Work Text:
When we first left the torus, I was watching the scanners, alert to any pursuit. But no one was following us, and it would take 54 minutes for the shuttle to reach the ship.
Not long enough to watch an episode of the new show ART had found for us. But that was okay. I read the description and tags, and I was looking forward to watching it. Bharadwaj had told me that anticipation could be a form of enjoyment, and I guess she was right, because…
(Emotion check: Yeah, I'm looking forward to something.)
You should perform a restart, ART said. It's safe now, and you need to purge the chemicals in your system.
I'll do it when we're on the ship. After we're all done in Medical. The humans would need a checkup, and I'd wait until they were done for my own treatment — there was still one projectile that hadn't popped out of my back. I'd need a restart and recharge after that.
You can restart more than once, ART reminded me.
It wasn't wrong. There was still no sign of pursuit, and even if there were, ART would handle it. Anything that required a SecUnit I'd trust Three with. (I might be annoyed with Three, but I trusted it to protect the humans.) Okay.
Sleep mode, ART said. Demanded.
So that was a thing I'd added, because ART kept nagging me about it after we learned that construct neural tissue — like a human brain — does actually benefit from sleep. The organic part of my brain could sleep (and even dream) when I'm shut down.
A standard restart lasted only three minutes, which wasn't enough time to reach a deep sleep state, but now I had a "sleep mode" version of a restart. Essentially, that meant if I was convinced that everything was safe, the mechanical part of my brain would remain in an idle state after a restart, allowing the organic part of my brain to drift to sleep.
It didn't always work. If I was worried or distracted, I didn't reach sleep. In that case, after ten minutes the inorganic part of my brain would shift from idle to awake. That's what I expected to happen this time. I mean, a lot had happened and I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I leaned back into my chair and initiated the restart.
###
It was quiet in the cockpit area of the shuttle, which wasn't a surprise. Perihelion and SecUnit conversed primarily in the feed. As Mensah approached, she was aware she might be interrupting a conversation. She knew they would be aware of her presence, so she stood just outside the cockpit and waited for them to acknowledge her.
She couldn't feel SecUnit in the feed, which was a surprise. She was about to ask Perihelion if everything was all right when it told her, SecUnit is asleep. Please be quiet and do not address it in the feed. That will trigger wakefulness.
The words were polite, but Mensah recognized the tone. How many times had she warned others to be quiet because she had just gotten the kids or an exhausted spouse to succumb to sleep? Always with a "don't you dare wake them up now" implied. She stepped into the cockpit and glanced at SecUnit. Its eyes were closed and it seemed more relaxed than she had ever seen it. I wasn't aware it could sleep.
It is a new skill we are building.
Good. Perihelion wouldn't violate SecUnit's privacy, but she had to imagine this was part of its mental health regimen.
SecUnit took a sharp breath and for a moment Mensah wondered if her presence had disturbed it. But then it said "ART."
The drone floated over and… It didn't feel right to say it nuzzled SecUnit's arm, but there was a light touch before it murmured, "I'm here. You're safe," in the most comforting, reassuring tone she'd ever heard Perihelion use. And it worked. SecUnit sighed and drifted more deeply into sleep.
You're very… she almost said "dear" but didn't think SecUnit would appreciate that, so she went with, Very important to it.
We have a deep mutual rapport, Perihelion said.
I'm glad.
###
ART drone was poking me.
"Mmph," I told it.
"I could carry you if you prefer."
I yawned as both parts of my brain came online. It was tempting to keep sleeping and let ART carry me to the ship. It had reinforced the limbs on its drones so it actually could handle my weight and not tip over. But that was in case of an emergency. I didn't want any of the humans to think this was an emergency. No, I'll walk.
I stood and stretched. I was learning to appreciate a good stretch. I didn't actually think I'd fall asleep.
You never do. I could hear the amusement in ART's voice. I could also feel the vastness of its presence. I was talking to ART-prime now, not ART-drone.
(Beneath the amusement I could feel concern. It knew I had been shot, and that there hadn't been a med suite available.)
I'm fine, I insisted. (Because I was.) And I added just a touch of annoyance to my tone. (Because that would help convince ART I really was fine.)
My med system will be the judge of that.
As I walked through the shuttle's cabin, I felt a tug on my leg. Tula was pulling on my clothing. When she saw she had my attention, she held up her arms. "Fine," I said. "But only until we get to Medical." I picked her up, and again she wrapped all of her limbs around me. Seriously, I think she might be part tentacle monster.
Which meant her sister was going to walk beside me to keep an eye on both of us. Which meant I needed to walk at a human pace.
Which meant that Sofi was able to grab my free hand — the one not holding Tula — to walk with me while her mothers gave Naja probably more assistance than Naja wanted.
Which meant that when we stepped onto the shuttle bay, ART's crew all saw me surrounded by human juveniles.
Iris clapped a hand over her mouth before she could start laughing, but in the feed she sent, I'm adding this image to our team memory book.
I'll delete it, I warned. But we both knew ART wouldn't let me.
(Emotion check: I'm adding the image to my permanent archive, but I'm not admitting that to anyone.)
(Emotion check: Proud, okay. I'm proud of what we did. I mean, it wasn't perfect but… Yeah, I'm proud.)
We made it to Medical before I turned to Mensah and begged, "Please get these kids off of me. I need a shower and I don't want company."
She didn't laugh, at least not very much, as I made my escape.
I didn't escape for long, as it turned out. Once ART had assessed the health of the humans and repaired the damage to my back, we all gathered in the Argument Lounge, where the kids pulled me onto a sofa with them. The curled around me in what Matteo called a "cuddle pile" while we did an informal mission debrief.
It wasn't awful.
And with an astuteness that surprised me, Three waited an entire day cycle to ask again if the trouble it had gotten into with ART could be a "we problem." By then I was calmer and relented. So now ART and I are doing a whole thing where we're teaching Three about free will versus team responsibilities. Especially team responsibilities during missions.
We finally pulled Iris in, because she is much better at this stuff, being an actual mission leader.
(Emotion check: I'm a terrible mentor.)
(Emotion check: It's good to remember that I'm part of a team, and that I can rely on them to help with stuff that I'm shit at. I don't like accepting help. But maybe I can get better at accepting it. Because it is nice when they offer.)
When we wrapped up the first session with Iris, Three turned to me and said, "Thank you. You are a good mentor."
This is the downside of riding in its head at the start of the mission. Now it knows how to get to me.
Say that again and I'll stop even trying to mentor you, I warned.
It sent me a smile sigil and a heart sigil. I think it's been spending too much time with Sofi.
"I'm leaving now," I announced, and I stalked back to my cabin. I'd spent enough time with humans and constructs who wanted to be mentored. It was time to watch that new show ART had found for us.