SECOND DRAFT: Hard Bank Left

16

"Where are you going? You need to rest. Hey, Graham! Get back here." It wasn't any use, Graham had his mind set on something and it needed to be accomplished right away.

She followed him, what else was she supposed to do? She still wasn't sure about his mental state. He seemed dazed, like he wasn't all there. And yet, she knew his mind was racing. Graham was not the kind of person to take memory loss lightly.

Krys took the mug and saucer to the kitchen, still a mess from the recent visitors. She took the time to tidy up a bit. It would bother her later if she didn't. Satisfied with the state of things, she followed Graham's path.

His desk had been rummaged through. He hadn't bothered putting anything away. Schematics and notebooks lay scattered over the surface of his desk. A faint smile touched Krys's face, for some reason, cleaning up after him wasn't as annoying as cleaning up after anyone else. Maybe it had something to do with him usually being on top of his mess, to where when he left a mess it was because he forgot that there even was one. She put away the notebook in a drawer, neatly piling the schematics on top. She noticed some of the labels: interface system. His tin of data pins was missing. What was he doing?

The next logical place to find him was in his work space below. She descended the ladder, lowering herself as quietly as she could to the floor. Graham was huffing, blustering around the workspace, looking for something he just couldn't seem to find. Krys stayed by the ladder, pressed her face against the cool bar, watched him with intense concern. The wind kicked up behind her. She hadn't been wearing any perfumes or anything, and it wasn't like he knew what she smelled like. If anything it was just something he never noticed. But, for some reason as soon as the breeze kicked up he looked stopped, looked up, and noticed her.

"Krys. Where the hell is Celeste's housing?"

She stepped forward, pretending that she had only been there for the split second before he looked up. "What do you mean where is it?"

"I mean where is it? I can't find it."

"It's right here." Krys stopped where the wall stopped, reached to her left and patted the wooden housing unit. "Where you put it."

"When did I put it there?"

"Around the time she got her graphics upgrade, so eight or nine months ago."

He muttered profanities under his breath, opened the box unplugged Celeste's glass-encased brain from the wall, and removed it from the housing. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he grunted at the box. "You'll understand when you wake up, I promise."

"Graham, what are you doing?"

"Krys, I need you to leave."

"What? Why?"

"I just need you to leave."

"But--"

"Krys, just leave. Go talk to someone else, I need to be alone."

"But you're supposed to be under supervision. I need to be here."

"Well, fine, but you need to not be down here right now."

"Okay. I'll just be in the pilotry if you need me." With that she left, heading back up the ladder.

She found herself in the pilotry, unaware of having walked there. A myriad of conflicting impulses ran through her. She didn't act on any of them. Most of them involved going back to Graham and holding him, reminding him of how much she cared. Conversely, there was the impulse to slap him for not being more appreciative. Neither of those would go over very well. No, sitting was probably the best thing to do at the moment. Whatever Graham was up to, he would tell her later, wouldn't he?