Port Casper

Chapter Six

Locked in concentration, Raj held his hands in front of his chest, facing his palms. The fingers of each hand flicked and tapped each other. His wall-mounted display showed a schematic of a roider explosive called a cracker. He wouldn't attempt the repair until the positional feedback between his left and right hand improved. Several seconds passed, and he stopped to remove his left hand, wiping his face with it.

He grinned as he caught Grace in a stare. She crossed her arms and stalked back toward the kitchen, where bacon was on the fry.

Raj shook his head. Grace was a surprise--a good one, but he wasn't ready for her yet. He had deadlines, and worse. He couldn't ease her into Port Casper life like he'd planned. She was as rough as any cloister ranch-hand, but the city was an entirely new creature. His home, doubly so. Raj scanned the room, trying to see it through Grace's eyes. It was dark with spotlit workstations, cluttered with pieces of technology she wouldn't understand. Except for the kitchen and dining table, it would all appear alien to her.

She would probably think that he had stopped caring about keeping a household long ago. Grace knew him well: his problems and his creativity consumed him. He enjoyed, however, when she called him eccentric.

Maybe he could tidy up.

"What the--! Get away from me!" Grace's voice had the edge of panic.

Raj tumbled out of his chair and bolted for the kitchen. Shit! He hadn't told her about his roommate.

When he got into the room, Grace had already drawn one of her weapons. Her back was to the door, her stance wide. Raj glimpsed, beyond, the source of Grace's concern: a spaniel-like, robotic dog with mimic skin.

"Relax, Grace. That's my PodPooch."

The machine trotted up to Grace and cocked its head.

"Hello," it said. "My name is Tim Trouncer. Make yourself comfortable."

Raj saw Grace shudder and her shoulders slump. He closed his eyes, and through upgraded lids saw the familiar colors: a blood pressure drop and an imminent blackout. Grace exhaled, her body collapsing.

"That was unnecessary," Raj said, crossing to Grace. "Dope or LEMP?"

"LEMP," Tim said, his blue gelatinous tongue hanging out as he panted. "She drew a weapon. Besides, her short-term will be wiped. You can introduce us carefully when she revives."

"If you want to be unobtrusive, you should do more thinking before acting. Dogs who paralyze folk attract attention."

The PodPooch shook and his mimic surface changed to the color of a black lab, an image map displaying faux fur.

"This better?"

"It doesn't matter what you look like. You can't go around scrambling people," Raj said.

He picked Grace up with his metarm hand, the metal elongating. Gentle whirring noises with subsequent clicks and pops erupted behind him, sounds from his spinal implant. He laid her on the sofa.

"Tim, fetch a blanket for her."

"Fetch?"  Tim's face flushed red and took on the appearance of a constipated rabbit.

"C'mon, you know I didn't mean it that way." Raj said. "I'll make it up to you, T. How about a flea dip?"

He fell to his knees and bellowed.

Tim snorted at Raj and padded over to inspect Grace.

"She's dark purple, Raj. She hasn't always been dark purple, has she?"