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With his feet tucked into a tangle of blankets and cushions Scarecrow bent over a tangle of microphones and circuits on the round table in front of him. The lights in the room were turned down to a low amber that wouldn’t interfere with any of his family’s night vision if they had to move around in the night. Beyond the little bubble of peace that was his home Alpha Centauri buzzed along in human binary. Radio waves constantly pinging from the homes to the satellites and back again. It was still alien to him, but every day that passed it grew more familiar, easier to track, easier to observe and manipulate, even now it had become a comforting background to his work. Scarecrow carefully took the welding tool and attached a circuit in place.
“Such strange patterns,” he murmured to himself. “Why do humans make squares out of their spirals?”
Scarecrow had always been fascinated by organic life. That was part of his core programming that he took no exception to. The way things moved, the patterns they formed. It really was a joy to learn about them, a greater joy to understand them. Here in humans, here he had such a wealth of patterns to study that he would never finish even the first study he had begun.
He added the next circuit and was just about to test the connections when something caught his attention. A sudden signal, in the spectrum humans couldn’t see and called radio, issued from the boy’s room. Almost before Scarecrow could note it there were answering signals from Amanda’s room, the house’s main computer, and much to Scarecrow’s consternation his own closet. Those signals were rarely critical, but why was it in his space? He leapt up noiselessly from his nest, kicking aside the blankets with irritation and darted to the open closet. Various boxes of Ben’s older projects were stacked up and in one a red alert light was blinking.
Scarecrow felt a flicker of fear. Whatever this was it had started in the boy’s room, and Ben had thought it critical enough to keep an alert. He snatched up the device, it appeared to be a small fob of the sort humans wore attached to their clothes, and darted to the room that William and Henry shared. He eased open the door and frantically scanned the room for threats being sure not to make any sound that would wake the boys. Amanda had had to scold him far too many times for disturbing their sleep with, what even he admitted, was his own paranoia. He didn’t wake the boys, but this time there was an alarm signal. Scarecrow advanced silently on the bunkbed William and Henry shared. They were both covered with thick blankets patterned over with stars and images of old human spacecraft. They usually slept turned towards the wall so all he could see was the comforting glow of their thermal signature from the back of their necks. He clutched the small fob uneasily running a talon over the raised image on the back. Two snakes twining around a staff. Medical, it was a medical alert, and the origin signal was clearly coming from William.
“What’s wrong Cherished One?” Scarecrow murmured reaching out a primary hand to gently caress the back of the boy’s head.
By craning his neck under the higher bunk Scarecrow was able to get a closer look at William’s lights and a spike of fear shot through him. The boy’s biolights, which usually ran brighter than his brother’s, were noticeably dimmer than they should have been at this point in his circadian rhythm. Scarecrow fought down a moment of raw horror and trembled as he fought down panic. Lights did not mean the same thing in humans as they did in his kind. There were other, more important indicators, dim lights meant only that William’s body was pulling the blood inward. Scarecrow carefully laid a digit on the boy’s scalp. The pulse rate was nearly double what it should have been, a strange rasping sound accompanied the boy’s breathing, William’s skin was damp. Scarecrow spent a moment flickering between calling Amanda and just bringing the boy directly to her and was just bending forward to snatch William up when he heard a rustling behind him.
“Scarecrow!” Amanda’s voice hissed softly. “Don’t wake him yet.”
“Amanda!” Scarecrow flashed. “William-”
The mother flinched back, a moment of fear, showing clearly in her eyes and Scarecrow realized with a sinking feeling of frustration that his threat analysis was running and his plating was flared. However, before he could even correct his posture so that it was less frightening to the human threat detection circuits Amanda had smoothed her face down to the usual calm smile she wore when something was going wrong. She gestured for him to come out of the room. Scarecrow clutched at the alert fob and gave one last uneasy glance at William before obeying.
A thin coil he couldn’t quite keep down was whimpering about the injustice of not being trusted yet, after everything, every proof he had given, and Scarecrow savagely tried to silence it. It almost worked. Amanda led him to the kitchen and pointed to a high cupboard.
