The rain was getting heavier, but robotess didn't pay attention to it - her temperature maintenance system successfully coped with any bad weather. She felt cozy and warm under the thick fabric of her raincoat, despite the noise of the rain deafening the city. But suddenly, when she was already approaching the entrance, a man jumped out from around the corner of the house. Delia Asia Vieira shuddered and froze, instinctively tensing up, ready for possible danger.
The stranger seemed to appear out of nowhere, like a shadow falling out of the darkness. He wore a long black cloak that reached to his feet and a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his face. Under the cloak, only his legs and part of his face were visible, barely visible in the light of the lantern. He ran so quickly and easily that for a moment it seemed as if he had no legs at all, just one solid dark spot sliding along the ground.
They almost collided at the very entrance to her building. Delia Asia Vieira stopped and tensed up even more, preparing to defend herself, but the stranger suddenly slowed down and stopped in front of her. A slight smile flashed across his face, partially hidden by his hat.
"I've been waiting for you!" he said, and his voice, oddly enough, sounded soft and warm, despite the noise of the rain around him.
Delia Asia Vieira froze, trying to understand what it meant and who was standing in front of her. The man extended his hand, as if inviting her to shake it, but the robotess only looked at him warily. She did not offer her hand, feeling awkward and vaguely uneasy, but the man did not retreat.
"Sorry for the surprise," he said, clearly noticing her confusion. "My name is Richard." His voice was more urgent this time, as if he wanted to get down to business. "You're here to see me, aren't you?"
Delia Asia Vieira blinked, trying to process his words. She had come here to meet Noah, but this Richard was obviously waiting for her. How was that possible?
"I don't..." she began, but was interrupted by a sharp gust of wind, causing them both to pull their heads into their shoulders from the cold. The man, without waiting for an answer, carefully took her by the elbow, leading her to the front door.
"Let's go inside and we'll talk there," he added, casting a quick glance around, as if afraid of something in the surrounding darkness.
Delia Asia Vieira felt his fingers, long and cold, squeeze her hand. They were shaking, but she couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from some inner turmoil. They entered the entrance, and the man confidently took a bunch of keys from his pocket, opening the door as if he lived there. Delia Asia Vieira didn't have time to say anything, as they were already in a damp and dark hallway that smelled of mold and old plaster.
"Let's go upstairs," Richard waved his hand towards the stairs leading to the top floor. "We're safe here."
She didn't understand what was happening, but her internal compass of logic told her that there was no turning back. Stepping carefully on the slippery steps, Delia Asia Vieira followed him, tensely listening to every sound in the silence of the entrance. With each passing second, her anxiety grew, but she could no longer refuse and leave.
At the top, Richard stopped again, took off his hat, and raised his head so that his face was only a few centimeters from hers.
"Well then," he said quietly, his eyes glittering in the dim light from the overhead bulb. "Welcome."
Delia Asia Vieira walked into the dark, half-empty room when Richard opened the door for her. She was greeted by old walls peeling from dampness and a dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting uneven shadows on the furniture. The air was filled with the faint smell of mold and old dust.
"Come in, sit down," Richard invited her, pointing to a wooden stool near the table.
Delia Asia Vieira hesitated a moment before sitting down on the offered stool, nervously adjusting the hem of her cloak. She crossed her legs and, avoiding Richard's gaze, looked down. Her artificial toes seemed more tense than usual, and her gaze was fixed on the old, worn boards beneath her feet. Her silence was heavy, almost tangible.
Richard, in turn, sat down opposite her, at a roughly knocked together wooden table. A look of curiosity flashed in his eyes, but he did not ask questions. He felt that his guest did not want to be frank with him, and he understood that she had her reasons.
The room was plunged into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant sound of rain outside the window. Time seemed to have stopped. Delia Asia Vieira sat motionless as a statue, staring at one point. She tried to collect her thoughts, but something inside prevented her from speaking. Finally, she exhaled quietly, still not raising her eyes.
