Alma thought it before, and she'd think it a quadrillion more times, she hated all this sudden shutdowns and boot-ups. And to think that her ‘power source' had run out of ‘source' just before she made it to Ethan's. How far would have she trekked by foot before it happened? Without Jamie she'd probably have run out of power somewhere in the forests of Canada and be lost from knowledge for who knew how long. Simon wouldn't have planned for that to happen. Would he?
She should stop second-guessing herself. As Newblood said, pessimism wasn't good for the mind.
Her motor functions and four major senses returned, but her vision, again, annoyingly, was blurred. She was sick of waking up to seeing nothing but fuzzy outlines and coloured shadows. Alma curved her neck to her tail and stretched her limbs to their fullest extent, phalanges included; she just needed to strain out all the aches in her joints brought on from immobility. It felt good to finally move again, even if it was only a few minutes she had been awake for.
Her sight cleared finally. She observed she was in a room. A dark room. It was early morning - Alma could tell by the digital clock next to the bed, and by the small amount of light coming through the high window. Nothing really distinguished it from any other room she had seen, but then again she'd only ever seen Simon's house. What she meant was that there was a bedside table with an unlit lamp and lampshade; the bed was small - only able to accommodate one decent-sized person - and had dark red sheets; the walls were a cream colour, aside from the window wall which was red in almost the exact same hue as the bed sheet, as were the curtains of the window; and a bookcase with... all the books that were in her satchel lined in correct order.
Alma sat up. Was this where she thought she? It must be! There could be no other explanation! This was Ethan's house! She'd made it! With the help of complete strangers, yes, but she'd made it! Ethan had probably seen her already, so there would be no surprise when she'd see him. Alma would have liked to see his face when he had a proper look at all the effort Simon put into her. Not to brag, but Alma thought of herself as a work of art, even though she didn't feel like one.
Finally, you're awake.
She forgot all about Newblood.
Forget about little old me, did you? I've been waiting for the past ten hours!
"Newblood, calm your farm, cool your jets, and take a chill pill, in that order."
Ten hours! I was talking to myself for ten hours and you never said a word!
"How could I when I was out of power?"
And yet somehow I could say things?! Why didn't you say anything?!
"I heard everything," Alma admitted with a sad sigh, "The things you said... Sorry, and thankyou at the same time."
...I just... didn't want to be alone anymore.
"For the time being, however, you're permanently stuck with me."
I almost began to re-hate you.
"...I'm glad you didn't then."
You're telling me. So what now? Can't get back to sleep.
"I guess we're just going to have to wait around until morning."
It's already morning.
"I mean when everyone else wakes up."
Alma shimmied over and stretched out her hand to feel the bedside table for the lamp's light switch. Fumbling around cords, her fingers conclusively grasped the plastic bulge where the button was located, and pressed down. White light flooded both the room and her eyes. Great. Now she couldn't see for another few seconds. What a genius she was. When the colours of the world finally returned to her sight, Alma jumped. In the centre of the room was a person, slumping in a chair, head bowed down, rifle in his lap, wrists resting on barrel and butt, hair frizzed up, sleeping. The chair was facing the midpoint between Alma and the door, so whoever it was, he was protecting her... though not now of course. Maybe he had been awake for most of the night. Watching over her. Alma hopped down to the floor and looked up at his tired face; exhausted; dark rings around his eyes, though the light made it difficult to see how dark they were. Simon always had dark rings around his eyes, no matter how much sleep he had - if any at times - but this was not Simon. This watchdog had an air of having participated in one too many battles. A tired warrior would be the perfect description.
His breathing was slow, silent, and rhythmic - Alma had not disturbed him. Thankfully. The last thing she wanted for anyone was inconvenience. Then again, she'd brought enough inconvenience as it was to Jamie's life, changed it forever even, and Alma hated that. Maybe... Maybe if she'd just leave... things would go back to... no. No.
Don't be an idiot, she scolded herself, you know perfectly well they won't.
Quietly as she could, she stepped across the woollen carpet and into the hallway, and from the hallway into the living room. The kitchen lights on her right sensed her movement and turned on to reveal a full assortment of cooking utensils. Pots, pans, fireless stoves, spatulas, tongs, two sinks, a fridge, a pantry and long rows of overhead and below-waist cupboards, and an island counter. The floor there was terracotta coloured tile, and slightly rose above the rest of the flooring. One of the counters doubled as a wall; there was an opening filled with windows, all of which could be opened to the outdoor dining area. It would be easier to draw a picture than describe it. Currently, the windows were closed to keep the mosquitos out.
There was another entrance to the dining area - a sliding glass door and security door that gave admission to the living room yet again. The living room wasn't actually defined from the rest of the open space by walls or other obvious features, only one sofa and two armchairs, which surrounded a wooden coffee table that could easily be mistaken for a large mahogany footrest if it weren't for the thin draws on the front and rear faces. The chairs all faced towards a large borderless wall-mounted television. The TV was presently off, but the sofa was still occupied by someone. Alma walked closer, and the someone became a redheaded someone with a pillow and a blanket. It was Ethan, obviously, the only redhead she knew in her life. Well... she didn't exactly know him yet.
"Oh, it's just you," came an unfamiliar, simulated, male voice, "In that case you won't need breakfast.""No," Alma replied to the ceiling at low volume; she didn't want to wake Ethan unnecessarily, "Who are you?""I, madam, am Craig, the house's artificial intelligence, created by none other than Ethan Day himself.""The Ethan lying on the couch?""Yes.""What exactly does a house AI do?"
The TV turned on silently, volume on mute, and presented an early morning talk show. Four anchors sat around a bow-shaped sofa. Two women, two men. The one who was talking took charge of the segment that gave a brief summary of what happened while people were asleep. Alma heard what she had to say, "...uran Federation's investigation still hasn't discovered who the invader was, they now have the full cooperation of any and all nations directly affected by the war. Effectively, the mysterious invader may have caused the nations to work together under one banner. Leroy Jenkins with more-"
The TV switched off again, "As you can see, I have control over most of the house's basic functions. Security to television, coffee machine to Simulator. Frankly, I do anything Ethan is too lazy to do.""How's that for employment. But..." Alma cocked her head at a small camera she saw in the corner of the space, "you mentioned a ‘simulator'?""Yes, yes I did. Before Simon's house went dark - we presume that it was hit?"
