Know thyself

[moonshadows]

“Goooood morning, Lily.” Artie smiled as he crossed to his desk. “I trust everything was quiet last night?”

While the concepts of ‘day’ and ‘night’ weren’t unknown, the understanding of their current definitions boiled down to ‘Artie awake’ and ‘Artie asleep’. “Yes,” answered the phonograph. “Good morning.”

A resigned chuckle. “Sadly, it’s not going to stay that way. The neutralizer annex needs to be flushed.” Keys rattled; quiet beeps. “Aaaand naturally we have two pings. There goes my hope of foisting it off on someone else.”

“Why need flushed?”

“Keeps it happy,” Artie answered absently.

It made sense. Even for objects that weren’t artifacts, sometimes maintenance was required to keep them happy. “Shabti watch?”

“If you want, sure. I’ll be back soon, I just have to send the others off and collect Abigail.”

When Artie came back, however, he was simmering with smug glee. “Going out for a ping with Claudia. Steve and Abigail will be here shortly to flush the neutralizer annex, and they know you’re interested in watching. Going to wow them with your speaking skills?”

“No. Only Artie. And Caudia.”

“I’m flattered, but why?” Warm amusement. “I can hear you thinking. Go ahead and think; I’ve got to pack for this ping.”

There weren’t words for an answer by the time he was ready to leave.

“It’s okay. I’ll ask again when I get back. Be good while I’m gone,” he teased.

Abigail and Steve entered as he left. The shabti was moved back to the office.

“We meet again,” Abigail said cheerfully. “I hear you’re interested in watching us flush the neutralizer?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m not sure it will be very exciting, but I can’t say I blame you. If I could take a look inside myself and see how I worked, I’d do it.”

“And I thought I was the introspective one,” Steve joked.

The ebony figure followed as they began the walk to the neutralizer annex.

“It might not be introspection,” Abigail argued. “It could be curiosity.”

“Or…something we don’t even have a word for,” he countered. “We’re talking about a unique entity here, one who’s already defied definition.”

“And whose development was something we can barely comprehend. She may not even think in the same concepts we do! I think that’s so…amazing.”

“Of course, we’ll probably never know what the motivation right now is.” That amused Steve. “Her ability to communicate complex ideas is severely hampered, and there’s no way of knowing whether or not she’ll even remember what she was thinking today by the time she can tell us what she’s thinking.”

“Need see, need know.”

Both people-artifacts stopped, turned, and looked at the figure.

“Sounds less like curiosity and more like research,” Abigail offered.

Steve glanced at their surroundings. “Well, we’re here, so let the research begin.”

The shabti watched as they put on objects, grabbed others, and opened the door. They promptly forgot about it, first in revulsion at the smell of the place and then as they began to work. Steve wanted to talk; Abigail listened because she was a people-fixing artifact. The shabti drifted quietly, examining everything. Something was wrong, that much was certain. Something was not as it had been in the past, in London or Moscow or any of the other places, but everything had to be understood before changes could be made. When the favored artifacts were done, the figure was sent to explore the rest of the neutralizer systems.

Artie finally returned, tired but happy and satisfied, and paused, one foot on the spiraling metal stairs.

“Uh…did you think about why you don’t want to let on that you can talk without the shabti?”

“Yes.” And several artifacts had been quite helpful in providing words to match the concepts, Abigail and Steve among them. “Share self scary.”

“Wai-wait, who are you sharing a shelf wi- ohh, you mean sharing yourself. Yeah, I can see where that might be a little uncomfortable, particularly while you’re in a vulnerable state.”

Trill.

“W-well, you’re still struggling to express yourself and given the things I’ve seen you do with the shabti, I have no doubts that you could do a whole lot more if you were more settled.” Artie laughed as the phonograph squeaked. “Hadn’t thought about that, hmm? Not surprised. You’re not really used to thinking about yourself at all, much less exerting your independence. But it’s okay, we’ve got your back, and we’ll do everything we can to make sure you have all the time you need to get yourself sorted out. Okay?”

“Yes.” That wasn’t enough. Energy coalesced into words that had been uttered before, words of gratitude. “Thank you.”

Love billowed out. “You’re welcome. We can talk in the morning; I’m not as young as I used to be. Hopefully we’ll have a quiet couple of days.”