Innu-Akku

Theotroph

How Buran arrived at the lair, he couldn't remember. All the way, his thoughts jumped around like fleas, biting painfully and mockingly repeating: "Coward."
The stench of filth permeating the room did not sober the shocked familiar. He no longer cared. All he wanted was to put an end to it all, disconnect from his body, and fall asleep. As the saying goes, "Morning is wiser that evening."
Only the understanding, somewhere in the back of his mind, that without cure the girls would die, and the communal healers with their herbs and roots were not up to the task of such a severe illness, prevented him from plunging completely into the abyss of despair.
While the instruments hummed, preparing the medicine, the dog spoke to Matvey. Esma didn't know exactly what about.
Except that, just as by the lake with the disgruntled grumbling: "I used to be a white caretaker and now I become gray traitor. And don't say that's not true..." she guessed that the fellow was trying to comfort.
The memory kept returning to what had happened in the server room.
There, with the departure of the matron, Buran came out of hiding and, approaching Matvey's flask, once again took out the flower from his pouch.
The sphere immediately pulsated and, with a "fzzhoo" sound, cracked from the inside, fading out. Next, he had to go to one of the cabinets of life-giving and adjust the supply of nutrients to the remaining two flasks. The familiar did not know to which of his comrades the second flask belonged, but in the current situation, it didn't matter! None of them deserved such a inglorious and bitter end!
After covering his tracks, the familiar touched Sonya's flask and, pressing his forehead against it, closed his eyes."
Tears were not part of the old model. All that remained was to bid a silent farewell, shaking with sobs of bitterness. Inside, there boiled up both grief and self-hatred. But Esma, standing nearby with her mouth covered by her hand, mournfully wept. Buran's mind readily responded to the mourning. The rescuer even felt as if she had already sunk into her own memories. Just as in the chamber, images stretched out, transforming everything around. This time it was the towering hospital with its spacious dark corridors, equipment cabinets, the smell of medicine, and the muffled echo of footsteps on the steel grid floor.
- They aren't even planning to give them these outdated 'Burans'! Can you imagine? I knew of course that earthlings don't scatter 'Magellans' left and right like Martians, but 'Burans'?!, - raged the comrade, when it turned out that the Earth plant had disavowed the working familiars and was preparing to write them off. - Just fifty heads, almost exhausted their resource! Apparently, it's easier for them to send new ones!
Esma herself was not thrilled with such a circular, spoiling the morning. But, unlike her comrade, she well understood that she had no way to help. No matter how liberty-loving Mars might be, Esma herself didn't have much freedom.
- But you are the ruler of one of the prefectures!," the Titan continued to insist, desperately seeking a loophole.- They will... kill them! Shut down the flasks and...
- Firstly, I am only one of the candidates for governance and not even the first in line according to the rankings. Secondly, I am a medic. Not a diplomat or politician. I have no authority—like Lika would say? 'Kiss my ass.' Well, you get it. We don't have such an expression, so I might be mistaken, - Esma remarked discontentedly, walking past rows of flasks connected to contactless drips with medicines, synthetic cerebrospinal fluid, and nootropics. - Not to mention that our monarchs are nothing more than media personalities, and everything is ruled by the council of residents.
- But you saw for yourself, they have protocols that are a hundred years old!- her partner interjected. It was starting to feel really sickening: The Enclave's frugality could be felt in every detail. Like any obedient periphery, Titan almost silently accepted all the handouts - from outdated equipment to unattainable productivity demands where it simply wasn't feasible.
No wonder the factory imploded, unable to meet the growing appetite of the Earth-capital. "What's there to process, they say? Well, here's the result!"
Grateful that, the drips were working flawlessly, transmitting molecule by molecule to each worker.
- Imagine, what they must be going through, - her partner persisted, fixating on Martian society with its care for citizens.
- Exactly. And they are citizens of Titan,- the Martian woman motioned with her hand. - Or do you admit that following the Earthlings' commands, you're ready to sacrifice so many lives?
- Assets,- Esma's comrade grumbled sadly. - To the factory, they are property.
- Even better! Just like with signals. There are laws and neither you nor I can circumvent them.
Enraged with the refusal of aid, the Titan loudly cursed. The translator promptly presented the meaning of the argument, mistakenly attributed by Esma to herself.
After a brief quarrel, transitioning to personal attacks, Esma gave in, agreeing to help and transport the rescued to Mars.
