I wake up when I feel the uncomfortable feeling energy being forced into my batteries through my back. I feel groggy for some reason, my brain taking time to wake up. “Hmph,” I groan. “How long was I out.” My sensors are only beginning to fire so I cannot see well.

“Just wait Kel. You were lower than I thought and this really isn’t going to be enough.” Sergeant Jacobs’ voice comes through clearly. I just lay down; even my music seems to have shut itself off; scan completed at least. I just lie there like a limp noodle as my back itches with the cheap power flow.

“Done,” he says finally. “Power up, but not fully. None of those sensors to start.” I do as he commands and feel myself lightening as everything that was once off turns on. I give myself a leisurely stretch and try to sit up.

“Give it a moment. Turns out your secondary battery was under twenty percent.” He gently pushes me back down. “Glad to see you’re feeling better at all though.”

“Oh, with all the stuff you don’t bother with I figured you’d assume I just had meat envy,” I tease. “Now you can feel free to let me back up.”

“No Sergeant. This little thing, “ he taps some machine hidden out of view by the bed, “could only fill up that secondary battery. I want you to just hold back a bit. I ended up requisitioning another one but I don’t know how long it will be until it gets here. This one only took an hour but I expect the next will be some time. Just sit tight.”

“Did you guys ever figure out how much the second one holds exactly? I went without charge for a long time but that seems awfully low.”

“Don’t forget your fight when dreaming. As for the battery about half your primary. Impressive considering that it is literally a tenth the size though. Someone pushed the limits of battery technology passed what I thought.”

“That’s why we’re soldiers and they’re scientists. Not everyone is cut out for this life.” He just gives me the dirtiest look at that. I expect a meat pile could not see an inch of it but it is plain to me.

“Kel, you didn’t enlist either. I am not one to be teased lightly.” Yea, but he’s happy.

I slowly move forward and put my face near his. “You can’t make run or even leave this room. What are you going to do Frank?”

The answer, by the way, is to flip me over and pin my arms in a matter of seconds. “Leave you like this until you learn a little respect.”

“You know I’d never pull it around anyone else.” He has gotten me in a firm grip and has completely control of my ability to move. I’m graceful and lithe compared to him but talent is a burnt out candle compared the fires of perseverance that gave him the skills he has now.

“I do know that Kel. If you ever showed that level of insubordination in front of anyone I would not hesitate to deal with it. That’s why I am showing you I can out wrestle you instead of something far worse.” Dark thoughts flutter at the edges of my mind, but they cannot get in; I am too distracted. “Now are you going to be good or do I need to pull out come cable and make you stay put.”

“Good. I’ll be good.” I do not want to be tied up, especially not again.

“Keep it that way. I’m going to go back to working while I send Martinez to return this battery. Maybe the gesture will inspire them to send another more quickly.”

“Are they really that magnanimous?”

“What? Did someone play merry havoc with your dictionary? What does that ever mean?”

“Generous to someone weaker than you. I am pretty sure the doctor who worked on my heart after the accident decided to make me sound as pretentious as she does. It was sudden at first but it’s really worked its way in. Apparently it is getting worse.”

“Kel, that’s a joke right? Someone uploading files without your permission is bad, although that whole government property thing I guess. Still that just seems rude.” He is genuinely insulted by the concept. Sometimes I wonder if really is one of us, in his heart. Feels good to see him act more normally.

“I hope it’s a joke. I mean, my vocabulary exploded after the accident but other than that no idea what happened.”

“What accident was that by the way? I don’t recall you mentioning it.”

“Yea. I don’t really remember it well. I was at some sort of facility, on Pluto I think? The old research plant they shut down there and recently converted. I was there with some guys and then boom, I was at a repair facility. That was only a few days before we met. Aren’t you supposed to be working?” I am vaguely uncomfortable talking about it. It signaled the start of a ton of chaos in my life and I do not remember it well.

“Multitasking Kel. Concentrating is more effective, but did you say you were on Pluto not too long ago? Two weeks ago?” There is something about his voice, his posture, I cannot quite place.

“Pluto or Charon. I was not in the loop exactly where the place was.”

“You are one lucky bastard Kel and I mean that. Pluto was destroyed a few weeks ago; some sort of tiny high speed object, black hole I think, smashed into it at insane speeds and ripped the dwarf planet apart. I heard there were only a few on the thing at the time and that there were no survivors.”

“I guess I survived, but how? That doesn’t seem like something someone just lives through…” My memory is also of explosion and flame, not twisting and cracking. I’ve seen relativistic mining when I was working for the corps and there was little fire involved.