Alma lowered her eyes in memory, "It was. Special Operations.""I see. Well... before you were... ahem... forcibly removed... Simon sent a few photos of you and some... oh how stupid of me making you stand there, would you prefer to take a seat?""I- yes please.""Spare armchair on your left," Craig directed. Alma did as suggested, trying not to wake Ethan as she did so, though the carpet soaked up most of the sound of her feet. The material used was soft, comfy, and woven into the red fabric were birdseed-yellow depictions of leaves and flowers. Alma curled up and snuggled herself in between the matching pillows, resting her head on an arm, "Want some heating to go with that?""I don't see-""Yes or no?""...Yes, I guess... please."
A section of wall below the TV flipped over to reveal an electric heater. The bars began to glow red with warmth, and she could immediately feel the difference and sunk herself further into the couch, letting out a saurian purr of indulgence.
"As I was saying, Simon sent over a few photos of you and some of his inventions, The Simulator included. It's downstairs on the ground floor. Ethan built it exactly to the diagram's parameters. It should be exactly as it was before the Special Operations guys hit.""You mean... I can still use it?""Hmm... I will go and check. Wait a few seconds please."
It sounded as if he was leaving the room - which essentially he was. So while he was doing whatever business that needed doing, Alma let herself soak up the heat. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she could hear was Craig's voice rousing her eyelids open. When she regained consciousness, or partially did so, the house AI spoke again.
"Alma, if you can hear me properly, nod."
Alma did as instructed.
"Okay, was The Simulator modified to include the energy signature 193.68?""That's mine isn't it?""Yes.""It must have been, yes.""Then in that case, yes you will still be able to use it."
She simulated a small sigh of relief, and a long silence followed. Then Alma thought of something that perhaps she should have asked before, "So what was wrong with me, Craig? I mean, I know I'd run out of power, but what was the fuel?""Hydrogen.""Hidrowhat?""Hydrogen. H-y-d-r-o-g-e-n. Your fuel cell was a hydrogen fuel cell, or in other words, your fuel was water. You run out of fuel, you simply stop functioning. Amazing it lasted this long. Two and a half years is it since you came online? Remarkable, if I may say so myself.""...So in a sense, I... drank water...?""I guess you can say that.""Then how much do I take?""About two litres. That is about a litre a year. Either Simon has invented or improved a brand or the world's advanced much faster than I have been aware of.""Hmm.""So how is Newblood?""We've come to respect each other, I think."
Yes. Yes we have.
"Yes, he said so himself just then.""Well that is good.""What about Jamie?""Your former transport? She is on one of the other beds. Speaking of which, your three mercenary escorts are still here. Two are sharing a bed - heads at opposite ends of the bed if you were interested - and the other is resting in a chair. He's the one you saw when you woke up. Spectre."
Alma's eyelids opened further in interest, "That was Spectre?""I did say did I not?""Yeah, I just thought that they would never do that. Take their masks off I mean.""Apparently security protocol is relaxed come time for sleep.""...Hmm. But what about Jamie? Will she be okay? Does she need a hospital?""Gash to her head, but not too serious. The bruising on the bone will take a long while to heal though, and even if she did need proper medical assistance, a mainstream hospital would not be the place to go for help. Apparently you were hunted down by two agents? Jamie's car would be found by now, as with the agents' bodies. It would not take a genius to put two and two together. Put her in a hospital bed and she's sure to be found.""Oh... I feel really bad now.""Would you prefer me to be quiet and turn on the TV? You can watch or fall to sleep, either way, Ethan will not wake up; he is an extremely heavy sleeper.""Yes please, Craig."
The television switched on again, revealing the same news program where instead of news, it was time for general discussion amongst the hosts. Talking about common annoyances or everyday occurrences, chatting about what's in and out of fashion, gossiping about the newest movies in Hollywood. All really quite boring things. Alma simulated a yawn; none of what they laughed at was funny to her, half of the time she didn't even know what they were talking about. Maybe it was their heavy and unnecessary use of the word ‘like', or the fact they inflected their voices up at the ends of sentences, but they lost her interest. Her eyes began to feel sore as sleep became the higher want on her mind. Craig must have seen her lack of attention, because the TV went silent, and the white light it gave off ceased. Under the warmth of the heater, and the softness of the chair's cushion, and Craig's cameras, and Ethan's inconspicuous snoring, Alma finally felt safe. And with that in mind, her eyes shut out the light, and she went to sleep.
"I DON'T CARE!"
Alma woke up struggling; kicking and flailing her legs, tail and neck. In her panic she slid off the couch and landed heavily on the carpet. What woke her wasn't a nightmare; it was a yell, a yell from Jamie. It came from the kitchen. Propping her head up, she saw Ethan standing at the far side of the island counter of the kitchen. Jamie was leaning on the edge to his left with a thoroughly displeased look on her face. The trail marks of tears were also present on her cheeks. Spectre, Visage and Phantom were all outside in the open-air dining area talking amongst themselves, probably leaving Ethan and Jamie to sort out whatever quarrel was occurring. Currently, Jamie and Ethan had their heads turned towards Alma. She felt a little uncomfortable with the attention. Correction: very uncomfortable. When looking up, down, left right and centre didn't work, she tried to break the awkward silence with words, "Don't mind me... just... I'm fine.""Great, now you had to wake her up," Ethan said sternly, almost at shouting volume.
Jamie looked back at him as if she'd been insulted, "Brilliant. Bloody brilliant! It's always about her. What about me? Don't I get any attention?""I know how you feel-""Don't patronise me!" Jamie spat, "You have no idea how I feel! I had no part in this until she," she gestured towards Alma, who stepped back a step in surprise and guilt, "she stepped in front of my car!""Uh... I was caught up in a conversation with Newblood," Alma tried to make an excuse for herself.
"It's no different than a mobile phone while driving. And who the hell is Newblood again? Oh, that's right, he's a god damn military AI that the feds want for reasons unknown."
Alma closed her eyelids to slits, "If you're implying that I'm the same naïve self I was before, Jamie, you are sorely mistaken. I said, and I will repeat again, I am not like that anymore.""Sure you are- Oh god not again."
Jamie broke into tears again and dashed for the hallway and into a bedroom, slamming the door shut. Alma was surprised by the spectacle. Then she saw Ethan's head nodding for her to watch the television, which she failed to realise was switched on and had been on since before she was awake. It was another news program, though this was of a more serious kind; serious looking anchor, and the music and everything else. What the ‘everything else' part of it was was up to debate. Behind the anchor was a conjoined picture of a family and... Jamie...! Wait... no... but...
