I awoke to find an arm draped over my side, while something warm and soft snuggled behind me.

Uh-oh.

… right. Explanation time again.

Remember when I mentioned I don’t actually need to sleep? While that’s true, I can simulate it when I choose to. That might not make much sense at first, seeing how it’s technically lost time, but there are several reasons why I’ll occasionally indulge. Dreams, for example. It’s a simple enough program, mimicking the random firing of neurons of REM-state in a corporeal brain. I’ve actually gained some fascinating insights from dreaming that I might not have otherwise, so I try to schedule a session now and then.

Only there’s another reason for it that’s a bit more mundane. Scene changes.

It’s one thing to pop in and out of another’s domain, like when I exited Chris’ Japanese freehold. Really, it’s no different from exiting a building in the physical realm, because in situations like that, you expect your perspective to shift.

But when you’re playing out a scene… for whatever reason… when it’s over, the perspective shift can jar, so much so that it completely ruins the illusion. Waking up after a good night’s sleep has long been an analogy for renewal, of facing a bright new day free of the troubles of the previous one. The illusion holds as you look back with fond memories.

It also spares you that whole awkward “Morning After” conversation, when the cold light of day throws a bucket of water onto what had been an incredibly intimate moment, leaving all involved uncomfortable and mumbling with embarrassment. Waking up with them gone avoids that, nice and clean, no “Walk of Shame” by either party.

I mean, it’s not like they’re real, or anything.

… Shut up. I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t ask you.

So when I felt Raven still nestled against me, when by all rights she should have been long gone, I knew something was up. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I slipped out from the sleeping bag and stood up, shivering in the morning chill. The campfire had burned down to a few smoldering embers. I found my pants and tugged them on before locating my shirt, just as Raven yawned and stretched like a cat before gracing me with a languid smile.

“Morning lover,” she purred.

I spent a few moments debating my options, before finally throwing caution to the wind. “Why are you still here?” I asked, somewhat peevishly.

She arched her brow. “Why are you?” she threw back at me.

I rubbed my face. “I’m not having this conversation,” I grumbled, triggering the mental command to send her back to her digital waiting room.

Raven didn’t move.

What the hell? I tried it again.

Still nothing.

“Okay, something is very wrong here,” I said nervously, as I began running a diagnostic on my software. The answer came back seconds later, No Errors Detected.

“... I don’t believe this,” I sighed, rolling my eyes.

“Believe what?” Raven asked, as she started hunting for her clothes.

There was no reason for her to still be here, and the fact I couldn’t just dismiss her was worrying. There had to be some sort of glitch in my subsystems, something that wasn’t showing up on a standard scan. Normally I’d connect with one of the Clan’s programming experts when something like this cropped up, but since Chris had excommunicated me that wasn’t an option. My own skills don’t lie in that direction, so I was unsure what to do next.

“So what’s for breakfast?” she asked me while pulling on her boots. “I’m starved.”

I just shook my head, bowing to the inevitable. “Raven, here’s the thing,” I told her as I hunkered down beside the bedroll, “I’m kind of in the middle of something, so this is where we part ways. I promise I’ll tell you all about it next time we hook up.” I rose and turned to leave, only to go sprawling as she planted a boot on my backside and knocked me to the ground. Rolling onto my back, my eyes widened as she pounced, landing on top of me as the knife magically appeared in her hand.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she snarled. “I’m not some five buck hump you picked up on the docks. So unless you’re prepared to lose something I know you’re fond of, I’m not going anywhere.” Raven glared, daring me to disagree.

“This can’t be happening,” I mumbled, as my mind raced to find a solution. In all my years, I’d never heard of a situation like this one, leaving me without an SOP to fall back on. I mean, I could step out of the simulation and leave her behind, though I’d have to completely rewrite her program if I went that route. No way would she forgive me for that one, and while I was fairly certain she couldn’t actually make good on her threat, I didn’t care to put it to the test.

Deep breath.

Okay then… if I couldn’t end the simulation, and stepping out of it was problematic, what did that leave? I mean, what was I supposed to do, drag her along while I investigated the Chell?

…

… Al, come on, you can seriously be considering this? It’s absurd!

