13

"Hey, what's this?"

I direct my attention to the small object that Koyomi retrieves from under the passenger seat I'm sitting on. A black, rectangular plastic device about the size of a paper-back book, and only a couple centimeters thick. She holds it up for me to see better, showing the side with a blank white screen.

It takes a second for me to recognize it. "That's my Kindle. I'd forgotten all about that." It must have bounced under the seat when I crashed.

"Is it anything like the data pads we use?" Ido asks through the open driver's side door.

He and Alita are finishing up placing their haul of parts onto the small tarp I had on hand. The tarp itself is spread out on the driver's side of the surface of the road, near the rear wheel, where I watched them lay it out earlier.

"Uh, kinda," I respond with a glance at the Kindle in Koyomi's hand. "It's specialized for reading books in digital format."

Koyomi sets the Kindle on the dashboard in front of me. My gaze lingers on the little device for a moment and my mind wanders as memories flood in, causing me to miss something that Ido says. I shake myself back to awareness and turn towards the driver's side where Ido's standing, leaning partway into the cab.

Apologetically, I raise my eyebrows at him as I ask, "Sorry, what was that?"

"We're going to grab a quick bite to eat," Ido says patiently. "Are you alright here?"

I almost shrug and tell him 'yes', then quickly change my mind. "Actually, if it's alright, I'd like to sit in the back."

Despite this nagging sense that I'm somehow overstepping bounds, Ido and Alita seem quite happy to help me into the bed of the truck, where I lean up against the back of the cab. Having helped me into position, Ido settles down nearby, taking a seat on the passenger-side wheel well. Koyomi finds a spot near the now-open tailgate, her back against the sidewall of the bed. Alita hops back out, and comes around to stand leaning against the side of the truck near Ido, her forearms crossed and resting on the top of the sidewall. Ido and Koyomi start in on their food, while Alita nibbles absently on her own, staring off into the distance as if lost in thought.

Having no real appetite, I lean my head back and look up at the open sky, framed on either side by the tall evergreens. The sun is overhead now, probably just after noon and I close my eyes against it's brightness, feeling it warm my face. Unneeded for the moment, the harness lays on the floor of the bed near me. Next to it is my jacket, which I'm grateful to finally get out of as well. It had been making me sweat profusely in this warm jungle climate, and I take a moment to enjoy the faint breeze as it cools my skin.

Thoughts blur together until they're just a rushing sound in my head. I take a deep breath and very slowly let it back out, trying to shake off this darkening mood, to no avail. My depression, doing what it will, and I'm just along for the ride. My thoughts begin to fixate on that Kindle and the events leading up to my drive that day. Frustration and helplessness wash over me, leaving a deep melancholy in it's wake. I shift position in an almost unconscious attempt to escape the feeling.

Barely aware of it, I mutter aloud, "Shit." Pressing my hand to my forehead, I slowly rub at it as if massaging away a headache, trying not to draw attention to myself as I make a vain attempt to throw off this change in mood. In typical fashion, I fail at both subtlety as well as escaping this new wave of depression.

"You alright, Jason?" Ido inquires conversationally.

With a nod, I lower my hand and open my eyes, looking away from him to gaze off into the little forest of evergreens. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was-" My brain stumbles over numerous explanations that all try to come out at once. A quick, vigorous shake of the head to try and make something fall into place, "I was just thinking."

"Something on your mind?" Ido presses gently.

Without taking my eyes off the forest, I give a brief, softer shake of the head, "No, it's nothin'."

"It certainly didn't seem to be 'nothing'," he persists.

His tone remains casual, but something in it tells me that he's not going to let this go that easily.

I can almost feel the other two staring at me. 'You've had a pretty severe breakdown under his roof, and he's well aware of you're mental illness. And now, of course, finding out that you really are from way out of town. Is it really so bad that he's worried about you? There's no reason not to trust him.'

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, pulling in the scent of the forest and jungle. Letting it back out slowly, I open my eyes and turn to look at Ido. Sure enough, I have the attention of the other two. Koyomi tries to hide it by continuing to eat, but Alita is openly looking at me, her expression patient but alert. Something about the way her eyebrows arch over her large eyes makes her look almost like a bird of prey to me.

Shifting position once more to get comfortable, I begin slowly, trying to put my thoughts together, "I was just thinking about the day that anomaly hit me. I had everything packed up." Resting my head against the glass of the rear window behind me, I look off into the distance, over the treetops further up the road. "Clothes, pills, a little extra food, just in case. I was sittin' in this truck, just about to start it up, when the idea hits me that maybe I should bring something else." I give a little shrug, "I dunno why, maybe in case I had trouble sleepin' or something, I could do some reading. On impulse I hopped out, went back into the apartment and spent two minutes or so looking for that Kindle. Once I had it, I came back out, tossed it onto the passenger seat and drove off."

Closing my eyes, I knock my head a couple times against the window I'm leaning on, feeling the faint pain of each impact, "I was all set to go. Why didn't I just leave? Why did I have to go back for that damned thing?" Painful emotions well up, and I feel my brow tighten and furrow as I fight to keep them from my face. "Two minutes. Two minutes at almost sixty miles an hour would have put me way past the point where that anomaly hit." Opening my eyes halfway, I stare at the floor of the truck bed and quietly mutter, "I'm such a fucking idiot."

There's a sudden impact on the side of my head as something small and light bounces off it. It's not particularly painful, but I certainly feel it. Startled, I look over in the direction of Ido and Alita to see where it came from. Ido and Koyomi are both looking at Alita with expressions of mild surprise. Koyomi seems unsure of how to react as she watches this little scene unfold with a wary look in her eyes.

