2013.04.18 - Energy Sources

The approach of evening has brought cooler temperatures and clouds that threaten rain. The staff at Anita Bella are ramping up for the rush... which shouldn't be -that- rushy on a Thursday. Jerry's just come in and gone to change, Fern has been here about an hour already, so she's on the floor on her own as Anita works in the kitchen. The young waitress, in her mustard yellow dress with the nametag that insists her name is FREN, is busying herself wrapping silverware in napkins, singing along softly to a Dean Martin song, but softly enough that she'll hear the bell of the door if anyone enters. 
The chiming of the bell heralds the entrance of...unfortunately, probably /not/ actually a customer, at least not by the traditional definition. The young boy known as 157 has decided to make another appearance, evidently. He struggles a bit with the door, due both to his small size and the fact that he's also lugging around a pretty big, old book. It takes a little work to get the door open and held for him to step through when the book slips every time he takes one hand off of it, but he finally manages to step through...only to trip over his own feet as he's forced to move quickly to avoid being hit on the bottom by the closing door. Fortunately, the big heavy book takes the brunt of the impact. The kid, Fern might note, looks a little worse for wear than last time...there's a cut on the left sleeve of his robe--and the arm beneath, though it isn't bleeding now. There's also a couple on the chest of the robe, though they're smaller and the skin beneath doesn't seem to have been cut--no blood on the clothes, there.
The bell alone has Fern putting aside the napkin she's rolling and turn, immediately taking a step away toward the door, and her eyes widen a measure as she sees the boy struggling. Her steps quicken, but she's not in time to help or avoid his trip. She stoops next to him as she reaches him, reaching out to help right him. "Hey Hun," she says softly, not using it as the endearment but as a shortening of Hundred Fifty-Seven. "Are you ok?" There's a concerned frown on her face as her eyes flit over him. 
157 slowly gets to his knees with her help, looking down at his book--which appears to actually be an education atlas, the date on the cover proclaiming it as actually being from the late 1800s. Quite an antique he's got there, though it looks a bit water-damaged. Slowly, he raises his stare towards Fern. "Query: Are you okay? Status report: This unit sustained no damage from most recent incident. This unit sustained minor damage in incident on previous night." A pause. "Clarification required: Should this unit add 'hun' to recognized identifications?"
Fern hadn't forgotten the boy's mannerisms, but it still sets her back a moment as he speaks in his odd way. At least now she knows that a more direct route seems to work best. "Yes, please add it. It is a shortening of Hundred." She moves to help him with the book, and to his feet. "Do you need food?" 
"Understood. This unit will now respond to 'hun.'" 157 slowly gets to his feet, picking up the book with some effort, and cradles it in both arms. "Query: Do you need food? Answer: Affirmative. This unit has come to retrieve energy sources by speaking with proper authority designated 'Fern'."
"C'mon, Hun, lets sit you at a table." Fern turns to lead the way to a booth, looking back to make sure he's following. Stopping beside the table, she turns and bends to help him with the book. "Why do you have this book?" Normally she'd be more conversational about it, but she sticks to being more direct. 
157 follows her over to the booth, stopping beside it and hefting the book onto it with her help before he climbs into a seat. "Query: Why do you have this book? Answer: During the incident on the previous night, this unit retrieved information sources designated 'books' from the target site. Information must be preserved until it can be evaluated. This unit does not possess sufficient strength to carry all books retrieved. Additionally, owner of target site refused permission for this unit to take all books retrieved. Therefore this unit took one book based on potential usefulness as a geographic information source."
Yes. This might take a bit. Fern nods, "You stay here. I'll be back with ... energy sources." She pauses, looking at the boy a moment longer, then turns and squeaks lightly into the kitchen. It's only a couple minutes before she's back with a tray. She sets out a basket with a few rolls, some butter, a glass of milk, and a bowl of soup. "This'll start you out," she says as she slides into the seat across from him, setting the tray down beside her. She adds softly, "Eat." 
157 sits quietly while she retrieves the food, barely moving at all. Once she's back, he regards each of the food items in turn, and finally starts with one of the rolls, which he just picks up and starts eating without butter. Then again, last time this kid didn't even seem to recognize what you did with silverware, so him not thinking of buttering bread isn't all that surprising. Or maybe he just likes it without butter...though him expressing a 'like' or 'dislike' seems pretty unlikely.