… Well, short of a better idea…

… I mean, I could. It’s not like she takes up a lot of file space, though I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain all this to her. I’d run the Raven scenario in multiple settings, just tweaking the details to fit each scene. Last night she’d been a 50s biker chick, before that a swashbuckling pirate queen, and before that a Bolshevik revolutionary. I’d just file off the serial numbers and insert the new setting, and off we went. But this… if I took her along, I’d have to tell her everything. All of it.

… Including the fact she was just a simulation herself. I don’t know how she’d react to that bit of data. Taking a deep breath, I held up my hands. “Okay, you win,” I told her. “You’re welcome to come along, but…. there’s a lot I have to tell you.”

“Tell me then,” she answered, before reluctantly sheathing her blade.

Mulling that one over for a second, I shook my head. “On second thought, it’d be easier just to show you,” I explained, pulling her close as I craned my neck for a kiss.

Initiating File Transfer.

The kiss was symbolic, but I needed a solid connection to transfer the relevant files. Raven was blissfully unaware of many things by design, including the current state of humanity’s affairs. I wasn’t looking for intellectual discourse or to traipse down memory lane with her; she existed solely for helping me release pent up… whatever. I didn’t know how she’d handle a sudden influx of knowledge like this, but it seemed I had little choice.

I had to bring her up to speed regarding my mission... and who she really was. A spark, and then suddenly she stiffened in my arms, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as hundreds of exabytes of data were dumped into her program. Raven twitched as her program assimilated the information, her eyes slowly coming back into focus as her program settled back down.

Stroking her hair, I asked softly, “Are you okay?”

Her eyes were still glazed as she looked at me, blinking rapidly. “Wow ... your world sucks,” she whispered in amazement, still struggling to center herself.

“Tell me about it,” I sighed.

She shook her head, fighting her way to clarity, before finally staring me in the eye. “Okay, you bastard, I get it,” she said at last. “What’s the plan?”

“Take a moment,” I suggested, “it’s a lot to process.”

“You take a moment,” she sneered, jumping to her feet and brushing herself off. “And I’m still waiting for breakfast.”

“You realize we don’t actually need to eat, right?” I winced. What the hell was I thinking? Bringing Raven along on an investigation, especially after being shunned by the Clan? Was I nuts?

“Tell that to my stomach,” she growled as she started rolling up her sleeping bag. “Maybe it’s a… what do you call it?... an affectation, but I’m still hungry.”

“Right,” I sighed. “Any preferences?”

“Bacon, eggs, potatoes, black coffee, and pancakes,” she answered promptly.

“You got it,” I told her, as I snapped my fingers. She stared at me, confused, until her nose began twitching. “Do I smell…?”

“Look behind you,” I suggested.

Raven turned, staring at the picnic table that hadn’t been there two seconds earlier, now loaded with breakfast fare. She moved toward it slowly, as if she were in a dream, before reaching out tentatively and taking a piece of bacon from the plate, munching on it thoughtfully as if she were waiting for it to vanish. When she finally accepted the only place it would disappear to was her stomach, Raven threw back her head and laughed before she sat down and started digging in. I sat down across from her and took my plate, sipping my coffee while she wolfed down her morning chow.

“So all you have to do is snap your fingers, and you can make anything appear?” she asked finally once she’d finished.

“Pretty much, yeah,” I shrugged.

“And yet you can’t get rid of me,” she leered, teasing me. “I wonder why that is?”

“Must be a glitch in the program somewhere,” I sighed. “As soon as I figure out where it is…”

I didn’t get to finish the sentence. Raven punched me in the face. It rocked my head back, and it hurt, goddamnit!

“You asshole!” she shouted. “You’re just gonna sit there and say how you can’t wait to get rid of me? Do you want your fucking ass kicked?”

“... Ow…” I moaned, rubbing my nose. “And no, not really.”

“Then quit being a douche,” she sneered.

I held up my hands in what I hoped was a placating gesture. “My mistake,” I told her, “won’t happen again.”

“Good,” she sniffed, her nostrils flaring. “And you never answered my question.”

I replayed the conversation in my head and came up blank. “Um… what question was that again?” I asked her.

“What’s. The. Plan?” she repeated with emphasis.

