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relia-robot
@relia-robot

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I beat Starille handily on the first five races. It’s… bad. Her coordination is all off, her reaction time is slow, and occasionally she drops the controller because her head hurts so much. I try to tell her that it’s okay, she can sleep it off, but she absolutely refuses to do anything else until she can take a race off of me.

“Look, let’s at least take a break, okay?”

“Well, if you think you need one,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me.

I just roll my eyes at her. She wobbles as she gets up, and I half get up to try to catch her if she falls. She just waves me away, and then very carefully walks to the mini-matter-transposer on my wall and stares at it.

And stares at it.

And frowns at it.

And glares at it.

And scrunches up her face at it.

“Uh, Starille? Your implant’s dead, remember? Use the touch interface.”

“Oh. Right.”

She presses a series of buttons, and the mini-transposer spits out a cube which morphs into a glass of water and a couple of pills. Then the display flashes some kind of message at her, but either she’s a very fast reader or she dismisses it before she can see any of it. I raise my eyebrow at her. “Not even gonna look at it?”

Her face twists. “Saw that, huh?” She takes the meds, swallows some more water. “I don’t want you to think we’re passing secret messages, or whatever. They can cope without me for a little while.”

I make a noncommittal hmmm noise, and she carefully sits back down on the couch and picks up the controller. The next race is closer, and by the big final race she just barely manages to eke out first place from me.

“Ha! Eat it!”

The screen scrolls from the race rankings to the overall cup rankings, where I sit on the first place podium, and Starille’s racer is nowhere to be seen. “Eat what, exactly?” I stick my tongue out at her.

“Oh, that hardly counts, I was warming up after being in more than one body for a month.”

I pause. I want to ask her about it, but I don’t even know where to start. Plus, im exhausted. Its been a hell of a day. At least she doesn’t seem to be shaking anymore. “Pain meds help?”

She sets down the controller, and without the energy of the game, she slumps down deep in the couch. “Yeah, it’s… better. I’m zonked, though, this body’s been awake for almost twenty hours, on top of everything else.”

I can’t help myself. “Don’t you mean you’ve been awake for almost twenty hours?”

She shakes her head slowly, like she’s worried her brain might slosh out her ears. “Shipmind… doesn’t exactly work that way. There’s always someone on shift, and the computer never stops, so we’re - they’re - always awake.”

My eyebrows knit together. “Then, how do they rest?

She shrugs. “The bodies get rest. The mind is constant…” she yawns. “Look, I’m not a sleep scientist, but I should get back to my quarters before I fall over.”

She makes to stand up, and I block her. “Uh-uh. I’ve rigged these quarters to be as Shipmind-proof as possible, but yours are still vulnerable. If you leave now and go to sleep, who knows what Shipmind might do to you? You’re staying here tonight.”

She looks at me like I’ve got three heads. “You’re joking. I knew you were worried, but that’s a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”

I spread my arms wide. “There’s a brain-eating parasite on board the ship! You were right there with me when I told you to get in the vents, and it kept you safe! Why am I the only one taking this seriously?!”

She stands up and gets right in my face, poking me sharply in the chest to emphasize her points. “Shipmind has been nothing but kind to you! They haven’t even tried to look into your quarters, or mess with your programs, or do anything at all! We-“ she makes a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. “They made your favorite food for every meal today! When, exactly, have they given you any reason to distrust them?”

I stand my ground. “When they consumed the people I cared about and didn’t give them back.”

She grabs the front of my shirt in a single fist. "I'm right here! Standing in front of you, unharmed-" she wobbles, her grip slipping and I catch her as she collapses.

"I'm. Not. Hurt." She grinds out each word through her teeth, tries to stand again, but can't seem to get her legs to work right. "I'm just... tired." I ease her down onto the couch. An argument isn't going to do her much good in this state.

"I don't think you're in any shape to go anywhere anyway," I say softly. "Stay. Okay?"

She shivers, and nods, although it looks like it costs her pride to do so. "Grab me a blanket, would you?" I nod, and she lays down on the couch.

I go about securing my quarters for the night, then go to the mini-transposer and request a blanket and pillow. They come out non-standard, the pillow extra stiff and the blanket a dark blue instead of regulation grey. The display blinks at me: Tell Starille goodnight from us. I grit my teeth, swipe the message away, power off the mini-transposer, then for good measure I pull the panel open and disconnect the power cable.

Starille is already almost half-asleep, but she raises her head for me to slide the pillow under, and I drape the blanket over her. She must be truly exhausted; I think she falls asleep before I hit the lights.

Man, I hope she's okay.


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in reply to @relia-robot's post:

Yeah, if they didn't need to hurry and give Sarah proof, sleep would probably have been a better first plan after that ordeal. Shipmind themselves may need to figure out more about rest. They haven't been around long enough to know the long term implications of...Well, anything really.

It's funny, cause if shipmind had Sarah's perspective there is probably a lot it could do to like, be a more careful and conscientious entity. Like, Sarah seems paranoid, but it is all rational arguments worth examining. Things that if shipmind could spend some time properly sitting with and working over would help it know itself better and be less scary to others. But I guess they already know they need Sarah, that is part of the conflict.