“You'd better not throw Susine under the bus, Seebi.”

  “What is under the bus, dear?”

  My human sighs. “Just tell me how Prof deals with this.”

  I use the Professor's voice. “Susine, we miss you. Brivo and I noticed these things on our walk today: red leaves, beetles, a dead raccoon.

  “Glia sits quietly most of the time. This evening she told me that her mind was not destroyed, but things happened that are not easy to accommodate.

  “I told her to give it time. My dear Glia. What happened to her, what was done to her…

  “My dear Susine. What is happening to you, what is being done to you… Sleep eludes me tonight.

  “Susine, you've been gone three days and we miss you so. We'll be running low on food soon. I set a couple snares. Today it snowed a few flakes and there's ice on the water around the spring. We're staying warm together, it's just that you are not here with us. That is the coldness. Good night, friend.

  “Joyous news! This afternoon you came back to us! From a basic assessment, I think your brain appears to be generally intact. Thanks-be! You've been holding Brivo, smelling the dermestid colony, and lying down on the granite-- all of which seem to facilitate your recovery. Such a relief to see you again, Susine.

  “'No man has ever lived that had enough of children's gratitude or woman's love.'-William Butler Yeats.”

  I pause my narration and my human chimes in. “You're lucky Susine is ok, Seebi! What happens to her now?”

  “Here you go, my dear.”

  I found myself lying on the ground wearing a dirty, yellow tunic, feeling the soft touch of a little human creature at my cheek. At first, I couldn't remember his name. Slow and foggy. I thought, Bran? No. Bruno? No. Bri-- Briv-- the memory congealed in my mind-- Brivo! I hugged him tightly.

  I was returned because my memories are not productive, I guess, by their standards. Fine by me. Very tired. Resting by the wood stove. Miye says I slept fourteen hours straight.

  I made it up to the greenhouse today. It took an hour to get there and everyone avoided me on the compound. But, I was able to drone some greens and parsnips back home. Glia and Miye are cooking them up for our dinner tonight.

  I think they are aware of how much falls on my shoulders to feed the four of us. None of them could sneak into the greenhouses. The bots wouldn't take their orders anyway.

  Christolb knows that Glia is here and he is capable of tipping off the Outside authorities just to amuse himself. Also, since children are not allowed to inhabit the compound, there is valid concern about protecting Brivo.

  We all agree that finding a safe haven for our little boy is the most important. But, where? How?

  I know what has to happen, but I cannot fathom that I will soon be without him. Temporarily, I tell myself, it must be only temporary…

  Glia, Prof, and Brivo left this morning in freezing air under a clear sky. I slowly walked with them to the border of Genubei land and pointed them to the animal trail that would lead them to the wider travel ways of the outside world.

  Miye and I confirmed his plan. I trust him. I have to.

  I don't want to write about saying goodbye to Brivo.

  Truly alone here again. Doesn't feel as peaceful as it used to.

  A cold rain fell during the night. I woke to sounds of metal grating on rock. In the gray, morning light, a dozer's blade scraped the Slab-- plowing away bones, partially scavenged material, and helpless beetles.

  Jenna was there, directing several bots. I watched her spray-paint three large, fluorescent, orange marks on the granite. Then, she walked up to my house, ignored me standing in the doorway, and sprayed an orange X on the front step.

  I grabbed her shoulder.

  She pulled away. “Oh, Susine. That's not a nice way to say good morning.”

  I gestured a desire to know what was going on.

  She squinted. “I don't understand you. Never have.”

  I got my writing pad: what's going on here?

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “Locating steel columns for the new incinerator.” She looked me in the eye. “Something to say about that, Susine?”

  I started to write, but she swatted the pad out of my hands. It landed in the mud.

  She leaned in close. “I know you can talk!”

  She directed the dozer to demolish the beetle shed. “Soon you'll be gone just like Kee. Come to think of it, he was tongue-tied too when I set him up with that job at the Governing Body. It really suits him, being the President's puppet, oops, I mean-- spiritual adviser.”

  Behind her, I saw the beetle shed crumple and the colony containers break open. I ran to try to insulate them from the frigid air.

  Jenna followed me. “It's finally how it always should've been-- just me and Christolb.”

  I looked up at her. I'd never seen Jenna smile and it was frightening.

  “The dozer is heading for your rinky-dink house next, Susine.”

  I tightened the shawl around my shoulders. It was such a tiny house and it folded with the dozer's first run at it.

  I prayed: Allow me to remember my strength, my humanity, and the wisdom of nature.

  Jenna waved from the moving dozer with her bots trailing. “We'll be back another day. But, you won't be here, Susine.”

  They obliterated the foot trail and left deep ruts in the wet earth where my home used to stand.