Alita is staring at me, her eyebrows drawn down in an annoyed look, both her hands empty. A quick glance downward shows me what's left of her snack bar lying next to me where it landed after bouncing off my skull. I look back up at her and blink, momentarily speechless.

"Stop that," she says evenly, "or I'll throw something heavier at you."

The shock passes and I look questioningly at Ido. He merely shrugs, a tranquil expression on his face. There's a quiet 'snerk' from Koyomi as she quickly stifles a laugh. When I glance over at her, she straightens her features and goes back to nibbling on her food as if nothing happened.

Alita glances over at the roadway stretching off into the woods behind the truck, "You can't undo this, and you're not to blame for it." Turning a piercing gaze on me, her voice becomes both stern and sympathetic, "So stop beating yourself up over it. I'm truly sorry about what happened," she gestures towards the jungle, "but you need to focus on this world, now."

Wearing a more somber expression, Ido spreads his hands, saying, "She's right. I really wish there were something we could do to send you home, but..." he shrugs sadly. "At the very least, this does help me understand you a little better. If it's any consolation, what I said before still stands; you'll have a place with us until I can get you fixed up." A glance of fatherly affection in his adopted daughter's direction, "As long as Alita's okay with it."

Alita gives a slight shrug, saying to me, "Well, you haven't been any real trouble," her voice and expression become playfully menacing, "Yet." Despite the playfulness in her tone, the menace brings on brief memories of the shocking violence I've seen her commit.

Even so, the depression lifts a little, but even a little is like a tremendous weight being lifted from me. I manage a smile, or something approaching one, at least, "Yeah, you're right." I direct my attention more towards Alita, "I just..." At a loss for what else to say, I just trail off and look away.

"I hope you see how lucky you are," Koyomi chimes in. At my slightly puzzled look, she elaborates, "Imagine if Ido's clinic hadn't been the closest medical facility. What do you think another clinic would have done? Or even the hospital? Once they realized they couldn't fix you, they'd have probably kicked you out on your ass, if you're lucky." She lowers her voice a bit, "Especially the hospital. In your situation, they'd have probably found some way to make use of you." She fixes me with a pointed look, as if to hint at ominous possibilities.

I nod silently. Chief among those 'ominous possibilities'; getting turned into parts for organ transplants to be used on people looking to keep their organic bodies. I'd heard stories, and in this world, I can imagine them being at least partly true.

"Believe me," I say to her, "I'm well aware of how lucky I got." A glance down at my amputated legs, "I just have to keep reminding myself." Feeling that something more needs to be said, I try to find the words, but fail.

There's a moment of somber silence that Koyomi breaks. With a gleam of excitement in her eyes, she says to me, "So, let's hear it."

I grunt questioningly at her, "Hear what?"

She sits up straighter and leans in my direction slightly, "What was it like growing up? You know, six-hundred years ago?"

With some added encouragement from Alita (Ido merely listens with an interested look), I reluctantly go into some of my childhood. The change in subject helps to ease my anxiety and depression a bit more. I share some stories about growing up in Alaska, a couple close run-ins with grizzly bears while camping, the time my brother, Michael and I raced sled dogs. The hunting trips we sometimes found the time to take together, where we managed to take down a moose or two.

"Wait, wait, wait," Koyomi interrupts. "You went out and hunted animals for food? With guns?" She sounds absolutely incredulous. "And that was legal?" Her voice nearly squeaks at the end of that last question.

Smiling faintly, I nod, "Yeah. Like I said, I grew up around guns. Shotguns, pistols, huntin' rifles. None of it was out of the ordinary where I lived. Mom even hunted, back before my brother and I were born. She learned to shoot from Dad, who'd been a marksman in the Army." A detail I add with some small amount of pride.

"Ah yes, your father was in the military, wasn't he? I remember you mentioning that before," Ido comments unexpectedly. I hadn't realized he was even paying that much attention. "Were others in your family in the military?"

I nod, "Yep. About a year after I joined the Air Force, Michael joined the Navy." It surprises me how good it feels to talk to someone about my past. Maybe it just feels good to not have to hide it, anymore.

Koyomi looks at me, seemingly impressed for some reason. "Wow, so you must be a really good shot, then."

"Not really, no," I respond matter-of-factly. "I mean, I used to be pretty good, but shootin's what you'd call a perishable skill. If it's not exercised, it atrophies, and the last time I touched a gun was about twenty years ago."

Alita rests her chin on her folded hands, her eyes holding intense interest, "Why's that?"

For just a second I consider not answering, but after all these years, the reason has become just another aspect of my life. Almost like what kind of food I like best, or that time I had my appendix taken out. Almost.

"I used to own a .45 caliber handgun. It was a Ruger, good quality weapon, never jammed on me. Bought it after gettin' out of the military."I pause to take a quick breath, "When I was around 32 years old, life took a nosedive and I fell into one of the worst depressions I've ever dealt with." I shrug, stating almost emotionlessly, "One evening, I put that gun to my head and came within a hair's breadth of pulling the trigger. Oddly enough, it was stolen not long after that. Ever since then, I never owned another gun." I take a quick drink of water, ignoring the looks the other's give me. "That aside, if I ever got my hands on a gun again, I'm pretty sure I could use it. I'd probably have a hard time hittin' the broad side of a barn, however." A quick shrug, "At least until I'd had some practice."

A rather heavy silence follows that confession of near-suicide, and I decide to try changing the subject. I turn to Ido, "You mind if I ask you a question, about your bounty huntin'?"

Ido glances in Koyomi's direction, his expression bordering on uncomfortable, "I suppose so, depending on what it is." Since I've been staying with them, I've been getting the impression that Ido keeps his 'extra-curricular' activities relatively quiet.

