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There was, as it were, a tremendous struggle happening within Abe, between the silly weeb fantasist and the sophomoric Stoic, with more counselors tugging at these main antagonists: naivete being one of them, manhood another, primal desire, anger, and, strongest of them all, innocence. The battle was pitched, and their voices loud, but in the moment, they were unheard, though not unperceived. Abe knew full well something very important was happening, with many decisions with so much import rushing toward him.
Not every decision was wrong or right, but every one of them affected himself, and, as innocence loudly brayed at one point during the internal fracas, “YOUR FRIENDS!”
As he spoke to Alayna, he heard this turmoil percolating upward toward his consciousness:
> titstitsare literallyonyou youstupid shestrickingyou butwhatabout Sano Sano Sano shebelongstosomeonelseand you know ititstitstits whatdoesanime teach usaboutthismoment somanynerve endings welleverythingis ingood workingorderbut whatifshemovesherhandforward butt hahahaha ifyousuccumbtohertrickeryyourfriends will certainly die YOUR FRIENDS keepyourheadstoic head hahahahaha stoplaughingshestricking you literallypressingonyourbackwith hertitstitstitstits wait for Sano YOUR FRIENDS butthosetitstitstits are literallyonyou
“…So that’s about how it has gone so far: we killed a bear, escaped a helicopter attack, and then killed an elk. I think you shot Blake, but it didn’t do him in—”
“You think I shot him?”
“Aren’t you the blonde sniper?”
Alayna didn’t answer. He felt her breath rise and fall a few times. Abe spoke again, “I mean, it’s hot.”
“Hot?”
“The two of us, you know?” Abe said. “I helped bring down a helicopter, and you’re here in the wilderness, alone, with a sniper rifle. We were meant for this moment.”
“Mm…” she said adjusting her body against his, so that he felt everything. Everything. “Yes, I’m so warm, now.”
Abe resumed his narrative. “So we got Blake back to our HQ where he’s recovering, and then, after that weird boulder storm, we decided we might venture back to the bionics’ trailer, thinking to get propane and food supplies until we figured out who was trying to kill us all, and then we’d make overtures to anyone emerging as a friendly…”
“I really am lonely,” she said, “you know.”
Abe felt a wave of romance emerge where before there had been only survival instincts, of all sorts. He noticed a growing attachment to Alayna, here within only moments of forced intimacy. “No,” he said. “I don’t know.”
She didn’t say anything, but he felt that her face had grown warmer against his back, and then wet. She was crying. Her hand moved from his hip to join her other hand, and she clasped them together and pulled, so that their two bodies were pressed closer together.
They lay like that for a while, the two of them, while the tumultuous battle was still roiling just below his thoughts. Finally, she said, “Abe, how old are you?”
Abe said, “I might be eighteen. I don’t know. I was seventeen when we crashed, but my birthday was soon.”
“And you don’t know how many days you’ve been here.”
“No.”
“I’m nineteen,” she said. “They made me lonely.”
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“I’m sorry they made you like this.”
“So you understand?”
“Yes,” said Abe. “I understand. I think I understand a lot.” He rolled onto his back so that he could turn his face toward her. At first, he was embarrassed by his condition, but then he remembered that she wanted him to be this way, so he looked into her eyes to see how she reacted. They were red and puffy, proving to him that she had, indeed, been crying. She gazed into his. She was still wearing her nightclothes.
He said, “You’re a bionic, too, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” she said. “You knew that already.”
“Yes,” said Abe, “but so much of this is still guesswork. Well, for me, anyway.” He thought of Lars, about whom he had not told Alayna. He continued looking into her eyes, and he remarked to himself how odd the color was, amber as they were. “For example,” he said, “your eyes: they must be bionic.”
“They are,” Alayna said. “Nanobot-built and maintained, with regular upgrades, firmware and software updates. I’m like Geordie.”
“Who?”
“Geordie LaFarge? Star Trek? TNG?”
“TNG?”
“What are you? Some kind of weeb?” she said, smiling.
“Of course,” said Abe. He caught her smile, and his own face rose, which made hers radiate. “But you knew that, Trekkie.”
She draped herself over him, and she kissed him, right behind the ear, exactly where he had dabbed sandalwood essential oil. “Mm…” she said. “You smell good.”
“Not half as good as you do,” he said, putting his face in her hair. “But you were telling me about your eyes. They’re enchanting, even if they’re not real.”