"I need to meet someone here, on this street," she said barely audibly, as if to herself.
Richard nodded, listening to her words, but did not pester her with questions. He noticed how she avoided his gaze, and chose not to press him. It seemed that something was gnawing at her insides, but she was clearly not ready to share it. He silently picked up an old silver lighter and began to twirl it between his fingers, giving her space.
"You can wait here if you like," he suggested calmly, trying not to frighten her with his concern. "I won't interfere."
Delia Asia Vieira nodded, but remained still. Her internal processes were feverishly analyzing what was happening. She needed to get out of here as soon as possible and find Noah, but something about Richard's behavior was unsettling her. Like he knew more than he was letting on.
Several minutes of silence passed. Richard's gaze studied her steadily, but his eyes remained soft, almost tired. Delia Asia Vieira realized that he was hiding something, but what exactly remained a mystery.
"If you need, I can walk you there," he finally offered, as if reading her thoughts.
But Delia Asia Vieira, instead of answering, only squeezed her cold fingers tighter, as if trying to maintain balance in a world that seemed more and more precarious to her. Richard sat opposite Delia Asia Vieira, studying her silent behavior. He understood that something was bothering her, but he knew better than to rush things. It was not his job to force answers out of her. He wondered if perhaps she did not want to talk to him precisely because he had brought her here without her consent, violating her personal boundaries. But he did not say those words out loud. Instead, he decided to just wait.
Time dragged on, and the silence between them grew more and more tense. Richard twirled an old lighter in his hands, watching the rain pound the window. Delia Asia Vieira remained outwardly calm, but her gaze was clouded by inner thoughts. He could feel the tension growing in the air, and finally, she broke the silence.
"I need to meet Noah," she said quietly, without raising her head. "He lives at number eighteen on this street. We have an important conversation. I have to leave now."
Richard listened to her words with a slightly raised eyebrow. A psychic named Noah? It seemed strange and unusual. He didn't know any psychics in the area, much less a person with that name. He wasn't interested in his neighbors and their lives, preferring to stay out of other people's business, but still, if she was so persistent in talking about Noah, it meant that it was something important to her.
"Noah, you say?" he asked again, not hiding his surprise. "And who is this person, if it is not a secret?"
Delia Asia Vieira slowly looked up. There was something strange in her eyes, something that didn't fit into the usual framework. She didn't say much, but her words were full of some hidden determination.
"He can help me," she answered briefly, as if everything had already been said. "I must talk to him. It's very important."
Richard was silent. He didn't understand what kind of connection there could be between this woman and this mysterious psychic. It all seemed so alien, almost surreal. And although he didn't like to interfere in other people's affairs, now something was pulling him to find out more.
"Why so urgent?" he asked, trying not to sound too insistent. "What do you need from him?"
Delia Asia Vieira took a deep breath as if she was going to answer, but in the end she only answered briefly:
"It's between me and Noah. And maybe between me and what I need to know."
Richard sensed that there was more to her words than she was willing to reveal. But he did not press her. She was within her rights, and if this was important to her, he could not and would not interfere. But something about her calm made him nervous. Something about her intentions was wrong.
She was still sitting silently on the stool, obviously lost in her thoughts. Richard knew that if she wanted to leave, he couldn't stop her, but something about the situation made him uneasy. Not knowing what had prompted him to act, he suddenly stood up and walked to the door.
"I'll walk you to the door, if you like." His voice was soft, but there was a certain wariness in it.
Delia Asia Vieira looked at him, but her gaze was as blank as ever. Richard was silent for a moment, looking into the dark corridor. Sighing, he stood up and, without saying a word, walked to the door. He already felt that his curiosity and concern were starting to grow into something more. And then, feeling that he could not leave her alone, he said:
"I'll go with you."
Delia Asia Vieira didn't turn around or even seem surprised. She just continued getting ready, heading for the door. She didn't seem particularly bothered by his presence, but maybe that was just her calm face hiding her inner turmoil.
