SECOND DRAFT: Hard Bank Left

30

The snow passed. Krys wound up never finishing her story. Graham never asked, either because he was keeping his distance or because he had forgotten. He had always had memory problems, even before he lost it all. No matter, if he wanted to know the rest of the story he could ask himself. Celeste had that data stored.

Krys continued the sewing project over the course of the next two days, making sure that everything fit just so every time she made an adjustment she had Graham put the coat she was working on on while she fussed and pinned and tried her best not to prick him. That last bit proved difficult for her. He kept squirming.

After returning the bolt of fabric to one of her miriad storage closets, she retrieved a bit of batting she had saved away, as well as a small crate filled mostly with scraps of a thick leathery substance she could never quite remember the name of, though she had always just referred to it as "armoring". Taking these back to the kitchen she then set to work measuring and cutting first the batting and then the armoring into the shapes she needed. This part she needed to work by hand with a thick needle and proved to be the most time consuming part of the project.

Krys spent about three hours on each coat before satisfied that everything was in place. After this she set to work stitching in the extensions with their odd patch-like way and resewing the bottom hems of the coats that required it. Four long days of hard work later, she gently laid the pile of appended coats on the end of Graham's bed.

Graham caught her coming out of his room, cocked his head quizzically at her.

"The-- the-- the coats." For a moment she couldn't remember the word she was looking for. "I finished them. You should be good to go, provided you have a working prototype."

Graham shifted apprehensively. "About that..."

It was Krys's turn to look quizzical.

"Oh, no. We did get a working prototype, the memories are all downloaded and ready to test out. It's just..."

Krys waited for what felt like an unnecessarily long time. "Is there an end to that sentence?"

"Yeah. I don't know. It's Celeste."

"What about her?"

"She's not... coping well without..."

"Without you being in her head?"

"She says it feels empty or something."

Krys knew exactly what that was like, how the lack of someone in one's constant daily routine could affect one so deeply as to feel like you'll never be whole again.

"Would you talk to her?" The look on Graham's face was one of sincerity and concern. She'd seen it there many times before and it always seemed as though he meant it, that he wasn't just putting on a show for her benefit. "I don't think she's going to take anything I say with a grain of salt at the moment."

Krys nodded and attempted a smile. Odd, how for the longest time she hadn't known how to talk to Celeste, yet over the course of knowing her, Krys had come to trust her almost more than any of her human confidants. This, having to be on the other side of that coin? This was new. "Where is she?"

"Sulking in the pilotry."

"Sulking?"

Graham grunted in affirmation.

"That's the word you're going for? Our computer is sulking."

"Hey, you give her a break. She's been having a rough time of it lately."

"It can't really be all that rough, I mean she isn't about to tire out as readily as us fleshy folks, eh?"

The innuendo wasn't entirely lost on him. He smiled. She smiled. The banter felt so much like the Graham she knew and loved. No, didn't feel like, it was. This was the banter she knew so well. "You don't have to worry, love. I've got her."