He looks no more threatening now he’s awake, but Lalia starts when she too turns to see him. He blinks at me once, eyes large and curious, not quite confused but definitely uncertain about the situation.
“These people need some help, they’re not going to tell anyone you’re here,” Lex says.
The number nods. He cocks his head, looking at Zane, glancing similarly at Bat with an eyebrow twitch, then stares dead at me again. I don’t blame him, but I’m uncomfortable. The last unregistered number we ran into on Taloon was shockingly nice, but before that, I’ve never met a passive one. This guy gives no hints about going off, but we regard one another a little defensively.
“He doesn’t talk much,” Lex says, without a hint of judgment in her voice. “But he’s not going to hurt you or turn you in.”
The number still doesn’t speak but gives a little nod of agreement. Giving Zane another half-glance, he wanders back. Was that it? Less of a dramatic scene than I was anticipating. For certain, I thought he’d have more reaction to me. Vague interest seems so…mild. Everyone is looking at me, so I shrug, maybe a bit more defensively than necessary. I know Lalia and the princesses have seen a lot of crap the past few weeks, but Lex doesn’t need to look so intent. Maybe she’s curious how the number reacts to his own kind.
Certainly not as he should.
Giving Bat another ear scratch, I wander out, squeezing past Anya still in the doorway. He may be mild, but I don’t trust that number. Who knows what he’ll do separate from Lex, and I’m not in the mood to get ambushed. He’s in the kitchen, and I watch him rummage around the cabinets. His clothes are loose, no pockets, waist not tight enough to hold a weapon. If he’s armed, he’d have to have a holster of some sort under his clothes. I can’t see the shape of one, and the heat signatures in my eyes don’t find any odd shapes of what would be slightly cooler than body-temperature metal.
He closes the cupboard with a bag of what seems to be dried fruit in hand, nibbling on a piece, jumping when he turns to find me watching from the kitchen doorway. Okay, so not very observant for a cyborg. But that might be due to whatever injuries he sustained. There was definite head trauma. Maybe he can’t even hear all that well.
“What’s your story?” I ask, softer than usual because he’s continuing to stare at me with wide, startled eyes.
He shifts, looking over my shoulder like he expects Lex to come rescue him. He’s afraid of me? Usually, I’m the one nervous about other numbers, unregistered or not. I don’t think I’ve ever been on the receiving end of another cyborg’s fear. It makes my stomach twist, especially when this one in particular seems straight-up shy.
“I’m not going to do anything to you,” I say blandly, like I’m talking to a human who’s never seen a rogue number before.
He nods, putting another piece of fruit slowly in his mouth. He gestures uncertainly toward the window over the sink facing the meadow and the forest beyond, where the old ship was. “Ship crash.”
I nod. So much was fairly obvious, but he looks like he wants to edge away out of the other doorway to the living room, so I let him. He evidently doesn’t want to talk, and I can respect that. Anya creeps up next to me, looking up curiously. I shrug.
“Lex?” I ask, peeking my head back into the spare bedroom where Lalia is busy talking to the woman over a kit of medical supplies. “Do you by chance have a comm I could borrow?”
She looks up at me, squinting at the rather obvious hearing aids connecting my temples to my ears.
“Mine kinda got blown out of my head,” I say, pointing to my injuries. “I’d like to take a look around the property if that’s alright with you.”
She shrugs, seeming to get the picture, and heads off into another room.
“What are you going to do?” Lalia asks. She’s reading the label on a container of unfamiliar medicine.
“Just take a look around, get familiar with the place.”
“I’ll go!” Anya says.
“Next time. I’m just taking a look around and I don’t know what’s out there.”
Anya pouts, but Yvonne rubs her hair starting to grow back in. Zane is crashed and I trust both Bat and Lalia to be able to take care of him. Neither of them particularly need me, and now that we’ve found a place safe enough to relax a little, I feel like I need some quiet just to think. Bat looks content on the pillow beside Zane’s head. I no longer feel as if I’m leaving him with some humans, just some of his friends, even if he doesn’t cuddle with them.
