Forerunner's Child (14) (Patreon)

Kit didn't want to go to dinner—or anywhere else.

Lucien poked his head in after a little while, though she couldn't say how long. He took one look at her on the ground next to the chair and vanished back the way he'd come.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, trying to get the courage to leave. Eventually the door opened again, and someone else appeared. Not Lucien, though the ferret hadn't gone anywhere. He hunched over his computer on the far side of the room, pretending not to notice her.

"Kit."

Jay made his way in, wearing an ill-fitting jacket. He shuffled over to her, before sitting down on the floor opposite her. The mouse took something from a pocket and offered it to her. A plastic bottle filled with faint blue gel. "Thirsty?"

She looked up, sniffed, then took the bottle. "This isn't water."

"Mostly is. Other stuff too—good for healing."

She sipped. One taste, and she recognized what she was drinking—the same stuff Wren kept in her office, albeit a different flavor. She sat up, taking it in both hands so she could drink faster. She had it half empty before she even realized what she was doing.

She set it down, shifting nervously. "Did I... sorry. That's yours."

"Don't need one. I didn't go climbing."

She sat up, resting against the wall beside him and drinking in silence.

"Lucien called me. Said you were losing your mind."

Hot tears flowed all over again. Kit wiped them away with one arm, tossing the empty bottle away. "I-it's not... crazy. Just... got a little overwhelmed, that's all. Emotions... you have emotions too. Don't you?"

Jay said nothing for a long while. A few times he opened his mouth, only to shut it again in silence, and go back to looking away from her. "Sure. Everyone has feelings. But we don't usually get so... overwhelmed. What happened? Couldn't be a family thing, you don't have any."

That threatened to make her lose it all over again. Maybe it would have, if he didn't wrap an arm around her shoulder in a tight hug. "Sorry! I didn't mean it like that. My family's all dead too. It's okay. That's how the world works."

"It's not okay!" She gave up the fight with her emotions. She was gonna cry, so she would have to let herself cry. "W-when... when I..."

Her tail curled around both of them. That helped, as much from the warmth as providing somewhere to hide. "On the surface. Forerunner said... he would never let people die. He thought the minds where I came from wouldn't either. So how come your world is so bad?"

"It's not." He eyed her tail, then looked back up. "I guess Mara is scary. No air, the sun is really dangerous, that kinda stuff. But we can get through that. Look how nice the Institute is! We work hard sometimes, but they take good care of us while we're doing it. It's a good trade."

She reached for the bottle, whimpering when she realized it was too far away. Kit squirmed for it, but Jay pushed her back. He settled a fresh bottle in her hand. "That bad?"

She drank for a little while. With his proximity, Kit gradually relaxed. The mouse wasn't big enough to hold her, but even so—different history or not, he was in the same situation as her. Prisoner of a machine, but with nowhere to run.

The safest, warmest prison in the world, with everything a resident her size could ever want.

"Forerunner is... fair?" she asked, when she finished her second cup. "He doesn't like some people more than others, does he?"

The mouse looked thoughtful. One hand reached up to his ears, scratching at one side. But given how huge they were, he probably had to do that a lot. "He definitely likes some people more. But he doesn't treat them better than everyone else. You have to know how to read his database to see the difference. If you're talking to him, it's very hard to tell. Why, do you want him to like you more?"

Kit stuck out her tongue. "That's not what I meant."

"Good. Cuz if it was, it's not hard." He nudged her tail with one hand. First, he looked cautious—but that fear faded. "He just wants you to talk to him like a person. The people he doesn't like are the ones that talk to him like a machine. Personas like to be people, even though they're not."

Kit ignored him. She ignored the hand in her tail too—so long as he didn't grab her like Lucien did, it wasn't so bad. Jay was gentler than most people. But maybe that came from that furless pink tail he had.

"Forerunner takes care of everyone though," Jay said. "Even if you're a jerk. You still get enough to eat. And more important things. Not getting into trouble, not feeling too sad with no one to look out for us. Not bored or scared or whatever."

Like sending you in here? Forerunner hadn't said anything in the computer lab, but it still had a way of controlling things. Unless it was Lucien—but did that count as the AI too?

"So why wouldn't he help the rest of Mara?" Kit leaned forward, resting on her knees. Her tail pulled back to an alert position behind her, slipping past his fingers. A few pieces were coming together after all. It was just an outline now, but maybe she could build it. "Forerunner wouldn't want them to suffer either."

"Course not," Jay said. "He's... fair? That's what you said. Fair."

Except he couldn't be, not based on what Sarah said. About the only thing she did say—a scarier version of what everyone else always did. Maybe it would work on someone else.

"Did Forerunner tell you to come?"

The mouse whimpered. He looked away from her, lifting his arm off her shoulder. "No. But Lucien said you were upset. I know you don't have many friends. If you think I shouldn't..."

Kit grabbed him by the shoulders, keeping the mouse from squirming away. "I'm glad you came."

"Oh." He relaxed, though his cheeks were still red. "That's good."

He copied her, rising up onto his knees. But he didn't say anything, just occasionally looking back through the open door, and shivering.

"Lots of my memories are fried," Kit continued. "I’m still... not sure if I'm really the same person I was. Feels more like I'm a copy of the real Kit, and not a very good one."

He looked up. "Would a copy be as brave as you? Going out onto the surface your first time in a suit? Or... calling baseliners on the outside? Nobody acts like that, except Kit Red Squirrel."

She didn't want to—but the mouse's smile was contagious. Besides, with just the two of them, there was no one to make fun of her oversized front teeth. Jay's were just as bad as hers. "I still... remember. I remember being alone on that ship." She slumped back against the wall, lowering her head between her legs. She wrapped herself all the way around in her tail, as tight as she could.

It wasn't tight enough to keep the memory from replaying. "The alarms. Life support, engines, structural, reactor. I didn't have long to get into storage... but I knew I would probably be there a long time."

"You remember... dying?" Jay asked. "Nobody does."

"Technically... I guess so." She pressed up against him. "They don't call them cryocaskets for nothing. No heartbeat, no breathing, no brain activity. It's dead. They told me I wouldn't feel it... they lied. I felt it. So cold... breathing in water, but I couldn't get it out. Too weak to move. Squirming to escape, but there's nowhere to go. Cables holding on tight. Computer tells me to keep calm. Something sticks in my arm..."

She let go. "I had to do a lot... alone. I'm glad you came."

He hugged her again—tighter, but not as long. "I can't imagine... remembering when I died. Glad it doesn't work like that normally. It's not fair... going along with all that trauma." He stood up, helping her to her feet. "If you want to go down to Remedial, I'll go too. So you don't have to be alone."

"Down to..." She let go, then scooped up her computer from where she'd left it. "I'm not trying to forget! Remembering is important—that's what makes me brave." He followed her through the lab, back out into the uncomfortably huge hallway of the ring. There was already a little cart waiting for them, door open.

She was the first one in. This car was smaller than the last one—built for templates their size. The chairs didn't even have to adjust.

"Guess that makes sense. Forerunner needs the best, even if they're a traumatized squirrel."

The door shut behind them, and the car rolled away. "That is correct, Jay. Though I would add that it's against my ethical obligations to allow my residents to suffer in that way. None of you will acquire new trauma while researching here."

But not the ones living outside? Even through a camera, Kit knew pain when she saw it. Sarah hated living out there bad enough that she wanted to convince Kit to stay forever.

Maybe she would, once she satisfied her curiosity. But until then, she had more mysteries to solve.