“Just be glad and I will be too. Relax and go over those scans results; tell me what you find.”

I bring the information up on my HUD. Unlike their programs my self-scan works alongside my hexadecimal based magic program to analyze the results and then hide them with the same thaumaturgical genius. Most everything is the same, yes my dictionary got a huge update that is slowly being incorporated into my regular speech patterns, yuck, but the “junk” data surprises me. The music hidden in there has grown from one to over three terabytes and there is a five terabyte file that is just labeled “Lavender Fields.” The rest is scattered around in memory and I would need to find a way to bring those together somewhere central to be able to begin to analyze them. I try to activate the Lavender Fields file but it won’t open. I lack the program needed to execute it; it’s a .oil file? What is a .oil extension? I check quickly check my internal manual it says it’s an image file, but the scan identifies it as an executable; isn’t that .exe? I suck at computers; I glad I am not one.

“So, some junk date, triple the music, and a file I cannot interact with and know nothing about but is fairly large. Five terabytes is pretty huge.” He shifts uncomfortably. “What’s wrong?”

“They didn’t give you an OS, did they?” Wha? Why would he even say that?

“It was hidden by my own techniques so I doubt it. I didn’t think you believed in such things.”

He ignored my statement and comes over to me and suddenly hugs me. “If you ever think it, tell me. If you ever think they put an OS, no matter what, tell me.”

“Okay, but Frank. Did that actually happen?” He just walks back, continuing to ignore me. Did that actually happen? It was a rumor; I believed it I mean, but it was still a rumor. The way he reacted though… I will need to figure out what is happening later.

“Where did those two terabytes of music come from? I’ll need to do an inventory of the individual files next.”

“Sounds good. I need to get back to work; speak up if you need me.”

My heart aches for him. The way he is reacting to everything has me fretting about what could have happened that made him feel like that, react like that. I start the scan of the music file names and, since I am here, also see about trying to assemble any of those highly fragmented files. What is a .exe but not a .exe, a .oil but not a .oil? I cannot help but think the Griogori were in my head at one, putting these things there. Didn’t the many armed one say something about not being able to help or give a gift or something like that. If so, then what is all this crap in my memory? Once I get an inventory I can make more sense of things at least and maybe even gain some, dare I say it, insight if I can assemble any of those broken files. I just go back to reclining and think really. The dark thoughts touch the edge of my mind, bringing a cyclone over the sea though and I begin to feel filthy again.

“Hey, Frank?”

“Yes.” His response is a bit terse.

“Sorry to bother, but is there any chance of a shower?”

“No. Between your energy levels and the tensions on the ship I cannot allow you to leave. Are you really feeling that badly?”

“Eh, I’m fi-.” I catch myself. “I will survive if I need to, but I wanted to check.”

“As soon as its safe I will let you.”

The time goes back to whittling away between music and watching the processes do their magic. Unfortunately doing so much actually drains my battery faster than I intended; the secondary is pretty small it seems. I shut off my HUD and lower the power of everything but those processes that I am actively running. The music helps pass the time as I just try to day dream the waiting away. So yea, no dreaming. The alarm warning me I was trying to do it go off. I forgot I was not my own man for a moment. Something occurs to me though: we can’t dream because of safety reasons. What keeps meat from thrashing around when they dream and why does that not work once we’re in a metal body? Something seems off.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. I just continue my not quite asleep routine as Frank goes to answer it, carefully turning my head to be able to see anything. It is someone I don’t recognize, a silver stripe above angled patches on their uniform. Sergeant Jacobs salutes him and lets him in; I make sure nothing reveals my status as awake.

“Is he asleep,” a feminine voice says.

“I don’t know Lieutenant. It is possible since his battery was so low he went back into a power saving mode. Should I check?” Sergant Jacobs’ voice is at its most professional when dealing with superior officers. He’s definitely a career marine.

“That is fine. If he is awake that just saves me having to repeat myself. We uncovered a plot by some of junior enlisted to punish, maybe even kill, him for his speech. Based on what they have said we doubt that they could have hurt him unless we was in a truly vulnerable state, but regardless Captain Eriks has made it clear that his safety is a major priority until tempers cool. He has asked Captain Salazar to officially order him to be guarded around the clock until we can root out any other malcontents but sent me to give you an immediate warning until arrangements can be made.” She sounds like a woman who is trying such a little too hard to care.

“Thank you Lieutenant. I will make sure that he is safe until I receive further orders.” Mmm. Professional as always. She leaves shortly thereafter.

