Three
“The house is a time machine?” It didn’t seem too crazy, mostly because I had accepted it as a spaceship.
“Yes,” She seemed satisfied that I had grasped it. “ Do you want to go home?”
I was startled. “Oh, well I guess ...” I hadn’t really thought about going back after I realized I had nothing to go back to.
She sighed “key word, ‘want.’ Used in the sentence ‘do you want to go back.’ You do not have to go. the situation is not that I have anyone else to speak with.”
I smiled “Its not like I have anybody else to talk to either.”
“True.” She considered this. “Also, you will need some help with the scaring. They go deeper than the skin... They make you more intelligent as an example.”
“Yeah right.”
“What is 78 times 193?” Benny said.
Of course I don’t know that. Nobody can do that kind of math in their - “Fourteen thousand four hundred seventy-five”
“Yes, that is correct.” She looked smug. “Also, there is trouble with nerve damage, random pain flashes around the scarred areas. Enhanced reflexes, and apathy.”
“So that’s why you’re so...” I waved my hand in front of my face. She ignored me.
“If you want to go home, or somewhere else, I will gladly take you.”
“Go home? Yeah right! let’s see, save the world, go live in foster care.” I weighed the options in my hands.
“Maybe the symptoms are different for you. You seem fairly energetic.” Benny cocked her head, “Or maybe I am the unnatural one.”
“No comment.” I’d seen the way she handled a gun. I wasn’t going to get on the wrong side of her.
“We need to go on a mission soon, we need different clothing, and we are running out of food.” I liked that she said ‘we’ like we were a team. I didn’t like her next comment though, “I will have to teach you how to fire a weapon.”
“I know how to handle a gun! I’ve done it millions of times.” Frankly I was insulted.
She shook her head. “My Hawk would not be invented for several centuries after your time.”
“Oh...” I obviously didn’t know how to handle a gun.
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She was extremely inexperienced regarding my weapon. When I first relinquished my Hawk, she inquired to the location of the trigger. I originally thought it was a miss-placed joke. Triggers were so inefficient. They hadn’t made any guns with triggers since the 3000s. My Hawk aimed and shot by telepathic commands. The idea of it having a trigger was insulting.
After she became used to firing it, she asked how many rounds it shot. When I blinked at her she said ‘you know, how many bullets at a time.’ Bullets! It was astounding! My Hawk fired lazar charges. Then she asked how often it needed to be charged! My ego (and that of my Hawk) was bruised. As if I would ever own a firearm that didn’t have at least two nuclear batteries!
“Alice. The only maintenance my gun ever needs is to wipe the blood off it after a point blank shot.” I said the words slowly so that she could understand.
“O.K. No need to get uptight about it.” She rolled her eyes. “Sheesh”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Sorry, now I know though, I’ll never ask stupid questions about your gun again”
“OK. Now you know how to use it. Time to go shopping.”
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