“Oh, they’re real,” she said, pulling her head away so that he could see her eyes. They weren’t yellow, or even gold, but gold-flaked, and warm. They seemed in motion. “My eyes are populated. Millions of little machines in there, pulling all sorts of data out of the air, you could say, and running them back and forth to an electrical cable hot-wired into my optic nerve.”
“The fellas I’m with would be jealous,” Abe said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, we don’t have anyone who can scan or see in the dark or anything. We were just talking about it, I think.”
Alayna said, “You think?”
“Well, it’s funny,” said Abe. “I usually have a decent sense of time, and what day it is, and all that, but ever since we crashed, my time-senses are all screwed up.”
“Partly because you have nanobots at work in you,” Alayna said.
“What?”
“Yes, absolutely. I scanned you right away. I can see best in the dark—the scans, I mean. I scanned you from top to bottom, and, you, my handsome Japanese friend, are full of nanotech.”
“I’m a bionic?”
“Strangely, you don’t map like one of us.”
“Oh, so that’s why you kept me tied up last night!”
“Bingo, smart guy,” she said.
“But why—why the change of heart?” Abe asked. “Why…uh…why this?”
“I told you the truth, Abe,” Alayna said. “They made me lonely. We’re all always prototypes, toward a mass-production manufacturing goal, decades in the making. With vision like mine, I’m an affordable asset to test alone, to see how I function in complicated and changing situations, for applications like, uh, quiet collection. Once my learning is analyzed and processed, they’ll dump it into the algorithm of the next-best model.”
[https://embodimentandexclusion.files.wordpress.com/2023/12/2.3.jpg]
“But you’re a real human!”
“Ha!” she said. “I’ve read books! I’ve watched anime! They made me lonely! Humans aren’t made lonely!”
“Plenty of humans are lonely. Here you are, though, with me, right now.”
Tears welled into Alayna’s eyes, which made the amber machinery within them appear even warmer. Abe felt himself choke up with her. She said, “Why do you keep lying to me, then?”
Abe felt a tear trickle out of his own eye. “I lie to you for the same reason you tied me up last night, and why you’ll probably tie me up again tonight.”
“Here we are, though, together, right now,” she said.
“Then let’s not talk about my adventure or your makings. Let’s be human, together, and free.”
Alayna cried.
She renewed draping herself upon Abe’s body, this time moving her free hand to caress his torso, and moving her thigh over him to make everything else all right. Abe felt his heart begin to race, which made his headache return in some force. After some moments of that kind of intimacy, she touched the inside of his thigh. The thrill of her touch, and that kind of touch, sent lightning flashes through his head with every heartbeat. He gritted his teeth and tensed every muscle against crying out. It became too much for him, however, when she moved her head down to his chest and began to plant warm, wet, kisses all over him. Even though he very much wanted to continue with the romantic proceedings, he could not suppress the cry of pain.
“Ow!”
“I’ll stop,” she said.
“No!” he said, then, “Ow! Yes, you have to stop! My head!” He gasped for breath. “I think…I think…I’m going to pass out.”
He tried to rise from the futon, but as soon as he moved, blackness washed over him, and he collapsed back into the pillow. A dull red flash woke him up immediately. He was in torment from his injured skull.
“Help me,” he said. He tried to open his eyes, to see those wonderful amber eyes in motion, but even the faintest vision of light caused him severe anguish. “Please help me,” he said.
Through his enormous discomfort, he felt teardrops fall upon his chest and upon his face, hers, he presumed.
Do you wonder, Stoic, whether they are anime tears? Big, sloshy puddles of tears and snot? Oh, that was a nasty wave of nausea. Don’t throw up, Stoic. Not now. You might die if you throw up.
“Abe!” she was whispering.
“Acetaminophen!” he whispered.
He could hear her crying while she padded to the other end of the hut.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry.”
“I’m so lonely,” she said. “Don’t die, Abe! Please don’t die!”
What does she mean by that, Stoic? You know she’s deceiving you. The women: they have their tear reserves just to get what they want.
“My side,” Abe whispered, recalling all the things Lars had taught him about SHTF survival. “Make sure to roll me to my side. I’m going to pass out. Watch my breathing. I’ll be all right.” He didn’t have the strength to remind her to stop the onsen tamago, or that she could have it for herself, so he smiled against the throbbing in his mind.
He rolled over to his side and fought for consciousness until she could give him the medicine.
“Stay near me,” he said.
“Of course,” she said, “but you knew that already.”
Abe smiled again, and he let the unconscious world take him.
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