“Did you hear that Kel? People want to kill you but have no idea how to do it.” I want to answer but I am not sure I have the energy. He strolls over casually and looks me over. “Did you burn yourself out again? Well hopefully that new battery will be here soon. Stay good until then.” He rolls me over and gently covers me in a blanket; a far more intimate gesture than I would have ever really expected, I think? “I’ll get you that shower yet Kel, just be patient for a little longer.”

I end up dropping energy levels further to try to make sure when the next dose comes in I can actually leave my bed but that means I am once again trapped inside my own body, two processes I cannot see going and music softly playing me a private show.

I am forced into awareness again by that same awful itching; I hate it. If I was an engineer I’d find a way to make this not terrible, I know it. Regardless of my personal feelings though the problem still is that I am here, I am itchy, and I just need to suck it up and suck it up I do. Once the itchiness ends I feel my body shaking and start to wake up again, this time with no grogginess. “Don’t over tax yourself Kel. You’re still not close to full.” Frank’s voice is not an unwelcome break from reverie.

“I will. Looks like the scan finished,” I turn inward and see what was discovered. “Yea, there’s a ton of artists I don’t recognize in here, just a ton. I am not sure who these people even are, Beethoven, Bach, Wagner? And why is Wagner marked with an asterisk? There’s nothing explaining that and nothing I can use to explicate it.”

“Kel, what does explicate mean,” Frank cuts me off.

“Ummmm, give me a second sorry. I need to see if I can find it or if I am just making things up…” A quick dictionary search later, “looks like it means to analyze and think about or make an idea about? Like you watch a vid, think about what it meant, and then decide based on that what you think the meaning is?”

“So, did you use it right?”

“I have absolutely no clue. I’m not really in charge of the word usage right now.”

Frank sighs a little, but it’s his smaller more sarcastic one instead of the whole body “I’m not quite defeated but please stop” I have seen a few times now. “Stay safe, okay? All these changes cannot be good for you.”

“Don’t sigh. With your help I will be okay.”

“I will always try to help, but to be clear there may soon come a time that I cannot be there all the time; you will be responsible for yourself all too soon I suspect.” I think his worry goes beyond what would be normal here. He did say that I had a chance though? I shouldn’t look too much into it; just take my time and relax AKA “do my job.”

“You teach; I learn; I grow; You worry less. One of the shattered files I put together… It cannot be assembled. All the pieces are together and nothing is missing but nothing seems to go together. I’m not really sure how to explain it actually.”

“Any chance that it’s active?”

“No idea but I would guess not unless this is programming that far beyond me.” Frank does not look to be satisfied with that response. His massive body is positively coiled and ready to pounce except he has no one to jump on. “Frank, tell me what’s going on. I’m here and frankly you’re making me scared.” He untenses a little.

“I am not sure not is a good time to talk about that. Keep a close eye, that’s all I ask. Let me know if anything weird ever happens though. Ever.” His voice bears a truly ominous finality to it; not ordering or begging but he says it like a law that cannot be denied. I’ve never heard anyone speak like that.

“I promise you that if anything suspicious happens with these files I will tell you.” I try to keep my voice firm but I am intimidated by the sheer strength of his… request is the wrong word here.

“Not just the files. Anything, You are your own man no matter what anyone tells you. Period.”

“I know that.” I do. No matter how hard the corps tried to strip me of it I was always me.

“Not when you are at your worst. I was there for a bit of it and it will always be there: people who break you to own you or just seize the opportunity. Just remember, in the end you are you and your own.”

“I know there’s a story here; when will you trust me enough to tell me?”

“Hmph.” He actually snorts. “Be a long time. No offense, but it will be a long time.” I trusted him with so much. Ergh. I mean, I had to trust him and he did help but on the flip side it is still annoying when there’s such a clear imbalance.

“I will leave it along for now then, but if you ever do want to talk I will listen.”

“That’s fine.” It’s so strange; this is like nothing that I experienced with Frank before. I told him I would drop it for now so I a going to.

I end up just lazing about and letting him work which is about as boring as you would expect. I am trapped in this tiny room by the backwards attitudes of others; why should I be caged by their ignorance while they walk free? It is so stupid: they are free to be wrong while I am a prisoner. This needs to change… freedom… freedom… Hrm. I want to know more, though, about what the Grigori call freedom. I begin to focus inside, shutting off my senses so I can meditate more easily. I went to that place once without them seeming to notice or care but this I want to go and make them answer questions.

