Sun 01/22 20:06:49 PST

Andrea is still dancing barefoot out on the frozen brown grass. She's been out there most of the day. She hasn't stopped to eat or drink or rest. I think it's her way of mourning. Her music accompanies her, more detailed and beautiful than ever, a slow, sad flow in a minor key. Huge, intricate swirls of gray and blue fill the air of the commons. We'll probably need to do something about it if this keeps going on, but for now we agreed to just let her grieve.

I step away from the window and over to Father's desk. I settle into the chair and get back to work on adapting his master plan to work without him. It's going to be so much work. He was essential to so many things. I like the effort though. Keeping busy seems to help me cope with the gnawing, dead, empty feeling that's been growing inside me.

Maybe I can go hands-on like Chad once I finish getting everything figured out. I want to change lives and save people. Maybe if I do enough good, I can feel alive again. Balance things out. Maybe.

Probably not. People like me don't deserve to feel alive.

"I thought I'd find you here."

I look up to see Evan coming my way. His face is heavy with concern.

"There's a lot of work to do. This seemed like a good place to do it."

He nods slowly. "Better not let Chad know you've already claimed Father's office though. It's going to be bad enough dealing with him once he finds out you've been put in charge of things."

I stop and give him my full attention. "I've been what now?"

He slides one of the chairs over and sits beside me.

"Well, it's not official yet, and you'll have to get sign-off from the rest of our class for any major decisions, but Mrs. Hastings told me that's what the will is going to say when they read it. You're going to be running the Butler Institute."

I slump down into my chair, feeling his words as if they had physical weight.

"I can't do this."

"You have to. Who else do you think could?"

I think through my sibs. Chad would be the worst at it, plus he wants to go back to doing field work. Andrea can't, not without relearning how to talk. Jeff is locked up. Marc? Just no. And no one from the younger classes is old enough to even consider.

"You," I reply. "Or Louise. Either of you would do better at this than I would."

"That's not true and you know it. Louise has no interest in leading anything, and no one listens to me except for you. Besides," he says, waving toward my screen, "you're already planning everything out anyway."

"But I can't. I'm not…" 

I struggle for a moment trying to find words that won't come.

"Bullshit. You're the best leader out of any of us."

"It's not that. I'm broken. I literally can't. I can barely function at all, much less be in charge of anything."

"We're all broken, brother." He puts a reassuring hand on my arm. "You think what we did only cost you anything? I feel like shit too, but we did what we had to. It'll get better with time."

"No!" I shout. "You don't understand!"

He looks at me, hurt and anger mixing on his face. "Then make me understand."

"Sorry," I say softly. He doesn't deserve my anger. That's better pointed back at me. "It's not about guilt or feelings or any of that, Evan. My brain doesn't work anymore. My memory anyway. I think the implant broke it. Or I broke it by overusing the implant. I don't know."

He sits in silence for a very long thirty-seven seconds.

"I thought maybe something like that was happening with you," he finally says. "How bad is it?"

I look down. "I couldn't remember my mother's name. And it's getting worse."

I tell him everything. The whole downward slide from the implant getting upgraded to now. The index and the workarounds I've been using to hide my failing memory. The only thing I leave out is the whole Father-didn't-really-kill-Mom thing. I can tell he's already struggling enough with the guilt about what we did, I don't want to add any more to that pile. When I'm done he sits back and rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"I think your idea about reading back the important stuff every day should help," he says. "And if you edit that down to something you can get through in an hour or two and keep it current, you could maybe use your database index thing to compensate for not having a regular memory. I'll even help you code it if you want. And maybe Louise can figure out something to get the biological side working again. She's smart like that. I'll talk to her."

"I doubt it. Don't tell her. At least not yet. I think I'm too far gone. It's not like a muscle that's just atrophied. I'm pretty sure the chunk of my brain in charge of memory lookups is busy doing something else now."

"Like controlling a trillion little bots?"

"And processing all the information coming back from them."

"No wonder you're so much better at this stuff than me." He laughs. "You've been cheating."

"Yeah, that's me. Low-down cheating dirtbag." I want to match his smile, but my words feel too true. Instead I turn away from my brother and back to the screen on my desk. "Anyway, I should get back to work. World's not going to save itself, and once Chad gets back I have to pretend not to have an office for a while."

"Yeah. Probably better not to poke a wounded animal." He gets up and claps his big hand on my shoulder again. "I know you're scared to take it on, running the institute and everything. But you can do it. I'll be right here with you. So will Louise. Maybe Andrea too, if we can ever get her to forgive you."

I shake my head. "Doubt it. And I don't blame her."

"Well, don't work too late."

I ignore his advice and keep working late into the night. At some point the sound of Andrea's music fades out and I send out a couple of bot eyes to see her going back to the dorms. She's wearing shoes now, so at some point she must have stopped to put those on. That's good. Frostbite ruining her feet wouldn't have helped her mood any.

The silence feels heavy as I finally wrap up my work and lock the computer. Chad will be here early tomorrow, so I probably won't get anything done in here for a few days. I update my index entries and put some notes in my console so I know where to pick things up after he leaves again. In the meantime, I'll have time to do like Evan said and edit everything important from my journal entries since I came to the Butler Institute down into something I can read in the mornings so I can fake my way through another day.

Hopefully it will be enough so that I can remember enough of who I am. What I am. What you are, Noah, as you're reading this. You're a real bastard. Don't let yourself forget it.

Now stop reading and get to work. You have a world to save.