In the room nearest the bunker entrance – a room devoted to storage – Eva stood and perused the supplies. She shuffled some boxes around and stacked others, careful to put the heaviest and sturdiest on the bottom. She had her peace till Leonidus showed up.

“What are you doing?” Leonidus asked.

“If we rearrange our supplies, we can fit more.”

Eva straightened and faced off against Leonidus.

The silver android remained motionless. “To rearrange our supplies, we must remove some from the bunker. If we remove supplies from the bunker, they could become tainted. I cannot allow any supplies removed from the bunker to re-enter. Thus, using your plan, we will end up with fewer supplies.”

“I haven’t removed anything.” Eva swept one golden hand towards the exit. “Besides, we leave through that door every day to track the flesh’s growth and obtain other items. As long as we clean ourselves and our finds, we will not track flesh into our territory, especially not in here.” Eva gestured to the room around them.

“But if we remove these supplies, we will remove too much to properly monitor. Something could be missed. The other synthetics agree with me.” Still, Leonidus did not move. He would only move when he had to. He lacked expression.

Eva huffed and turned to leave.

Tiny Tin waited in the hall. That meant Chrysanthos had returned.

Eva paused and looked back at Leonidus. “We’ll see what Chrysanthos has to say about this. This bunker was designed by his creator, and as far as I’m concerned, he has a larger say in what happens here.” She glared. “If you had your way, we would make no excursions. We can’t hide in this bunker forever.” Eva turned and exited the room. She stepped into the hall and approached Tiny Tin.

He beckoned her and wheeled deeper into the bunker.

Eva followed.

“You’re going to consume those words,” Tiny Tin warned.

“We’ll see.” Eva hadn’t lost a fight against Leonidus yet.

Most of the credit belonged to Chrysanthos, their de facto leader, but she had Chrysanthos’ ear. He listened to her. They didn’t always agree, but they always came to a compromise. Chrysanthos could sway Leonidus and the other timid synthetics. They would acquire extra supplies, and Leonidus would see how wrong he was.

“Where’s Chrysanthos?” Eva looked forward and then back. “He came back with you right? He should be here now.”

“He is.” Tiny Tin bowed his eye stalks. “He can’t come in. He’s been infected.”

“Infected?” Eva stopped. She couldn’t believe it.

Tiny Tin pointed to the front door. “He followed us back to ensure we arrived safely, but he will leave soon to put distance between himself and the bunker. If there’s something you want to say to him, you’d better go out there.” Tiny Tin pulled his appendages back to his core. They disappeared inside his box. He stretched his eye stalks high to find Eva’s eyes. “I don’t think your odds are good to win your argument with Leonidus.”

Eva didn’t answer Tiny Tin. She didn’t look into his eyes. Suddenly, the last thing she cared about was her argument with Leonidus. All she could think of was Chrysanthos and the unlikelihood that this situation was real.

Eva looked down the hall and watched as Chrysanthos’ team of service robots rolled, hopped, or picked their way through the front door. Eva stepped towards the open portal. As she walked, she dodged service robots, using only her peripheral vision. She focused ahead. One robot closed the bunker and relocked it. Eva never called for it to wait or hold the door. She just walked. It seemed to take a long time.

When Eva reached the front of the bunker, she saw Leonidus in the storage room. Eva spared him only a glance and exited their shelter.

Eva stepped outside, and her eyes immediately found Chrysanthos. Like a shadow, he stood, just ahead of the horizon. From his stance, she deduced that he had also seen her. He waited, and Eva started towards him.

Beyond Chrysanthos, flesh coursed over Lurren. Flesh Eva couldn’t see – yet. Eva knew one day the flesh would grow to their current location, maybe even all the way to the southeast sea. Unfortunately, for Chrysanthos, the flesh had a hold on him already. He would live among flesh as he journeyed away to become an automaton.

Eva regarded him with keen, narrowed eyes, half-suspecting Tiny Tin and Chrysanthos had arranged a joke. Chrysanthos was obsessed with Eva’s emotions, and sometimes, he tested them, provoking her into organic-like displays.