"Moving on to our top stories for this morning. Shock and horror, an entire family murdered overnight in Canada. Trent Westwood with more on the story."
Recorded segments of film flashed on the screen. The report was not live. A voiceover described the evident serenity of a street. "It was a quiet Wednesday morning in Kelowna, when all of a sudden, disaster struck." A shot from a helicopter circling the area of a burned down house. "A reunion gone horribly wrong. In the dark, the flames lit the night sky with an orange haze of smoke, blotting out the stars all around the city. An entire family had been lost." The screen then switched to a smiling family photo, with two... Jamies...? Their faces were highlighted as he announced, "The photo shown here, basically doubles as a victim line-up. Elderly couple, Brandon and Sasha Leclerc, their daughter, Mary, married to Randy Atkins, and one of their children, Alan, were all consumed in the fire. Valerie Atkins is still missing. Her sister and leading suspect, Jamie, is supposedly on the run." Alma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Video evidence and eyewitness reports indicate that at almost the same time as the house was burning, Jamie's silver Ford Ute was travelling away from Kelowna and heading for Seattle. Furthermore, as you might be able to see with this speed camera footage, it looks like there was someone else in the backseat. Now whether this is Valerie Atkins or an accomplice is yet to be decided. But we can say for sure this was an act of cold, calculated murder; the gas was left on, the doors were locked and barricaded. There was no conventional way out, if the victims even knew if they were in danger. Canadian officials are still baffled as to what the motive is, but all the evidence points to Jamie as the killer. Trent Westwood, CNN."
Alma stood still, mortified by what she heard, "This... She..." she stuttered, lost words, then she turned her head to Ethan and they flowed from her mouth, "It's fake! It's impossible! Jamie, she... She hit me with a car on Tuesday. They're making it up! And there was no evidence shown at all! No interviews!""I know," replied Ethan in the same tone of frustration, "They're setting it all up. It's all to make the public aware of her face; make them want to do something about it. But the fire and her family... that's all real.""So her mum and dad have-""Yep.""And grandparents?""Uh-huh.""And brother and sister?""Yeah.""By who?""Them, Alma; the ones after you; the ones who have Simon locked up in some cell somewhere; them."
Alma could hear Jamie's wailing even from behind the door, "But... why? Her whole family...""Means nothing to them: They were just another necessary casualty.""For the sake of what?"
Ethan threw his hands in the air, "They know you were travelling with her, so I guess they hope someone will report her before she reaches this place. Bit late now, but they don't know that."
Alma looked back to the television screen, where the news was moving to another topic, "It's all my fault... She doesn't deserve this...""Alma," Ethan had walked over to her silently and started snapping his fingers in front of her eyes, "unfortunate things happen. This same story - a family member suspected of murdering his or her entire family - has happened three times this week at least. This is a routine thing on the news. You go against them, you should expect the worse. Jamie just... Her case is no different from hundreds of others.""But I did this! I didn't tell her what she was getting into, and now her whole life's been ruined! Because of me!""Alma, what's done can't be undone. We all know that, and we all have to accept that.""Jamie won't.""She will have to if she wants to stay alive.""But...""Look, what would you want me to say, to her or to you? Everything's going to be all right? Well I can't say it, because everything's not all right, and it will never be like that any time soon.""I have to say something..." Alma insisted, "I... I didn't say sorry enough.""...My only advice to you is to give Jamie some time and space. She needs time to grieve. And judging by what she told me, she's probably blaming you right now.""I know... I just... I didn't mean for anything to happen. How was I to know they'd do this? I... Why?""Why what?""Why did Simon have to build me?"
Ethan's sympathetic look turned to a frown, "Alma, don't start heading down that path.""What path?"
Depression, pessimism, and all the like.
"Oh, yeah, yeah, right. But... If he knew there were going to be repercussions as severe as this... why?"
The sympathy in his face grew stronger, almost to the point of annoyance, "I have no idea. About anything really... I don't know why he built you, why he chose me to become your godfather-per-say, why he needed this LMC thingy-""Sir, if I may," Craig interrupted.
Sympathy turned to restrained annoyance, "Yes, Craig? And it's Ethan.""Sorry, Ethan, occupational hazard. But I think it's Alma's right to know the secondary reason why she was built."
Ethan couldn't see it, but Alma was both shocked and curious. Shocked that Ethan had perhaps lied to her to her face, - though she'd done the same to Jamie - and curious about what this other reason was, "You lie?""Yes, I did, only to spare you pain.""Simon did the same.""Ethan," Craig intervened again, "We both agreed that this would be inevitable, so just please cut to the chase for her sake.""Yes," agreed Alma, "please."
Alma could see regret in Ethan's eyes. It must have been about what he would have to tell her. ...Maybe... ...Maybe it was too early yet to hear the truth. ...Not yet. She didn't know what drove this thought but... Not yet.
"You know what...?" Alma said as she lowered Ethan's outstretched hand - poised ready to give a truth-filled speech, "never mind." Regret turned to surprise, "Maybe I shouldn't hear it yet," she echoed her mind, "maybe I should just... let it unfold. Not until we get Simon back.""But I owe you-""You owe me nothing. And frankly, by the way I've treated Jamie... I don't think I deserve anything.""But-""Not until we rescue Simon."
Ethan looked away and was silent in contemplation for a short while, then, like an epiphany had struck him, he turned his head back, gazed at her, and smiled in agreement. "Not until we rescue Simon," he repeated.
The glass door to the outside dining area opened and Spectre's head popped through, "Is the fight ov-" he stopped mid-sentence when he realised Alma was present, "-er... Uh... Nice to see you're up and in... working order...?""Good morning to you too, Spectre.""What about Jamie?""Bedroom," Ethan replied quickly.
"Ah, I see. So there's no longer a need for us to stay?""Not... that I can think of, no. But we'll stay in touch?""Yeah, I guess. C'mon you two, quit your bitching and let's go."
Alma cringed as she heard that word, but he was right; there was certainly a heated argument between Visage and Phantom. About what she couldn't tell; both were trying to talk over each other but it seemed Visage was accusing him of something. At the sound of his directions, the two dropped their fight and followed him through the hallway, giving each other fearsome looks as they proceeded.
