Ace has trouble sleeping . . . again, so the night after the destruction of the obelisk's base, he suits up and wanders the camp site. By this point he's incredibly familiar with the placement of the microwire, and he steps over and ducks based more on memory than anything under the lights of the aurora borealis, the sight of which catches him firmly in the chest.
Have I ever seen this before? he wonders, doubting the possibility. Ace doesn't feel at home in the wilderness. Despite the one memory he has of the lake, as a boy, the feelings of the water on legs made of flesh in what is now two lives ago, he has no reason to believe he's spent as much time away from the cities as he has these last few days. But the greens and blues and purples above him, the misty steaks and swirls of light nearly bowl him over, and Ace takes a seat in the snow feeling again overwhelmed and unable to process his emotions.
It's terrifying, this beauty, and the response it elicits. He tries to intellectualize and distance himself from the moment.
It's widely understood that replacing one's meat with metal reduces one's humanity in more than just the literal fashion. Chromed up street sams, deckers, or corp toys also have a reduced capacity for feeling, and exhibit emotional detachment, and sometimes cyber-psychosis. It's true that my capacity for tactile sense has been diminished. The cold is present, right beneath me, and I feel it creeping through my lower legs. I can sense that if I stay here too much longer I will begin to suffer the effects of hypothermia, my brain will become more cloudy, and eventually, I will die. But, and this is the big but, I know that this sensation of cold is less real to me now than the feeling of water was on my legs in that memory. In a way, that memory is more real to me and my experiences than the snow is that I'm sitting in right now.
But my emotional capacity does not seem diminished. If anything, it seems heightened of late. Ace tries to remember if he felt this way after waking up the van with the others, or if things have been a slow build to this point. Learning about Katsina doubtlessly changed things, as did the exchange with the Natelys. He remembers being their old apartment, the homey feeling, and how that comfort blinded him to the purpose of the blood packs. He flashes forward to being on the phone with Nately Jr., and the rage he experienced at the younger's unwillingness to see reason. Was this some kind of displaced familial loyalty? Some guilt he doesn't even remember about his own past? Ace gazes up at the sky, lies on his back, and wonders if it's even possible for him to cry with cyber eyes. He stays motionless as the cold creeps in, numbing his limbs. He stays motionless as the sharp pain gives way to a dull ache, and then nothing. He wonders if he could sleep now, drift away.
It's so peaceful.
A branch snaps about thirty meters to his right, and Ace jolts back into himself, rolls to the side, and pulls his Crusader with dopey and fumbling hands. He switches his vision to thermo, noting how little distinction there is between his own body and the surrounding snow. Across a low rise, Ace sees the offending noise came from a Snoeshoe Hare, as it makes its way out from the tree cover. Now with a purpose, Ace slowly, painfully slowly, puts a small amount of snow in his mouth -- a trick Chino taught him -- and lays down his Crusader. Still slowly, Ghost it must take him nearly ninety seconds -- he lines up his Lancer, and pulls the trigger. A brief flash of light, and it's all stillness again. Unsteadily, Ace rises to his feet, and stumbles to the hare's body.
Breakfast for Sam. There's still a few things that need doing.When Ace returns to camp, Ohanzee is still keeping watch. The dwarf looks concerned over Ace's state. The numbness in his body is still affecting his movements, though the walk back did quite a bit to limber him back up, and thankfully he was able to avoid the micro-wire for a second time. Ace simply holds up his quarry, and nods, then sits down for a few to pass the time. When it's Katsina's turn to take watch, Ace retires himself, not wanting to face any questions about his present condition. Instead, he finds a place in the tent, bundles himself up as closely as possible, and finally, blessedly, sleep finds him.
#
In the morning, Ace is in much better shape. Breakfast, as always, is fortifying and tasty, and the hare does a bit to keep Sam in much-needed protein. Chino even seems a bit more calm, playing with his Bee Burger toys over the top of his plate once it's been cleared of food. Ace offers to help with the smelting, as he can activate his internal air tank to keep the fumes at bay. The craftsmen and women of the team do a nice job dolling up the gold, and Ace looks on with nods and smiles, not able to help at all himself.
The drive into Grand Junction is quick and without complications, though the jewelry store looks more like a front than an actual business. Ace and Chino wait in the van while Ohanzee goes inside to make a deal. Chino is still preoccupied with his toys, while Ace keeps an active and eager eye on the road should any threats prevent themselves. It would be nice to have Katsina here with her Detect Enemies spell, but Ace knows that she wanted to stay at camp with Sam, and he can't blame her for that.