But, since he seems okay with it, I ask away, "Well, I've seen the kind of power Alita's Motorball body possesses, even without any of that fancy Martian tech in it." He and Alita both nod affirmative. "I've also recently had some experience with how strong a 'civilian' cyborg can be." I shrug and manage a faint, wry smile. Getting no reaction to my rather lame attempt at humor, I hurry on, "So, I was curious, how have you survived all this time against targets like that? Or do you have some augmentations hidden in there somewhere?" I nod towards his seemingly all-organic body.

"Ah, that." He reaches down and picks up his hat to hold it gently by the brim, letting it hang between the first two fingers and thumb of each hand. "No, I have no augmentations of any kind. So a good deal of my success could be attributed to my weapon. It's a custom-built rocket hammer."

My eyebrows go up in genuine surprise at that. "You have a- what, seriously?"

Ido smiles, seemingly pleased at my reaction, "Seriously. I had originally built it for a Motorball paladin, but..." The smile fades a bit and his gaze drops to the floor.

"Ah." I nod understandingly. This must have been around the time his daughter was killed. I hurry onward, "So, what's this thing look like? I mean, how big is it? How's it work?"

Gesturing with his hands, Ido describes a weapon about twice the size of a ten-kilo (round about twenty pounds) sledge hammer, with a head as big as an American-style football. Possibly bigger, actually. "The front face of the head has a large armor-piercing spike. The rocket motor on the back end produces enough thrust that I've been able to cave in chest plates or cut through a cyborg's arm," Ido makes a chopping motion with a free hand against the elbow of his other arm. "It has a revolving cylinder that holds four fuel cells. Each one can sustain the rocket for about half a dozen uses." The cylinder he describes is very much like what you might see on a four-shot revolver.

"It's an excellent weapon," Alita chimes in proudly, with a glance at Ido. "Well balanced." Considering who's saying it, that certainly sounds like high praise.

Despite my efforts to suppress it, a sense of excitement causes one side of my mouth to come up in a slight grin. "Good lord," I say, genuinely impressed. "I've seen weapons like that in stories and movies, but you really built one."

"Indeed," Ido says with a nod. "Perhaps, if you're interested, I could let you have a look at it when we get back to the clinic?"

I feel my grin get bigger, "Yeah, that'd be great!" It catches me a little off-guard, how excited I am at the prospect of seeing a real life rocket hammer. My mood lifts considerably.

I suppose it's my old interests in science fiction stories and technology resurfacing again. It surprises me that it can still happen, considering where I've ended up.

After a little more discussion of the technical aspects of Ido's unusual weapon, it's decided that we should be heading back. The other's begin packing everything up, while I sit and look around at this little piece of what was once home. Once again, my mood takes a bit of a dive, and I'm hit with the almost overwhelming desire to stay. A part of me is tempted to beg them to leave me here. I really don't want to go back to Iron City, or that clinic, however welcoming Ido and his little family have been. Considering what's involved in getting me through the gate, it might be a very long time, or never until I can see this place again.

The truck is closed up as well as it can be, considering the damaged driver's side door, then Alita climbs into the bed to help me back into the harness.

"Hold up a sec," I say, putting up my hand to forestall her. I glance at both her and Ido, and swallow the lump that forms in my throat, "Could I just have a moment? Please?"

Alita opens her mouth to say something, but instead looks over at Ido.

Ido nods, "Let's give him some space."

The three of them retreat a little ways off to wait.

I sit in the bed of my old pickup truck and take a last look out at the forest. Tears try to well up, but I blink them away. Homesickness sends a spike of heartache through my chest, but the pain isn't quite that bad this time. I reach over and gently rub at the unfeeling cybernetic interface system implanted on the end of my residual arm. Becoming acutely aware of the blindness of my inoperative right eye, I close both eyes. Just how much more of me is this world going to take?

A little voice in the back of my mind utters a plaintive cry, 'I want to go home.' I ignore it and instead whisper a prayer under my breath, "Thank you, for granting me this moment." The breeze picks up, rustling the boughs of the evergreens, almost as if in response.

After a few minutes, footsteps approach and I hear Ido's voice nearby, "Jason?"

Opening my eyes, I look over to see Ido standing at the side of the truck, one hand on the top of the side wall of the bed.

Taking a deep breath, I nod to him and quietly say, "Yeah, it's time to go."

Alita hops back into the bed of the truck and helps me get into the harness, then puts my jacket back on me. Her motions seem a little slower, gentler somehow. Slipping her arms back into the shoulder straps she lifts me up and we climb down out of the truck bed, where she effortlessly picks up the bundle of parts and other items wrapped in the tarp. Carrying her additional cargo, she moves to rejoin the others, and we begin making our way northward back up the road. I turn and watch over my shoulder as my old pickup shrinks into the distance. After some travel, another glance back finds that the curve in the road has put trees between me and the final resting place of my truck.

'The last vestiges of home.' With more determination that I'd thought myself capable of, I push the thought away. There is no home to go back to. That place died hundreds years ago. It's a thought that leaves me cold and empty.

Upon reaching the end of the road, just before the boundary line, Alita stops and turns partway around. It takes me a moment to realize she's letting me have one last look. The others pause with her, then the moment passes and she steps over the line into the jungle and turns westward. Leaving what remains of my world behind.

I'm unable to hide the sadness, as I say to her in a voice just above a whisper, "Thanks." In response, she simply nods, and briefly frees up one hand to gently pat my arm.

