NOTES ON SECUNIT

• SMALLER THAN I THOUGHT AT FIRST
• INJURED? MOVEMENT SEEMS COMPROMISED IN SOME WAY

“Where’s Ratthi?”

Gurathin didn’t look up from whatever he was looking at in the feed. “Did you ping him?”

Arada rolled her eyes. “Yes, I pinged him, he didn’t answer, that’s why I asked you where he is. He told Pin-Lee he’d be here an hour ago to go over his part of the research proposal.”

Gurathin sighed, flicked a finger. “He engaged with the Southwest Park trailhead kiosk 22 minutes ago. Probably still out there.”

“Thanks, Gura. Sorry to bother you.”

Gurathin shrugged, still focused on the feed.

Eventually, Ratthi came through the door as if it had just been a routine day.

“Where were you? We were worried!” Arada held out her arms for a hug.

Ratthi hugged her, but only briefly and half-heartedly. “Oh! Really? I was just... taking some green time. In the park. I have a lot to process. So I was processing. You know.”

“Oh, is that why you went ‘urgent only’?”

“Yeah. So I could have space. To... to process.”

“OK, well, Pin-Lee’s been waiting for you to go over the proposal—”

“Shit. Sorry, I got—I’ve had a lot on my mind. I’m coming.”

• IS THERE REALLY ANYTHING TO THE "PERIMETER"? IT COULD JUST GO WHEREVER IT WANTS. IT COULD HAVE DONE THAT PRETTY MUCH ANYTIME.

“Hey Ratthi, aren’t you hungry? It’s Bharadwaj’s turn to cook, and it smells amazing.”

“What? Oh. Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Well, okay. Come eat, dinner’s ready and we were waiting for you.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“You’re fine. Come on, you’ve got that look you get when you forget to eat.”

• WHAT DOES IT EAT?
• IS IT GETTING ENOUGH TO EAT?

Arada peeked hesitantly into the office. “Hi, Dr. Mensah. Do you have a minute?”

“Of course! Come in, I’ve still got half an hour or so before my next meeting. What’s up?”

“I’m worried about Ratthi.”

Mensa leaned forward. “Oh?”

“He’s not... he doesn’t seem... he’s not himself, lately.”

“Since we got back?”

“No, it’s more recent than that. Just in the past couple of weeks he’s been... I don’t want to say avoiding people, but he’s much less social. He keeps turning down invitations, and that’s not like him.”

“It isn’t his usual style, no. But Arada, you know he’s been through a traumatic time. We all have. Maybe he just needs some space.”

“That’s what he said. But he was doing fine! He was back at work and everything, and now he just seems... really, really in his head about something. I thought about getting Gura to, you know, look around a little—”

Menah sat up straight. “No! Absolutely not!”

Arada flinched a little. “I didn’t. I mean, I—”

Mensa took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, that was unnecessarily abrupt. But I very strongly caution you not to do anything of the kind. You know how Gurathin feels about the Corporation Rim, and about that whole system of invasive spying and prying. Don’t even suggest that he be a party to anything like that. He might never forgive you.”

“All right. I see your point. But Ratthi—”

“Give Ratthi time. It’s easy to forget, because he’s so brilliant in his own sphere, but he’s really very young.”

• IT REALLY, REALLY DOESN’T LIKE EYE CONTACT.

“Ratthi, is there anything I can do for you?”

Ratthi jumped slightly and quickly shut down whatever he’d been looking at on his display.

“Oh hi Gura. Nope! I’m fine. Just.. just doing some research.”

“I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but we can talk about this. Not necessarily you and me. I mean, I’m happy to talk if it will help, but I know the others would be too, any or all of us.”

“No, thanks. I mean, thanks, thank you for the offer, it’s particularly appreciated coming from you, but not really feeling the need right now. Thanks for dropping by.”

• I FUCKED UP. I FUCKED UP AND IT LEFT AND NOW I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT IS.

“He what?”

“He took a week off from work, with an option on another week, and he packed a bag, and he just left!”

“Where did he go? Did anybody check outgoing ships?”

“I did,” said Gurathin. “He hasn’t bought passage anywhere, not even to the station. He’s still on-planet.”

“Can you find him?”

Gurathin stood up and suddenly had the attention of everyone in the room.

“I’m only going to say this once,” he said, and the effort it took to keep his voice soft and calm was evident. “If you believe Ratthi to be a danger to himself or others, you should inform planetary security or the health authority, or both. Not. Me. I do not do surveillance, I do not do espionage, and I do not violate others’ privacy unless they are immediately and directly threatening me.”

Everyone’s eyes got very wide, and for a second Gurathin thought he’d overdone it, that he’d disappointed or frightened them, and then he realized they were all looking past him, not at him.

“Who are we not surveilling?” asked a voice behind him. Gurathin spun around.

• IT CAME BACK! IT CAME BACK! I FOUND IT!

While everyone was still exclaiming over SecUnit’s return, the door comm pinged with a voice message from Ratthi. He sounded very much like himself, his old self: Jubilant, almost incoherent with excitement and pleasure.

“Guys! Hey guys, can somebody open the door, my hands are full, I have great news!”

Mensah opened the door and Ratthi stopped dead.

“SecUnit?” he said disbelievingly. He had a string bag dangling from one elbow, and his arms were filled with a large case, perforated with air holes, and labeled “SecUnit” with a smiling-face icon and several hearts.

SecUnit looked nonplussed, but then it usually did.

“Oh,” Ratthi said, and he seemed extremely flustered. “Um, this is, um, really it’s a total coincidence, nothing to do with you—”

A hissing sound like escaping gas came from the case, and immediately it was surrounded by several tiny drones, which had apparently come along with SecUnit. They jockeyed for position at the ventilation holes.

“Ratthi, I hesitate to ask, but what the fuck is in that box?” said Gurathin.

“It’s, um, it’s a cat. A feral. It, um, I’ve been hanging out with it at the park and I finally got it used to me and got it to the wildlife and commensals clinic—clean bill of health, but it’s not very happy with me right now...”

“You named it SecUnit.” The construct’s voice was even more expressionless than usual, but it didn’t look pleased.

“Oh, um, I, I, um. Yeah. It... it was intended as sort of a tribute?”

“A tribute.”

“Yeah, it’s, um, it’s very secretive and self-reliant and it hates eye contact and...”

“Ratthi,” says Mensah kindly, “Stop talking.”

“Yeah, um. So, um, welcome back? SecUnit? Are you planning to, you know, stay?”

“I’m not entirely sure.”

• UNBELIEVABLE. IT WALKED RIGHT IN AND STOLE MY FUCKING CAT.

The two SecUnits bonded over their apparent mutual indifference (concealing actual intense interest), a preference for parallel-play styles of interaction, and the construct’s secret weapon (body temperature adjustable to higher than normal human levels).

And, of course, several episodes per day of The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon.