Synth

The children’s tablet that Constance had possessed basic programs which allowed a person to use their fingers to create a picture using basic tools. Using simple gestures, one could make and resize primary shapes before using a fingertip to add lines or details. The process was simple enough, and the way Constance explained how to use the tools made TO believe that this was something commonly taught to children on Arkane. When Constance showed TO the way to make different shapes and how to choose different colors, it was as though she were pretending to be a teacher herself. Patiently, she led TO through the simple process of creating a fish, followed by a six-legged feline, an old-fashioned spaceship, a planet with rings around it, some kind of water-flower, and a simple robot. When that was all done, she then told TO to draw anything they’d like.

“Anything?” TO asked, looking at the newly cleared vast blank space before them.

“Yup!” Constance said, still beaming, “When I used to go to school, they’d tell us that we could draw or read if we finished our work, and we could draw whatever we wanted to!”

“Oh.” TO said as they looked at the screen. If she had told them to draw a city or a ship or had given them some kind of direction, this would make more sense. “You go to school to learn, right? As far as I understood, school for children was like training for us, just at a slower pace and...” they trailed off, unsure how to explain to her how much higher the stakes had been for them in training, “And with much more patient trainers. Are you telling me they’d let you do whatever you wanted when you were supposed to be learning?”

“Well, if we got our work done, of course, they’d let us have fun!” She said as she frowned at TO, her tail flicking behind her as her ears and head-fin seemed to tense, “Why, what did you do when you finished all your work?”

“More work?” TO said, feeling their own ears dip in response. Of course, if they finished the work assigned, they’d receive more work, so they’d improve faster. It made perfect sense to TO.

“That’s not fair.” She said, “If you finish your work, you deserve to have free time!” she paused, her fin quivering and her eyes squinting slightly as she considered the situation, “Unless you rush your work just to get it done. If you do that, then you don’t get free time, and you actually have to do your work right while everyone else gets to play.”

“Well, that makes some sense...” TO said. They themself had always put everything they had into their work back in training, but there had been some who perhaps didn’t work as hard as they could have on certain days and the punishment for that had, of course, been more work. Any perceived lack of effort would be treated either with extra work in the specific area , or with a few shifts in the underbelly of the training center with the maintenance crew.

“What did you do for fun when you were little?” She asked, “I mean, even when you were in school, they let you play a bit, right?” She suddenly perked up, forgetting about the tablet, and drawing, “What games did you play when you were a kid? Were there any cool synth games!” she looked at TO’s wings. “I bet you played in the air a lot, right? I’d love to fly, and there are wings you can get that actually let you fly, but daddy said-“

She stopped talking suddenly as though her thoughts hit a brick wall, and her whole demeanour changed. Over the course of the last half hour or so, Constance brightened up as she showed them how to draw on the table. The process was so slow that TO hardly notice it. However, the way the energy and joy suddenly seemed to drain for her at the moment she mentioned her father was a harsh reminder of what had happened to her in only the last few days.

If it were DH, GiDi, or Avery, they’d have some idea of how to help, but with Constance, they weren’t sure. They had no problem with the child, but they knew very little about her. All they knew was that she wasn’t afraid of TO like some of the others were, that her father had died, she liked to draw, and wanted to fly.

“... Why don’t you show me how to just draw something?” they asked. “You could show me... maybe what you would look like if you could fly?”

The bit of joy and the little spark in her eyes was gone, but she nodded and began to draw shapes on the screen. She started with putting down the blue-green of Arkane’s sky, a bright yellow circle for the sun, and some grey rectangles which TO assumed was supposed to represent the buildings of Okoia.

TO was just starting to relax when she spoke again, “What happened to my dad?”

TO’s ears pinned back, the faint blue color draining from then until their skin was almost white, “I thought Pearla told you-“

“Auntie Pearla said that there was an accident.” She said, “And... that dad died.” Her fingers stilled on the screen. “I caught a Linneas once. I brought her home and asked dad if I could keep her. He said ok, but I had to keep her in a box.” her little hand curled into a fist on the tablet, “I gave her food, and water, and I said goodnight and I petted her and everything, but when I got up in the morning to check on her she was curled up into a ball and wouldn’t move. Dad said she died, but didn’t know why. He said that sometimes that just happens.”

TO had no idea, offhand, what a Linneas was. They assumed it was some kind of animal, a small creature perhaps considered a pest on Arkane, and that Constance had caught it wild. In that kind of situation, there were many reasons why a creature might suddenly die: shock at being displaced, food or water they weren’t used to, or even an unseen injury acquired during the chase.