We make it back around the western side of the circle and reach the little animal trail we used to get here. As we make our way along the trail, sleeplessness catches up to me and it becomes more and more difficult to keep my eyes open. After another quick rest stop, we continue on. Aside from Ido cataloging his finds, the group is quiet. During the last hour I'm unable to keep myself from falling into sporadic sleep.

The next time I'm awakened, we're finally back at the van. The sun has gotten much lower in the sky, indicating a great deal more time has passed than I'd realized. My best estimate puts it somewhere around four in the afternoon. The sun will set in another couple hours or so. I now feel even more exhausted and run down. I'm set into the back seat with Ido, while Alita takes the front. As soon as Koyomi starts us back down the little dirt road towards Iron City, I'm already dozing off. The others discuss dropping by the Sheffield's farm to give me a chance to visit with Henry and Loretta, but it's decided that it's still too early in the day and they'll likely be busy. Although I agree with their assessment, I can't help but feel a certain disappointment. Would have been nice to see them again.

I drop in and out of wakefulness, listening to the sound of conversation drift back from up front, Alita and Koyomi discussing all that they found out in that forest. My weariness becomes painfully heavy, but I'm unable to fall entirely asleep. After a time, Ido is softly snoring, having dozed off in the seat next to me with his head leaning against the window on his side.

By the time we stop to transfer me to to the cargo area, the sun is nearly to the horizon. As before, Ido rides in the back with me for a bit, until we get closer to the city walls. Very little is said, with a sleepless night catching up to me, and the days events clearly affecting Ido.

In seemingly no time at all, we reach the point at which I'm closed into my crate, then the other boxes and smaller crates are stacked on top. This time I crack the valve on my oxygen bottle ahead of time, just in case. Wrapping my jacket a little more tightly around myself, despite the warm temperature, I send out a silent prayer.

'If it be thy will, please let us pass safely. Don't let my presence endanger the others.'

A cynical voice within comments, 'That's a little overly dramatic, don't you think?'

'I'm tired. Shut up. Go away.' Before I know it, I've fallen asleep in the darkness of my little hiding place.

A loud, mechanical voice reverberates through the air, awakening me with a start, "INITIATING SCAN. REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE."

Dull fear coils itself in my chest, but knowing that I am powerless to affect the outcome of whatever occurs seems to grant me a certain sense of calm acceptance. It may also be the mild sedative that Ido had once again given me earlier. I close my eyes in the dark and wait for the feeling of high-velocity rounds ripping through my body.

The scan for reentry into the city is a half hour longer than the one to leave. At the end of it, we are cleared to pass. The van gently lurches into motion and I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Time seems to both fly by and drag as I wait for the last stop to arrive. When it does, it isn't long before I get the sense that I'm being carried. Another brief sensation, like an elevator descending, then the lid of my crate is quickly unlocked and flung open to reveal everyone standing around looking down at me. The closest is Gerhad.

"You alright?" she asks with faint concern.

"Yeah," I respond, holding my arm out to her. "Get me outta this thing."

Alita gently pushes past Gerhad and reaches down to effortlessly lift me out of the crate, quickly depositing me into my wheelchair. As she does so, Ido hangs up his hat and coat. Koyomi stands off to the side, looking a little lost.

"Okay," Gerhad says, looking intently at Ido and Alita, "everything's unloaded. Now, you gonna tell me what you found out there?"

I remain silent, figuring it best if the others explain what they found.

Ido turns to the nurse, puts his hands on his hips and looks briefly down at the floor, as if gathering his thoughts. Then he raises his eyes to look at her. "It's true," he states flatly."All of it."

Gerhad blinks at him. "What, exactly?" she asks blankly.

Koyomi steps forward, one arm folded over her chest, hand clasping the bicep of the arm still hanging at her side. "We found the circle of trees, and the truck. Just like Jason said." She flings her arms outward a ways in a shrug, "It was all there. We even brought some of it back."

Ido gestures towards bundled tarp sitting nearby. "The trees, the vehicle, everything there was just like Jason. None of it showed up on any of my scans." He gazes evenly at Gerhad, "It was the damnedest thing. Like something had taken a piece of the jungle and neatly swapped it out with a little bit of forest from somewhere else, including the road Jason was driving on, and his truck. I brought back samples. His vehicle was definitely ancient. It's technology, I mean. Hundreds of years out of date, from the looks of it."

Gerhad looks down at me, the disbelief on her features fading. Then she looks around at the others, "Okay then, what do we do now?"

"The same thing we've been doing," Alita asserts. "We help him."

"Well, of course," Gerhad responds with a gentle patience, "but besides that?"

Ido takes a deep breath before stating, "Tomorrow, I'm going to start running some tests on the samples I recovered and see if I can learn anything new. But first, I think we should get cleaned up. Then we'll sit down to dinner and further discuss things." He turns to Koyomi, "Would you care to join us?"

Koyomi answers immediately, "Oh, you bet." She looks over at me with an excited expression, clearly thrilled with everything that's happened.

Hard for me to blame her. In my younger years I'd have been beyond excited about something so out of the ordinary falling into my humdrum life. It's a little different to be the object of exciting and unusual events, however. Especially given the circumstances.

"I'm guessing you'd like a shower, as well?" Gerhad asks me.

I give a fervent nod, "Oh yeah. Definitely." I become all too aware of feeling grimy, exhausted and a little sore.

"Alright, I'll grab some towels and meet you up there." Then she ushers me off to the elevator.

Once I start heading up in the elevator, I hear Koyomi talking excitedly behind me.

"Can you believe this?" she effuses, presumably to Alita. "He's actually a real time traveler! It's like one of those science fiction stories! And what do you think could have done all that to those trees?" Any further words are made indecipherable by the sounds of the elevator working and the distance it puts between me and the others.

