Child of Hades

6. Change of plans (Lié)

"What is your name?" I asked when the boy had calmed down a little.

"Rutha" He was still sitting on the floor, his hands enclosing his legs.

"I'm Lié." For the first time his stare lifted up from the floor and he looked at me like he was seeing me and not just his pain. 

Being outside of an avatar suddenly made me feel weirdly insecure. I was wearing comfortable jogging pants and a hoodie. I usually kept this look just between me and Hubris.

"Why don't you sit on one of the couches?" I said, raising several couches in different colors out of the floor with the wave of my hand.

Rutha slowly lifted himself off the ground, dropping down on a red couch with little enthusiasm.

I had never thought I would ever regret not downloading any updates to Hubris's empathy system. Now, where would I quickly find empathy?

I gave Rutha some snacks and started walking towards the cockpit. I stopped and leaned on the wall, looking back at him licking his fingers while consuming a brown sugary bar.

I abandoned the idea of leaving him on a desolate moon with some stranger as a babysitter. If the army were to find him... I couldn't trust anybody.

Best case scenario, I take care of him for a couple of months before I drop him off at an uncle's or auntie's place back at his home planet. But even in a few months, it might not be safe.

Ok. Logistics. Avatars are not cheap and neither is space travel. IF the kid was to stay, there would be no more Hibiscus for me. Not for the next 3 years or so.  I was not especially keen on finding another supplier anyways. How was I gonna make money?

I supposed that the boy could be home-schooled with the help of software. Hubris's algorithms could help with the selection. But who was going to take care of him? Kids need parents. 

Well, I did just fine without parents. But for him, I would have really preferred if he had parents. Having grown up in an orphanage myself, the idea of doing the same thing to another child just felt awful. Being a lost and lonely child is hard. Being surrounded by dozens of other children just like you, it does not always help. It quickly turned into a very bloody competition for resources. I myself had killed several of the other orphans when I was younger. In retrospect, I was not sure all of these deaths had been truly necessary for my survival. It is hard to guess which level of fear is needed for a safe future. Which level of life-threatening danger is acceptable without requiring action?

I supposed I could start growing Hibiscuses myself, and maybe some other herbs. I just needed some new hardware, seeds... I really needed to go shopping. I did not want to go back to Rutha's home planet so soon. I supposed that if I created a separate space in the ship for the kid, he could be somewhat sheltered from my workspace. It's not like I ever invited anyone to come onto the ship. Really I just needed to store some ware in a child-proof locker. It could not be that difficult. But the quality of my ware would be much worse than before, and it was sure to hurt my reputation and with that, my income. Perhaps I would have to do more plundering in the future? Back to murdering people for living at a faster pace.

I opened the map in the cockpit and closed off the cockpit from the rest of the ship. No need for him to see his home planet. It might have brought him to tears.

I opened a camera to keep an eye on Rutha during the flight. As soon as we had reached teleportation distance, I stopped the ship. After scanning the market for anything unusual, I picked out an avatar on my ship, getting ready to depart. 

I walked through the separation and told Rutha that I would be back soon. He nodded and did not ask any questions. Good kid.

I teleported my avatar to the market. I was wearing brown and green clothes, typical for healthcare workers on this planet.

Shopping on Tharo was never without danger. The army was always here, wearing disguise, spying, and waiting. The market was full of people. All of them were dressed as Tharoans inhabitants are, doing their everyday shopping. The market was placed in one of very few stone buildings on Tharo. It was one of the bigger markets. More stuff, but also more surveillance. Everything was meager, the color scheme dark and simple, as was typical for Tharo.

I had never been able to really imitate the humble expression that a true Tharoan usually carried. It is not that I did not know poverty. But I would never choose to live in poverty, just for the sake of maintaining a culture. I approached one of the merchants, my face facing downwards.

Surely I would find what I needed.