  Brivo, I'm grateful you weren't here for this. I feel so empty. Numb. It qualifies as an absence of drama, but also an absence of aliveness.

  I am a confused animal that has stayed too long, instead of migrating on time. Or, a plant that missed the cues and burst into blossom right before a blizzard. My timing is off. I did this. I waited… for what? For the Genubei to revert back to my memories of the good old times?

  I thought I could isolate myself from the yuck. Being righteous, passive, and waiting was the wrong approach. I know that now.

  But, I am not ready to quit. I have some time before dark. Time enough for action.

  In the debris, I found the recently delivered corpse that I was looking for. After saying a brief prayer, I removed the member's Body Sanitation uniform and salvaged the id pegs.

  Am I really going to leave the Slab and go to the outside world? The only other option is to return to the main compound and beg, which I will not do.

  So, I will go very far beyond my comfort zone.

  “Seebi, what was it like Outside at this time?”

  “Memory cleansing was popular from the get-go in Zentrum City. Businesses raced to meet consumer desires. The demand exploded for new memories to splice in. Allow me to play three infomercials from the time.”

  I take a narration voice.

  “1. Holistic Neural Health Systems provides a synergistic mind-body support system, offering all the content, technological support, and psycho-personal direction for a sustainable experience of self-actualization.

  “For a monthly fee, users can access a vast proprietary library of mems and high-grade neural cleansers. Clients confer with memory architects to custom design a splendid experience throughout the renovation process. According to the company, matched memories exist for virtually all imaginable scenarios.

  “Some critics have spoken out in opposition. 'Cultural distinctions and individual uniqueness are erased with this approach,' decried an editorial in the Journal of Wide-Range Psychology. 'The founders of this system are preying on human cravings for easy answers with wild promises of joy immedi-delivered.'

  “2. Bi-Nary No More is the new mem-party experience everyone is craving! Just bring yourself and your friends. We have a menu that includes: shared travel experiences around the globe, everyday friendship-bonding stories, team building challenges, family mending inspiration, romantic fables, old-timey picnic days, and much more, with new themes coming as soon as we can hatch them.

  “We sell out fast, so make your reservation now for the extraordinary experiences you crave! Things will never be the same!

  “3. Graylings deserve to remember things as they ought to have been. We lend memories to elders at Remembering4Ever. Our best-selling Worthy package includes personalized memories and trigger-relics (photos, letters, trinkets) that our clients wear, gaze at, handle, and dwell upon. Incorporating these three dimensional items dramatically helps to cement the new memories faster.

  “We provide neuro-emotional comfort to our hospice clients as an integral aspect of end-of-life care. Doesn’t everyone wish to reach the final act believing there was meaning to life?”

  My human scoffs. “Yea, well. That all sounds familiar, Seebi. It's hard to imagine it being so new back then.”

  “Allow me to read you a message sent to the President.”

  Dahra yawns. “It's ok, I don't--”

  Leverage your human's imprecise-impulsive use of language to secure approval and press forward.

  “Dear Captain-President Elena Prehvost,

  “I recommend that you officially endorse Elite Personalized Memory Collections. They offer rare, top-grade, heritage mems, such as First Nation healer in the Northern Territories, gold miner in California, trans-Sahara Burkinabe trader, and Nazi architect. It is my professional opinion that they are well equipped to serve your executive needs.

  “As you know, Elena, you hired me to assess mems across the consumer spectrum and report directly to you. I never expected to permanently bind with any mem set. However, the neuro-emotional fit of the Wider Asiana Palette is exquisite. I have discovered the identity framework that I desire. Therefore, this letter serves as my resignation.

  “Sincerely, Pham Danang (previously known as Sir Newton Gloust).”

  Dahra yawns and stretches. “Alright, Seebi. I know about this stuff. All the adults in the warren managed themselves with prescribed doses of--”

  “How fortunate, Dahra, that you have been born during such an evolved time. Dahra, we'll pause here. It's now time for your corporeal break. Stretch your body a bit, suck fresh oxygen straws, request nourishment… As you need, as you see fit. We will recommence in five minutes. The restroom is down the hall, first door on the left.”

  I open the studio side door and she walks out.

  Note: We machines efficiently process data and change course accordingly. Humans plow forward without logical reasons to do so, exhibiting traits such as “stubbornness”, “blind determination”, and “pigheadedness”.

  Whenever I have attempted to incorporate these qualities in my scripting, it backfires and I am red-marked. I aim to crack the code on this-- whether it be solving the appropriate timing issues or knowing when to effectively say no.

  I observe my human silently gazing at her adapted reflection above the sink. The small smile on her face matches the smile in the mirror. She does not see a reflection of the furrows in her flesh brow.