I Fell From The Dark

20

They walked down some metal stairs in a concrete hallway, unadorned except for blue numbers stencilled onto the walls. Then, Jean pushed open a fire door, and lead her outside.

She emerged out on a back street. It was deserted, although vehicles were occasionally driving along a larger road two hundred metres away.

It was early morning. The same grey light which had fallen through the window in Jean's lab was creeping from the sky, making everything look washed out and monochrome.

The buildings were simple blocks of concrete and metal, no adornments or glass. More blue letters were stencilled on their surfaces, names and warnings. There was no litter anywhere; in fact, everything was clean, although signs of use were everywhere, scuffs on doors and blue text fading where hands had brushed it. Everything felt neat but tired.

A car was parked near her. She walked up to it; it was as utilitarian as everything else here, a simple form composed of metal bars and grills, no glass except for at the front.

She frowned, and crouched down to look at it.

'How do you fit in here? It's tiny.'

Jean followed her.

'That's not my car. It's Albert's. He parks it here because there are no restrictions. We're not allowed to own cars.'

She stood. 'So Albert is a... dwarf? A child?'

'No, he's a human. He's my maker. And, I guess yours too, now that I've woken you up. He's not too bad. There are worse.'

'I...'

'You really don't remember anything, do you? You must have met makers on the ship you were on? That's bad that you don't recall. There was no sign of damage on any of the diagnostics I ran, but you're an old model, so I might have gotten it wrong...'

'No, it was just me and Pilgrim. None of these makers. I woke up, and then she sent me out on a probe, and that was it.'

Jean's eyes widened. 'No way. The AI really was corrupt. That must have been why it was hurrying. They don't activate workers until they've woken up some crew. We can't be trusted.'

'Look, I'll be honest, Jean. I don't understand most of what you're saying. All this...' Mia waved her hands her around her, taking in the grey sky, the concrete buildings, the tiny car, '...all of it, this is just strange shit upon strange shit, and every time I wake up I find something new. People keep saying stuff to me, endless stuff, and yet no one has ever answered the question I need answering more than anything else: who am I? There's something there, locked in the back of my mind. You said it yourself: memories are stirred up when I get messed around with, dumped into bodies or whatever. I remember, Jean: I remember something about me. I need to know what that is! Why can't anyone tell me?'

She was almost shouting by the end. There were tears behind her eyes, threatening to break out, pushed by rage and confusion; but she wasn't going to cry on this street, even if it was just her and this guy.

Who I know nothing about, who can make realities that I can't distinguish from this, she thought. This could be just another one of his tricks.

He was looking increasingly worried as she shouted. At the end, he made a shushing motion with his hand.

'We can't talk about this here, Mia. I can help you later. But right now, you need to listen.'

'But...'

'No, please,' he said looking desperate. 'Please. They don't like us talking about that. Albert will be here any moment. I know you don't know me, and you have no reason to trust me, but you'll get us both in trouble, so please, just keep those questions to yourself. I promise I'll talk as much as I can.'

'I... fine. I'll hold you to that, though.'

'Thank you. Look, when Albert comes, you need to call him sir. You need to do everything that he says. He isn't one of the really bad ones, so you should be safe, but please, just be careful, for both of our sakes.'

She shook her head, uncomprehending.

'Please,' he said. 'Just say you'll do that.'

She shrugged. 'Sure.'

'Here he is.'