"Spectre," Alma called out, and he stopped. She took hesitant steps towards him, "I... Thankyou for helping me."
His eyes and brows held a blank expression... masking something underneath maybe? Sympathy? Caring? He was extremely difficult to figure out. "Don't mention it," he replied after a small pause, then continued walking for the door, two grey cases in hand. No doubt they were filled with the seventy-five thousand dollars Ethan owed them. He exited the building.
Still, how was she supposed to interpret that? ‘Don't mention it'. Was that his version of ‘you're welcome'? It wasn't a pathetic attempt, more like a... like a failed attempt. Like he didn't have much social experience. Curious. Maybe that was the story of his life? Maybe Alma was analysing things too much. Maybe she should just stop thinking for a while. Shutting up now.
The days when things were simpler, hey?
"And what would you know about them? You said it yourself that you were practically asleep for the most part of my life, no?"
That doesn't mean I can't go through your memories.
"You WHAT?!"
Don't act like it's new news. I told you before. And... Look, I'm sorry if you feel violated, okay? I've never really known any life outside Damocles and...
"I'm a good source for what you should look forward to," Alma finished.
Precisely. And you seem to have had an enjoyable life up until recently.
"All thanks to Simon... I miss him...""As do I, Alma," Ethan intruded, though he had probably been listening in for a natural break in her speaking. She'd forgotten all about him, and about Craig, and Jamie. How did she not hear the crying? Ethan waddled closer to her and put his hand on the back of her neck, "and someday, we're going to get him back.""I was talking to Newblood.""I know, and it seems the two of you have come a long way."
That we have.
"That we have.""That's nice to know," Ethan smiled wider, and his eyes grew kinder, "Now, we've got to figure out how to deal with-""Incoming call, sir."
Ethan jumped to his feet and threw his hands up in annoyance, "Bloody hell, can there ever be no interruptions? Please?""Sorry sir," Craig apologised, Alma could see Ethan mouth under his breath ‘Ethan', "but this sounds to be more important than usual.""By important you mean what?""This caller is apparently a friend of Simon," Ethan raised his eyebrow at this, "he goes by the name of ‘Hellcat'.""Hellcat?" Alma repeated, stepping forward to one of the cameras, "You mean the Hellcat from Iceland?""You know him, Alma?" questioned Ethan.
"No," she admitted, "but Simon told me about him in a message he left for me. Something about that skeleton in Icel... I mean that skeleton in New Mexico. A living cell... He didn't cultivate it did he?""Yes," the house AI replied, "he did mention something about restoring something.""...Alma. Alma?" Ethan waved his hand in front of her unblinking face, jaw loose, "Alma, you there?"
Alma's simulated breathing became heavier and heavier and faster and faster. Excitement overwhelmed her. As Newblood was unintentionally taking over, she laughed harder and harder.
Newblood continued Alma's laugh. The change in voice was noticeable to everyone, even himself, but he didn't care. He'd never felt this happy before. He never felt happy before. He actually felt happy! It felt so fantastic! So wonderful! So wondrous! So brilliant! This was what he had been missing out on? How could he have never wanted it before? Why would he have never wanted it before?
"Alma? What's funny?""I'm... I'm not Alma... I'm Newblood," he replied, trying to stop laughing, "So... so what does Hellcat want?""He wants Alma... or Newblood... or... whichever," Craig stumbled over words, "He wants you to be transported to his laboratory in Reykjavik so he can carry out as Simon planned.""Which was what?""To apply skin.""...You hear that, Alma? You wish is finally granted."
I hear! HA! YES! YES YES YES!
"She hears. I'm ready if she's ready, so I guess we're ready.""Now hold up," Ethan stepped between Craig's camera and Alma's body. He had a worried expression on his face, and that expression worried Newblood, "Just wait one second, please. Craig, put Hellcat through.""Ethan, what's wrong?" Newblood asked.
The red-haired man turned his head to Alma's body, and opened his mouth to speak. The he shut it quickly once someone else's voice echoed in the space.
"Ethan Day, I presume?"
Ethan twisted his head back to the camera, "Yes, and Hellcat, it must be?""Correct.""Tell me, Hellcat, just what do you intend on doing with Alma?""Just as Simon instructed; add skin, muscle, organs, blood and bone. But of course to do that she needs to come here to Iceland. I'm not really keen on heading to the United States myself.""Okay," Ethan nodded, pacing around the living room space, "but then what do you intend to do about her life?""What?" Newblood and Hellcat queried at the same time.
"Must I repeat myself? What do you intend to do about her life?""I don't know what you mean."
Ethan slumped down into the armchair Alma had used as a bed the night before, "Alma's power source is a hydrogen fuel cell.""Yes...?""It's easily exposed when she's in her skeletal form, okay?""Yes...""So what do you propose happens the next time it needs changing?""Wait," interjected Newblood, "didn't you fix that?"
The man gave Alma's body a look of solemness, "Spectre and I took out the fuel cell and just poured water in it. It's crude. It will have less of a life than the proper thing. And it's custom made, probably by Simon. No replacements.""So...""So, Alma... or Newblood or... whoever! If you've got skin on that means we can't recharge the cell without conducting surgery. With less of a lifespan, that means the surgeries will be frequent and... and...""...I get it."
...I do too.
Newblood simulated aggravated sigh, the source of which came from Alma, partly fuelled by him too. Head lowered, he spoke, "So, Alma, it seems we're at a crossroads."Seems like we're at crossed roads? No, we are at crossed roads.
"The question remains nonetheless."
...I... I need a moment.
Newblood turned Alma's head to Ethan, "If you could excuse us?""Of course," Ethan answered, "get some air outside."
Not that I can breathe.
"Thankyou, Ethan," and Newblood walked Alma's feet out the front door. Behind him, Alma's ears could hear parts of the conversation Ethan was having.
"So... What is there to talk about?""Uh... How's the weather in Iceland?""Ha. Unpredictable. Sunny at six, blizzard at ten, vice versa, or something completely different.""Much fun?""Pardon?
"The cell. It actually came from the coelophysis?""Yup.""How'd it-""Survive this long? Adapted. Evolved. Whichever of the two - I get confused, even as a professional myself, I know.""So how did you ‘devolve' it? And use terms I can understand, please.""Ha. Well, it's all rather complicated so if you're interested you'd better listen nice and close. First I-"
The door shut. Newblood and Alma had to decide which was best for her. A life of scars, or a life of bones.Alma thought it before, and she'd think it a quadrillion more times, she hated all this sudden shutdowns and boot-ups. And to think that her ‘power source' had run out of ‘source' just before she made it to Ethan's. How far would have she trekked by foot before it happened? Without Jamie she'd probably have run out of power somewhere in the forests of Canada and be lost from knowledge for who knew how long. Simon wouldn't have planned for that to happen. Would he?
