>>Initializing...

>>Damage report: structural fracture to left temporal panel. No software instability detected.

>>Reboot initialized.

>>H.A.L.E. 674, register new symbiont: Rayner Martel.

Hale regains awareness not gradually but all at once. He recalls his last fraught memories before the critical failure. He sees that he's still in the same car, only the time on the dash reads 4:35AM instead of 3:52AM, and they're no longer parked in the cul-de-sac of Alder Close. Outside, traffic drifts by in swift rivers of light while the tall spires of the city stand watch beyond. The backlit GPS system shows they're en route to Theo's Cybernetic Repair, several miles north of the capital city, NeoTonto.

Rayner watches him come to from the driver's side, face drawn and pale.

Hale takes in Rayner's mussed hair, his heightened cortisol levels, his elevated heartbeat like a rhythmic punch. It's a strange, intimate relief to have another human's pulse registering in his data streams again. Though the worry that he isn't caring for Melissa still prickles under the surface, it's less pressing than it had been moments before his shut down. The constant flow of information coming from Rayner reassures him. Directs him. Comforts him.

Rayner doesn't look comfortable though.

His voice sounds worn. Frayed at the edges. "Are you okay?"

"I appear to be fully functional," Hale confirms.

Rayner lets out a breath he'd been holding. "I meant the emotional kind of okay. You know, after you turned into a human air raid siren. But I'll take that as a yes."

Hale touches a hand to his temple, where his damage report indicated a fracture. There's a break in the skin and a divot in his skull.

"I'm sorry. I had to force your access panel open to use the hack chip and connect your whole symbiont link thing to me," Rayner says. "None of that emergency shut down stuff was supposed to happen. I had no idea Bionic Capital put that kind of failsafe in place. They hadn't on previous models."

"It's likely an anti-theft measure. The damage is repairable. Owing to your quick reaction time, my memory banks all seem in working order." Hale does a last revision of his error logs just to confirm all's well. "Thank you."

"I'm just glad you're okay."

Hale nods. He isn't allowed access to his own code, and his editing abilities are limited to the acquisition of new skills and tasks, not altering previous functions. He'd been unaware of the failsafe, which is unsettling. What other secret protocols are hidden from him?

Hale feels another spike of anxiety as he recounts the moments before his shut down. A light turning on in Melissa's window.

"Did Melissa...? See what happened to me?"

"I don't think so," Rayner says. He raps the window with his knuckles. "Tinted glass. I already had our destination in the GPS so I just had to order the car to get us the hell out of dodge and, you know, zoom. Still..." He sucks his lips between his teeth with apprehension. "It won't take a genius to put two and two together once they realize you're gone and I'm AWOL."

Hale agrees, though the words and their implication seem very distant and far away. Like he's hearing them from underwater. Threads of despair threaten to creep through the crevasses of his heart and choke him, so he pushes the line of thought into background processing along with all his other unsolvable problems.

Rayner rakes a hand through his hair. "We're good for now, but it was a close thing. I'll need to talk to Theo about that failsafe. Maybe we can do something about it. Need to figure out if there are any other surprises in your code." He lets out a long sigh and slumps back into his seat. "You seem a lot calmer now. I was worried I'd really fucked up there for a second. Never seen you, uh—emote like that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't anticipate that the inability to sense Melissa would lead to—" He pauses, searching for the right wording. "Such a dramatic reaction."

"Is it better now?"

Hale nods, eager to return to a subject of which he has far more experience. "I'm monitoring your vitals. Your adrenals are overtaxed, and your heart rate is elevated. You should sleep. Or I can provide calming stimulus to reduce your stress levels."

"You don't need to do that."
"Herbal tea? I'm sure a layby concession store will have some."

"Hale, that's not necessary."

"Perhaps a massage?"

"No, no, that's really—"

"I could sing to you."

Rayner stops protesting. He pinches a small, absurd smile between his teeth. "What kind of music do you like to sing?"

"I haven't sung before or developed musical preferences yet."

"That so?" Rayner says. "Well, we have a bit of a trip ahead of us. Theo lives a ways up north. We'll see if we can't find some music you jive with on the way."

Hale nods. The mention of their journey makes several areas of his mind flare like city lights at nightfall. "I have a question first. Several, but one primary among them."

Rayner says, "Shoot."

"Have you eaten?"

"Uh...no."

