That's tough, Stitch. In Styrian's eyes, you're either the butcher, or you're the cattle. As long as you're a doctor healing people, then you're just an underling. If you buddy up with Upper, then you would tick up a notch. But then, you're a threat.
Heavyset walks out beside you, gives the Mario Cart players a head nod of greeting, doesn't talk until you're outside. Once he sees you're clear, he says, "That went alright, didn't it? You're knockin' 'em all down. Wanna head up by Chloe's while we're out? That's the cathouse 'round here. They got all the jingle an all the friends around."
I take a deep breath. "Might as well." I answer. Then I can go back to the clinic and snuggle with Metro and feel like myself again, instead of the idea of me that I keep having to project to new people.
Heavyset leads you up further north, farther away from your clinic, and Metro.
On the edge of town sits a large manor. It's made of hundreds of concrete blocks fitted together with skill. This is one of the nicest buildings you've seen in the south, definitely the best made. Also, it looks new. When was the last time you saw something new?
You recognize Greenburg's bike parked out front. There are also a pair of bright pink and yellow bikes, as well as a big covered truck. When you head inside, the place is decorated in soft pastels, rather simple. The front room is huge, with a small bar, couches and a couple of poles in the middle of a tile floor. There are girls here, most of them thin, attractive. Men, too, talking with them, drinking, laughing. Music's playing.
A woman dressed in prim clothes with her hair in a bun comes up to greet you with a genuine smile. She looks like this: "Heavyset, it's been too long." She turns to you, saying politely, "Welcome to Chloe's. My name's Maybelline, but friends call me Maybel. You're the new doctor, right? Nice to meet you." She offers a hand. Her nails are manicured and painted expertly.
Maybel accepts your answer. She doesn't feel the need for a hard sell. It's obvious she's busy here. "One of my girls are trained in some first aid, we have a few books and some small supplies, but I'm quite happy to hear there is a proper doctor here. I would like to schedule some time for you to check on my girls when you're able. Would that be alright, Stitch?" She offers a polite smile, she's very good at it.
"Of course." I answer, already having thought of it. I wonder what she and her girls are using for birth control- because I worry- but that's not a question for right now. "I am still setting up- I don't have much in the way of beds yet, but I think UpperTen may help with that."
It's obvious she's good at what she does, and by the look of the place and her people she should be proud of it. I smile back genuinely.
"If he falls through, let me know." Maybel says lightly. "I've got a few beds. Wouldn't be surprised if Upper comes here to take them, then brings them straight to you. But I won't steal his thunder."
Maybel considers you for a moment, then remarks idly, "I hear you came from up north. How are things by way of Armour and the Ascendant?" She purses her lips for a moment, and they slide into a smile as she asks, "Any particular reason you left the Ascendant, Stitch?"
"Things are the same, mostly." I reply. Of course she knows I came from the Ascendant- if anyone did in this town it'd be her. "Mostly I felt bad for the people who couldn't get there for medical care. Folks need doctors and I started to feel like maybe Sector needed me more than the Ascendant. I trained up a few doctors and nurses and left the ship in capable hands."
It was always a thing I'd intended to do, I just got comfy on the ship. But when people started coming to me for cosmetic things it really made me think- kids starving, people dying of the flu, wounds not healing right. I couldn't sit in my lab and ignore those people. Also when a woman gets to 40 she starts thinking about what kind of world she's going to leave behind, and I'd like to do the most I can to make it a better one.
Maybel makes a few quiet sounds of interest, "I am sure the Ascendant misses you, and we're glad to have such a caring and professional woman here. I know the clinic was a wreck, and low on supplies. Upper and Card are working on that with you, I believe. But, is there anything you need? Or perhaps anything for your, ah, assistant?" She seems particularly interested in whoever she calls your "assistant".
Of course she's interested in Metro. Everyone is interested in him. I hadn't counted on how much attention he'd get here- I don't like it. Not so much because I want him all to myself- I sort of do, but not at the expense of him being happy- but because I'm afraid they will find out about his programming and take advantage of it.
"You'll have to ask him that yourself." I reply, not answering her first question. "It was nice to meet you, I should get back to my patients."
Maybelline politely lets you go about your business and chats briefly with Heavyset before heading over to speak with her customers.
"That went alright." Heavyset says simply as you head out, walking back to the clinic. He walks in with you and looks around for anything he can do to help out.
