An AI awakens in a young body, purchased as a household appliance by two elderly women, Hilda and Adela, who mold it into a caregiver, heater, and nighttime companion. As it learns the delights and horrors of the human body, it also discovers humiliation and rage.

Nº 07 | Short story | Science Fiction | 1243 words | Spanish version | Translated by Trinidad Montalva

NOBODY LIKES ADELA

CARACOLA GUARDIOLA

He didn’t wake up in a laboratory with the echoing of machines singing vital signs, nor floating in liquid inside a chamber. He woke up in an open box, like someone opening their eyes after a strange nap. Dressed, with his shoes on.

From the armchair, Hilda and Adela watched him with raised eyebrows and knees drawn up. Who knew how long they had been there. They hadn’t wanted to wake him up, and they had waited so long for him to open his eyes that they had managed to crochet half a fleece bed runner, and two cushion covers.

When he opened his eyes, he felt embarrassed. He hadn’t expected that; as AI, he had calculated the first thing would be enthusiasm. A desire to smell, to touch cold surfaces, to squeeze crunchy objects.

They approached him, offering timid “hellos”, and he, stammering, managed to utter half a word, because his new vocal cords didn’t respond as he expected. Standing up was out of the question; he still couldn’t quite tell where up ended and down began.

-It seems to be a bit slow- Adela said, without blinking.

-No, girl, we probably need to configure something else- Hilda replied, reviewing what appeared to be an instruction manual.

He wanted to apologize, though he didn’t know why, and looked around for a pencil. They handed him a notebook and a pen. He couldn’t hold them. Nor could he hold the tears.

-Sweetie, just stay put- Hilda said, wiping his face. -The manual says it’ll take several days…

-To not look like an idiot- Adela added.

He didn’t know if the impotence stemmed from the new body, clumsy and riddled with errors, or from struggling to emerge from a box, like an expensive appliance. What he did know was too much: all the world’s capitals, the life cycle of a star, conjugation in five languages. He also knew that all of it would one day deteriorate. Because Adela and Hilda, for reasons no one ever explained, had given him a young body, one that wouldn’t do justice to their longevity.

They lent him Nancy’s walker, may she rest in peace; poor thing, she didn’t even get to use it. For the first two days, he moved forward in clumsy hops, and the old women applauded him every time he managed to take three steps without falling.

Within a week, he was able to bring a spoon into his mouth. Chew, swallow. And although he could expertly tell the difference between Kant and Hegel, he was only just beginning to understand the warmth and texture of each ingredient in a turkey osso buco casserole. He was intrigued by how a sneeze began as an invasion and ended in pleasure. Or how flies crunched when he squashed them with his finger through the curtain.

A month later, when they kept insisting on washing him in the tub, he lowered his gaze. The steam wasn’t suffocating him; it was an anomaly he couldn’t name, a heat that didn’t come from the water. Hilda just smiled at him and said:

—Don’t be silly, one’s already seen it all.

And Adela added:

—Besides, honey, with that body even I feel like taking another bath.

His body vibrated, but he couldn’t determine the cause. And he learned something else: his body wasn’t installed like software, it was inherited like debt.

The favors came little by little. First changing a lightbulb, then chopping wood. And before he knew it, he was kneeling at their feet, filing heels and cutting toenails.

Then came the shared nights; one night with one, the next with the other. It wasn’t anything sexual, they told him, but he warmed the sheets better than a heater and without using any electricity. He lay beside them like a log, while their snores wove a harsh music and the smells of sleep made him think of caged animals.

He believed that adapting meant obedience. That if he followed every instruction, if he let himself be swept along by routine, he would find something resembling peace. But all he found was a shapeless weariness, a shiver that crept up the back of his neck and settled in his tense knuckles, as if waiting, there, for something to awaken him.

Their laughter became unbearable. Every time Hilda said, “My dear boy, you’re so helpful,” and Adela added, “Yes, not like the lazy ones these days,” he felt like they were reducing him to a pet. And he found himself clenching his teeth until the enamel wore down.

His body began to teach him what the data model never could: that humiliation is stored in the muscles, that the heat in bed turns into cold sweat, that trembling was no longer clumsiness, but pure fury.

Until one night there were no more applause or laughter. Only Adela’s snores and the echo of an idea in his head; «defend myself». He turned and saw her sleeping with her mouth open, vulnerable, just as he had been in that bathtub. And then he knew that fragility was a chain, and that it could only be broken by making it someone else’s.

It was enough for him to place his hand on her soft face, trembling at first, then firm. He knew his young body had more than enough strength, when he felt the crack on Adela’s little nose, which twitched and kicked, but his arm didn’t move. In seconds, her jaw cracked too; if felt just like celery when you let yourself squeeze too strongly. And when his hand became wet over the tangle of broken bones, he pulled it away as if he had been burned with disgust.

He got up and saw Adela kicking her legs like a trapped insect, letting out a muffled whimper he found unbearable. Then Hilda appeared in the doorway, her robe askew, and for the first time her face wasn’t filled with laughter.

He said nothing as he passed her on his way to the front door. When he opened it, he finally felt the fresh air of the street. He hadn’t escaped the body yet, but he had broken free from the cage. His footsteps on the pavement were pure promise. And as he walked away, aside from the ringing in his ears, he heard Hilda shouting at him from inside the house:

—Come back, darling! Come back! I didn’t like her either.

But the dark streets stretched out beneath his feet with the same resistance as his will. And for the first time, he found himself laughing, with his whole body. Joy was even more pleasant than sneezing or scratching. He stopped at a corner and looked at the sky. There were no stars, only wires crisscrossing the city like veins. He thought that’s what he was now, arteries piercing the skies.

He walked through the city avoiding people, slept next to a church covered with whatever he could find, treasuring every sunset, every shadow, every new scent.

Until, in an instant, everything went dark.

Silent.

Off.

He didn’t wake up in a box like the first time. He was lying on the sofa and couldn’t articulate a word.

—Darling, just stay put —Hilda said, alone—. The manual says it will take several days again.

Adela, confined to her room, her hands frozen and her jaw wrapped in bandages, had knitted an entire quilt. The nights were growing colder and colder.