Fortunately, the prefectures valued every life, readily supplying new documents with the rescued workers' bodies upon request.
Naturally, such wilfulness did not sit well with Earth, which convened a tribunal. No wonder, such a stain on their reputation, as Mars had no intention of concealing anything - the citizens of the Enclave knew all the details of the Earth curators' malice through Martian salt. Including Esma herself.
Bright headlines and comments underneath, aggressive from Martians and slightly more restrained from the Titans, came to mind.
What choice did the Earth have in this trap? Like any predator: either bite off the paw, or wait for the "merciful" hunter, who will finish out of pity. They chose the lesser of two evils.
The circular about writing off the familiar-employees was instantly forgotten, as if it never existed, and the doctors sought easy fame.
During the hearing, Earth's representatives portrayed themselves as victims, having lost both the factory and "valuable production units." Esma only rolled her eyes at all the accusations, silently listening and lazily nodding off-target. She saw no point in arguing with lies - there was no point. In this farce, Earth wanted not just answers to their questions. They wanted the "right" answers. Essentially - agreement with the illegality of the rescuers' actions and the violation of confidentiality protocols in favour of advancing in the line to the throne.
Mars, of course, stood up for his daughter and her partner, but the relations between the planets had reached a boiling point. Tourism dwindled, and trade was restricted. Like centuries ago, the planets were separated by ephemeral curtains. But even in this game, it was the family-employees who ended up being the most affected, as the confrontation between the powers had almost completely cut off potential escape routes from Earth.
After the incident with Esma, there were many rumors circulating, damaging her career and reputation. Who needs someone who secretly challenges orders and documents they disagree with? Especially someone whose actions jeopardize millions of lives. But it was precisely this episode that determined the choice of the Martian as the savior for the scandalous expedition to Elem. The stakes were clear - Mars wanted rehabilitation for their dynasty, while Earth wanted a convenient scapegoat in case of failure. And now, Esma has once again returned to where her journey into the alien mind began - to the deceased colonists. Now, with the realization that they are completely alone and no one can help them.
And who came up with the idea that the bootlegs, since they have mechanical bodies, don't mourn the dead? From these painful thoughts, silence and the heavy breathing of a child emerged. Finally, the remedy was ready. Buran even managed to soothe the younger girl, who had been struggling to breathe due to fever. After some thought, the familiar diluted the remnants of the thick, viscous pinkish broth and gave it to the older one. When the condition of the city girls improved and the fever subsided, Buran sighed and took the canpic, carrying it to the lake. Releasing the flower, which swam to the bottom, fluttering its petals like a fish with its tail, the dog reflected on what had happened. Sparkles once again danced on the water, but the iridescent film was gone. The flowers on the bottom swayed, their buds shimmering with a pearly glow and chirping.
Thoughts continued to gnaw at him, creating images of the pug at first, and then of the girl screaming and desperately scratching an invisible wall. Slowly subsiding, Sonya gasped, then wheezed, and finally fell silent. After some time and several painful sighs, Buran returned to himself. "You're right, Tanya, we need to sleep on this," - a muffled and echoing whisper was heard. - "Settlement, settlement on chicken legs, turn your back to me, face the suns forward."
And the charge was coming to an end, as "Esma recalled." After so many centuries, the batteries slowly became unusable. Not even disconnecting from the body or stealing from found artifacts helped. It was aggravating that the majority of the disabled bootlegs turned out to be useless. Only now did the familiar realize that the tablet, given as a toy, was still functioning, repeating the recording.
"Elem-19. Planet of the Earth group. Revolves around the red dwarf Wolf-16-tau sub-type M0 and the brown Wolf GH815 of the "Black Dogs" constellation. Planet type - silicate. Orbit type - parabolic. Distance to Earth - seven light years. Radiation background - unknown. Tidal capture - absent..." The monotonous voice announcing this catalog left it unclear whether the older sister was worn out or fatigue had taken its toll, but the girl slept next to the younger one, holding her closely.
Covering both girls with a cloth from who knows where, Buran approached the miniature generator. Another trophy. Not one taken from the mountain of garbage, but rather brought from above, at the cost of its monotonous nature.
Connecting and leaning against the wall, the familiar settled in more comfortably, crossing his arms. Joining in and hugging her knees to her chest, Esma closed her eyes wistfully. She also needed time to come to terms with what she had seen.