I feel Yvonne’s eyes on me as I wander out the door.
The forest is relatively empty, just as it was at the site of the wreck.
I have my tablet with me, but there’s nothing dangerous or so odd I need to attempt searching it up. I take a loop around the back of the house, fiddling with the external comm Lex gave me. It fits in my ear fine, and I already tested it to make sure it works. Being able to call up Bat or Lalia at any time makes me feel more secure than I’d like to admit.
The air is warm but not too muggy and I walk slowly, in not too much hurry to return to the house. A part of me acknowledges I’m trying to avoid seeing Zane’s injuries. Stuff like that isn’t supposed to happen to him. He’s a big, happy, cheerful puppy. He isn’t supposed to get half blown up by some wacko Amerov special forces number who’s after me and the princesses. If those two weren’t involved with me, they’d probably be fine running away from Clock on their own. It’s definitely gotten rougher on them since they met up with me.
Well, I tried to get them to leave me alone. If they hadn’t brought up the sibling thing and been so stubborn about it, I would’ve turned them over nice and safe and sound to Clock by now.
No, I wouldn’t have. So long as I knew what Captain would do to them simply for trying to find their long-lost brother—even if it was stupid and illegal on a whole new level—I wouldn’t just let them go. It’s what I’m going to do if they turn out not to be related to me.
I rub my eyes. I’d rather not think about it. It’s too complicated without knowing the facts.
Can’t even call Zane an idiot. All he was doing was staying in his ship, which was the smarter move. And I’m well aware of the fact he would be dead if I hadn’t gone in there. Even if Lalia managed to get in that burning wreck, she never would’ve gotten out. There’s no one really to blame other than Captain and his otherworldly ForceZero numbers. We’re doing the best we can, I suppose.
I walk maybe half a mile through the woods parallel to the house before looping back. A spring bubbles amongst the mosses and trees, pooling in shallow divots of rock, steaming. I poke my uninjured pinkie finger in the water. Hot, but not burning. Interesting. Plenty of the pools are large enough to sit in, even swim. Steam rises in lazy fingers into the sky, the water crystal clear. It’s probably lovely here at night, or when it’s cold enough to warrant being in hot water. I wonder if it snows here. Much like the little jungle planet Lalia and I crashed on, if this place wasn’t forbidden for cyborgs, it wouldn’t be too bad a place to settle down. Nice weather, not many people. Lex certainly has a nice enough place, even if it’s a little old and worn out.
I’d miss the stars too much. Miss the inside of my ship.
Looping back eventually brings me out the side of the meadow where most of the old equipment is parked. I wander through the ships and farming vehicles, wondering offhandedly if any of them have a viewport that can replace mine. No such luck.
Most of the crafts are rusty, some covered in tarps. A few single-person vessels, one that’s a little larger but still about half the size of mine, a few hover bikes like the one Lex rode out of the forest. Old vehicles with actual wheels I don’t have names for. I fiddle around the with equipment, popping my head into all the nooks and crannies, but there’s likewise nothing suspicious and nothing useful I could buy off the woman.
Maybe she knows an out-of-the-way place where I can get the glass of the viewport fixed without anyone minding what I am. Or maybe I can have Lalia or Yvonne do the interaction and hide inside the ship. The average mechanic isn’t going to know the faces of people on bounty charts. Not sure. Everything feels like too great a risk right now. A few days to think this through will be helpful. Maybe Yvonne and I can work out the best way to get the two of them directly to Neyla Ve and to their parents without incident.
Given the situation on this little farm with Lex and her strange cyborg, this place doesn’t seem too bad a spot to hunker down for a few days until Zane stabilizes. I don’t trust her, and I’m waiting for something to go wrong, but so far, it could be worse.
At least, that’s what I’m hoping for. Evening is beginning to set. I head back for the shape of the house in the falling dusk.