"Then I suggest we get provisions for the trip. My power reserves are low, and you've not slept. You'll need the fuel."

"Okay. Let's do that."

Rayner programs the car to locate the nearest charging station and stop there along the way. Moments later, they pull up to a lot of cars and trucks parked by charging ports. A purple neon sign proclaims COFFEE CANDY SANDWICHES in lieu of a shop name. The car finds a space and slides in to park.

Instead of getting out, Rayner pulls his laptop out from under his seat. He opens it and taps his temple where his BioCyber Implant lies. It connects to his laptop. Then he opens a separate program that spits out a long string of code. He searches through it for a few keywords and makes adjustments as needed. Hale can only glean so much without Network access to fill in the gaps of his locally stored knowledge.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Rerouting some of my implant's protocols so it won't register me paying for anything here or walking in front of a targeted digital ad," he explains. "So the police can't track us. Can't do much about security cams for now, but just keep your head down and don't look at them. We should be fine."

Hale narrows his eyes. "Did Theo tell you how to do that?"

"We should get some food," Rayner says as though he didn't hear.

Closing the laptop, he jabs the car's fingerprint recognition tab to unlock and open the doors. Hale hurries to follow. The chilled November air steals through them, but Hale only 'feels' it by proxy when Rayner's temperature lowers.

"You may wish to invest in some warmer clothes."

"I packed a bag already. It's in the trunk."

"You will also need adequate sleep in order to maintain safe energy levels while driving," Hale says, opening the door of the shop for Rayner.

"I'm sure there's a motel on the way. Anything else?"

There is something, but Hale judges it wouldn't be an appropriate conversation for the public space of the shop. Even if the only other occupant is a gaunt man behind the counter.

They trawl through the aisles looking for food to keep them both functioning for the drive, but there's little of nutritional value. The 'sandwiches' advertised by the sign outside are well beyond the expiration dates. They settle on several boxes of protein bars, a gallon of almond milk, a case of water, three waxy apples, and a jumbo packet of potato chips. Hale offers to carry everything, but Rayner refuses. He takes half up to the till himself, where the clerk doesn't meet their eyes or notice the dent in Hale's forehead.

They return to the car leaden with items Hale hesitates to label 'food,' but it will have to do. Rayner walks round the back of his car and pops the trunk. Inside, a number of empty, plastic plant pots catch Hale's eye. He regards them with a sudden pang of guilt.

"Your plants. Who's going to care for them while you're gone?"

"Oh. No one, I suppose, but they'll be alright."

"The indoor ones will require watering. Fertilization. Re-potting when they become root-bound. How long before we return? I estimate the most water-dependent will die within two weeks."

Rayner unzips the duffel bag and rummages through the clothes within. "I'm not sure if we can return, Hale. Melissa's already reported you missing, and once they've found I've flown the coop, that's it."

"But... " The image of the verdant life in Rayner's home turning brown and wilting haunts him. "Without your care, they'll die."

Rayner pauses in his rummaging to stand up straight and meet Hale's gaze. "Maybe. It's more likely they'll impound my possessions and sell some to compensate Melissa for the 'theft' of you. They may end up in someone else's care. Or maybe a storm will blow in the windows, and they'll get plenty of rain. Turn that concrete cinder block into a jungle. They don't really need me to survive. They might thrive under the ideal attention, just like people, but they're not totally dependent."

Hale judges the last scenario unlikely, since the storm shutters are automated to respond to inclement weather. Rayner takes in his frown and pats Hale's shoulder.

"You worry too much. Making sure you don't end up, ugh, 'recycled' is more important. Here, try this on."

He holds out a faux-leather jacket pulled from the duffel bag. It's high-collared, navy blue, and lit orange around the seams by LED filaments. Standard fashion for city-goers but slightly out of place in Hale's suburban life.

"It never fit me right," Rayner says as he helps Hale into it. "Seems a good fit for you, though. And it'll hide the Bionic Capital logo all over your shirt."

Hale does up the zipper and smooths his hands over the fabric. He isn't used to receiving things, even though the jacket is the third gift Rayner's given him. The plant pot, the steak spices, and this.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "Does it suit me?"

Rayner tilts his head to the side. "Mmm...Not really. But! I think it would if you changed your appearance. Now's your chance to look the way you're meant to. Like you showed me, yeah?"

"Changing my appearance takes time."

"We'll have nothing but time on the road," Rayner says. "C'mon."