There are a few new patients here, one from the Commune, another from Pip's, sent by Applejack. Metro's here, checking them out.
Once they're dealt with, anything you want to do, Stitch?
I dive back into work, irritated by a vague feeling I can't quite place. The whole time I question the decision to leave the Ascendant. Metro and I were good there, right? I felt bad about the folks who needed care out here, but everyone respected both of us and I wasn't constantly worried that someone would discover his weakness.
Once we've seen to the patients I ask Metro for a neck rub, I've got a bunch of tension, but also I mostly just want that closeness. After that I wouldn't mind some food, but I don't want to have to go out to get it.
Big Hunk is no longer here. Whatcha is in the room you assigned her. Blue and Lenovo are staying in a room, and you have no more patients for now. Of course Metro rubs your neck. He brings you to your room, which looks even more organized, a bit cleaner than before. There's a door up, too.
"How was your trip around the town? Run into any trouble?" He asks as he continues working at the kinks he finds. Of course, his hands move away from your neck, to your shoulders, your back, all along your arms. He kneads muscles and massages sore spots and eventually moves you to lie face down on the bed so he can help you relax. Does it work?
Before things progress too far, there's a knock at your door. Metro answers it, of course. It's Applejack. She's carrying a pair of plastic grocery bags filled with bowls and utensils.
With a winning smile, she steps in without being invited, "I bet the two of you hard workers would love a bite. I made up a mess o' oatmeal with some o' my famous honey, which I know Stitch here loves. And I put in a few strips o' bacon, along with some sweet syrup and a few omelets. I know it aint breakfast, but hey, I'm an unconventional kind o' girl."
Metro look to you for how to take this. What do you do?
Before you have a chance to answer Applejack, Metro's right eye twitches, and he puts a hand against the wall for support. He stands there for a moment, puts his head down like he's taking a breath.
Of course it works, I am putty in his hands. I'm not particularly thrilled at the interruption, but the honey makes up for it- I'm just sitting up when I see Metro falter.
I rush over to him. "What is it?" I ask him, searching for signs of distress, while knowing that he doesn't work like that. My heart starts racing- I have never seen him like this. Sure, if he works too hard or gets injured there is wear and tear... What if... what if I can't fix him?
Without opening his eyes, Metro answers, "Internal failure. Logic circuit burned. Over-heated due to slippage on coolant application. Re-routing systems will take eighteen minutes. Seven percent chance of failure."
With alarm, and a bit of worry, Applejack puts a hand on his shoulder. I assume you're there, too. She looks at you and asks, "What the hell is... what is he, Stitch?" The door is still open, but nobody should be around.
Of course in there, I have to fight the urge to try to lay him down on the bed, I can't maneuver him without his help.
My eyes fly to Applejack's, and I move to close the door without taking my eyes off hers. "He is the man I love who happens to be an artificial person who came from Earth." I answer, my tone low and fill of warning. "I would appreciate if you kept that to yourself- some folk here might not handle it well."
I watch her for any hint that she's going to run screaming from the room.
I sit down on the edge of the bed ranking a hand through my hair. What am I going to do? He always said he could maintain himself. He was supposed to last longer than me. What am I supposed to do? I feel like the bottom has dropped out of the world. I'm unanchored.
Applejack looks at you, eyes wide for a moment. Then she steps over to close the door. "I heard tales 'bout one o' these robots bein' dangerous to people, Stitch. One o' 'em killed a bunch o' folks. You're sayin' he aint like that, I guess?"
Metro slips to his knees, then the floor, sitting with his back against the wall, eyes closed, moving under his eyelids rapidly.
"Of course he's not like that, I've known him for five years and if anything he's too helpful towards folk that would turn him into a slave if they knew."
I sit down on the floor next to him, taking his hands in mine. I won't cry. I have no reason to cry, yet.
Applejack sets the plastic bags on the floor and moves behind you, gently rubbing your back, "It's alright, Mama. He said he can fix it. Everythin's gonna work out. Don't you worry." Her tone is soft and comforting, genuine and compassionate. Gone is the artifice of her flirting, here is a piece of Applejack's real self, reaching out, hoping she can soothe your worry.
My face is full of pain and hurt- what am I gonna do? I take a breath, in and out. Another. It will be fine. He can be fixed, right? It's not like he's gonna die.
Right?
After a few long moments, I scoot over to him, checking him out as best as I can. I lay my hand on his chest, feeling the very familiar vibrations of his internal systems and it calms me a bit.
