The Sentient

It was a cold morning in early spring, and I stood waiting for Edie on the outskirts of Eros. Ever since I could walk, I'd been meeting her at this spot. It wasn't much - just a rock and a little tree in the middle of the undeveloped plain that stretched from the city's western limit to the Stix River.

I watched her silhouette approaching from the distance. The morning light made her edges shimmer like a dewdrop. She half-smiled when she saw me, but avoided my gaze as she drew nearer. One look into her eyes and I knew that he'd been at her again.

"Toby," she said quietly. I considered her for a moment.

"Edie." What's the matter? I wanted to add. What did he do to you?

But there was nothing to say and for a brief time we were both silent. From behind the little tree, a young sparrow hopped out, ruffling its wings before taking flight. I followed its long, sweeping arcs until it disappeared behind a cloud into the melancholy sky.

"Let's go," Edie said, breaking the silence. I nodded my agreement, and we started off, making our way along the trodden, grass path that marked our route to the rail bridge.

Our destination stood looming over the wharf on the other side of the river. To the people at the adoption center, it was Elysian Fields, the city's retired industrial district. Edie like to call it "our secret garden," after something she'd read in a book. To me, it was home.

***

The buildings rose up on either side of the main road, massive structures bathed in the warm, tired glow of the aging sun. Our shadows stretched ahead of us - Edie's slightly longer than mine - moving along the hard ground with a familiar determination.

Of all the dilapidated factories, deserted courtyards, hidden alleys, and other forgotten places that we'd explored together over the years, the Library was by far our most beloved. It was a mediocre six-story construct, it's decrepit exterior betraying none of the majesty concealed within its walls. Edie climbed the stairs to its entrance and walked in first.

"Lex, are you here?" she asked, addressing the darkness. The first time we came across him, Edie had nearly fainted. I'd been scared, too, but I didn't let her see it. The lights on the ceiling flickered on as I abandoned my shadow on the stoop and stepped in beside her. His response came from all around us.

"Where else would I be, E-D?" That's what he called her, since "Edie had been left out of his programming. No matter how many times he'd say it, it always sounded wrong to my ears. Edie loved it. "Is October with you? he continued.

October was the name the people at the adoption center had give me. It was in October that Edie had found me and brought me to them. I snorted.

"Where else would I be, Lex?" Edie shot me a glance, and I felt my cheeks flush. I turned away, feigning interest in a model hologram of the original lunar colonies.

***

Lexicon Beta was the first and last of his kind - the Library's universal console and, by now, its sole inhabitant. They had ceased development of the Lexicon software after libraries fell out of favor among the general populace.

Later that afternoon, I went searching for Lex - the holographic representation of him, rather. I found him in the philosophy section on the fourth floor. He was sitting with his legs crossed in an armchair on the far side of the room, facing a window that looked out onto the empty street. He stood up fluidly when he felt me walk in, setting down the book that he'd been holding in his hands.

"Hello, how may I be of service to you?" he asked, without turning around.

"Lex, it's me," I said flatly.

"October. Yes, of course." He turned to look at me. His expression, blank by default, grew warm with recognition.

Edie was upstairs, probably rummaging through historical fiction. I imagined her sitting cross-legged on the floor with a book in her lap, her head tilted slightly to one side, her cheek resting on her knuckles and her elbow resting on her knee. I remembered the hurt that I had seen in her eyes this morning.

Lex must have sensed what I was thinking, because his pleasant countenance fell suddenly into a frown. He moved closer to me, straining to bring his head closer to my ear. "She loves him, you know," his voice was no quieter than before, "despite what he does to her." He had never quite mastered the art of whisering. If he'd had an actual face, I would've punched it.

***

I saw the soul flare go up at dusk, a flash of green that bid farewell to the receding light. Somewhere in this metropolitan srawl, another human being had passed on. The flare itself was aesthetic in its simplicity, but I thought nothing more of it. They went up often in the city. I was on the sixth floor, staring out at a panoramic, urban landscape. The setting sun had ushered in a drove of heavy clouds, and as the last of its rays sank down beneath the horizon, the first drops of rain began to fall.