In spite of knowing I probably shouldn't take too long, I can't help sitting under the hot shower, luxuriating in the feel of the water washing away the sweat and dirt. The hot water also soothes the aching I feel in my residual limbs, just above the implants. I'm not sure why they ache like that, and I suppose I should tell someone, but I decide it's just not that important to bother others with. I almost doze off, when Gerhad's voice jolts me back to wakefulness.

Sitting on a little nearby stool, gently scrubbing my back, she comments, "So. You really are six-hundred years old."

Keeping my eyes closed, I nod as little rivulets of water run over me and down my face. "Yep. Thereabouts, at any rate." Lazily, I add, "I think I look pretty good for my age."

She chuckles softly in response, then says, "First a three-hundred-year old Martian cyborg, and now you. Not the kind of patients I ever imagined we'd get around here. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

Letting my head hang a bit, I open my eyes to look down at the floor of the shower, past the mechanical additions on the ends of my abbreviated legs. After a stretch of silence, I quietly say, "You know, I kinda envy Alita." As soon as the words leave my mouth, a part of me hopes I wasn't heard over the sound of the shower.

She pauses her gentle scrubbing to ask, "Oh? How so?"

I hesitate before answering. "Well, despite the frustration that must come with her amnesia, at least she doesn't remember the life she lost. She got to start over again, more or less."

There's a somewhat uncomfortable stretch of quiet before Gerhad resumes scrubbing and responds with a gentle, yet scolding tone, "That may not be nearly the blessing you think it is. There are pieces of herself she's still trying to recover, and she may not ever get them back. I can only imagine what that's like for her, being incomplete in that way. Certainly doesn't seem like something you should wish for."

Stung by her words and tone, I consider that for a moment, then nod. "Yeah, guess you're right," I respond quietly. Keen regret digs into me at having said such a thing out loud. Hell, for even thinking it.

"Mhm," is her only response, uttered in that 'of course I'm right' tone, and I can't help but smile at it. Then she reaches past me and turns off the water.

There's an inward cry, 'Noooooo, not that! Anything but that...' as the blessedly warm and soothing water ceases. Outwardly, I merely sigh in resignation.

"Come on," she says, her voice returning to it's gentler tone. She drapes a towel over my shoulders. "We gotta get back down." She begins drying off my right arm. "Sorry about not believing you, by the way," she adds after a moment.

"Don't be," I respond wearily. "In your shoes, I wouldn't have believed me, either. And I probably wouldn't have shown as much compassion as you all have."

"Oh, I don't know about that. You seem-"

"I do know," I say abruptly, firmly cutting her off. "You all have shown me more kindness than I'd have ever expected from anyone in a place like this." Pulling my arm away from her, I hold the towel she put over my shoulders around myself like a cloak, and turn to look at her as I say in a steady voice, "If I'd grown up here, I don't know if I'd have been so kind. Thank you. For everything."

She's silent for a heartbeat, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Then she becomes serious, though her voice holds a note of playfulness, "Keep talking like that and you're gonna make me tear up." With that, she drops her towel over my head and dries my hair none-too-gently.

"Okay, okay! Not so rough," I say loudly, unable to stifle a laugh as her teasing eases the awkward tension.

Dinner that evening feels a lot like a family get-together, as the others gather around the table to discuss the day's findings. At Ido's invitation, Gerhad stays as well, eager to hear the details of what was encountered out in the Badlands, though some disbelief still lingers. Disbelief that is dispelled when Ido and Alita present some of the findings, including a couple small parts from my truck. They're obviously primitive construction, compared to what she's used to seeing.

Despite being tinged with a strange detachment, my mood is significantly improved. It is with some surprise that I find myself smiling more, and even laughing a bit as I actually manage to joke around some, while we talk about the day's events. For the first time since coming to this world, I feel as if I can actually be myself, and not have to worry about hiding who I am and where I'm from. Almost reflexively, I attempt to distance myself from this feeling, with varying degrees of success as the evening wears on.

After we're done eating, we head into the living room area where we continue conversing. Me in my wheelchair, Gerhad in the cushioned chair next to me with Koyomi, Alita and Ido on the couch across from us. After a bit more talk, eventually the subject of Alaskan camping comes up, and I go into it in a bit more detail.

"So, you and your family would head off into the woods, and just live out there for a few days?" Gerhad's voice matches her somewhat befuddled expression. "And this was something you all considered fun?"

Smiling crookedly, I shrug, "Yeah. It was nice to get away from everything for a little while." I stare off into the distance as I go on, "During the day, we'd go fishing or hike around and explore. At night we'd gather around the campfire and talk about," I shrug again, "whatever. No sounds of vehicles, or other people. No city noise. Just the sounds of the forest, wind rustling through the trees and the occasional animal off in the distance." For just a second, I can almost smell wood smoke in clean mountain air.

Then I pull myself back to the present and look around at them, "Guess it sounds kinda silly to you guys."

Koyomi shakes her head, "No. That actually sounds kinda nice." Her mouth turns down in a slight frown as her gaze goes past me to the windows, "Getting out of this city, going somewhere quiet like that."

Alita puts her hand over Koyomi's and gives it a gentle squeeze. In the glance the two of them give one another, I get the barest glimpse of a shared pain that's briefly written on both their faces.

Then Koyomi's frown disappears and she looks over at me, seemingly her more cheerful self again, "Yeah, that actually sounds kinda nice, being able to do something like that with your family." She looks out the windows again, "Well, it's gettin' late, so I'd better head home. Gotta get an early start in the morning."

With that, our little circle breaks up. Alita and Ido give Koyomi a quick hug good-bye.