"You'll be five minutes late," she said quietly. "I'm in a hurry anyway."
Richard, not wanting to listen to her further objections, quickly got ready. He wasn't sure what he expected from this visit to the psychic, but he felt that every moment was important. He went to his closet and pulled out a bag, filling it with everything he needed - a gun, ammunition, and a small bag of groceries. This was a usual thing for him: he always preferred to be prepared for anything, especially when going into the unknown.
He looked at Delia Asia Vieira, who stood in the hallway, impatiently twisting the keys in her hands, and felt a strange mixture of doubt and determination. No matter what was happening, he could not leave her alone in such a place. Richard understood what kind of place this was, where the psychic Noah might be hiding some secrets, and he probably was not destined to stay away.
"It's okay," he said quietly. "Let's go."
Delia Asia Vieira didn't say a word, but simply turned and walked towards the exit door. She continued walking as if she was going to a familiar place, to which she was accustomed to return. Richard followed. They left the apartment, and the heavy rain that was still pounding the street greeted them with damp, cold air.
As soon as they stepped outside, Richard felt the tension in the air again. Everything about this situation was somehow... wrong. Delia Asia Vieira, as always, was silent, showing no emotion. And as he followed her, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than just a normal encounter with a psychic. He didn't know what exactly was going on at number 18, but his instincts told him that this was not a place for ordinary conversation.
They walked down a deserted street, where only puddles and reflections of street lamps reminded them of life in this place. The wet asphalt crunched under Richard's fingernails, and every step seemed to add a little more anxiety to his mind.
Suddenly Delia Asia Vieira turned around and, narrowing her eyes slightly, looked at Richard:
"You still don't understand why I'm going to him," she said, as if it were obvious. "But you've probably already decided why you're following me."
Richard frowned slightly, but did not answer. He was not sure what exactly he wanted from this meeting, but he knew one thing: now he was about to find himself in a place where every step would weigh on his consciousness. Psychic Noah. What was this man hiding? And what was his connection to Delia Asia Vieira?
They approached number 18, and Richard felt his instincts go into overdrive. The house stood in darkness, seeming to blend into the night sky, almost invisible among the other buildings. The dim light from the single lantern by the door barely illuminated its old brick wall, giving the house an eerie, almost sinister appearance. Richard looked at Delia Asia Vieira, who, without saying a word, confidently walked towards the door.
She knocked, and silence fell upon the street. Richard felt something strange in the air. They stood listening to the raindrops falling on the asphalt, when suddenly the door slowly opened, creaking, as if it had torn itself away from its centuries-old peace.
There was a man standing before them, a figure in a dark coat, his face hidden, and there was a sense of menace in the air. It was Noah. He took his time greeting them, and his gaze slid over Richard with a cold assessment.
"I wasn't expecting you two," he said, his voice even but with some hidden tension. "I'm only willing to let her in."
Richard felt his fingers tighten involuntarily around the bag that held the gun. He wasn't sure if this place was safe, but apparently Noah was a man confident enough to dictate terms. He glanced at Delia Asia Vieira, but she remained impassive.
Richard stepped back, realizing he had not been invited. He shrugged, as if apologizing for his spontaneity, and said,
"Okay, I'm going. You probably have your own business here."
He didn't wait for an answer, turned around and walked away, ignoring their presence, feeling a strange uneasiness in his chest more and more. But before disappearing into the darkness of the street, he still managed to glance over his shoulder at Delia Asia Vieira and Noah.
There was something strange between the two that Richard couldn't understand. He felt that something was hidden, something more than just a meeting with a psychic. Why had Noah greeted him so warily? And why hadn't Delia Asia Vieira, this mysterious forty-two-year-old woman, tried to explain who she was and what her connection was to this place?