Fifteen of the longest minutes of your life pass. Applejack continues to stay nearby, even offers you a shoulder if you need it. But you're close to Metro, so she respects that.
Finally. Finally, Metro stirs slightly, blinks, then takes in a reflexive, but unnecessary breath. "I'm back. Sorry." He moves a hand up to touch your face. He seems satisfied where he is, close to you.
It feels like all of the air escapes from my lungs in one reverse gasp. My hands start trembling a little, finally having him respond means I can fall apart now. I want to ask him what happened, make him promise to never do it again but words fail me and I just hold his hand to my face.
"My core logic circuit needs to be replaced. It suffered a massive failure." His speech slurs, just slightly. Applejack probably wouldn't notice, but you do. "I've worked around it, but there is a degradation in my higher functions. The three laws are no longer in effect, Stitch. I need to find a replacement. Soon."
I wonder what he means by that. Soon like a year? The man is over 200 years old. Or soon like tomorrow? "When?" I ask. I wonder if there's a way to replace this logic circuit but cut out the three laws. Let him live like a person.
He blinks, which you know was him considering lying to you. Then, looking down. "Eleven days, three hours, twenty six minutes, ten seconds." He licks his lips, "The options I see are as follows. There is a destroyed AI where the Pods used to be, but it is irradiated and Kiddo destroyed it, so it is most likely very destroyed. lime, the AI girl, but this would mean her, ah, body would become inert. I could attempt repairs on the circuit, but I would require tools and a workspace like we had at the Ascendant. Lastly, Tradertown might have a circuit or tools, or a Savvyhead... one who could fix me."
Eleven days?!? I was supposed to have the rest of my life with him.
"What has the best chance of success?" I ask, steeling myself. "Tradertown?" I'm loathe to go there again, but I will do anything to help him. The irony isn't lost on me that he's one of the handful of people on the whole planet who I can't fix.
"Yes. Unfortunately so." Metro answers quietly. "I'm sorry, Stitch." He reaches for your right hand, holds it in both of his.
"My cousins work at Tradertown." Applejack says out of the blue, her eyes still showing her awe at this conversation. "If ya got room in yer van, o' course."
I shake my head, he has nothing to be sorry about. "You should stay here. You'll be safer." I tell him. I hope that whatever odd presence sensed him last time will pass me over if I'm alone.
"Um, yeah, of course." I reply to Applejack. "I'm not very good on my own."
Eleven days, three hours, twenty five minutes.
I wonder if this would have happened if we'd stayed on the Ascendant. He said he could fix it, maybe, with the workshop. I'm not sure how we'd be received if we went back, though- with all of the politics of the place.
I stand up briskly and start chucking clothes in a bag. I'm not going to waste another minute. I have a job to do.
Metro nods, looking a little dejected, like a burden. He doesn't say it, but you know he feels it.
She offers a quick smile, "I'm nothin' if I aint company. Wanna take yer van or take my rumbler? Got me a drek lil car o' my own. It's a franken-car, made o' bunch o' other ones. But it runs."
"What do you think? Do you want the van?" I ask Metro, trying to keep my hands moving so they don't start shaking. I look at Applejack, "It may be better if we take your car, it's probably faster."
I don't know what an AI logic circuit looks like. Most folks here don't even know about robots. How am I supposed to do this? I want to comfort him and shout at him to stop moping and help me help him. Is this how he felt when I was in that explosion?
He nods, "I can keep in contact with you with the van. The radio. I have a portable one I will give you. I'll bounce signals off the radio towers." He looks at you for a moment, then adds, "I will draw the logic circuit for you right now. I will note pertinent details while you prepare for the drive. You'll need some items to trade."
Applejack listens in, trying to find ways to contribute, "I got food stored, it'll be good fer a trip. An', I'll grab some things fer trade around here, to cover gas an' all."
I wonder if I should try to get someone to loan me some barter. I have some, but it's not like logic circuits are just lying around. "Thank you." I say to both of them, not making eye contact with either.
After a few minutes of packing, my thoughts swirling around like ink in water, I still. I take a breath in, and out. I need to know exactly what to do to fix Metro and just because he doesn't have human organs doesn't mean I can't figure that out.
I walk over to Metro and guide him to sit down. I'm a little self-conscious doing this in front of Applejack, but it's not like she hasn't seen his secret, she might as well see mine.