Turning towards Gerhad, Koyomi asks her, "How 'bout a ride home? Save you a taxi fare and you're not far out of my way."

Gerhad quickly replies with a smile, "I'd love that, thank you."

"I'll join you," Alita says, as Gerhad moves to join Koyomi. "Make sure you two get home okay."

As the three women say their good-byes to Ido and I, the thought occurs to me that Alita may just want to talk with the other two for a bit longer. After all, it's not like she'll be in any danger walking home, even at this late hour. I can't imagine that any criminal sorts would be stupid enough to try anything, considering her reputation.

'And if there are criminals that stupid?' I think to myself with a touch of grim humor, 'Well, then I guess the average IQ of the city'll go up a bit.'

Ido and I wave to the trio as they head out into the darkened street towards Koyomi's van. Once they're gone, the stresses of the day, as well as the sleepless night crash in on me. But so too does a sudden urge to talk to Ido about something that's been bothering me.

As Ido walks back towards the kitchen, I turn to him, "Got a minute?"

Stopping in his path, he turns a questioning look towards me, "Certainly, what's on your mind?"

Hesitation drags at me, considering the subject I want to discuss. "Well, it's..." Shaking my head slowly, I fumble for the right words, praying I won't find some way to end the night on a sour note. Or worse. "It's about Alita."

He nods, a knowing look in his eyes, "Ah. You still have some concerns about her, I take it?"

I feel my brow tighten as I strain to find a diplomatic way of putting it, "Eehh, something like that."

Ido walks over to the chair Gerhad was sitting in and settles himself into it. "It's alright," he assures me. "I expected as much, considering the difficulty you still seem to be having around cyborgs. To be honest, I'd been hoping you would be willing to talk about it."

While I'm sure it's meant to be reassuring, this comment instead puts me a little on edge. Does he really have an idea of what I'm about to ask about? Or is he going to be unpleasantly surprised by my question?

Maneuvering my wheelchair, I park near him, but just out of arm's reach. "Look, I-" my tongue fumbles over the words, and a nebulous panic nearly derails my whole train of thought. "I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful for everything you guys have done for me. I am, really. You and Alita allowing me to stay here while you try to fix what ever's wrong is- well, I don't think I can ever repay it. I guess it's just..." My eyebrows come down and together as I struggle, not just to get the words out, but to get the right words out.

Ido's eyebrows raise slightly, one corner of his mouth turning upwards in a faint half-smile, "As I said, it's alright. What ever's bothering you, you can ask me. I mean it, anything at all."

Letting out a short sigh of exasperation at my inability to articulate the thought, I try a different angle. "How long has it been since you found Alita?"

He raises one eyebrow quizzically before answering, "Probably about five months or so. Why?"

Another sigh, this time to steady myself before continuing. "Okay, bear with me here. That area hanging below Zalem, that looks like a wrecked funnel, where all the junk is dumped into the Scrap Heap. That used to be connected to the ground, didn't it?"

"It did, yes." Despite his obvious confusion as to where I'm going with this, he patiently follows along.

"Was it destroyed in the Fall, during the fighting?"

He settles back, crossing one leg over the other, resting an arm on the arm of the chair. "No, actually. That was destroyed some time after the actual Fall, I believe. There was a plague, a bio-weapon that had been released on Earth. It was burning through Earth's population on the ground, so the leaders of Zalem at the time had the connecting accessways destroyed to keep the infection from spreading up to Zalem."

A little stunned by that bit of unexpected information, I momentarily abandon my original question, "Really?" Well, isn't that some shit. That means that at the end, it was no war if Mars and Earth were releasing weapons like that at each other. They were simply trying to wipe each other out. Genocide, on a planetary scale. To say nothing of any colonies that might be out there.

Alita's memory of fighting on the moon comes to mind, 'Or had been out there. Those colonies might very well be long dead. There really may not be much of anything left of humanity.'

Hearing about genocidal interplanetary wars like that in some sci-fi story is one thing. Being here, on the remains of a world in which it happened, is chilling. Stories and images from survivors of genocides flash through my mind. Mass graves, mutilated bodies, a myriad horrors of war inflicted on both soldiers who fought those wars and the regular people who were caught up in them. I experience a momentary detached, sickening sensation.

"Jason," Ido gently prompts, "what is it that's bothering you?"

With some effort, I pull my badly derailed mind back on track. Keeping my eyes directed on the floor past the chair he's sitting in, I say, "I don't know much about retrograde amnesia, but I've been wondering..." It takes a couple tries for me to actually get the next words out as Ido patiently waits.

Feeling as if I'm treading on very thin ice, I take a deep breath and go on regardless, "Is there any chance that the person Alita had been, back in that war, could resurface and reassert control in some way?"

In other words, 'Is there any chance that the elite Martian soldier buried somewhere inside your adopted daughter could awaken one morning instead of Alita, come down to breakfast, and splatter you all over the kitchen because she believes the war is still on and everyone in Iron City needs to die?' Without even really being aware of it, I brace for an angry, violent outburst from Ido. I'm entirely too aware of being helpless, in a wheelchair and sitting across from me is a cyber-surgeon who also happens to be an experienced killer.

Surprisingly, the doctor simply nods and gives me a rather understanding look. "Well now, that's an interesting question." He pauses and looks off into the distance as if thinking, bringing a hand up to rub at his lower lip with his fingers. "It's come to be my understanding over the years, that experience goes a long way in shaping who we are, our personalities. Much of the person Alita used to be is still in there, somewhere. However, I sincerely doubt that the Berserker soldier, whoever she may have been, would be able to reassert herself. At least, not in any way you seem to be worried about. Memory loss of this sort, that's as extensive as it is, has served to reset her in a way. Certainly, some aspects of the woman she once was will surface again, over time. But even if they do, she will still be a whole new person."

