“He’s waking up,” Walter said.
“Of course, he’s waking up,” Marigold replied.
Maxwell blinked his eyes a few times and then sat up, relieved to see a demon and giant frog looming over him. He was back in his bed at the Spa. It wasn’t a pleasant place to wake up, but he wasn’t dead or deleted, so overall, it was a net positive.
“I’m alive?”
“Defying all medical opinion,” Marigold said.
The sound of tiny rotors from the foot of the bed announced the presence of IT hovering in view.
“You’re a vacuum cleaner again, and you’re flying,” Maxwell said.
“Neat, right? How are you feeling?”
“I’m OK, I think. Everything’s still a little fuzzy.”
“That should fade. The Scholar didn’t have the chance to delete very much before you trapped him in the memories of the Intermittent Sea,” IT said. “Good job, by the way.”
“But why am I here at all? Is the world still stalled?”
“Later, Maxwell, we can talk about it when you’re better,” Marigold said.
“I think I’d like to know now.”
Marigold looked over at Walter who sighed and looked back down at Maxwell.
“Did the Scholar tell you why you ended up here?” he asked.
Maxwell nodded. His neck was stiff and painful, and he regretted the effort.
“Yes, well, this may be a little difficult for you to hear, but IT reached out to me shortly after you lost consciousness. Marigold was still unconscious, and the decision fell to me. There’s no easy way to tell you, but we had to follow through with what the Scholar was planning to do. We had to delete you. It was the only way to ensure the universe didn’t collapse.”
Maxwell took a moment to process the information.
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“But I’m still here.”
“That’s thanks to me,” IT said. “The Scholar was going to delete you wholesale, but that thing was just a hungry monster looking to get to a meal as soon as possible. I thought to myself, ‘Isn’t there a better way, a subtler way?’ and there was. It was tricky, but I went through and systematically deleted you from the Frontend, everything you did, the memories of everyone that knew you, all of it. It took forever, but I did it. You were gone from the Frontend, but I didn’t let the System touch the memories in your current body.”
“What does that mean?” Maxwell asked.
Walter sucked in air through his closed teeth. “It means you’re gone. Gone from the Frontend. You can’t go back home because you were never there to begin with.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
Maxwell thought about this for a moment, and though he thought he should feel sad or indignant, he only felt relief that he was still here at all, even if it meant living out the rest of his life as the ghost of someone who never was.
“So, what now?” Maxwell asked.
“You’re not upset?” Walter said.
“I’m not sure how to feel, but I don’t think I’m upset.”
Walter smiled. “Oh, excellent, because I had to clear it with the Bureau, but they agreed to let you stay as long as it doesn’t affect processing any further.”
“You’re one of us,” IT said, lowering itself to the bottom of Maxwell’s bed.
“Yes,” Walter agreed. “Marigold spent the morning arranging accommodation for you. You’re free to stay with either of us until it's set up, and when you’re ready, we might have a job for you,” Walter said.
“What do you mean?”
“The higher-ups have decided that a caretaker’s responsibilities should now include taking care of things that fall through the cracks,” Walter said. “More of a figurative caretaker.”
"Things like me?” Maxwell asked.
“Or creatures like us that end up in the Frontend. Whatever the Scholar did damaged the boundary between the front and back. Marigold’s going to help clean things up, and I’m going to help. They’ve realized there’s a need to verify the accounting system in person, so I’m going to be logging and tracking Marigold’s cases. She put in a good word for me.”
Walter looked over at Marigold and beamed.
“IT’s going to help too, and if you’d like to join us, it would be more than welcome.”
“Is that OK?” Maxwell asked.
“It seems nobody’s sure what to do with you. We thought this might give you some purpose,” Walter replied. “What do you think?
“I guess, maybe—yes. Though, I’m not sure if I’ll be much use.”
“I’m sure you will,” Walter said.
Maxwell noticed Marigold had remained quiet throughout the exchange. There was sadness in her smile.
“Are you OK?” Maxwell asked.
“I’m fine, but I said I would get you home, and I couldn’t. Now you’re stuck here.”
“You did the best you could. You all did. Besides, it's not like there was much of a life for me to get back to, anyway.”
Marigold smiled and patted him on the head like a dog.
Maxwell hasn’t lied to Marigold. He was feeling excited about the future, and he was happy that he didn’t have to worry about all the drudgery that made up his old life, or perhaps more accurately, he felt strangely content that he no longer had a life worth worrying about at all.