“Green box,” she murmured even as she bent over and pulled a white bag out from under the counter.
Scarecrow felt a thrill of relief on several levels. There was a protocol and he felt his face calm as he found the green box and pulled it down. He had noticed it before in his examinations of the house’s contents but had not been able to identify the purposes of the various chemical storage devices inside it.
“It’s been awhile since we had to do this,” Amanda went on in that same low, calm voice. “I hope, oh no.”
Scarecrow swiftly moved to stand over her. She was searching though the various cloth items and sensor devices in the bag. Not finding what she was looking for she bent back into the cabinet but appeared to come up empty her colors flushing with frustration.
“The heating pad,” she said. “A polymer envelope with conductive circuits worked in, about half a meter across. Have you seen it?”
She glanced up at him and Scarecrow pulsed a no. He saw her go though a moment of indecision as she fingered the alert fob in her pocket and then make a decision.
“Damp towels it is then,” she said, and bent down to scoop several of the times out of the bag. She took them to the sink and applied water before wringing them out.
“William is going to be fine,” she said, in those still soft tones as she worked. “This is an old condition that we’ve been dealing with since, well long before we left Earth. You don’t need to worry.”
Scarecrow glanced away as her soft, kindly meant words drove spikes through his processor and into his heart. The concealment was probably unnecessary. Amanda learned to read his face better every day, but she had yet little to no reference for this guilt that corroded everything it touched. He forced himself to turn back to her.
“Thank you for letting me help,” he said. “Thank you for trusting me.”
She might not be able to see him, but it felt right to say it.
“William has a medical condition,” she began explaining as she wrung the excess water out of the fibers and placed them in the oven.
“I know,” Scarecrow couldn’t help saying even as he listened to her simple, effective description. “Ben told me when it first developed. Ben told me most things back then, before.”
“The important thing is to not let him panic,” Amanda was saying. “That’s why I didn’t want you to wake him up back there.”
Scarecrow perked up at this, focusing on something new.
“Inflammation is metabolic in nature, but if he panics it sets up a stress cycle. This,” she indicated the various items in the bag, “it’s all psychosomatic really. The implants that monitor the artificial lung are already giving him antinflamitories. So!”
She pulled the towels out of the oven and bunched them up before looking at him with a practiced smile that radiated peace and calm.
“Are you ready to put on your, everything’s fine face?” she asked.
Scarecrow took a step forward and leaned over her, focusing on the calmness she was radiating. He watched the reflection of his face in her eyes turn from amber to blue and he nodded. She smiled a bit more sincerely up at him and led him back to the boy’s room. She nodded to the blanket as she began folding the rapidly cooling towel. Scarecrow set the green box down beside her and began to gently ease the blanket off of William. Amanda rustled through bottles labeled with images of various flowers of Earth and selected a few then moved to stand over William. She sprinkled a few drops from a bottle with a violet colored flower on it around William’s pillow and the boy’s nose twitched. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the thin scar that revealed where the surgery had been preformed, and then covered his chest with the warm towel. William began to stir and mutter and Amanda put her arms out as if she would lift him up to sit him in her lap, but as Scarecrow watched with concern she was clearly struggling with his weight.
They grow so quickly. Ben’s voice whispered to him.
Scarecrow moved forward and reached out with a primary arm to hold it over William’s body in a suggestion. Amanda’s face showed a flash of what he almost thought was anger for a moment, before it smoothed out into her “everything’s fine” face and she scooted to the far side of the bed, giving him room. In one smooth motion Scarecrow folded himself into the small space of the bunk bed and had eased the still mostly asleep William up to lay against his chest, being careful not to disturb the arrangement of the towels. Scarecrow made a few minor changes to the way his plating lay and let his core temperature rise a few degrees to match what Amanda had indicated was the ideal temperature of the towels.
The entire time Scarecrow kept his attention on William, absorbing how he breathed, how his heart beat. Even with all this movement the boy wasn’t fully awake. A lack of self preservation Scarecrow was fairly confident he could assume William inherited from his father. Back on the Amber planet he had often amused himself by seeing how far he could move Ben before his friend woke up.
