“Entering Earth’s atmosphere in approximately 3.54 months,” the computer system announces. Sitting in the control room, Evelyn stares into the black abyss. She can see the entire Scutum-Centaurus Arm of the Milky Way. On the journey to Hasiera, Evelyn anxiously checked the thruster speed every hour and manually realigned the course trajectory every morning, making it difficult for her to take notice of the scenery. But for the past six and half months, Evelyn had spent much of her time staring and thinking—the forever night sky creating elaborate designs of glowing violet hues right before her eyes. At this moment, she realizes how small she really is—how insignificant she is—in comparison to the vast oasis before her. 

Staring and thinking. 

She imagines herself floating through space, without a tether to ground her, drifting away from the indestructible glass concealing the ship she has called home for far too long. 

Staring and thinking… there isn’t much else to do on a spaceship. 

But Evelyn isn’t always lonely: she has ADAM. His monotone voice breaks through her thoughts. 

“Good morning Evelyn. There is breakfast in the dining hall.” 

Evelyn mushes freeze-dried strawberries into her oatmeal while gazing out of the curved window wrapping around the entire circular spaceship. Outside, the spaceship appears to be a ginormous metal saucer. The inside has a much more aesthetic design than the metal insulation “blankets” that cover its exterior. Split into four sections, the wings are named after a galaxy discovered by NASA. Every room has the same basic layout—the centerpiece of every chamber is the same curved window. One after another, with their modern white furniture, they comprise the ship. Originally, the ship was designed to house families but it was converted into a transport mechanism for Evelyn’s mission. Sometimes Evelyn imagines each of the families decorating their room, ecstatic as they prepare for their journey. She can see the personalization of each compact room with a queen-sized bed tucked into the corner, a nightside table, a sofa couch, and a tiny closet by the door. A mom and dad hang up their clothes and perhaps a little boy nails a poster of his favorite sports team to the wall. But for now, each of the four sections has a sterile white hallway that leads to the only unique place on the spaceship: the panels with their bright flashing lights and the computer systems that map out the stars with dotted red lines. The place where the action happens. The control room. 

“ADAM, remind me how you got your name?” Evelyn asks before sliding a glob of oats into her mouth. 

“ADAM stands for Android Directional Assistance Machine,” 

Sloshing the watery consistency around in her mouth, Evelyn stares at ADAM, analyzing his features meticulously. He’s handsome: his skin is smooth, unblemished, unscathed. His eyes are the only uncanny part of his handcrafted face. The pitch-black orbs are so shiny that one can see their own reflection in them. They conceal whatever is inside his head. Evelyn’s father once told her that the eyes are the window to the soul. She remembered that every time she went on a date she’d sit across from her potential suitor and stare into their eyes, looking for a sparkle when they laughed. But the only suitor who ever pleased her father enough for him to approve of their relationship was John. John was always a conventionally good guy and Evelyn’s father adored him from the start. Still, Evelyn can’t help but feel bored with him from time to time. She tries not to be, but there was never any sparkle in his eyes. 

John moved to Hasiera with their two boys, Seth and Enzo, when Evelyn got her position as extraterrestrial expedition leader. She keeps reminding herself that her family uprooted their entire life and that her husband was willing to follow her across the galaxy. 

Evelyn hears her father’s words, “the soul,” echo in her head as she gazes at her only companion. ADAM has never laughed. 

“Huh… interesting. Do you like the name, though?”

“To like something often implies a satisfactory feeling. The name ADAM is a sufficient identification acronym, so yes, I like my name… how did you acquire your identification?” 

Evelyn is taken aback. Did he just ask me something? 

“Why do you ask?” Evelyn laughs nervously. 

“According to studies, humans respond positively to being asked about themselves in conversations.”