I place my fingers at his temples, hoping that's close enough to the logic circuit, and open my brain.
Yes, the logic circuit is broken. There are many, many more things wearing down, too. He needs a full servicing. He's like a car that hasn't had a tune-up in a decade, driven by a pizza delivery guy the whole time. Said driver hasn't even checked the oil in five years because "hey, there's no oil anyway". How could you fix it? Find another AI model and swap out parts, upload his consciousness into something sturdier, get the frak off this planet. everything else is a stop-gap. But hey, good news is that if you fix the logic circuit, he'll probably "outlive" you.
Weyland Yutani made him. Specifically, he's an early design, created with emotional comprehension and bonding. Created to become not only a coworker, but a nurturer and caring partner to the crew of an exploration vessel. The model was created to last one hundred and twenty years. It was judged to be ineffective in the field due to the stresses of exploration and AI models growing too close to their companions.
Her name was Swisskit. She'd come back from a place called "The Valley", broken and bruised. She'd been mistreated by the brutish men who lived there. Metro took her in, nursed her back to health. She moved on. He missed her. For a decade.
I swallow, feeling a panic coming on, but trying to remain calm for Metro and Applejack's sake. And my own.
I've never seen his closeness as a defect, but what if it's just him and not me? We've talked at length about love and feelings and artificial intelligence- for a second I wonder if he only thinks he loves me because he's programmed to care for humans. My eyes sting- I don't know what's worse- thinking he might die in the next two weeks or wondering if his love for me is real or a construct devised to make him a better servant. I pull my fingers away from his head, shaking a little.
Metro is the person who connects me to this planet- without him... would I still practice medicine? Would I go about my life like I'd just woken up here, pretending that it's enough? If I could get off the planet- and that's a huge if- what then? Back to Earth? The Moon? Where everyone I knew and loved is dead? Where I might find my name in a history book of those lost?
I can't think. Can't concentrate. I shake my head a little. Focus! I need to finish packing so I can find a way to fix him, then I can freak out about the rest.
Comments
He nods back, "Nice meeting you, Stitch." He seems done with you.
Heavyset walks out beside you, gives the Mario Cart players a head nod of greeting, doesn't talk until you're outside. Once he sees you're clear, he says, "That went alright, didn't it? You're knockin' 'em all down. Wanna head up by Chloe's while we're out? That's the cathouse 'round here. They got all the jingle an all the friends around."
On the edge of town sits a large manor. It's made of hundreds of concrete blocks fitted together with skill. This is one of the nicest buildings you've seen in the south, definitely the best made. Also, it looks new. When was the last time you saw something new?
You recognize Greenburg's bike parked out front. There are also a pair of bright pink and yellow bikes, as well as a big covered truck. When you head inside, the place is decorated in soft pastels, rather simple. The front room is huge, with a small bar, couches and a couple of poles in the middle of a tile floor. There are girls here, most of them thin, attractive. Men, too, talking with them, drinking, laughing. Music's playing.
A woman dressed in prim clothes with her hair in a bun comes up to greet you with a genuine smile. She looks like this:
"Heavyset, it's been too long." She turns to you, saying politely, "Welcome to Chloe's. My name's Maybelline, but friends call me Maybel. You're the new doctor, right? Nice to meet you." She offers a hand. Her nails are manicured and painted expertly.
Maybel nods pleasantly. "Is there anything either of you would like? A drink? A smoke? Some companionship?"
"Just a meet an greet, Maybel," Heavyset answers. "Wanted 'er to get a lay of the land."
She still looks to you in case you want something.
Maybel accepts your answer. She doesn't feel the need for a hard sell. It's obvious she's busy here. "One of my girls are trained in some first aid, we have a few books and some small supplies, but I'm quite happy to hear there is a proper doctor here. I would like to schedule some time for you to check on my girls when you're able. Would that be alright, Stitch?" She offers a polite smile, she's very good at it.
It's obvious she's good at what she does, and by the look of the place and her people she should be proud of it. I smile back genuinely.
"If he falls through, let me know." Maybel says lightly. "I've got a few beds. Wouldn't be surprised if Upper comes here to take them, then brings them straight to you. But I won't steal his thunder."
Maybel considers you for a moment, then remarks idly, "I hear you came from up north. How are things by way of Armour and the Ascendant?" She purses her lips for a moment, and they slide into a smile as she asks, "Any particular reason you left the Ascendant, Stitch?"
