“Well, I wasn’t thrown in here,” I said, turning back to the wheel mechanism. “I jumped in myself. Though admittedly, I was being chased by a bunch of soldiers at the time.”
“Ha!” Maksim said. “They really should learn not to keep us as pets.”
I almost told him I wasn’t a pet. That I was from a human planetary enclave. He was so friendly, I wanted to trust him and explain that I was a soldier fighting the Superiority.
Yeah, that would be a bad idea if I wanted to steal a ship. Fortunately, I was slowly learning my lesson. Best not to tip off a captor to what I was planning. Of course, what if I was making a mistake by not trusting him? I’d been too suspicious of Chet. But not being suspicious enough of Brade had landed me in enormous trouble.
Man, I was crap at judging people, wasn’t I?
At any rate, the best option seemed to be to remain quiet about my skills. Maksim left me and went over to chat with his varvax friend, gesturing toward me periodically. The speed at which I did my work seemed to make them suspicious, and I realized that maybe I should have pretended to be more ignorant.
Regardless, I needed to contact M-Bot. So I decided to mutter and talk to myself a lot as I worked. It felt like a good idea to demonstrate to the others that I was constantly chattering, even when nobody was around. That way, when I eventually talked to M-Bot’s drone, it wouldn’t look so odd.
I kept stripping and lubricating the mechanism—trying to slow down—for what had to have been another few hours. Until eventually I felt a mind hesitantly pushing against mine.
Chet? I asked.
Indeed, he replied. I would like to speak with you. But perhaps we should do it the quieter way you did before…
Done, I said. But Chet, I—
Please, he said. If I might begin?
Go ahead, I said, forcing myself to hold back another apology.
I have been thinking a great deal about our earlier conversation, he said. And I wanted to admit something to you. Your suspicion of me isn’t entirely unfounded. I have been…disingenuous, Miss Nightshade.
In…what way? I asked.
I am not everything I appear to be, he said. It is difficult for me to admit, for me to explain. You see, I’ve told you I don’t remember being Commander Spears—but it’s worse than that. I…have been in here so long that I’ve lost much of my identity. Not only memories, but personality as well. Everything I was…crumbled away, like dirt before a persistent stream.
As this happened, I grew frightened. It is a terrible thing to lose yourself, and I had to replace it with something. And I remembered stories. Fanciful stories perhaps, but full of men I’d admired. Allan Quatermain, Lord John Roxton, Chet Cannister. As I lost myself, I…I filled in the gaps, you see. The line between the hero adventurer and me blurred.
And so, you are right to be suspicious. You perhaps thought me a liar, and in a way I am. Because I could not show you my true self. I’ve forgotten him.
Chet, I said. That doesn’t make you a liar.
Perhaps not, he replied. But the truth is…difficult to bear. I am not really a man, Miss Nightshade. I’m a collection of stories stuffed into a brain with no context, trying so very hard to simply keep going.
You’re a hero, I said.
If that were true, he replied, then I’d have confronted the truths in the Path of Elders long ago. They…frighten me, Miss Nightshade…Spensa, they frighten me. For reasons I can’t explain, because I don’t quite remember. I think part of me is hidden in them somewhere, something that terrifies me. If I were a true hero, I would have walked that road on my own long ago.
I didn’t know what to make of that. I could feel his sincerity, and his fear. Even his confusion.
It doesn’t matter where it came from, I said firmly. You rescued me, guided me, helped me. And now you’re walking this Path with me.
All for a fee, he said. You…noticed how I look upon your icon. I see now why you…treated me as you did.
I felt another spike of shame. Mirrored by his own.
We are quite a pair, aren’t we? he sent. I hope that being near an icon will help me become more…solid. That the reality ashes, and the tie back to the somewhere, will help me somehow. I cannot entirely blame you for worrying about my intentions.
My distrust hurt you though, I said. Still hurts you.
Yes, he admitted. It’s in the persona, you understand. I…I must see myself as a hero, the gentleman explorer, beloved and trusted. Because if I’m not that, well… Well then… That is all I have left of what I once was. Those dreams, those aspirations.