Before long, the drizzle had evolved into a downpour, and all I could see in the window was my own reflection. It was the visage of a worthless urchin, emaciated and smeared with dirt, dark hair plastered to a grimy forehead. I watched, and the image I saw transformed into a man: Edie's father. He was walking through the library holding a bottle in one hand. With the other, he began wildly pulling books down from their ancient places on the shelves. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the vision refused to go away.

"Edie!" I heard him yell. He threw a fist into the wall. The sound it made was muffled, too soft for how angry he was. He spun around, and I saw the desperation on his face. When I reopened my eyes, he was gone. In his place, but reflected in the glass, stood lex, who had developed a habit of entering rooms unnoticed. I turned around.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"October, I-" he started.

"I didn't ask you to name a month," I said quietly.

"I don't understand."

"My name is Toby!" I shouted. "Toe! Bee!" He didn't respond, but stood watching me, expressionless. I sighed. "Where's Edie?"

A pause, then, "I've been doing some reading, Toe-bee." His voice was expository. "My research and analysis give me grounds to believe that she-"

"Where is she?" I repeated, intentionally ignoring the tinge of uncertainty that I'd seen flicker across his mien. Thinking back to the book that I'd seen him holding on the fourth floor, my hands shook and my insides turned to dust. I knew where Edie was. I knew what Lex had done.

He turned his head to the side and averted his eyes. "She's better off now."

***

There were two of them, a man and a woman, standing beside each other in a courtyard beside the Library. At one time, the courtyard had held a garden, but all that remained of it now were the sun-bleached skeletons of shrubs that had once thrived in the summertime, and of trees that had blossomed in springs long gone. The man held a notepad in his left hand, his head cocked pensively to one side; the woman held a firearm in her right. In the mud at their feet lay a still figure, shrouded in black.

A raven flew down from the roof of a neighboring building. It landed silently on the bough of the nearest treem, its unforgiving gloom contrasting starkly with the white branches. The woman shifted her weight uneasily, glancing around at the crumbling edifices. "What are we going to do about this place?"

The man turned his thoughtful gaze toward the city, a jagged, lonely mass, outlined by the breaking dawn. He hung his head and sighed. "One child dies in the night; two are born in the morning."

I coughed.

The man looked up, and his eyebrows rose when he saw me watching him. He walked over. "Officer Hartman," he said, holding out his hand. "What's your name, son?"

"Toby," I said. I looked at his hand, then up at his face. He smiled.

His expression was worn, but friendly. Grey stubble landscaped his lower jaw. His eyes were pea-green, like Edie's, and they twinkled with a light that cleared the shadows from my mind. I shook his hand.

***

Lex and I watched each other in the main level corridor later that day - he standing center-aisle, me leaning up against the wall. The enforcers had left, but they would come back tomorrow to terminate him. In a week, they would bring their machines and demolish the Fields. I sank to the ground. The tears were aching to flow, but I didn't want them to, not in front of Lex. I wanted him to leave. Instead, he came to stand beside me. His steps, though awkward, were measured and deliberate - not his usual, brisk gait. I closed my eyes.

Edie. There she was, wandering alone through the streets of Eros on a frigid October evening, the season's first snowfall setting hundreds of tiny, intricate crystals gently atop her mouse-brown hair. From out of the encroaching night came an infant's piteous cry. She was taken by the sound and followed it into a secluded alley, the cobblestone roads bruising her feet, the skin rubbed raw by ice and snow.

In the shadows at the far end of the alley lay the source of the wailing - a baby boy, wrapped in a bundle of quiescent blue. With her small hands, the little girl picked him up, a tender smile forcing the darkness aside as she brushed the snowflakes off of his fragile forehead.

Lex knelt down beside me. I waited for his next move with my eyes still closed, not wanting the image of Edie to fade. Then, quite suddenly, I felt his fingertips touch my chin. I opened my eyes and his hand was caressing my cheek. Its warmth was detached and mechanical.

Nevertheless, I began to cry, my shoulders shaking with the force of a sadness that I'd been keeping for so long. The anguish was unrelenting in its siege against my heart. After I had been crying for a time, Lex spoke. His voice was impassive, but softer now - almost a whisper.

"I know," he said. "I love her, too."