choice was within this room.
"Oh." Frank craned his head around to look at the menu. "That sounds good. Been a minute since I had any burrito." His fingers tapped at the register. "A little beef and cheese could bring up any mood."
"Wait." I cupped my hands. "I didn't say I wanted that."
"You don't want a burrito?" Frank cocked a brow. "A fried burrito. Blasphemy."
I let out a hearty laugh. The shock and disgust in Frank's voice were perfect. "I mean, I'll take it, but I wanted to know who will make it."
"Androids," Frank said it so easily that I had to lean back in my seat, shocked. "I press the button and they come out and prepare it."
Blinking, I scratched my knees. "There are just android cooks on deck?"
"Yeah." Frank lifted his gaze as he tapped another key. "This floor is their home, their cubes are in the back where we can't see. This is what they're programmed to do."
I felt like Frank needed to add that last detail about the androids and their programming. The cubes in the back were probably comfortable and built specifically for them, but I wasn't sure how I felt about androids being forced to cook food on command. It made me uneasy.
"You need food, you know that," Frank said. "I know Vicky cooks for you and prepares your meals, but have you ordered food to be delivered to your apartment? More than just oatmeal."
"You brought food that one time, remember?" I blinked at him. "We had breakfast together."
"Okay, yeah, one day." He leaned against the counter. "You're not a little guy, Elijah. You need more than just that."
I felt like a scolded child. "Frank..."
"Nope." He returned to the register. "You're going to get a meal and," he tapped another key, "have a glass of whiskey. Order's placed."
Despite my continuous disgust with the situation at Lyons, Frank had a point. One I ignored since coming here. I wasn't eating. My current predicament was taking a toll on my mental state. Was I bordering on depression? Possibly. I was ripped from my home and forced to live here, in this monstrous building. I saw firsthand the terrors the government was feeding the world. Yet, I was supposed to be the man to fix it.
To Katherine, I was a tool.
To Victoria, I was a connecting piece.
No parts of me were machinery so I couldn't become what either of them wanted. If I had a choice, just one would be to live away from all of this. To be free and secure within an ignorant bliss. I loved Victoria and would want her to live that way with me, but I knew now that she saw this as an opportunity; leaving with me wouldn't happen.
If I'm going to be stuck here, I need to make the best of it and do my part, right?
"Fine." I stood from my seat and approached the counter. Frank watched me with his hand flat on the counter, his head dipped to one side. He smiled when I got closer.
"We can make a plan," he said. "You've been moving nonstop since you got here, without any real direction."
Here was Frank making sense. I had an overall goal that I knew I eventually needed to reach. Victoria had the data I needed to use saved in her computers; I only needed to piece them together. Instead, I was doing other things. I hadn't fully explored this building. I hadn't seen every android within my space. There were more questions about this situation than I had answers. And if I was going to save the androids and the issues with the world, I needed to slow down and breathe.
Eat, and care for myself.
Brighter lights appeared behind him. I peered over his shoulder as I listened. Doors were opening in the room past the counter. Heavy footsteps echoed. My brows shot up as I looked back at Frank. "There are the android chefs."
He turned, peeked around the corner, and nodded. "Yup, that's them." He hopped back over the counter and stood by my side. "Now, let's sit and eat, talk and plan. How's that sound?"
It sounded fine to me.
***
We sat at the table in the center of the hall, each with a drink in our hand. The food hadn't made it to us yet; I wasn't even sure if it was ready. I wasn't going to rush the androids in this process. If they were meticulous with their craft, that only meant the deep-fried burritos would taste great.
They did come out to serve us our requested drinks. Androids, a woman and a man, appeared, dressed in a white button-up and black slacks, poured whiskey into two glasses for us. I stared at the alcohol with a smirk. With the amount in front of me, I could sleep for a week.
Swishing my drink around my glass, I leaned back in my seat and looked at Frank. "So, tell me, what's the sudden change?"
"Change with what?" Frank sipped from his glass. "Are we going to talk about me right now?"
"Yup." Licking my lip, I got comfortable in my chair. "You've been this," I moved my hands in a circle around my head, "rollercoaster of personalities. Tonight, though, it felt solidified. No, since last night." I locked onto his gaze. "You seem very sure of yourself and determined, so please, tell me what's changed."
"If I'm going to be one hundred percent honest with you, I realized we are the same." He pointed at me, then pressed a thumb against his chest. "I know you've said it a lot, but I think I feel it now." He stared into his glass. "We're both here without much choice in the matter. In order for things to work in our favor, and the world," he lifted his glass, "we need to work together with this."
I took a slow yet long gulp of whiskey. Closing my eyes, I hissed as I felt the burn travel down my chest. I returned my glass to the table and turned it so I'd see the bubbles move to the surface. "I'm going to be honest with you, Frank." I opened my eyes and met his gaze. "I've been here—what, two weeks?"
He shrugged and nodded.
"It feels like there's a lot more to the world than I'm prepared for. I lived in my bubble with Vicky for too long. Now, I'm in the front of it all, seeing the internal damage, and expected to fix it." Lifting my glass, I sipped again. "I think I'm a shit savior."
"I don't think you're a savior."
My brows shot up. That wasn't the response I was expecting.
As if he saw it all over my face, Frank chuckled. "What I mean is, I know when I saw you and let my fears show, I wanted you to help fix the issue. You've helped me see that this," he traced the table, "is manageable. The more I realized it, the calmer I felt. And I'm not the guy in the front, but you have the potential to fic the real issue. Everything will eventually fall into place," he laughed.
What he said made sense. I could fix the surface and the underlying problem. Eventually, it'll all settle and work itself out; at least, that's what I hoped for. Wishful thinking, right?
"You honestly believe I can do this." I swished my drink again. "I need to believe that I can do this, too."
"You can," he lifted his glass for a toast, "and I, as your partner, will make sure you have the tools to make this happen."
What he said warmed me. I need to have that kind of motivation in myself. There wasn't a possibility of being successful in this goal if I couldn't see the end.
Frank could help me see that. Lifting my glass, I gave him the toast he was waiting for. "Let's work toward it and make it happen."
Our glasses clinked.
"Tomorrow, we'll go through the instructional floor and start," he lifted his brows, "one android at a time."
I drank from my glass. "Hopefully I don't mess up again."