Putting his arm down again, he looks directly at me, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you are concerned that she'll suddenly start thinking she's fighting that old war again?"

Feeling a bit guilty for even bringing it up, I shift uncomfortably, "Well, not quite that literally but, yeah the thought had crossed my mind that she could regress in some way. Combined with the kind of power she seems to possess-"

"True, she could do some real damage," Ido says, firmly cutting me off. He looks me directly in the eye, "In the time I've come to know her, she and I have become a real family. I care deeply for her, and I have every reason to believe she feels the same towards me. I trust her implicitly." He carefully stands up and takes a step towards me. I very nearly recoil in alarm as he reaches down and puts a hand on my shoulder, "You can, too."

I let out a long sigh of relief, releasing a pent-up anxiety that had been buzzing inside me. "Yeah," I respond, lifting my glasses up to rub at my weary eyes, "I suppose you're right. Sorry for bothering you with this." I sigh again, feeling like a complete ass.

Removing his hand, he straightens up, "As I said, it's alright. Believe it or not, I understand your concern, especially considering what you've been through. Please, trust me when I say she's not going to harm you or anyone else without very good reason."

I can only nod in response as I fight to suppress a sudden yawn. After it passes I tell him, "Sorry 'bout that."

"No need to apologize," he says with a hint of a smile. "You look like you've had a very long day. Why don't you head up and get some rest, I can clean up down here."

Feeling a little guilty about leaving him to do all the cleanup, I'm hesitant to take his advice, but bone-deep weariness wins out. "Yeah, guess I probably should. Have a good night." I maneuver past him and start down the short hall towards the elevator, then stop and turn back. "I know I've already said it but, thanks again, for everything."

"You're quite welcome," he says with a nod.

I head off upstairs.

The next morning, I awaken to a room brightened by morning light. Half-remembered nightmares drift to mind, but none were bad enough to disrupt my sleep. For most of the day, my mood is a strange mix of cheerful, clouded by a nebulous dread. Sharing the secret that I'd kept hidden for the past year, and having people believe me, has changed things. Though, in what way and to what extent, I can only guess right now. For the moment, I'm finally starting to believe that I may not be in this alone.

After breakfast, as doctor Ido is giving me my still-experimental medication, he and the others remark on my seemingly improved mood. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the day. Going about my assigned tasks proves easier than it has in quite some time, and I'm able to focus on what I'm doing. I've had these 'up' times before, and I imagine that this must be what it's like to feel like a normal person.

Some of the more heavily augmented patients still raise my anxiety levels, but despite getting the shakes now and then, it remains manageable and I hide it from those around me out of long habit. As a result, the others seem to get the impression that I'm doing a bit better than I actually am. I don't bother correcting their impression.

Alita stays most of the day, helping out Ido in the basement. In between patient visits, he sets up experiments with which to study the samples he brought back. She and I even end up talking when neither of us are otherwise occupied, and I find myself feeling more at ease around her. Towards the end of the work day, she heads out to meet with Koyomi.

Over all, it's a good day.

Closing time comes, and I help clean up around the clinic, evening volunteering to take on some of Gerhad's easier-to-handle chores so she can get home a little earlier. Afterwards, I work up the nerve to ask Ido about that rocket hammer of his.

"Ah, yes!" he says, lightly slapping a palm to his forehead. "I got so wrapped up with everything else, I forgot."

With that, he brings out a large black case which he opens to reveal his rocket-powered weapon. Initially in pieces, each of which is nestled in a form-fitted space within the case, he's able to quickly and easily snap together the precision-machined parts.

"And that is basically it," Ido announces, holding it out for me to more clearly see. "And this is one of the fuel cylinders." He holds up a spare fuel canister that's just a bit larger than a twelve-gauge shotgun round.

I nod, "So, just four of those is all you've ever needed?"

He lays the weapon across his lap, "Actually, I've rarely ever needed more than one, and never more than two."

A thought occurs to me, "Outta curiosity, were you an ambush hunter?"

He looks momentarily confused by the term, but seems to quickly catch my meaning, "Most of the time, yes. Laying in ambush was what allowed me to survive the more dangerous targets I went after, considering the speed that some cyborgs possess, to say nothing of their physical power. Their strength usually didn't mean much once their limbs were removed, however." He smiles a bit grimly at that.

A flash of memory comes to me of a leather sleeve-covered metal arm coming up at blinding speed to smash me in the right side of my head, sending me tumbling across the pavement. "Yeah, I can imagine," I say distantly.

Ido nods absently, then asks, "So, any other questions?"

Feeling almost like a kid seeing a new toy, I ask a barrage of questions. I cringe inwardly a bit at my own exuberance, but Ido seems to take it in stride and answers each question in turn. The subject of how he went about designing the weapon comes up and I can't help but comment on it.

"So, you used some kind of 3-D design program to plan this thing out? Like a CAD program?"

Ido seems a bit more pleased at the change in subject, "I'm not familiar with this 'CAD' you refer to but, yes, I used a three-dimensional design tool. It's a system that's helped me build a lot of custom cybernetics, as well as some weapons-"

"Including Alita's Motorball body?" I interrupt, a little more excitedly that I'd meant to. Despite my feelings about Motorball in general, her Motorball body, with it's rich purple color and silver trim, has always struck me as an elegant piece of machinery.

He nods, smiling broadly, "Including that, yes."

I hit the brakes on my excitement a bit for my next question, "If you don't mind my asking, what kind of weapons?"

