Purple Flash

He was easy to spot. His first and last mistake was his shoes. A patch of moonlight hit that flash of bright purple, and before I even knew it, I had Baba’s gun drawn. His shoes were purple. Just like Mina’s.

Purple kid was back the next night. I don’t know why I went back. It’s unwise to use the same streets, the same times, easier to ambush that way. He was still wearing the shoes and had his hair still fluffy and pretty. How silly. In all of this, with everything gone, he insists on those gaudy material things. Just like-

He was back the next night too. Same shoes. He’s going to get himself killed. He looks tired too. Like he’s just woken up, meaning our rest cycles have just barely coincided. His shoes seem dirtier. He looks… younger. He’s not as quick now, and he’s easier to observe. …Fuck, how young is he.

He’s late today. I’m already 40 past my recharging allotment, and he’s not here. The district he’s in was blocked off when the orbital rings fell, that main road would be his most efficient route. Not a good position, no real resources. It was a residential zone for youngling families, across the bay from the one me and B-

I can go 18 more hours without my recharge cycle before power selectivization begins. It’s been 12 and I haven’t seen anything. I also haven’t left my point to solar charge, and I don't have many cells left. I can’t leave. I... I’m going to look around. 

This is bad. There’s some sort of mollusk thing here. Trails of slime bathe the upper and lower constructs, vast rivers of material that go up the sides of skyhouses. Droplets fall, creating constant rhythms from masses the size of escape pods, obliterating whole towers. It’s risky to be here. My attention is divided between the falling masses and my surroundings. The masses make a pop before they fall, but I can’t be unaware of the ground. I still haven’t met the source. 

It’s been 12 hours. I’ve sectioned off the neighborhood and have 35% of it scouted. I won’t be able to scout this whole area. What if I’ve missed him. What if he’s not here. What if he’s dead lik- 

NO. 

I burn the rest of my power cells and configure my eyesight accuracy. Grayscale bleeds across my vision except one color. Purple. Mina’s purple. 

I see him. I have 40 minutes left. He’s stranded by the rivers on the terrace of a house tower. The vertical is burnt out, he must have an inside route. I don’t have time to find it. He doesn’t look conscious, but I pray it’s just sleep. If I set up a cable rig, I should be able to shimmy down to him. I just need to configure my feet a bit more- 

I’m on my way down when I see the creature. I just hang there for a moment as the wind sways me.      No.

Not not the wind... huh. Sparkling spiraling gas vents burst from the creature, expelling fresh briny air, only to be reabsorbed into the whirling mass. Some sort of biosynth? A biomimic like me? An anpollute gone rogue? Who knows what escaped from the ring labs, but I praise Hephaestus that it’s on the other side of the district. I continue down. 

9 minutes. I’m going too fast now; I’m risking noncritical damage I don’t have the power to repair. Almost there. 

My left talocrural joint shattered on impact, but I’m making good time. I see him. 

-POP-

NO

I don’t even have to look. I sprint. I must present deranged, charging at him with a frenzied limp, my long filament trailing behind me. 

-My left tibiofemoral joint gives out— I need more power to maintain motion– there’s one thing left- 

Consciousness collapse is a phenomenon in androidal life where through the purging of selective memory and cognitive expansions an android can purge its sense of self for a boost of power. Considered pure martyrdom, the mimics systems will continue preprogrammed action at an accelerated rate, I can feel myself fading, I’m sorry Mina, I’m sorry Baba I’m sorry I’m sorry -

I scoop him up, he’s limp. What if he’s cold. What if he’s cold like M01101001 01101110 01100001 was, How B ba was. I was o late. I shouldv stayed home that day, I should’ve- IT WAS MY JOB T01101111 00100000 01101011 01100101 01100101 01110000 00100000 01110100 01101000 01000101 01001101 00100000 01010011 01000001 01000110 01000101 

powerorrrr01110010 

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I’m awake. My vision is clear… I’m charged, I'm me… THE KID- I jerk up. 

A power cable is neatly braided into my arm, the circuits aligned perfectly. One trails up to the port under my mandible. I gape for a second and look around. A flash of purple. The toe of a shoe peeking out from behind a sofa. I ask his name. I hear a soft “Andri.” He sniffles as I crouch down next to him.

He looks at me, and there’s not much of Mina in him. He looks at me and says “my mom had hair like you.” 

“It’s filament” I say quietly. “I know,” he says, and then tears fall. He hugs me, and I hold him. 

We ascend up the line, and sway as the winds hit us. Andri laughs excitedly, kicking his feet from his harness on my back. He tells me I was lucky he’s so smart with mimic-tech. That my power drop overrode the memory wipe. He tells me that I would look pretty with purple hair. I acquiesce for the rest of the ascent, and he gently touches my purple strands. He was very mature about accepting we would have to leave his mother's house but broaching the topic of changing footwear caused tears to rise. …I am weak. Andri’s purple does make me feel better though. Perhaps I will take him to the garden district tomorrow. It’s safer there, and the Gomphrelo still herd. He will have to learn to survive in the other districts though.

He squeals as a particularly strong gust rushes by.

 I laugh. 

It’s been a while.