Chapter 16
IT WAS BRIGHT AND SUNNY. A fine ram had been falling all morning, and now it had not long cleared up. Anna tore along the rain-slicked streets, her boot heels skidding on the muddied stones, racing through the broad avenues and down the grimy alleys of Moscow, in and out of crowds, around corners, past posters bearing the formidable non-face of her husband. It was not long before she heard the clatter of metal footsteps close behind her. Android Karenina Class IX, her pursuer, her shadow, similarly dressed, of similar shape and size—and constructed, she now knew, of the same materials that hid within her own being. She herself, hot on her own heels.
How can I do what she bids me? Anna asked herself. To slay my own husband, with my own hands, in cold blood—no matter what kind of monster he is or may become! I have done many selfish things, and yes, I have been crueler than I meant to be, but I am not a murderer!
And yet, she thought with bitterness and spiraling confusion, if what Android Karenina says is true—and already, in a dark corner of her heart, she had admitted to herself that it was, it must be true—then I am not even a person at all!
The iron roofs, the flags of the roads, the flints of the pavements, the wheels and leather, the brass and the tinplate of the carriages—all glistened brightly in the May sunshine as she ran past them, Android Karenina behind her in determined, mechanical pursuit. It was three o’clock, and the very liveliest time in the streets.
Anna ran up alongside a passing carriage, and with a burst of strength pulled herself onto the running board. Turning her head, she beheld the figure of Android Karenina, framed in the doorway of a grocery shop, growing smaller behind her in the distance. Anna exhaled, pushed her way into the window of the empty carriage, and threw herself in a seat. With a pang of pained longing, Anna thought of Android Karenina, thought of the odd sensation she had had long harbored, of feeling more connected somehow to her Class III companion than others felt to theirs. And no wonder! Both of us machines!
As she sat in a corner of the comfortable carriage, which hardly swayed on its supple springs, while the horses trotted swiftly, in the midst of the unceasing rattle of wheels and the changing impressions in the pure air, Anna ran over the events of the last days, tried in her feverish mind to arrange the pieces of the world into something making sense. The one thing she knew was that, despite everything, despite what she now knew of the true nature of her being, she yet loved Alexei Kirillovich.
I entreat him to forgive me. I have given in to him. I have owned myself in fault. What for? Can’t I live without him? And leaving unanswered the question, she fell to reading the signs on the shops. “Office and Warehouse. Dental Surgeon. Filippov, Bun Shop. They say they send their dough to Petersburg. The Moscow water is so good for it. Ah, the springs at Mitishtchen, and the pancakes!”
And she remembered how, long, long ago, when she was a girl of seventeen, she had gone with her aunt to Troitsa. “Riding, too. Was that really me, with red hands? That was before, before this thing happened to me, when I was still a creature of flesh and spirit, not an android with a mind of spinning metal! How much that seemed to me then splendid and out of reach has become worthless, while what I had then has gone out of my reach forever! Could I ever have believed then that I could come to such humiliation?”
Anna peeked up from the rear seat, in time to see Android Karenina run out from a side alley and plant herself in front of the carriage, her veil flown back and her eyebank flashing.
“A Class Three!” the coachman screamed, as Android Karenina pivoted on her back foot, turned one shoulder toward the carriage, and leaned forward into the oncoming vehicle, letting the horses pass on either side of her and the trap smash into her body. At impact, the coachman flew from his seat and landed on the street, while the horses bucked and whinnied. Android Karenina climbed calmly and deliberately into the carriage and cornered Anna in one side of the seat.
“You are blessed, Android Karenina Twelve,” the beloved-companion intoned in that strong and loving voice. “So few people have a purpose in life, but unto you a purpose has been given.”
Anna sank back into the seat, calculating her odds of out-muscling her tormentor and slipping through the opposite window of the coach. I am, after all, she thought bitterly, the more advanced model. But Anna saw no escape.
“A simple mission, so easy to discharge. Accept your destiny, Anna. Accept what you are.”
Android Karenina grasped her by the midsection and began to drag her trembling body from the seat of the carriage. Anna saw over her shoulder, through the opposite window of the carriage, two girls in animated conversation. She wondered what they could be smiling about. Love, most likely. They don’t know how dreary it is, how low. . . . The boulevard and the children. Three boys running, playing at horses. Seryozha! And I’m losing everything and not getting him back. I will go and kill him . . . what point to resist? Yes, I will do it. . . . Yes, I’m losing everything. . . . These horses, this carriage—how loathsome I am to myself in this carriage. . . . I won’t see them again. . . .
“You! Robot! Off of that woman!”
Anna heard the hollering voices, felt the carriage rock with laser fire, before it was clear to her what was happening. A troop of Toy Soldiers had surrounded the carriage, and now they were pulling Android Karenina off of her. Standing on the street was the terrified carriage driver, gesticulating wildly; the children screamed; the horses bucked; all was confusion.
Her mind in a fog, Anna tumbled out of the carriage, slipped past the huddle of soldiers around Android Karenina, and staggered alone down the street.