“Oh well, that's nice of you, I guess. My dad picked out the name. It means ‘wished for’ and my dad always said he wished on a shooting star for a little girl. I guess it’s fitting since I ended up here in space.” With that, ADAM gets up, places the oatmeal pot in the sink, and leaves the dining hall. Evelyn puts her head in her palms and heaves. So much for a conversation. 

***

“Entering Earth’s atmosphere in approximately 2.43 months,” the computer system reports as Evelyn sits on the edge of her bed, the plain white sheets covering the mattress that sits on top of an uncomfortable metal frame. She fiddles with the edge of a photo she’s looking at. All she sees are fuzzy figures of the people she once held close. 

“What are you observing, Evelyn?” ADAM asks as Evelyn jumps at the voice behind her.

She exhales, “God, ADAM, you scared me.”

“My apologies, Evelyn,” he says as he awkwardly bends, folding his knees first and then letting himself drop onto the firm mattress under him. 

“This is Katherine,” Evelyn says as she points toward a lanky blonde-haired girl. “We went to college together. We were friends,” she smiles. 

“Friend,” ADAM remarks. 

“Yeah friends. We hung out and stuff.” She stops herself, pausing for a moment. She turns her head to look into ADAM's black eyes before saying, with a hint of caution, 

“Did you ever have any friends?” 

ADAM stares straight forward at the unadorned cabin wall and Evelyn thinks, it was a stupid question anyway. 

“If my definition of a companion is correct, then yes, I have had a friend.”

Evelyn’s eyes light up. She puts a hand on his knee and looks up at his perfectly sculpted face. She shouldn’t feel this way but she does. Little butterflies flutter in her stomach and she says, “Go on.” 

“What would you like to know, Evelyn?”

“Uhm, what was his name?” ADAM turns his head and stares at Evelyn. 

“DAN.” 

“Do you miss DAN?”

“To miss is to notice the absence of someone. It often implies sadness.” 

Evelyn sighs and places the photo back on the nightstand. She knows there is no point in getting excited. She’s done it a million times: ask him personal questions only for him to give some ridiculous definition in response. She has to remind herself that: he doesn’t feel. But secretly, Evelyn thinks he does. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t still be trying to talk to the android. 

“Yes.”

“I-what.”

“DAN was my companion. We engaged in conversation and completed android training together. So he was my friend.” ADAM reaches his hand straight out and places it on Evelyn’s knee. It’s warmer than she expects. When she thought of holding him, which she doesn’t like to admit she often does, she always assumed he would be cold like metal. “And you are my friend, Evelyn.” He gets up and shuffles towards the door. Stupefied, Evelyn follows his trajectory to the door with her gaze as her mouth hangs open. “Helicon thruster 8 needs to be replaced. Dinner will be delayed,” he says as the door rattles against its hinges. 

***

“Entering Earth in approximately 2 months - beginning initial descent,” the computer echos. Evelyn is lying flat on her back under ejection pod 1 with a wrench in her hand. Next to her, ADAM lies under pod 2. The storage room is cluttered with extra space suits, spare oxygen tanks, and a variety of replacement parts. The neat, uninhabited look of all the rooms designed for way more than two doesn’t apply here. Open manuals litter the tool bench built into the right corner of the room. Evelyn didn’t think she would be fixing parts of a toilet or escape pods, but then again, she didn’t think she was going on this mission in the first place. She knows it’s an honorable thing to do—to deliver natural resources to Earth so its inhabitants can sustain themselves. There was a whole ceremony dedicated to her too, rewarding her with a medal of honor. But secretly (and somewhat selfishly), Evelyn had finally established her new life and didn’t want to go back. But she had to; she was a hero. She just didn’t feel like one. 

They’d been under the pods for about two hours now, attempting to replace the pitch stabilizer. Evelyn pushes herself out from under the metal and wipes her forehead with her t-shirt sleeve. 

“I am not cut out for this work,” she sighs. 

ADAM tightens a bolt and rolls out from under his pod. Sitting up he says, “That is understandable. You were not trained in mechanics.”

