surprised me with his injunction not to pretend happiness or cheerfulness. I’d thought he was going to lecture me about God knew what, but instead he told me I didn’t have to pretend around him, and he would never know how much I appreciated his words.
Because I couldn’t pretend one more smile.
While my body felt stronger than ever, my mind fatigued itself from suppressing flashes of the mad Queen and her cruel eyes. Memories triggered at the sound of my own labored breathing at a difficult stretch of rock, painful twinges if I put weight on a joint wrong, the taste of blood when I bit my lip ….
Assailed with visions of her assaults; it was almost as if I were still there, wrists bound and wounds weeping, my own failed attempts to swallow my cries echoing against the walls of the War Room.
I would be imprisoned in my own mind if it weren’t for the concentration this climb demanded, and I scaled the canyon wall with wooden determination, heedless of pebbles cascading below me or the strange little glowing worms emerging from cracks in the rocks.
“ADVISOR.” VELMA pinged my helmet.
I grunted.
“ADVISOR, depletion of serotonin and dopamine suggests the approach of another depressive episode,” she said. “Please report to the nearest EEP for an epinephrine treatment.”
I barked a laugh.
“CeCe?” Raxthezana spoke from below.
“VELMA was just telling me a joke,” I said, bitterness lacing my words. I remembered too late that he might recognize the sarcasm as the barrier to truth that it was. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It wasn’t a joke, and I just can’t—explain—right now.”
We stayed silent as the canyon’s wall neared, and I clambered over, offering a hand to Raxthezana who took it, surprising me. It also surprised me that I both felt his weight and felt my strength in helping him up.
The robot sat a couple meters from the ledge, its black charging cell facing the setting suns, waiting for us.
Exhaling, I turned to Raxthezana who drew up the rope in a neat coil.
“Sorry,” I said. “VELMA said I should report to the nearest EEP for treatment. I laughed because the nearest one—I mean—we were just there, right? And obviously it’s in no condition to help me. And besides,” I said, my voice helpless and juvenile in my ears. I knocked on my helmet. “I don’t think an EEP or a neural network can help this.” My words ended in a hiccup that turned into a sob.
I slumped on the ground and wept, my armored body shaking under the weight of my pain and stress. Raxthezana approached and sank to the ground beside me. I remembered his earlier words. You honor me. I will not abuse your trust.
Crying, I leaned into him, and while he didn’t put an arm around me, he didn’t pull away either. He let me lean and cry, and I soaked up his quiet acceptance as if it were clean gauze embracing a wound.