Fern watches 157 thoughtfully, before she reaches for the other roll, taking it, splitting it open, and using a knife, spreads butter on it. She replaces it in the basket, then reaches over to touch the tip of her finger to the soup spoon. "Use this for the soup." She pauses again, giving the boy some time to eat, before she poses another question. "What happened last night?" 
157 watches Fern butter the bread, quietly, but finishes his first roll entirely before he moves on to the buttered one. He holds it up, inspecting the butter, and then sticks a finger in the butter and tastes that alone. Then, he bites into the bread. Chew. Chew. Chew. Chew. Swallow. He looks down at the soup spoon, then up at Fern. "Understood. Query: What happened last night? Answer: Attack by entities designated 'lesser imps'. Target: building storing information sources designated 'books' and 'maps' which this unit was told are antiques and of historic value, and not to be taken without payment. Entities' objective was retrieval of particular book. Illegal activity: Theft. Method of search was inefficient and destructive."
Leaning forward, Fern props her chin in one hand, listening carefully, then nodding, "But you took a book? Is it the book that was being retrieved, or a different book?" If it's the book that was the target, it would be nice to know that 'lesser imps' might still be on it's trail. She'll go get her hammer. She really just needs to get a holster for it and carry it all the time. 
"Query: But you took a book? Answer: Affirmative. This unit received permission to take one book from owner of target site. Query: Is it the book that was being retrieved, or a different book? Answer: A different book. Book that was being retrieved was taken by another subject after incident was resolved." 157 finishes his second roll, and then takes up the soup spoon, slowly starting to eat his soup.
Fern nods, "Well, that's good then." She stays leaned forward, watching the boy again as he eats, letting him have a bit before she asks, "Was the cut on your arm taken care of? Did it get cleaned?" 
"Query: Was the cut on your arm taken care of? Did it get cleaned?" 157 takes another spoonful of the soup. "Answer: Negative. This unit left after accepting book from owner of target site. Damage was minor and did not require medical repairs." Another spoonful.
This brings a return of the frown, drawing Fern's brows together. "It might be minor, but it could get infected." She sits up, holding one hand out across the table. "May I see your cut?" 
Another spoonful, and then 157 looks over at her. He holds out his left arm for her to inspect, obediently. "Statement: It might be minor, but it could get infected. Response: Damage did lead to intrusion of foreign organisms. However, this unit responded with appropriate adjustments." The wound doesn't look infected at all, if she inspects it.
Fern does inspect his arm, and is happy to see no unusual redness or anything that looks amiss, albeit to her untrained eye. "Ok." She releases him, adding, "If you get hurt and you do need medical help, I know a guy. A doctor." Of a sorts. If she's still even able to find him. The level of the soup is noted and Fern shifts and slides to her feet. "Keep on with the soup, I'll get something else." Her words are gentle, and she turns to squeak off to the kitchen. 
"Understood. This unit will return to this location if in need of medical repairs." 157 continues holding his arm out until she actually turns to go, and then lets it drop and returns to eating his soup.
Again, it's only a matter of a few minutes before Fern is back, bearing the tray. Today's special: Chicken Parmesan! She sets the plate next to the soup bowl, sitting again. "I'm going to have to get back to work soon. But I want you to let me know if you need more food, alright? I can even fix you up with a sandwich or something for you to take for later." 
157 finishes off the soup as she brings out the new dish, and looks down at it for several moments in silence. Slowly, he looks at the utensils on the table, and...he's getting a little better at this, as he picks up the fork and the knife. Kid's not a /total/ space cadet, it would seem. Well, in that way, anyway. "Query: But I want you to let me know if you need more food, alright? Answer: Affirmative. This unit will inform subject designated 'Fern' if more energy sources are required." He looks up at her. "Additional information: High probability that current provisions are sufficient." Mechanically--and a little clumsily, he starts working on the chicken with the fork and knife. He figured it out, but he still clearly hasn't done it before. But hey...just practice, that's all.
Fern smiles, letting him work on his motor skills with the silverware without interference. "Alright, Hun." The bell over the door sounds, and Fern is on her feet almost at once. "Showtime for me. Don't leave without saying goodbye, but I'll be back around to check on you." She turns and lightly squeaks her way over to take care of the new customers, ready for the night ahead. 
Category:Log