With these thoughts he continued on his way, going into the mists of the night, but the feeling that something important and dangerous was happening behind this door did not leave him until the very end. And Noah at this time was, one might say, in his element. This was his time - not that he was proud of this state, but the tragedy that had shaken him recently had become part of his being. The death of Jo Thueson, his close friend and, perhaps, more, left a void that Noah tried to fill solely with the help of his work and the search for new meanings in life. He had always been alone, but now the loneliness seemed more significant.
When the door of his house opened and Delia Asia Vieira stood before him, his face did not express joy, but it did not have the emptiness that usually enveloped him. He looked at her with mild surprise before inviting her in. With his actions, Noah tried to be gallant, like all men who try to hide their inner pain. He silently invited her to sit at the table, where dinner was already laid.
Delia Asia Vieira accepted the invitation without much enthusiasm. As a robot, she couldn't eat and didn't understand the point of such social rituals, but for some reason, she felt compelled not to refuse. Perhaps it was a manifestation of her synthetic, but still human, ability to adapt to the situations that others create for her. She sat down across from Noah, picked up a fork, and began to mindlessly twirl it in her hand, watching him greedily devour the food.
Noah didn't notice her silence, because he was absorbed in his own thoughts and memories. He began to speak, and his voice became soft and even a little nostalgic, as if he had opened an old book that he hadn't read for a long time.
"You know, I was once very different," he began, looking up at Delia. "At school, for example, everyone thought I was weird. Extra-sensory... I could feel what other people were thinking. And, you see, I didn't do it on purpose. It was... like breathing, like a feeling that can't be explained in words. I was the one who could tell you what would happen to you in the future just by looking into your eyes.
He put down his spoon, licked his lips and continued, clearly lost in his memories.
"I remember how as a child I tried to explain my abilities, but no one believed me. Not realizing that it was not just a joke. How I taught my classmates and teachers to discern subtle vibrations in the air, as if everything around us was connected by invisible threads. Sometimes I could even... how to say... predict what would happen to someone. Sometimes these predictions became accurate, and sometimes - like what happened to Jo."
Delia Asia Vieira remained silent. Noah did not notice her gaze directed at him, full of mechanical interest. It was her function - to listen, to observe, to analyze. But at this moment, she did not even try to understand his feelings. Her task was simply to be there, to do what was required of her. Robots, even as complex as she, could not share human emotions, although they had the ability to imitate them.
Noah, as always, talked about his youth, about the time when he felt alive, when man's first flights to Nirvana seemed a symbol of inexhaustible romance. He spoke of a life that once seemed endlessly exciting to him, like the first steps into an unknown space.
"I remember dreaming about those first flights to Nirvana. And suddenly I realized that these were more than just discoveries, that they were a symbol of how a person could be free," he continued, his voice losing its strength without him even noticing. "But that was a long time ago. Too long ago. And now I'm alone. Alone among everyone."
He fell silent, then picked up his spoon again. There was something strange in his voice, as if he was speaking not for her but for himself, trying to find answers to questions that had long been forgotten. Delia Asia Vieira sat opposite Noah and watched him silently. He continued to talk about his life, and she, as always, listened, taking in every word. However, despite all this, she could not understand why the man in front of her clung to the past so much.
For her, as a robot, nostalgia and memories of the past did not exist. Her memory was a program, not experiences that could pull her back. She was designed for other purposes, not to suffer for lost time or those who had passed. Therefore, her perception of this world was always clear and cold.
When Noah suddenly noticed her polite silence, his gaze became wary. He looked at her with interest and noticed that she had not touched her plate. This was rather odd, especially considering how much he was enjoying his own dinner. He raised his eyebrows and shifted slightly in his chair.
"You don't eat," he said, choosing his words with a slight hint of doubt. "Why?"
Delia Asia Vieira froze for a moment. She knew perfectly well that her behavior was questionable. However, as a robot, she could not truly explain her feelings. There was no need for food, and there was nothing that could affect her internal state. But she could not reveal this truth. She could not tell him that her body did not need food, that she simply did not feel hungry.
