Work Text:
"This is extremely [Loop 1 of null. Allocating flexible training: Empathy]," the creature wearing his father's face said sternly, gesturing to the shapeless mass on the far side of the campfire.
For a brief moment, it felt as though Cardinal were somehow blinking in reverse; small details of the scene struck him vividly, his attention caught in a way that whispered I'll not forget this. The aurora in their skyline was a subtle green today, and flecked with speckled fault lines that might have been stars, inconstantly as they shone. The woods were alive with birdsong. The wind from his left side was cold as it flared up, and ran uncomfortably so against the metal on his spine. He tasted... redwood cleaner, was it? They must have been careless with preparing supper. It was the last of those senses which reminded Cardinal he'd been focusing on the wrong places: the conversation had gotten away from him completely.
"I'm sorry," he said to the sniffling girl on the other side of the circle. He looked to Father and Wren (who seemed unusually solemn) to buy time for recollection, before refocusing on the visitor. "I shouldn't have said it, and I'm definitely, totally wrong. We'll find them soon." What had happened to her parents? His inability to remember made him feel worse.
"Oh Truth," an older Cardinal whispered. He'd moved a little ways beyond the shack to talk to Wren, conscious of how fragile these people's hopes were. "We're not going to make it to Titheton and back in time for medicine to make a difference." A little more softly: "The odds are so low. What do we do, Wren?"
As he waited on his sibling's response, Cardinal couldn't help but notice how vibrant the summer sky looked against that rocky horizon, cloud cover long since siphoned away by Numenera. The lively dust plumes had worn through the soles of their feet by now. They chafed against him with a faint humming noise, invisible winds sweeping across the blue tundra and arranging them into tiny piles of minerals. Wren's face shifted too: tiny rearrangements in expression, hard to decipher.
"[Loop 4 of sub: 100. Incompatible technologies. Attempting inverse simulation process.]" a host in the shack whispered.
["A small amount of crime and we'd have so many shins," Wren did not say.]
["The parents are the worst off: if we left the kids to take care of it we could find another place to sleep by nightfall," Wren did not say.]
["If we asked they'd probably give us some cyphers for the trouble," Wren did not say.]
Cardinal looked at the photo Wren had been holding out while he was distracted: two toddlers and Father, produced by a cypher some indeterminate years ago. They looked so happy. Well, Wren and Father did: little Cardinal had clearly been a little perplexed in the moment. He glanced back at the shack.
"You're right. If we start hiking in the crow-manner we've at least got a chance of helping them."
["That's very nice of us," Wren stated], in sentiment if not in words.
"I'll be honest, it's quite possible we'll still injure ourselves getting past the canyons, but we ought to try."
"Hey Cardinal! [Loop 7 of -"
"Ah, clear off, Eric," Cardinal muttered.
The street boomed with noises of travel and trade. Voices pitched to carry drowned out footsteps near their alcove, the walls of which were warm and dry to the touch despite the meager shade it provided. On the haphazard brickwork to his right, a younger Cardinal could see a faint mark where chipped stone had been filled in with mud. The smell of -
"[Loop 12 of estimated: 16. Sensory grounding complete.] How does the bagel taste?" the mercurial forms before him asked. Spheres unfolded into faces as Cardinal grinned at both of them.
"It's the best and isolated: instance I've ever had! You guys are just so loop, you know?" For a moment, he struggled to name the boy who had given him the meal. Why were important details always so difficult?
"It is an admirable thing to do something kind for a friend," said [Alice - one of his several long-time childhood friends].
"When your father went missing, we realised you had experienced a sad thing, and this engendered kindness," said [Bob - a friend he had known for many years].
Cardinal looked at the largely-uneaten baked good in his hands. "Do you want some? I wouldn't want you to go hungry for my sake."
"Due to our [status: parental tragedy]?" asked Alice.
"You're orphans too?" Cardinal blurted in confusion. An appropriate set of details slotted into memory. "No - that is, I mean, it just seemed fairer if everybody got to try this. We should save some for when Wren gets back, too."
His [childhood friends] considered this, and collapsed back into possibility space. "[Flexible memory allocation complete. Directing spare processes to REM.]" whispered a nearby merchant.
Throughout the night, Cardinal slept soundly. Ghosts, decisions and distant worlds danced across synthglass, but would only be remembered by their outlines come morning.