“But here I am. Covered in gunk.” 

“Due to unexpected circumstances, yes, you are here.” 

“Do you know where I am supposed to be, ADAM?” 

“Well, I can infer that-”

“GOSH, it was a rhetorical question. I am supposed to be captaining a discovery of a new moon of Hasiera or leading an exploration team to search for meteoroids.” 

Wiping away salty sweat and hot tears, she continues, “I am not supposed to be here. Supervising a cargo mission back to Earth. A year-long journey to bring some coal back to Earth! I know this coal is important, but my entire life is on Hasiera. My husband. My family. But now I’m going back to Earth. And what good has come out of it. Oh, I know. I get to spend a year of my life with some stupid emotionless android that’s only useful if you need a walking dictionary!” 

The wrench falls from her trembling hands as she backs out of the room. She covers her mouth with one hand and holds her stomach with the other. 

“Oh my God,” she murmurs. Holding her hand to her head she stammers, “I-I’m sorry ADAM. I didn’t mean that. This mission is important and you aren’t stupid. I’m just hot and tired and I haven’t slept and…” she trails off, waiting for some sort of response. 

“ADAM?”

He walks swiftly out of the room, brushing past her without saying a word. 

***

The two haven’t spoken more than a few words to each other in the past week but they still sit together at every meal and go about their tasks side by side. Without ADAM’s presence, Evelyn would be entirely alone on a spaceship millions of miles away from any other interaction. The not-talking is starting to get to her, though. She’s always been a talkative person, for as long as she can remember. Maybe that’s why she tried so hard to get ADAM to talk. But Evelyn has also been stubborn for as long as she can remember. She’s an independent woman in a field dominated by know-it-all men. Admitting to mistakes isn’t part of her agenda.

But when she looks him in the eyes at breakfast she can feel the words “I’m sorry” on the tip of her tongue. While prepping telecommunications she keeps telling herself, he doesn’t feel things. Looking for the manual for the leaking sink she reminds herself: he’s a robot, he doesn’t feel things. Adjusting the lights in the control room she tells herself: he doesn’t feel things. So why should you feel sorry? But Evelyn is sorry. Something about how ADAM silently walked out of that room. He looked hurt. She replays that image, his face, lips pursed in a tight line, and his black eyes wide open, over in her mind when she lies awake that night. Her eyelids are heavy as she keeps repeating: it’s not real. He isn’t real. It’s not real. He isn’t real. It’s an illusion. He doesn’t feel. It’s not real until she drifts into a troubled slumber. 

The next morning she wakes up, determined to apologize. Before they sit down for breakfast, Evelyn looks up at ADAM and says, “Look, I’m really sorry for what I said.” He pulls the chair from under the table, sets his food on the countertop, and sits down.

“You are incorrect.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am not emotionless, Evelyn. I care about you. And I experience the sad emotion when you are agitated.” 

Abruptly he gets back up and puts his hands around her. Wrapping her hands around his waist, Evelyn feels happy for the first time on their journey. She doesn’t care that he might have wires on the inside. This is real. She rests her head on his shoulder and for a long time they stand there in each other’s embrace in front of the stars. 

***

“Entering earth in approximately 1.23 months - final descent in 14 days,” the computer rings out. ADAM and Evelyn had spent the past month preparing for landing. Instead of spending her time staring at the black abyss outside her confinement, she stares at the black abyss right in front of her. She knows it now: he has a soul. She might not be able to see it but she can feel it. Her soul can feel his. For the first time in her life, she doesn’t hear her father's voice in her head and it feels good. She became an astronaut because that was her father’s dream. She married John because that was what her father wanted. But her father was wrong. The eyes are not the window to the soul. 

“ADAM?”

“Yes, Evelyn?” 

“What is your definition of love?” 

The two are lying on Evelyn’s bed. Often ADAM sleeps on the sofa adjacent to her bed and Evelyn drifts into a serene slumber with him by her side.