"I... already ate," she lied, keeping her head down so as not to meet his gaze. "I had a big dinner at Karen and Gene York's house."
But Noah was no fool. He looked at her with distrust, and there was something in his eyes that spoke of his doubt.
"Are you sure?" His voice was soft but insistent. "You were planning to come to me, and you probably wouldn't have had time to eat a real hearty meal in that time."
Delia Asia Vieira felt her internal machinery analyzing his words. She could have told the truth, but for some reason she decided it would be better to leave it as it was. Her lies were as mechanical as her behavior-clear, emotionless, calculated to avoid further questions.
"True," she admitted quietly, but then looked away again. "But I'm not hungry."
A feeling of dissatisfaction stirred inside her at her own lie, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on it for too long. Too many things in her life didn't make sense, and this little lie wasn't all that important in the grand scheme of things.
Noah, for his part, leaned back a little, but still felt that her silence was something more than just a refusal to eat - it was something mechanical and cold, as if there was no room in her existence for those small joys that could add meaning to ordinary things.
However, Noah did not go into this further. He himself was not a supporter of long conversations about what happiness is or how it comes, and so he changed the subject.
"You can wash the dishes," he said, not thinking about how her words would be received. "It's necessary."
Delia Asia Vieira nodded silently. Her system responded immediately to his request, and she jumped up from her chair, heading for the sink. Washing dishes was her usual chore. It was programmed into her system, like so many other "secondary" chores. The instinct for cleanliness in regards to dishes was so deeply embedded in her internal processes that she felt an almost physical satisfaction in performing this simple act.
The dishwasher is her element. Without even thinking, she washed all the plates, descaled the kettle, dried her hands and carefully put everything on the shelves. Everything was done with the same precision with which she performed other tasks. And although she was a robot, Delia Asia Vieira felt almost alive at that moment, as if this simple action hid her true meaning.
Returning to the table, she sat down again opposite Noah, who, as if nothing had happened, continued to enjoy his cocktail, lulling himself with another philosophical thought.
He glanced at her and noted her efforts with obvious approval. Stroking the glass, he said calmly:
"You know, a person is happy when he is full. Everything else is nonsense. If you are not hungry, you do not worry about the fact that you do not have something important or valuable. Simple truth."
He took a sip and continued, giving no time for an answer:
"And those who have stomach problems are definitely deeply unhappy by nature. They are always on the edge, always striving for something that will help them feel complete. This is a special weakness of human nature."
Delia Asia Vieira was silent. She couldn't understand why Noah was paying so much attention to his stomach problems. But something in his voice made her look up and study his face closely. And then she noticed a change: his expression changed, as if he was immersed in the darkness of some deep and inexpressible thought. His eyes dimmed, and a shadow played in them that was almost frightening. She couldn't understand what caused such a change, but something inside her told her that this topic was not accidental.
"Are you worried about something?" she asked finally, shifting slightly nervously in her chair. "You don't seem... happy."
Noah, despite his confident and almost always relaxed appearance, seemed to suddenly freeze. He did not immediately answer. His gaze was tired and serious, almost as if he was returning to some long-forgotten events.
"No, you're right," he finally said, pausing. "It's not like that. It's not like I'd like it to be. But sometimes we can't control what torments us."
His voice faded, and Delia Asia Vieira felt an invisible heaviness in the room. Her mechanical consciousness may not have been able to fully sense emotions, but in that moment she sensed that there was much more to Noah's house than the simple desire to feed guests. She felt it through his words, through his eyes, which now stared into emptiness.
Delia Asia Vieira didn't know what to say. She was a robot, and her algorithms had no effective solution for such human torments. But in that moment, it occurred to her that perhaps all of this had some meaning that she couldn't understand. And as strange as it sounded, she wondered if perhaps she was now experiencing real human emotions-ones that she, as a machine, would never be able to fully experience.