The Many Regrets of a Cyborg Werewolf

Country Roads - XX

Piling everyone into the 'mobile lab' was never easy. The recently recoloured and repaired vanette was as cramped as ever with only two real seats, and Mercer's injury meant he could neither drive nor suffer being confined in the back. That left Erin behind the wheel while Mahi and Luke were cramped behind them, along with all their supplies and equipment. The drive wouldn't be too long, around six hours, but their leaving late in the day meant they would either arrive at Erin's parents' house at night or, more practically, have to find a place to rest. Mercer advocated for the latter, though Luke had been vocal about his displeasure with 'wasting time.' Erin had come to understand that any time they left the city it meant no one was there to defend it from fakes, despite those attacks becoming less frequent. This was perhaps a contributing factor to his sour mood, though Mahi at least had made attempts to pass the time.

"Alright," Erin continued their game, "does he have black hair?"

"Yes," Mahi said, only to ponder for a moment, "well, yeah, black or really dark brown."

"Is he an athlete?" Mercer asked.

"No," the young mer said. "At least I don't think so."

"Is he a movie star?" Erin asked next.

"Yes!" Mahi chirped.

"Was he in anything this year?" She asked again.

"I think so," he seemed uncertain.

"I see," Erin nodded. She mulled over what her next question would be, but before she could answer, Luke suddenly spoke up.

"Is it Stallone?" He asked with exasperation.

"Right on, dude!" Mahi beamed, "how'd you know?"

"Because first it was Van Damme," Luke groaned, "then it was fucking Schwarzenegger."

"Why don't you pick one, then?" Erin snipped.

"I don't know any famous people," Luke grunted.

"Nonsense, my dude," Mahi gave him a pat on the shoulder, "I'm sure you can think of someone if you try."

"Let me rephrase," Luke glowered as he shoved Mahi's hand away. "I don't care about any famous people."

"Who do we consider famous, though?" Mercer asked, "are historical figures and celebrities held to the same esteem? Would Jackie Gleeson be considered more famous than Robert Oppenheimer because his name has entered more households?"

"That is pretty weird." Erin began, "like, more kids in school now probably know who the latest celebrity actor is than, I don't know, whoever invented computers."

"Are you referring to Charles Babbage?" Mercer asked, "or Alan Turing?" Erin's eyes shifted as she remained silent, slightly embarrassed that she herself didn't know the answer.

"Why would anyone care?" Luke huffed from his cramped corner behind the passenger seat.

"Those who neglect history are doomed to repeat it," Mercer replied.

"Doesn't stop you," Luke shrugged, "humans have been making the same mistakes as long as I've been alive." Luke reclined, uncomfortably, against the wall of equipment behind him. "It's your nature."

"I don't think that's fair," Mercer glanced back. "Humans have changed considerably. Our technology, our society, etcetera. We've evolved plenty."

"I didn't say you didn't," Luke said. "You've evolved, but your nature is the same. Your methods and your means are different, but you're still after the same thing, so you're going to make the same mistakes."