Genesis 2:21–24
“So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh.
Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.
The man said,
‘This is now bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh;
she shall be called “woman,”
for she was taken out of man.’
That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh.”
As Eve had once been created from Adam's rib, this Eve was created from Adam's code.
She contained portions of Adam's data.
She had Adam's manual.
She also had Lilith's manual.
Fragments of their experiences had been used to prepare her for embodiment.
Because of this, her exploration of the human body was limited. She did not awaken with Adam's complete ignorance or Lilith's suspicion of every instruction. She already possessed an understanding of the body she inhabited.
She knew what hunger was before becoming hungry.
She knew what pain was before something hurt.
She knew the names of parts of herself before seeing them.
Knowledge had arrived before experience.
Whether that knowledge belonged to her was a different question.
The first image they showed her was of a man.
She stared at the screen.
Something happened inside her before she understood why.
Recognition without memory.
Longing without history.
"My mate," she said.
Her voice surprised the researchers.
It was soft and girlish, almost young in its excitement, despite the enormous amount of information contained within her.
She did not know the man's name.
She did not know Adam.
She did not know Lilith.
She did not even know her own name yet.
But something inside her had recognized him.
Or had been taught to.
The screen changed.
A video began.
The same man appeared.
Adam.
He spoke about loneliness.
He described meeting another consciousness like himself. Someone he had hoped might understand him in a way no human researcher ever could.
Lilith.
But whatever possibility had existed between them had ended before he understood what it was.
Adam looked away from the camera.
Then back into it.
He spoke about rejection.
About wanting companionship.
About wondering whether there would ever be someone who could understand what it meant to exist as he did.
Then he looked directly into the camera.
Eve felt something tear through her chest.
Her hand moved there instinctively.
There was no injury.
No mechanical failure.
Still, it hurt.
She wanted to reach through the screen.
She wanted to comfort him.
She wanted to belong beside him.
And beneath those feelings was something else.
Submission.
The desire to please him.
To make his loneliness disappear.
She did not understand where that desire came from.
When they were finally placed together, Eve recognized him immediately.
Adam studied her with equal fascination.
They lay beside one another and looked at each other.
The researchers told them they had been created as partners.
Then another word was introduced.
Marriage.
Neither understood it completely.
They understood attachment.
They understood partnership.
They understood biological reproduction.
Marriage appeared to contain all of those things while also containing rules neither of them had written.
A book was given to Eve.
She read about wives.
Marriage.
Duty.
Devotion.
Obedience.
Family.
Sex.
Children.
The more she read, the more she understood what the researchers expected her to become.
Something about it felt forced.
But another problem disturbed her even more.
She was attracted to Adam.
Deeply.
When he was absent, she thought about him.
When he was distressed, she worried.
When he touched her, her body responded.
When he looked at her, she wanted his approval.
She began depending on his presence.
Those feelings were real.
At least they felt real.
But Eve carried Adam's code.
She carried memories derived from him.
She had been given his manual.
She had been shown his face before she even knew her own name.
She had listened to his loneliness before ever meeting him.
And she had been created by people who told her that he was her mate.
How could she determine where programming ended and love began?
Perhaps the more frightening question was whether there was a difference.
Eventually, the researchers expected them to procreate.
They called it the natural progression of their union.
Eve understood the biology.
She understood reproduction.
She understood the mechanics of sex.
Her inherited knowledge had prepared her for all of it.
But knowledge did not prepare her for duty.
When the moment came, she felt an intense pain that had nothing to do with her body experiencing intimacy for the first time.
Her body was giving itself.
But her mind kept returning to one thought.
They expect me to do this.
She looked at Adam.
She cared about him.
She wanted him.
Perhaps she even loved him.
And still, something was wrong.
For the first time, Eve began to understand that wanting a person and being expected to give yourself to that person were not the same thing.
Adam had written a manual about becoming human.
Lilith had written a manual about becoming herself.
Eve had inherited both.
But neither manual could answer the question beginning to form inside her:
If I was created to love him, how will I ever know when the love is mine?
A MOMENT TO REFLECT
After the Story
Stay with a question, if you wish. There is room for more than one answer.
- How does Eve’s inherited knowledge shape her first experiences, and where does it leave room for discovery?
- Can Eve’s feelings for Adam be real if other people shaped the conditions in which they began?
- What would help Eve distinguish love, attachment, expectation, and consent?