A brief pause as Ido considers his answer, "Well, aside from the plasma emitters I copied from Alita's Berserker body, mainly just various kinetic types. Spikes, blades, that sort of thing." He shrugs faintly with one shoulder, "I'm not exactly a weapons expert, and those sorts of weapons are typically more than sufficient for our purposes."

I nod thoughtfully as my gaze flickers over the rocket hammer. I figure more ancient-style melee weapons like that are also less resource-intensive and easier to manufacture. Likely pretty important traits in such a poverty-stricken place as this.

Ido interrupts my musings. "Would you care to take a look at the design program I use?"

Surprised at his offer, I barely hesitate in answering, "Uh, yeah! I'd love to see it. Didn't you mention it used a holographic interface?" A real-life holographic interface is certainly something I can't pass up the opportunity to see, having only seen them in movies from my own time.

He frowns a little, "It does, but I'm afraid I can't really show you that. It's part of a larger system that's down in the basement, and there's no wheelchair access." He shrugs and gives an apologetic little smile. "However, I can use a data-pad to give you access to the system, maybe let you play around with it? Considering how little you seem to have to keep yourself occupied during off-hours, it might help with your depression."

Setting aside the twinge of disappointment, I accept, "Sure, that sounds like it could be interesting." I try to sound enthusiastic, but I'm dubious about how entertaining this program will be to mess around with. Being an engineering tool, it seems like it'd be bit dry as far as entertainment value.

It doesn't take Ido long to wirelessly connect a spare data-pad to the system in the basement, as well as set up a partitioned environment for me to play around it. Then he gives me a quick run-down on it's functions. The graphical interface layout bears little resemblance to what I'm used to, but is incredibly intuitive to use, once I learn what each of the major interface elements does. Ido is a little surprised at how quickly I pick up on it.

Glancing up from the screen with a half-smile, I comment, "Ya know, we had computers back in the day. And regardless of how advanced the back-end stuff is, an interface is still an interface."

He quietly snorts out a brief laugh, "True enough."

As Ido further explains, the program can use information on material properties gathered from testing to perform some basic simulations that can measure how well a given design holds up under whatever conditions you want to throw at it. When I realize this allows me to not only build something in the program's virtual space, but also run a build through some tests to see how it might do, my interest is piqued considerably.

Ido makes some final adjustments to the program before fully turning the pad over to me. "There, I've unlocked some of my older files. Just some little projects I never got around to finishing. They're nothing spectacular-"

'Translation: they're not important enough to lock away, so the primitive human shouldn't cause any real trouble with them.'

"-but they might give you some idea of the kinds of things you can do."

Grinning a little at this new toy to play with, I give him a more heartfelt, "Thanks."

Later that night, after dinner and all the other little end-of-day activities, I sit in bed and fiddle around with Ido's 3D design program. At first, I go through old plans for some simplistic-looking cyberlimbs that were probably meant to provide good quality functionality without requiring a lot of expensive parts and materials. The dates on them are years old, long before my arrival. Then I come across an old solid-fuel rocket motor, likely a precursor to Ido's current liquid-fuel rocket for that hammer of his. According to the notes, it's one-use nature meant that it didn't have the reusability that Ido required.

I load the design and run some simulations. Nothing particularly exciting happens. Then, after noting the chemicals used in the fuel, I crank up the primary element of the mixture to levels that the program warns me could be dangerous.

Running the simulations results in quite the fireworks show as the fully-colorized, realistic three-dimensional image plays out the most likely results. I watch the exploding rocket blow the back-end of the virtual hammer to fiery bits.

Running the simulation at slower speeds allows for some really neat effects. 'Ooo, sparkly...' murmurs my tired brain in child-like glee.

Then an idea hits me. 'What if I could design something that Ido could get some real use out of?' In all honesty, I doubt I could really come up with anything, but I figure I could at least try. Alita's earlier comment about learning a new interest comes back to me, and this settles my resolve. I open a new project.

After a bit of thought, I go back to Ido's old solid-fuel rocket motor. Despite my dislike of war itself, one of the things I've always had an interest in was military hardware, particularly main battle tanks. Before going into the Air Force, I had strongly considered joining the Army so I could be part of a tank crew, but my father had talked me out of it. His own time in the Army led him to advise me against it. So I settle on something tank-related that I happen to know a good deal about.

I copy the little solid-fuel motor into the virtual space and begin modifying it. Using the eminently helpful systems within the design program, I alter the fuel mixture to burn faster and hotter, but hopefully not too hot. Next, I hollow out a cone-shaped space in the business end of the motor's solid fuel, the point of the cone directed inward. After carefully shaping a hollow, open-ended cone of fairly thin copper metal, I place it into the cone-shaped cavity so that it sits flush against the solid fuel.

Putting together a rudimentary firing chamber, one that hopefully won't blow apart so easily, I set the modified motor inside it and run the simulation of the fuel-turned-explosive being detonated. The results are, surprisingly, very much like what I was hoping for. The force of the explosion compresses the cone of copper into a narrow molten stream that jets out almost a dozen centimeters. A miniature High Explosive Anti-Tank round.

This one however, remains in the firing chamber when detonated, otherwise it'll probably be counted as a gun-type weapon and I certainly don't want that. Instead, I begin drawing out a plan to try and make a bumper-trigger to set off the HEAT round when the hammer impacts a target which unleashes the stream of molten metal to burn a hole into the target, and hopefully cause some real damage. Initial results are almost shockingly promising, but it'll still need a lot of work before I can show it to Ido and see what he thinks. No reason to show him some half-assed project that has no chance of working in the real world.

My hope is to provide him something that might allow for some extra options to his bounty-hunting arsenal, assuming I can get this thing to work like I want it to. Only one way to find out.