She should stop second-guessing herself. As Newblood said, pessimism wasn't good for the mind.
Her motor functions and four major senses returned, but her vision, again, annoyingly, was blurred. She was sick of waking up to seeing nothing but fuzzy outlines and coloured shadows. Alma curved her neck to her tail and stretched her limbs to their fullest extent, phalanges included; she just needed to strain out all the aches in her joints brought on from immobility. It felt good to finally move again, even if it was only a few minutes she had been awake for.
Her sight cleared finally. She observed she was in a room. A dark room. It was early morning - Alma could tell by the digital clock next to the bed, and by the small amount of light coming through the high window. Nothing really distinguished it from any other room she had seen, but then again she'd only ever seen Simon's house. What she meant was that there was a bedside table with an unlit lamp and lampshade; the bed was small - only able to accommodate one decent-sized person - and had dark red sheets; the walls were a cream colour, aside from the window wall which was red in almost the exact same hue as the bed sheet, as were the curtains of the window; and a bookcase with... all the books that were in her satchel lined in correct order.
Alma sat up. Was this where she thought she? It must be! There could be no other explanation! This was Ethan's house! She'd made it! With the help of complete strangers, yes, but she'd made it! Ethan had probably seen her already, so there would be no surprise when she'd see him. Alma would have liked to see his face when he had a proper look at all the effort Simon put into her. Not to brag, but Alma thought of herself as a work of art, even though she didn't feel like one.
Finally, you're awake.
She forgot all about Newblood.
Forget about little old me, did you? I've been waiting for the past ten hours!
"Newblood, calm your farm, cool your jets, and take a chill pill, in that order."
Ten hours! I was talking to myself for ten hours and you never said a word!
"How could I when I was out of power?"
And yet somehow I could say things?! Why didn't you say anything?!
"I heard everything," Alma admitted with a sad sigh, "The things you said... Sorry, and thankyou at the same time."
...I just... didn't want to be alone anymore.
"For the time being, however, you're permanently stuck with me."
I almost began to re-hate you.
"...I'm glad you didn't then."
You're telling me. So what now? Can't get back to sleep.
"I guess we're just going to have to wait around until morning."
It's already morning.
"I mean when everyone else wakes up."
Alma shimmied over and stretched out her hand to feel the bedside table for the lamp's light switch. Fumbling around cords, her fingers conclusively grasped the plastic bulge where the button was located, and pressed down. White light flooded both the room and her eyes. Great. Now she couldn't see for another few seconds. What a genius she was. When the colours of the world finally returned to her sight, Alma jumped. In the centre of the room was a person, slumping in a chair, head bowed down, rifle in his lap, wrists resting on barrel and butt, hair frizzed up, sleeping. The chair was facing the midpoint between Alma and the door, so whoever it was, he was protecting her... though not now of course. Maybe he had been awake for most of the night. Watching over her. Alma hopped down to the floor and looked up at his tired face; exhausted; dark rings around his eyes, though the light made it difficult to see how dark they were. Simon always had dark rings around his eyes, no matter how much sleep he had - if any at times - but this was not Simon. This watchdog had an air of having participated in one too many battles. A tired warrior would be the perfect description.
His breathing was slow, silent, and rhythmic - Alma had not disturbed him. Thankfully. The last thing she wanted for anyone was inconvenience. Then again, she'd brought enough inconvenience as it was to Jamie's life, changed it forever even, and Alma hated that. Maybe... Maybe if she'd just leave... things would go back to... no. No.
Don't be an idiot, she scolded herself, you know perfectly well they won't.
Quietly as she could, she stepped across the woollen carpet and into the hallway, and from the hallway into the living room. The kitchen lights on her right sensed her movement and turned on to reveal a full assortment of cooking utensils. Pots, pans, fireless stoves, spatulas, tongs, two sinks, a fridge, a pantry and long rows of overhead and below-waist cupboards, and an island counter. The floor there was terracotta coloured tile, and slightly rose above the rest of the flooring. One of the counters doubled as a wall; there was an opening filled with windows, all of which could be opened to the outdoor dining area. It would be easier to draw a picture than describe it. Currently, the windows were closed to keep the mosquitos out.
There was another entrance to the dining area - a sliding glass door and security door that gave admission to the living room yet again. The living room wasn't actually defined from the rest of the open space by walls or other obvious features, only one sofa and two armchairs, which surrounded a wooden coffee table that could easily be mistaken for a large mahogany footrest if it weren't for the thin draws on the front and rear faces. The chairs all faced towards a large borderless wall-mounted television. The TV was presently off, but the sofa was still occupied by someone. Alma walked closer, and the someone became a redheaded someone with a pillow and a blanket. It was Ethan, obviously, the only redhead she knew in her life. Well... she didn't exactly know him yet.
"Oh, it's just you," came an unfamiliar, simulated, male voice, "In that case you won't need breakfast.""No," Alma replied to the ceiling at low volume; she didn't want to wake Ethan unnecessarily, "Who are you?""I, madam, am Craig, the house's artificial intelligence, created by none other than Ethan Day himself.""The Ethan lying on the couch?""Yes.""What exactly does a house AI do?"
The TV turned on silently, volume on mute, and presented an early morning talk show. Four anchors sat around a bow-shaped sofa. Two women, two men. The one who was talking took charge of the segment that gave a brief summary of what happened while people were asleep. Alma heard what she had to say, "...uran Federation's investigation still hasn't discovered who the invader was, they now have the full cooperation of any and all nations directly affected by the war. Effectively, the mysterious invader may have caused the nations to work together under one banner. Leroy Jenkins with more-"
The TV switched off again, "As you can see, I have control over most of the house's basic functions. Security to television, coffee machine to Simulator. Frankly, I do anything Ethan is too lazy to do.""How's that for employment. But..." Alma cocked her head at a small camera she saw in the corner of the space, "you mentioned a ‘simulator'?""Yes, yes I did. Before Simon's house went dark - we presume that it was hit?"