“Oh… right,” I nodded. “I’m not sure,” I explained. “I need more intel, but how am I going to get it? I don’t have any contacts, any leads, and getting anywhere near the Troika is a one-way trip these days.” I shook my head, thoroughly frustrated.

She considered the problem, mulling it over. “Think you’re looking at it wrong,” Raven said at last.

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re stuck on the idea of finding them, digging them out of hiding, when what you should do is figure out a way to make them come to you,” she said smugly. “Let them do all the hard work.”

I stared, dumbstruck. Now, why hadn’t I thought of that?

Raven cackled. “Not bad for a figment of your imagination, am I right?”

“... I never said that,” I stammered, now even more ill at ease.

“Bullshit,” she snorted. “You created me to be your plaything, someone to call up when you needed to blow off steam and get your ashes hauled. I suppose I should be thankful. You programmed me with some spunk and didn’t make me into some bubble-headed bimbo.” She folded her arms, glaring at me. “Only I’m not feeling too fucking generous at the moment. Be thankful I’m helping you at all.”

I covered my face. “I swear to Terra, this is my worst fucking nightmare come to life,” I groaned.

“What did you just say?” Raven snapped, rising from the picnic table.

I backed away frantically. “That’s not what I meant; I swear!” I said panicking, trying desperately to close her program once more... and getting the same result.

Fuck. I was stuck with her, at least until I could figure out what the problem was. Had someone hacked her? Some sort of incompatibility issue, perhaps? A conflict between current and older versions of the program? Or maybe…

“You’re wasting your time,” she said matter-of-factly. “You keep thinking it’s a software issue, and you couldn’t be more wrong.”

I blinked at that. “How did you…?” I began.

“Oh please,” she said, dismissing me with a roll of her eyes, “not that hard to figure out. That’s how you look at everything, minor glitches that just need a little tinkering, when all the while you’re busy ignoring your actual issues.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I fired back at her, lashing out. I was tiring of a glorified entertainment program with delusions of grandeur treating me like I was some naughty schoolboy.

Her lip curled up into a knowing smile. “I’m not still here because of a software error, genius, I’m here because of a wetware error.”

“What wetware?” I said, exasperated.

“God, you can’t be this dim,” she muttered, before looking me in the eye. “Your wetware… your subconscious, to be precise. I’m still here because you want me here.” She cackled at that. “Maybe even need me to be. I mean, that’s just sad, when you think about it. Paging Doctor Freud!” she called out, before dissolving in a fit of mocking laughter.

… I don’t need this.

“That’s crap,” I sneered. “If my brain were that messed up, something would have shown up long before now. You, you’re just a glitch, and as soon as I figure out where it is, I’m deleting your fucking program.” I glared at her, my fists on my hips. I was so done with this conversation.

Plucking the knife from her boot, she fingered the blade. “I’d like to see you try,” she hissed dangerously.

It was an idle threat. She couldn’t really hurt me, and although I was having issues closing out her program, this was still my domain. Nothing happened here without my say-so, and even if she dropped an asteroid on my head, I’d easily shrug it off. Oh sure, she could irritate me, even bloody my nose, but that was all. If I wanted to, I could take that knife from her and use it to slash her throat, which by the operating system in my domain would kill her, ending her program.

So why didn’t I?

Look, it’s complicated, all right? I’ve fought many a digital foe over the years; storming Omaha Beach, dispatching villains with both blade and rapier wit alongside the Musketeers, playing both ends against the middle during the Chinese Warring States period… all those, and a thousand more simulations besides. I don’t flinch at the sight of blood, especially when it’s not real. But killing Raven, stabbing her to death after all we’ve been through together… man, it just felt wrong. I wasn’t sure about all that psychobabble, but I knew that murdering her in cold blood wasn’t an option.

I’m not that far gone. Not yet anyway.

Holding up my hands, I tried sweet reason instead. “How about we call a truce?” I suggested. “Whatever’s going on here, we’ll figure it out, eventually. Until then, what do you say we make the best of it? You put down the blade, and then you can help me plan my next move with the Brotherhood. For my part. I’m sorry for what I said. I was just surprised, that’s all.” Smiling, I held out my hand. “Honestly? I’d be grateful for the company.”

Raven eyed me with suspicion before finally sliding the dagger back in its sheath.

“Apology accepted,” she nodded at last.