“Hopefully you got some of your mother’s survival programming,” Scarecrow murmured to the sleeping child as he felt William snuggle against his ventral plating.
Scarecrow glanced over at Amanda, and realized his mistake in a moment. She was sitting, still with that same face on, but her spine stiff and her arms half extended. There was something in her colors that told him he had transgressed on some human custom, but not a taboo. She wasn’t displeased, not entirely, she was recalibrating her behavior to match his after he had crossed her expectations. Clearly she had thought he was offering to lift the growing boy and place William against her, not take the place himself.
“Humans have so many expectations,” Scarecrow said, ducking his head down, as if he was carefully watching his secondary hands arranging the blanket over William. “It must make your life a constant string of surprises.”
Of course he would hand over William if she asked, if she ordered, him too. He understood what the chain of command was in a family, if not exactly why, but she hadn’t ordered him to part with William yet. He could feel the too-fast, but steadily slowing pulsing of the boy’s heart. He could hear the rasping of each labored breath. For now, for this moment he could actually make amends for his sins. So Scarecrow stared down at the rockets on the blanket and spoke meaningless, soothing words to the boy in a language human ears couldn’t hear.
After a long moment Amanda stood and moved to check on the still sleeping Henry in the upper bunk. She sprinkled a few of the medicinal drops on his pillow as well and Scarecrow saw her stretch and heard a kiss. Ben had explained this too. They had been afraid that the amount of attention they had to show to the one brother might cause the other to be jealous. They always made sure that one of them gave Henry these extra ministrations to assure them of their love. It was logical. Sound. Scarecrow rested his head on William’s and gave him a tender nuzzle.
Amanda finished tending to Henry and turned to setting out mixing together various liquids.
“I’m making William’s favorite flavored warm water,” she murmured, breaking into Scarecrow’s thoughts. “He should come fully awake in about three-quarters of an hour. If I am out of the room get him to drink it. I will need to warm up the towels occasionally. Where did that heating pad get to?”
Scarecrow had no idea where the item had went. Though logically if Amanda hadn’t moved it, it had most likely succumbed to Henry’s scientific curiosity and would never be found intact. Scarecrow felt the rapidly cooling towel with dissatisfaction. He understood the principle; keep the heat evenly distributed over the boy’s chest to encourage blood flow and release some of the tension on the lungs. He had done something similar for Ben’s damaged muscles. He glanced up at Amanda’s face but she was busily sorting through the box of supplies. He reached out and gently tugged at her shirt and she glanced at him with that same even smile. Everything was fine.
“I think I can help with the heating pad issue,” Scarecrow said holding out his primary digits and letting just a touch of red glow show. Amanda looked perplexed so he pointed to William’s chest. Her brow furrowed as she pondered the offer. Then she pulled up a long sleeve and extended her wrist. It was Scarecrow’s turn to be puzzled.
“Show me,” she murmured, tapping her wrist with one finger, “the exact temperature you’re going to use.”
Scarecrow understood and lightly pressed her wrist with his thermal blasters. She considered it a moment.
“Can you make it warmer?” she asked.
He increased the power a bit and she smiled and nodded.
“You realized if we do it this way you are kind of stuck here until the inflammation calms down,” she said. “It is easy enough for me to keep the towels warm in the oven.”
“This is where I want to be,” Scarecrow said, curling his neck down over William’s head.
Amanda took the meaning of the gesture and carried the extra materials out of the room. In the bunk above Henry shifted and murmured and then went back to bed. Amanda returned and sat down beside Scarecrow on the lower bunk. She leaned against the wall and smiled at him.
Ben had told him about this stage too. About how Amanda would slip back to bed once Ben was holding William like this and the drink was prepared. Scarecrow understood why she didn’t trust him enough to go back to her own bed just yet. The reality that she trusted him this far was a miracle to him. Still, it was a goal, and something in his heart sent out a warm coil. It was a good goal.