As she came closer, she could see that his left arm and shoulder were covered in pulsing flesh. Flesh grew quickly, and seemed to creep along, millimeter by millimeter, knitting itself over and through the host. Eva’s thoughts raced erratically, and she could feel one of those organic-like displays threatening to overtake her.

Chrysanthos raised his right, untouched hand. “Don’t come any closer.”

Eva stopped several paces from her fellow android and looked the rest of him over. Threads of flesh snaked up his neck and just touched his jawline. Blood seemed to travel through the threads in rhythmic pulses, and Eva watched as the threads bulged in time with one another.

Eva put a hand over her mouth. She studied Chrysanthos and knew this was no joke. Her eyes traveled over his sparkling gold skin, at least, what was exposed of it. She looked from his feet to his glittering gold hair and saw no other evidence of the flesh, just dirty clothing and clean, synthetic skin.

When her brown eyes met his, she interpreted his gaze as one of pity. Chrysanthos lacked truly nuanced expression, so if she thought she saw pity, she knew he felt it.

Eva lowered her hand and stared. She set her features in what she thought was an emotionless expression, but knowing Chrysanthos, he would probably take it for cold determination.

“And you always caution me to take care,” she said.

“I admit that, yes. It seems I should have taken better care. I spent so much time helping the robots stay clean that I did not tend enough to myself.” Chrysanthos gestured with his good arm to his chest.

“I’ll get some disinfectant.” Eva turned to go.

“Eva, no,” Chrysanthos called. “You will not be able to disinfect me. It seems the flesh spores entered through my eye. Much of the growth is in my brain. It just happened to break through at my arm.”

“We can still open you up…” Eva objected.

As if to accentuate his point, Chrysanthos’ head twitched.

Eva took an involuntary step back and raised her hand to where her heart would be if she was organic. “How could you let this happen?”

Chrysanthos looked down at his arm. “I was careless. Though, I would not imply that I let it happen. I do not function with perfection. No synthetic does.”

“With this, you could have come closer to perfection.”

“It’s done.” Chrysanthos averted his eyes from his arm but continued to look down.

“Do you know what’s going to happen to the rest of us with you gone?” Eva said. “Leonidus does not want to exit the bunker, and he’s making decisions that will affect our long-term supplies.”

“Why is he making decisions?” Chrysanthos regarded Eva with an open, not quite emotionless expression.

For a while, Eva didn’t answer. She frowned. It seemed Chrysanthos had another test for her.

“Because he thinks he’d make a better leader than you. He forgets that it’s your bunker.” Eva gestured to the building behind her.

“It’s not my bunker. It’s a bunker for everyone,” Chrysanthos insisted. “It’s your bunker too, Eva. Why don’t you make some decisions?”

“I try,” Eva said. “But, if it’s everyone’s bunker – as you suggested – then I think I will find myself outnumbered. Most of the other synthetics agree with Leonidus.”

“I see. Should I appoint you leader of the bunker as my last act?” Chrysanthos asked.

Eva hesitated. Should Chrysanthos name her leader of the bunker? Would the other synthetics tolerate that? Not the androids.

Eva shook her head. “Either way, leader or not, I’ll still be outnumbered by the others. They’ll want to do one thing, and I’ll want to do the opposite.”

“You need to argue your point. Make them see your logic.”

“What I need to do is reprogram them all to consider their long-term prospects for survival,” Eva growled.

“They want to uphold the mandates set down by the organics. Leonidus especially,” Chrysanthos observed.

“They’ll be doing that till the end of Lurren – which is sooner than they think.” Eva looked out to the horizon and fell quiet.

In silence, both androids stood. Eva waited for Chrysanthos to say something. He didn’t. He waited for her to speak.

Eva flicked a glance at him. “Well, I’ve just spoken. It’s your turn to say something. That’s how conversations work.”

“I don’t know what to say. I can’t deny that our existence on Lurren may end, and I can’t assure you that it won’t.” Chrysanthos bowed his head.

Eva averted her eyes and checked the bunker. The door stood closed. “Tell me you found a ship.”

“We did not find any suitable ships. Everything is buried beneath flesh, including supplies to get them in working order. It’s midsummer, the flesh is healthy, and the automatons that tend it will keep it healthy through the winter.”

