Alien Beast

And when they part, Elon walks through their wake. “My task is to keep your father running,” he says. “Gerard, the giver.”

“Not creator,” Gerard says.

Elon smirks. “No, not creator,” he says. “A man who convinced me to kneel when everyone stood.”

“Earth Federation will strike back,” my father says. “They always do. But this time, we’re stronger.”

This time, love wins.

16

Ava

Three Weeks Later…

What does good feel like?

It’s a question I’ve been wondering for a long time now. And it’s one I think I’m finally willing to answer.

Good feels like walking into a brand new home with an alien I love. Good feels like getting to know his family over a warm cup of coffee. It’s waking up knowing all of this is real.

Forever, real.

No one knows what we went through together on the inside. It’s not on the News. It’s not on the holo-tweets, or the roll of live-feeds displayed on the high-rise condominiums. It’s certainly not painted on the street corners outside.

This time, Earth Federation took a loss. They’d rather keep their filthy mouth shuts than tell the entire world about it.

We had to do a little op-sec work to keep things under wraps. I had a fingerprint change and pupil swap, a firmware update, and a wetware upgrade to give me more agility and grace. You know, just in case anyone wants to sneak up on my family. Now I come pre-installed with an all-knowing software. A software my father designed.

Come and fight me. I dare you.

Elon didn’t stick around too long. Knowing every military base in the world was after him, he took his cash and went off the grid to build a smaller but better life. A life without the complications of mass production.

“I’m done with toys,” he said. “There’s a lot I never discovered. I want what you have. I want a family.”

None of us could blame him, so we wished him a big farewell. The next day, I woke up with a box of money on my doorstep and a bill of ownership to a compound just outside of Ohio.

Suddenly, we had an entire enterprise at our disposal.

So what does good feel like? It feels a little like every day.

Eye clamps hold my lids open as I steadily guide an old screwdriver against the crossed-ridges of a small bolt. Carefully, I turn and pull back, examining the motion of the hinge I just installed. It’s one of one hundred thousand.

There are many more to go.

I exhale and roll my tongue over the edge of my bottom lip. My creation is still far from being complete. Maybe in a year or two. Maybe in ten.

Lucky for me, time does not dictate our reality. All we need are minor adjustments now and then. Technically, we can live forever.

The darkness of my workspace would be complete if the light of my hologram disc didn’t infiltrate the room. Once I make another minor change, I hear footsteps coming my way. The workspace door opens, and Kalxor peeks his head inside.

I quickly remove the painful eye clamps and swivel my chair back, wiping a few beads of sweat from my forehead.

“Sorry to disturb you, baby,” Kalxor says.

I take a gander at the time. It’s nearing five in the morning. “Thank God you interrupted me. I should have finished hours ago,” I say. “Sometimes I just get so caught up, I forget to check the clock.”

He chuckles softly and enters the room, gawking at the project I’ve put so many hours into. “She really looks great, though,” he says. “A lot like you.”