He looks no more threatening now he’s awake, but Lalia starts when she too turns to see him. He blinks at me once, eyes large and curious, not quite confused but definitely uncertain about the situation.
“These people need some help, they’re not going to tell anyone you’re here,” Lex says.
The number nods. He cocks his head, looking at Zane, glancing similarly at Bat with an eyebrow twitch, then stares dead at me again. I don’t blame him, but I’m uncomfortable. The last unregistered number we ran into on Taloon was shockingly nice, but before that, I’ve never met a passive one. This guy gives no hints about going off, but we regard one another a little defensively.
“He doesn’t talk much,” Lex says, without a hint of judgment in her voice. “But he’s not going to hurt you or turn you in.”
The number still doesn’t speak but gives a little nod of agreement. Giving Zane another half-glance, he wanders back. Was that it? Less of a dramatic scene than I was anticipating. For certain, I thought he’d have more reaction to me. Vague interest seems so…mild. Everyone is looking at me, so I shrug, maybe a bit more defensively than necessary. I know Lalia and the princesses have seen a lot of crap the past few weeks, but Lex doesn’t need to look so intent. Maybe she’s curious how the number reacts to his own kind.
Certainly not as he should.
Giving Bat another ear scratch, I wander out, squeezing past Anya still in the doorway. He may be mild, but I don’t trust that number. Who knows what he’ll do separate from Lex, and I’m not in the mood to get ambushed. He’s in the kitchen, and I watch him rummage around the cabinets. His clothes are loose, no pockets, waist not tight enough to hold a weapon. If he’s armed, he’d have to have a holster of some sort under his clothes. I can’t see the shape of one, and the heat signatures in my eyes don’t find any odd shapes of what would be slightly cooler than body-temperature metal.
He closes the cupboard with a bag of what seems to be dried fruit in hand, nibbling on a piece, jumping when he turns to find me watching from the kitchen doorway. Okay, so not very observant for a cyborg. But that might be due to whatever injuries he sustained. There was definite head trauma. Maybe he can’t even hear all that well.
“What’s your story?” I ask, softer than usual because he’s continuing to stare at me with wide, startled eyes.
He shifts, looking over my shoulder like he expects Lex to come rescue him. He’s afraid of me? Usually, I’m the one nervous about other numbers, unregistered or not. I don’t think I’ve ever been on the receiving end of another cyborg’s fear. It makes my stomach twist, especially when this one in particular seems straight-up shy.
“I’m not going to do anything to you,” I say blandly, like I’m talking to a human who’s never seen a rogue number before.
He nods, putting another piece of fruit slowly in his mouth. He gestures uncertainly toward the window over the sink facing the meadow and the forest beyond, where the old ship was. “Ship crash.”
I nod. So much was fairly obvious, but he looks like he wants to edge away out of the other doorway to the living room, so I let him. He evidently doesn’t want to talk, and I can respect that. Anya creeps up next to me, looking up curiously. I shrug.
“Lex?” I ask, peeking my head back into the spare bedroom where Lalia is busy talking to the woman over a kit of medical supplies. “Do you by chance have a comm I could borrow?”
She looks up at me, squinting at the rather obvious hearing aids connecting my temples to my ears.
“Mine kinda got blown out of my head,” I say, pointing to my injuries. “I’d like to take a look around the property if that’s alright with you.”
She shrugs, seeming to get the picture, and heads off into another room.
“What are you going to do?” Lalia asks. She’s reading the label on a container of unfamiliar medicine.
“Just take a look around, get familiar with the place.”
“I’ll go!” Anya says.
“Next time. I’m just taking a look around and I don’t know what’s out there.”
Anya pouts, but Yvonne rubs her hair starting to grow back in. Zane is crashed and I trust both Bat and Lalia to be able to take care of him. Neither of them particularly need me, and now that we’ve found a place safe enough to relax a little, I feel like I need some quiet just to think. Bat looks content on the pillow beside Zane’s head. I no longer feel as if I’m leaving him with some humans, just some of his friends, even if he doesn’t cuddle with them.
