After the Dust Has Settled
written by Ella Lehane
Vivian hadn't had a visitor in a long time, at least not until Andy and Aquila crash-landed outside of her father's estate. Though she's busy trying to fill her parents' shoes as host the best she can, they are both much more interested in finding out her life's secrets... secrets she might not want to know herself. (Original short-ish story)
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
8
Reads
512
Chapter 7 (Final Chapter)
Chapter 8
“It was an explosive he’d designed himself, a prototype. I remember. We were running away. The war was getting too close, and Mother was scared. She made my father promise to leave, and we did. We took everything we could carry, and we ran away. I remember crying because I left my dolls. We’d been out there for less than a day, walking, my brother arguing with father about how he should have let him join the war, and my sisters were with my mother. I knew they didn’t like having me underfoot, so I kept my distance. It was around sunset that I spotted something, a feather floating in the breeze. I ran towards it. I didn’t think they… I just didn’t think. But I heard yelling, and then the blast knocked me down, and I hit my head on something. I don’t know what. All I can remember after that is something leaning towards me, something shiny…” she trailed off. “It must have been Lysander.”
“Lysander? He’s real?”
Vivian nodded.
“Wait. Vivian. What does Lysander look like?”
“He’s a robot, sort of your height, Aquila, but thinner than most of the ones in here, black and silver colored, with a bird branded on his back.”
“MecWar,” said Aquila and Andy simultaneously. They looked at each other.
“Must have Octan’s, survived the explosion, but-” said Aquila to Andy.
“Circuitry got messed up, instead of capturing her-” she answered, matching his intensity.
“It took care of her!”
“Took her to the nearest house, hers.”
“Made her food, got her clothes.”
“Helped her forget.”
“He’ll do anything to keep her here.”
They both turned to Vivian. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’ll have time to pack,” said Andy.
They left the storage shed, and walked back to the plane. As the other two climbed in, Vivian looked at her home for the last time. She closed her eyes, breathed out, and turned to join them.
Something held her back, a metal hand gripping her wrist.
Lysander, burnt and beat up, but polished where possible, tilted his featureless head at her, seeming confused at what she was doing.
“Lysander, I have to go. I’m sorry, but it’s time.”
The grip tightened. She cried out, and Aquila climbed out of the plane, gun in hand.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have a choice. He won’t let you go. His programming wont let him.”
“Wait!” she said, and turned to face Lysander. She touched his smooth, cold face with the palm of her hand. On tiptoes, she kissed the side of his face. “Thank you,” she whispered, dropping down to her normal height and turning back to Aquila. “You can do it now.”
She closed her eyes, but still heard the gunshot. The grip on her wrist immediately slackened, and she climbed into the airplane.
She looked out of the window at her house, at Lysander’s metal body crumpled in the dust, and then turned to Andromeda and Wolfgang, smiling. “Let’s go.”
“Lysander? He’s real?”
Vivian nodded.
“Wait. Vivian. What does Lysander look like?”
“He’s a robot, sort of your height, Aquila, but thinner than most of the ones in here, black and silver colored, with a bird branded on his back.”
“MecWar,” said Aquila and Andy simultaneously. They looked at each other.
“Must have Octan’s, survived the explosion, but-” said Aquila to Andy.
“Circuitry got messed up, instead of capturing her-” she answered, matching his intensity.
“It took care of her!”
“Took her to the nearest house, hers.”
“Made her food, got her clothes.”
“Helped her forget.”
“He’ll do anything to keep her here.”
They both turned to Vivian. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’ll have time to pack,” said Andy.
They left the storage shed, and walked back to the plane. As the other two climbed in, Vivian looked at her home for the last time. She closed her eyes, breathed out, and turned to join them.
Something held her back, a metal hand gripping her wrist.
Lysander, burnt and beat up, but polished where possible, tilted his featureless head at her, seeming confused at what she was doing.
“Lysander, I have to go. I’m sorry, but it’s time.”
The grip tightened. She cried out, and Aquila climbed out of the plane, gun in hand.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have a choice. He won’t let you go. His programming wont let him.”
“Wait!” she said, and turned to face Lysander. She touched his smooth, cold face with the palm of her hand. On tiptoes, she kissed the side of his face. “Thank you,” she whispered, dropping down to her normal height and turning back to Aquila. “You can do it now.”
She closed her eyes, but still heard the gunshot. The grip on her wrist immediately slackened, and she climbed into the airplane.
She looked out of the window at her house, at Lysander’s metal body crumpled in the dust, and then turned to Andromeda and Wolfgang, smiling. “Let’s go.”