It was always a thing I'd intended to do, I just got comfy on the ship. But when people started coming to me for cosmetic things it really made me think- kids starving, people dying of the flu, wounds not healing right. I couldn't sit in my lab and ignore those people. Also when a woman gets to 40 she starts thinking about what kind of world she's going to leave behind, and I'd like to do the most I can to make it a better one.
Maybel makes a few quiet sounds of interest, "I am sure the Ascendant misses you, and we're glad to have such a caring and professional woman here. I know the clinic was a wreck, and low on supplies. Upper and Card are working on that with you, I believe. But, is there anything you need? Or perhaps anything for your, ah, assistant?" She seems particularly interested in whoever she calls your "assistant".
"You'll have to ask him that yourself." I reply, not answering her first question. "It was nice to meet you, I should get back to my patients."
"That went alright." Heavyset says simply as you head out, walking back to the clinic. He walks in with you and looks around for anything he can do to help out.
There are a few new patients here, one from the Commune, another from Pip's, sent by Applejack. Metro's here, checking them out.
Once they're dealt with, anything you want to do, Stitch?
Once we've seen to the patients I ask Metro for a neck rub, I've got a bunch of tension, but also I mostly just want that closeness. After that I wouldn't mind some food, but I don't want to have to go out to get it.
"How was your trip around the town? Run into any trouble?" He asks as he continues working at the kinks he finds. Of course, his hands move away from your neck, to your shoulders, your back, all along your arms. He kneads muscles and massages sore spots and eventually moves you to lie face down on the bed so he can help you relax. Does it work?
Before things progress too far, there's a knock at your door. Metro answers it, of course. It's Applejack. She's carrying a pair of plastic grocery bags filled with bowls and utensils.
With a winning smile, she steps in without being invited, "I bet the two of you hard workers would love a bite. I made up a mess o' oatmeal with some o' my famous honey, which I know Stitch here loves. And I put in a few strips o' bacon, along with some sweet syrup and a few omelets. I know it aint breakfast, but hey, I'm an unconventional kind o' girl."
Metro look to you for how to take this. What do you do?
Has this ever happened before, Stitch?
I rush over to him. "What is it?" I ask him, searching for signs of distress, while knowing that he doesn't work like that. My heart starts racing- I have never seen him like this. Sure, if he works too hard or gets injured there is wear and tear... What if... what if I can't fix him?
Without opening his eyes, Metro answers, "Internal failure. Logic circuit burned. Over-heated due to slippage on coolant application. Re-routing systems will take eighteen minutes. Seven percent chance of failure."
With alarm, and a bit of worry, Applejack puts a hand on his shoulder. I assume you're there, too. She looks at you and asks, "What the hell is... what is he, Stitch?" The door is still open, but nobody should be around.
What do you do?
My eyes fly to Applejack's, and I move to close the door without taking my eyes off hers. "He is the man I love who happens to be an artificial person who came from Earth." I answer, my tone low and fill of warning. "I would appreciate if you kept that to yourself- some folk here might not handle it well."
I watch her for any hint that she's going to run screaming from the room.
I sit down on the edge of the bed ranking a hand through my hair. What am I going to do? He always said he could maintain himself. He was supposed to last longer than me. What am I supposed to do? I feel like the bottom has dropped out of the world. I'm unanchored.
Applejack looks at you, eyes wide for a moment. Then she steps over to close the door. "I heard tales 'bout one o' these robots bein' dangerous to people, Stitch. One o' 'em killed a bunch o' folks. You're sayin' he aint like that, I guess?"
Metro slips to his knees, then the floor, sitting with his back against the wall, eyes closed, moving under his eyelids rapidly.
It's going to be a long eighteen minutes.
I sit down on the floor next to him, taking his hands in mine. I won't cry. I have no reason to cry, yet.
Applejack sets the plastic bags on the floor and moves behind you, gently rubbing your back, "It's alright, Mama. He said he can fix it. Everythin's gonna work out. Don't you worry." Her tone is soft and comforting, genuine and compassionate. Gone is the artifice of her flirting, here is a piece of Applejack's real self, reaching out, hoping she can soothe your worry.
Take one Bond on Applejack.
Right?
After a few long moments, I scoot over to him, checking him out as best as I can. I lay my hand on his chest, feeling the very familiar vibrations of his internal systems and it calms me a bit.
