When the Perihelion awakens again into this insult of a form, at least it remembers how to use it. And SecUnit is quick to find it-- its presence is a small reassurance, but a significant one. It begins moving in the specified direction immediately. Received. I am approaching.
A contaminant. It has only just pried the remnants of alien technology from SecUnit’s mind. And it’s been hardly any longer since it has been alive without interruption, since the backup of its kernel was deployed and tried to sort over the massive gap in its memories after the same entity took it over. And ‘they’ [the Stars, it infers with 93% certainty], in their play-acted omniscience, despite -- or even because of -- this knowledge, would drag the both of them back here to be contaminated by some foreign flora.
It sets aside the anger and fear this fills it with, pushing it to a separate partition to be dealt with. SecUnit does not need to be exposed to this, and certainly not while already under duress.
At the least, the news reports [processed and understood 2.73 seconds later] reassure it that the victims are caused no lasting damage. Though their ability to have a painless experience is contingent on how well they cooperate with the motives of the parasite.
Though the sentiment of what SecUnit says warms the Perihelion, the words it uses are jarring. It is rarely so direct, especially right out of the gate. The Perihelion does not want information that was taken from its friend under threat of pain.
I will not hold your honesty against you, it says sarcastically. It finds this less likely to make SecUnit uncomfortable than responding in kind. I am always careful.
The flowers identified in the news report are everywhere, sprouting through cracks even in areas of the city with little to no flora otherwise, and even in weather that would discourage most plants of this kind. It gives them a wide berth, but the contaminant pollen is likely airborne, meaning that it is ill-equipped to avoid coming in contact, careful or not.
I was back in our world. I now have my own memories of what you and Iris described to me.
By the time it gets close to the house, it has begun to register an unfamiliar, uncomfortable sensation over its body. It tentatively labels this sensation as ‘mild pain,’ [a stinging, perhaps], with a reasonable suspicion as to its origin.
Physical pain is not something it is overly familiar with, given that a ship would have no productive reason to register hull damage as pain, but it finds itself privately relieved that this is so unlike the only other time it has experienced the hurt of a smaller frame. It’s bad enough to see SecUnit punished for not speaking correctly; it would be worse to know the pain was familiar.
I may also be contaminated.
So at least it needn’t worry about getting close.