Alma lowered her eyes in memory, "It was. Special Operations.""I see. Well... before you were... ahem... forcibly removed... Simon sent a few photos of you and some... oh how stupid of me making you stand there, would you prefer to take a seat?""I- yes please.""Spare armchair on your left," Craig directed. Alma did as suggested, trying not to wake Ethan as she did so, though the carpet soaked up most of the sound of her feet. The material used was soft, comfy, and woven into the red fabric were birdseed-yellow depictions of leaves and flowers. Alma curled up and snuggled herself in between the matching pillows, resting her head on an arm, "Want some heating to go with that?""I don't see-""Yes or no?""...Yes, I guess... please."
A section of wall below the TV flipped over to reveal an electric heater. The bars began to glow red with warmth, and she could immediately feel the difference and sunk herself further into the couch, letting out a saurian purr of indulgence.
"As I was saying, Simon sent over a few photos of you and some of his inventions, The Simulator included. It's downstairs on the ground floor. Ethan built it exactly to the diagram's parameters. It should be exactly as it was before the Special Operations guys hit.""You mean... I can still use it?""Hmm... I will go and check. Wait a few seconds please."
It sounded as if he was leaving the room - which essentially he was. So while he was doing whatever business that needed doing, Alma let herself soak up the heat. She must have dozed off, because the next thing she could hear was Craig's voice rousing her eyelids open. When she regained consciousness, or partially did so, the house AI spoke again.
"Alma, if you can hear me properly, nod."
Alma did as instructed.
"Okay, was The Simulator modified to include the energy signature 193.68?""That's mine isn't it?""Yes.""It must have been, yes.""Then in that case, yes you will still be able to use it."
She simulated a small sigh of relief, and a long silence followed. Then Alma thought of something that perhaps she should have asked before, "So what was wrong with me, Craig? I mean, I know I'd run out of power, but what was the fuel?""Hydrogen.""Hidrowhat?""Hydrogen. H-y-d-r-o-g-e-n. Your fuel cell was a hydrogen fuel cell, or in other words, your fuel was water. You run out of fuel, you simply stop functioning. Amazing it lasted this long. Two and a half years is it since you came online? Remarkable, if I may say so myself.""...So in a sense, I... drank water...?""I guess you can say that.""Then how much do I take?""About two litres. That is about a litre a year. Either Simon has invented or improved a brand or the world's advanced much faster than I have been aware of.""Hmm.""So how is Newblood?""We've come to respect each other, I think."
Yes. Yes we have.
"Yes, he said so himself just then.""Well that is good.""What about Jamie?""Your former transport? She is on one of the other beds. Speaking of which, your three mercenary escorts are still here. Two are sharing a bed - heads at opposite ends of the bed if you were interested - and the other is resting in a chair. He's the one you saw when you woke up. Spectre."
Alma's eyelids opened further in interest, "That was Spectre?""I did say did I not?""Yeah, I just thought that they would never do that. Take their masks off I mean.""Apparently security protocol is relaxed come time for sleep.""...Hmm. But what about Jamie? Will she be okay? Does she need a hospital?""Gash to her head, but not too serious. The bruising on the bone will take a long while to heal though, and even if she did need proper medical assistance, a mainstream hospital would not be the place to go for help. Apparently you were hunted down by two agents? Jamie's car would be found by now, as with the agents' bodies. It would not take a genius to put two and two together. Put her in a hospital bed and she's sure to be found.""Oh... I feel really bad now.""Would you prefer me to be quiet and turn on the TV? You can watch or fall to sleep, either way, Ethan will not wake up; he is an extremely heavy sleeper.""Yes please, Craig."
The television switched on again, revealing the same news program where instead of news, it was time for general discussion amongst the hosts. Talking about common annoyances or everyday occurrences, chatting about what's in and out of fashion, gossiping about the newest movies in Hollywood. All really quite boring things. Alma simulated a yawn; none of what they laughed at was funny to her, half of the time she didn't even know what they were talking about. Maybe it was their heavy and unnecessary use of the word ‘like', or the fact they inflected their voices up at the ends of sentences, but they lost her interest. Her eyes began to feel sore as sleep became the higher want on her mind. Craig must have seen her lack of attention, because the TV went silent, and the white light it gave off ceased. Under the warmth of the heater, and the softness of the chair's cushion, and Craig's cameras, and Ethan's inconspicuous snoring, Alma finally felt safe. And with that in mind, her eyes shut out the light, and she went to sleep.
"I DON'T CARE!"
Alma woke up struggling; kicking and flailing her legs, tail and neck. In her panic she slid off the couch and landed heavily on the carpet. What woke her wasn't a nightmare; it was a yell, a yell from Jamie. It came from the kitchen. Propping her head up, she saw Ethan standing at the far side of the island counter of the kitchen. Jamie was leaning on the edge to his left with a thoroughly displeased look on her face. The trail marks of tears were also present on her cheeks. Spectre, Visage and Phantom were all outside in the open-air dining area talking amongst themselves, probably leaving Ethan and Jamie to sort out whatever quarrel was occurring. Currently, Jamie and Ethan had their heads turned towards Alma. She felt a little uncomfortable with the attention. Correction: very uncomfortable. When looking up, down, left right and centre didn't work, she tried to break the awkward silence with words, "Don't mind me... just... I'm fine.""Great, now you had to wake her up," Ethan said sternly, almost at shouting volume.
Jamie looked back at him as if she'd been insulted, "Brilliant. Bloody brilliant! It's always about her. What about me? Don't I get any attention?""I know how you feel-""Don't patronise me!" Jamie spat, "You have no idea how I feel! I had no part in this until she," she gestured towards Alma, who stepped back a step in surprise and guilt, "she stepped in front of my car!""Uh... I was caught up in a conversation with Newblood," Alma tried to make an excuse for herself.
"It's no different than a mobile phone while driving. And who the hell is Newblood again? Oh, that's right, he's a god damn military AI that the feds want for reasons unknown."
Alma closed her eyelids to slits, "If you're implying that I'm the same naïve self I was before, Jamie, you are sorely mistaken. I said, and I will repeat again, I am not like that anymore.""Sure you are- Oh god not again."
Jamie broke into tears again and dashed for the hallway and into a bedroom, slamming the door shut. Alma was surprised by the spectacle. Then she saw Ethan's head nodding for her to watch the television, which she failed to realise was switched on and had been on since before she was awake. It was another news program, though this was of a more serious kind; serious looking anchor, and the music and everything else. What the ‘everything else' part of it was was up to debate. Behind the anchor was a conjoined picture of a family and... Jamie...! Wait... no... but...
