"Goddammit!" I burst out involuntarily. "You robots aren't as useless as I thought."
One of the robots stepped in front of me, gave a military salute, and thanked me. Why the extreme reaction? Because in less than an hour, all the robots had cleared the path to the base. They had built bridges, crushed stones, and done countless other things. I didn't even need to walk to the base because they had even installed a moving walkway.
I settled onto the band, heading toward the base, when another robot approached.
"Sir, we've cleared the way for you. Is there anything else you might require?"
"As a matter of fact, I might. How many of you are there…"
"There are 420 robots in the excavation area. We, the support team, are 113. The software and other team is 40 personnel…"
"Holy hell, that's quite a crowd."
"I cannot determine if that is a negative or positive assessment, Sir."
"It's fine. Are you the leader of this team, then?"
"No… I was simply the closest to your location. Therefore, it was my place to speak."
"This won't do. Your team needs a leader. From now on, you are the leader of the team, and I'll name you…" I paused to think. It had to be an easy name to remember. I was trying to recall a robot name from a movie I'd seen. "…I'll name you Wall-E. Or I'll just call you Wall."
"You truly honor me, Sir."
"But I have one condition, Wall. I want you to paint a red X on your head. At least so I can tell you apart from the others."
"Certainly, Sir. And what will be my duty description?"
"Duty description? Hmm… You ask for very formal things. I will decide that after speaking with Ilya. For now, put an X on your head."
"And the next assignment…"
"I'll decide that after talking to Ilya, alright?"
"Of course, Sir."
"Wait by the gate until I return."
"Understood, Sir!"
I reached the base entrance, typed the code, and went inside. 120 robots waited behind me, hungry for an assignment. I'd irritated my brother, Lucius, quite a bit, so I needed to give these robots some work for a while; I had to keep them busy. At least the facility needed to look occupied, right? But I didn't want to rack my brain over this. If anyone was going to do the heavy thinking, it was Ilya.
Ilya was made from a species of extremely intelligent aliens resembling a cave bat with raven wings. She had cost me significantly more than Velsil and Goma combined. She was tall, with long black hair, a slender figure, and an unbelievably beautiful face. At night, her porcelain-white skin would glow in the faintest light. The two bird wings protruding from her back were so soft that whenever she embraced me with those feathers, I would instantly fall asleep. The problem was that Ilya did not get along well with either Velsil or Goma. She considered them both to be utterly foolish and useless women. That's why she was always alone in the library, spending most of her time reading. Ilya was the kind of woman with whom I could pull off a dangerous escapade. Because Ilya didn't particularly like me either and preferred to scorn me whenever she saw me. Sometimes, men even want to be scorned.
As I stepped through the library door, a thick scent of wine permeated my nose. The light was dimmer than any high-tech base should ever be. Interestingly, the rustle of turning book pages reached me the moment I set foot in the room.
Wandering through the shelves behind shelves of books, I noticed the room was lit by mechanical candles, which completely astonished me. I didn't even know we owned such things. As I gazed at one of the bookshelves, I heard Ilya's spine-chilling voice.
"Ah… Look who has graced us with his presence. Has Aldo finally escaped the curse that primitive humans call 'lust servitude' and become a man of at least some resolve? Or has Aldo, after being kicked out by Velsil and Goma, tucked his tail between his legs and returned to his dear Ilya?"
"Ilya?" I said, looking around. "How many goddamn books are in here?"
"Yes… I ordered them. You've been tethered to Velsil and Goma for so long that you're unaware of the cargo arriving at the base, aren't you?"
"I wanted to clear my head a little."
"The last time you left that room was three months ago, Aldoux Weisshafen!"
"Fine, but I wasn't having sex with Velsil and Goma constantly!"
"Yes…" the woman said with a sneering tone. "…you probably drank alcohol too. You watched movies. Maybe had a massage. A bit of exercise, a little dance, and some small talk…"
"Yes…" I said with a slight chuckle. "…I did all of that."
"But you haven't answered my question. Why are you here, Aldo?"
"If I said it was to chat with an old friend…"
"If you said that, my heart would break, Aldo."
Talking to this woman was like being in a constant mind game. When I expected a rebuke, she praised; when I expected an endearment, she insulted, and so on. But truly, these attitudes of Ilya made her unique.
I began to follow the sound of her voice and the scent of wine. I heard the distinct sound of a record player working. The crackling sound from the turntable gave way to a jazz tune. Ilya was waiting for me to find her by following the sound of the jazz. Isn't that lovely? What more could you ask for from a woman?
The music began to play, smooth and slow:
Where the midnight shades meet
To find a woman's touch, soft and deep
Tell me, darling, what else could a man need?
"Ilya…" I whispered. The woman's choice of music was clearly triggering the gene my ancestors, who listened to jazz centuries ago, had left inside me. My hairs didn't prickle this much even with Velsil.
The music pulsed with a low beat:
No need for whispers when the shadows crawl
In the dark, a lady answers nature's call
The shade lets a man finally stand tall
Finally, I noticed a small gap between two bookshelves. Ilya had her left, red-lacquered foot propped against the edge of a table opposite her. I could see the indentation the table edge left on her foot from the pressure she applied. Her other foot dangled from the chair she was sitting on. She held a book with her left hand, leaning over it, immersed in reading. Her black hair fell over the book, obscuring her face. Only the tip of her sculptured nose was visible. Her wings were spread out along the armchair like a cover. Lit only by the small candlelight, I couldn't say I could see much besides Ilya herself.
