Ballerina

The lilting melody made by the screams of rusted cogs churning against each other echoed through the wasteland. The ballerina twirled in his cold, metal hands, her arabesque slightly askew. One arm was snapped off; one leg was melted away along with half of her face, yet still she danced. Her song was broken and every third note fell flat yet every imperfection seemed perfect. It never failed to bring a smile to his crafted face.

There he sat, perched on top of the waste which had been deemed treasure at the height of the human empire. From the top of where he sat to the edge of the glowing green sunset all he could see was mountains and mountains of the rubbish. It wasn’t hard to imagine how that empire had crumbled. Such a value on material things, such waste. There was a beauty in that though.

The locket’s song began to slow, the churning of the wheels louder than the tune itself as it faded. He paused, glancing at the messages at the side of his view.

‘Upgrade E4 completed. If you experience any technical difficulties please consult your nearest technician. Have a pleasant day.’

He sighed and flicked it off his screen. The new emotions patch. He didn’t feel different. It was only in the beta stage of trials and he was one of the few models compatible with it. Maybe a patch wasn’t enough to simulate the kind of thing he wanted. He had worked in the labs with the last of the humans. Their screams still echoed through his mind years after. Their fear, their terror. Their pain and their joy. They felt everything with such an intensity. That’s what he wanted.

He’d seen a woman give up her life to temporarily protect her daughter- a pointless sacrifice, but it had made her … happy.

Humans didn’t have a place in the world they had created. All of the smoke and fumes from the upgrades and birthing factories had made it deadly for them. The only ones that survived lived in labs as test subjects. Even though their lives were constricted it was what he dreamed of, a life beyond the system had constructed for him. Emotions strong enough to make him want to live for something. Emotions powerful enough that he’d be willing to die for something.

His fingers tightened around the half-broken key of the locket, twisting it to bring the song back to life. To make the ballerina dance again. The song wove its way through the piles of rubbish as it started again. He stared down, watching the ballerina as she spun. The pads of his silicon fingers stroked the dinted metal of the locket. Tracing the scars left by time, etching a story into the delicate bow of the golden heart.

This was his treasure.

The tune was soon broken by a shift just beyond the nearest mound. His head shot up, irises twisting to zoom his sight in on the human. A woman. She was clawing her way over the top of rubbish. The locket fell to his side, balanced precariously on the rubbish; it closed just enough to fall silent, leaving only the sound of her slowly dragging herself closer to him.

Her limbs trembled with each movement. The trash slipped beneath her weight. For every two inches she dragged herself forward she slipped one back. There was pain on her face. The crinkle between her eyebrows, the tear streaks through the ash of her cheeks, the wheezing of each exhale and the gurgled gasp of every inhale. Through that there was also … determination.

Her eyes were locked on him, clear blue steady through the pain. He could imagine what she felt. Each of them overwhelming and driving her to him. It was beautiful. Beyond beautiful. It was a dream.

When she reached his side she pushed herself up towards him as best she could with only one leg. One arm held herself upright and the other stretched out to him, wavering but reaching. Half her face was disfigured and she gasped for each breath through the toxic air. A silent beg for help whispered through her parted lips.

He reached forward, metal and rubber wrapping around flesh.

For a moment a smile danced across her lips. He saw her for what she was. His ballerina.

His fingers tightened around her hand, clasping tight at what was his. A flicker of pain crossed her face, but it was clouded by hope. While staring into her glistening, clear blue eyes he drew his hand back slowly. Ripping her arm from her body as he smiled back at her.

The locket tumbled further down the mould, opening wide enough that its song started again, harmonising with her screams.

His human matched his dancing ballerina. Missing limbs and malformed features painting them both perfection.

He felt … happy.

Maybe the patch had worked.

He felt … human.