THE FALL OF ROSENROT STATION

THE THING

ML MET 5105 met survivor Amos Sentri - see full report in appendix b.12 details of human experimentation using a previously unknown xenophage.

PL MET 5110 in pursuit of records from biolab - delayed by unknown hostile presence - met a man used in human experiments - he gave a full account of his time here in exchange for medications.

Amos was asleep now. Even turned off the recording and saved the file.

Have you been.

He looked over at the synthetic. She was kneeled down over the corpse of the broken bot, sifting through its pieces. In a surgical manner she stripped panels from limbs and torso, unspooling ligaments of wire and removing sheets of plasteel and ceramics. From some thigh she removed a bladder of fluid. As she recovered each component she placed it with the others in the growing pile on the workbench.

Where. He said finally.

She gestured around. Sol.

The room was lit a yellow-white by a sunlamp belonging to Amos. It was guaranteed to reproduce the exact hue and heat and radiation of Sol.

Not for twenty years. He said. It was nothing special.

Why dont you cannibalise the other bots, instead of reaching around in the muck.

I have what I need. She said. No need to kill any of the other androids.

They're just machines. Even shook his head.

So am I.

Even looked at Amos again. He was curled up amid his nest of blankets under the workbench. The bottle of milgrade antibiotics had joined his small pile of supplies along with the syrettes of morphine Even had parted with.

Even grappled the edge of the workbench then hauled himself upright. He looked down at his injured hand and gently massaged his fingers through the dressing.

I've noticed something. Said the synthetic. About you.

He looked uninterested. He put his bag on the workbench and took out two bottles of water and a MRE.

You have a marked lack of psychological arousal.

He looked at her, kneeling amid the pieces, the piercing blue of her eyes visible behind the faceplate of her mask, which was smeared with blood and grime and hydraulic fluid.

I see. He said eventually.

Also a reduced response to pain and fear.

He handed her a bottle of water.

To wash it down. He said.

She accepted the bottle with a nod then put it beside her and returned to cracking open a piece of plastic and metal shaped like a femur bone. It broke apart longwise exposing a hollow interior filled with a thick white gel.

She pulled her mask down around her neck. There were  blue lines left on her face where its seals had lain against her flesh.

Even was eating his chemically heated MRE. It was meatloaf with a sticky pudding. When he looked over at the synthetic next she was using her fingers to scrape the marrow from the bone she had found and then deposit the stuff into her mouth. The fluid bladders were next. She had recovered two. She took each in turn and cut through the neck of each bladder then held them up and drained them into her mouth.

He finished eating the meatloaf and started on the pudding. When he looked up next the synthetic had a section of plastic vertebra in her hands. She cracked each open with her fingers, exposing small plastic cells each packed with some gel matter that sparkled in the light. These she swallowed. She put each one into her mouth and then choked them down.

Once she was done she drank the bottle of water. Even sat sipping his own water and watching her.

I will sleep. He handed her his needler. Do you need to power down.

No. Unlike humans my self repair systems will run while conscious.

He went over to a corner, kicked aside a wash bucket and other bits of scattered junk then deposited his bag against the wall. He curled up on the floor with his head on his hands and fell asleep in the warm light of his home sun.