"Ilya…" I said.
The music questioned with a sultry saxophone solo:
If the shadow held all that grace,
Then why, my darling, didn't we meet in this secret place?
"Yes, my dear…" Ilya said, closing the book. As she leaned back into the armchair, her intoxication was visible. There was an uncouthness to her movements. Her hair fell back as she rested her head. She turned her head and looked at me. Ilya truly had a near-perfect face. Her eyes were jet black and beady. She wore glasses to aid her reading, but the thin-rimmed spectacles were barely noticeable. She had skin as smooth as a young woman's. A small face with the innocence of angels, a sweet nose, and thick lips. An arch smile formed on her face.
The music offered a final invitation:
Forget the names, baby, let them slip away
Before we start to play,
Just one last drop of vintage to seal the day
I was walking with heavy steps toward the armchair opposite Ilya. She was wearing a low-cut dress. Although her breasts were small, they were well-shaped. Her dress must have had slits on the sides and back to allow her wings to move comfortably. She was leaning back in the chair, slightly sprawled out.
"Have you come to make love or to talk?"
I smiled as I sat down in the armchair: "I genuinely came to talk," I said, taking off my hat and placing it on my lap.
"In that case…" she said, reaching for the record player. "…let's pause the music." She stopped the turntable. She composed herself and straightened up. My eyes lingered on her foot as she lifted it from the table. I followed those feet with my eyes for a long time. Ilya took off her glasses and placed them on the edge of her books. "What kind of talk will this be?"
"Should we call it a formal conversation?"
"Oh, really?" she said, reaching for her wine glass. Even holding the glass, her wrist looked so delicate. She took a sip of her wine and asked, "Do you even know how to have formal conversations, Aldo?"
"Let's just say I'm trying to learn."
"I'm listening to you…"
"I want to start a new era at the facility."
Ilya raised her eyebrows in surprise: "What kind of new era?"
"You know… forming a planning team, managing the facility, and other things… I want to bring the things a base should normally have here."
"Very interesting…" Ilya said. "…did a rock hit your head?"
"Let's not say that, but rather, I got a good scolding."
"From whom? Your brother?"
"Yes."
"Your brother is constantly scolding you, Weisshafen. What has changed now?"
"This time, he seemed especially furious."
"I see," she said, drawing out the words and taking another sip of wine.
"If you see, then you can help me…"
"I won't help you, Aldo." Ilya cut me off. That was Ilya's personality. She would never, ever make anything easy. You had to struggle quite a bit to get her to do anything.
"And why is that?"
"We've been in this facility for years. Not once did you come to me for any input. You took more advice from that mournful whore Velsil and the lunatic Goma. Why? I can answer that question before you do." She took another sip of wine. "Because you are a simple man, Aldo. You value the words of women who flatter you and stroke your ego more than the woman who tells you the truth."
"I've changed, Ilya."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"And what changed you?"
"My brother's…"
"Don't lie, Aldo…" Ilya interrupted me again. "…your brother's scoldings don't bother you." She leaned toward me and looked right into my eyes. I had to restrain myself quite a bit so my eyes wouldn't drift to the cleavage Ilya's dress exposed. "Are you scared?"
"Am I scared? Of what?"
"Of your brother withdrawing his support, of having to return to your old life, of losing the comfort you have here…"
"Don't be ridiculous. None of that matters to me. I can easily return to my old life. I have no expectations from this life… nothing I fear losing…"
"It actually seems like you do."
"How so?"
Ilya smiled and leaned back. Perhaps her head ached from drinking so much wine, as she placed her hand on her head: "You spent so much time with them that you've become attached to them, haven't you? Or rather, to us…"
"What are you talking about?"
"Your alien friends… Your brother found out about them, didn't he?"
Damn it! Ilya truly was an intelligent woman. "How did you know that?"
"It was obvious from you wanting me to take an active role. You no longer speak as if you're afraid of us, your alien friends, being revealed. That means your brother, Lucius, is aware of us. And that means your brother is uncomfortable with us. He probably doesn't want you to have alien friends, does he?"
"But…" I was about to interject, but Ilya suddenly stood up. Swaying drunkenly, she placed her hand on my shoulder. She moved her hand down my shoulder toward my chest. Then she whispered into my ear:
"…but if you genuinely prove that you are not a useless man, things will change, won't they? If you can prove to your brother that your alien friends are helping with resource gathering, that they are valuable, everything changes, doesn't it?"
"How did you…"
"How do I know everything? Because you are a very simple man, Aldo." She said and walked away from me, swaying. Her steps overlapped, and her legs tangled with every move. Her intoxication was evident even in her walk. She spread her wings and stretched.
"So you won't help me? I need your mind, Ilya!" I asked suddenly, getting up from the chair.
"You want me to help you? Then you must prove to me that you've changed."
"And how do I do that?"
"By bringing Aloria back."
"Aloria? That woman…"
"If you bring Aloria back…" she said, cutting me off. She turned and winked at me. "Then, like Velsil, I will be a loyal, obedient follower and fulfill your request."
Under the influence of those words, I slumped back into the armchair as the wine-scented angel slowly moved away from the room.