I feel Yvonne’s eyes on me as I wander out the door.
The forest is relatively empty, just as it was at the site of the wreck.
I have my tablet with me, but there’s nothing dangerous or so odd I need to attempt searching it up. I take a loop around the back of the house, fiddling with the external comm Lex gave me. It fits in my ear fine, and I already tested it to make sure it works. Being able to call up Bat or Lalia at any time makes me feel more secure than I’d like to admit.
The air is warm but not too muggy and I walk slowly, in not too much hurry to return to the house. A part of me acknowledges I’m trying to avoid seeing Zane’s injuries. Stuff like that isn’t supposed to happen to him. He’s a big, happy, cheerful puppy. He isn’t supposed to get half blown up by some wacko Amerov special forces number who’s after me and the princesses. If those two weren’t involved with me, they’d probably be fine running away from Clock on their own. It’s definitely gotten rougher on them since they met up with me.
Well, I tried to get them to leave me alone. If they hadn’t brought up the sibling thing and been so stubborn about it, I would’ve turned them over nice and safe and sound to Clock by now.
No, I wouldn’t have. So long as I knew what Captain would do to them simply for trying to find their long-lost brother—even if it was stupid and illegal on a whole new level—I wouldn’t just let them go. It’s what I’m going to do if they turn out not to be related to me.
I rub my eyes. I’d rather not think about it. It’s too complicated without knowing the facts.
Can’t even call Zane an idiot. All he was doing was staying in his ship, which was the smarter move. And I’m well aware of the fact he would be dead if I hadn’t gone in there. Even if Lalia managed to get in that burning wreck, she never would’ve gotten out. There’s no one really to blame other than Captain and his otherworldly ForceZero numbers. We’re doing the best we can, I suppose.
I walk maybe half a mile through the woods parallel to the house before looping back. A spring bubbles amongst the mosses and trees, pooling in shallow divots of rock, steaming. I poke my uninjured pinkie finger in the water. Hot, but not burning. Interesting. Plenty of the pools are large enough to sit in, even swim. Steam rises in lazy fingers into the sky, the water crystal clear. It’s probably lovely here at night, or when it’s cold enough to warrant being in hot water. I wonder if it snows here. Much like the little jungle planet Lalia and I crashed on, if this place wasn’t forbidden for cyborgs, it wouldn’t be too bad a place to settle down. Nice weather, not many people. Lex certainly has a nice enough place, even if it’s a little old and worn out.
I’d miss the stars too much. Miss the inside of my ship.
Looping back eventually brings me out the side of the meadow where most of the old equipment is parked. I wander through the ships and farming vehicles, wondering offhandedly if any of them have a viewport that can replace mine. No such luck.
Most of the crafts are rusty, some covered in tarps. A few single-person vessels, one that’s a little larger but still about half the size of mine, a few hover bikes like the one Lex rode out of the forest. Old vehicles with actual wheels I don’t have names for. I fiddle around the with equipment, popping my head into all the nooks and crannies, but there’s likewise nothing suspicious and nothing useful I could buy off the woman.
Maybe she knows an out-of-the-way place where I can get the glass of the viewport fixed without anyone minding what I am. Or maybe I can have Lalia or Yvonne do the interaction and hide inside the ship. The average mechanic isn’t going to know the faces of people on bounty charts. Not sure. Everything feels like too great a risk right now. A few days to think this through will be helpful. Maybe Yvonne and I can work out the best way to get the two of them directly to Neyla Ve and to their parents without incident.
Given the situation on this little farm with Lex and her strange cyborg, this place doesn’t seem too bad a spot to hunker down for a few days until Zane stabilizes. I don’t trust her, and I’m waiting for something to go wrong, but so far, it could be worse.
At least, that’s what I’m hoping for. Evening is beginning to set. I head back for the shape of the house in the falling dusk.
