Zapville, two weeks after the twelve left

Irene Yeoh walked the hallways of the hospital, checking every room one by one. Each was tidy and clean. Most were empty. There was her office, of course, cluttered with junk, but no people lived permanently in the hospital anymore – the few that had before had either left or moved to different parts of the camp. Even she had taken her belongings to one of the dormitory buildings so she could use the room next to Antoine's and check the progress of his wound every morning. There was something about the hospital building that felt like it should be uninhabited, like without Angharad living in there it became lifeless and void.

The rest of the camp felt more solid and real.

As soon as she finished re-bandaging Antoine's wound and walked down and out of that dorm building, Rod Spark stepped straight into her way and waved a thing at her. Some confusing mechanical thing, that he probably thought everybody else should understand or care about.

"I'm making progress on it," he said.

"Good for you." She wished there were still cigarettes left in the entire camp, because then she could light one up while he watched and make her dismissal of his boring grab for attention that much more dramatic. She'd smoked her last before Tsuyoshi had gone. In some distant part of her mind she hoped he wasn't dead.

Rod Spark still wasn't going away. She sighed and looked at him.

"I can fix our problems," he said.

"I doubt you'll fix anything. The walls are closing in, Mr Spark." Every day the patch of land they lived in seemed to be smaller, its edges closer to the centre, fencing them in closer to each other than any reasonable person could be.

"I can build new walls, something more structurally sound than this wonderland."

She arched an eyebrow and choked out a mirthless laugh. Perhaps the obnoxious braggart would be useful after all. "We are all mad here. You'll be a builder and I will find our architect and complain about the bad design and shoddy work."

"Great!" He looked so excited to get her approval.

She walked past him without asking if he was done.

*

In the cafeteria Josephine Liu was staring sadly at a piece of dry bread. In the past week less food than usual had appeared for their consumption. Even Irene felt too hungry, that gnawing feeling at the back of her throat a distraction from the work she needed to be doing.

Irene stood above Josephine, blocking out her light. "Ms Liu, I'm tired of talking to men. I'm going to make you my new assistant."

Josephine looked up as soon as she spoke, and stood up as soon as she was done, face broadening with eagerness. "I will do it. Whatever you need, I'm willing to get it done."

"Excellent. I'd like you to check the perimeter every day. I want to see if my hypothesis that the metal walls surrounding us are closing in has any merit to it."

Josephine did a mock salute, and walked straight out.

1090 stood still as a statue in the corner, but Irene could see life in those ever changing eyes.

Irene walked up close, uncrossed her arms and smiled only at the sides of her mouth. "I'd like to have a chat, one woman to another. I think it's time for both of us to make new friends. Surely you must be sick of Niall Turner's whining by now."

"I do not get sick of his whining," the machine said. "I do not get sick."

"Let's have tea together in the library."

"I do not drink liquids. I cannot have tea."

"And there's no tea left in this camp, but a mad tea party can run on imagination. I'm sure you can imagine a great number of things."

Irene Yeoh turned to leave, certain that 1090 would follow.

"I seem to have no choice but to follow you," 1090 said.

*

They settled into Irene's new office in the hospital, one of the rooms that remained undamaged by the grotesque cyborg rampage they had all had to suffer through. Irene left the door open. Not that anyone was likely to overhear, given how few people walked through the hospital now that the loudest members of their community had gone.

"I do not understand why you have chosen to talk with me," 1090 said. The machine stood tall, not bending to sit or stooping to Irene's level.

Irene, however, felt no need to stand. What a pointless attempt at fighting for dominance that would be. She pulled back her chair and sat, one leg crossed over the other, then threw an arm back over the top of the chair and leaned back to look up at 1090 with an amused grin.

"You wouldn't understand, of course," Irene said. "Merely because you've paid so little attention to my actions after our first meeting that you haven't learned anything about who I am. I'm a very simple, straightforward human, easy enough to predict."

"I do not believe that you are more interested in my companionship than in the company of your friend, Antoine Huppert," 1090 said.

What a marvel of a machine 1090 was. No blinks or twitches to imitate human body language, but shaped just enough like a human that the inhuman elements became that much more uncomfortable to look at.

Irene tried not to laugh. "Antoine is my patient. If I seek him out he'll worry about infection and then I might actually be forced to remove more of his flesh. Even I can find that sort of thing dull. You will never be my patient. I will never be responsible for you. It's rare that I find someone I can talk to on this level"

Finally 1090 sat. Efficient motions, the white panels of its body gleaming in the sickly hospital light.

"Now I understand your actions better," 1090 said.

"I imagine you do."

Irene missed cigarettes. She missed pulling one out of the pack, lighting it up, inhaling that taste of death. She missed it especially in that moment across the table from that silent sentinel.

"Do you feel that we have shared interests and can form a friendship?" 1090 asked.

"We both share an interest in Angharad. By all means, tell me what it is that drew you to her."

1090's white panels weren't perfect. Two on one arm were dirty, scuffed as if from a fight against a greater force. Undoubtedly there was a story there that 1090 would never tell.

"You fear that I have nefarious intentions towards Angharad Silver," 1090 said.

"There would be no point fearing that. She isn't here. Angharad is safely home, undoubtedly acting the parent to her own father instead of me."

1090 was silent for some time. Irene waited her out. It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

"Everyone on Earth is interested in Angharad Silver," 1090 said, its voice slightly different than the moment before. "I heard she disappeared for 12 years before reappearing here. Who doesn't love a mystery?"