Chapter Five
When I am king, dilly dilly, you will be queen
Across the park, a figure moved awkwardly away from the scene she had accidentally come upon. Returning home from a gig, Jerona had been drawn by the beautiful, heartbroken wail of Bob's guitar like a null to an energy spike, but when she had seen Bob's state, and read the devastation in his eyes, his posture and his music she had felt torn. She had wanted to go and comfort him, but knew he was unlikely to accept help from her - a relative stranger.
Jerona shook her head with a sigh. This could not continue, Bob and Dot were two of the most important sprites in Mainframe, what affected them affected everyone eventually.
She knew she could never interfere directly - it was not her place - but perhaps a word or two in the right ears would be enough. At least then she could feel she had done something to ease Bob's agony instead of just sitting on the sidelines.
Nodding decisively, she made up her mind. In the morning, she would go and talk to AndrAIa and Mouse.
As the musician moved away from the park back into the city, she missed the sight of another figure slipping silently through the shadows towards the Guardian
He was lying deeply within the grasp of sleep, its comforting dark warmth wrapped around like a cherished blanket. The heartbreak, exhaustion and pain that had driven him to this state seemed so very far away right now. Somewhere distantly, he could feel the damp grass on his face, and the chill that had settled into his muscles causing them to cramp and ache, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Moving to ease the discomfort would mean leaving the warm veil of oblivion to confront reality again and reality was too cruel to face right now.
"My my, what do we have here?" A sly female voice pierced the veil. Bob shifted, vaguely recognising the voice, but refusing to wake, "The system's faithful Guardian out by himself? All alone where anyone could justtake advantage," A high cackle of amusement rang across the park, Bob twitched at the familiarity in that sound something felt wrong, but he couldn't place what it was, he couldn't think, his processor felt like it was wrapped in foam.
"Don't worry," The voice cooed as he felt himself scooped up into slender but strong arms, "I'll look after you. Rest, now." There was the soft creak of leather and the soft whisper of wind through his hair, then his stomach seemed to fall away as he felt himself being lifted up, the wind rushing past, tugging at his hair, roaring through his ears. But there was no zipboard hum - nothing but warm arms, creaking leather and rushing wind. He struggled to rise up through the dark waters of consciousness, but it was too hard everything felt so far away
"That's right, Bob," The voice soothed as he felt blankets being drawn around him, "time to rest," He could sense a weight settle onto the bed beside him, and through the fog he thought he felt a hand touch his hair, "A pity, I rather liked the long hairah well," A set of slender fingers touched his face gently, "sleep, now."
Too tired to resist any longer, Bob drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
---
Matrix had no idea what time it was. Late, certainly but when traffic came in from the port at all micros, someone needed to be on duty there all cycle. Today just happened to be his turn to work the graveyard shift. Since it was well after system power down, walking was actually faster than taking a zipboard, since his board would be operating on minimum power. So a brisk walk through the system it was, his footsteps echoing through the dark, empty streets as he moved back towards the small apartment he shared with AndrAIa.
From somewhere up ahead, a shadow moved. Danger-honed instincts came alight and Gun almost jumped into his hand and his fingers wrapped around the comfortingly familiar grip.
"Who's there?" He challenged, his artificial eye glowing dimly.
"Only me," A light, female voice replied breezily. The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows and sauntered casually over to him, her pale grey skin looking almost chalk white in the peculiar, shifting glow of the night cycle and her black dress almost seeming to blend into the deep shadows.
"Denary," Matrix acknowledged, his grip on Gun slackening as he lowered the weapon, his eye clicking back to normal, "you're out late,"
"Ah well," The artist smiled, her dark eyes amused and not at all intimidated, "inspiration can strike at any time, you know. Great artists rarely keep normal micros." She swept one arm grandly out to encompass the sleeping city, "Besides, Mainframe looks very pretty from the top of this building."
Matrix looked up at the building, with its slowly rotating Eight-ball on top, "I guess it would," He shrugged.
Denary tilted her head to regard him, "So what brings you out so late? On your rounds?"
Matrix snorted, "Hardly. Bob's the Guardian around here, not me. He gets to do the patrolling. I'm just heading home."
"Ah," Denary replied, red lips curving into that enigmatic smile again, "Very well, I shall leave you to it, then,"
"Wait, Dena," Matrix called, "I'm kinda glad I ran into you. I wanted to ask you something"
"Oh?" She asked, looking interested.
Matrix shifted, an almost embarrassed look crossing his face, "It's gonna be... Little Enzo's birthday again soon, and I I wanted to get him something special. Something I never had."
"A commission?" Denary asked, "It would depend what exactly you wanted - the larger and more detailed it is, the longer it will take - and you do appear to be on a deadline."
Matrix nodded, "I know," He said and proceeded to describe exactly what he wanted. Denary listened carefully, her lips pursed thoughtfully. When he had finished she paused for a second, considering.
"All right, I'll do it."
Matrix smiled shyly, an expression that displayed that he and little Enzo truly were the same person.
"Thanks, Dena."
She gave him another one of those enigmatic smiles as she turned and wandered off back into the city. Matrix watched her until she slipped around the corner, blinking slightly as she way she was silhouetted against the dim lights of powered down Mainframe suddenly reminded him of
He shook his head and resumed his journey home. It was strange how tiredness and the strange light of the night cycle could cause your processor to play tricks on you.