The heavens above and below, galaxies whirling through cosmic infinity. “What makes you think you can ask anything of the Grigori, Youth?” The giantess who stands astride the two halves of the universe, the ultimate mistress of the vasty night. “You can come to Tír na nÓg on your own, but are you truly ready for understanding? Your soul is not yet White and only a true bearer of Purple can have a Red soul.” I try to talk to her, but I find myself unable to form the words. I do shoot her a look of hatred for what happened to me that night. Her response is a terrible laugh that strikes the stars of their places. “Not yet Youth. Rot. Rot and decay, melting into a Black sea of putrefaction until you beginning to gain the strength to truly stand amongst us. Only then can you answer the question that will open the gates of Zion and the road beyond. Dogma will seek to strike you down, filling everyone you touch with the deadliest poisons Life and Man have ever conceived. If you break you were never worthy of our oils, were you? Youth or elderly Prove yourself through the army of adversities.”

So that was incredibly helpful, wasn’t it? It still feels awful that she refused to help me. I don’t think she could have, but couldn’t she have tried? As I come back to the normal world I just curl up a bit and sit in the uncertain cradle of my mind. When I finally think to look at Frank I see that he’s just sitting there, probably doing a lot of work of some kind. This room is feeling smaller and emptier though since even my friend is ignoring me; I want to hold someone. Funny, that that should come back now. I remember being warned by my colleagues that the need to touch and hold someone will only get worse since no one will want to really do it. We need more affection than ever given the stress of conversion and the sudden crap society would take all over us and we could hardly help each other: we’re like bladed beasts circling each other but not coming too close. I never fully understood it but I do remember the simple solution they gave me: get over it; you’ll probably never get the affection you want so just abandon that part of you. Whatever keeps us somewhat distant though, Kies was able to override it in Davis. He nearly did so to me, he may have come to think of it. I just need to break at the wrong place or time and… would I end up like Davis? I am sorry I was not able to help him.

One thought washes away another in the frenzy of darkness, pulling me to crashing heights and then dragging me under the sea of misery. Davis, Kies, me, the Grigori, the angry personnel, the battle, my heart. The accident. Since the accident my life has been on a slippery slope to utter blech. Okay, so my vocabulary is not ready to accommodate my utter detestation of these current events… Oh come on! Well, that nonsense aside whatever really happened seems to just be spiraling out of control and any time I start to begin to feel I have made any progress the ship lurches under me. Even now, the one person I thought I could discuss any of this with is suddenly acting strangely and maybe even standoffish. Please, I need something to anchor me; I don’t want to be adrift in the interstellar void, in real life or in personal relations. I mean, I always spent my time functionally alone, I moved around so much that I never worked at making lasting associations of any kind, but that needs to stop and I am going to demand that life let me have a chance! Maybe. Or not. Honestly I am just blowing smoke here I think.

I look at Frank again and see that he’s staring at me. “Yes?”

“You were thrashing like you were giving an angry speech.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to distract you. Apparently going stir crazy at top-speed; cabin fever we called it. I was talking to myself I guess I lost control.”

“Is it only being trapped?”

“Yes Frank. It is only being trapped. Cabin fever sets in quickly when confined to quarters.”

“Experience with that?” he asks.

“Some? One captain was a particularly testy meatball, especially when it came to us. I swear I was confined to quarters sometimes for existing near him sometimes.” I shrug with my voice. “Not surprising but still annoying.”

“Glad I avoided that.”

“Did you really though? I am trapped here because of the who ‘cyborgs aren’t people’ bit.”

“Yes. You,” he emphasized the word, “are trapped here because the shuttle drivers are being uppity. I am free to move around.” I just shake my head my head in feigned annoyance. “I can see you know I’m not wrong Kel.”

“How can you read me so well? I’ve been a cyborg for ten years and cannot read us as well as you.”

“Leadership Kel. Leading is easier when you know how people are feeling.”

“Wait… How old are you? How long have you been a Sergeant?”

“Old enough to be one and long enough to be good at it.”

“Please?” I feel like there’s a wall slowly building up between us; he showed too much of himself and, for some reason, does not want me to see who he actually is.

“Why?” Is he multitasking or just trying to shut this conversation down? Terseness is something I am used to being a tactic for ending a conversation.

“Because I want to know more about you. Not in the creepy sense, for now to be honest, but because I want to try to be a better friend and spend time with you.

“Later, then.”

“Okay… I’ll be here.” Even though the conversation finally died Frank keeps looking at me. What does he see; what is he looking for? Uuuggghhh. I wonder if I can find that song again about miserable children? I feel like a need an upsetting song… Yup. There we go; the program literally read my mind. I’ll need to look up the name and artist later. Distracted as I am I still can see Frank staring at me. Tell me my friend, what are you looking for?