She gets to her feet, finally. Pushes herself up. It's harder than it should be, the despair is still settled deep in her bones, but staying down won't help. Not moving won't help.
"Saving the Green. Giving us what we need to do it. This is something with a purpose."
Not like Svelte. She's sure the developers there would claim there was a purpose, she's sure they believed there was; they never did work out what the idea behind the simulation was, her and Coda. They had their theories, but how could they know for sure?
The memories flash to a darkened building, in what looks like an IKEA-like furniture store. No lights are on. CT is on the floor, ankle bruising and throat scratched, and that dark-skinned man is leaning against a display nearby with his face bleeding. There's a tiny, tiny child, no more than a foot and a half tall, standing at her knee. A person not just dressed in all white, but with totally white-toned skin and hair, hair that looks at the ends like fiber optic cables, runs around the corner to find them all. CT flashes with both panic and relief.
She buries those feelings now, in the present, and curses that the flash has happened at all. She needs to move, get far enough away from the creatures that Price won't keep seeing these things.
no subject
"The whispers... said something about the Green."
She gets to her feet, finally. Pushes herself up. It's harder than it should be, the despair is still settled deep in her bones, but staying down won't help. Not moving won't help.
"Saving the Green. Giving us what we need to do it. This is something with a purpose."
Not like Svelte. She's sure the developers there would claim there was a purpose, she's sure they believed there was; they never did work out what the idea behind the simulation was, her and Coda. They had their theories, but how could they know for sure?
The memories flash to a darkened building, in what looks like an IKEA-like furniture store. No lights are on. CT is on the floor, ankle bruising and throat scratched, and that dark-skinned man is leaning against a display nearby with his face bleeding. There's a tiny, tiny child, no more than a foot and a half tall, standing at her knee. A person not just dressed in all white, but with totally white-toned skin and hair, hair that looks at the ends like fiber optic cables, runs around the corner to find them all. CT flashes with both panic and relief.
She buries those feelings now, in the present, and curses that the flash has happened at all. She needs to move, get far enough away from the creatures that Price won't keep seeing these things.