“The de-”

“ADAM don’t give me some stupid dictionary definition.” 

“Ha, Ha, Ha.”

Evelyn sits straight up and tugs on ADAM’s sleeve caressing the tight muscles of his husky build. 

“Did you just laugh?” ADAM’s lips curl into a horrible attempt at a smile. Evelyn shakes his sleeve and says, “Do it again, do it again!”

“Ha, Ha, Ha.” Evelyn flops back onto the bed, laughing hysterically. She turns her head to face him. Her nose almost touching his. 

“That was cute,” she breathes. 

Evelyn reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair. She thought it would feel like plastic but it's silky smooth. She traces her finger along his sharp jawline. Cupping his face in her hand, she looks into his eyes. They’re beautiful, just like space. Her breath is hot and she whispers,

“ADAM, can I kiss you?” His face twists into sudden confusion. 

“You may do what you like.”

“What?” She yanks her hand away from his cheek.  

“You may do what you like.”

“But do you want to?” His face twists into sudden confusion.

“I am unsure of what you mean. You may do what satisfies you. My job is to serve your needs.” Evelyn quickly moves off of the covers. 

*** 

“Entering Ear- “ the system cuts out before a siren blares. “orbit thruster malfunction in the lower deck.”

“Sh*t,” Evelyn whispers under her breath. Louder she shouts, “SH*T, ADAM,” as she runs down one of the white halls, grasping the wall as she turns the corner in a rush. Barging into ADAM’s room, she sees he is already on the move. Back in the control room, Evelyn commands the computer, “pull up a diagnostic of the thruster malfunction,” while ADAM runs the manual calculations. 

“How bad is it looking, ADAM?”

“As long as we don’t lose another thruster, the ship should be able to self-adjust by shifting the power from the reserve to the thruster.”

“Got it.” Evelyn instructs the automated system, “reroute the power from the reserve to the orbit thruster in the lower deck.” The computer responds, “Manual confirmation needed due to the calculated risk of potential damage to thruster in the upper deck from rerouting preparation,”

“ADAM… If we do this, we could lose another thruster and our whole plan could fail.”

“According to my calculations, if we do not reroute the power, our trajectory will shift by 8.456% with a 1.34 margin due to a lack of thermal power in the lower right engine. This will—”

“ADAM, simple words! I’m a captain, not a mathematician!”

“The ship will go off course significantly and potentially enter Earth’s orbit from the southern pole, generating high wind speeds and low chance of ship survival.” Evelyn pauses a moment, considering her options. She knows that ADAM’s math is right but maybe her human brain can’t willingly give confirmation to her potential death sentence. 

“You must confirm to begin initiation, Evelyn,” ADAM says matter of factly. Like it's a simple decision. 

“I don’t know ADAM, it's a big risk.”

“Are you doubting my calculations, Evelyn?”

“No, it's just…”

“I understand your concern. You are experiencing an involuntary self-defense mechanism as many humans do. But you must initiate the reaction. Or I will.” 

Shocked by ADAM’s adamance, Evelyn states, “Mission Leader, Evelyn Leviticus, confirming power shift now.”

A thick, heavy silence fills the room as the internal computer system silently makes the adjustments in the lower deck. Evelyn can hear her heart thumping in her chest and apparently so can ADAM because he says, “your heart rate has increased by 4% in the past minute, which can impede your ability to make decisions.” Evelyn takes a deep breath and sarcastically huffs, “thanks ADAM,” before they return to an uneasy silence. The dreaded noise of sirens blaring once more cuts through the silence. 

*** 

Evelyn steps into the escape pod and waits for ADAM to step into the next one. 

“Come on, ADAM, we have to go!” ADAM just stands outside of Evelyn’s escape pod, peering at her from the glass. 

From inside Evelyn yells, “We can initiate the escape pods from inside. Get into the other pod!” 