"Moving on to our top stories for this morning. Shock and horror, an entire family murdered overnight in Canada. Trent Westwood with more on the story."
Recorded segments of film flashed on the screen. The report was not live. A voiceover described the evident serenity of a street. "It was a quiet Wednesday morning in Kelowna, when all of a sudden, disaster struck." A shot from a helicopter circling the area of a burned down house. "A reunion gone horribly wrong. In the dark, the flames lit the night sky with an orange haze of smoke, blotting out the stars all around the city. An entire family had been lost." The screen then switched to a smiling family photo, with two... Jamies...? Their faces were highlighted as he announced, "The photo shown here, basically doubles as a victim line-up. Elderly couple, Brandon and Sasha Leclerc, their daughter, Mary, married to Randy Atkins, and one of their children, Alan, were all consumed in the fire. Valerie Atkins is still missing. Her sister and leading suspect, Jamie, is supposedly on the run." Alma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Video evidence and eyewitness reports indicate that at almost the same time as the house was burning, Jamie's silver Ford Ute was travelling away from Kelowna and heading for Seattle. Furthermore, as you might be able to see with this speed camera footage, it looks like there was someone else in the backseat. Now whether this is Valerie Atkins or an accomplice is yet to be decided. But we can say for sure this was an act of cold, calculated murder; the gas was left on, the doors were locked and barricaded. There was no conventional way out, if the victims even knew if they were in danger. Canadian officials are still baffled as to what the motive is, but all the evidence points to Jamie as the killer. Trent Westwood, CNN."
Alma stood still, mortified by what she heard, "This... She..." she stuttered, lost words, then she turned her head to Ethan and they flowed from her mouth, "It's fake! It's impossible! Jamie, she... She hit me with a car on Tuesday. They're making it up! And there was no evidence shown at all! No interviews!""I know," replied Ethan in the same tone of frustration, "They're setting it all up. It's all to make the public aware of her face; make them want to do something about it. But the fire and her family... that's all real.""So her mum and dad have-""Yep.""And grandparents?""Uh-huh.""And brother and sister?""Yeah.""By who?""Them, Alma; the ones after you; the ones who have Simon locked up in some cell somewhere; them."
Alma could hear Jamie's wailing even from behind the door, "But... why? Her whole family...""Means nothing to them: They were just another necessary casualty.""For the sake of what?"
Ethan threw his hands in the air, "They know you were travelling with her, so I guess they hope someone will report her before she reaches this place. Bit late now, but they don't know that."
Alma looked back to the television screen, where the news was moving to another topic, "It's all my fault... She doesn't deserve this...""Alma," Ethan had walked over to her silently and started snapping his fingers in front of her eyes, "unfortunate things happen. This same story - a family member suspected of murdering his or her entire family - has happened three times this week at least. This is a routine thing on the news. You go against them, you should expect the worse. Jamie just... Her case is no different from hundreds of others.""But I did this! I didn't tell her what she was getting into, and now her whole life's been ruined! Because of me!""Alma, what's done can't be undone. We all know that, and we all have to accept that.""Jamie won't.""She will have to if she wants to stay alive.""But...""Look, what would you want me to say, to her or to you? Everything's going to be all right? Well I can't say it, because everything's not all right, and it will never be like that any time soon.""I have to say something..." Alma insisted, "I... I didn't say sorry enough.""...My only advice to you is to give Jamie some time and space. She needs time to grieve. And judging by what she told me, she's probably blaming you right now.""I know... I just... I didn't mean for anything to happen. How was I to know they'd do this? I... Why?""Why what?""Why did Simon have to build me?"
Ethan's sympathetic look turned to a frown, "Alma, don't start heading down that path.""What path?"
Depression, pessimism, and all the like.
"Oh, yeah, yeah, right. But... If he knew there were going to be repercussions as severe as this... why?"
The sympathy in his face grew stronger, almost to the point of annoyance, "I have no idea. About anything really... I don't know why he built you, why he chose me to become your godfather-per-say, why he needed this LMC thingy-""Sir, if I may," Craig interrupted.
Sympathy turned to restrained annoyance, "Yes, Craig? And it's Ethan.""Sorry, Ethan, occupational hazard. But I think it's Alma's right to know the secondary reason why she was built."
Ethan couldn't see it, but Alma was both shocked and curious. Shocked that Ethan had perhaps lied to her to her face, - though she'd done the same to Jamie - and curious about what this other reason was, "You lie?""Yes, I did, only to spare you pain.""Simon did the same.""Ethan," Craig intervened again, "We both agreed that this would be inevitable, so just please cut to the chase for her sake.""Yes," agreed Alma, "please."
Alma could see regret in Ethan's eyes. It must have been about what he would have to tell her. ...Maybe... ...Maybe it was too early yet to hear the truth. ...Not yet. She didn't know what drove this thought but... Not yet.
"You know what...?" Alma said as she lowered Ethan's outstretched hand - poised ready to give a truth-filled speech, "never mind." Regret turned to surprise, "Maybe I shouldn't hear it yet," she echoed her mind, "maybe I should just... let it unfold. Not until we get Simon back.""But I owe you-""You owe me nothing. And frankly, by the way I've treated Jamie... I don't think I deserve anything.""But-""Not until we rescue Simon."
Ethan looked away and was silent in contemplation for a short while, then, like an epiphany had struck him, he turned his head back, gazed at her, and smiled in agreement. "Not until we rescue Simon," he repeated.
The glass door to the outside dining area opened and Spectre's head popped through, "Is the fight ov-" he stopped mid-sentence when he realised Alma was present, "-er... Uh... Nice to see you're up and in... working order...?""Good morning to you too, Spectre.""What about Jamie?""Bedroom," Ethan replied quickly.
"Ah, I see. So there's no longer a need for us to stay?""Not... that I can think of, no. But we'll stay in touch?""Yeah, I guess. C'mon you two, quit your bitching and let's go."
Alma cringed as she heard that word, but he was right; there was certainly a heated argument between Visage and Phantom. About what she couldn't tell; both were trying to talk over each other but it seemed Visage was accusing him of something. At the sound of his directions, the two dropped their fight and followed him through the hallway, giving each other fearsome looks as they proceeded.