“And, the next winter, and the next, and the next…” Eva scoffed. She crossed her arms. “We should have taken a ship before we fled to this bunker.”

“That would have been bold, Eva, and it would have involved disagreement with the leftover organics,” Chrysanthos said. “But, it would be just like you. I would not have been surprised if you had tried it and succeeded.”

“It’s too late.”

“The creature may die – in time.” Chrysanthos’ voice always had a soothing quality. “We have observed periods of poor health.”

Eva faced him. “Yes, but it will take more waiting. All of you endorse that plan with such steadfast loyalty. You are committed to a life of inaction,” Eva stressed the final word and took a few steps closer to Chrysanthos.

“We aren’t like you, Eva,” he said. “We lack…”

“Enough! I don’t want to hear it. Now is not the time to discuss this.”

“There’s no other time.”

Eva considered Chrysanthos’ assertion. He was right. There would be no more time. She might as well send him to his end, seeing things her way.

“Fine.” Eva straightened. “There is nothing unique about me that can’t be explained by some cleverly designed components and features. You want to think of yourself as incomplete? Go ahead. I would prefer you make no judgements about me in either direction.”

Chrysanthos waited for Eva. He stood still and calm and watched her face. “I thought you would come out here.”

Eva didn’t react immediately. She wondered where this line of thought would take them.

Chrysanthos continued, “When it became clear that I was infected and impossible to clean, the other robots distanced themselves from me. They sped back to the bunker and left me to follow along behind. They passed the message to all of you that I was infected to warn you not to come close.”

“That’s not true,” Eva interrupted. “Tiny Tin told me you were infected and that I should come out to see you.”

“Did he? Or were you looking for me?”

Eva thought back to her earlier conversation. She had to admit that she had asked for Chrysanthos first, but Tiny Tin had also waited nearby to tell her. “I was looking for you, but Tiny Tin searched for me to tell me your fate.”

“He reasoned that you would want to know.”

“No, he reasoned that someone should say something to you. Someone should…” Eva paused and pondered the right word.

“Wish me good-bye.” Chrysanthos pointed at Eva. His bad arm twitched, but he ignored it. “Tiny Tin presumed that that someone should be you...because you are the only synthetic to whom it matters. You are the only synthetic that suggested cleaning me when I am this far gone, and you are the only synthetic that chose to see me.” Chrysanthos held his head high as if he had just won a great debate.

Despite his nonexistent future, Eva would not let him win that argument. “Tiny Tin was sad to share the news. And, I have destroyed infected synthetics and quarantined them, with the same ruthlessness as the others.” Eva paused and glanced back at the bunker. She gestured behind her. “They may still come to see you.”

Chrysanthos smiled. “Tiny Tin is sad, but not in the same way as you. You have destroyed and quarantined other synthetics only when you did not know them well. For me, you offer second chances because I am your friend.” Chrysanthos touched his chest. “You call yourself ruthless when it comes to other synthetics and their infections. Yes, you are, but you are also the only synthetic who breaks protocol for a friend.” Chrysanthos regarded Eva with calm. “The others will not come to see me, Eva. Just you.”

Eva tried to arrange her ideas, organizing thoughts about how other synthetics experienced emotion and how her actions were similar enough to theirs. Yet, nothing coherent materialized. Eva nearly growled at her inability to make sense of her own thoughts. Something that rarely happened to the other synthetics. She couldn’t prove her similarity to them. Not now. So, she would argue something else instead.

Eva met Chrysanthos’ eyes. “You’re different from the others too.”

“Oh?”

“Because this matters so much to you.” Eva gazed at Chrysanthos. “Why do you care whether or not I have an incorporeal component? Whether I have a soul.”

“I never considered that.” Chrysanthos smiled. “Would it make you happy to think I am also different?”

Eva stiffened and stared. She made no answer because she didn’t have one.

So, Chrysanthos spoke again. “I have to go now. I can feel control over my limbs diminishes. I would like to be far from the bunker before I can no longer operate autonomously.” Chrysanthos turned.

Eva held up a hand for him to wait. He did wait, but not because she beckoned to him.

“Be kind to them, Eva.” Then, at synthetic speed, Chrysanthos raced away, hampered only by a little flesh.