“But auntie Pearla didn’t say that dad had just died. Pearla said it was an accident. She wouldn’t tell me what happened.” Constance looked up. “When dad gave me to the other man, he said he was going to check on you.” Her eyes were bigger than before, shining with held-back tears. “Did you see what happened?”

‘Yes, I saw what happened. Your father got shot trying to help me, and I didn’t do a thing to help him after that.’ that was the truth that TO knew, but not only did they not want to explain that right now, but they also didn’t think it’d be very helpful. They also didn’t want to lie. As they thought about it, they realized that Pearla had been kind of right. It had been an accident, with Mark showing up unexpectedly, and Kei shooting him because they thought that Mark was actually DH, coming to save TO.

That wasn’t the complete story. It wasn’t even close to the complete story, but even if they had been entirely detached from the actual event, TO wasn’t sure they could relay what happened to Constance. Thinking about it all now brought up stark images of the event, of the blood and pain, and the feel of Kei’s skin giving way under their claws. They could feel it, and it was just as visceral as any other time in the past when their mind forced them to see and smell and hear the memories of such things. Now they felt detached from it once more. No, that wasn’t quite right. They once more felt removed from themself. The only way they could really describe it was as though they were sitting down and watching a show, but the show was the reality happening around them.

“TO?”

The sound of Constance softly whispering TO’s name pulled them back, and when they looked down, they could see what they perceived as concern in her young ears.

“A-Apologies.” TO said.

“Are you ok?”

“I am,” TO said, “And... Pearla isn’t necessarily wrong.” They frowned, and turned as much as they could so they were looking directly at Constance. “It was an accident. Nobody wanted to hurt your parent.” Their ears flicked down, “I... was determined to get him on the ship, but...” But the desire to stop Kei, to grab them and pull them down and rip them apart to keep them from hurting DH was far stronger than their desire to help Mark. “But he got hurt, and he died.”

“What kind of accident?” She said, her voice a whisper.

“... Someone was trying to hurt me, and hurt DH.” They finally said, “And... they thought for a moment that your father was DH, and shot them instead.”

“…Did it hurt?” She asked.

TO glanced up, distracted by movement to the side, and saw DH approaching the bed. They sat down on the edge, leaning forward slightly as their ears dipped. “Constance.” They whispered. “I’m. sorry.” Their ears dipped. “I didn’t get there fast enough. Your parent...” They trailed off for a moment and looked away, their ears low and the beginning of tears forming at the corners of their eyes. “If I had gotten there sooner, maybe I could have done something-“

“It wasn’t your fault!” TO said, their own concerns over the incident fading in light of the guilt DH carried which TO hadn’t even known about, “If I hadn’t been there, then Mark wouldn’t have come and-“

“You had to go!” DH said, “You had no idea why Lake hadn’t shown up on the ship. It was possible that he had gotten hurt!”

“Well, if I asked Mark to stay at the intersection-“

“He’d still have found out what was happening once Lake passed by.” DH said, “If I had just run a little faster-“

“I know some first aid I could have-“

“...who shot dad?”

Constance’s voice was quiet among the arguing, yet there was a coldness to it which was so harsh compared to her normal tone, so surprising coming from a child that it silenced TO and DH immediately. Both were silent for a while until Constance looked up again, her eyes narrowed and a trail of tears going down her cheeks. “Who shot my dad?” She repeated.

“Another synth,” TO whispered, “One who we called Kei.”

“Are they on the ship?” She asked.

“They’re not.” DH said, “They ran away just as I got there. I saw them turn a corner, but... I didn’t chase them. We were more worried about TO and your parent. GiDi and I ran in to check on them both and by the time we realized your parent–your father–was... gone, then Kei was gone.”

TO hadn’t realized that, hadn’t realized how close DH and GiDi had been when Kei made the decision to run rather than fight TO further. They wondered how much the two had heard of TO’s shouted words to Kei, and to Mark.

“...I hate them.” She said, her voice even softer now, “I hate them.” Her voice grew stronger as she spoke. “I’ll hate them forever!” She shouted the last words, slamming her fists on the bed as she spoke. For a brief moment, she was still and quiet, her hands and shoulders shaking, her ears and fins pinned back against her head.

Then she shook. Her ears dipped, her fins seemed to go limp, and she collapsed on the bed in helpless sobs. For a moment, TO and DH only looked at each other, unsure what to do, hesitant in their interactions with a strange civilian. Still, it felt wrong to TO to simply let her sob without doing something, so they did the only thing they could think of. Gently, they pulled her close and let her cry on them until exhaustion and sorrow pulled her to sleep.