Shutdown (Glitch)

of years of evolution, of trial and error, I guess. But still. Why, across multiple species and multiple millennia, do they all follow the exact same pattern? And that’s not even getting into humankind’s most recent adaptation with all these powers we glitchers have developed. The smartest minds throughout history haven’t been able to even make a dent at solving some of the great whys of the universe.” He shook his head, looking out toward the cave entrance. “It’s all this insane mixture of order and chaos. The more I understand, the less I understand.”
    I stared at him, watching his long fingers as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. There was such spark and life in his eyes as he’d spoken. I didn’t know how to say it in a way that wouldn’t make him angry, but he was wrong. The old Adrien wasn’t gone completely. Maybe there wasn’t even an “old” or “new” like I’d been categorizing him in my mind. It was more like parts of him that had always been there were simply more dominant now.
    I looked at him closer, frowning slightly as I tried to puzzle out how to fit the old and new into the single amalgam that was simply Adrien .
    He’d always been good with numbers. It was why he was such a good techer. He could fly through code because he understood mathematical structure and relationships in a way I never could. He’d been amazed at the complexity of the universe before the lobotomy too—one of our first conversations had been about the limits of science, back when he was trying to convince me human beings had souls. It was the same impulse as I’d seen when he was talking about the shells. He used different methods and came to different conclusions now. He got just as excited when talking about ideas, but he was less likely to make sweeping statements about what those unexplained mysteries meant. He didn’t communicate as easily as he used to. He was slower to become emotional. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel things, and maybe even feel them very deeply.
    I reached out to put my hand on his. After letting it linger a moment, his eyes half-dropping closed, he suddenly pulled away and jumped to his feet.
    “I wanted to get an early start today heading toward the city to find some more oxy tanks,” he said. He threw a few objects in his almost empty pack and then pulled on his boots.
    I frowned deeper, staring after him. Why did he always do that? Every time I was on the cusp of connection with him, he’d sever it.
    “I should be back in about a day,” he mumbled. “Two at most.” He headed out of the cave, keeping low until he got to the tree line. His clothes and pack were still so caked with mud from the storm, he blended in perfectly with the ground.
    A sad ache settled in my chest and I leaned back against the cave wall. I stared after him long after he’d disappeared into the forest. As much as I saw similarities with the boy I’d loved, maybe the differences were still too insurmountable for love to translate.

 
    Chapter 19
    I STOOD AT THE BASE of the cave with my hand over my eyes, searching the horizon for any sight of Adrien. He said he’d be back within a day or two.
    That had been four days ago.
    Last night I’d put on the coolant harness and bathed in the lake, but not even the wonderful feeling of finally being clean had been able to dislodge the icy fear about Adrien that had settled in my stomach. At about midnight I’d been forced to give in to exhaustion and put on the biosuit so I could sleep. I’d set the alarm on my arm panel for just two hours, wanting to use up as little of the air supply as possible. But the loud clanging of the alarm only finally woke me after an extra hour and a half.
    I looked over at the tank leaning against the wall. Only thirty minutes of air left. Enough for a short nap, and I was already reeling from exhaustion again. Three and a half hours hadn’t been nearly enough after another three days without sleep.
    My eyes were weary and gritty as I squinted to look past the lake, willing Adrien to appear. My head pounded from the headache that had lodged itself behind my eyeballs two days ago. It had been a little better after the few hours of sleep last night, but now it was back in full force.
    Finally I pulled back in frustration and paced a well-worn path around the cave. I was so stupid. How could I have allowed him to risk his life yet again for me? Since he’d seen himself with me in the vision, I’d taken it for