He's my father.
I've told myself all my life, he's my father. I have to believe it. I have to. My mother, that's what she told me, and I believe her. I have to. My mother, the great Queen Alexus. And my father, Ulysses.
I know it's crazy. I know what they say about him, about his great devotion to his human wife, who for all intents and purposes was as much fiction to us here on Zala as anything I believe about myself, something he told himself, the way I do it, too. So, in a way, I do share something meaningful with him. Right?
I know, it's crazy. I try not to think about it, I really do. It's not healthy. I've been trying to distance myself from my mother for years. It's not easy. It's not easy for anyone, but just try it when your mother isn't just famous, but the queen of the world. It's virtually impossible. But I'm trying.
A few years back, I kicked my rebellion into overdrive. Rebellion becomes a form of life for someone like me, an instinct, a survival instinct. I hopped off-planet with the first transport I could find. That's how I met Drexel. A few years back, he came across a robot that claimed it knew the truth about Ulysses. I was terrified. I told him to get rid of it. He did. He wanted nothing more than to follow that mystery to its end, but I convinced him otherwise.
Am I being selfish? Or am I surviving? What else can I do? I just don't know. But Drexel loves me. I know he does. We'll make it. We have to. What other choice do we have? What other choice does a crazy mixed-up universe like this give us? We have to take what we can get. It's the only way. The only thing we can tell ourselves, to...make the pain go away. Because the truth really does hurt. Sometimes even worse than the fictions we have to tell ourselves...just to survive...
"But this is not the story," says Kindly.