"Spectre," Alma called out, and he stopped. She took hesitant steps towards him, "I... Thankyou for helping me."
His eyes and brows held a blank expression... masking something underneath maybe? Sympathy? Caring? He was extremely difficult to figure out. "Don't mention it," he replied after a small pause, then continued walking for the door, two grey cases in hand. No doubt they were filled with the seventy-five thousand dollars Ethan owed them. He exited the building.
Still, how was she supposed to interpret that? ‘Don't mention it'. Was that his version of ‘you're welcome'? It wasn't a pathetic attempt, more like a... like a failed attempt. Like he didn't have much social experience. Curious. Maybe that was the story of his life? Maybe Alma was analysing things too much. Maybe she should just stop thinking for a while. Shutting up now.
The days when things were simpler, hey?
"And what would you know about them? You said it yourself that you were practically asleep for the most part of my life, no?"
That doesn't mean I can't go through your memories.
"You WHAT?!"
Don't act like it's new news. I told you before. And... Look, I'm sorry if you feel violated, okay? I've never really known any life outside Damocles and...
"I'm a good source for what you should look forward to," Alma finished.
Precisely. And you seem to have had an enjoyable life up until recently.
"All thanks to Simon... I miss him...""As do I, Alma," Ethan intruded, though he had probably been listening in for a natural break in her speaking. She'd forgotten all about him, and about Craig, and Jamie. How did she not hear the crying? Ethan waddled closer to her and put his hand on the back of her neck, "and someday, we're going to get him back.""I was talking to Newblood.""I know, and it seems the two of you have come a long way."
That we have.
"That we have.""That's nice to know," Ethan smiled wider, and his eyes grew kinder, "Now, we've got to figure out how to deal with-""Incoming call, sir."
Ethan jumped to his feet and threw his hands up in annoyance, "Bloody hell, can there ever be no interruptions? Please?""Sorry sir," Craig apologised, Alma could see Ethan mouth under his breath ‘Ethan', "but this sounds to be more important than usual.""By important you mean what?""This caller is apparently a friend of Simon," Ethan raised his eyebrow at this, "he goes by the name of ‘Hellcat'.""Hellcat?" Alma repeated, stepping forward to one of the cameras, "You mean the Hellcat from Iceland?""You know him, Alma?" questioned Ethan.
"No," she admitted, "but Simon told me about him in a message he left for me. Something about that skeleton in Icel... I mean that skeleton in New Mexico. A living cell... He didn't cultivate it did he?""Yes," the house AI replied, "he did mention something about restoring something.""...Alma. Alma?" Ethan waved his hand in front of her unblinking face, jaw loose, "Alma, you there?"
Alma's simulated breathing became heavier and heavier and faster and faster. Excitement overwhelmed her. As Newblood was unintentionally taking over, she laughed harder and harder.
Newblood continued Alma's laugh. The change in voice was noticeable to everyone, even himself, but he didn't care. He'd never felt this happy before. He never felt happy before. He actually felt happy! It felt so fantastic! So wonderful! So wondrous! So brilliant! This was what he had been missing out on? How could he have never wanted it before? Why would he have never wanted it before?
"Alma? What's funny?""I'm... I'm not Alma... I'm Newblood," he replied, trying to stop laughing, "So... so what does Hellcat want?""He wants Alma... or Newblood... or... whichever," Craig stumbled over words, "He wants you to be transported to his laboratory in Reykjavik so he can carry out as Simon planned.""Which was what?""To apply skin.""...You hear that, Alma? You wish is finally granted."
I hear! HA! YES! YES YES YES!
"She hears. I'm ready if she's ready, so I guess we're ready.""Now hold up," Ethan stepped between Craig's camera and Alma's body. He had a worried expression on his face, and that expression worried Newblood, "Just wait one second, please. Craig, put Hellcat through.""Ethan, what's wrong?" Newblood asked.
The red-haired man turned his head to Alma's body, and opened his mouth to speak. The he shut it quickly once someone else's voice echoed in the space.
"Ethan Day, I presume?"
Ethan twisted his head back to the camera, "Yes, and Hellcat, it must be?""Correct.""Tell me, Hellcat, just what do you intend on doing with Alma?""Just as Simon instructed; add skin, muscle, organs, blood and bone. But of course to do that she needs to come here to Iceland. I'm not really keen on heading to the United States myself.""Okay," Ethan nodded, pacing around the living room space, "but then what do you intend to do about her life?""What?" Newblood and Hellcat queried at the same time.
"Must I repeat myself? What do you intend to do about her life?""I don't know what you mean."
Ethan slumped down into the armchair Alma had used as a bed the night before, "Alma's power source is a hydrogen fuel cell.""Yes...?""It's easily exposed when she's in her skeletal form, okay?""Yes...""So what do you propose happens the next time it needs changing?""Wait," interjected Newblood, "didn't you fix that?"
The man gave Alma's body a look of solemness, "Spectre and I took out the fuel cell and just poured water in it. It's crude. It will have less of a life than the proper thing. And it's custom made, probably by Simon. No replacements.""So...""So, Alma... or Newblood or... whoever! If you've got skin on that means we can't recharge the cell without conducting surgery. With less of a lifespan, that means the surgeries will be frequent and... and...""...I get it."
...I do too.
Newblood simulated aggravated sigh, the source of which came from Alma, partly fuelled by him too. Head lowered, he spoke, "So, Alma, it seems we're at a crossroads."Seems like we're at crossed roads? No, we are at crossed roads.
"The question remains nonetheless."
...I... I need a moment.
Newblood turned Alma's head to Ethan, "If you could excuse us?""Of course," Ethan answered, "get some air outside."
Not that I can breathe.
"Thankyou, Ethan," and Newblood walked Alma's feet out the front door. Behind him, Alma's ears could hear parts of the conversation Ethan was having.
"So... What is there to talk about?""Uh... How's the weather in Iceland?""Ha. Unpredictable. Sunny at six, blizzard at ten, vice versa, or something completely different.""Much fun?""Pardon?
"The cell. It actually came from the coelophysis?""Yup.""How'd it-""Survive this long? Adapted. Evolved. Whichever of the two - I get confused, even as a professional myself, I know.""So how did you ‘devolve' it? And use terms I can understand, please.""Ha. Well, it's all rather complicated so if you're interested you'd better listen nice and close. First I-"
The door shut. Newblood and Alma had to decide which was best for her. A life of scars, or a life of bones.
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