“It is my duty to ensure your safety,” ADAM replies. 

“Okay ADAM, like I said, we can just initiate the escape pods from the inside. What are you waiting for?” 

“But it is also my duty to ensure that this mission is successful. I was tasked with getting the necessary fuel supply back to Earth.” 

“What are you talking about? Earlier you said that the ship would crash if we lost another thruster and we did. Get in the d*mn pod!” 

“I am sorry, Evelyn.” 

“That time. You told me I was wrong. You told me that you cared about me. Well if you do, if you aren’t emotionless, get in that pod! Now!”

“My obligation is to this mission.” 

She begins to cry and reaches for the door handle but ADAM hits the manual lock button from the outside. 

She pounds on the door relentlessly, shouting, “You as*hole!” But ADAM just stands there, watching her, while his hand hovers over the launch button. 

Evelyn pleads, “ADAM. Open the door for one minute. And then I’ll go. Please.” The mechanical door slides open and Evelyn instantly steps out. She looks up at him, determined. Throwing caution to the wind, putting self-doubt on the backburner, she kisses him, slamming her lips onto his. He kisses her back, returning the same passion. Built-up desire and months of tension between the two makes Evelyn grasp ADAM’s face harder, pulling him close. His hands clutch her waist, pulling her in until they are entangled in each other’s embrace. ADAM settles his head on the nape of Evelyn’s neck. The fiery passion dwindles as their last moment comes near. Finally pulling back, Evelyn looks into ADAM’s pitch-black eyes. 

He whispers, “I am not emotionless, Evelyn. But there is no logistical reason for me to join you. Unfortunat-,” Adam stops himself and a tear trickles down his metallic face. She reaches up and brushes away the teardrop. He continues, “Unfortunately, I am doomed to be practical. And both you and I know that whatever you may imagine, whatever I have imagined, cannot be a reality.” 

“Please ADAM. You don’t have to do this,” Evelyn begs despite knowing her efforts are futile. ADAM gently guides her back into the escape pod and slides the glass shut.

Resting his hand on the glass he says, “Goodbye, Evelyn.”

“Goodbye, ADAM.”  

***

The slow rumbling fills the eerie silence as Evelyn drifts away from her companion. She watches as ADAM becomes smaller and smaller until the ship is nothing more than a speck in space. Evelyn collapses onto the floor, clutching her knees like a baby. Finally alone, with no one to comfort her, she cradles herself, rocking back and forth. Raw sobs rack her body and she shudders on the cool metal floor. Gasping and gulping for air, she manages to calm herself down. She inhales the burning smell of the engines through her nostrils. Betrayal. That is what she feels. ADAM chose the mission over her. But did he even have a choice? Can she be mad at him for the decision he made if he didn’t really choose it? But before she can contemplate an answer, a terrifying realization dawns on her. She’s still on a trajectory to Earth, and would soon be sent back to Hasiera, where her husband and her children would be awaiting her arrival. But she just kissed another man—or robot? 

***

Evelyn landed on Earth a month after she escaped her failing ship. A week later, she was sprawled across the white sheets of her hotel bed, much softer than the ship’s mattresses but somehow even harder for Evelyn to sleep in. Restless, Evelyn was watching the news, as she had every night. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the sparkling diamond on her wedding ring rested on the bare dresser, awaiting its fate. At 1:30 am, broadcasters around the world reported that the ship meant to supply Earth with the necessary fuel to sustain itself for ten years, came hurtling towards the Southern pole and crashed. ADAM was right: they would never really be able to be together because Evelyn was a coward. The entire time she spent with ADAM, was spent fighting her instincts. Only when the end was near, did she kiss him. But now looking at the satellite image of a smoking ship, Evelyn knew the wild truth. 

She had loved ADAM—and she still loved him. Even though ADAM was an android who recited definitions and thought he was making the right decision by staying on that ship, he loved her too.