Insomnia

42

The crate sealed up and left them in darkness. Esme was never so glad that her mask had a built-in flashlight. A solid beam of light flashed from the lower left corner and illuminated the container. She'd laid down a few blankets on the ridged floor to make it more comfortable. A bag with some food sat on her right.

"What happens if they leave us in here?" Esme asked. "Like we get to the other side but no one opens the crate?"

Devoe sat down and rubbed her metal arm tenderly. "Then I take this thing and make us an exit."

"Fair enough." Esme said. "That's actually pretty, handy to have."

Devoe groaned. "Are you going to be making bad puns for the entire trip?"

"It's a ten hour ride from here to the moon. What else is there to do? Besides, that arm of yours almost killed me. I think I'm entitled to a few jokes."

"I... see, I don't really know how to respond to that."

Esme shrugged. "You don't have to. This whole thing is weird. No escaping that. All we can do at this point is keep moving."

"Yeah. Keep moving. By sticking ourselves in a damn box."

"Shipping ourselves was the best, least noticeable way to get there."

"If I could have thought of any better way..." Devoe grumbled testily.

Esme sighed. Despite what she said, it was hard to even look at the other woman and not feel threatened. How could anyone be that strong?

They sat there for another hour. A slow rumble as the engines ignited and they began takeoff. A brief feeling of weightlessness before the gravity kicked back in. Boredom finally cracked the silence.

"So, if you don't mind me asking," said Esme, "how exactly did you lose your old arm?"

"Straight to that, huh?" Devoe muttered.

"You don't have to tell me."

"No, it's fine. Might as well get to know each other." Devoe took a deep breath before continuing. "I had it replaced. Surgically."

Silence.

"Wait," Esme exclaimed, "that's it?"
"Yeah."

"You just... had your arm taken off."

"Yeah."

"...why?"

"Why not?" Devoe said. "It's not like it was doing me much good anyway. And check this baby out!" The cyborg flexed her metal arm, spinning her hand at the wrist and proudly displaying a sizeable robotic bicep. "Hell yeah."

"So, what?" said Esme, "You gonna get the other one done too?"

"Maybe. It's expensive though."

"And you don't feel weird at all? Without your old arm?"

"It was weird at first, sure. But you get used to it."

"Huh. And that scar? The one on your forehead?"

"What scar?"

Esme frowned for a moment as the other woman seemed genuinely befuddled. A smirk broke out on Devoe's face.

"Very funny," Esme muttered. "I almost believed that you never noticed the giant white line streaking its way around your head."

Devoe shrugged.

"Again, I'm used to it at this point, so it's not that big of a deal." She tapped her skull. "It's from the surgery. They can't just hook up the new arm - other stuff's gotta get fixed underneath the hood too."