A spread of overlapping red holopanels was what Kaelan saw when he finally woke up. They obscured his vision but not his other senses: he was laying on something coarse and the air smelled acrid. His eyes flittered from left to right, but it was no use. With a series of rapid swipes, he closed the last remaining holopanels the spread across his field of view.

What he saw made no sense. Organic matter. Brown, frayed, and gnarled — organic matter. Organised into a cone of overlaps like some sort of scavenger’s nest. Where were the space alloys? The crystal composites? He noticed a weak light poured in through a jagged gap covered by some sort of brown fabric. At least fabric looked familiar if not in badly need of repair. But why was it hanging like that? What a terrible substitute for a wall.

Weird.

Kaelon pinched his finger and thumb to shut his holograms off. He needed to trust his own eyes and ears, just like he did on the streets of Sector 11. It was clear that he was alone, but he didn’t know for how long. Sitting up, he quickly checked his arms and legs.

Two arms, two legs. Fingers. Good.

Hesitating a moment, he lifted the waistband of his pants to sneak a peek and exhaled in relief. Everything was where it should be. Since nothing appeared to be missing, he decided to survey his surroundings a little more, but nothing really stood out.

Where am I? Am I dreaming? Am I . . . dead?

No, he couldn’t be dead. Dead people were recycled and converted into fabric for clothes and shoes.

I must be dreaming!

Kaelon rubbed his eyes, they were not as itchy as before, but he was glad to be able to give them a good rub. It had been a while since—

“Ah, you’re awake!” an old voice spoke.

Kaelan leapt up, pressing himself against the wall as he screamed. He couldn’t understand a word the creature said, but it hobbled closer making him flinch. The silhouette lit a small fire off to the side in a stone encasement and sat on a short cylinder of organic material. The light flickered across the figure, revealing the face of an old woman peering at him from under a broad hood adorned with what looked like little stone spirals.

Realising he must look ridiculous clinging to the wall, Kaelan chose to ignore her disproving expression and must the dignity to sit down on the coarse padding he’d been laying on. With a sigh, he pinched his thumb and forefinger bring his holographic displays back to life.

“Environmental scan. Execute,” Kaelan intoned.

A chimed sounded.

The woman cocked her head at his words. “Strange, I don’t know this language.”

[Scan complete]

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Kaelon studied the information on the screens before him, he swiped and gestured, and the holograms filled his ears with pings in response.

The old woman watched him carefully, trying to puzzle out what he trying to tell her or show her.

“So, she’s an indigenous species of advanced age . . . a human?”

[Negative. The humanoid is a non-citizen . . . Classification has been recorded under flora & fauna . . . Proceed with caution]

Kaelon squinted his eyes at her before diverting his attention, which made the woman baffled.

“You’re a strange one,” she remarked.

Time passed as they sat facing each other. The woman spoke and Kaelon ran analyses. She talked for hours with increasingly enthusiastic gestures. At first, Kaelon suspected she too was interacting with holograms, but he quickly dismissed it. She was too primitive and not much better than a scavenger. After a time, a wide subtitle panel began to translate her words in real time. The AI included in his implants was highly advanced. While it had never been intended for this sort of use, it was more than capable of translation with enough data.

“And so, that is how the jade rabbit came to live on the moon,” she finished.

Kaelon chose that moment to reply. “Why would a hologram live on a moon? It’s too far away to render let alone maintain,” he spoke hesitantly, reading the translation he typed using a holographic keyboard panel. It was a solution he’d come up with himself.

The old woman was speechless for a second. “You can understand me!”

Kaelan’s eyes read from left to right before he nodded. “I’m . . . learning.”

The woman clasped her hands and smiled. “Wonderful! I’m afraid I don’t understand your language or what a h-hologram is—"

“That’s okay you’re an animal, it isn’t expected.”

The woman blinked in surprise. “Well, you’re still learning so we’ll let that one go.” She stood up and stretched her slightly bent back. “It is late, are you hungry?”

Kaelan was surprised by her kindness. “A nutrient cube would be wonderful.”

“I don’t know what a nutri-whatever is, but I make a tasty soup!” she chortled.

Baffled by this soup word, Kaelon could only nod. He had to eat.

The old woman smiled at him. “I’ll whip something up right away! Err . . . I’m sorry I didn’t ask before, but what is your name?” she asked.

“Kaelon.”

“That’s a strange name in these parts, but your mother must have chosen it with love.”

“My caretaker bot named me.”

“Uh, yes. Well, I don’t quite understand but it doesn’t matter. You may call me Old Ma.” Her wide smile reached her eyes, making her entire face wrinkle before she turned away to riffle through baskets and a couple of pots.

Kaelon could only stare at her in quiet horror.

“What is the meaning of the face crinkling like that?” he enquired of his AI in his own language.

A chime sounded.

[Scanning database . . . Error! Unable to connect . . . Activating secondary systems . . . Probability of genetic degradation is 94% . . . non-citizens do not have access to nanites to maintain their body composition]

Kaelon looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. Animal or not, the old woman was generous when she didn’t need to be, and it pained him that she did not benefit from nanites. Everyone he ever knew had nanites, even scavengers. He realised he was becoming fond of her. She reminded him of his caretaker bot before it was taken away and recycled. Of course she wasn’t very efficient, but that in itself was endearing.

When she came back to him, she held up a bowl filled with a strange liquid from which small wisps of vapour escaped. Kaelon took it and stared at it. It reminded him of Reject Girl.

Old Ma sat on the wooden stump, holding a bowl of her own. She raised it to him, and he copied her gesture. She nodded in approval, the shells adorning her hood clattering softly, and brought the bowl to her mouth.

Kaelon flinched at the sound of her slurping. It sounded just like a bodily waste removal device. He swallowed nervously. This was going to take some time to get used to.