Apriltober 2022 25 Salsa end
a/n: Roo and Dr. Karen give helpful advice to Rina.
All the spoilers and good things belong to Monolith Soft.
The evening was in full swing at the Repenta. People squeezed up to the bar, grabbing the gentle curve of its edge to lean in and shout their orders. The servers knifed through the crowd to deliver amber pitchers of beer along with tropical-colored margaritas. The karaoke machine shrilled in the back corner of the dance floor while the band was on break. Soldiers and civilians argued and flirted, sometimes both at the same time. Parties in booths would spill into the aisle if the laughter got too wild, then pushed themselves back in start another round of drunken joking.
Rina's group was a dim bubble of quiet, not even broken by the crunching of chips. Rina kept shaking her head, trying to unhear what Dr. Karen had said. "That can't be. We'll all supposed to be redeemed. We can't stay as mims."
"Of course not," said Dr. Karen.
"Why not?" asked Roo at the same time.
"Because ... because ..." Rina stammered.
Dr. Karen turned the chip basket slightly. "It works the same as with the mims, except so much more squishy. Use the scans as a blueprint to clone, well, not exactly clone, more like make a 3-d printed organic body, molecule by molecule. Hopefully they can fix any pesky aneurysm while doing it. Then you give it a good rub down and a cup of coffee and you're good to go."
"But what about our real bodies?! The ones on Earth?"
Roo made shushing noises at Rina. Dr. Karen had the grace to look embarrassed. "We don't talk about bodies." She paused as Roo murmured something almost melodic but otherwise unhelpful. "They were a little short on explanation when they woke me up. Something about the details freaking out the subject."
"I'm freaking a little myself," said Rina.
"I'm afraid we'll just have to trust that things will be fine going forward. So far, so good, right?" She pushed the chip basket towards Rina and gave an encouraging nod.
Rina picked up a chip and bit into it, only to discover she had lost the will to chew. The shards sat in her mouth, prickly and salty. She pushed them around, glad for an excuse not to talk.
Dr. Karen waved a hand in the air. "You really didn't know? I thought you were in and out of the Mim Center all the time."
Rina swallowed, feeling the mouthful scrape its way down her throat. "I drop stuff off, sometimes give a hand as a medic if there's a crisis, but I'm not really connected to them."
"For the best. Trust me," muttered Roo.
"I don't think too highly of them myself," Dr. Karen agreed. "Do you know? I wasn't their first try, which is a little insulting. I mean, dead or not, I am still years ahead of other researchers on the subject." The others ignored Dr. Karen's flash of professional peevishness. "Anyway, this is all my way of saying, I have my own understanding about the worries caused by amnesia. That gap in my not-life left me a little uncertain about my continued life. Skeletons in the closet and so on. You can get past it, but it takes work."
"Thanks for the support, I guess."
"I had real issues," Dr. Karen said firmly. "I won't pretend otherwise. From my experience, I can only suggest you get help."
Roo nodded. "Hope's nice. She listens really well."
Rita turned to the carefree Pathfinder with surprise. His grey eyes were unusually earnest and soft. Something made her shiver. "Really?"
"You don't have to tell her everything if you don't want to, and she's still helpful."
"Yeah," she said slowly, "I keep thinking I'll get around to it after I get a handle on other stuff, but maybe I should ask to talk to a counselor."
Dr. Karen looked from one to the other of her companions and laughed. "Oh, I meant get help as in hire a private investigator, but that works too."
a/n: I could go on but I think I'm done.
Next up: Evidence. Oh no, maybe one more story won't hurt.