Three.

Crier views herself/body as a machine

“My whole body is fucked up,” Crier muttered as they strode into Tez’s oval office,

“I need you to take a look and fix me.” She gingerly removed her empty backpack and coat.

“I only fix machines,” He replied nonchalantly, going to his desk and carrying back a miniature version of an Atmos torch. He set it up on top of a cabinet as she gradually stripped.

“They took all my metal,” She told him with a sigh. Tez switched on the torch and aimed it at her.

His eyes immediately widened at the sight. “How the f**k did you get yourself here?”

“You do realise that Trashers grow cave-ferns?” Crier laughed, then took a sharp breath.

“S**t, the Firestarter is wearing off.” Tez noticed that she had her eyes squeezed together. Gooseflesh pimpled her arms, back and legs. Her shell-pink n*****s were erect.

He was used to seeing naked bodies, but he shivered seeing hers. There were far too many purple bruises, open lacerations, and encrusted blood; she was breathing shallowly.

He noticed that the tip of her left ear had been cut off, and that she had human bite marks on her shoulders, inner thighs and hips. Her right thigh had a makeshift bandage tied around it, and some white fluid leaked from between the white triangle of her legs. Semen.

“Your cave is cold,” Her weak voice broke his thoughts. He glanced up and thought he saw tears forming in her eyes, yet never once did she actually mention she was in agonising pain.

He was speechless. He couldn’t even think of a witty comeback.

What the f**k happened to you?

“Fix me, Tez,” She commanded. He shook his head at her, telling her softly, “I don’t know how.”

“I’ll die if I’m not fixed,” Crier stated clearly, leaning against the wall.

“The mechanic in you is speaking,” He said, attempting to make light of the situation, knowing of her raw talent in keeping the energy Cisterns running smoothly in Cluster-Septa.

“I’ll die if I’m not fixed,” She repeated. “Remember that you owe me your life.” Tez winced.

“My strength resides in my brains, Crier,” He told her cautiously.

“Then use it,” She replied, with an arrogant raise of her chin.

“Trouble in paradise,” He groaned, rolling his eyes. He got her coat and hung it over her shoulders.

 

“Alright, let me think.” Crier nodded feebly, allowing Tez to help her to an empty chair.

“I can’t do anything about the cold,” Tez muttered, making sure she was seated properly,

“The nearest hot spring is in Cluster-Novem.” He sat on the wooden desk he had salvaged from the Above, lost in thought as he stared at the long picture hung to face him. It was of very, very tall deep green plants. Massive, gigantic, looking majestic and beautiful with strong grooved roots.

You couldn’t find that even in the Above. The last time he had been up there, the destroyed sky-high buildings were all covered in mutated vines. Definitely not like the ones in the picture.

Trees, the old humans had called those things. Tez had found some reading materials.

He carried on as if he had never stopped, “Obviously, you would need a Helios to get there.”

He paused to regard Crier as she was being too quiet. Usually, she would’ve said something by now. As he looked on, something odd was changing in her. Her eyes looked bleary, like she was about to lose consciousness. Her body swayed slightly. He quickly tapped her shoulder, as if to wake her.

Suddenly she slumped forward, crashing her forehead to his desk. He jumped to his feet.

“Hello? Crier? Crier!” He shook her, but she was completely out. His face reddened.

“You little s**t!” He shouted angrily, “What the f**k do I do with you now?!”

He glared at the back of her head for a while, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. He let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what was going on.

 

He paced his tiny office for a minute, and stopped. He had come to the conclusion that before he found a health officer, he had to check her criminal records first, wiping them clean as necessary.

It would be a nuisance to take her to the hospital in Atmos, especially if people were looking for her.

He walked back to his desk and drew out a little scanner from the drawers, not bothered enough to place his unconscious acquaintance in a more comfortable position. He switched on his computing machine and injected a cable into the scanner, rotating the monitor to face him.

He reached over and grabbed her right wrist, checking for the biochip embedded in every Corer born after the Nuclear Winter. He massaged her flesh until he felt a small square under his fingers. Leaving his forefinger at the spot, he brought out the scanner and beeped it against her wrist.

Immediately, her file popped open on the aged, burring screen.

“Madeleine Dustmeister. Madeleine.” Tez snorted, touching the screen to scroll down her records,

“You’re still meant to be in gaol, how did you get out?”

He made a noise in his throat as he quickly skimmed through the content.

“Look at that. One, two, three… S**t! Fifteen records of imprisonment!” He glanced at her as if she would respond to his comments with her usual dripping tone of sarcasm,

“I almost feel like I should be honoured! Should I be honoured?” He grinned, and read on, even relaxing enough to put his feet up on his desk near her head.

“Interesting… There are no records of your existence twelve years ago, and suddenly you are back online with your first criminal offence!” He caressed his chin, relishing the feel of his whiskers.

“Too sporadic! What are you not telling me, Crier?”  

He was deeply lost in thoughts, until he began feeling like his shoes were becoming moist.

Tez peered across and nearly fell out of his chair when he saw why.

“S**t! Blood!” Not enough time to read!

He hurriedly downloaded all the information in her biochip onto his machine, setting it to switch off automatically as he folded all her clothes and bagged them. He hunted for a napkin around his desk and quickly dropped it on the small pool that was forming around her head. The piece of cloth hungrily lapped it up, but the blood had already begun to stain the wood.

Tez leapt to the door and poked his head out. He waved around wildly til a staff member noticed.

It was Stag, the rejected applicant for an Ologist position in Atmos. Strange how a person of his potential had ended up working in Oblivion like a common, uneducated lowlife. Tez however applauded the resilience of his employee in not succumbing to the expected societal rules of life.

Besides, he was very good in the cage. Tez didn’t know of any other more hypnotic than him.

“What is it?” Stag asked, his voice a low rumble. Tez gestured towards Crier and her blood,

“We have to get one of the cave-hunters to sew her up. They don’t ask too many questions.”

Stag raised his brows. “F**k,” He stated very simply.