19. Tisha

“You… do?” Tisha frowned, turning for another look back.

Ansel extracted his pistol from his hip, clipping in a cartridge. He opened the door and moved to get out of the car, one leg crunching on broken asphalt, when he paused and looked back at her.

“Stay here, Tisha.”

Like hell.

He could get mad or yell at her or whatever, but in her bones, she knew she needed to be out there for this.

Her hard rubber soles thumped on the old asphalt as she rounded the car. She tensed in preparation as the door of the sedan opened. The figure that stepped into the car’s headlights was tall and lanky, and at least by the shape of him, she didn’t spot a weapon. Just ahead, Ansel remained perfectly still, pistol ready at his side.

Tisha inched closer, glancing between the robot and the man ahead. Who the fuck was this guy?

“That’ll be enough, ANSL-5.2,” the man’s calm voice carried thick in the stuffy, humid air.

Ansel stiffened as she sidled up to him quietly.

“Your mission is complete,” the man said, the outline of his head shifting between the two of them. “Successfully.”

“His mission?” Tisha called out because Ansel seemed to be too damn frozen to do it himself. When she moved to step forward, a black arm came out to block her way.

“Ansel?” She frowned.

“The field evaluation of this model is now complete, Ms. Varda,” the man addressed her this time. “ANSL-5.2 will now be recouped for final evaluation and fine-tuning.”

“His mission was?—”

“To test my human attachment capabilities,” Ansel cut in, voice a flat monotone.

“Precisely.” She couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the smile in the man’s voice. “Which you handled…” He paused, silhouette nodding slightly as he looked Tisha up and down. It made her skin crawl. “In such a way as to surpass expectations.”

The bomb had been dropped and Tisha could feel it ticking in her chest as it all sank in. “It was all…”

“Part of the design,” Ansel—no, ANSL-5.2—finished for her.

“What about all the fucking cops you killed to protect us?” Tisha rounded on him.

“Events took a slightly unexpected turn once we changed ANSL-5.2’s primary instruction shortly before the assassination incident, I admit,” the man sighed, “but some collateral damage is to be expected.”

Tisha’s throat shriveled up as the lump inside it thickened, and her next words came dry and hoarse. “So his… its… job was, what… To see if I’d let it fuck me?”

And leave me out here in the middle of nowhere.

“That’s a crude way of describing the advanced engineering that has gone into creating a machine so nuanced that it can act as a weapon of mass destruction and an intelligence agent in a single vessel.” The man was beginning to sound impatient. “Now come, ANSL-5.2. Your priority instruction at this time is to get into the car.”

Ansel stepped forward and Tisha stepped back, the bomb ticking away by the rush of blood in her ears. “And me? What happens to me?”

The thump thump thump of rotors in the distance answered that question.

They weren’t gonna let her go. They were going to deliver her back to the cops, fucked out and on a silver platter. Tears stung, but she refused to let them spill—not in front of that man, or this… this thing. ANSL-5.2 continued approaching its maker, its shell a silhouette in the headlights. Two long strides and it was there, dwarfing the man as they faced each other.

Tisha grappled blindly for the handle of their stolen car, her other hand digging for the keypicker in her pocket. She kept gulping for air, but it only made her dizzy. Her hands grew clammy as the rotors grew louder.

It was all fake. How could he have kept up his act for so long? Pretending he was fighting them… Shit, he warned her he may not be himself. And all along she was the stupid one.

She yanked the door open, stealing a glance at the black sky, toward the incoming rotors. She was halfway into the car when she stole a final look back at the robot and its master. Just in time to watch ANSL-5.2 lift its arm, point the pistol in its hand, and fire.

The peal of the gunshot froze her like a deer in headlights. The maker’s body crumpled to the ground, and her last shred of self-control crumpled with it. Tisha’s heart was frantic in her chest. An indeterminate sound caught in her throat as she tried to figure out what the fuck to feel. She didn’t even know what the fuck just happened, her head still catching up with her eyes.

“Get in the car,” the robot instructed, giant silhouette approaching in long, smooth strides. “Now.”

When she was back in the passenger seat, Tisha folded her shaking hands in her lap to steady them and looked at the hard unyielding fingers gripping the wheel beside her.

“Are you…” Her words came out as an unsteady whisper.

The faceless void of the visor turned to face her, the familiar faint white glow pulsing underneath. “I am Ansel.”

Ansel hit the accelerator, tires squealing on asphalt as they bolted into the empty night.