THE LAST BORN

S E V E N

ANA

"Your job starts tomorrow."

I jump as I hear the voice, I turn around and see Helen with her hands on her hips looking down at me, sitting on the floor gently caressing the small plants on the lower shelf.

Helen watches me as I squirm on the spot, not sure how to tell her being with these plants makes me... relax.

"Fine, you can stay. But if you kill any of them I will—" Her voice stops suddenly and she clears her throat too fast with too much force, "I will never hurt you, physically or mentally, I might be an awfully straightforward person, but I will never have any intention to hurt you in any way," She says.

She looks to the left and right, looking uncomfortable. "You can stay here, just... don't kill the plants," I watch as her legs carry her farther and farther. I'm not sure what made her say what she said, but I'm glad knowing that she has no ill intention towards me.

"What are you doing here?"

Again I jumped as I heard the deep rich voice. I turn to see to my left and find him looking down at me, but unlike Helen, there is only coldness and void of emotion in his eye.

My heart picks up its speed as he keeps looking at me, making me nervous by his presence.

"Answer." He demands.

The cards I have, have only limited words and none of them can answer his question. So I gather some dirt from the floor and use it as my paper, with my forefinger, I trace the letters my mother insisted us to learn as a way to always remember our origin.

Relaxing.

The spot where I sit is quite dim, but I know he can read it nonetheless. His eyebrows frown as he looks at the word I put on the dirt. The way he is looking at my writing makes me self-conscious about my spelling. I look down and make sure I put the correct letters, at the correct places.

"Where did you learn to write in the alphabet?" He asks again, in a much lower voice without tearing his gaze from my writing.

I wipe the dirt to start over.

Mother.

His eyes snap at me and I feel fear in instant. It's just that there is no way for me to know what is he thinking, or feeling because he always seems to be emotionless, but even with no evidence of anger in his face, something in him always keeps me on my toes. For now, something about him tells me he isn't happy with my answer.

"Your mother is a human?" He asks again, this time almost whispering.

I nod.

"Just like the rest of the people in this ship?"

I nod again.

"What is her name?"

Katherine.

"And where is she now?"

Deceased.

The nerve on his jaw is visibly ticking. Oh, I don't need any sign to be sure that our short conversation is not to his liking. I look down and wipe the dirt, trying to find something to do so I don't have to look at him. He stands there for a few moments just quietly watching me before he speaks again.

"Come, people are expecting to see you,"

He doesn't leave any room for me to decline, and I don't have it in me to defy him, so slowly I stand up and let him follow me out of the garden. I can feel his stare on the back of my head.

Mindlessly, I'm reaching to my side trying to find comfort from the greens around me, but before my skin can touch the spiky leaves, a hand grabs my wrist to stop me.

I stop abruptly and look back in shock. His hand is firm around my wrist and I can feel his warmth seeping through my skin. For a moment we just stare at each other, still trying our best to wrap our mind, that our skin is touching.

"Stinging nettle," He says dropping my wrist. "Don't touch them," He says firmly.

I look at the plant and back at him, then I nod.

Why would a person who ordered me to be kept in a cell care if I get stung by a plant?

***

Malcolm hates her.

He watches her from behind, walking regally in front of him. The way she stands tall with her shoulders back, the gentle sway of her hips, which is covered by the thing that molded perfectly onto her body. Something about the way she moves is just effortless.

Whenever she comes into the room, she fills it with herself. Under no circumstance can he, or anybody else miss her, or unseen her. The simplest thing she does, like sitting down, is a force to reckon with. The aura of her soul flowed out of every pore of her skin and seeped into everybody's mind. Thanks to most of his artificial organs, she doesn't affect him as badly as others.

Things are tense in the ship, his own people are calling for justice. More and more letters are coming asking him to be brought to the court. Of course, there is no real court here, but then the people can vote on how to punish a criminal.

And that's how his people see him; a criminal.

New year's eve celebration is highly anticipated this time because everyone is excited to make amends with her. Tonight's celebration is thrown for her. The preparation was quick and done with the best care. His people have been watching her as she eats, and cooked her favorite food for tonight's feast. They have paid attention to what she likes, apparently, she likes looking at the stars outside, she likes watching people playing sports from afar, and she likes small children. So the people had arranged for today's activities according to her liking. There will be children, football, basketball, even Borjus, a popular lasso game in most galaxies using a rope from a tail of a big mammal.

His hand fisted from the contact he made earlier. He couldn't care less if she fell face first into the poisonous plant, but his people will get more upset with him, so he had to stop her.

He had thought that her skin will feel the same as his, but he was wrong. The part where her skin is covered feels like a hard surface covered with fabric, and the skin, which isn't covered feels like suede. Her hand was cold, telling him whatever cover she has, it protected her not from the temperature.

Now, for the fact that she indeed has human blood in her. Malcolm grinds his molars, more reason for his people to hate him.