Finally. Finally, Metro stirs slightly, blinks, then takes in a reflexive, but unnecessary breath. "I'm back. Sorry." He moves a hand up to touch your face. He seems satisfied where he is, close to you.
"My core logic circuit needs to be replaced. It suffered a massive failure." His speech slurs, just slightly. Applejack probably wouldn't notice, but you do. "I've worked around it, but there is a degradation in my higher functions. The three laws are no longer in effect, Stitch. I need to find a replacement. Soon."
I wonder what he means by that. Soon like a year? The man is over 200 years old. Or soon like tomorrow? "When?" I ask. I wonder if there's a way to replace this logic circuit but cut out the three laws. Let him live like a person.
He blinks, which you know was him considering lying to you. Then, looking down. "Eleven days, three hours, twenty six minutes, ten seconds." He licks his lips, "The options I see are as follows. There is a destroyed AI where the Pods used to be, but it is irradiated and Kiddo destroyed it, so it is most likely very destroyed. lime, the AI girl, but this would mean her, ah, body would become inert. I could attempt repairs on the circuit, but I would require tools and a workspace like we had at the Ascendant. Lastly, Tradertown might have a circuit or tools, or a Savvyhead... one who could fix me."
"What has the best chance of success?" I ask, steeling myself. "Tradertown?" I'm loathe to go there again, but I will do anything to help him. The irony isn't lost on me that he's one of the handful of people on the whole planet who I can't fix.
"Yes. Unfortunately so." Metro answers quietly. "I'm sorry, Stitch." He reaches for your right hand, holds it in both of his.
"My cousins work at Tradertown." Applejack says out of the blue, her eyes still showing her awe at this conversation. "If ya got room in yer van, o' course."
"Um, yeah, of course." I reply to Applejack. "I'm not very good on my own."
Eleven days, three hours, twenty five minutes.
I wonder if this would have happened if we'd stayed on the Ascendant. He said he could fix it, maybe, with the workshop. I'm not sure how we'd be received if we went back, though- with all of the politics of the place.
I stand up briskly and start chucking clothes in a bag. I'm not going to waste another minute. I have a job to do.
She offers a quick smile, "I'm nothin' if I aint company. Wanna take yer van or take my rumbler? Got me a drek lil car o' my own. It's a franken-car, made o' bunch o' other ones. But it runs."
I don't know what an AI logic circuit looks like. Most folks here don't even know about robots. How am I supposed to do this? I want to comfort him and shout at him to stop moping and help me help him. Is this how he felt when I was in that explosion?
He nods, "I can keep in contact with you with the van. The radio. I have a portable one I will give you. I'll bounce signals off the radio towers." He looks at you for a moment, then adds, "I will draw the logic circuit for you right now. I will note pertinent details while you prepare for the drive. You'll need some items to trade."
Applejack listens in, trying to find ways to contribute, "I got food stored, it'll be good fer a trip. An', I'll grab some things fer trade around here, to cover gas an' all."
I walk over to Metro and guide him to sit down. I'm a little self-conscious doing this in front of Applejack, but it's not like she hasn't seen his secret, she might as well see mine.
I place my fingers at his temples, hoping that's close enough to the logic circuit, and open my brain.
(OOC: Things Speak incoming.)
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 3, 4. Total: 10)
How could you fix it? Find another AI model and swap out parts, upload his consciousness into something sturdier, get the frak off this planet. everything else is a stop-gap. But hey, good news is that if you fix the logic circuit, he'll probably "outlive" you.
I swallow, feeling a panic coming on, but trying to remain calm for Metro and Applejack's sake. And my own.
I've never seen his closeness as a defect, but what if it's just him and not me? We've talked at length about love and feelings and artificial intelligence- for a second I wonder if he only thinks he loves me because he's programmed to care for humans. My eyes sting- I don't know what's worse- thinking he might die in the next two weeks or wondering if his love for me is real or a construct devised to make him a better servant. I pull my fingers away from his head, shaking a little.
Metro is the person who connects me to this planet- without him... would I still practice medicine? Would I go about my life like I'd just woken up here, pretending that it's enough? If I could get off the planet- and that's a huge if- what then? Back to Earth? The Moon? Where everyone I knew and loved is dead? Where I might find my name in a history book of those lost?
I can't think. Can't concentrate. I shake my head a little. Focus! I need to finish packing so I can find a way to fix him, then I can freak out about the rest.